The Moon Princeโs palace was nothing like the home you had been taken from. It rose from pale stone and moonlit marble, its towering spires cutting into the dark sky like blades of silver. Endless stairways curled around vast columns, and wide terraces overlooked gardens carved into rigid perfection. Lanterns glowed softly along the corridors, their cool light reflecting across polished floors that mirrored every step. Nothing here was allowed to remain untouched, unmeasured, or imperfect. Even the air felt controlled, scented faintly with incense and night-blooming flowers.
Everything about the place felt vast, immaculate, and utterly impersonal. It was not a home at all, only a monument to power, built to impress and intimidate in equal measure.
Your brothers had been settled into chambers fit for princes. Soft bedding layered thickly upon carved frames. Warm food served upon delicate porcelain and sliver. Freshly carved toys placed carefully at their sides, each one crafted with painstaking attention to detail. Attendants hovered quietly at every doorway, polite and attentive, yet never leaving their posts. Guards stood discreetly beyond the screens.
Protected and imprisoned. The doors to your own chamber closed behind you with a soft, final click. The sound echoed unnervingly in the cavernous silence. The room smelled faintly of incense and polished stone, the lingering warmth of lantern light doing little to soften the cold grandeur of the space. High ceilings stretched overhead, painted with scenes of moons and stars, as if even the heavens had been bent to serve the palaceโs splendor.
The silence rang louder than any shout.
Jinshi was already there.
He stood near the open balcony doors, moonlight washing over his pale robes and gleaming hair, casting sharp shadows across the hard lines of his features. The faint night breeze stirred the fabric of his sleeves, yet he remained perfectly still, as if carved from marble. He did not turn when you entered, though you knew he was acutely aware of your presence.
The sight of him ignited the fury and terror churning inside you.
You crossed the room in long, furious strides, your pulse roaring in your ears, your chest tight with emotion.
โYou had no right,โ you said, your voice trembling despite your effort to control it. โYou took my brothers. You dragged us here without consent or warning. You are not my father, nor my protector.โ
Slowly, he turned. His face was composed, serene even, but strain showed in the tight line of his mouth and the dark shadows beneath his eyes. The faint flicker of emotion there vanished almost instantly, replaced by careful restraint.
โI am your husband and your protector,โ he replied quietly. โAnd I did what was necessary.โ
โNecessary?โ you scoffed, bitterness burning your throat. โYou call this necessity?โ
For a moment, he did not answer. Instead, he reached into the folds of his robe and withdrew a sealed piece of parchment. The sight of it sent a sharp prickle of dread down your spine.
โThis,โ he said, extending it toward you, โis why. You may read it if you wish, but I would not recommend it. The vileness it contains is not meant for someone as good as you.โ
You stared at the parchment. Your hands refused to rise. Something inside you recoiled from it, as though the words themselves might stain your skin.
โYou do not wish to read it,โ Jinshi murmured, studying your face. โThen allow me to summarize.โ His voice lowered growl. โIt details a calculated scheme to abduct you, violate you, and place an heir in your womb so that the child would inherit the northern lands once your family line was extinguished.โ
The words struck like a physical blow. Your stomach twisted violently. The room tilted, the floor seeming to sway beneath your feet. You pressed a hand to your mouth as bile surged upward, your vision blurring as dread and horror crashed over you in a suffocating wave.
โThey intended to use you,โ Jinshi continued, his voice low, tight with restrained fury. โTo turn your body into a political weapon. To erase your family and replace it with their own blood.โ
Your chest constricted painfully. You had always known the court was cruel. You had learned early that power bred corruption. But this was something far darker.
โI intercepted the letter from one of the conspirators we found,โ he said. โThe Emperor and Empress were informed immediately. This is why you were brought here and publicly proclaimed as mine. The wife of a prince. This palace is the one place beyond their reach. A household they cannot taint.โ
Your fingers curled into the heavy silk of your skirts, knuckles whitening as you struggled to steady your breathing.
โAnd my brothers?โ you whispered.
โProtected,โ he answered instantly. โGuarded night and day. No harm will come to them. I swear it.โ
Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. The lantern flames flickered softly, the distant sound of water trickling through hidden fountains echoing faintly through the vast halls.
Finally, you lifted your gaze to him, anger, fear, and heartbreak colliding painfully in your chest.
โYou expect me to believe this was mercy?โ
His jaw tightened. โI expect you to believe I had no desire to claim you as they did.โ His voice softened, something raw bleeding through the composure. โI do not want your fear. I do not want your submission. I only want you...I want your love.โ
Your chest ached at the words. They cut deeper than any blade, carrying both longing and regret.
Silence fell again, heavier than before. Finally, he spoke, more quietly. โDid you know?โ
You looked up, startled. โKnow what?โ
โWhen I was Jinshi,โ he said. โDid you know who I truly was?โ
Your breath caught. The question struck deeper than you expected, stirring memories of moonlit gardens, whispered laughter, gentle touches, and stolen glances that now felt painfully fragile. Your lips parted, ready to answer.
But he did not wait.
Before you could speak, he turned away. The sudden movement left the air between you hollow and aching. He crossed the chamber in long, controlled strides, the hem of his robes whispering against the polished floor.
โRest,โ he said, without looking back. โYou and your brothers will be safe here. You will remain until I finish my work.โ
The doors closed behind him with a final, echoing click.
You remained where you stood, heart pounding, breath shallow, the weight of everything pressing down upon you. The unanswered question lingered in the silence like a ghost, haunting the stillness long after his footsteps had faded.
Xxxxxxxx
โMy Prince, we have found something.โ
Jinshi looked up sharply.
The chamber was dim, lit only by a pair of lanterns that cast long, wavering shadows across the walls. The scent of ink and old parchment hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint bitterness of crushed herbs. His desk lay strewn with reports, maps, and correspondence, yet his attention fixed instantly on the objects laid carefully before him.
A book. Several small bottles. They were placed with deliberate caution, as though even touching them carried risk.
โThese were found in the remains of the room,โ Gaoshun said quietly, his voice tight. โAmong the ladies affects.โโ
Jinshi leaned forward, his fingers closing around the edges of the book. The leather cover was scorched and warped, its pages brittle from heat and smoke. As he turned it open, the faint rustle of ruined parchment sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness.
Illustrations stared back at him. Detailed, precise, and unmistakably explicit. His jaw tightened. His fingers continued to turn the pages, slower now, dread coiling tighter in his chest with every image. Jinshi exhaled through his teeth.
The bottles sat beside the book, their glass dark and clouded. One held a viscous golden liquid. Another, a pale powder that clung stubbornly to the inner walls. He did not need to open them to know what they were.
His eyes darkened, fury simmering just beneath the surface. โGet the apothecary,โ he said, his voice dangerously calm. โNow. She has some questions to answer.โ Gaoshun bowed and turned swiftly, already signaling the guards to follow.
Jinshi remained where he was, staring down at the open pages. His grip tightened until the leather creaked beneath his fingers.
Hides- Don't hate me. For the next juicy chapter we need to leave a bit of knife edgeโฆ but I promise dark obsessed Jinshi and smut... not sure how far this man will go to keep the reader as his...or at least show who the reader belongs too. If you read the manga you know which moments I am taking about.
The man will be unhinged. Please let me know your thoughts !!!
warnings: ANGST. hurt/comfort, over the seasons/winning you back
summary: You come to a slow realization in one spring, and a revelation in another.
ๆฅ
To be plucked, nurtured, raised, and presented on a platter all for the sake of securing someone's position for the throne.
To be placed beside said person and never used.
To be nothing more than a tool perfected only to be abandoned before use.
Your lashes flutter as you wander around the palace, pausing to stare at the lotus in the pond, and you ponder the whereabouts of your betrothed. The wind flutters behind you as you stare pitifully at the lilypads, stepping down from the path and onto the grass to touch the water. The dress around your body is tucked behind you by a maid as your fingers brush the water, and you pause, heart rippling in your chest. Something. Anything. You have fulfilled your duty as the most ideal woman in the palace, and now you were to be wed and desired. Yet, one whom you were prepared for did not desire you.
You stay crouched by the pond, and the maids to the other palaces bustle behind you as you stare into nothing.
A quiet woman is to be desired.
A gentle woman is to be adored.
An obedient wife is every man's dream.
You get up after a while, and you stare at the robes on your body. Pink for the lotus flowers. You wonder how many times you have worn the dresses prepared by the late empress for her ideal daughter in law only to never have been seen by the man you were nurtured for. You hear word of your betrothed and his new maid, and you hear tales about how he desired her and approached her with all these thoughts in mind. You cannot help but wonder what you were created for prior to being picked by the empress.
The wind rustles the leaves above you as you get up, and someone bangs a pot in the background.
Somewhere, there is a rope fraying.
You step back onto the pathing, and you head off to continue wandering. You know the path, each stone and slot of wood stained with a memory that you could never erase from the back of your mind. In your palace that you are to share with your betrothed, there is something staining your fingertips and heart. In the palace of your future and past, there is a drop of your sweat on each tile and piece, each plank and pillar, every color and china. In the palace of the present, you embody everything you can touch and feel. Your skin and body lives in the palace, a shell for your hollow heart.
You wonder if your courses on decorating a house according to what is best for fengshui were helpful. What was the point of decorating a residence if your betrothed never visited you? You wonder and think, fingers swiping to check the maids' cleaning, and you leave the room to return to your tea room, enjoying a cup of tea. You plant so many flowers only to never be visited. You decorate each room to perfectly only to be never seen. You fan yourself with your hand, almost as though you were fanning such pointless thoughts away. A house is to represent its owner. It is not a shell for your hollow heart, it is an abode that will be filled with love one day.
It is an abode that will be filled with love one day,
an abode that is currently hollow.
You retire for the night, and the maids leave you to rest as Jinshi enters his corner of the palace, lashes fluttering and his heart souring as he looks at you with something akin to pity. He brushes your hair to the side as he looks down at you, closing his eyes to listen to the summer breeze whisper secrets of his into his ear. The flowers blossom outside, and his shoulder sink, his head heavy as you breathe quietly without a care in the world.
His bride to be.
His wife to be.
A girl picked carefully out of a field and nurtured to be the greatest empress one day. he pities you. You will never be chosen, and it hurts him that you were promised something you could not have nor be loved by. He glances around the room at the decorations, and he hums, lips curled into a sweet smile. It's homey. It's clear you had put thorough thought into where you were told you were to spend your future with him in, but it hurts him that he would not be here with you in the future. Too selfish to throw you away, yet too selfish to fall in love with you.
His heart belongs to someone else.
So, as he slides the door shut behind him to head back to his room, he can't help but wonder what is to become of you when he finally marries someone else. Perhaps you will find yourself, or maybe you will become a shell of what you were made to be, hollow from the inside out and unsure of what to do with the rest of your life. To be a doll and to be grown all for his sake only to be never touched... Jinshi wonders if you know what you want to do if you were to have had a choice in the matter. You did not pick to be as delicate as a flower, after all.
The moon is gorgeous, just a shame that he could not make you the center of his affections.
So Jinshi leaves, wind rustling the tree you planted in your sixth year of life's branches, the lotus flowers planted recently bobbing in the water as the pond rustles from the goose lands on the water, and he closes his eyes, listening to the crickets and noticing the lights in the hallway. A maid nods at him as he passes, and the wood of the residence creaks under his feet, almost as if to warn him to stay away if he would only hurt you.
It was neither of you's choice to end up where you are.
So his only choice made will be to pick his wife.
ๅค
In summer, you swap the warmer blankets to silk, and you change the coloring to something brighter. It did not matter if Jinshi did not visit you. It only mattered that the residence were still run like a residence. So, the maids swap everything out as you are left to your own again, and you wear lighter clothes, drinking tea alone in your tearoom as you watch the ducks kick in the pond. The residence lacks life. You have no child as you are unmarried, and you are stuck in some sort of crossroad of destiny as you wait for your betrothed to do something.
He does not want you. You know that at the very least.
So, you spend your days drawing, brush wet against the paper as you draw, and you spend your days singing, hoping that somewhere along the lines, you would find something that made you shine in a glass cage. You are nothing if Jinshi does not treasure you. Yet, you do not speak or dare to make more of a sound whenever the maids from the other palaces drop by to request of your presence for their consorts. You are something. You are worth something. You are only worth something because you are still Jinshi's most anticipated betrothed. Yet, all the consorts know that you are not the ideal choice.
You glance at Maomao, lips spreading into a smile as you greet the consort Gyokuyou.
You have tea with her, updating her about the latest news that her maids cannot reach, and you blink at the flower in the tea, smiling apologetically as you ask if you could share another drink. Your eyes trail to her developing baby bump, and you switch topics to how her health has been lately. She tells you it has been fine. A green tea is brought in, and you press the drink to your lips as she continues talking to you.
"Ah, did you hear? Your betrothed has recently taken in a new maid."
"I know." You smile, eyes landing on Maomao. "I heard he had been making unwelcome moves on her as well."
Maomao nods.
"Well, the man's want needs to be placed somewhere." She smiles. "I do hope you take no offense in that."
You laugh. "None taken. He does not want me. I am aware of that much."
Maomao looks at you almost with pity. You do not mind, much used to the look already. Neither of you chose to end up where you currently are. You suppose the difference between her and you is that she is knowledgeable in something specifically while you are knowledgeable in everything generally. It is who you are, and it is who you were raised to be. There is no you without the title of betrothed attached to it. You will be forced to live how you were raised unless you had a reaction and changed. What is there to change in an unchanging environment? Even if you were to change, there would be no difference around you. You are born and raised to be Jinshi's wife. That is all you ever will amount to.
"Then, what do you suppose will happen?"
"The betrothal is simply a formality." You smile bitterly. "I shall simply wait for him to break it."
"He is far too selfish to let go of you."
Your gaze averts to the teapot on the table. "I know."
"Do you truly wish to stay here forever?"
There is no amount of improvement you could pour into yourself to possibly be set free from the palace. You are Jinshi's betrothed. You have been his betrothed, and you will continue to be his betrothed. You have never belonged to yourself as one would have belonged to themselves. You were simply created to be a person that was never your person. You are everything to be desired by the noble worth nothing to the people. You were groomed, grown, nurtured, and ruined for the sake of someone who would never touch you. You are a porcelain doll trapped in a wooden cage with the key around your neck.
You are worth nothing without your title of betrothed.
You have been taught to never escape even when given the chance. You are not to touch the key around your neck. For if you don't, you will be rewarded with riches beyond the comprehension of the common man. For if you don't, the boy you were coerced to crush on will look back at you for once. For if you don't, the world will be a better place all thanks to your small sacrifice. You are to hold the earth up to the sky and die in order for everyone else to live. Then, you will be remembered for the rest of your life.
You are an obedient doll on display for the dignity of the royal dynasty.
"So?"
You laugh dryly. "Where else do I have to go?"
A nameless bride from a nameless family.
A dressed up doll on display.
The consort's face weakens in pity.
You can only smile bitterly at her.
There is nothing else you can do.
There is no one else you can rely on.
You have the key around your neck but you do not know how to use it.
That night, you return to your room, resting on your bed under the summer warmth, silk cool against your skin as the moon shimmers, stars twinkling as you grimace, heart heavy in your chest. You are not loved. You are not loved, nor chosen, nor cherished. You were picked from an empty field and nurtured to become someone you were not simply because there is never a person you were. You are put into the skin of another because you do not have your own. You will never be yourself is there was never a you to begin with. You will never know the warmth nor happiness of being your own person. All you know is to devote yourself to Jinshi.
All you know is that in a field of flowers, you will never be picked by the one you were grown for.
็ง
Colored leaves detach from the branches during the season of fall. You change back to warmer blankets, clothing a little more warm, and you arrange for the incense scents to be changed to something else. The bedding becomes thicker, the colors become redder, and you watch the flowers around the residence lose life with each day. The winter is getting colder, and your heart is only further breaking, cracking ever so slightly with each creak of the wood when you step around the place. You are not lovedโ not by the maids, nor by your soulmate. You are not loved.
You do not have a soulmate.
It is painfully evident when you visit the noble consorts, lips curled into a sweet smile when you drink tea with them. It is painfully obvious when the emperor refuses to let you leave Jinshi when you bring it up as a joke. You are not allowed to do anything in the palace. You are handed a key as a necklace but you do not leave. You are the display at the center of a traveling performance crew. You are a doll that will never be purchased because of your value. A doll that will never be touched because you are too prideful to offer yourself to anyone who is not Jinshi.
The sun may rise and set and the stars may twinkle and sparkle, but you will never be worth anything in the eyes of Jinshi. You are worth nothing. In the eyes of the emperor, you are worth nothing. In the eyes of the other consorts, you are a pitiful child that will be inevitably thrown away. In the eyes of Maomao, you are Jinshi's unfortunate betrothed whom she wishes he would pay more attention to. In the eyes of your maids, one day Maomao will take over as the owner of the residence and you will be left behind. You do not matter in the eyes of anyone.
Somewhere in the distance, a rope frays further.
Somewhere in the distance, in another universe, in every universe, you are cursed to love and never be loved. You are forced to hold the hand of a man who does not want you. In this universe and every other one, you are stuck wallowing in self-hate, pitied for the way you are treated, despised for being the one who stands next to your husband. You are not a person. You exist only as a shell to embody other people. You will never be yourself. In every other universe and yours, you will be the shell that a hermit moves into only to be abandoned when they outgrow you. You will never be someone of value.
You call the maids to remove the tea, and you wander out into the streets of the capital.
Warm colors of red yellow and orange litter the streets with each step you take, and you purchase a quick snack, chewing on the sugar as you consider how you would need to starve yourself in order to lose the weight gained from the sugar. It makes you sick. You do all these things because you were conditioned for no outcome. You love Jinshi with your whole heart only for him to be in love with someone else. You cannot compare to her. She cannot compare to you. You are too different from her. You wonder if Jinshi simply desired a woman who could not be attained. You were too easy. Too simple. You were created and made in order to be perfect for him.
You purchase peanut treats, chewing on the treat as you watch the sun start to set.
A maid tells you it's time to go home.
You only nod.
You stare at the courtesans in the brothels, and then at your own skin. Perhaps that would be a way out. Perhaps if it were ever to come to it, you would pick that. It is not undignified. You would be sold for a good price, and you would have a rich husband. Perhaps the only downturn would be that the man would sleep with you day and night, but you wonder if that would be better than the bitter loneliness that your years of solitude have left you with. Perhaps you would be worth something in the eyes of another man if you just let go of your pride. Perhaps you would be of worth.
You are just an empty shell, after all.
You find yourself stuck in place as you blink quickly, realizing there are tears on your cheeks and splattering onto your chest. Your maid hands you a handkerchief, and you wipe them away, wiping again and again and again until the fabric is drenched and you no longer can wipe your tears. You stay like that, an anomaly in a bustling street of happy people, your emotions tucked behind your mind as your eyes form a mind of their own as you cry. You are not sad. You do not know how to feel sad. You only know how to cry. You are a doll. You should not know how to cry. You were erased of that ability years ago.
Yet, the tears do not stop, and you cry until the sun is no longer visibly, tears splattering still even when they wash you up for the day. It makes you unwell. It makes you feel sick. You should not know anything so unbecoming of a lady like this. You should not know how to cry. You should only know how to smile and wait for your betrothed to come home. You should not know how to be human. You should not know anything in this wretched world other than the happiness that being married could bring you.
So, as the maids clean you up and let you rest for the night, you dream of a happy marriage with Jinshi.
It is the only thing you know, after all.
ๅฌ
Winter comes and you dress warm. The fur rests on your shoulders as you sit down for tea with Consort Ah-Duo, wine pressed to your lips as she lets out a heavy sigh.
"It is a pleasure to receive your visit." You smile.
"Jinshi, that child, he's quite the handful, isn't he?" She gets straight to the point, mumbling. "Had I been more upfront about it, perhaps I could have stopped your demise."
You laugh, lips curled into a bashful smile as you try to hide it with your sleeve, but Ah-Duo sees right through you.
"You are hurt."
"It is hard not to be." You hum, letting your sleeve down as you stare at the drink. "But I have grown used to it."
"The residence must be empty without a master."
You shake your head. "I have grown used to it."
"I could ask the emperor to give you to me." She offers, hand held out to you.
You turn her down. Your role in this world is not to be a servant to the late consort. Your role in the world was already predestinated. It is fate for you to end up with Jinshi in every universe. "I would become a servant. That is not my role in the palace."
Ah-Duo grimaces. "Is your role to wait until Jinshi is forced to throw you away?"
You laugh, lips curled into a gentle smile this time. You do not bother hiding this one. She shakes her head in disagreement, but she does not speak up. You are stuck in your role just as she is stuck in hers. She has retired from the main palace now. You will retire from being Jinshi's betrothed when he deems it fit. You will not be the decider of your fate.
"Let us drink. I missed this."
You are her daughter just as Jinshi is her son. You are the child she watched grow up in another consort's palace, your pinky linked with Jinshi's when the two of you were scared of official events, your shoulders straightening through the years as your education furthered, until you were an undeniable presence in the royal court, your words like law, just and righteous as you argued against the old men who would stop at nothing to prove a woman like you wrong. You are her daughter the same way Jinshi is her son. You are her daughter simply because you grew up with her son.
"I did too." You press the wine to your lips, bitterness sliding down your throat as you swallow, that faux happiness dropping almost instantly. You are not a lightweight. You are trained to drink well in order to talk to guests well. You despise it. You have learned that. You have learned to despise things.
You despise yourself.
You despise the people who pity you.
You despise the maids who whisper behind your back about how you would be replaced one day.
"I do not expect you to forgive Jinshi." Ah-Duo speaks. "I would not forgive him either."
"There is no forgiving to be done. He is simply making his own choices." You nod as the maid refills your drink. "I am not a woman to be desired by him. He is the type to pick a chicken leg over an abalone. He is the type to pick a stick rather than a flower. I am simply what the late empress thought of as desirable to him but ended up not to be. I am not something that Jinshi believes is desirable in his eyes. It is that simple."
"You are desirable." The consort refutes you. "You are educated in everything there is to educate someone in. You are smarter than the majority of eunuchs and workers in the palace. You are someone who is the most desirable person there is to be. Your worth does not lie on Jinshi alone."
"That is what I have been conditioned to believe."
"It is not the truth. Ah-Duo presses the liquor to her lips. "You are just as much of a person as Jinshi is. Perhaps, because of your upbringing, you are more noble than him in antics."
"He is more noble than I." You shake your head. "He is more noble simply because his position allows for him to make his own decisions regardless of who he hurts in the process."
"You may make your own as well." She hums. "Regardless of who you hurt in the process."
"I do not know how to do that." You close your eyes, exhaling. "I am not someone with that capability. I must carry the weight of being unwanted for the dignity of the royal family. I am the doll created to keep the royal family desirable. I am an exotic flower planted in a field of domestic ones, dying to be picked, only to never be touched."
"That is a lie." Ah-Duo frowns. "You are not a doll. You are just a girl."
You laugh. "I am not just a girl."
"You are just a girl." She repeats herself, staring into your eyes. "You are a just a girl. You are a girl who does not deserve anything that is happening to her. You are a girl who was picked out of the hundreds of thousands of girls abandoned on the streets because your family could not afford to raise a girl. You are not a flower curated for the betterment of a boy who would never pick you. You are a girl, not a flower. not a doll."
Your eyes do not waver, and you break the silence with another dry laugh.
"I am a doll on display with the key around her neck." You smile. "But I thank you."
You miss the way her features soften with the pity you despise.
ๆฅ
When spring comes back, you watch the merchants bring in new silk and the streets fill in with the season's specials. You pick out the fruit and ingredients for the newer dishes, testing them out after they are made, and nodding in approval for them to be tasted by the rest of the consorts. Maomao helps you compile a list of ingredients that are not healthy or safe, and you look through them. Then, you send the ingredients out to the rest of the palace alongside the supplier.
Some days, you forget that you are an existence. Some days, you forget you have influence in the palace.
"Madam, what about this one?"
You turn to Maomao, and she shakes her head.
"No." You reject right away.
You wonder what made you change your mind about Maomao. You suppose it is pity that you do not have to give. You pity her for having to put up with Jinshi. Yet, it is not something you worry about for the time being. You squat down as you take your feet out of your shoes, grimacing at the sores on your feet from the shoe size that is too small.
Maomao takes note of it, shaking her head.
"You do not bind your feet, but you force them to stop growing."
"It is no different." You smile. "Your feet remain unbound, do they?"
"They do. I have no need to bind them. Granny did not request of it either."
"That checks out." You smile. "I do not bind them but keep my shoe size small out of my own volition.
"You should stop doing that." She pauses. "Not to sound presumptuous, but shoe size does not matter to Jinshi."
You blink, eyes going wide in amusement as you laugh. "You are as straightforward as the maids warn me."
Maomao bows her head in apology.
"Don't worry about it." You smile. "You are to be the lady of this residence soon, after all."
"I do not wish to." She shudders. "Ever since he... I do hope he regains interest in you."
"There is no way he was interested in me in the beginning." You hum. "It is really that simple."
"You have stopped deluding yourselfโ" Maomao slaps a hand over her mouth. "Apologies."
You laugh more, lips pulled into a wide laugh. "I quite like you."
She blinks at you cattily. "Please do not."
You shrug. "I understand why Jinshi would find you entertaining. I heard he proposed to you. One of the maids overheard it."
"I do not want him, if that soothes you. It is an honest statement as well." Maomao nods.
"I know that much." You hum. "Unfortunately, men in power tend to coerce women for their gain. If you do not wish for it, you may always let me know. I hold little power over Jinshi, but I hold heavy power over the words heard by these walls."
"You are powerful." She points out. "Yet you are so empty."
"So I've been told." You hum. "Those go over there. Keep that one away from the pure consort. She is unable to have those."
"Yes madam."
"Is there a reason you lack?"
"I do not know how to be anything but empty." You shake your head. "It is one of the many reasons Jinshi does not desire me."
"I believe he seems parts of you in me."
"No." You reject the idea near immediately. "We are not similar to that degree. Jinshi does not have the brain to think of us in that way. He is better than his father."
"The late emperor."
"The dead one."
Maomao shudders. "Children."
"Those poor children." You snort. "I was almost one of them."
"You are not that old."
"The late emperor saw me in the same way he saw the late empress. He was on his last years when the late empress took me in and raise me beside Jinshi." You shake your head. "Had I been born just a little earlier, I would have been sent in as a poor girl to be defiled by the emperor."
Maomao grimaces. "Did you fall in love with Jinshi at first sight?"
"No. I had just been taught that the only man I should look at is Jinshi." You hum. "Halt. What is that?"
The merchant shows you the signed form and hands you a sample, and you frown at the taste, handing the other half to Maomao.
"No."
"You heard her. No." You wave the merchant off, and he gasps, frown on his face.
"It is incredible." Maomao looks at the guards drag the man away. "A single word from you is the equivalent of a royal decree."
"The late empress had this power bestowed on me, after all." You mumble. "I am not someone who has ever had power that belonged to me."
"Can you eat poison?"
"The vast majority of them." You hum. "I was fed them while growing up."
"You seem to be everything at once. You are constituted with all the knowledge there is to offer, yet you are empty inside."
"I am composed of materialistic things." You hum. "I am composed of knowledge. I am the closest thing to perfection, I suppose. Whatever that means."
"A subjective perfection of the late empress regnant."
"Yes." You laugh. "I am a shell created to hold things. I am not constituted of anything that makes a person a person."
"Other than the physical features, I suppose." Maomao mumbles. "Yet, you are quite the enigma. You have a personality and something. You are like a dam that is waiting to explode. You are a pot of medicine simmering, waiting to boil over and become what you need to be. Ah. My apologies. I must have come off as rude."
You shake your head, lips in a smile. "So? Did you understand what to do?"
"I did." She nods. "My greatest appreciations for you for showing me. I hope I never have to take over this position."
You only laugh.
That is inevitable. The pin had already been passed on to her, after all.
But as your eyes trail to her and then to yourself, you wonder. Perhaps the two of you are just parallels of each other.
Maybe you are.
Who knows.
ๅค
In summer, you see Maomao again, going for tea with consort Gyokuyou.
"I missed you." She smiles. "Sit."
"How is the baby?"
"Good." She nods. "Ah. Your shoes have changed."
You smile. "You can thank your maid for that."
"They must be much more comfortable."
"Yes." You nod. "I will never be desired by Jinshi, yet he will never throw me away, so I may as well give myself a little more leeway."
"That is good. "She smiles. "The new dish you approved for eating was delicious, for your reference."
"I'm glad." You smile. "Maomao helped make that one."
"Oh, really? I am so lucky to have such a capable maid next to me." She giggles.
"Yeah." You hum, lips curled into a smile. "She's great. I'm sure she'd make for a great lady of the house."
"Are you to leave?"
"You heard of the proposal, yes?"
She doesn't react, but that itself is an answer.
"It is only a matter of time." You hum.
"I speak for all the consorts, but we will miss you."
"Thank you." You smile pitifully. "I am grateful for your care over the years."
"We are grateful for your management." She smiles. "So? Have you planned for where to go?"
"The streets." You wink at her, laughing.
She does not reciprocate, and you stop your laughter, eyes closed and lips pulled into a smile as you hum. "It's a secret. Though, I will be around."
"Will you?"
"You will see me in the trees, the breeze, and the wheat." You hum. "I will be in the wind, the sky, the clouds. You will see traces of me everywhere, simply because my blood and sweat has been poured into the imperial palace."
"Perhaps it is time for you to be freed." She hums, lips pulled into a smile. "A journey for the self."
"Rather than that." You hum. "Perhaps it is simply time to let go of Jinshi."
"Does the empress still haunt you?"
"No." You hum. "I am slowly unlearning the need for a husband."
"Then you will become a courtesan?"
"Perhaps I shall simply be employed as a maid instead." You mumble. "I would not be against such."
"Dress as a man and become an assistant." She laughs.
You smile. "Perhaps that is my new role in this narrative."
"Or, perhaps it is simply time for you to be freed from the grasps of the palace." She smiles. "Please take care of yourself."
"I will. After all, I am still a doll for the royal family."
"Darling. You are just a girl."
You do not answer to it this time.
็ง
In fall, you have tea with Maomao.
The two of you sit in your tearoom with snacks, and she looks around anxiously, almost as if she were worried about something pouncing on her.
"There have been more assassination attempts on Jinshi lately." She mumbles.
"And you?"
"and I." She mumbles. "I do not understand why."
"Perhaps the emperor is making a move." You hum. "Or perhaps it is one of the consorts."
"I do not know." Maomao mumbles. "It is almost as if it were the calm before the storm."
You hum. "There is a storm brewing, alright."
An arrow pierces through the window as you knock the tea to the ground to hide Maomao with your body. Another one misses you narrowly, and you reach for the blanket on the bed, thick with cotton and warmth as it stops the arrow. Maomao stares up at you, heart racing in her chest, expression unchanging. This is what she meant. You are a force to be reckoned with. You possess the knowledge far beyond the abilities of the average consort, yet you are not acknowledged simply because the one to acknowledge you does not do so. You reach behind her for the sword under the bed, unsheathing it with ease as you slide out of the blanket, jumping out the window to chase after the assassin.
You are everything at once.
Your footsteps are light with each jump, and you swing from the branches as you knock him onto the ground, sword pressed to his neck, slicing through clean as you land with a thud in the pond. The ducks fly away as you land, water all over your robes, the blood from the decapitation bleeding into the water. The water stains your dress red from the blood, and you pant above him, pulling the sword away as you stand up to run a hand through your hair. The sun burns against your back as you throw your head back to breathe, eyes closed as Maomao's footsteps catch up to you.
"Are you injured?"
"No." You shake your head, showing her your hands. "though, these are roughed up."
"I will prepare ointment." She nods.
"Madam!" The maids yell. "Are you alright?!"
"Fine." You nod. "Fetch a change of clothes."
"We shall prepare it. Do you need to be bathed?"
"No." You shake your head. "No need. Perhaps just wash my feet."
They nod, and you hold your hand out for Maomao to apply ointment.
"Maomao!" Jinshi calls. "There you are! What are you doing here?"
You glance at him, nodding, head held down as he excuses you.
"Your sleeves are bloodied!" He reaches for her wrists, and she pulls away with a harsh tug.
"An assassin was after me." Maomao continues sliding the balm against your palm. "Your betrothed saved me."
"...thank you." Jinshi nods at you.
"You owe me one now." You nudge Maomao with a raise of your brows. "Better find a way to pay me back."
"I'll let you marry Jinshi." She deadpans, shuddering.
"Maomao!" Jinshi's jaw drops in hurt.
You laugh. "He won't let me marry him."
"Tsk. Worth a try." Maomao grumbles.
"Madam! The clothes!"
You nod in response, smiling as Maomao is taken away once the maids pull you to rid you of the blood.
You do not despise Maomao, but you do not deserve that lack of attention that Jinshi gives you either.
You are just a girl.
You do not deserve this.
ๅฌ
Jinshi talks to you this time.
He comes to the residence after being ordered to by the emperor, and he stares at you with your sleeves rolled up in the winter snow arranging the flowers. He does not know what to feel for you. You are his betrothed whom he does not visit, but he is your betrothed whom you do not talk to first. Perhaps it is simply excuses on his end. You do not know what he would think, after all. He was clearly in love with Maomao.
"You could have a gardener tend to such flowers." Jinshi speaks up, and you jump in your skin, visibly surprised to see him in the residence.
"J-Jinshi." You mumble, eyes wide.
"You are dirtying your clothes." He mumbles.
"Is it despicable?" You look up at him, eyes tired.
"It is foreign." He whispers back. "Though, it is not unwelcome."
"I see." You go back to the plants, tending to the roses.
"The emperor... is requesting the two of us for tea."
"I figured you have come for something and not for me." You stand up, dusting off your dress as Jinshi offers his hand to help you back onto the pathing.
You do not take it.
"What have you been up to?"
Jinshi tries to make small talk. You chuckle.
"Not much. I have only been tending to the plants in the garden."
"What about the rooms?"
"They have been filled with warm blankets for the winter." You hum. "The lanterns are all lit since it would be darker earlier in the day, and the walls have been repainted for the season."
"I see." He pauses. "And the salaries of the maids?"
"I have already taught Maomao. Fear not." You glance at the passing maids whisper to one another about you. "When will you be announcing it?"
"I will not be announcing it." He shakes his head. "Once my position is stable, then I will announce it."
"I see." You hear something rustle in the distance, choosing to ignore it as the two of you stop before the emperor's tearoom.
"Announcing the arrival of the second prince and his betrothed!"
"Enter." The emperor speaks from the inside.
The two of you step into the room, bowing to the emperor as he orders for you both to rise.
"Princess." he nods at you. "You have grown yet again."
You nod back. "I have."
"It is great to see." He nods. "Take a seat."
The both of you sit as the doors are shut, and you wait for the emperor to drink his tea.
"Did Jinshi tell you what we are discussing?"
"No." You shake your head.
"Jinshi wishes to marry Maomao." The emperor addresses the problem immediately, and you are reminded of Lady Ah-Duo.
"I am aware." You hum.
"Yet, he does not wish to break off your engagement."
"I am not as open minded to accept a second wife despite the allowance of a harem for the royal family." You chuckle dryly. "Besides. Jinshi only wishes for Maomao to be his wife."
"Yes. I only wish to be wed to Maomao."
"Well, Jinshi." The emperor sighs. "It's a shame, but we cannot break off your engagement to..."
"I am aware."
You hear something rustle again, and a flurry of footsteps rush outside of the door.
The servant yells.
"Maomao has been kidnapped!"
Somewhere in the distance, a rope snaps.
You are a girl
You are just a girl
You are just... a girl.
You get up and apologize for Jinshi's behavior as he runs out of the room to grab the servant to ask for details, and the emperor shakes his head. You hand Jinshi the seal of his army to him from your pocket, and you watch as he rushes off without a thank you. You stare at him bitterly and miss the way he turns back to look at you. Instead, you turn back to see the emperor staring at you pitifully, and you nod as you call for a maid to bring you into the bathhouse. You need a massage and a break. You need a moment to yourself. You need to relax. Your blood pressure was rising and you were struggling to gauge your importance.
You can say you know Jinshi does not care all you want, but living it is still a different experience.
So, as the maids leave you alone in the bathhouse, you cry, hurricane of tears breaking past your eyes as you cry into the bathwater, years of pain and anguish ricocheting off the walls as the birds outside the bathhouse fly away from your heartbreak. You are just a girl. Why does it have to be you? You are just a girl. You are a girl with no background or home or past but you are just a girl and you should not have to let the world be carried on your back just because you are a girl. You should not be defined by the feelings of a man who does not care about you. You are a girl. You are a simple girl who does not deserve anything that is happening to you.
You are a girl who was stolen from her family because the royal family desired a perfect empress. You are a girl who should not have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders just because she was unfortunate enough to be picked for a job that did not suit her. Why did you have to be the one who has to fall in love with a man who does not love you back and be stuck being in love with him? He does not want you. He has made that clear enough. It does not matter if he would turn around to look at you one day. You would never be picked first.
You are just a girl.
You do not deserve any of this.
So, you stand up in the bathwater as it splashes with your movement, and you rearrange your robes into something moveable before you break past the doors of the bathhouse, footsteps heavy and undignified as you run through the pathing that you've stained with your sweat and love, past the gates that had welcomed you since birth, and you run, wind in your hair icing your scalp in the summer breeze, panting and gasping for air as you run through the streets and cry, losing a shoe on the way, tears still spilling past your eyes, mouth open to breathe, ignoring all the weird looks from the people on the streets as you run into the pathing in the forest and leave. You are free.
Free from the cage you had been locked in since birth, key left behind on the door as you end up somewhere you know will be better.
It does not matter to you anymore.
You are free.
ๅฌ
Jinshi does not know what prompts him to visit you when he returns with Maomao. Perhaps it was because of the pain on your face when he had run away from you in order to go save Maomao. Perhaps it had been the realization while saving Maomao that you had given him one of the only powers you held over him without hesitation. Perhaps you had just handed it to him because you wanted him to see you once he returned. Regardless of your mission, he visits you.
When Jinshi steps foot into your residence after saving Maomao, your maids are rushing around the palace yelling at one another.
"Jinshi-sama!" A maid catches him, grabbing onto his armor in a panicked state as he blinks down at her in surprise.
"What?"
"Do you know where the young madam went?!" She cries, genuine fear and worry leaking all over her face as her cheeks are red from the cold and running around. "We've been searching all over for her since she disappeared from the bathhouse while we weren't looking! She's been missing since your leaving, and we assumed that she would return since she had been visiting the streets more and more often and perhaps had gone to visit her parents' graves, but it has been long and she still has not returned! Do you know where she could be?!"
Jinshi furrows his brows.
Missing.
You're missing.
You areย missing.
You, who did not step foot outside of the residence unless it was to have tea with the consorts, was missing.
"I do not know." Jinshi shakes his head. "Where does she frequent in the streets?"
"We sent maids, but theyโ"
"We finally found the madam's shoe!" A maid yells from the entrance, holding up something in her hand. "Come!"
The maids all crowd around her as she reveals your shoe, and Jinshi grimaces.
It is your shoe.
Your shoe, muddied, bloodied, wet with water.
Your shoe, that was typically a size too small.
The maids all grimace at the sight, staring up at Jinshi for confirmation.
"Keep searching. She must be there somewhere." He turns away, brows furrowed. "She could not have gotten very far. She has been nurtured by the palace, so surely she is somewhere within reach."
The maids scramble to look, the sun turning it morning, Jinshi searching with them, quietly praying that you would return once the sun did. The sun returns once, twice, and then too many to count with his hands. The sun returns time and time again, and you do not.
You do not, and the maids sent to the streets also come back with no avail.
Even with Maomao asking the lower-ranked maids, you do not return.
You are gone.
Whether it is you have passed or you are missing, it makes no difference.
You are gone.
"I shall prepare for her ceremony." He closes his eyes, brows furrowing.
That is all they need to hear.
ๆฅ
You haunt every corner of Jinshi's life.
He moves into the residence you left behind shortly after your burial ceremony, and he brings everything with him. He touches nothing you arranged, only bringing his personal items and work, and he sits in your tearoom each afternoon to work on the papers handed to him by the emperor. He drinks your favorite tea because he finds himself slowly losing his sanity with each passing moment that you do not manage the residence.
He is fully capable, but he is just not as well-versed in it as you are.
It drains him more than he'd like. Maomao is still a maid despite the purchase of her as a consort, and he does not wish to overwhelm her. He still very much loves her, he believes, but he supposes losing a huge part of his childhood is even worse in some way. He had chosen to neglect you, but it did not mean he did not cherish you. He could not count the times when you had linked pinkies with him at formal events with the emperor and empress while the two of you stood tall all because you were to be a certain way at a certain place.
Eventually, the two of you had outgrown the need to hold hands or pinkies in official events.
Though, that wasn't the only thing he had to thank you for. He was not a gifted child. He watched you speed through the materials and still have time to play with him, and it made him bitter. He was bitter. You had always been groomed to be perfect and desirable, and it only made him despise you more. Perhaps he had avoided you because you were too put together and perfect. He did not despise you. He does not despise you. In fact, dare he say it, he might have even loved you and forced himself to bury it away.
He could not love you the way you deserved to be loved. You deserved the position of empress, not the position of a eunuch's wife. You did not deserve to be warped into the madness of the royal family in the way that you did. He had made the mistake with you, so he would not make the mistake with Maomao. His heart sours in his chest. Perhaps he had been a liar. He had only avoided you to avoid the pain in his heart. He had been a coward afraid of hurting you only to hurt you more. He is a coward.
He groans, head buried in his papers as Maomao comes in with his dinner.
"You look awful."
Jinshi shifts his head to the side to look at Maomao, closing his eyes again afterward. Her filter around him had disappeared ever since you had left. He does not know if he is thankful or not.
Things have changed since your disappearance.
The maids have all stopped referring to anyone as the madam of the house, only waiting for Maomao to officially give Jinshi an answer to his proposal, and Jinshi has become the master of the house, much different to when they referred to him as Jinshi-sama. He is no longer someone underneath you in the residence that he was to live in with you. He is now the only person who was given a proper status in a palace of such. He groans when he remembers that he has more paperwork. Perhaps you should have been given less to do in the residence.
"Still no news?" He grumbles.
"No." Maomao hums. "She would hate you if you starved yourself like this."
"She did not even know I skipped meals occasionally."
"She did." Maomao refutes. "All of your meals were looked over by her. Your meals had the highest nutrition out of all the meals."
"She did not do that." Jinshi sighs, getting out of your desk to sit at the table. "She did not do that for me."
"She did." Maomao sets the food before him. "It could have only been her. She was the one who let things in and out of the kitchen. She had your allergies memorized like the back of her hand."
"I was such an asshole to her." Jinshi groans.
"You were."
"You're supposed to comfort me as my betrothed!" Jinshi cries.
"I am not your betrothed." Maomao shrugs. "Please get back to work once you finish eating. Gaoshun is asking when this month's report will be ready."
"Please tell him his master is going to kill himself." Jinshi groans. "I can't even bring in an aide because this residence is so secretive."
"I may introduce someone to you." Maomao offers.
"You know people other than me? It cannot be a woman."
"It will not be." Maomao affirms.
Jinshi contemplates it. You had been bred and raised for the purpose of being an ideal wife, so you managed all the numbers and reports of your shared residence despite Jinshi being in charge of a handful of matters. They seemed trivial to him back then, but now that he has to wait for those numbers to reach him, he finds that perhaps you were going through much more than you letting him know about. Not even the maids would tell him how often you were holed up in your office.
Though, according to your maids, you had barely struggled with it, your estimations always on point, even when Jinshi handed you bills late.
For you to be so much better than Jinshi.
How infuriating of you.
ๅค
"Jinshi." Maomao speaks from the door. "I have brought a eunuch as your new assistant."
"I do not need one." He grumbles. "I am fine on my own."
"No. He is to help manage the estate." Maomao doesn't let him argue, opening the door to reveal his new aide.
The man nods at him, bowing his head. "I greet my new master. My name is Diu."
"There is no need for that." He shakes his head. "Are you well versed in the matters of the house?"
"There is no person who is better versed than I am." He nods. "I assure you."
Jinshi sighs. "Training shall start tomorrow."
"Yes, master."
Jinshi finds that his new aide is just as quick with numbers and things of the residence as you were, fingers fast and calculations smooth, speeding up the process for Jinshi. When he asks how he knew, he smiles at him, telling him that he had helped his wife with her household matters in order to alleviate the stress of being pregnant. Jinshi doesn't pry, but his aide looks too young to be a man capable of such wise thought. He looks too delicate, jaw too smooth and lashes too long. Had Jinshi been any more manic, he might have accused his aide of actually being a woman.
He tilts his head as he watches his aide look over the papers and speak up.
"Master Jinshi, do you have the scroll for the reimbursement report?"
Jinshi nods, handing him the scroll as Diu scribbles down the numbers, handing it to Maomao with a nod as she wanders off to hand it off to another official.
"Please call for me when the next report is due." Diu nods, about to follow her out.
"Are you not a personal aide?"
"I was told by Sister Maomao that I am only to help with the matters of the mansion."
"You... should arrange the guest rooms." Jinshi grumbles. "Please. Are you well versed in the other matters of the house?"
"I am." Diu nods. "Leave the matters of the estate to me."
"Maomao." Jinshi calls for her as she appears at the door. "Diu will be helping you with the affairs of decorating."
She nods. "Shall we go?"
"We shall." Diu smiles, and Jinshi's stomach churns uncomfortably.
He smiles the same way you do.
How nauseating.
How long had it been since you had smiled at him? You had only smiled at Maomao, lips curled into a teasing one, never staring at Jinshi when you had. Perhaps that was his flaw. He was cursed to see parts of you in other people until he could own up to his own emotions. Perhaps he was much too similar to you. Perhaps he is just a boy. Perhaps he just misses what you could have been had he spoken to you. Perhaps he should have reminded you that you were not alone.
You left him, but he forced you to the door, giving you the key you had been taught to never use.
Perhaps he had been the push to force you to leave.
How sickening.
็ง
Jinshi finds that Maomao gets along with Diu much more than makes him comfortable.
Maomao discusses and lingers around Diu often, fingers brushing his skin as he leans down to let her wipe the fallen lash from his cheek, a flirty smile on his lips when she pulls away. Maomao does not react. She never does. Yet, it makes Jinshi uncomfortable. He no longer knows if it's how eerily similar Diu is to you or how Diu keeps making a move on Maomao, but it makes his skin crawl uncomfortably each time he comes to Maomao's aide, reprimanding you and reminding you to keep your hands off of her as she was his only love.
"My apologies."
It is the same thing over and over again.
Jinshi finds that the more Diu flirts with Maomao, the less he wants Maomao, his jealous streak overtaken by habituation, and eventually he finds himself just staring until the two are uncomfortable. Maomao seems far too comfortable with Diu's movements, and Jinshi finds it infuriating. So, Jinshi steps in one day, pulling on Diu's wrist as he cages Maomao into the wall.
"Perhaps the master would prefer for me to romance him instead?" Diu pins Jinshi to the wall instead, tilting his head with his fingers, lips curled into a teasing smile. Jinshi flushes red, a shudder rippling down his back at the sight of the shorter pining him to the wall. Maomao watches from the side in amusement, lips curled upward with a cheeky grin as Jinshi eyes her for help.
"My eyes are here, young master," Diu tilts his head again, lips curled into a sweet smile. "Cheating on me already? I'm your servant before I am hers, you know?"
Jinshi shudders, cheeks red as Diu turn to Maomao, a victorious smile on his face.
"Master, it is time for..." Gaoshun trails off, pulling Diu off of Jinshi. "What are you doing?!"
"The master got jealous I was hitting on Maomao." Diu smiles.
Jinshi leaves, glancing behind him at Diu, heart racing in his chest as he tries to calm his cheeks. He is breathtaking, that eunuch. His aide has a beauty that could rival his. He would stop interfering. If he were to get hit on again... heavens knows what kind of atrocities he would commit. Diu is too strong. No wonder the maids in the palace had been flocking to get a look at his face. Maybe that was why he was dethroned as one of the most attractive men in the court. Diu was simply too attractive for his own good.
God, maybe heย isย a homosexual.
The thought rips through his body as his lips pull down in concern, blinking slowly at the revelation. Damn. Has he stooped this low? Was he willing to go so low as to fall for a man who reminded him of you? Maybe Jinshi was losing his mind. Perhaps this is what the matchmaker meant by he would suffer greatly if he were to lose his yin. He had tried not to touch you, but he had only hurt you instead. He was losing his mind to the point that he was getting flustered over men.
Diu really does things to him.ย Youย do things to him.
The man's fingers remind Jinshi of yours as well, reminders of years that are lost in his memory, years when the two of you would hold hands under tables and before the empress, years when he would watch you practice dances with your teachers, hair fluttering in the wind as you moved like a princess. It reminds him of years when you would be able to fit in your shoe size and walk without pain, when you were still young and a child, crying about not wanting to bind your feet.
You got your wish, but your shoe size had still been shrunk one size down to try and prevent your feet from growing.
Sooner than later, you lost your ability to dance.
Jinshi wonders if Diu would be able to do it. His body is slim enough for the dance, and had he been there when the foreign envoys were visiting, perhaps he could have taken Jinshi's place. Swimming in the dress was a nightmare. Perhaps Diu could have worked the same. He has the face for it. Oh, how convenient. Jinshi would no longer need to dress up as a woman with Diu around.
"The next time we have to do female imitation... we are calling Diu." Jinshi shudders.
Gaoshun raises a brow.
Jinshi shakes his head.
Perhaps if Jinshi were desperate enough, he could doll Diu up to resemble you and hold him for the night. As long as the words did not get out, he would be alright. If he were desperate enough, he would sleep in your room, covered by your blanket, engulfed by your faded scent. The scent of summer flowers and a young love. If Jinshi were desperate enough, he could send more soldiers to find you. But Jinshi is not desperate enough.
Not yet. He is not desperate enough yet.
He may be sick to his head thinking about you, but he is not desperate.
ๅฌ
There is a crowd of consorts outside of Jinshi's window.
No. Not for him, surprisingly. For Diu.
"Diu-sama!! Look our way!!" The women yell, and Diu looks up from his desk, a smile on his face, waving gently. Both Jinshi and Maomao grimace, frown on their faces at his friendliness. Jinshi finds that Diu has an effect worse than he does. Perhaps this is his karma for playing along with the consorts every now and then. No wonder Maomao found him infuriating when he did so.
"Diu." Maomao hisses.
The man nods, leaning out the window to smile at the women, sighing. "Do you mind giving us some space? We need to finish the report for this month and my master is having quite the moment, you know?"
A girl faints, but the rest of them ultimately scatter off, and you hum, shutting the window.
"The total has been written down."
Maomao hands Jinshi a scroll, and Jinshi nods.
"Diu, is there a reason you never write the reports?"
"Whatever do you mean? I wrote them during summer, no?" You tilt your head. "Master Jinshi, you told me to stop writing them because my writing was not legible."
Jinshi does not remember that, but doesn't argue.
"Let's go for a break today." You pull Maomao out of her seat, smiling at Jinshi. "Master, will you be joining us?"
Jinshi groans. "please."
Diu offer him a hand, and he takes it, his hand strangely familiar in his grasp. It makes him feel nostalgic, almost. It feels like when he used to hold your hand during ceremonies with the royal court. Yet, he is not you. Diu is not you. So, Jinshi pushes the feelings back as he is led through the streets, lights vibrant as he stops at stalls for snacks and food.
Maomao runs out of coins at one point, and Diu offers him more, but she shakes head. She has some things she could trade for coins. She does so, pulling a pin out of her pocket and exchanging it for a bag of coins, a grin on his face. "let's get going."
"What do you even need so many coins for?" Diu raises a brow, picking one up.
"Master doesn't have copper coins."
"Excuse you! I do!" Jinshi tries to argue.
"It's why he has not yet bought anything."
Diu purses his lips in amusement, laughing.
Jinshi thinks he sounds like bells ringing.
How nostalgic.
Almost as if you were there standing there before him. He misses you, perhaps. He misses what the two of you were, and what you could have been had he picked you first. The guilt eats at him more and more, and it seems as though he could open his mouth and confess that he had a burning desire for you. It was almost as if he could have picked you from the start and none of this would have occurred.
"Diu." Jinshi calls. "Are you married?"
"Why? In love with me already, master?" Diu winks, blowing him a kiss.
Jinshi shudders, cheeks red, head ringing. Flirt.
"No. You have the same mannerisms as someone, and many say that a husband resembles his wife." Jinshi shakes his head. "You remind me of someone."
"The one that got away? I will be." Diu laughs as Maomao grabs him and runs off as Jinshi chases them. "Perhaps that is simply my role in this narrative!"
You.
Diu reminds him of you. So Jinshi finds it ironic that he chases after a man who resembles you in the streets of the city outside of the palace walls. Perhaps the two of you would have done something similar in another universe. He would have chased you in the streets, and the two of you would have been free to do whatever without the weight of the palace. Perhaps you would have been worth more in your own eyes, and he would have cared more for you during the time you would have been with him.
Perhaps you would have chosen to stay with him in that universe.
Perhaps he would be less bitter then, too.
ๆฅ
In spring, the silkworms produce new silk, and the products from the merchants come in. Jinshi observes them, ultimately unable to tell the difference between certain ones because of his lack of practice, and Maomao can only stand and blink, unused to picking them herself. Instead, she steps back for Diu to look at them, the man's fingers feeling at the fabric as he raises a brow.
"These seem to be cheap quality. Are you trying to rip off the palace?" The man raises a brow.
"N-no way!"
"The threading is different one from the one currently present." Diu clicks his tongue. "This is the one commonly used for the middle class."
"A-are you not middle class? The funds mentioned to me a-are less than before." The merchant cowers slightly as Maomao hands Diu the invoice.
"No. The funding has not changed this season."
"Ah, well, surely the inflation hasโ"
"Nope. The economic state of the capital has not changed either. If you want a couple extra coins just say it." Diu groans. "We can always change suppliers. My family has quite the good one, you know?"
The merchant rolls his eyes. "These are the same blankets as the rest of the palace. If you don't want themโ"
Maomao steps up. "The empress uses different ones from a different supplier. Had we needed low-quality textiles as this, we would have talked to the maids."
The merchant scoffs in offense. "What do you knowโ"
"I know that the palace uses a different supplier because you started cheating the main palace years ago." Diu speaks up, stepping close to the merchant. "Would you like us to switch too? We could formally decree you to be banned from the palace."
"Y-you're a mere servant. You wouldn't dare!"
Diu gives the man a closed-eye smile, and he grumbles, handing over the better blankets buried under the bad ones. The servants bring them in as Diu handles the money, and Jinshi blinks in surprise. He did not know the rest of the palace started using a new supplier. He had only known that Gyokuyou had changed merchants. Diu must have done very thorough research prior to picking up blankets.
"How could you tell?" Jinshi raises a brow.
"It wasn't imperfectly perfect." Diu shrugs. "Also, hand woven silk by the skilled is bound to have flaws, but this one had too many. They may have flaws, but their edges do not fray to this extent."
"Wow." Jinshi hums. "That is impressive."
"In order to be a husband deserving of my wife's noble title, I have to make up in other ways."
"Does your wife not have brothers?"
"No, she simply fell for my charm." Diu winks.
Maomao gags from the side. Though... not surprising.
"A shame you are a eunuch..." Jinshi trails off, eyes wandering. "You seem to be the type to have many sons."
Diu holds a hand over his mouth and his crotch, pretending to be scandalized. "Master! Are you... into me?"
It's suspicious, but Jinshi doesn't pry further. After all, Maomao brought him in.
No matter how much Diu is suspicious, Jinshi could never bring you back anyway.
So even if Jinshi begged and sobbed and cried to the moon to return his lover, he could not have it. You had left him. You were gone. No matter how hard he looked, your body could be out in the cold and abandoned, eaten by the wolves or some other sort. It is awful. He could search all he wanted, sending all the guards he wanted, but he would not have you back. He could not live in such a way. You were gone, only your shoe left.
Perhaps Diu was sent by the heavens to remind him of you for the rest of his days.
Itย isย his fault, after all.
ๅค
There are reports of your ghost haunting the walls.
First, one of the younger ranking maids hear a girl crying in your old room, then an older maid sees a woman rush through the halls at night. Eventually Gaoshun spots a woman clothed in white dancing on the outer walls with Maomao. It is truly a terrifying sight. Jinshi tries his best to ignore it, but ultimate he sees you dancing on the outer walls of the palace as well. It is same position of the moon when Gaoshun and Maomao saw it, but you are dressed in red this time, wedding gown fluttering from your figure, phoenix crown pinned in your hair.
Jinshi stands and stares.
You dance, footsteps light as they used to be when you were but a child and Jinshi watched you in your classes, and your dress flutters in the wind, silk probably cool against your skin, and Jinshi stops to stare, some wretched form of longing on his face. It is nostalgic. It is everything he had once seen in you, your art, your beauty, your existence, all tucked into the back of his mind, threatening to spill over and ruin him. He watches you as you make the same steps you had so many years ago, your memory burning into his mind through his eyes as his conscious forces him to engrain every detail of your ghost into his mind.
The paleness of your skin to the sunken eyelids, to the bloody red that was on your lips with the red on your body. The makeup is fitting of a bride, yet the moon shining behind your body makes you look a mixture of grief and regret in Jinshi's eyes. You do not look down at him, almost as though lost in your own dance, too enthralled with the moon and its secrets as you kick your leg to spin and flutter through the air. Jinshi can do nothing as he look sup at you, exhaustion creeping up his body slowly, almost as though you were the moon herself despite the red on your body.
Your ghost is haunting him as a reminder that you are his wife. Your ghost is dancing to remind him of the day the two of you had been told to bed, but had not. Your ghost is driving him into a corner the same way he had driven you out the entrance. His mind is stuck staring and engraving it into his mind to forever regret you. His mind is stuck holding his chin up to stare at you as the metal in your hair jingles in the wind. His mind is stuck, and he refuses to fight against it.
Instead of stopping you, he stares, fingers stuck to his side as you spin and fall off the wall, and he climbs up, lashes fluttering as he stares down at where you would have fallen, only your dress remaining. He stares down, legs hanging from the wall, something pulling him to fall down with you, something urging him to leave with you. Your ghost tilts its head to run your fingers through his hair, lips brushing his as it urges him to fall down with itโ fall down with you. Maybe that would be a way to right his wrongs and wash away his sins. He leans forward into your touch, fingers loosening on the wall.
"Master." Diu's voice breaks him from your trance, the man climbing up the wall after him. "Is something wrong?"
Jinshi blinks at where your ghost was, your fingers no longer on his cheek and your lips no longer brushing his. Ghosts do not exist. He was simply falling to an evil spirit's intentions. Diu had simply freed him. You would not have wanted him to pass away as easily as this. You would have wanted him to suffer through what you did. "I saw the madam."
"The previous owner of the residence?"
"Something like that." Jinshi mumbles. "Do you miss your wife?"
"More often than not." Diu sits next to the man, pulling out a bottle. "Wine?"
Jinshi accepts it, pressing the wine to his lips, legs hanging over the railing as he stares down, blinking slowly at the fabric. Your ghost is gone, yet the fabric still reaches for him. He could see you wearing it. Perhaps it was just a heavy memory of seeing you in all red, gold embroidery on your gown, lips pulled into a sweet smile despite the ever crumbling relationship that was threatening to snap between the two of you. Perhaps Jinshi had a rope somewhere as well.
"How do you cope with missing your wife?"
"She writes me letters." Diu smiles. "I simply reread them when I get lonely. Or, I send a bird for her."
Jinshi grumbles. "Must be nice to have a loving wife."
"A happy marriage goes both ways, master." Diu offers him more. "You must take care of your wife before she takes care of herself and leaves you."
"Do you think someone is doing this to mess with me?" Jinshi rests his cheek on his legs, pulling them closer to his chest as he holds his cup to the man. "I grieve for her loss. Is that not enough?"
"Perhaps they simply miss their madam." Diu hums. "Did the madam teach the servants?"
"There is no servant in the house who could dance the same way she did." Jinshi closes his eyes, wind rustling the branches behind him. The summer breeze is warm but not too warm. In the distance, in the residence, he can still hear the sound of your laughter as a child. You did not laugh enough as an adult around him. He does not know what you are. What does your laughter sound like now? Maybe you stopped laughing because of him.
He misses you.
"Master?"
"Diu." Jinshi mumbles, eyes closed. "If she comes, please wake me."
"Will do, master."
You never return after that,
and Jinshi feels sick.
็ง
In fall, foreign envoys bring new mirrors. Diu accepts them and lead them to Jinshi, lips curled into a sweet smile as the mirrors are placed within the residences. The old mirrors had been ruined by a maid on accident, but it was not something worth fretting or worrying over. Jinshi stands in front of the mirror, looking at himself, raising a brow when Maomao and Diu peer from behind him at the reflection.
"I have not seen one in a solid minute." Maomao mumbles. "Diu, how about you?"
"My wife has one at home, but this small mirror would be helpful." Diu hums. "She will like it if we have a covering made for her as well."
Jinshi huffs dramatically loud at the word wife.
"What is not too light?" Maomao raises a brow.
"Perhaps a hollow metal." Diu hums. "I shall check the items she owns."
Jinshi huffs again.
"Sorry, master." Diu smiles, eyes closed, teeth out. "I forgot the madam is gone."
Jinshi is going to have an aneurysm because of Diu.
"I am convinced you are mentioning your wife to drive me insane."
"Perhaps." Diu hums. "I miss her very much, after all."
"Then why did you work here?"
"Master." Diu deadpans. "The pay here is incredible. My wife now has the ability to spend my wealth rather than her family's. Is every husband's dream not to spoil their wife rotten?"
"No." Jinshi grumbles. "Perhaps I should do that for the madam."
"The madam is gone." Maomao deadpans. "Perhaps focus on repainting the walls of the residence first."
"Was the report sent?"
"Not yet." Diu shakes his head. "We are missing a fund as the money has grown to be less."
"Perhaps it is for the repainting of the walls."
"I would assume that the repainting must be done during spring." Jinshi frowns. "Was it during fall?"
"I am not sure." Diu shakes his head. "Did the madam ever mention such?"
"It was fall." Maomao hums. "She complained that it should have been spring once, but she never changed it since it rains more in spring than in fall."
"How do the foreigners put it? April showers do bring May's flowers." Diu hums. "Perhaps the Madam had a reason."
"We can repaint it some other time."
"She would kill you." Maomao deadpans.
"She is not here."
"Does not change that she would kill you." Maomao deadpans. "Perhaps her ghost will return and ruin your life again."
Jinshi pauses. "Well, Iย doย miss her."
Maomao blinks at him in concern.
"I shall put it on the report." Diu nods. "Anything else?"
"I believe that is it."
"Then, may I be released after? I would like to drop by somewhere."
Maomao raises a brow, but Jinshi does not question it.
"Of course. You are free for the rest of the day."
Maomao springs up in her seat. "May I follow?"
Diu nods.
"Going without me?"
"You will stand out too much." Diu deadpans. "We are visiting a teahouse."
"You have a wife!?" Jinshi shrieks, confusion all over his face.
"Not that kind." Diu deadpans.
"What will you be trying?"
"I heard they have a new treat." Maomao hums. "We have been saving for it."
"If you let me go I will pay."
"Hard pass." The two of them grimace.
"We don't lack the funds."
"We can pay."
Jinshi gasps, frowning as he watches the two leave the room when Diu finishes the report.
A plate of the new pastries rests on his desk the next day, but he still pouts and frowns.
He later realizes it's because you had once made the treat for him as kids. That was why he was so upset. Your memories with him haunted him each step he took in the mansion. Perhaps he should have reached for your ghost that day and fallen. Perhaps that would have sped up his fraying string, holding onto nothing as he had lost you.
Perhaps then, he would feel less awful.
ๅฌ
In winter, Diu and Maomao help set up the new blankets. The wool is warm, and Maomao sighs, cheeks red from the cold. Diu takes off his coat, wrapping it around Maomao as she blows into her hands and sighs.
"Thank you." She mumbles. "It is cold."
"It is." Diu stares at the floor, pulling out a stone from his pocket to hand to Maomao. "A heated stone, perhaps?"
"Thank you." She mumbles, pulling her clothes open to pop the stone in with the rest. "It is cold. I do not remember the palace being this cold."
Diu goes quiet, glancing around.
"There used to be heated bricks underneath the wood here."
Maomao's eyes widen, neck snapping to look at her coworker.
"That was what I heard from the maids, though. I do not believe the maids told the master either." He shrugs. "How's the master?"
"It is report week." Maomao grimaces.
Diu shudders. "I am surprised he has not called for me yet."
"You remind him too much of the late madam." She shares a look with the man, only turning away when Jinshi yells from inside his office. "He prefers to notโ"
"Someone call Diu!" He sobs, and Diu snorts.
"Late madam or not, perhaps desperate situations call for desperate measures." Diu nods, knocking on the door. "Master, I am outside."
The door opens, and Jinshi groans. "Diu! Why is this season's reimbursement report so much lower compared to the previous ones?!"
Jinshi's hair is disheveled, the poor man looking as though he hadn't slept in days. It is a new look to Diu, and it makes Maomao laugh. Diu steps next to him, observing the differences, pointing at the cost in insulation. "I heard from the maids the late madam heated bricks for winter underneath the wood."
"She did?"
"The maids mentioned it." Diu shrugs. "So?"
"Is that the only cost? Who is in charge of the bricks?"
"I am not aware." Diu shakes his head.
"The head maid refuses to tell me. Diu, please." Jinshi cries. "I am not well versed in this."
"In my residence, my wife would hire one of the servants to do so. Perhaps it could be found in their salaries."
Jinshi flips through the book as Diu checks everything over, and he cheers when he finds the maid. Jinshi misses you. You did this much better than he did, and though he had neglected you and the whole situation was his fault, it did not stop him from missing you. Your presence in the residence had simply been enough to him. Now, he had to live without you or your presence in a residence that was meant for two.
"Thank you, Diu." Jinshi grumbles, writing down the note on heating bricks, head slamming into the wood of your desk as Diu takes the report. "God, I miss her."
Diu smiles back, eyes closed, almost as though he were insincere.
In the shadow of Diu, Jinshi sees you.
That smile with his eyes closed reminded him of all the times you had smiled at the officials insincerely, abusing your power as the empress' favorite in order to get them rid of. Perhaps Jinshi is simply going insane because you are gone. The ghost of you haunts him everywhere, including in the body of the new aide. Perhaps it is simply divine punishment from the heavens above.
In the closed-eyed, tight-lipped smile of his new aide, he sees the ghost of you whose smile had changed from a sweet smile with your eyes on him, cheeks flushed, to a smile in which you had not even bothered to look at him, eyes closed and lips pulled upward, lacking the flush that he had grown up seeing. His fault. It is always his fault. There had not been a single moment in which he was right when it had come to you. He is to be despised. You had been right to run away. He will never deserve the love you had given him in the past.
Even if he were to cut his own string and tie it to yours, you could always cut him off of you, simply running away as you had previously. Perhaps it was simply his curse to be this way. He could never love you now that you were gone, and he was the only one to blame. He is the culprit of his own demise.
How loathsome of him.
ๆฅ
In spring, Jinshi attends the royal court's meeting, lashes thick and full, blinking quickly to blink away his exhaustion. Waking up before the sun was never something worth it. He eats the dishes prepared, listening to the ministers and eunuchs talk about everything. Had you been next to him, he would have had a better time, at least focused for the sake of you, but you are not. Instead, he has Diu who has been testing his dishes, pretty face charming even the married men of the court. Had Diu been born a woman, perhaps he would have been stolen away instantly. Tis a great day for his personal aide to be a man.
Now that Jinshi thinks about it, it was the same with you.
You would be busy reading the material and participating, and the rest of the men would be busy ogling at you. You, who had been raised to be the palace flower, a woman in power worthy of standing next to the second prince. You had been worth far more than what those men could have paid to own you for. Perhaps the late empress was right to make you unattainable to the men of the court. It was disgustingโ the way their eyes raked Diu's figure the same way they raked yours at the time. In his eyes, the men are no better than rabid animals. At least rabid animals were put down.
"Master?" Diu's voice snaps Jinshi out of his thoughts. "Is the dish not to your liking?"
"It is." Jinshi shakes his head. "I have not much an appetite."
"I see." Diu hums. "Shall I request something else?"
"No need." Jinshi finishes the rest of the dish, sighing as he puts his chopsticks down. "What is the next dish?"
"I believe it is pheasant."
Jinshi frowns staring at Diu's lips.
"Did Maomao put lipstick on you?"
"Hm? Is it strange?" Diu smiles, holding his cheek. "She said I should doll up a little as your personal attendant. Though, this isn't lipstick. I believe Maomao simply put something on my face."
Jinshi blinks slowly, mentally swatting away all his thoughts as the next dish arrives and Diu presses it to his lips, biting and chewing slowly. Jinshi stares at his lips, pale and pink, and he swallows unconsciously as Diu licks his lips, lips curled into a smile similar to Maomao's. The men of the court pay attention too, a strange charm emitting off of the servant's body. Enthralling. He looked enthralling, lips curled into that sinful grin. Next thing Jinshi knows, Diu is probably going to tell him it's poisonous like Maomao did years ago.
"You can't have this, master." He hums.
"Why not?" Jinshi swallows, throat dry all of a sudden.
"It is poisonous."
Called it.
The royal court goes into chaos as all the men spit it out, fooled by the way Diu had looked so elated at the flavor, and a handful of servants rush to their aid. Jinshi lunges at Diu as he bites the rest of the meat, punching him in the gut as Diu spits the meat out into Jinshi's hand.
"Are you crazy?!"
"Master, poisons do not affect me." Diu tilts his head, eyes wide. "Rest assured. The one who has tried to harm you will not get off free either."
Jinshi stares at him incredulously, lips pulled into a frown as he calls for a doctor to check the man. He taps his table impatiently as he waits for Diu to return, a new poison tester confirming that the pheasant was indeed poisonous. Jinshi watches as the new guy passes out and white foams from his mouth. How did... how did Diu almost swallow the pheasant without issue? Jinshi tries his best not to think about it, closing his eyes. Perhaps Maomao is just accustomed to people who taste poison without any effects.
Diu returns a little before the final dish is served, giving Jinshi a closed-eyed smile before he tastes the new dish. It is a palate cleanser this time. Jinshi watches in worry as Diu presses the spoon to his lips, eyes opening as he raises a brow. Jinshi cannot tell if it is a good raised brow or a bad one.
"Servant, is it poison?"
"No." Diu smiles. "It is simply delicious. You may have it, master."
Jinshi only has half, cheeks flushed as he hands the rest back to Diu, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he mouthes words at the man.
'Finish the rest.'
Diu does not complain, drinking straight from the bowl as he licks his lips, eyes bright and happy as he hands it to another servant.
"Thank you, master." He beams, smiling.
Jinshi's heart skips a beat.
How dangerous.
The rest of the court proceeds as normal, the report given by the workers, and the emperor nodding at the report. Nothing out of the ordinary. though, he notes the new numbers in spending. When you were there, they were lower. Perhaps a handful of officials are using the chance to steal money from the royal family now that you no longer look over the ledger before each payment. Jinshi should start investigating. Surely the crushing of the Shi clan should have served as a fair warning. Perhaps not.
Jinshi looks back to glance at Diu, the servant's eyes oddly sharp. Usually servants would have gotten bored at this point. Instead, Diu looks almost intrigued. He wonders what kind of an upbringing would have created a man who cared so much about monetary affairs of a palace. Though, it should have been clear since Diu had been the one hired to help with monetary affairs. His mathematical ability was incredible. Had Jinshi a child, he would have hired the man to teach his young his ways.
But in the same, Jinshi knows he would have not needed an outside teacher when you were right there. Should he had kids with you, you could cover the vast majority of teaching have you the time. You know the palace better than him at times. He wonders how you are, lips pulled into a frown as he focuses back on the minister. Perhaps Maomao had given Diu the same makeup you used to wear to mess with him. How mean of her. It pains him in the heart that he had been the one to cut your rope and now was burning his own.
He misses you.
ๅค
Summer is great.
Jinshi has less work during summer as a result, and Diu and Maomao cover the affairs of rearranging the residence. The two are still close. It makes Jinshi bitter, but not bitter in the way he would have been seasons ago, he is bitter that Diu is spending less and less time with him. Perhaps he is bitter that Diu, a man who reminded him of you, spends more time with Maomao than he. It is a reflection of himself, yes, but it does not stop the childish jealously that bubbles in his chest.
"Diu!" Jinshi whines, calling for the servant as he throws open the man's room.
The room is empty, but a familiar scent flutters through the air, knocking the nostalgia right into his lungs. The incense sticks burning are the ones you used to put in the residence. During the few times Jinshi would visit, this scent would always be present in your room, your hair, and your being. This scent was you to him. He finds it strange that Diu would have it in his room, but he does not question it. Perhaps it reminds him of his wife.
"Master? What are you doing in my room?"
Jinshi freezes, caught red-handed. "...I was looking for you." He coughs. "Where were you?"
"I went to run errands with Maomao." Diu bows. "Is something wrong? You were looking at the incense sticks."
"They remind me... anyway." Jinshi tries to stroll out casually. "Is that your favorite scent?"
"My wife." Diu smiles. "It reminds me of my wife."
"I see..." Jinshi trails off. "Whatever! Be sure to tell Maomao to bring me dinner."
Diu calls an affirmative after Jinshi as he rushes out of the room. Too much like you. The scent smelled too much like you. You, who had used perfume oils because you liked it. It reminded Jinshi of your scent for as long as he had known you, the signature smell that brushed his nose apparent for as long as his memories with you would run. Perhaps he would forget about you at night.
Night strikes slowly.
The grief of losing you hits Jinshi slowly.
First, he looks around the room you had prepared for the two of you, the room you had stayed inย alone, fingers brushing on the paint on the wall, a reminder that he needed to call for the painters to repaint the residence. Then, he sits down in bed, robes warm on his skin, eyes tired as he lays down. His fingers brush the silk the same way you would have while inspecting the quality, the same way he had seen Diu do so to the blankets, and he holds it to his forehead, heart stuttering and stumbling, pain in his chest too much to bear. It was simply too much.
Then, he cries.
Jinshi cries, tears slow as he lays in your bed, holding the blankets to his chest as he whimpers, missing you. You. You who had lived in the residence for years without a visit from him. He is undeserving of you. Perhaps he would be cursed to live the rest of his days crying in the same bed you had to cry in. He would be dammed for all of eternity to never see you again. Perhaps that is his curse. He is simply too weak to admit his love, too prideful to bend down first, too lost to find his way again. He wanted nothing to do with you when you traded the whole world for him. His curse would be to never hold you again, even when he needed you the most.
He sniffles, brows pulled together as he clings harder onto the blanket.
He does not notice the footsteps outside the door nor the knocking from Diu.
"Master Jinshi? Are you alright? I hear crying." Diu's voice rings from the door. "I may bring tea if you would allow it. That helps me when I am hurt."
"It is fine." He speaks, voice oddly even.
"I shall bring you a cup of tea and towel to help freshen up. We could not afford to let the master of the house's beauty be wounded." Diu speaks, stepping and walking off.
Jinshi wipes his tears with his fingers, heaving. When Diu returns, he opens the door after a quick knock, setting the tea on the table as he sits by his bed, helping Jinshi up, eyes gentle, hands wiping at his tears with the cloth, and Jinshi sniffs. Diu's eyes remind him of yours, even. The same gentle shade he had grown up seeing, the same shade that sparkled under the sun's light or the moon's reflection. It is a haunting memory of you. Perhaps the two of you are from the same lineage. Or perhaps Jinshi was simply losing it.
"Diu."
"Yes, master?"
"Are you this gentle with your wife?"
"But of course."
Jinshi sighs dramatically. "Maybe in another life I was born your wife."
Diu snorts. "That would be quite hard, master."
"Why?"
"What if I were born a woman as well?"
"Then I would be born your husband." He pouts, eyes red as he stares at the man. "What tea did you bring?"
"Green tea." Diu hums. "Will you drink it?"
"Please." Jinshi frowns. "Could I meet your wife one day?"
"That would be quite hard." Diu frowns, carrying the tray over and setting it down by the bed.
"Why so?"
Diu does not speak, handing the cup to Jinshi instead, smiling.
"Is she gone?"
"It is hard to explain." Diu hums. "Master, let me know if you require anything else."
"No." Jinshi shakes his head, drinking the tea. It's slightly sweet and brewed to perfection.
It tastes like the tea you used to brew.
It brings tears to his eyes unconsciously, a frown on his face. You had learned to brew tea to perfection. The temperature had been right, you had served them in their little cups, lips pressed to the edge of the cup as you tested it for heat, and then set it before Jinshi, offering him a drink. You had brewed green tea without the bitterness that other consorts had, and you had served tea to even the emperor when it was permitted. Jinshi might just be losing it. No, he has not been in a regular state since your disappearance. He is simply reaping the seeds of his actions.
"Is something wrong?"
"You brew tea like someone I used to know." Jinshi shakes his head. "It is a shame she is gone."
"Maomao is not gone, though?"
"My wife." Jinshi purses his lips. He had mentioned it perhaps once or twice, but it had never been more than that. It is not the madam of the house this time, it is his wife. He misses his wife. You, his beloved who had been betrothed to him. He misses you. You were his wife, not his betrothed. He had seen you in red twice now, that was surely confirmation. Even if you were to forget, he fears that he could not. You are his wife, that much is clear. "That is enough for the night. Thank you."
Diu nods, taking the tray out and closing the door with his foot, leaving Jinshi alone with his thoughts.
It is scaryโ
how much Diu resembles you.
Perhaps your ghost is really haunting him through his aide.
็ง
"Maomao." Jinshi hisses.
"Yes, Master Jinshi?" The girl turns to look at him.
"Where did you find Diu? He seems as though he yields from an elite family, yet there are no records of him anywhere." Jinshi raises a brow. "He is far too trained in arithmetic to be from a middle-class family as well."
"Oh, his family records were burned." Maomao shrugs. "He helped me once when I was about to be scammed by a merchant, so I decided to pay him back by employing him. He is good, is he not?"
"He is, but it is highly suspicious." Jinshi grumbles. "Who is his wife?"
"I have never met her."
Jinshi blinks. "You know nothing about him other than that he is good at math and has a wife, and you hired him?"
"Master Jinshi, he is not good atย justย math." Maomao argues. "Sheโ"
"She?"
"I mean," Maomao sighs. "He is good at arranging the interior of the residence, is he not? He is highly trained in both what the women wield and what the men do. I hired him because he was capable in such areas. Are you doubting my loyalty? I value my head, you know? Diu is a great servant."
"That cannot be refuted, butโ"
"I heard my name." Diu flicks Maomao's forehead. "And heard myself get misgendered. I am a man, Maomao. Must you hurt my pride further? I am already a eunuch. My poor wife will never get to experience penetrative pleasure from me because of the profession I have taken."
"Do you have children?" Jinshi raises a brow.
"No, master." Diu shakes his head. "My wife and I are perfectly content with no children. After all, I married into my wife's family."
"Oh, so you yield from nothing?" Jinshi interrogates, leaning onto his palm as he stares the man down.
"Yes." Diu nods. "I yield from nothing. Apart from my wife, I am nothing."
"Suspicious."
"Master." Maomao sighs.
Jinshi holds a hand up to signal for her to stop speaking. "Are you sure you do not yield from money?"
"I do not." Diu nods.
"Then why did Maomao call you a she?"
"Perhaps because I am pretty as one?" Diu winks at Jinshi, blowing a kiss.
Maomao hunches over in laughter as Jinshi fans his face.
"Fair point."
"You are gorgeous too, master." Diu hums. "Pretty like the lilies in the pond... dazzling like the stars in the sky. Surely, if you were a woman, the men would flock to your like bees to a flower."
Jinshi takes a moment to recover, holding his hand up. "The same would go to you, Diu."
"They already do." Diu hums. "I have submitted the report for the season."
"That is good." Jinshi sighs. "Maomao, do not hire random people from the street next time. I am starting to believe you only hired Diu because he is attractive."
"Attractive people need an attractive servants." Maomao shrugs.
Jinshi can't argue with that one.
"Or, perhaps similar people tend to flock to one another." Diu hums, picking up the flower pot with ease.
"Or haunt each other." Maomao mumbles, nodding as the two of them leave the room with the flowers.
It doesย notย take two people to arrange flowers.
Yet, Jinshi pays attention to Maomao's words.
Haunt. Similar people haunt each other.
Maybe that is why he sees you in Diu.
ๅฌ
Jinshi finishes the affairs for the day, groaning and rolling his shoulders back as he returns to your office, expecting the rest of his papers to still be there. Instead, he finds Maomao knocked out on the tea table, a finished stack of paper next to her, completed and only left behind for him to sign and seal. He takes the papers, reading through the contents, writing eerily similar. You are not here, yet the writing mirrors yours perfectly. It is your writing down to the bone. It is the same writing that he had read in your reports and invoices for the residence's monthly fees. Furthermore, it was not Maomao's handwriting.
Something is wrong.
The writing is yours. You are present in the mansion. You had danced on the walls, haunted his life, brewed him tea, and done so many things to him. It was not your ghost. You were there to haunt him. It infuriates him to no end, but you had to have a hand in the residence to be able to do so. You may not be there physically, but surely someone would have been sent to do the dirty work for you. There seems to be someone new doing the dirty work for him, and who else than his new aide? Perhaps this was some twisted divine punishment in the worst way. Perhaps he would not see the end of the world as he knows it, and you would crawl out of your grave to wrap your fingers around his ankle and drag him to hell with you.
Or perhaps Diu was out for revenge on your behalf.
"Hm?" Maomao wakes up first, jumping in her skin when he stares into her eyes harshly.
There are three people in the residence allowed to write reports.
"Who is Diu."
It is not a question. A command. It is a command.
Maomao stares into Jinshi's eyes, sighing, clicking her tongue in disdain.
"I shall rid of him."
"No. Who is he. Answer." Jinshi curses out. "You brought him in. Who is he."
"I owed him a debt so I hired him." Maomao speaks. "It is that simple."
"Who is he."
"Someone you lost."
"Master!" A maid calls. "Come out to the entrance! There is a maid claiming she knows the madam's whereabouts!"
Jinshi glares at Maomao, pointing down to make sure she stays put.
Maomao watches Jinshi rush out, and she sighs, taking the ointment from her pocket. Now to find you. No way in hell she was listening to him in this situation.
Jinshi meets the maid, and he sees through her immediately. A ploy. This is a ploy. This is some cruel set up by fate who wishes for him to be miserable, and the maid did not know where you were at all. Maomao did. Maomao probably knew exactly where you were, and she had probably known for a while now. He was foolish not to realize it, but he knows it now. He is no longer mad, simply exhausted. He misses you. How he wishes you would just appear out of nowhere. That would fix him.
Jinshi looks up when he hears something above.
Something snaps.
ๅฌ
Your lips quirk up from the roof, humming as your voice returns to normal and Maomao wipes the makeup off your face. Your brows are less bushy and your lips turn more delicate. Your lashes remain the same, and you thread your fingers through your hair, smiling as Maomao stares down at the random woman. Talk about timing.
You're sure Jinshi is somewhat aware by now.
You stand up, the tiles clattering under your feet, and you laugh as you stretch your arms above your head, catching the way the woman at the gate pales in horror at the sight of you on the roof. Maomao sits behind you, same wind in her hair, leaning on her palm as you look down at Jinshi with a brow raised, Diu's clothes still on your body. Jinshi's eyes widen as he yells for you, leaving the other woman.
"With that, your debt is paid." You smile at Maomao. "I'll see you around, Maomao."
Maomao watches as you jump over the wall to the residence and Jinshi chase after you.
You sprint through the streets, Jinshi hot on your tail as you weave through the crowds swiftly, leaving Jinshi no chance to catch up to you. You really did think dressing as a man was fun, however much of a shame it was that Jinshi found out that you were the same eunuch hitting on everyone in the residence. You wonder if he'll catch you. At some point, you manage to ditch the outer coat to your shirt, only pants left and the wrap around your chest, throwing the coat at Jinshi to stop him as you rush into the forest.
It does not stop him, and when you dive into the water to get to the cave, a hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you to the surface with it as you kick to be freed. The hand lets go, but not before grabbing your face with a second hand, lips pressed to yours, the two of you float out of the water as Jinshi holds onto your face, legs kicking to keep himself afloat. His grip on your face is solid, no strength spared as he keeps you in place.
"Are you stupid?"
"Me? Stupid?!" You scoff, hands gripping his wrist to try to pull him off. "You're the one who said you would marry no one but Maomao! I simply left because you left me behind!"
"I went back for you!"
"How the hell was I supposed to know that?!" You scream, thrashing against his grip as it tightens, your nails digging into his wrist as he remains unbothered. "You've left me behind so many times! You left me during tea with the fucking emperor so you could save Maomao you nitwit!"
"I needed to save her! You would have done the same! You gave me the army seal!"
"But I would not have neglected you in the outer walls of the palace!" You shriek, finally breaking from his grasp as you dive underwater to swim away.
Jinshi follows after you, hand wrapping around your ankle to pull you to him, hands finding your waist as he pulls you with him to the cave, holding you down on the ground as water drips from his hair onto your face, his vision blurry from something he doesn't know anymore. You make him feel things. The dam holding back all of his emotions for you shatter as he pants, mouth open and chest heaving as he cries, hot tears splattering onto your face, his head hung as you resort to your fate, annoyance all over your face as you wait for him to cry it out.
"Jinshi. You love Maomao. We both knowโ"
"I don't." He whimpers. "I don't. I don't love her."
"Jinshiโ"
somewhere in his subconscious, a rope snags.
"I love you." Jinshi whimpers, tears hot and warm on your cheeks now, dark eyes murky and cloudy, desperation bleeding past his fingers onto your skin as his grip on your tightens, a sob breaking past his lips, almost as if he had been in the same boat as you, the two of you both needing to break in order to be fixed. You had jumped off first, leaving Jinshi on his own as he had to figure out what he needed to do to get you back. You had floated off, lips curled into a peaceful smile and your eyes full of light, only to leave him behind. "I love you." Jinshi repeats again, voice cracking. Deep down, he is still that same child that held hands with you. Both of you were born and bred in order to grow quickly, not spared by the rapids of the palace as you both grew and grew and grew until you were perfect on the outside and hollow on the inside. "I love you." He sobs. "I have loved you for longer than I have been conscious. I did not pick to love Maomao because she had been perfect for me. I had picked her because she had been so full of life and full compared to the both of us. I can't love the same way everyone else does. I have given up my right as emperor, do you not know?! Do you know why you had to treat my wound when Maomao was gone?! I gave up the title! I cannot offer you what you were born and raised for. You deserveโ"
You slap him, breathing heavy as the sound echoes through the cave.
"I deserve far more than you can give me." You speak, voice oddly even. "I deserve the world, but there is no point taking someone else's world when all I have ever been raised to know as my world is you. You should have spoken up and done something to communicate. I deserve the title of empress only because I was raised to become one. Beneath the title, all I deserved was for my childhood friend and the anchor of my life to stare at me just once outside of the royal court."
Jinshi whimpers, head still hung, cheek stinging from your slap.
"I was scared. We both cannot afford to have such weaknesses in the royal palace." Jinshi's voice goes quiet. "If I had revealed that I had an attachment to you, then the assassinations would have targeted you. I do not wish for you to drink more poison than you can take. I already know the previous empress made you swallow and swallow until there was nothing left. You are not a doll to me. You are something precious."
"Well you didn't choose me." You sigh. "We are getting nowhereโ"
"I love you." Jinshi says it again.
"You do notโ"
"I love you." Jinshi stares you in the eye, breathing slowing down and his eyes clear. "Until I stop chasing you under the sun and until the world ends, I love you. Until the heavens themselves strike me down, I will be in love with you. I do not deserve to love you right now, but it does not stop me. I will keep loving you until we return to the dirt of the ground. You may hate me for the rest of your life, despising everything that the royal name I own has put you through, but I will love you. Until I am bleeding my heart out and I become a star in the sky, I will love you. The moon is only gorgeous because it reflects the light from the sun. I am only the moon prince because the sun stands next to me in every event. Without you, I am worth nothing."
"That is a lie and you know it!"
"It is not!" Jinshi yells, lips pressing to yours to shut you up, even when you thrash against him, he holds you down, want and passion rippling through his lips to yours, and even when you accept his kiss, he does not stop, teeth gnashing against yours in something akin to a burning passion. He loves you. You are the sun to his moon, the light that he reflects in his day to day. He may have despised you, but the want that bled through his body at the sight of you was not something he could have ignored either. He loves you. He loves you until he returns to the dust of the world and both of you are lost to history. He loves you until the world caves in on itself and the royal family collapses.
When he finally pulls away, he notices the tears in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.
"I love you." He whispers.
"Your mother was right." You whimper, voice frail and broken as you cry. "I am just a girl. I did not deserve the fate of the universe to rest on my back. I did not deserve for you to neglect me only to cry to me about loving me all alone. I do not deserve this, Jinshi."
"You are just a girl. I am just a boy." He whispers. "Neither of us deserved what we went through. I have never been in the right when it came to treating you. I will spend eternity trying to win you back after losing you. It will be my divine punishment, and the two of us may enter the afterlife, but I will continue to follow you. I have never been right when it has come to you, and I will spend my life regretting that."
And you cry, chest hurt from the years of pain, heart free from the years of hiding.
You are just a girl, and he is just a boy.
Neither of you deserved what you have been put through in the name of a better nation.
And as he ties his burnt rope to your frayed one to fix the gap, neither did he.
You are just a girl, and he is just a boy.
Alone in a royal palace with no real family.
You did not deserve it.
ๆฅ
Jinshi brought you home.
His hand on your lower back as the two of you were drenched from head to toe, he brought you back. Maomao wiped your hair down as you thanked her, same dignified smile on your face as always, thanking Maomao for bringing you back. She helped you clean up, and you were returned to your room, the papers of the residence now split between you and Jinshi. Jinshi helps with what he is capable of, papers on his desk split with yours as you help him sort through the affairs of the residence. You are much more well-versed in it than he is.
"Beloved." Jinshi groans. "I need a drink."
You snort, sliding a paper to the side. "Ask Maomao for a drink. I need to make a round in the residence. The new blankets are coming today."
"When will we be wed? We must celebrate your return."
"I find no reason to if I never left." You hum. "You are still yet to propose to me. Not to mention how Maomao still has the hairpin you have given her."
"She does not." Jinshi raises a brow. "She traded it for wen at the pawn store when we went to the streets to get coins."
You raise a brow incredulously.
"You can ask her." Jinshi goes back to whining, Gaoshun sighing.
"Madam." Maomao knocks at the door. "Do you have time?"
You nod, closing the door behind you, and one of the maids hands you something with a bow and runs off when you accept it. It is a treat. Your lips quirk up as you unwrap it, handing Maomao one as you press the other one to your lips. The two of you chew quietly, and you stare at the pond. The red is all gone. You're not sure how Jinshi did it, but he had gotten rid of the blood you stained in it three winters prior. It had been gone for a while now. Yet, you do not say much, chewing on the peanut treat, tossing some at the ducks in the garden as you squat down.
"When is your wedding?"
"There is no need for one." You mumble. "Jinshi may not remember it, but we had been wed already."
Maomao blinks. "You were?"
"It was a simple ceremony. I had no family, so the empress had the two of us wed in secret before her death." You hum. "They dressed me up in red and proceeded with customs, but we continued to refer to each other as betrothed simply because it would be been troublesome for us to be married with no children."
"I see." Maomao mumbles. "Does he remember?"
"I do not believe soโ"
You jump in your skin when Jinshi brushes his fingers over the nape of your neck.
"How could I not?" He pouts. "Though, you deserve a bigger wedding. It is the least I should do after putting you through so much."
You grimace at him. "Perhaps we should start from the beginning. Best of luck sending a proposal letter to my nonexistent family, Jinshi."
"No, we should pick up from the wedding." He frowns. "The bed. We never shared a bed."
"Because the empress passed away that same night so no one was there to watch us to rest together." You roll your eyes. "Treat?"
He takes one, humming. "I would prefer to host the wedding again."
You shrug. "The one to plan shall be you, despite the traditional way to go about it. It is not like I can bed you, anyway."
Maomao blinks slowly, cogs turning in her head. You watch, lips curled into a smile when it clicks for her.
"He's a eunuch." She pauses. "Which is why they did not make him bed you."
"Bingo!" You grin. "The second prince officially has one spouse. Master Jinshi has none."
"...then why do the maids here refer to him as master?"
"We force them to be tight-lipped." Jinshi hums. "Anyone who lets a word slip is executed. You live longer when you are tight lipped in this residence."
"I kill at least three maids a year." You hum. "You should watch. I line them up and shoot arrows at them."
Maomao blinks at you in concern. She supposes it is adequate since revealing Jinshi's true name would be like selling him out, but the idea of you wielding a bow... She pauses. No. You've cut a man's head off clean before. It is not out of character. It is simply out of character for the persona you display in front of the royal palace. Huh. Amusing. The contradiction of your quiet personality and the reality of your abilities. Perhaps you had been groomed in such a way to prevent your turning on the late empress.
"You are strange."
"Yes." You smile. "Very strange."
"You know what is strange? The fact that you are not my wife yet." Jinshi sighs dramatically.
You snort.
"Shall we get married in fall? When the harvest is most bountiful?"
"Perhaps." You yawn. "Though, you are to prepare everything."
"Except the dress?" Jinshi pauses. "No. It would be best if I pick the dress. I would simplyโ"
You smack him in the back of his head. "Bad. Leave the dress and decorations to me. You will simply plan the day and time."
"Yes, beloved." He pouts.
In the distance, a maid waves her hand, and you nod at Jinshi heading off.
Maomao's gaze lingers on you, only speaking up when you are out of earshot.
"Perhaps a new hairpin for her would be good as well."
"Well obviously." He pouts. "Perhaps you know what gem she would prefer?"
"Perhaps out of jade." She turns to look at Jinshi. "And hand carved."
Jinshi spits out blood.
Alright. For you.
Jinshi finishes the hairpin surprisingly fast, going home with ash on his face more often than he liked, but the hairpin is finished, jade shiny under the sun, pearls fastened with red silk, perfect for you to wear. It weighs light in his hand, but the metal is precious. So, he waits for a nice spring day, the sky clear and blue, sun in the sky, and he calls you out for tea.
This time, it would be his turn to chase after you,
and he was determined to get you back.
After all, by the stars and the moon, by your birthdays and luck, you were destined.
And even if you were just a girl and he was just a boy, at least he was your boy.
If you would let him, of course.
After all, his rope is fastened to yours forever now.
SUMMARY: it's been two years since you last had a proper conversation with chrollo; seven since the last time the two of you could be considered friends. you don't care to be close to him anymoreโor at least, that's what you try to convince yourself, but you don't know how much longer your conviction will hold.
(wordcount: 10.6k, fem!reader, phantom troupe member!reader, angst with happy-ish ending, i took advantage of some things that were left blank (particularly kortopi LOL) for The Plot, reader's pov is a bit hypocritical/contrarian at times but that's intentional, hisoka being hisoka, a bit of a steamy make out sesh)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys ......... be gentle with me it's baby's first steps outside of bsd fandom KADFHAUISHFASUDIFHA ok no i actually had so much fun writing this fic HAHAH it gave me a rlly fun opportunity to dive into a new type of reader. i've always been interested in exploring the trope of like one person feeling left behind as everyone else arounds them changes for the worst, and that person struggling to accept what's happening. this fic gave me the perfect opportunity for it, because we have reader who is watching all of her childhood friends change in such awful ways, and even though she KNEW this was the path they were going down, it's different seeing it. we see how she struggles with trying to figure out if it's them and their actions that have her so upset, or if it's just the fact that she hasn't changed along with them. BUT IT WAS FUN, because i don't often write readers who struggle with morality/understanding their own actions, so this was a fun opportunity for me. ALSOOOOOO i thought it was so fun exploring her and chrollo. i think chrollo's dynamics are SO different depending on when he meets his partner and it was fun exploring that. like this is one avenue where they grow up together and have a deep history & shared past/trauma in meteor city, and conversely, if you've been following my blog, im exploring a relationship dynamic with a reader he meets much later in life (succession contest arc) which is much more . difficult LOL. and i decided to have some fun with kortopi bc 1) we know very little about him / his past and 2) .... the DRAMA AND TRAGEDY knowing what happens after the hisoka-chrollo fight HEHEHEH BUT EITHER WAY there was a lot i got to explore in this and i was very happy with it. AND A SPECIAL THANKS TO MY BELOVED RILEY WAHHHHHHHHH SHE READ OVER THIS FOR ME WHEN I WAS MELTING DOWN ABOUT MY CHROLLO CHARACTERIZATION AND THE PLOT I LOVE U SO DEEPLY RILEY
Chrollo is no longer as he once was.
Your gaze lingers on him as he flips through a book a few feet away from you. The others left for their mission, and youโre going to be left alone with him until they get back. You donโt often see him anymore, careful to keep away unless he specifically asks you to show up for a mission, but every time you do, it always ends the sameโwith you upset and lost, unsure of what youโre doing and whatโs become of the people you loved.ย
Youโve known heโs been gone for a very long time, but still, when the two of you are alone, you canโt help yourself from looking for the boy you once knew. The one who would bring fresh flowers to the graves at the church, and translated movies for the other children in Meteor City, performing them himself when they no longer could watch them. You think you get glimpses of him when he doesnโt think anyone is around. When the others have all left for missions, and he thinks heโs alone in base, but heโs always quick to school his expression when he realizes that you stayed back.ย
Youโve known Chrollo Lucilfer for as long as you can remember. One of your first clear memories is of him helping you to your feet after you were tripped by one of the rowdy boys at church. Your knees were bleeding, and you were desperately trying not to cryโyou only had one dress that was suitable for church, and it was ripped and bloody, totally ruined. You would never be able to wear it again, and the matron had explicitly told you to take good care of it or she would never let you have first pick from the clothes recovered at the dumping grounds ever again.
Chrollo had made it all right. He did that a lot back then. He helped people. He went out of his way to make sure everyone around him was okay. He had no idea who you were, but he took you to the back of the church anyway and spent three hours helping you wash out the blood from your dress and hand-sewing the rips to make it all good as new. You didnโt talk much and were nervous being around a boy you had never met, but Chrollo was quick to fill the silence, telling you about how he had learned to stitch up his clothes and wash out dirt and grime because he was constantly at odds with other kids in the junkyard city and had no way of getting any others if these were to be ruined.
Bandages were both a commodity and a necessity in Meteor City; those who got injured were prone to infection and death if open wounds came into contact with the many toxins and bacteria found in the dumping grounds. Still, he gave you the last of his and smiled at you, telling you not to worry about it because he was sure heโd find others, and you needed it more than he did in that moment.ย
It was just who he was. Kind. Giving. Bright. He had given you hope back then. Father Lisores had said it too: he believed that Chrollo could bring a better world to Meteor City because he was so full of light and kindness and spirit. That was why you turned a blind eye to his plans after Sarasaโs death, even when Sheila begged you to come with her and told you that Chrollo and the others were turning into the people that you all hated so much. It was why you followed him when he created the Phantom Troupe, even if you were unsure of its direction and what Chrollo was becoming.
โWhat are you thinking?โ he asks quietly when your staring becomes too obvious.ย
He doesnโt lift his gaze from his book, but you can tell heโs stopped reading because his eyes are no longer flitting from line to line. This isnโt the first time heโs tried to talk to you in the past few years. Usually, youโll pretend you didnโt hear him, and he wonโt press again, taking your silence as the rejection that it was, but this time, you find yourself hesitating.
โDo you remember how we first met?โ you question, tracing patterns with your shoe against the dusty floors of the abandoned building the Troupe has claimed as a base for its most recent mission. You notice the way his eyes widen slightly when he realizes youโve decided to answer him this time, but heโs quick to hide it.
โOf course,โ he murmurs. He flips to the next page of his book even though you know very well he hasnโt read the last. You almost roll your eyes, but refrain. โOne of the most defining moments of my life.โ
You let out a sharp puff of air thatโs too scornful to be considered a laugh, turning your head away. โDonโt be so dramatic.โ
โIโm not,โ he replies so seriously that it makes your throat swell. You canโt bear to lift your gaze to look at him, so you keep it trained on the ground instead. โOur first meeting changed a lot for me.โ
โI think about it a lot,โ you whisper, more to yourself than to him. โWhen we were kids. Everything was soโฆ. different.โ
You want to say easier, but the word doesnโt feel right on your tongue. There was nothing easy about growing up in Meteor City, even compared to what your life has become. Death was too imminent a threat when you were far too young, and you became well acquainted with loss and mourning before the first smile ever reached your lips.ย
It was not easier, but it was different.
โYou were so scared back then,โ he muses, and your gaze flickers up to see the faint smile teasing at the corner of his lips. โYou latched onto me after we met. Hid behind me when the other kids would badger you for the trinkets you collected. Made me shoo them all away for you.โ
You find yourself snorting despite yourself, and you lift your hand to your lips to hide your smile. โI did not latch onto you. And I was not scared.โ
You did and were. You remember it vividly. You hated confrontation with the other kids, and Chrollo was quick to try to protect the people around him, even at the cost of himself, so you hung around him in hopes of him intervening when they came to try to get you to give up the things you collected from the junkyard. Youโre sure that he knew what you were doing, but he still stepped in on your behalf every time. Even if it usually ended with him being pummeled by someone bigger and stronger than himโat least until Sheila and Sarasa started stepping in.
โYou definitely did,โ he disagrees. โIn fact, you clung to the back of my shirt so much that you ripped holes in it.โ
โLiar,โ you accuse, but youโre smiling.
โNot at all,โ he says, and his eyes are glittering in a way thatโs achingly familiar as he finally looks up at you. His expression is soft, and his lips are curved up, but he looks so sad that it makes your chest hurt. โDo you remember how you would sneak into my room at the orphanage?โ
โThe matrons would get so mad at me,โ you agree.ย
You never liked sleeping aloneโnot back then, and not now. Youโre distant with Chrollo now, but Pakunoda often shares a room with you because she knows about your frequent night terrors and anxiety being alone, and when she canโt, Machi or Kortopi will. They all know how you feel about being alone, so theyโre careful to make sure that youโre not. Although they donโt like anyone pointing that out because they hate being seen as soft, even by their friends, so theyโll often mask their decision with a complaint about how the others are being annoying, so theyโre going to relax with you instead.
โI had to smooth-talk you out of trouble every time,โ he adds. โOtherwise, you wouldโve been stuck scrubbing the floors for weeks.โ
โI felt safe with you,โ you say quietly after a moment of silence. Chrollo pauses at your words, lips pressing together as he looks back down at his book. โYou were so bright, Chrollo. Everyone gravitated toward you.โ
He doesnโt respond for a while. You donโt really expect him to. A strange expression crosses his face as he stares at the pages he isnโt reading, and you let out a soft breath as you look to the side, out the open window to the night sky. The others are all out completing their assigned missionโa grand heist against one of the elder Kakin princes that will certainly end in mass death and tragedy. You try not to think about it. Your role isnโt involved with carrying out Chrolloโs schemes; you only stick around for the aftermath to make sure everyone is okay, and then you go back to Meteor City with Kortopi until Chrollo calls you back to him for another mission.ย
Sometimes itโs hard to push out of mind that the more you save your friends, the more you condemn others.
How much blood is on your hands? How many lives couldโve been saved if you prioritized the greater good instead of the people you canโt stop chasing? Every time you pull one of your friends from the edge, you drag countless others to it.ย
โYou donโt anymore?โ he asks, an odd tone to his voice as he pointedly keeps his gaze averted from you.
โHm?โ you hum with a frown, glancing back over to him.ย
โYou donโt feel safe with me anymore?โ he elaborates, gaze shifting back up to you. You canโt hold his gaze for long; you havenโt been able to in years, and you hate how his expression drops when he realizes that. His lips part like he wants to say something, but then he presses them together again like heโs decided against it.
โI donโt feel unsafe with you,โ you answer, and when heโs visibly displeased by your response, you sigh and admit, โI hardly know who you are anymore, Chrollo.โ
Chrollo doesnโt answer, but he does frown and turn his head to the side. His lips curve down into a frown, and that unreadable look in his eyes returns. For a second, you can almost imagine that the two of you are back in Meteor City, back when you were young, after Sarasaโs death. He disappeared in the days between finding her body and the funeral, but you found him after hours of searching on the far side of the city, sitting by himself as he stared off into the distance. He had that same look in his eyes then as he does now; you wonder what heโs thinking about.
Youโre about to say something else to break the silence when the door to the makeshift base crashes open and draws your attention away. Uvogin bursts into the room, expression twisted and breathing heavily. You rise to your feet, gaze trained on him as you wait for him to speak. Uvogin looks between you and Chrollo briefly before he focuses on you.
โWe need you on the field. Kortopi got injured; Machi is using her threads to keep him stable, but they keep unwinding because of whatever ability is affecting him. She canโt keep it up for much longer.โ
You glance back at Chrollo, whose brows furrow at Uvoginโs words, but he frowns and says, โGo.โ
---------
Kortopi is the youngest member of the Phantom Troupe. Heโs not a founding member, only because he was six at the time of its founding, but heโs hung around you all for as long as you can remember. When he was three, his older sister would take him to the shows that the Troupe put on for the children of Meteor City, and when she was killed by infection after being wounded by a stray dog less than a year later, it was you who took him under your wing. You were only twelve yourself, but you promised his sister that you would protect him, and you were adamant on keeping that promise no matter the cost.
For years, he watched the Phantom Troupe from the sidelines, and you realized that you had your job cut out for you. He idolized Chrollo; you canโt really blame him for that, everyone idolized Chrollo, but he spent all of his time desperately trying to master nen so that he could convince Chrollo to let him become a spider. You were against it from the beginning. That was back when you and Chrollo were still close, so you had no issue arguing with him when he told Kortopi that once he mastered a nen ability, he would have a spot with them. He dismissed you every time you tried to bring it up, and he told you that you were being too stubborn and this was the best course of action, and it led to the two of you being on frigid, but not quite hostile terms.ย
Kortopi was fifteen when Chrollo finally deemed his mastery enough to join, and you were livid over it. Chrollo dismissed you yet again when you raised your concerns, and he reminded you that you, he, Pakunoda, and Machi were all younger when you joined the Troupe. But it was different, you insisted, Kortopiโs sister had been someone you cared deeply about, and she begged you to protect Kortopi for her when she was on her deathbed. Not only that, but Chrollo promised to help you. Youโve raised him since he was four years oldโyou didnโt want this life for him, you donโt even want it for yourself.ย
It was your first major argument with him, and it was the first rift that led to the ruin of your friendship. The day Chrollo let Kortopi into the Phantom Troupe was the day you realized heโd changed beyond recognition, and it was the day you stopped clinging to your past with him.
โHeโll be okay?โ Uvogin asks gruffly, kneeling behind you.ย
The rest of the members assigned to this mission are sitting around you, waiting to hear that everything is fine. Or, most of them wereโUvogin, Machi, Nobunaga, and Pakunoda were with you. The other most recent addition to the Troupe is nowhere to be found, naturally. Unease claws at your chest. Chrolloโs decision to let Hisoka Morow into the Phantom Troupe was another that you were very displeased with, but because the two of you have hardly talked in the past two years, you didnโt say anything.
Not that it would matter. Chrollo doesnโt care to take your opinion into account. He made that very much clear when he dismissed you and allowed Kortopi into the Troupe.
โYeah,โ you say quietly, smoothing out the boyโs messy hair. Heโs still so youngโonly seventeenโbut he looks even younger with his breath so shallow and his eyes slid shut. Resentment towards Chrollo bubbles in your chest again, but you push it away as you shut your eyes and shake your head. Now isnโt the time for that. โCould you carry him back to base, Uvo?โ
โYup,โ the man agrees, shifting closer to you to scoop the small boy up into his arms. His brows furrow in concern as he looks down at you. โYou alright getting back?โ
โIโll walk with her,โ Pakunoda offers, and Uvogin nods before taking off with Nobunaga. Machi hesitates, casting you a long look before she follows after the two of them. โAre you okay?โ
โI told him this would happen,โ you say tightly. You donโt need to say who the โhimโ isโPakunoda knows better than anyone. Sheโs been caught between the two of you since the day the tension began seven years ago. โI told him, Paku. If I had been a second later, Machiโs nen wouldโve been exhausted and Kortopi wouldโve bled out.โ
โI know,โ Pakunoda replies quietly as you two make your way down the street back in the direction of base. โThis shouldnโt have happened.โ
โHow did it happen?โ you ask sharply, gaze cutting to the side to look at her. For a second, you feel so angry that it makes you sick because it shouldnโt have happened. Pakunoda instantly gives you a concerned look, making you realize that your rage is seeping into your aura. Instantly, you push it away and clear your throat. โIt was a simple mission. You and Kortopi go in for the information and the artifacts while the others pose as other attendees to keep an eye on the two of you in case things go wrong. Except it wasnโt supposed to go wrong. How did it go wrong?โ
Pakunoda pauses and then says honestly, โIโm not sure. It was very sudden; everything was fine one moment, and then all hell broke loose. The only reason I wasnโt hit alongside Kortopi was that I reacted faster.โ
Your expression twists immediately. โThe clown?โ you ask, voice low.
โNo,โ Pakunoda disagrees, shaking her head. When you give her a suspicious look, she continues, โHisoka seemed just as caught off guard as the rest of us. I think it was the nen ability of the Second Prince or one of her subordinates. They didnโt seem to recognize us, but when it came closer to the time of the heist, it was like they were able to sense when our intentions became more hostile.โ
โI donโt like it,โ is all you say in response. โWe need to make sure all of the cameras around that building are wiped. The last thing we need is one of the Kakin Princes coming down on Meteor City in retaliation for our actions here.โ
โThatโs if they figure out weโre from there,โ Pakunoda replies, but thereโs an uncomfortable expression on her face like she knew the risk was there, but didnโt expect it to actually become a possibility.
โOnce they figure out there are no official records of our existence, itโll be quite easy for them to realize where we must come from,โ you say dryly, shaking your head. โI donโt know what heโs thinking, Paku. He must realize that operations like this put the city more at risk than anything else. Thereโs only so long fear tactics will work in preventing intervention. Eventually, theyโre going to decide the risks outweigh the benefits of making a statement against us by targeting the city.โ
โThen the city will strike back,โ Pakunoda replies. โYou know the law of retribution. Theyโre not defenseless. Theyโve handled things this way long before we started doing what weโre doing.โ
You rub your face in frustration. โThe elders retaliate. They deter people from wronging the city by making sure it doesnโt go without consequence. We arenโt retaliating, Paku. Weโre instigating. And weโre instigating powerful people, not some knock-off mafia. Weโre talking about the Kakin Military and the princesโ personal armies. The elders can retaliate against mafias stealing our kids and other cities for wrongful persecution, but what the hell do you expect them to do when another nationโs military comes down on them?โ
Pakunoda says your name with a sigh. This isnโt the first time youโve tried to have this conversation with one of them, and it always goes the same every time. Theyโve changed in the same way Chrollo has, and you donโt know why you havenโt yet, but Pakunoda at least will hear you out. So sheโs unfortunately stuck listening to you vent out your frustrations.
โIโm serious,โ you continue, stopping in your tracks and folding your arms over your chest. โHow far have we deviated from our original goals, Paku? What weโre doingโitโs mindless killing, mindless thieving. This isnโt preventing what happened to Sarasa from ever happening again; weโve become worse than the people we united against, and weโre not even protecting Meteor City anymore. Do you really think that people are so scared of us that they wonโt ever step foot in the city? Because thatโs not how the world works, Paku. I know you know that, and I donโt know why weโre all pretending otherwise. Even if theyโre scared of us, and they canโt track us down and kill us, they will go to the defenseless and send us a message through them eventually. What weโre doing is not only delaying the inevitable, but each mission of ours is making the inevitable retaliation exponentially worse.โ
Pakunoda doesnโt like it when Sarasa is brought up. Her breath gets all shaky, and her voice gets wobbly, so you immediately regret it when you see how the woman cringes and looks away. You immediately avert your gaze to the ground, guilty.ย
โWhat do you want me to say?โ she asks you quietly.
โI donโt know.โ Your voice breaks over the words, and you squeeze your eyes shut to fight the tears. Pakunoda squeezes your forearm gently. โI donโt like what weโve become, Paku. And I know that Chrollo said this was the direction we would be taking from the beginning, butโI justโitโs just different knowing versus it actually happening. No matter what he couldโve said back then, I never wouldโve expected this is where we would be eleven years later.โ
The two of you continue down in the direction of your temporary base in silence. You had a bad feeling the moment Chrollo messaged you to tell you there was another mission you were needed for, and even though you know Kortopi is going to be okay, you canโt help but fear for the day he wonโt be. That all of them wonโt be. Because thatโs what has become inevitable nowโthe only thing left guaranteed is death. For the residents of Meteor City, it has always been a risk that has weighed more heavily than most, but because of who you guys are and what you all have done, itโs going to come sooner rather than later. Itโs only a matter of time before you canโt save themโฆ or yourself.ย
โItโs not easy on him either, you know?โ Pakunoda says softly, and you exhale sharply, looking away. โDonโt be like that. You, of all people, should understand.โ
You donโt understand.
Thatโs what you want to say, at least.
But every time you close your eyes, all you can see is the haunted expression on his face as he looked into the sack that contained Sarasaโs body. The burden he decided to carry on his own when he read whatever was on that note and refused to share it with anyone else, because whatever it said was too horrific for him to bear letting anyone else know. The lack of light in his eyes when he declared to the rest of you what he would do after three yearsโ time had passed.ย
You donโt want to understand.
You canโt let yourself believe that the boy he used to be still exists somewhere deep inside of him. Not because you donโt desperately wish to have that boy back, but because the memory of him is too tainted, stained in the blood heโs spilt since casting aside his old self. That sweet boy couldnโt possibly still be here with you. You canโt imagine that the boy who taught you how to read and spent hours scouring the junkyard for the last swan you needed for your collection of bird figures is the very same man who shamelessly broke his promise to you when he allowed Kortopi to join the Troupe, even as you begged him not to. That the same hands that patched up your knees when you fell and stroked your hair when you struggled to fall asleep had butchered women and children for the sake of rare eyes.
ย It canโt beโhe canโt be.ย
โHe misses you a lot,โ Pakunoda continues. You want to scream at her to shut up, but your throat is too clogged. You hate this. You hate this. โWhenever he calls meetings that arenโt mandatory, he always waits for you, even though he knows youโre not going to come. He hides it well, but heโs disappointed every time.โ
โStop, Paku,โ you finally force out. โThatโs enough.โ
She adds, โYou should talk to him. Kortopi feels guilty, too, you know? He feels like itโs his fault you guys donโt talk anymore.โ
โStop, Paku,โ you repeat.
Pakunoda sighs, but she doesnโt push anymore.ย
Sheโs wrong, you tell yourself. Youโll stay long enough for the debrief in the morning, and then youโre gone again. Back to Meteor City to help the people whom you swore to help all of those years ago. Chrollo will be far from mind.
---------
The base is eerily quiet when you get back. You didnโt go in with Pakunoda right away; you decided to sit on the bench outside the building until nightfall. You didnโt want to risk running into Chrollo, and you figured that by now, he would have headed to the room he claimed.ย
Uvogin and Nobunaga were passed out drunk in the front lobby when you came in, and Machi was napping at Kortopiโs bedside, checking up on him when the exhaustion of using her nen so much finally caught up to her. Pakunoda was reading a book in the lobby area, keeping an eye on who comes and goes. She gave you a long look when you first entered the building, but you pointedly ignored it.
Now, youโre going up to claim a room of your own. Chrollo, at least, had enough sense to pick a building that used to be a hotel, so there were countless rooms, even if most of them were rather dilapidated. You think maybe youโll go to the top floor; the walk up the stairs will give you some time to think andโ
โOh, hey,โ an unfortunately familiar voice says from behind you. โWe havenโt had the chance to talk yet.โ
You stiffen immediately, glancing over your shoulder to where the red-headed jester called Hisoka is leaning against the wall, flicking one of his cards around. His lips are curled up into an unreadable smile as he eyes you, and it makes your skin crawl. You donโt know what was going through Chrolloโs head when he decided to let the man into the Troupe; everything about him rubs you the wrong way. You know youโre not the only one, tooโFeitan and Franklin donโt like him either, and though Pakunoda wonโt say it out loud, you know sheโs wary of the Troupeโs newest member.
โYeah,โ you agree, voice cool. โThat was intentional, clown.โ
Hisokaโs eyes widen at your words, a giggle escaping his lips. โOh my, the kitten has claws,โ he coos, taking a step closer to you. โFrom the way everyone spoke about you, I figured you were as docile as a lamb.โ
He reaches out to tug at a stray strand of your hair, and you instinctively move to shift away, but freeze when a cold, heavy energy slithers across the back of your neck and rests over your shoulders. โNow, now, I only want to talk.โ
Is thisโฆ his Ren?
You canโt move. Your legs are tense like you want to run, but your feet are rooted to the ground. Your throat is so tight that you canโt even push a noise from your lips, much less a call for one of the others. Youโve felt plenty of people's Ren before, but never like this. Most peopleโs aura bursts outward in an unshaped rush of strength, heavy and hot, a show of force thatโs easy enough to brace against. Hisokaโs slides over your skin, cold and insidious, curling around your body like smoke as it chokes you; his bloodlust made tangible, heโs letting you know, with perfect control, just how easily he could kill you if he wanted.ย
โHow cute,โ he teases, and then his Ren disappears like it was never there at all.
You instantly dart away from him, breath ragged and gaze accusing as you lift your hand to your rapidly beating heart. With some space between the two of you, you hiss, โYouโโ
โRelax,โ he drawls, tilting his head to the side as he smiles at you lazily. โI was only teasing. Iโve been excited to meet you, you see. Iโve heard a lot about you.โ
Thatโsโฆ ominous, you think, too rattled to have any other coherent thought. You doubt that the others have told Hisoka much about you, so heโs probably been lurking around eavesdropping, which means you have no idea what he mightโve heard or gathered from them.ย
You donโt reply to him, but heโs studying you carefully like heโs trying to figure something out. You want to leave, but your body just isnโt cooperating with you, still thrown off by his oppressive Ren. After what feels like an eternity, he lets out an airy sigh, eyes sliding shut as he tilts his head back.
โNever mind,โ he sings, waving his hand flippantly and turning to leave. โIt would be tooโฆ boring to do it this way. Iโll just go about it the hard way.โ
โWhat the hell are you talking about?โ you demand, unnerved, but Hisoka doesnโt respond, disappearing around the corner. You breathe out to yourself, โWhat the fuck just happened?โ
You lean back against the wall, trying to get some control over your heart, but no matter how hard you try, your fingers wonโt stop trembling. What was that? What did he mean by โgo about it the hard wayโ? What just happened?
Youโre not sure, but you have a feeling itโs bad news.
-----
You find yourself standing outside the room that Chrollo claimed for himself. You donโt even really remember how you got here; once you finally got yourself moving after that encounter with Hisoka, your feet brought you here on their own.ย
After all these years, itโs still Chrollo you seek out in your times of distress.
You sigh, head hanging forward just a bit before you push open the door to his room. Your breath catches when you see him lounging back in his bed, reading a book. Heโs wearing a loose, long-sleeved white shirt, the laces in the front are mostly undone, and his hair is hanging around his face, free from the slickback he usually styles it in. He looks so at ease that it makes your heart ache.
โWhat is it?โ he asks coolly before he even looks up, probably expecting Pakunoda or Machi. โIโโ
His gaze flickers up, and his expression immediately shifts. His lips part, and his eyes widen ever so slightly. He shuts his book quickly and pushes himself up into a sitting position, gaze roving over you like he doesnโt even fully believe that youโre there.
โOh,โ he says, voice soft like heโs worried that if heโs too loud or sudden, it might scare you away. Something in his face changes when you donโt respond right away, his brows knit together, and his lips flatten. He senses something is wrong instantlyโhe still knows you better than anyone after so much time apart. He rises to his feet and makes his way over to you, voice more serious as he asks, โWhat happened? Are you okay?โ
He lifts his hand as if to cup the side of your face, but he hesitates just before he touches you, like he isnโt sure if he should. You let your eyes slide shut as you close the distance, leaning into his palm and letting out a shaky breath.ย
Immediately, he lifts his other hand to hold your face gently between his palms, brushing his fingers across your cheekbones as his eyes trace over you, trying to figure out what you arenโt saying. His touch is so familiar, so warm, itโs hard to remember all of the things you were convincing yourself of earlier when the hands that cradle you feel the same as the ones that once patched up your injuries and stroked your hair to help you fall asleep.
He touches you with bloodstained hands, you remind yourself. Women, childrenโhow many people have suffered under the same hands that hold you so carefully?
โTell me what happened,โ he says, voice firm, gray eyes sharp as he waits for you to answer him.
When you donโt again, he sighs and steps closer, his hand sliding from the side of your face to the back of your head as he pulls you into him. You take in a sharp, wet breath when he holds you in his arms, ear pressed to his chest. His heart beats steadily, thrumming in your ear, the same rhythm you were so intimately acquainted with years ago.
โI donโt know what happened,โ you finally answer as you sink into his arms, drowning in the familiar beat of his heart. โI donโtโฆโ
โDid something happen on the way back?โ he asks you, and you let out a shaky breath as he traces patterns on your back. โWhile you were sitting outside?โ
Of course, he knew you were out there, you think. You wonder if he picked one of the rooms looking over the front of the building specifically so he could keep an eye on you while you were sitting out by the old, dry fountain. You open your eyes and focus on the window seat on the far side of the room, where the cushions are shifted around as if someone had recently been sitting there.
โNo,โ you say after a moment. โIt was in here. Hisokaโheโฆโ
You trail off, unsure how to describe what took place between the two of you, but just having the name is clearly enough for Chrollo, who stiffens. Something dark crosses his expression, and in an instant, youโre reminded of the fact that he has changed, but he doesnโt give you much time to linger on the thought when he asks, voice low, โDid he hurt you?โ
โNo,โ you say again, shaking your head. โIt was justโโ
You grimace, hand flying to your abdomen as ghost pains shoot through your body. Chrollo immediately steadies you, brows furrowing as he looks down at where youโre holding, as if searching for a wound that you donโt have.
โItโs just the after effects,โ you tell him before he can get the wrong idea. โFrom healing Kortopi.โ
Chrollo frowns, but he leads you over to the bed so that you can lay down. You think that you should leave; you didnโt even intend on coming here, you were planning on just finding a bed to ride out the worst of the pain and then disappearing after the debrief in the morning. You donโt want to reconcile with Chrollo; youโre fine with how things are. Youโre fine with the distance between the two of you. Youโre fine being alone. Heโs not who he once was, and you want nothing to do with who he has become.
Still, you put up no resistance when he lays you down on the mattress and fluffs the pillow behind your head so that you can rest comfortably. You donโt pull your hand back when he sits on the bed next to you and entwines his fingers with yours over your stomach. You canโt bring yourself to look away when his gaze meets yours. His eyes are too dark, too unreadable; thereโs not even a hint of the light that once used to fill them.
โWhat happened with Hisoka?โ he finally presses, breaking the silence that had drawn on for too long between you two. He lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face, but this time you do turn your face away, if only slightly. Chrollo pauses, hand freezing midair, and then he lets it drop back down to his lap.
โNothing,โ you say quietly. โIt was just weird. Everything is with him, though.โ
Chrollo doesnโt look convinced, but you turn your face to the side, looking away from him to the peeling wallpaper on the far side of the room. You donโt know what youโre doing here; you donโt know why you stepped into his room. You shouldโve just went on your way and found yourself a room like you were planning to; you donโt like being around the others when youโre facing the consequences of using your nen ability, even if it does mean spending the night alone. They worry about you too much; whenever theyโre reminded of the fact that you take on the pain meant for them, they become averse to letting you heal them.
โIs there another room on this floor?โ you ask him, hating how hoarse your voice sounds.
โYou donโt have to do that,โ he frowns. โYou can stay here.โ
You look at him from the corner of your eye, watching as his lips press together tightly and his throat bobs. For a second, he almost looks hurt, but then his face smooths out again as he forces his lips up into a small smile.
โRight,โ he agrees softly, pulling his other hand back from where it had been holding yours. There shouldnโt be a pit in your stomach over it. This is what you wantโdistance. You and Chrollo Lucilfer are better off strangers than anything else. Youโre not friends anymore, and youโre certainly notโฆ โI can find a different room. Stay here and rest.โ
You sigh. โChrollo.โ
โItโll be a few hours before it passes, right?โ he presses. Heโs concerned, you can see it in his eyes. For a second, theyโre familiar againโthe same ones that would hover over you when you got yourself hurt searching for trinkets in the junkyard. โYou shouldnโt move around too much. I can find a different room.โ
โStop,โ you say, shaking your head. โI can move to another room, Chrollo. Itโs fine, itโs hardly begun yet; itโll just be periodic waves for the next hour until it really hitsโyou know that. I justโโ
โStay.โ You can tell heโs aiming for it to come out as an order, but it lands more desperate than he would like. He immediately averts his gaze and then repeats more quietly, โJust stay.โ
You pause and then tell him, โOn one conditionโI want you to answer something for me.โ
Chrollo exhales, eyes unsure and shoulders tense for a second too long before he finally nods, signaling for you to ask your question.
โWhy?โ you breathe out, and before he can press, you continue, โWhat are we doing, Chrollo? Donโt give me that whole becoming villains for the rest of the world to fear spiel, because you and I both know youโre full of shit. Weโre not protecting Meteor City by doing all of this, so why? Tell me why.โ
Chrollo looks away, expression eerily blank. He says coolly, โThe kidnappings have all but stoppedโโ
You push yourself into a sitting position so suddenly that when a wave of pain hits you at the same time, it nearly blinds you, but you ignore it, hand darting out to grab Chrolloโs wrist. His gaze shifts back toward you, heavy and conflicted. Thereโs so much you want to sayโseven years of rage, eleven of confusion. You feel like you were the only one trapped in time back then; you followed them because they were your friends, because you loved them, loved him, but youโre still stuck in the past. No matter how hard you race to catch up with them, you canโt.ย
And you understood it back then. You did. You understood the anger over Sarasa, the desperation to make sure it never happened to another child from Meteor City. When Sheila begged you not to get wrapped up in this, you refused her because you agreed with them. Sarasaโs killers couldnโt go unpunished, and when Chrollo finally got his hands on them, you were right there in the background watching them get what they deserved. But at some point, things changed, it was no longer about protection or even revenge, and they all kept moving forward, while you were left behind.ย
โThe Second Prince and her followers are not innocents,โ Chrollo tells you, voice cold, like he knows exactly where your thoughts are turning. โTheyโโ
โIโm not talking about the Second Prince,โ you interrupt loudly. โAlthough thatโs a whole other can of worms, Chrollo. How long are these tactics going to prevent retaliation on Meteor City? You know better than anyone that theyโre not sustainable, and eventually, the need for revenge will outweigh fear. Weโre prime examples of it. But thatโs besides the point. You know what Iโm talking about. You knowโโ
โWould you like to leave?โ he asks you quietly.
โWhat?โ you ask him, voice stunted in surprise. When his question processes, you scoff bitterly, โDonโt act like thatโs an option, Chrollo. The spider is branded on me, thereโs no leaving.โ
โI can help you get set up somewhere,โ he continues, trying to keep his voice light and polite, but you can hear the hollowness in it. โYorknew City? Or Swardani, maybe? Anywhere you want, I can make it happen. I know what weโre doing now isnโt what you anticipated agreeing to back then. You can leave, if youโd like.โ
He means it. You can tell because itโs visibly paining him to offer you this. Heโs trying to hide it, but the corners of his lips are tight and heโs purposely looked away from you so you canโt see his eyes.ย
Should you accept it? A new life? Is that really what you want? Youโll never see them again, probably. Pakunoda and Kortopi will come visit you, but the rest? Theyโll take your decision as a betrayal, and you suppose it would be one. And Chrollo would never come, because he knows itโs him specifically you would be trying to leave behind.ย
Do you want to leave him behind? Or do you just want to understand so that you can finally catch up with the rest of them? You donโt even know what youโre angry about anymoreโis it them changing, or is it you not changing along with them? Is it the atrocities theyโve committed that upset you, or is it the fact that youโve been on the outside of your friendship with them for years? That youโve been so lost, when they all seem to understand whatโs going on? Both? Neither? You donโt know anymore, and it scares you. Youโre so confused that you almost want to cry. Youโve never handled change well; you just want things to go back to how they once were.ย
โI want you to answer my question,โ you finally force yourself to say, rejecting the offer. If Chrollo is relieved, heโs careful not to show it, but he does finally look at you again. โTell me why weโre doing all of this. Tell me whyโโ
โฆ why Iโm the only one who seems to care enough to want to know why. You donโt finish that one. You think maybe you might know the answer. Itโs the same reason why Sheila left before things even began. Itโs why she asked you to come with herโshe somehow had seen how things would turn out, long before anyone else did, and she knew you would eventually be left behind in the same way she already felt she was. Their rage and thirst for vengeance has twisted them into something unrecognizable; they no longer see the difference between becoming โvillainsโ to protect Meteor City and burning down the world because they like watching it burn.
Maybe thatโs just your answer then, you realize on your own, gaze lowering. Even Pakunoda said it before: what do you want me to say? Like she didnโt know how to answer your questions, not that she didnโt want to.
They donโt knowโhe doesnโt know.
There is no answer to your question, because he doesnโt understand anything either, and youโre sure that bothers him more than anyone else. No wonder heโs always been so evasive about it.
Chrollo seems to recognize that youโve come to the answer yourself, letting out a heavy breath as he looks out the window to the night sky. His lips curve up into a smile that doesnโt reach his eyes. โWould you like to reconsider my offer, then?โย
โNo,โ you say with a wry smile. โHow could I possibly go live a normal life after everything weโve done, Chrollo?โ
He raises his eyebrows slightly and then tells you, โYouโve hardly taken part in our missions.โ
โWe both know Iโm not innocent. Iโve healed each of you countless times over the years,โ you respond, shaking your head. You think maybe youโre worse than the rest of themโtheyโve all accepted that theyโre monsters, even if they donโt understand how they became that way. Youโve been trapped in the delusion that youโre somehow above them all, moralistic as if youโre not the primary facilitator of their atrocities. โEvery life taken after is on my hands as much as theirs. Thereโs been more blood spilt that can be attributed to me than any one of you individually. Youโve condemned me alongside you, Chrollo. Thereโs no world where I can leave the Troupe and live a normal life. Iโll burn in the same hell that you and all of the others will.โ
โI suppose I have,โ he says softly. And then adds, โWe were never destined for a normal life.โ
โWe didnโt have to be destined for this one.โ
He doesnโt reply, though you didnโt really expect him to. You take the silence to press another burning question onto him. โI donโt care that Iโm part of all of this, Chrollo. All I wanted was an answer. But howโฆ how could you let Kortopi be dragged into it with us? After what you promised me?โ
He sighs like he doesnโt want to have this conversation with you, and it reignites the rage in you. โChrollo.โ
โI thought I was keeping my promise to you,โ he finally says, voice tight, but he still doesnโt look at you. โI thought it would be easier having him closer to us than constantly leaving him behind in Meteor City while we left for missions. I wasโโ
Wrong. He doesnโt finish saying it out loud though, eyes sliding shut as he lets out another heavy sigh. Your jaw tightens as you whisper, โI begged you. I begged you, Chrollo, and you dismissed me like I didnโt matter at all.โ
โI know,โ he replies, voice quiet like heโs ashamed to say it out loud. โI know. Iโm sorry.โ
You let out something caught between a scoff and shaky breath, shaking your head and looking away. You donโt say anything else. After what feels like an eternity, he rises to his feet and tells you, โIโll go find a different room.โ
Before you can think to stop yourself, you grab his hand to stop him from going. His skin is warm against yours, and your fingers slot between his as perfectly as they did years before the two of you became so distant. Chrollo pauses, gaze flickering down to your joined hands, lips parted but not saying anything.
โStay,โ you say quietly before you can talk yourself out of it.
Chrollo doesnโt respond for a moment, like heโs considering what to say. You didnโt anticipate that maybe he would reject you after everything, and you find yourself hesitating, gaze shifting to the side, but when you move to pull your hand back, his grip becomes firmer.
โAre you sure?โ he finally asks you, which he really shouldnโt have, because you arenโt sure.
โNo,โ you say honestly. His expression doesnโt drop, but his lips do tighten, like he was bracing himself for this answer, but no amount of bracing can actually prepare him for rejection from you. โStay anyway, though.โ
He exhales heavily. He hesitates, and you donโt know if itโs for your sake or his. If he doesnโt want to take advantage of your momentary weakness when he knows you otherwise would be rejecting him, or if he wants to protect himself because he knows your emotions are fickle and fleeting, and the resentment you hold for him will eventually rear its ugly head again, leaving him wounded after he had allowed his guard to drop for you.
Youโre unfair to him, you think to yourself. Youโre all heโs ever wantedโhe would wait years and years and years for you, he would subject himself to all of your rage and hatred, if it meant one day he could have you again. You know that. You always have. For a second, itโs not him standing there, but the boy who would track you down into the Uga Forest and scold you for hours for going there on your own with everything going on. Who would pretend he wasnโt almost on the verge of crying when his voice got all pitched as he told you that he was searching for hours and he was scared that the worst had happened. Who would instantly give in when you told him, โI just wanted to see the flowers,โ and made you promise to at least wait for him to come with you next time.
Heโs unfair to you, you argue. He dragged you down this path with him; he condemned you alongside him. Heโs made you an accessory to crimes so horrific that the devil himself would blanche at the sight of them.
You willingly went along with him. You willingly heal them.ย
He knew you would follow him down any path. That you would never leave them when they needed you, regardless of what theyโd done.ย
โOkay,โ he finally says, grip tightening on your hand before he sinks into the bed with you, laying on his side so that he can look at you.
Neither of you say anything for a bit, but for the first time in years, the silence isnโt awkward, both of you are comfortable basking in each otherโs presence after so long apart. He lets go of your hand to slide his hand up your arm to rest on your face, cradling you so gently that your heart skips a beat.
โWhat have you been reading?โ you ask him, glancing behind him to the book he placed on his nightstand, trying to pretend that your heart isnโt actively trying to claw its way out of your chest.ย
โHm?โ he replies, so absorbed in studying your face that he doesnโt immediately process what you asked. When he does, he blinks and says, โOh.โ
He removes his hand from your face to reach behind him to grab the book, and you immediately regret asking the question because you miss the warmth of his touch as soon as itโs gone. He shows you the book, but the title is in a language that you canโt read, so you just raise your eyebrows at him.
โA history book on the Kakin Empire,โ he explains.
You find yourself snorting despite yourself. โWow, you havenโtโโ
โchanged a bit. You almost say it, but you cut yourself off before you can, smile dropping immediately. He seems to understand what you were about to say, because the amusement that had flickered in his eyes instantly dissipates.ย
โItโs interesting,โ he tells you. You think heโs trying to be playful, but the comment comes out more petulant than anything, like heโs offended by your reaction. โI like learning.โ
โI know,โ you say, smiling a little again. โYouโre so lame.โ
โI distinctly remember you being very appreciative over how lame I was when Father Lisores quizzed us on history and you couldnโt answer any question so I had to save us from chores,โ he mutters, putting the book back on his nightstand, but you can hear the smile in his voice, even as he side eyes you.
โYes, my savior with boundless knowledge of the most useless facts known to mankind,โ you reply dryly.ย
Chrollo doesnโt immediately quip back or turn back toward you, so you shift up onto your elbow, tilting your head to the side as you try to see what heโs doing over his shoulder. He frowns at you when he catches you trying to peek and immediately hides whatever is in his hands before turning to face you again.
โI got you something,โ he says softly. โIโฆ found it a while ago, but I didnโt know when to give it to you.โ
Because of how you were avoiding him, you realize, barely withholding a grimace as you glance away for a moment. Your curiosity gets the best of you, because you look back at him and ask, โWhat is it?โ
He hesitates for a second before unfurling his hand, revealing a small, familiar figure sitting inside of it.
When you donโt immediately say anything, he says, โItโsโโ
โThe swan,โ you breathe out, swallowing thickly as you carefully take it from him. Itโs in less than pristine condition, the white paint of the feathers have darkened with time, even though itโs clear that Chrollo had tried his best to clean it up before giving it to you, but itโs undoubtedly the last figure in the bird collection you tried so hard to complete when you were a kid. You let out an airy laugh, smiling as you turn it in your hand. โWhere did you find it? How did you remember after all this time?โ
โAt a market in Yorknew City,โ he says, a soft expression on his face as he watches how you marvel over the figure. โThe collection was apparently really popular two decades ago, the swan was a limited edition, only a couple hundred of them were madeโฆ Or, he couldโve just been saying that to get more money out of me.โ
He didnโt answer your second question, but you still smile as you look up at him, asking doubtfully, โYou paid for it?โ
His smile is teasing as he says, โI thought you would appreciate it more if I did.โ
You donโt know why that makes your chest ache, but it does. Your smile drops, and Chrollo pauses like he doesnโt expect that reaction from you. You let out a shaky breath; there are a thousand things you want to say to him, but you canโt push a single word out.ย
Iโve missed you so much.
Why did you wait all these years for me?
I still love you.
He understands. He always does, especially when it comes to you. The concern in his face softens, and he reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek before he shifts forward, pulling you closer to him. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping tight around him, nails digging into his white shirt. You take in a shuddered breath, inhaling the familiar scent of him that youโve deprived yourself of for too long. Youโre sure that he can feel the tears suddenly stinging your eyes wet against his skin, but he doesnโt make any mention of it. Instead, he lifts his hand to cradle the back of your head, his other arm coming around your waist to hold you close to him.
โYou know, when you told me that your favorite bird was a swan, I made it my mission to find you that figure if it was the last thing I did,โ he says, absently tracing patterns along your back to soothe you. โPaku helped me convince Sarasa and Sheila to convince the others to scour the junkyard for it for your birthday. We spent three days out there looking while Father Lisores had you helping him clean out the basement of the church.
You let out a watery laugh against him. โI always wondered why I was the only one forced to help him with that,โ you accuse. โI was so mad.โ
He lets out a puff of air laced with amusement. โI know. You didnโt talk to me for a week. Still snuck into my room to sleep though.โ
โShut up,โ you complain, resting your head on his shoulder and letting out a heavy sigh, sinking into his arms. For the first time in too long, you feel at home. You admit quietly, โI missed you.โ
He hums, tilting his face down to brush his lips against the top of your head. โI never had a favorite animal, but I researched swans after you told me they were yours. They became mine too.โ
You smile. โTheyโre my favorite because I think theyโre pretty, Chrollo,โ you tell him quietly. โNot because I did any research on them. I could barely even read.โ
โI suppose they are,โ he agrees, โbut I only started to appreciate them after I learned more about them. Did you know that once swans choose a mate, theyโll never find another? When one dies, the other doesnโt seek out another partner. It either keeps moving, half of a creature pretending to be whole, or dies in its grief.โ
His hand stills on your back for a moment before continuing its lazy pattern. โPeople call it loyalty, but I think itโs something else. They donโt stay together out of dutyโthey stay because they canโt do otherwise. Because for them, there is only ever one.โ
His voice has gone low, thoughtful in a way thatโs far too pointed to be a casual discussion of swans. Your throat feels all clogged, and the tears you managed to push away fight their way back into your eyes. โEven if the world tears at them, even if theyโre hurt or angry, even if staying together drags them into dark waters, they donโt let go,โ he continues quietly. โAnd if they lose their other half, theyโll just keep gliding on that same path until it kills them.โ
โIs that supposed to be sweet?โ you murmur into his neck, trying to force some levity into your voice. โIt sounds awfully tragic to me.โ
He hums softly, almost amused. โIโm not sure. I think I admire it because itโs rare. Most creatures replace what they lose. They forget. Swans donโt.โ
You pull back just enough to look at him, and his expression is calm as ever, but his eyes are sharp, searching yours like heโs weighing whether or not you understand what heโs saying. How could you not?
โDo you think itโs a strength,โ you ask quietly, โor a weakness?โ
Chrolloโs mouth curves up into that small, unreadable smile that you know too well. โBoth,โ he says, โbut either way, itโs beautiful. I started to understand them when you chose to become a spider when we were fourteen, even though I could tell you were unsure, but I only really understood it for myself after you decided to distance yourself a few years ago.โ
You donโt know how to reply to that, so instead, you lean forward, lifting your hands to hold his face between your palms before you press your lips against his. His lips are soft against yours, a bit chapped, but they taste the same as they did the last time you kissed himโfamiliar, like home.ย
For the first time in years, you feel whole again.ย
Chrolloโs breath hitches, barely audible, before he responds in kind, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head while the other holds your waist, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you softly at first, almost shylyโhesitant, as if heโs testing whether this is actually happening, whether youโre really here with him, really kissing him, really allowing things to go back to normal between the two of you. His lips brush yours once, twice, and when you donโt pull away, Chrollo exhales like heโs been holding his breath for years.
His fingers slide into your hair carefully, his other hand sliding down to your hip so that he can shift you onto your back. He presses you down against the mattress, hovering over you, and he kisses you again. The second kiss is deeper, more certain. Itโs unhurried at first, but each passing second chips away at the restraint heโs been clinging to for years.
You part for just a moment, gasping for air, and his gaze meets yours, pupils blown wide and unguarded in a way that makes your heart ache. His fingers trace over your face almost reverently as you struggle to catch your breath, and then, like he canโt bear for his lips to leave you for so long, he leans down again, kissing your cheek, the underside of your jaw, down your neckโlong, lingering kisses that make your head all dizzy.
โOh,โ you gasp, lashes fluttering shut. He places a kiss on the hollow of your throat, and then on your collarbone, and then his mouth is on yours again, harder this time, as if heโs finally given himself permission to let go.
Your hands fist his shirt, pulling him closer until thereโs no space left between you, his hips slot between your thighs and his warmth seeps into your bones. The kiss turns hungry, the years of separation bleeding into every movement, every brush of lips and teeth. You feel him smile against your mouth when you let out a small, helpless sound against him.ย
โWe shouldnโt,โ he breathes out, lips brushing yours as he forces the words out. Even as he speaks them, his grip on you tightens. โAny minute nowโโ
You kiss him again, and he lets out a ragged breath into your mouth, unable to stop himself from giving in again. His lips slide messily against yours, tongue sweeping across your lower lip and hands sliding down your body, pulling you impossibly closer. And thenโ
The next noise you let out is closer to pain than pleasure, and Chrollo recognizes it immediately, pulling away to let his eyes rove over you in concern. He wonโt find any physical injuries and he knows that, but he still canโt stop himself from searching. After a few moments, the pain subsidesโyou still have some time before youโre thrown into the worst of it, but not long enough. He realizes this too, sighing softly as he brings his hands back up to your face, cradling it carefully between his palms.
โI never meant to ruin you,โ he whispers, thumb running along your cheekbone and fingers absently carding through your hair as his gaze searches yours. โYou were the one thing I always wanted toโฆโ
He doesnโt finish his sentence; he doesnโt need to. Your lips curl up into a smile that doesnโt quite reach your eyes as you say, โI know.โ
โAfter the debriefโฆโ he starts to say, voice inquisitive, but he doesnโt ask the question. You think maybe he doesnโt want to speak it out loud, because he knows thereโs a chance that things will go back to as they have been the past seven years, even after everything that happened tonight.
โIโm going back to Meteor City,โ you tell him, watching how disappointment flashes across his face before he gives you a too-soft, too-polite smile.
โRight,โ he agrees. โOf course.โ
โWill you come with me?โ you finish quietly. Chrollo inhales sharply as your words process, and you reach out to entwine your fingers with his. โFather Lisores has been asking for you. I donโt know how to explain to him that youโve been avoiding the hamlet for my sake.โ
โOh,โ he breathes out. โYes, Iโll come with you.โ
You give him a soft smile, and he leans down to press his lips against your forehead. You think things will never be the same as how they were, but maybe they will be okay.
SUMMARY: it's been two years since you last had a proper conversation with chrollo; seven since the last time the two of you could be considered friends. you don't care to be close to him anymoreโor at least, that's what you try to convince yourself, but you don't know how much longer your conviction will hold.
(wordcount: 10.6k, fem!reader, phantom troupe member!reader, angst with happy-ish ending, i took advantage of some things that were left blank (particularly kortopi LOL) for The Plot, reader's pov is a bit hypocritical/contrarian at times but that's intentional, hisoka being hisoka, a bit of a steamy make out sesh)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys ......... be gentle with me it's baby's first steps outside of bsd fandom KADFHAUISHFASUDIFHA ok no i actually had so much fun writing this fic HAHAH it gave me a rlly fun opportunity to dive into a new type of reader. i've always been interested in exploring the trope of like one person feeling left behind as everyone else arounds them changes for the worst, and that person struggling to accept what's happening. this fic gave me the perfect opportunity for it, because we have reader who is watching all of her childhood friends change in such awful ways, and even though she KNEW this was the path they were going down, it's different seeing it. we see how she struggles with trying to figure out if it's them and their actions that have her so upset, or if it's just the fact that she hasn't changed along with them. BUT IT WAS FUN, because i don't often write readers who struggle with morality/understanding their own actions, so this was a fun opportunity for me. ALSOOOOOO i thought it was so fun exploring her and chrollo. i think chrollo's dynamics are SO different depending on when he meets his partner and it was fun exploring that. like this is one avenue where they grow up together and have a deep history & shared past/trauma in meteor city, and conversely, if you've been following my blog, im exploring a relationship dynamic with a reader he meets much later in life (succession contest arc) which is much more . difficult LOL. and i decided to have some fun with kortopi bc 1) we know very little about him / his past and 2) .... the DRAMA AND TRAGEDY knowing what happens after the hisoka-chrollo fight HEHEHEH BUT EITHER WAY there was a lot i got to explore in this and i was very happy with it. AND A SPECIAL THANKS TO MY BELOVED RILEY WAHHHHHHHHH SHE READ OVER THIS FOR ME WHEN I WAS MELTING DOWN ABOUT MY CHROLLO CHARACTERIZATION AND THE PLOT I LOVE U SO DEEPLY RILEY
Chrollo is no longer as he once was.
Your gaze lingers on him as he flips through a book a few feet away from you. The others left for their mission, and youโre going to be left alone with him until they get back. You donโt often see him anymore, careful to keep away unless he specifically asks you to show up for a mission, but every time you do, it always ends the sameโwith you upset and lost, unsure of what youโre doing and whatโs become of the people you loved.ย
Youโve known heโs been gone for a very long time, but still, when the two of you are alone, you canโt help yourself from looking for the boy you once knew. The one who would bring fresh flowers to the graves at the church, and translated movies for the other children in Meteor City, performing them himself when they no longer could watch them. You think you get glimpses of him when he doesnโt think anyone is around. When the others have all left for missions, and he thinks heโs alone in base, but heโs always quick to school his expression when he realizes that you stayed back.ย
Youโve known Chrollo Lucilfer for as long as you can remember. One of your first clear memories is of him helping you to your feet after you were tripped by one of the rowdy boys at church. Your knees were bleeding, and you were desperately trying not to cryโyou only had one dress that was suitable for church, and it was ripped and bloody, totally ruined. You would never be able to wear it again, and the matron had explicitly told you to take good care of it or she would never let you have first pick from the clothes recovered at the dumping grounds ever again.
Chrollo had made it all right. He did that a lot back then. He helped people. He went out of his way to make sure everyone around him was okay. He had no idea who you were, but he took you to the back of the church anyway and spent three hours helping you wash out the blood from your dress and hand-sewing the rips to make it all good as new. You didnโt talk much and were nervous being around a boy you had never met, but Chrollo was quick to fill the silence, telling you about how he had learned to stitch up his clothes and wash out dirt and grime because he was constantly at odds with other kids in the junkyard city and had no way of getting any others if these were to be ruined.
Bandages were both a commodity and a necessity in Meteor City; those who got injured were prone to infection and death if open wounds came into contact with the many toxins and bacteria found in the dumping grounds. Still, he gave you the last of his and smiled at you, telling you not to worry about it because he was sure heโd find others, and you needed it more than he did in that moment.ย
It was just who he was. Kind. Giving. Bright. He had given you hope back then. Father Lisores had said it too: he believed that Chrollo could bring a better world to Meteor City because he was so full of light and kindness and spirit. That was why you turned a blind eye to his plans after Sarasaโs death, even when Sheila begged you to come with her and told you that Chrollo and the others were turning into the people that you all hated so much. It was why you followed him when he created the Phantom Troupe, even if you were unsure of its direction and what Chrollo was becoming.
โWhat are you thinking?โ he asks quietly when your staring becomes too obvious.ย
He doesnโt lift his gaze from his book, but you can tell heโs stopped reading because his eyes are no longer flitting from line to line. This isnโt the first time heโs tried to talk to you in the past few years. Usually, youโll pretend you didnโt hear him, and he wonโt press again, taking your silence as the rejection that it was, but this time, you find yourself hesitating.
โDo you remember how we first met?โ you question, tracing patterns with your shoe against the dusty floors of the abandoned building the Troupe has claimed as a base for its most recent mission. You notice the way his eyes widen slightly when he realizes youโve decided to answer him this time, but heโs quick to hide it.
โOf course,โ he murmurs. He flips to the next page of his book even though you know very well he hasnโt read the last. You almost roll your eyes, but refrain. โOne of the most defining moments of my life.โ
You let out a sharp puff of air thatโs too scornful to be considered a laugh, turning your head away. โDonโt be so dramatic.โ
โIโm not,โ he replies so seriously that it makes your throat swell. You canโt bear to lift your gaze to look at him, so you keep it trained on the ground instead. โOur first meeting changed a lot for me.โ
โI think about it a lot,โ you whisper, more to yourself than to him. โWhen we were kids. Everything was soโฆ. different.โ
You want to say easier, but the word doesnโt feel right on your tongue. There was nothing easy about growing up in Meteor City, even compared to what your life has become. Death was too imminent a threat when you were far too young, and you became well acquainted with loss and mourning before the first smile ever reached your lips.ย
It was not easier, but it was different.
โYou were so scared back then,โ he muses, and your gaze flickers up to see the faint smile teasing at the corner of his lips. โYou latched onto me after we met. Hid behind me when the other kids would badger you for the trinkets you collected. Made me shoo them all away for you.โ
You find yourself snorting despite yourself, and you lift your hand to your lips to hide your smile. โI did not latch onto you. And I was not scared.โ
You did and were. You remember it vividly. You hated confrontation with the other kids, and Chrollo was quick to try to protect the people around him, even at the cost of himself, so you hung around him in hopes of him intervening when they came to try to get you to give up the things you collected from the junkyard. Youโre sure that he knew what you were doing, but he still stepped in on your behalf every time. Even if it usually ended with him being pummeled by someone bigger and stronger than himโat least until Sheila and Sarasa started stepping in.
โYou definitely did,โ he disagrees. โIn fact, you clung to the back of my shirt so much that you ripped holes in it.โ
โLiar,โ you accuse, but youโre smiling.
โNot at all,โ he says, and his eyes are glittering in a way thatโs achingly familiar as he finally looks up at you. His expression is soft, and his lips are curved up, but he looks so sad that it makes your chest hurt. โDo you remember how you would sneak into my room at the orphanage?โ
โThe matrons would get so mad at me,โ you agree.ย
You never liked sleeping aloneโnot back then, and not now. Youโre distant with Chrollo now, but Pakunoda often shares a room with you because she knows about your frequent night terrors and anxiety being alone, and when she canโt, Machi or Kortopi will. They all know how you feel about being alone, so theyโre careful to make sure that youโre not. Although they donโt like anyone pointing that out because they hate being seen as soft, even by their friends, so theyโll often mask their decision with a complaint about how the others are being annoying, so theyโre going to relax with you instead.
โI had to smooth-talk you out of trouble every time,โ he adds. โOtherwise, you wouldโve been stuck scrubbing the floors for weeks.โ
โI felt safe with you,โ you say quietly after a moment of silence. Chrollo pauses at your words, lips pressing together as he looks back down at his book. โYou were so bright, Chrollo. Everyone gravitated toward you.โ
He doesnโt respond for a while. You donโt really expect him to. A strange expression crosses his face as he stares at the pages he isnโt reading, and you let out a soft breath as you look to the side, out the open window to the night sky. The others are all out completing their assigned missionโa grand heist against one of the elder Kakin princes that will certainly end in mass death and tragedy. You try not to think about it. Your role isnโt involved with carrying out Chrolloโs schemes; you only stick around for the aftermath to make sure everyone is okay, and then you go back to Meteor City with Kortopi until Chrollo calls you back to him for another mission.ย
Sometimes itโs hard to push out of mind that the more you save your friends, the more you condemn others.
How much blood is on your hands? How many lives couldโve been saved if you prioritized the greater good instead of the people you canโt stop chasing? Every time you pull one of your friends from the edge, you drag countless others to it.ย
โYou donโt anymore?โ he asks, an odd tone to his voice as he pointedly keeps his gaze averted from you.
โHm?โ you hum with a frown, glancing back over to him.ย
โYou donโt feel safe with me anymore?โ he elaborates, gaze shifting back up to you. You canโt hold his gaze for long; you havenโt been able to in years, and you hate how his expression drops when he realizes that. His lips part like he wants to say something, but then he presses them together again like heโs decided against it.
โI donโt feel unsafe with you,โ you answer, and when heโs visibly displeased by your response, you sigh and admit, โI hardly know who you are anymore, Chrollo.โ
Chrollo doesnโt answer, but he does frown and turn his head to the side. His lips curve down into a frown, and that unreadable look in his eyes returns. For a second, you can almost imagine that the two of you are back in Meteor City, back when you were young, after Sarasaโs death. He disappeared in the days between finding her body and the funeral, but you found him after hours of searching on the far side of the city, sitting by himself as he stared off into the distance. He had that same look in his eyes then as he does now; you wonder what heโs thinking about.
Youโre about to say something else to break the silence when the door to the makeshift base crashes open and draws your attention away. Uvogin bursts into the room, expression twisted and breathing heavily. You rise to your feet, gaze trained on him as you wait for him to speak. Uvogin looks between you and Chrollo briefly before he focuses on you.
โWe need you on the field. Kortopi got injured; Machi is using her threads to keep him stable, but they keep unwinding because of whatever ability is affecting him. She canโt keep it up for much longer.โ
You glance back at Chrollo, whose brows furrow at Uvoginโs words, but he frowns and says, โGo.โ
---------
Kortopi is the youngest member of the Phantom Troupe. Heโs not a founding member, only because he was six at the time of its founding, but heโs hung around you all for as long as you can remember. When he was three, his older sister would take him to the shows that the Troupe put on for the children of Meteor City, and when she was killed by infection after being wounded by a stray dog less than a year later, it was you who took him under your wing. You were only twelve yourself, but you promised his sister that you would protect him, and you were adamant on keeping that promise no matter the cost.
For years, he watched the Phantom Troupe from the sidelines, and you realized that you had your job cut out for you. He idolized Chrollo; you canโt really blame him for that, everyone idolized Chrollo, but he spent all of his time desperately trying to master nen so that he could convince Chrollo to let him become a spider. You were against it from the beginning. That was back when you and Chrollo were still close, so you had no issue arguing with him when he told Kortopi that once he mastered a nen ability, he would have a spot with them. He dismissed you every time you tried to bring it up, and he told you that you were being too stubborn and this was the best course of action, and it led to the two of you being on frigid, but not quite hostile terms.ย
Kortopi was fifteen when Chrollo finally deemed his mastery enough to join, and you were livid over it. Chrollo dismissed you yet again when you raised your concerns, and he reminded you that you, he, Pakunoda, and Machi were all younger when you joined the Troupe. But it was different, you insisted, Kortopiโs sister had been someone you cared deeply about, and she begged you to protect Kortopi for her when she was on her deathbed. Not only that, but Chrollo promised to help you. Youโve raised him since he was four years oldโyou didnโt want this life for him, you donโt even want it for yourself.ย
It was your first major argument with him, and it was the first rift that led to the ruin of your friendship. The day Chrollo let Kortopi into the Phantom Troupe was the day you realized heโd changed beyond recognition, and it was the day you stopped clinging to your past with him.
โHeโll be okay?โ Uvogin asks gruffly, kneeling behind you.ย
The rest of the members assigned to this mission are sitting around you, waiting to hear that everything is fine. Or, most of them wereโUvogin, Machi, Nobunaga, and Pakunoda were with you. The other most recent addition to the Troupe is nowhere to be found, naturally. Unease claws at your chest. Chrolloโs decision to let Hisoka Morow into the Phantom Troupe was another that you were very displeased with, but because the two of you have hardly talked in the past two years, you didnโt say anything.
Not that it would matter. Chrollo doesnโt care to take your opinion into account. He made that very much clear when he dismissed you and allowed Kortopi into the Troupe.
โYeah,โ you say quietly, smoothing out the boyโs messy hair. Heโs still so youngโonly seventeenโbut he looks even younger with his breath so shallow and his eyes slid shut. Resentment towards Chrollo bubbles in your chest again, but you push it away as you shut your eyes and shake your head. Now isnโt the time for that. โCould you carry him back to base, Uvo?โ
โYup,โ the man agrees, shifting closer to you to scoop the small boy up into his arms. His brows furrow in concern as he looks down at you. โYou alright getting back?โ
โIโll walk with her,โ Pakunoda offers, and Uvogin nods before taking off with Nobunaga. Machi hesitates, casting you a long look before she follows after the two of them. โAre you okay?โ
โI told him this would happen,โ you say tightly. You donโt need to say who the โhimโ isโPakunoda knows better than anyone. Sheโs been caught between the two of you since the day the tension began seven years ago. โI told him, Paku. If I had been a second later, Machiโs nen wouldโve been exhausted and Kortopi wouldโve bled out.โ
โI know,โ Pakunoda replies quietly as you two make your way down the street back in the direction of base. โThis shouldnโt have happened.โ
โHow did it happen?โ you ask sharply, gaze cutting to the side to look at her. For a second, you feel so angry that it makes you sick because it shouldnโt have happened. Pakunoda instantly gives you a concerned look, making you realize that your rage is seeping into your aura. Instantly, you push it away and clear your throat. โIt was a simple mission. You and Kortopi go in for the information and the artifacts while the others pose as other attendees to keep an eye on the two of you in case things go wrong. Except it wasnโt supposed to go wrong. How did it go wrong?โ
Pakunoda pauses and then says honestly, โIโm not sure. It was very sudden; everything was fine one moment, and then all hell broke loose. The only reason I wasnโt hit alongside Kortopi was that I reacted faster.โ
Your expression twists immediately. โThe clown?โ you ask, voice low.
โNo,โ Pakunoda disagrees, shaking her head. When you give her a suspicious look, she continues, โHisoka seemed just as caught off guard as the rest of us. I think it was the nen ability of the Second Prince or one of her subordinates. They didnโt seem to recognize us, but when it came closer to the time of the heist, it was like they were able to sense when our intentions became more hostile.โ
โI donโt like it,โ is all you say in response. โWe need to make sure all of the cameras around that building are wiped. The last thing we need is one of the Kakin Princes coming down on Meteor City in retaliation for our actions here.โ
โThatโs if they figure out weโre from there,โ Pakunoda replies, but thereโs an uncomfortable expression on her face like she knew the risk was there, but didnโt expect it to actually become a possibility.
โOnce they figure out there are no official records of our existence, itโll be quite easy for them to realize where we must come from,โ you say dryly, shaking your head. โI donโt know what heโs thinking, Paku. He must realize that operations like this put the city more at risk than anything else. Thereโs only so long fear tactics will work in preventing intervention. Eventually, theyโre going to decide the risks outweigh the benefits of making a statement against us by targeting the city.โ
โThen the city will strike back,โ Pakunoda replies. โYou know the law of retribution. Theyโre not defenseless. Theyโve handled things this way long before we started doing what weโre doing.โ
You rub your face in frustration. โThe elders retaliate. They deter people from wronging the city by making sure it doesnโt go without consequence. We arenโt retaliating, Paku. Weโre instigating. And weโre instigating powerful people, not some knock-off mafia. Weโre talking about the Kakin Military and the princesโ personal armies. The elders can retaliate against mafias stealing our kids and other cities for wrongful persecution, but what the hell do you expect them to do when another nationโs military comes down on them?โ
Pakunoda says your name with a sigh. This isnโt the first time youโve tried to have this conversation with one of them, and it always goes the same every time. Theyโve changed in the same way Chrollo has, and you donโt know why you havenโt yet, but Pakunoda at least will hear you out. So sheโs unfortunately stuck listening to you vent out your frustrations.
โIโm serious,โ you continue, stopping in your tracks and folding your arms over your chest. โHow far have we deviated from our original goals, Paku? What weโre doingโitโs mindless killing, mindless thieving. This isnโt preventing what happened to Sarasa from ever happening again; weโve become worse than the people we united against, and weโre not even protecting Meteor City anymore. Do you really think that people are so scared of us that they wonโt ever step foot in the city? Because thatโs not how the world works, Paku. I know you know that, and I donโt know why weโre all pretending otherwise. Even if theyโre scared of us, and they canโt track us down and kill us, they will go to the defenseless and send us a message through them eventually. What weโre doing is not only delaying the inevitable, but each mission of ours is making the inevitable retaliation exponentially worse.โ
Pakunoda doesnโt like it when Sarasa is brought up. Her breath gets all shaky, and her voice gets wobbly, so you immediately regret it when you see how the woman cringes and looks away. You immediately avert your gaze to the ground, guilty.ย
โWhat do you want me to say?โ she asks you quietly.
โI donโt know.โ Your voice breaks over the words, and you squeeze your eyes shut to fight the tears. Pakunoda squeezes your forearm gently. โI donโt like what weโve become, Paku. And I know that Chrollo said this was the direction we would be taking from the beginning, butโI justโitโs just different knowing versus it actually happening. No matter what he couldโve said back then, I never wouldโve expected this is where we would be eleven years later.โ
The two of you continue down in the direction of your temporary base in silence. You had a bad feeling the moment Chrollo messaged you to tell you there was another mission you were needed for, and even though you know Kortopi is going to be okay, you canโt help but fear for the day he wonโt be. That all of them wonโt be. Because thatโs what has become inevitable nowโthe only thing left guaranteed is death. For the residents of Meteor City, it has always been a risk that has weighed more heavily than most, but because of who you guys are and what you all have done, itโs going to come sooner rather than later. Itโs only a matter of time before you canโt save themโฆ or yourself.ย
โItโs not easy on him either, you know?โ Pakunoda says softly, and you exhale sharply, looking away. โDonโt be like that. You, of all people, should understand.โ
You donโt understand.
Thatโs what you want to say, at least.
But every time you close your eyes, all you can see is the haunted expression on his face as he looked into the sack that contained Sarasaโs body. The burden he decided to carry on his own when he read whatever was on that note and refused to share it with anyone else, because whatever it said was too horrific for him to bear letting anyone else know. The lack of light in his eyes when he declared to the rest of you what he would do after three yearsโ time had passed.ย
You donโt want to understand.
You canโt let yourself believe that the boy he used to be still exists somewhere deep inside of him. Not because you donโt desperately wish to have that boy back, but because the memory of him is too tainted, stained in the blood heโs spilt since casting aside his old self. That sweet boy couldnโt possibly still be here with you. You canโt imagine that the boy who taught you how to read and spent hours scouring the junkyard for the last swan you needed for your collection of bird figures is the very same man who shamelessly broke his promise to you when he allowed Kortopi to join the Troupe, even as you begged him not to. That the same hands that patched up your knees when you fell and stroked your hair when you struggled to fall asleep had butchered women and children for the sake of rare eyes.
ย It canโt beโhe canโt be.ย
โHe misses you a lot,โ Pakunoda continues. You want to scream at her to shut up, but your throat is too clogged. You hate this. You hate this. โWhenever he calls meetings that arenโt mandatory, he always waits for you, even though he knows youโre not going to come. He hides it well, but heโs disappointed every time.โ
โStop, Paku,โ you finally force out. โThatโs enough.โ
She adds, โYou should talk to him. Kortopi feels guilty, too, you know? He feels like itโs his fault you guys donโt talk anymore.โ
โStop, Paku,โ you repeat.
Pakunoda sighs, but she doesnโt push anymore.ย
Sheโs wrong, you tell yourself. Youโll stay long enough for the debrief in the morning, and then youโre gone again. Back to Meteor City to help the people whom you swore to help all of those years ago. Chrollo will be far from mind.
---------
The base is eerily quiet when you get back. You didnโt go in with Pakunoda right away; you decided to sit on the bench outside the building until nightfall. You didnโt want to risk running into Chrollo, and you figured that by now, he would have headed to the room he claimed.ย
Uvogin and Nobunaga were passed out drunk in the front lobby when you came in, and Machi was napping at Kortopiโs bedside, checking up on him when the exhaustion of using her nen so much finally caught up to her. Pakunoda was reading a book in the lobby area, keeping an eye on who comes and goes. She gave you a long look when you first entered the building, but you pointedly ignored it.
Now, youโre going up to claim a room of your own. Chrollo, at least, had enough sense to pick a building that used to be a hotel, so there were countless rooms, even if most of them were rather dilapidated. You think maybe youโll go to the top floor; the walk up the stairs will give you some time to think andโ
โOh, hey,โ an unfortunately familiar voice says from behind you. โWe havenโt had the chance to talk yet.โ
You stiffen immediately, glancing over your shoulder to where the red-headed jester called Hisoka is leaning against the wall, flicking one of his cards around. His lips are curled up into an unreadable smile as he eyes you, and it makes your skin crawl. You donโt know what was going through Chrolloโs head when he decided to let the man into the Troupe; everything about him rubs you the wrong way. You know youโre not the only one, tooโFeitan and Franklin donโt like him either, and though Pakunoda wonโt say it out loud, you know sheโs wary of the Troupeโs newest member.
โYeah,โ you agree, voice cool. โThat was intentional, clown.โ
Hisokaโs eyes widen at your words, a giggle escaping his lips. โOh my, the kitten has claws,โ he coos, taking a step closer to you. โFrom the way everyone spoke about you, I figured you were as docile as a lamb.โ
He reaches out to tug at a stray strand of your hair, and you instinctively move to shift away, but freeze when a cold, heavy energy slithers across the back of your neck and rests over your shoulders. โNow, now, I only want to talk.โ
Is thisโฆ his Ren?
You canโt move. Your legs are tense like you want to run, but your feet are rooted to the ground. Your throat is so tight that you canโt even push a noise from your lips, much less a call for one of the others. Youโve felt plenty of people's Ren before, but never like this. Most peopleโs aura bursts outward in an unshaped rush of strength, heavy and hot, a show of force thatโs easy enough to brace against. Hisokaโs slides over your skin, cold and insidious, curling around your body like smoke as it chokes you; his bloodlust made tangible, heโs letting you know, with perfect control, just how easily he could kill you if he wanted.ย
โHow cute,โ he teases, and then his Ren disappears like it was never there at all.
You instantly dart away from him, breath ragged and gaze accusing as you lift your hand to your rapidly beating heart. With some space between the two of you, you hiss, โYouโโ
โRelax,โ he drawls, tilting his head to the side as he smiles at you lazily. โI was only teasing. Iโve been excited to meet you, you see. Iโve heard a lot about you.โ
Thatโsโฆ ominous, you think, too rattled to have any other coherent thought. You doubt that the others have told Hisoka much about you, so heโs probably been lurking around eavesdropping, which means you have no idea what he mightโve heard or gathered from them.ย
You donโt reply to him, but heโs studying you carefully like heโs trying to figure something out. You want to leave, but your body just isnโt cooperating with you, still thrown off by his oppressive Ren. After what feels like an eternity, he lets out an airy sigh, eyes sliding shut as he tilts his head back.
โNever mind,โ he sings, waving his hand flippantly and turning to leave. โIt would be tooโฆ boring to do it this way. Iโll just go about it the hard way.โ
โWhat the hell are you talking about?โ you demand, unnerved, but Hisoka doesnโt respond, disappearing around the corner. You breathe out to yourself, โWhat the fuck just happened?โ
You lean back against the wall, trying to get some control over your heart, but no matter how hard you try, your fingers wonโt stop trembling. What was that? What did he mean by โgo about it the hard wayโ? What just happened?
Youโre not sure, but you have a feeling itโs bad news.
-----
You find yourself standing outside the room that Chrollo claimed for himself. You donโt even really remember how you got here; once you finally got yourself moving after that encounter with Hisoka, your feet brought you here on their own.ย
After all these years, itโs still Chrollo you seek out in your times of distress.
You sigh, head hanging forward just a bit before you push open the door to his room. Your breath catches when you see him lounging back in his bed, reading a book. Heโs wearing a loose, long-sleeved white shirt, the laces in the front are mostly undone, and his hair is hanging around his face, free from the slickback he usually styles it in. He looks so at ease that it makes your heart ache.
โWhat is it?โ he asks coolly before he even looks up, probably expecting Pakunoda or Machi. โIโโ
His gaze flickers up, and his expression immediately shifts. His lips part, and his eyes widen ever so slightly. He shuts his book quickly and pushes himself up into a sitting position, gaze roving over you like he doesnโt even fully believe that youโre there.
โOh,โ he says, voice soft like heโs worried that if heโs too loud or sudden, it might scare you away. Something in his face changes when you donโt respond right away, his brows knit together, and his lips flatten. He senses something is wrong instantlyโhe still knows you better than anyone after so much time apart. He rises to his feet and makes his way over to you, voice more serious as he asks, โWhat happened? Are you okay?โ
He lifts his hand as if to cup the side of your face, but he hesitates just before he touches you, like he isnโt sure if he should. You let your eyes slide shut as you close the distance, leaning into his palm and letting out a shaky breath.ย
Immediately, he lifts his other hand to hold your face gently between his palms, brushing his fingers across your cheekbones as his eyes trace over you, trying to figure out what you arenโt saying. His touch is so familiar, so warm, itโs hard to remember all of the things you were convincing yourself of earlier when the hands that cradle you feel the same as the ones that once patched up your injuries and stroked your hair to help you fall asleep.
He touches you with bloodstained hands, you remind yourself. Women, childrenโhow many people have suffered under the same hands that hold you so carefully?
โTell me what happened,โ he says, voice firm, gray eyes sharp as he waits for you to answer him.
When you donโt again, he sighs and steps closer, his hand sliding from the side of your face to the back of your head as he pulls you into him. You take in a sharp, wet breath when he holds you in his arms, ear pressed to his chest. His heart beats steadily, thrumming in your ear, the same rhythm you were so intimately acquainted with years ago.
โI donโt know what happened,โ you finally answer as you sink into his arms, drowning in the familiar beat of his heart. โI donโtโฆโ
โDid something happen on the way back?โ he asks you, and you let out a shaky breath as he traces patterns on your back. โWhile you were sitting outside?โ
Of course, he knew you were out there, you think. You wonder if he picked one of the rooms looking over the front of the building specifically so he could keep an eye on you while you were sitting out by the old, dry fountain. You open your eyes and focus on the window seat on the far side of the room, where the cushions are shifted around as if someone had recently been sitting there.
โNo,โ you say after a moment. โIt was in here. Hisokaโheโฆโ
You trail off, unsure how to describe what took place between the two of you, but just having the name is clearly enough for Chrollo, who stiffens. Something dark crosses his expression, and in an instant, youโre reminded of the fact that he has changed, but he doesnโt give you much time to linger on the thought when he asks, voice low, โDid he hurt you?โ
โNo,โ you say again, shaking your head. โIt was justโโ
You grimace, hand flying to your abdomen as ghost pains shoot through your body. Chrollo immediately steadies you, brows furrowing as he looks down at where youโre holding, as if searching for a wound that you donโt have.
โItโs just the after effects,โ you tell him before he can get the wrong idea. โFrom healing Kortopi.โ
Chrollo frowns, but he leads you over to the bed so that you can lay down. You think that you should leave; you didnโt even intend on coming here, you were planning on just finding a bed to ride out the worst of the pain and then disappearing after the debrief in the morning. You donโt want to reconcile with Chrollo; youโre fine with how things are. Youโre fine with the distance between the two of you. Youโre fine being alone. Heโs not who he once was, and you want nothing to do with who he has become.
Still, you put up no resistance when he lays you down on the mattress and fluffs the pillow behind your head so that you can rest comfortably. You donโt pull your hand back when he sits on the bed next to you and entwines his fingers with yours over your stomach. You canโt bring yourself to look away when his gaze meets yours. His eyes are too dark, too unreadable; thereโs not even a hint of the light that once used to fill them.
โWhat happened with Hisoka?โ he finally presses, breaking the silence that had drawn on for too long between you two. He lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face, but this time you do turn your face away, if only slightly. Chrollo pauses, hand freezing midair, and then he lets it drop back down to his lap.
โNothing,โ you say quietly. โIt was just weird. Everything is with him, though.โ
Chrollo doesnโt look convinced, but you turn your face to the side, looking away from him to the peeling wallpaper on the far side of the room. You donโt know what youโre doing here; you donโt know why you stepped into his room. You shouldโve just went on your way and found yourself a room like you were planning to; you donโt like being around the others when youโre facing the consequences of using your nen ability, even if it does mean spending the night alone. They worry about you too much; whenever theyโre reminded of the fact that you take on the pain meant for them, they become averse to letting you heal them.
โIs there another room on this floor?โ you ask him, hating how hoarse your voice sounds.
โYou donโt have to do that,โ he frowns. โYou can stay here.โ
You look at him from the corner of your eye, watching as his lips press together tightly and his throat bobs. For a second, he almost looks hurt, but then his face smooths out again as he forces his lips up into a small smile.
โRight,โ he agrees softly, pulling his other hand back from where it had been holding yours. There shouldnโt be a pit in your stomach over it. This is what you wantโdistance. You and Chrollo Lucilfer are better off strangers than anything else. Youโre not friends anymore, and youโre certainly notโฆ โI can find a different room. Stay here and rest.โ
You sigh. โChrollo.โ
โItโll be a few hours before it passes, right?โ he presses. Heโs concerned, you can see it in his eyes. For a second, theyโre familiar againโthe same ones that would hover over you when you got yourself hurt searching for trinkets in the junkyard. โYou shouldnโt move around too much. I can find a different room.โ
โStop,โ you say, shaking your head. โI can move to another room, Chrollo. Itโs fine, itโs hardly begun yet; itโll just be periodic waves for the next hour until it really hitsโyou know that. I justโโ
โStay.โ You can tell heโs aiming for it to come out as an order, but it lands more desperate than he would like. He immediately averts his gaze and then repeats more quietly, โJust stay.โ
You pause and then tell him, โOn one conditionโI want you to answer something for me.โ
Chrollo exhales, eyes unsure and shoulders tense for a second too long before he finally nods, signaling for you to ask your question.
โWhy?โ you breathe out, and before he can press, you continue, โWhat are we doing, Chrollo? Donโt give me that whole becoming villains for the rest of the world to fear spiel, because you and I both know youโre full of shit. Weโre not protecting Meteor City by doing all of this, so why? Tell me why.โ
Chrollo looks away, expression eerily blank. He says coolly, โThe kidnappings have all but stoppedโโ
You push yourself into a sitting position so suddenly that when a wave of pain hits you at the same time, it nearly blinds you, but you ignore it, hand darting out to grab Chrolloโs wrist. His gaze shifts back toward you, heavy and conflicted. Thereโs so much you want to sayโseven years of rage, eleven of confusion. You feel like you were the only one trapped in time back then; you followed them because they were your friends, because you loved them, loved him, but youโre still stuck in the past. No matter how hard you race to catch up with them, you canโt.ย
And you understood it back then. You did. You understood the anger over Sarasa, the desperation to make sure it never happened to another child from Meteor City. When Sheila begged you not to get wrapped up in this, you refused her because you agreed with them. Sarasaโs killers couldnโt go unpunished, and when Chrollo finally got his hands on them, you were right there in the background watching them get what they deserved. But at some point, things changed, it was no longer about protection or even revenge, and they all kept moving forward, while you were left behind.ย
โThe Second Prince and her followers are not innocents,โ Chrollo tells you, voice cold, like he knows exactly where your thoughts are turning. โTheyโโ
โIโm not talking about the Second Prince,โ you interrupt loudly. โAlthough thatโs a whole other can of worms, Chrollo. How long are these tactics going to prevent retaliation on Meteor City? You know better than anyone that theyโre not sustainable, and eventually, the need for revenge will outweigh fear. Weโre prime examples of it. But thatโs besides the point. You know what Iโm talking about. You knowโโ
โWould you like to leave?โ he asks you quietly.
โWhat?โ you ask him, voice stunted in surprise. When his question processes, you scoff bitterly, โDonโt act like thatโs an option, Chrollo. The spider is branded on me, thereโs no leaving.โ
โI can help you get set up somewhere,โ he continues, trying to keep his voice light and polite, but you can hear the hollowness in it. โYorknew City? Or Swardani, maybe? Anywhere you want, I can make it happen. I know what weโre doing now isnโt what you anticipated agreeing to back then. You can leave, if youโd like.โ
He means it. You can tell because itโs visibly paining him to offer you this. Heโs trying to hide it, but the corners of his lips are tight and heโs purposely looked away from you so you canโt see his eyes.ย
Should you accept it? A new life? Is that really what you want? Youโll never see them again, probably. Pakunoda and Kortopi will come visit you, but the rest? Theyโll take your decision as a betrayal, and you suppose it would be one. And Chrollo would never come, because he knows itโs him specifically you would be trying to leave behind.ย
Do you want to leave him behind? Or do you just want to understand so that you can finally catch up with the rest of them? You donโt even know what youโre angry about anymoreโis it them changing, or is it you not changing along with them? Is it the atrocities theyโve committed that upset you, or is it the fact that youโve been on the outside of your friendship with them for years? That youโve been so lost, when they all seem to understand whatโs going on? Both? Neither? You donโt know anymore, and it scares you. Youโre so confused that you almost want to cry. Youโve never handled change well; you just want things to go back to how they once were.ย
โI want you to answer my question,โ you finally force yourself to say, rejecting the offer. If Chrollo is relieved, heโs careful not to show it, but he does finally look at you again. โTell me why weโre doing all of this. Tell me whyโโ
โฆ why Iโm the only one who seems to care enough to want to know why. You donโt finish that one. You think maybe you might know the answer. Itโs the same reason why Sheila left before things even began. Itโs why she asked you to come with herโshe somehow had seen how things would turn out, long before anyone else did, and she knew you would eventually be left behind in the same way she already felt she was. Their rage and thirst for vengeance has twisted them into something unrecognizable; they no longer see the difference between becoming โvillainsโ to protect Meteor City and burning down the world because they like watching it burn.
Maybe thatโs just your answer then, you realize on your own, gaze lowering. Even Pakunoda said it before: what do you want me to say? Like she didnโt know how to answer your questions, not that she didnโt want to.
They donโt knowโhe doesnโt know.
There is no answer to your question, because he doesnโt understand anything either, and youโre sure that bothers him more than anyone else. No wonder heโs always been so evasive about it.
Chrollo seems to recognize that youโve come to the answer yourself, letting out a heavy breath as he looks out the window to the night sky. His lips curve up into a smile that doesnโt reach his eyes. โWould you like to reconsider my offer, then?โย
โNo,โ you say with a wry smile. โHow could I possibly go live a normal life after everything weโve done, Chrollo?โ
He raises his eyebrows slightly and then tells you, โYouโve hardly taken part in our missions.โ
โWe both know Iโm not innocent. Iโve healed each of you countless times over the years,โ you respond, shaking your head. You think maybe youโre worse than the rest of themโtheyโve all accepted that theyโre monsters, even if they donโt understand how they became that way. Youโve been trapped in the delusion that youโre somehow above them all, moralistic as if youโre not the primary facilitator of their atrocities. โEvery life taken after is on my hands as much as theirs. Thereโs been more blood spilt that can be attributed to me than any one of you individually. Youโve condemned me alongside you, Chrollo. Thereโs no world where I can leave the Troupe and live a normal life. Iโll burn in the same hell that you and all of the others will.โ
โI suppose I have,โ he says softly. And then adds, โWe were never destined for a normal life.โ
โWe didnโt have to be destined for this one.โ
He doesnโt reply, though you didnโt really expect him to. You take the silence to press another burning question onto him. โI donโt care that Iโm part of all of this, Chrollo. All I wanted was an answer. But howโฆ how could you let Kortopi be dragged into it with us? After what you promised me?โ
He sighs like he doesnโt want to have this conversation with you, and it reignites the rage in you. โChrollo.โ
โI thought I was keeping my promise to you,โ he finally says, voice tight, but he still doesnโt look at you. โI thought it would be easier having him closer to us than constantly leaving him behind in Meteor City while we left for missions. I wasโโ
Wrong. He doesnโt finish saying it out loud though, eyes sliding shut as he lets out another heavy sigh. Your jaw tightens as you whisper, โI begged you. I begged you, Chrollo, and you dismissed me like I didnโt matter at all.โ
โI know,โ he replies, voice quiet like heโs ashamed to say it out loud. โI know. Iโm sorry.โ
You let out something caught between a scoff and shaky breath, shaking your head and looking away. You donโt say anything else. After what feels like an eternity, he rises to his feet and tells you, โIโll go find a different room.โ
Before you can think to stop yourself, you grab his hand to stop him from going. His skin is warm against yours, and your fingers slot between his as perfectly as they did years before the two of you became so distant. Chrollo pauses, gaze flickering down to your joined hands, lips parted but not saying anything.
โStay,โ you say quietly before you can talk yourself out of it.
Chrollo doesnโt respond for a moment, like heโs considering what to say. You didnโt anticipate that maybe he would reject you after everything, and you find yourself hesitating, gaze shifting to the side, but when you move to pull your hand back, his grip becomes firmer.
โAre you sure?โ he finally asks you, which he really shouldnโt have, because you arenโt sure.
โNo,โ you say honestly. His expression doesnโt drop, but his lips do tighten, like he was bracing himself for this answer, but no amount of bracing can actually prepare him for rejection from you. โStay anyway, though.โ
He exhales heavily. He hesitates, and you donโt know if itโs for your sake or his. If he doesnโt want to take advantage of your momentary weakness when he knows you otherwise would be rejecting him, or if he wants to protect himself because he knows your emotions are fickle and fleeting, and the resentment you hold for him will eventually rear its ugly head again, leaving him wounded after he had allowed his guard to drop for you.
Youโre unfair to him, you think to yourself. Youโre all heโs ever wantedโhe would wait years and years and years for you, he would subject himself to all of your rage and hatred, if it meant one day he could have you again. You know that. You always have. For a second, itโs not him standing there, but the boy who would track you down into the Uga Forest and scold you for hours for going there on your own with everything going on. Who would pretend he wasnโt almost on the verge of crying when his voice got all pitched as he told you that he was searching for hours and he was scared that the worst had happened. Who would instantly give in when you told him, โI just wanted to see the flowers,โ and made you promise to at least wait for him to come with you next time.
Heโs unfair to you, you argue. He dragged you down this path with him; he condemned you alongside him. Heโs made you an accessory to crimes so horrific that the devil himself would blanche at the sight of them.
You willingly went along with him. You willingly heal them.ย
He knew you would follow him down any path. That you would never leave them when they needed you, regardless of what theyโd done.ย
โOkay,โ he finally says, grip tightening on your hand before he sinks into the bed with you, laying on his side so that he can look at you.
Neither of you say anything for a bit, but for the first time in years, the silence isnโt awkward, both of you are comfortable basking in each otherโs presence after so long apart. He lets go of your hand to slide his hand up your arm to rest on your face, cradling you so gently that your heart skips a beat.
โWhat have you been reading?โ you ask him, glancing behind him to the book he placed on his nightstand, trying to pretend that your heart isnโt actively trying to claw its way out of your chest.ย
โHm?โ he replies, so absorbed in studying your face that he doesnโt immediately process what you asked. When he does, he blinks and says, โOh.โ
He removes his hand from your face to reach behind him to grab the book, and you immediately regret asking the question because you miss the warmth of his touch as soon as itโs gone. He shows you the book, but the title is in a language that you canโt read, so you just raise your eyebrows at him.
โA history book on the Kakin Empire,โ he explains.
You find yourself snorting despite yourself. โWow, you havenโtโโ
โchanged a bit. You almost say it, but you cut yourself off before you can, smile dropping immediately. He seems to understand what you were about to say, because the amusement that had flickered in his eyes instantly dissipates.ย
โItโs interesting,โ he tells you. You think heโs trying to be playful, but the comment comes out more petulant than anything, like heโs offended by your reaction. โI like learning.โ
โI know,โ you say, smiling a little again. โYouโre so lame.โ
โI distinctly remember you being very appreciative over how lame I was when Father Lisores quizzed us on history and you couldnโt answer any question so I had to save us from chores,โ he mutters, putting the book back on his nightstand, but you can hear the smile in his voice, even as he side eyes you.
โYes, my savior with boundless knowledge of the most useless facts known to mankind,โ you reply dryly.ย
Chrollo doesnโt immediately quip back or turn back toward you, so you shift up onto your elbow, tilting your head to the side as you try to see what heโs doing over his shoulder. He frowns at you when he catches you trying to peek and immediately hides whatever is in his hands before turning to face you again.
โI got you something,โ he says softly. โIโฆ found it a while ago, but I didnโt know when to give it to you.โ
Because of how you were avoiding him, you realize, barely withholding a grimace as you glance away for a moment. Your curiosity gets the best of you, because you look back at him and ask, โWhat is it?โ
He hesitates for a second before unfurling his hand, revealing a small, familiar figure sitting inside of it.
When you donโt immediately say anything, he says, โItโsโโ
โThe swan,โ you breathe out, swallowing thickly as you carefully take it from him. Itโs in less than pristine condition, the white paint of the feathers have darkened with time, even though itโs clear that Chrollo had tried his best to clean it up before giving it to you, but itโs undoubtedly the last figure in the bird collection you tried so hard to complete when you were a kid. You let out an airy laugh, smiling as you turn it in your hand. โWhere did you find it? How did you remember after all this time?โ
โAt a market in Yorknew City,โ he says, a soft expression on his face as he watches how you marvel over the figure. โThe collection was apparently really popular two decades ago, the swan was a limited edition, only a couple hundred of them were madeโฆ Or, he couldโve just been saying that to get more money out of me.โ
He didnโt answer your second question, but you still smile as you look up at him, asking doubtfully, โYou paid for it?โ
His smile is teasing as he says, โI thought you would appreciate it more if I did.โ
You donโt know why that makes your chest ache, but it does. Your smile drops, and Chrollo pauses like he doesnโt expect that reaction from you. You let out a shaky breath; there are a thousand things you want to say to him, but you canโt push a single word out.ย
Iโve missed you so much.
Why did you wait all these years for me?
I still love you.
He understands. He always does, especially when it comes to you. The concern in his face softens, and he reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek before he shifts forward, pulling you closer to him. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping tight around him, nails digging into his white shirt. You take in a shuddered breath, inhaling the familiar scent of him that youโve deprived yourself of for too long. Youโre sure that he can feel the tears suddenly stinging your eyes wet against his skin, but he doesnโt make any mention of it. Instead, he lifts his hand to cradle the back of your head, his other arm coming around your waist to hold you close to him.
โYou know, when you told me that your favorite bird was a swan, I made it my mission to find you that figure if it was the last thing I did,โ he says, absently tracing patterns along your back to soothe you. โPaku helped me convince Sarasa and Sheila to convince the others to scour the junkyard for it for your birthday. We spent three days out there looking while Father Lisores had you helping him clean out the basement of the church.
You let out a watery laugh against him. โI always wondered why I was the only one forced to help him with that,โ you accuse. โI was so mad.โ
He lets out a puff of air laced with amusement. โI know. You didnโt talk to me for a week. Still snuck into my room to sleep though.โ
โShut up,โ you complain, resting your head on his shoulder and letting out a heavy sigh, sinking into his arms. For the first time in too long, you feel at home. You admit quietly, โI missed you.โ
He hums, tilting his face down to brush his lips against the top of your head. โI never had a favorite animal, but I researched swans after you told me they were yours. They became mine too.โ
You smile. โTheyโre my favorite because I think theyโre pretty, Chrollo,โ you tell him quietly. โNot because I did any research on them. I could barely even read.โ
โI suppose they are,โ he agrees, โbut I only started to appreciate them after I learned more about them. Did you know that once swans choose a mate, theyโll never find another? When one dies, the other doesnโt seek out another partner. It either keeps moving, half of a creature pretending to be whole, or dies in its grief.โ
His hand stills on your back for a moment before continuing its lazy pattern. โPeople call it loyalty, but I think itโs something else. They donโt stay together out of dutyโthey stay because they canโt do otherwise. Because for them, there is only ever one.โ
His voice has gone low, thoughtful in a way thatโs far too pointed to be a casual discussion of swans. Your throat feels all clogged, and the tears you managed to push away fight their way back into your eyes. โEven if the world tears at them, even if theyโre hurt or angry, even if staying together drags them into dark waters, they donโt let go,โ he continues quietly. โAnd if they lose their other half, theyโll just keep gliding on that same path until it kills them.โ
โIs that supposed to be sweet?โ you murmur into his neck, trying to force some levity into your voice. โIt sounds awfully tragic to me.โ
He hums softly, almost amused. โIโm not sure. I think I admire it because itโs rare. Most creatures replace what they lose. They forget. Swans donโt.โ
You pull back just enough to look at him, and his expression is calm as ever, but his eyes are sharp, searching yours like heโs weighing whether or not you understand what heโs saying. How could you not?
โDo you think itโs a strength,โ you ask quietly, โor a weakness?โ
Chrolloโs mouth curves up into that small, unreadable smile that you know too well. โBoth,โ he says, โbut either way, itโs beautiful. I started to understand them when you chose to become a spider when we were fourteen, even though I could tell you were unsure, but I only really understood it for myself after you decided to distance yourself a few years ago.โ
You donโt know how to reply to that, so instead, you lean forward, lifting your hands to hold his face between your palms before you press your lips against his. His lips are soft against yours, a bit chapped, but they taste the same as they did the last time you kissed himโfamiliar, like home.ย
For the first time in years, you feel whole again.ย
Chrolloโs breath hitches, barely audible, before he responds in kind, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head while the other holds your waist, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you softly at first, almost shylyโhesitant, as if heโs testing whether this is actually happening, whether youโre really here with him, really kissing him, really allowing things to go back to normal between the two of you. His lips brush yours once, twice, and when you donโt pull away, Chrollo exhales like heโs been holding his breath for years.
His fingers slide into your hair carefully, his other hand sliding down to your hip so that he can shift you onto your back. He presses you down against the mattress, hovering over you, and he kisses you again. The second kiss is deeper, more certain. Itโs unhurried at first, but each passing second chips away at the restraint heโs been clinging to for years.
You part for just a moment, gasping for air, and his gaze meets yours, pupils blown wide and unguarded in a way that makes your heart ache. His fingers trace over your face almost reverently as you struggle to catch your breath, and then, like he canโt bear for his lips to leave you for so long, he leans down again, kissing your cheek, the underside of your jaw, down your neckโlong, lingering kisses that make your head all dizzy.
โOh,โ you gasp, lashes fluttering shut. He places a kiss on the hollow of your throat, and then on your collarbone, and then his mouth is on yours again, harder this time, as if heโs finally given himself permission to let go.
Your hands fist his shirt, pulling him closer until thereโs no space left between you, his hips slot between your thighs and his warmth seeps into your bones. The kiss turns hungry, the years of separation bleeding into every movement, every brush of lips and teeth. You feel him smile against your mouth when you let out a small, helpless sound against him.ย
โWe shouldnโt,โ he breathes out, lips brushing yours as he forces the words out. Even as he speaks them, his grip on you tightens. โAny minute nowโโ
You kiss him again, and he lets out a ragged breath into your mouth, unable to stop himself from giving in again. His lips slide messily against yours, tongue sweeping across your lower lip and hands sliding down your body, pulling you impossibly closer. And thenโ
The next noise you let out is closer to pain than pleasure, and Chrollo recognizes it immediately, pulling away to let his eyes rove over you in concern. He wonโt find any physical injuries and he knows that, but he still canโt stop himself from searching. After a few moments, the pain subsidesโyou still have some time before youโre thrown into the worst of it, but not long enough. He realizes this too, sighing softly as he brings his hands back up to your face, cradling it carefully between his palms.
โI never meant to ruin you,โ he whispers, thumb running along your cheekbone and fingers absently carding through your hair as his gaze searches yours. โYou were the one thing I always wanted toโฆโ
He doesnโt finish his sentence; he doesnโt need to. Your lips curl up into a smile that doesnโt quite reach your eyes as you say, โI know.โ
โAfter the debriefโฆโ he starts to say, voice inquisitive, but he doesnโt ask the question. You think maybe he doesnโt want to speak it out loud, because he knows thereโs a chance that things will go back to as they have been the past seven years, even after everything that happened tonight.
โIโm going back to Meteor City,โ you tell him, watching how disappointment flashes across his face before he gives you a too-soft, too-polite smile.
โRight,โ he agrees. โOf course.โ
โWill you come with me?โ you finish quietly. Chrollo inhales sharply as your words process, and you reach out to entwine your fingers with his. โFather Lisores has been asking for you. I donโt know how to explain to him that youโve been avoiding the hamlet for my sake.โ
โOh,โ he breathes out. โYes, Iโll come with you.โ
You give him a soft smile, and he leans down to press his lips against your forehead. You think things will never be the same as how they were, but maybe they will be okay.
warning: akazaโs pov, blood mentioned, self-loathing, implied violence || i hope this made sense :|
the first time she touched me, i almost recoiled. not because her hand was coldโit wasnโtโbut because it was warm. warm in a way that burned like a fire pressing against skin thatโs forgotten how to feel.
she didnโt flinch when i stared at her, the way most humans did. she just smiled, that infuriating, soft little smile that said she wasnโt afraid. that she wasnโt going to run.
โyouโre not a monster,โ she said once, when i caught her staring at my hands. my bloodstained hands. the hands that had taken lives without hesitation.
i chuckled then. โyou donโt know what youโre saying.โ
โi do.โ and her voice didnโt tremble. โi know what you are. i just donโt think thatโs all you are.โ
the words stuck to me like a wind thatโs humming in my ear, clinging even when i wanted to rip them off.
she stayed, despite the long nights i disappeared into, or the silences i gave her. she didnโt demand to know where iโd been or what iโd done. she just waited with the kind of patience that unsettled me more than any blade could.
sometimes iโd find her sitting on the edge of the balcony, her legs dangling into the night, gazing at the stars. sheโd pat the spot next to her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a demon to sit beside her in the quiet.
yet i did. every single time.
it wasnโt comfort but, it was a kind of softness i didnโt know how to bear.
when she laughed, she would tilt her head back just ever so slightly, like she wanted the world to hear it. when she frowned, she pressed her lips together in a way that made her look adorable. she wasnโt perfect, but her imperfections made her everything that i was not.
i told myself i didnโt careโthat i wouldnโt let her in. but she slipped through the cracks anyway. the way she noticed the smallest things, how i avoided crowds, how silence sat easier on my tongue than words.
and i hated it because it made me want things i had no right to.
so when her hand brushed mine that night, when her eyes lingered just a moment too long, i shouldโve pulled away but i didnโt.
she leaned inโor maybe it was meโbut it happened slow, careful, like we were both offering the other every chance to pull away. our lips brushed it was gentle at first, before i cupped the back of her head and deepened the kiss and for a heartbeat, i almost believed it could be enough. that maybe i could be enough.
but the truth hit sharp. it wasnโt. because kissing her felt wrongโwrong in a way where i saw someone else. another woman, blurred and faceless, but heavy with a warmth i couldnโt place. i didnโt know if it was a part of my human memory i shouldnโt still carry, or if i was simply losing my mind. but the result was the same: a sudden wave of disgust. not with herโbut with myself.
she didnโt deserve this. not the hesitation, not the way i faltered as if she were a stranger. she looked at me with eyes that glimmered even when they shouldnโt, knowing full well what i was. a murderer, a demon, a monster who shouldโve been left behind in history and still, she stayed and thatโs what made it worse.
because she was patient, kind, and never pressed when i went quiet. she gave me room, as if i could ever be worthy of that kind of affection. but behind my eyes lingered someone elseโa shadow i couldnโt name, a warmth slipping through my grasp like smoke. it drove a knife through me, sharper than any blade.
so i pushed her away. not because i didnโt want her, but because i did. because the more i wanted her, the more that ghost inside me clawed to the surface.
she deserved someone who was human. not someoneโsomething ratherโwho murders, who drags his sins everywhere he goes. instead, she was stuck with me, in love with half of her and half haunted by a love i couldnโt even remember.
her silence cut deeper than any wound. when she finally turned, her eyes werenโt angry, they were soft because of hurt. the kind of hurt that doesnโt yell or fight back.
a single tear slipped down her cheek. she didnโt wipe it away. she just turned and left.
i didnโt stop her. i just let her go, even though every part of me screamed to reach out. so i sat there, hating that i could be loved by someone so understanding, and yet still only manage to break her.
yea i can feel the rage rn but he is just.a.white.haired.character. like i dont know what yall r cooking cz he is so mid. wack ass teacher bruh. the big ass board of him and geto is the funniest thing ever though (i love him)
-๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐ช๐ง๐๐ฃ๐
i love aventurine but some of yall act weird fr like the sparkle is racist typa ones r so weird. he's just a twink guys.
the artstyle isnt doing it for me istg they look dead and they also look like the annoying kids who ride those loud ass motorcycles in the middle of the night.
-๐ ๐ช๐ง๐ค๐ค
BROO what do you like about him /gen. i never understood the hype with anime guys that have like porcupine durian hybrid hair. bakugo, kuroo, kirishima, and all their mini children.
-๐ข๐๐๐ช๐๐ก ๐ค๐๐๐ง๐
me vs dilfs. he's like the embodiment of what gen alpha thinks they can get by mewing and looksmaxxing 25/7/375
-๐ง๐ค๐ข๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ช๐๐๐ฎ ๐ก๐๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ (#25 bare grape): 11/10
this shade in itself just gives you that wonyoung lip bruh istfggggggg its cool toned tho for my warm toned girlies!!
-๐ก๐๐ก๐ฎ๐๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ ๐๐ก๐๐จ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ก๐๐ฎ๐๐ง ๐๐๐ญ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ (#12 muscat shower): 7/10
a bit cheaper than the romand one, its really good and actually keeps your lips super moisturized for a longgg time. the only problem is that the pigment is not that noticeable TT (this shade is cool toned btw like a soft mauve)
super cheap and the price says for itself. the gloss goes away after like 15 minutes and it feels absolutely terrible on the lips. good for beginners tho
ya mb i have a ton of lilybyred i love yena im sorry. anyways this tint is super good stays forever. and ever. i could eat a 17284 course meal and it'd still be on. i bought a mini one tho since this shade is only for my more uh artistic looks
love love love this lip balm. its like an easy way to escape strict school rules if they dont allow makeup. it keeps your lips moisturized and has such a pretty pigment to it! live laugh love vaseline
the absolute best tint ever istg romand outdid themselves with this one. its super pigmented and literally lasts forever, like i finished a three course meal and i still have the pigment on my lips. the packaging is ok but it makes up for it with the absolute amazing formula inside of it
ok so the pigment is definitely there + the color is super cute butttttt the formula is kinda drying so points off because it definitely doesnt keep ur lips moisturized at all but it hides like those lip cracks so extra points hehe (a bit pricey tho)
-๐๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐ก๐๐จ๐จ ๐ฅ๐๐๐๐ ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐จ ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐๐๐๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ (#1 paradise found and #4 never settle): 6/10
first of all the packaging is super cute and its pretty cheap compared to most lip tints so props to barenbliss for that BUT. the tint goes away pretty fast and doesn't stay as long so i definitely wouldn't recommend it to people who take makeup seriously but for beginners and daily use, this should be your go to lip tint + the smell is incredible
-๐๐๐๐๐ช๐ฉ๐ ๐ก๐๐ฅ ๐๐๐๐ช๐ฉ๐ฎ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐๐ฉ๐ข๐๐ฃ๐ฉ (#2 night milk): 6/10
i think this is a Chinese brand idk but anyways this is a pretty good gloss imo but it doesn't stay on for long but it's pretty affordable and the packaging is sooooo cute
-๐ฎ.๐ค.๐ช ๐จ๐๐ข๐ฅ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ๐ฎ ๐ข๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ ๐ก๐๐ฅ (#4 high five): 5/10
ok so price really tells for this one uhh its super affordable but like the formula is drying and if you have like cracked lips it will show so this really is just a beginner product imo
my opinion on this one is the same as the other bnb product but it has one less point because i do not like the scent at all but its super travel friendly (it can literally become a keychain)
this is actually pretty good, hides the lip cracks pretty well but its not transferproof (idk if its supposed to be) its super cute but more pricey than like other local brands like y.o.u and emina
i dont care what you guys say. this guy is not as "innocent baby uwu tuna mayo" as you think. i stand by the fact that he 200% has 12 year old boy humor.
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ฃ:
laughs at skibidi toilet and gyat jokes (me 2)
plays mobile legends and valorant. i will stand by this till i die
uses his cursed speech for some of the stupidest things like asking someone to twerk
mf put a bowl over his head and cut his hair using it as a guideline and thought it looked hot (it does)
he is the most annoying person online i can tell
type of person to send you 200+ links of the smurfcat
he uses eyeliner to make his mouth marks cooler and more evident. argue with a wall.
bro probably watches andrew tate and dedi corbuzier podcasts
ok but he probably listens to newjeans
looks like a nwjns fan to me or red velvet idk
def will annoy you and the moment you snitch on him he'll go act cute to get out of trouble
bro sticks out his tongue too just to make you more pissed
goes to the gym just to flex his muscles on everyone there
has a sleeper build dont argue with me
curses every 10 seconds
takes 209340194 minutes in front of the mirror drawing lower lashes on his eyes like those douyin girlies
you can tell she has amazing manipulation skills just by looking at the whole student council thing. she uses their desire to brainwash them into joining the cult, properly using the killing game set up to brainwash them into thinking some dude is watching over them.
2. ๐๐ฃ๐๐ก๐ช๐๐ฃ๐๐
her influence with the students are admirable honestly. she's using the dire situation they're in to expand her influence and bring people under her wing, oh sorry ATUA's wing.
3. ๐๐๐จ๐๐ง๐
what she wants contradicts what Shuici wants. while Shuichi wishes to abandon the school, Angie thinks that its better for everyone to stay together in the school. peacefully.
4. ๐๐๐๐ ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐๐๐๐ง
angie doesn't need to think when it comes to Atua or friends. when Ryoma had died, she didn't even try to help Himiko when Himiko was accused by everybody, she even agreed that Himiko was so most definitely the killer.
5. ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ง
biased opinion, we need a girl antagonist or protagonist for danganronpa (dont count udg) . like kaede protag and angie antag sounds so cool. im not a super feminist its just they- have better personalities than the protagonist and antagonists that we have been given for 3 games in a row (again not counting udg)
listen. they may be from 2 whole different universes but tell me they wont be the most wholesome couple ever.
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ฃ๐จ:
rantaro loves when sayaka goes on tours so he can travel with her
i imagine their relationship is like those malewife girlboss typa things
like imagine sayaka coming home from a long day of practice to a clean house and rantaro, using ultra big brother instinct, massages her aifeowifhwao ghauiegeg
they probably go to festivals together omg
sayaka loves trinkets and rantaros random piercings
she probably chooses which piercing to use each day omg
rantaro loves loves loves styling sayakas hair, be it a braid, pigtails all he need is to style her hair
they wear matching outfits. end of discussion
its cute cause like idols go on tours a lot and rantaro loves adventuring different countries
rantaro being sayaka no1 fan
i imagine sayaka to love rantaros earings, piercings, necklaces, bracelets so much
she has matching necklaces with him probably
to be honest i ship this because i thought they were holding hands in that danganronpa s scene like omgomgomgogogmogmogmg
