Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.
Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
The walk to Sylus’ room is reminiscent of one to the gallows. You’ve seen those walks in people’s souls, how each step makes their throat tighten more and how they seem to mentally wait for each heartbeat to come. Like every step or every breath or ever beat is going to be their last.
That’s the only way you can think of to describe how you feel right now. A place that once meant safety and comfort to you has been tainted. It’s been warped, smeared, and destroyed in a way that a you from a few weeks ago would’ve never imagined.
Because now, you’re walking there with fear. Fear of Sylus of all people. Your partner in crime. Your confidant. Your closest friend. Your Morana.
You don’t want to think of him this way. Far from it. But Miss Hunter’s words, her shaky tone and fidgety hands, make you this way. The chaos of emotions in her threads make you this way. Everything about how she was when describing her time with Sylus make you this way.
Modification of her Evol.
You know very well what those words mean. You know what it looks like, feels like. You know all of this because it’s woven into her soul.
And her own soulmate tried to do that to her. Tried to split her open. Try to warp her and smear her and destroy what makes her her.
Rage and betrayal and whole other slew of emotions boil up inside of you. Each step makes you wonder when you’ll explode, when you’ll break from all of this.
You try to combat this with each breath. Each deep, hard-fought, breath. You try to embrace a wave of calm, to tamper down the craziness and be who you normally are: in control.
Nothing helps. Nothing works. And before you know it, you’re knocking at that accursed bedroom door.
Since when am I so polite with him?
A weak laugh escapes your lips. You stifle it down the moment the door begins to open.
Sylus is disheveled, an odd sight for someone who can look put together even in the middle of a gun fight. He just stares at you. His eyes refuse to leave yours, as if you’ll vanish if he so much as blinks.
It’s awkward, strained. An uncomfortable atmosphere that hasn’t been between you two in years. You can’t stand it.
“May I come in? I believe we have some things to discuss.”
Sylus says nothing. He looks deeply uncomfortable. It’s subtle, something most wouldn’t notice. But you’ve known him far too long. The slight flicker in his eyes down to the way he walks tells you everything. He’s off. He’s lost.
Not that you’re much different. Your tone earlier was cold, professional, and distant. Entirely lacking the usual playfulness or joy you’d have from simply interacting with Sylus.
You quickly step in his room once he moves aside for you. You don’t spare Sylus a glance. Any further looks would just deter you from your task.
Sylus’ treatment of Miss Hunter weighs on you. If you thought it was bad before, it’s far, far, worse now. Experiments? Changing her Evol? Scaring her so much she subconsciously rejects her own soulmate?
It’s arguable the worst start to any love story you’ve ever heard or seen. And you have more experience with that than anyone. You see them in every thread. You hear them in every soul.
You stare at Sylus’ empty bed to distract yourself from that rabbit hole of emotions, one you’re familiar with. You walk towards the bed. But you don’t sit on it. Rather, you just trace mindless patterns into the sheets to calm yourself.
Eventually, you turn to face the man whose room you stand in. Sylus stands with his back on the door. The lock is turned shut. And his arms are crossed, as if he’s shielding himself from you.
Since when were you two like this: weary and afraid of one another? After the argument today? After the one a few days ago? When Miss Hunter arrived? Or was it always there, brewing silently beneath your soft touches and charming smiles?
Whatever the case, you’ve never quite felt such distance from Sylus. You stand in the same room you two have shared for god knows how long, looking right at each other. And yet, you couldn’t be farther apart.
You tap your fingers on the bed like you did the night before Miss Hunter arrived. Tap. Tap. Tap. It’s the only sound that fills your ears until Sylus finally speaks.
To anyone else, his tone would be calm, demanding, and dripping with that usual hint of arrogance that he has. To you, he practically begs. Screams, even.
He only does that rarely. Like earlier today during your argument after your collapse. Which, given that specific context, made sense. Sylus was out of rhythm. His emotions were chaotic. He does care for you, after all. And you had just screamed your lungs out and passed out in front of him.
Who wouldn’t be shaken by that even a little?
You think over your next words for a moment, pushing that memory of your mind. What is there to explain? You’ve heard everything from Miss Hunter. You know what he tried to do.
Old wounds open up the more you think about it. The pinpricks of needles. Your home becoming a revolving door of doctors when you had no sign of a soulmate by age 10. The increasing prevailing sense of something being wrong with you the longer it went on.
They’re phantom pains, echoes of a past that only emerges when you sleep. They’re ghosts you tell no one about. They’re wounds that only you have ever dressed.
What was done to you was done in good faith. Much like what Sylus did. You could see it in his soul, see it in his thread. And it told you he wanted her to remember. He wanted his sorceress back at any cost.
But you wanted here his words. His interpretations and thoughts from his own mouth.
“Go ahead,” you gesture with your hand.
So Sylus does explain. Just not what you thought he would.
He goes into detail about his deal with Miss Hunter. About the brooch. About her search. About the twins and their pranks. About everything.
You look at him with scrutinizing eyes. You don’t search his soul; you have no need to.
In him, you find the truth and only the truth. You find no deception, no hidden meanings, nothing. It’s probably the most honest he’s been with you since Miss Hunter’s arrival.
“I never even had the brooch on me,” he chuckles a bit before he continues. “I don’t know why she ever thought I did.”
“In your favorite book. On page 70. You know the scene.”
You absolutely do know the scene. It makes you smile even in this moment.
“Seriously? How on Earth do you expect her to know anything about my taste in literature?”
“You two spend so much time together I figured you were “besties” by now,” he says the words a great amount of sarcasm that makes you relax a bit.
It’s not much. But, you lean into the familiarity.
“Besides. Even if she didn’t know the significance of the book, I thought I’d do her a favor and introduce her to something good to read. She claims to be bored during her time here, and I wanted to be a more gracious host.”
You snort at his comment. Sylus tilts his head at you.
You want to say, ”A gracious host? After kidnapping her and threatening her and almost turning her into a lab rat for the second time in her current life?” But you shake your head and say nothing.
Sylus seems to brush it off. His eyes soften and he takes a step towards you. When you don’t move away, he comes even closer, standing beside the foot of the bed while you stand in the same position next to the head.
“That’s all there is to what you saw. It wasn’t,” he pauses for a moment, searching for the words. “It wasn’t anything like you thought it was. Just a series of… interesting events.”
You just nod once more, turning your head to the bed again. You go back to tracing patterns in it, trying to rally yourself for the real conversation.
You give him a quiet hum, but you don’t look up at him. You trace words into the bed, words from the scene of the book he placed the brooch in. They comfort you.
“What’s got you so quiet? Normally you talk my ear off, even when I’m being a fool.”
You make a hasty drag against the sheets, and the irritating sound that follows shocks both of you.
“Because I’m not here about what you just talked about and you know it.”
Or, at least, he should know it. He should know that him taking Miss Hunter to Philip is why you’re here. He should know why you’re so angry about him doing that. He should know.
He should know because he knows you were the one to find the twins. Two boys in agony, one covered in crystals. Children suffering because of selfish adults. Just like Sylus did. Just like Miss Hunter did. Just like you did.
The logical part of you knows that his goals for what he did weren’t anything like the ones that got the twins in that state. But, the other part of you, the one that made you come here, won’t listen.
That part of you remembers all those doctors. It remembers the padded rooms and the repeated cycles of accusations. It remembers the fear. It remembers the pain. And it remembers when you finally decided to run from all that.
That part of you is loud. It’s loud, it’s obnoxious, and it wants to cry. It wants to shed vicious tears and wretched sobs. But it doesn’t. It can’t. Because it wasn’t listened to in the past.
Why would this time be any different?
Because Sylus isn’t them, you remind yourself.
He’d listen to you. He has to listen to you. Sylus is a flawed man, not a monster. He’s a desperate and flawed man who just wants the love of all his lives back. He’s a desperate and flawed man who made a mistake.
And he has to know that, right?
“Than why are you here right now, my sweet Gamayun? Surely not to repeat the earlier interesting series of events? Or maybe go even further?”
“You’re deflecting,” you say immediately.
His usual jokes don’t make you flustered. Instead, they make you angrier as he avoids what you need yet again.
“That’s not an answer, sweetie.”
Something in you snaps. Maybe it’s the use of an old nickname. Maybe it’s due to another deflection. Maybe it’s both.
Either the case, you finally address the dreadful elephant in the room, “Why did you bring her to Philip?”
You ask because you want him to admit it himself. Hearing him say the words, the man you’ve loved for over a year, rather than Miss Hunter, the soulmate of said man, will makes things clearer.
Maybe it’ll undo the knot in your stomach and the dread that courses through your veins. Maybe his explanation will make the phantom needles go away, and drown out the screams of your precious boys.
Part of you knows that neither will happen. The other, more optimistic and the one that clings to your love, begs for something otherwise.
All that hopes drains away when you see the color leave Sylus’ face. His color seeps away at the same pace as your fleeting hope.
Oh God, what did you do, Sylus?
Miss Hunter didn’t give you any details. You can only speculate. But with this severe of reaction, especially coming from Sylus (who’s done a lot of questionable shit that he knows you’d never judge him for), you’re not sure you can handle the answer.
Miss Hunter avoiding your questions and looking apprehensive to tell you anything is one thing. Sylus doing it is a whole other can of worms. You steel your heart for whatever happens next.
“We weren’t resonating. I thought there was a problem with her. There isn’t, so we left.”
It’s about the same thing she told you. Enough to give you the gist. Enough to explain her fear and her discomfort. But not enough to explain Sylus’. Not nearly enough, given everything he’s seen and been through in both of his lives.
So you push, “Did you two rehearse your excuses, or did you both conveniently give me the same nonsense in hopes I wouldn’t press? Whatever the case, you ought to practice lying to me better.”
Sylus appears unaffected by your words. You, of course, know better. The slight knit of his brows, the way he holds himself and leans a tad more to one side. He’s so obvious to you that it’s painful.
“You really going to lie to me again, Sylus? After what happened last time?”
That full on makes him flinch. Your heart wavers as a result. That was a low blow. You both know that. And yet, you can’t back down. Because all you can see in your mind’s eye is the twins.
Luke trying to claw at his face, to etch in the same scars his brother carries. Kieran forcing himself to grow up even more as a result of that instability. The way they would both duck from mirrors, or even flat out shatter them, during those first few days.
Dozens and dozens of memories like that just sit in your mind. A weight unlike any weight you’ve ever carried. It festers there. It seeps into your veins, into your heart, and into your words.
“What exactly are accusing us of, sweetie? Be specific. You how I hate to beat around the bush, and waste time.”
You do. And that’s exactly why you’re the negotiator of this business and not him.
Soon, she will take that place. Soon, I’ll need a new role in a new place.
“Is there anything in particular I should be accusing you of?” You counter.
“Not in my mind,” he glances you over from head to toe. “But that seems to be the case in your mind.”
A smirk crosses his lips. It’s not one of humor.
He words hit you to the core.
“That’s not an answer,” you shakily manage to get out.
“Well, if my answers aren’t satisfactory, maybe you can give me a direct question? As you say, it’s harder to avoid something if there’s no room to do so.”
That stupid smirk is still there. His eyes are still cold, colder than you’ve ever seen them directed at you.
“Did you or did you not hurt her?” You tone gets firmer the more you speak.
Sylus’ expression changes again. Not to one of humor or playfulness or anger like you expected. No, the Sylus before you was none of those right now.
“Who exactly do you think I am?”
“I don’t know!” You finally raise your voice despite all efforts not to. “I don’t know… why do you think I’m here? I need answers, Sylus. I need conformation that I’m missing something and that you didn’t do what I think you did.”
You pause for a moment, choking on your own words and emotions, “I need the truth from you. Please. I need the truth about this at the very least.”
Sylus says nothing for a moment. And you worry that this’ll be a rehash of your first fight. The fight that broke you. The fight that drove you away.
“My relationship to her isn’t your problem.”
Suddenly, you feel sick. But then, Sylus finally says something and you chase that nausea away, kicking it down with your professionalism.
“I want her gone,” he says with an odd amount of levity. “She isn’t worth the trouble she’s causing, so I pushed my plans forward ahead of schedule.”
You don’t entirely know what to say to that.
“Pardon?” You laugh a deranged laugh. “You brought her here. Why ever would you want her gone now after no progress on what ever it is that you need from her?”
“Like I said: she isn’t worth the effort. And I refuse to waste my time on useless things.”
“Useless? You have the gall, the absolute audacity, to call her useless?”
You aren’t yelling, despite how much you want to be. And that want gets stronger the amused Sylus appears.
“Why do you care so much about her, sweetie? She’s my guest, not yours.”
”Because she’s your soulmate. Because she’s the key to your happiness,” is what you want to say.
Instead, what comes out is, “Because I’ve become quite attached to her. And I find your attitude towards her appalling.”
“Of course you would, sweetie,” his voice gets quieter and softer. “Of course you would.”
Sylus gets close to you, putting his fingers beneath your chin and tilting your head upwards. You don’t resist; in fact, you embrace the small touch as much as possible.
“Because you have such a bleeding heart.”
You roll your eyes at him. Normally, Sylus says that to tease you. Like on negotiations where you spare the business partner in question. Or when you talk him down from simply killing his opponent and into seeing their usefulness. Or any of the numerous times you’ve brought in a stray animal and nursed it back to health.
He always says it in a teasing tone, almost mocking. But now, he says it with fondness.
Or love, your delusional and desperate brain says.
As soon as that thought cross your mind, you take a step back. Sylus immediately releases his hold on your chin, disappointment flashing across his face. Or, at least, that’s what you think you see.
“My heart aside,” you say to calm yourself and get your heart to stop racing. “That doesn’t change the fact that your behavior towards her has been reprehensible. Deplorable, even.”
“Why are so obsessed with her, Gamayun? Should I be jealous? She’s been tearing us apart just by being here. Don’t tell me she’s gone even further…”
He says it with jest and usual nonchalant attitude. But something in you tells you there’s more to it.
“Because of my bleeding heart, as you say,” you smile a bit before going back to a more serious expression. “And the fact that you two seem to hold so many secrets that I’m not privy too despite your less than stellar relationship.”
Suddenly, something in Sylus changes. You can’t quite put your finger on it, other than the fact that you strangely feel like prey. Like he’s hunting you or something like that. You’re on your guard. You’re waiting for him to strike.
Sylus lets out a bitter laugh. “You’re not being truthful with me either, sweetie.”
“Isn’t it?” He takes a step closer to you, the smirk on his lips thinning and his expression shifting to a more softer one.
You don’t know exactly what’s in that smirk. Anger? Bitterness? Hurt?
Hatred? Annoyance? Grief? your thoughts whisper before you can shut them down.
“Sure, sweetie,” he’s surprisingly genuine and not sarcastic with his tone. “Sure it isn’t.”
“What in the world are you going on about this time?”
Fear drips into your words. You hope it isn’t noticeable. But judging by Sylus’ face, you didn’t succeed.
Being so utterly emotional for the past few days has done this to you. Made cracks in your armor that show more and more with every passing second.
Sylus reaches for you again. And you, again, accept the touch. He cradles you head, hands delicately cupping your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks in a way he knows soothes you.
Foolish man and his foolish tenderness when you’re supposed to be angry at him.
“Your obsession with her. I’ve never seen you act this way.”
You’ve never seen me try to mend the bond between someone I love and their soulmate before. But, hey, there’s a first time for everything?
“I am not obsessed. I do not do obsessed.”
Sylus frowns. You’re the one doing the deflecting now. You’re the one using humor as a distraction now.
“Than what you call all this?” He keeps stroking your cheeks with a featherlight touch.
“Care? Empathy? Because, as you know, I have a bleeding heart.”
It’s getting harder to keep your tone light. You hope that your voice never wavers. You pray that Sylus doesn’t notice how your skin warms from embarrassment or how fast your heart rate is.
You can’t even look him the eyes. And you struggle with all your might not to squirm.
“Your bleeding heart has never gone this far. Nor made you this mad at me,” the chuckle he lets out at the end of his sentence is bitter, but his eyes are still as sweet as ever.
Every statement Sylus makes feels like he’s ripping you open more and more. Like the claws of the fiend he was has made their way around the individual bones of your ribcage and is slowly but surely prying them open. It’s like he wants to expose your heart to the world.
Your brain is beginning to fog. Your mouth is beginning to dry. And the urge to run from here is getting heavier and heavier. Your feet are glued to the ground, and at the same time, they feel like they want to take flight.
When was the last time I felt this way? When I was still back home? At the jewelry store? Or maybe my old bar job?
“Well, most people I deal with are people of the N109 Zone. They’re far more secretive and, how do you and the twins put it, murderous than little Miss Hunter.”
You speak in hopes of cutting off your own horrible train of thought. It doesn’t work very well.
So you keep talking, “Speaking of Miss Hunter, I’m no closer to having an earthly idea of why she’s here. And whatever plans you have with her seem sloppy for your standards. I’d give them negative reviews. Maybe that’s why you didn’t share them with me?”
Another crack in your armor shows with your final teasing question. A crack that Sylus sees judging by how he takes his hands off your face and a step away from you.
“Than I’ll share my ideas with you to get some feedback for a better showing next time.”
You consider your words. Because this is your chance. Your chance to be in the know. The chance to know the truth. The chance to hear from Sylus’ own lips about why he brought this woman here.
But, you’ll also have to hear about their connection. Their past. And their future as soulmates.
You couldn’t hear that. You can barely think about it and see the proof with your own eyes everyday. Hearing it… well, that’s another story.
If he had offered this before their bond, you would’ve taken it. Jumped for joy, even. But you can’t now.
I can’t hear you say that you two are soulmates. I can’t hear you talk about your destined love and what that means for your future. I can’t.
Because hearing that means I can’t lie to myself any longer.
Hearing Sylus’ conformation means you take away that last layer of protection you have, that last bit of lies you tell yourself. Because you’ve know for years what the threads you see mean. You’ve confirmed it several times since you first saw them at age 7.
But, with Sylus, sometimes you cling to thought of being wrong. Of not seeing what you think you’re seeing. His words are all that it would take for that temporary peace to come crashing down.
Who in their right mind would do that to themselves?
“No. After all, I’m just a lowly actress in this show of ours. I’m no director.”
“Oh, you are no actress, Gamayun. If anything, you’re my director and writer. I’m merely here to finance whatever your heart desires to create. So, let us discuss our visions for Miss Hunter, and draw up a new episode this season.”
“I’d rather you consider this my resignation from that role into a new one. Because acting is starting to sound more appealing.”
Sylus pulls back. His face falls, and lets out a deep sigh that shakes you to your core.
“Than what do you want from me, Gamayun?” He pulls you close again, your head resting on his chest. “I’m so tired of fighting with you over something, some_one_, so trivial.”
That one words carries so much weight. It seeps into your lonely soul.
It’s exactly how you feel. How all that’s happened recently has made you feel. How all the secrets and the soulmates and the unrequited love has made you feel.
You’ve been tired for years. For so long you no longer know what “rest” really feels like.
Tired of loving a world that would reject you in a second. Tired of holding it together. Tired of lying.
And maybe that’s why you did what you did. Maybe that’s why you hurt Sylus. Because you’re tired of always being the one to run.
People in your life drifted from you, yes. But it was always you that had to put the final nail in the coffin of your relationships.
So maybe that’s why you’re so tired. And maybe you wanted to make Sylus tired. Tired of you. So tired of you and your shit that he just turns his back on you permanently.
“I’m tired too,” is all you can muster at the moment.
You pull back from Sylus. But not for long. As soon as you slip out of his embrace, you sit on his bed and pat the place beside you. He sits down immediately.
The way you two sit, facing each other and knocking knees together, reminds you of the position you and Miss Hunter sat in not too long ago. It warms you heart in an ironic and bitter way.
But you chase those thoughts away to focus. Focus on Sylus and focus on what you need to do right now. You take his hand, giving it light squeeze, before you look him directly in the eyes and begin speaking.
“I’m sorry,” it’s hard to get the words out, not out of pride, but out of pain. “For pulling away. For being so hostile earlier. For saying… no, threatening to leave you. And for not trusting you.”
For hurting you, and doing that so you’d chase me away. For making you believe I could just abandon you. For being jealous of you finding your destined love. For acting like a complete ass. For being hurt by some silly words.
“For?” You press him, despite the discomfort on his face.
“For the lying. For what I said when you confronted me. For not telling you about my plans to bring Miss Hunter here. For not telling of my plans with—“
“You don’t need to apologize for that.”
The shock on Sylus’ face is evident. Even if he doesn’t completely show it.
“I’m not entitled to every little thing in your life. Just as you aren’t mine. We both need to learn to be okay with that.”
You pause before continuing, “And we both are entitled to space whenever we want and for however we want. Just as long as we communicate things.”
Sylus just nods. He squeezes your hand tighter. His eyes have his signature glimmer back. One so uniquely Sylus you don’t know how to describe it.
My selfishness dulled that glimmer.
As you and Sylus just talk for a bit, you think to yourself about your new plan.
I can’t just leave. And even with Miss Hunter as my replacement, I need a better idea for my departure. Somewhere away from the two of them, but with ties to my current life so that there’s no suspicion._
An idea hits you: Onychinus has many connections, many of which you forged yourself.
Kai did always want to recruit me. Maybe I’ll finally take her up on the offer?
Author's Note: Also, please go to the original blurb to ask to be added to the taglist (it's impossible for me to keep checking every part every time I update).
2nd Author's Note: Do you prefer long chapters or short chapters? This story will be pretty long regardless, i just want to see what people prefer.
3rd Author's Note: Ikigai, Fun Fact = I originally was going to make this a one shot (and then plot ran away after breaking my kneecaps) and one where Reader didn't realize they were dating the entire time (but I wanted Sylus to suffer more, so I just made them very touchy, but with a line in the sand).
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