welcome to the crypt ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

˗ˏˋ𖤓⋮ . . . Given that the ground holds a lot of different people from a lot of cultures, Tamsy finds yours interesting since he doesn't get a lot of that on the Sphere, where everyone is pretty much divided and punished for their individuality.

˗ˏˋ𖤓⋮ . . . He admires the inflections in your tone when you speak your native language (he also ragebaits you at times just to hear your native language come out when you cuss him out, it's funny and adorable to him); He will 100% pick up some phrases from being around you so much.

˗ˏˋ𖤓⋮ . . . If you like to sing songs with your native language, he's definitely lurking around just to hear your pretty voice. Despite the fact that he wouldn't understand much, he thinks there's beauty in simply being able to hear your emotions through your voice.

˗ˏˋ𖤓⋮ . . . He's a fan of your baking and cooking. That man is there with you in the kitchen every time you decide to make something; Whether you're making drinks or food to eat, he offers his help and memorizes the recipes of his and your favorites.

˗ˏˋ𖤓⋮ . . . Tamsy isn't much of a dancer, so he'll rarely be up and about if you accompany Semiu and Enjin to the club, but he is mesmerized by your movements when you dance. Whether its kompa, lambada, bachata, punta, etc., he loves watching how intimate and skilled the dances are. If you offer to teach him, he initially declines politely and tells you that he's fine simply watching, but he'll take you up on the offer in the privacy of his/your room :) (he's shy /hj).

˗ˏˋ𖤓⋮ . . . When you tell him something romantic in your native language and refuse to translate it just to see his reaction, he gets annoyed (and then he blushes internally when you translate it later).

˗ˏˋ𖤓⋮ . . . If you have curly hair, he 1000% learns how to take care of your hair and how you like it done (he'll deadass learn to braid for you 'cuz he doesn't play about you at all). He's meticulous about his own hair so he enjoys days where you let him do your hair; it feels oddly domestic and strangely enough, he's into it.

˗ˏˋ𖤓⋮ . . . He admires how passionate you are about preserving your culture on the ground through art, whether it just be language, dance or other art forms, he enjoys how unapologetically yourself you are — it's refreshing to him.

Why did you have to care so much about others?

Tamsy found it endearing at first. Like when you joined Team Eager and fretted over his health despite him not having more than a scratch on his sleeve. You worried about the supporters constantly, protecting them throughout battles so he and Delmon could focus on trash beasts.

Hell, you even stressed about any citizens too close to the fight, mourned the old buildings in abandoned cities that got trampled on, and pitied the little treasures thrown from the sphere, given up on, and forgotten.

You were abundant in empathy. You offered your heart to anyone and anything, even if they didn’t want it.

The cleaners adored you, though most of them acted like they didn’t spare you much thought. He knew they did, because on your days off together, walking through a city looking for something fun to do with your pinky wrapped around his only one, your choker never stopped ringing.

Semiu wanted to tell you about your missions for the next day in advance so you could prepare.

Riyo wanted to ask if you were still interested in that haircut later tonight.

Enjin wanted nothing other than to bother you, apparently.

It was frustrating, having his time off with you constantly interrupted by others. But he’d learned his lesson the first time he suggested you take it off.

The entire day was spent worrying an emergency may have occurred, and what was supposed to be a relaxing day off together turned into him trying to ease your mind out of worrying for the others. In the end, you put it back on before noon. Now he had to constantly deal with the ringer going off.

Your heart was too big for your body. You’d always put others first.

He knew all of this, and despite that, he hadn’t considered the direct consequences of his actions.

Both Team Akuta and Team Eager were sent to support Rudo on his mission to find the girl in the no-man's land.

Tamsy wasn’t worried about trash beasts. The team was so buffed out, and they were so far from any civilization that he could focus on protecting you and enjoying the entertainment the other cleaners provided.

And much to his delight, the expedition lasted much shorter than anyone could have anticipated.

“I know why you’re here. You came to see Amo, so Amo came to see you.” The girl stepped from the shroud of sand before Rudo, who had fallen after being crept up on by Team Eager.

You trailed her movements as she lifted a sleeve to cover her mouth, hiding a slight cough with her chuckle.

“That’s unsettling.” Tamsy spoke up from beside you, snapping you from your trance.

A few hurried steps and you hooked your arm under Rudo’s, helping the boy stand despite his protests about not needing help. You dusted some of the ground-up waste off of his uniform, ignoring his attempts at slapping your hands away.

“All right. Any ideas on how long she’s been there?” Though Tamsy seemed more concerned with being watched, you understood his words completely differently from how he had intended them.

“Do you need a mask, darling? I always keep a spare. Goodness, you must be in pain.” You had already reached into your cleaner bag to pull out a more standard filtering mask, stepping in front of Rudo.

“I know the sand makes it hard to see, but I didn’t even notice her approaching us!” Delmon’s yelling mixed with the wind kicking up sand in all directions made it impossible for Tamsy to pick up on what Amo said to you, though he gathered she had declined your offer when he saw you return the mask to your bag with the slump of your shoulders.

“Hold on. Is that her?” Rudo’s eyes had widened beneath the mask, taking in the sight of the girl with an air of disbelief.

Team Akuta finally caught up, with their leader placing a hand on Rudo’s shoulder to offer a reassuring squeeze.

“Anyone else get the feeling our expedition just got a whole lot shorter?”

That seemed to be the truth, with everyone eventually following Amo to her tower not long after. Though most kept their guard up with the anticipation of traps, you seemed more than relaxed. When she’d requested everyone remove their masks, you had been the first to comply—much to Tamsy’s dismay—and assured the others that the air was in fact clean.

“Wow. Your room is really pretty, Amo.” Your small talk with her was the only chatter that seemed to be going on as everyone ascended the stairs.

“Thank you! It’s full of things Amo really likes.”

With everyone in her room, some jotting notes on its appearance while others prepared for some kind of altercation, you took your place at Tamsy’s side. This was Rudo’s mission after all; you could fret over the girl and her exposure to polluted air later.

Only, the conversation hit a wall moments after you stepped back.

The moment Enjin opened his mouth, to be precise.

A twinge of annoyance made its way to the blond’s face, bothered by the sudden shrill screaming as Enjin’s words riled up Amo. The only reason you hadn’t jumped in to comfort Amo was due to Tamsy’s oversized sleeve blocking your path, so close you could feel the distaff hidden below all the fabric bump into you.

The plan was unravelling by the second, and it became clear that there was a real sense of danger when Enjin’s body crashed to the floor in a puddle of water.

Zanka was at his side in a moment, prepared to defend, while you and Tamsy kept your eyes on Delmon.

“There’s no way he’s being controlled…” Your voice trailed, focusing on your companion in the event that he lashed out again.

Tamsy nodded, eyes flickering to you for a moment before narrowing at Delmon.

“All this for a fact-finding mission. I’m starting to regret ever agreeing to come along.”

No matter how anyone attempted to rationalize Delmons actions, the first priority was preventing casualty. It didn’t help that Amo’s vague replies encouraged distrust between the lot of you, to the point where you found yourself at odds with who was on which side.

When the hose nozzle turned in your direction, you were the first to react, pushing Gris out of the way and jumping aside with him.

“Open your eyes, Rudo!”

Tamsy had grabbed the new cleaner from the back of his hood, forcing him out of the way just in time to avoid getting hit by the water.

Spending so much time worrying about others, he was beginning to act like you.

“Tomme, how is Enjin?” Your voice was low, avoiding drawing any attention to you or the supporter.

“I’m not sure yet. Just worry about the others; I’ll take care of him.” With a quick thumbs up, you were reassured enough to re-enter the fight. Pulling yourself on your feet, your hands made way to your vital instrument, readying it in hand.

Enjin was out. Rudo was (almost) out. Delmon was out. It was down to yourself, Zanka, Tamsy, and Ri-

“EYES FORWARD, RIYO!”

Zanka’s warning was lost on her, another blast of water crashing across the room and leaving the redhead flat on her back.

“What’d I say? Pay attention!” His frustration made no difference, words lost between Riyo’s groaning and Amo’s giggling.

“Wow! You don’t know who’s a fan of who anymore, huh? And now you’re scared. Everyone would have lots of fun if they just talked to Amo. You can’t be enemies when you talk about romantic stuff.” The brunette seemed more than content with the way things were going.

Something about her was drawing you in, a sense of lightheadedness growing the more time you spent in the tower.

You swallowed what felt like a lump in your throat, standing defensively infront of Tomme and Enjin.

“Someone really messed you up.” If words could be laced with poison, Tamsy would have killed the girl already. She was loud and unpredictable and was causing this mission to be way more of a pain in the ass than he would have liked.

But above all else, she was putting you in danger.

You eyes held a certain haze to them, registering that Amo was speaking but unsure what exactly she was saying.

As evidenced from her explanation, Tamsy could see your body begin to sway.

That wouldn’t do.

He didn’t mind roughing up his other companions, but the same couldn’t be said for you.

‘-oops. Amo told a big secret.”

You barely registered her words, your mind fighting between reality and some unconscious draw to the past.

Tamsy had already fastened his mask over his mouth, adjusting the belts until he was sure a decent seal had formed.

“For future reference, it’s a dangerous game playing with memories that you know absolutely nothing about. We don’t always love good people, nor does loving them leave us with only good memories.”

He had reached your side, pulling your mask out of your bag as he spoke. Before you could protest, he pressed the mask over your mouth, holding it in place until his free hand could tighten the straps behind your neck.

A deep inhale of the filtered air began to reverse the effects of Amo’s power. Though you were sure the brief ‘kiss’ Tamsy pressed to your temple with the front of his mask helped clear your mind, too.

Thats right. No need to dwell on the past; you have people like him worth protecting here and now.

“Sometimes the people we want to kill are the ones we love.”

Zanka and Tamsy had closed in on the girl, prepared to put an end to the encounter.

“Rudo, what are you doing?!” From your position on the side, you were the only one that spotted him as he rushed towards the other two, giving them just enough time to brace their bodies before they were ripped away from Amo.

Fighting your own team was wrong on so many levels. If there was some way to avoid bloodshed, that’d be ideal. But as things were standing, no one seemed to be focusing on you or the two you stood to defend. Drawing attention to yourself only risked harm towards Tomme and Enjin.

“Seems we’ve miscalculated our numbers. How unfortunate.” Tamsy assessed those surrounding him, back to back with Zanka. “They’re too far gone now.”

“I’d hoped to never use my instrument on a friend. So this is on you.” Your breath hitched, grip tightening around your own instrument. You’d worked alongside Tamsy plenty of times, and his instrument was much better for this scenario than your own. All you could do now was be a shield.

“Guys…bear with me.” The distaff wound in deep blue threads dipped past the hidden veil of his sleeve.

“Vital Instrument: Tokushin.” Holding his arm out, the little distaff began to grow, expanding in size and length until it stood taller than its wielder. The thread was now a much thicker rope, the same blue the braided strands of hair over his shoulders carried.

“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill all you sons of bitches! You will never ever touch or hurt her again!” Delmon reacted to the transformation first, prompting the others to begin rushing to the two in the middle.

Eyes glowing in gold and blue narrowed.

“Net.”

His hand gripped the side of the rope, and with one tug, the spool began to unwind. Threads fanned out across the room, locking onto walls and crossing in net-adjacent patterns. Anyone in their path was immediately caught in their restrictive hold.

All movement ceased as quickly as it had begun, any attacks caught midair in the ever-tightening hold of his Tokushin. The only ones safe from their grasp were those unaffected by the air and Amo. It seemed the attack had purposefully missed your entire vicinity, courtesy of the wielder's own caution.

Had it not been your friends getting caught in it, you would have found the display captivating. Team Eager mostly fought trash beasts, which were almost always outside and much larger than a human.

Even if a different scenario, you’d seen something akin to this attack before and seen how it could cut right through the sentient piles of trash.

“Tamsy…” You wanted to voice caution, to request he be gentle with your friends.

But with the way things were going, it didn’t seem fair to ask him or Zanka to take hits, especially without any other plans.

“You butthead! You meanie butthead! You wanted to try something so bad that you’d test it on your own friends? Even the nice lady isn’t happy with that.” Amo’s attention made its way back to you for a split second, and Tamsy’s grip on his distaff tightened.

Her smile at you was unsettling, but at the very least it wasn’t malicious.

“Oh well. Nothing can stop Amo’s fans even if they have to tear themselves apart. And thanks to you, now they’re going to have to.” With emphasis on the word ‘you’, her gaze fell back on Tamsy smile twisting into something sinister.

“Point of order. My vital instrument is a distaff. Do you know what that is?” His fingers allowed the main rod of his Tokushin to spin slowly, tightening the ropes further. “It’s not just a staff; it’s a tool used in the spinning of thread.”

The rope began to strain, pulling tighter against itself and those in its hold, before everything began shifting. The spinning picked up in speed, and no one's resistance was able to stop the rope from winding them into one large spool of limbs and yarn.

Relieved, the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding escaped your lips.

Tamsy hummed his own tune of delight, leaning against the spool.

“And the thread has been spun.”

A low growl fell past Amo’s lips, her body struggling at the hold she was now captured in.

“Also. The psycho mind control lady is under our control!” His gesture above him drew the eyes of everyone free from her control to the web of ropes Amo had found herself in. You cringed at the way the restraints painfully dug into her. This was awful to bear witness to.

“Well? I think it’s time you let your fans go.” He cocked his head to the side, a prideful smirk evident in his voice despite the mask hiding it.

“Don’t drag your feet either. This situation's just a bit too surreal for my tastes. And, well, I don’t like that I mostly sat this one out.” Zanka stood from his crouched position, searing blue eyes partially hidden by a half-lidded gaze.

Your attention was turned away from their banter to the ones behind you, ensuring no one had been injured further in the ordeal.

“How’s Enjin holding up?” Gris leaned over the man to get a better look while you brushed some of the hair from the leader of Team Akuta’s face.

“If you need me to use my instrument, I can.” You were the trusty healer of Team Eager after all.

“Thanks, but there’s no need right now. I put his mask on, and that’s about all we can do.” Tomme was right; your healing was best suited for life-threatening injuries or open wounds. The effects of Delmon’s instrument were something you’d treated many times before, and it was evident it wasn’t going to cause Enjin much trouble.

There wasn’t much time to fret over Enjin before a shrill scream scared you back into the fight, whipping around to face Amo. Thick tears streamed down her face as she struggled against the painful bind. Another scream and your heart was racing, panic flooding your veins. She was evidently in pain, but she wasn’t in her right mind either.

The grip on your vital instrument was shaky, and your teeth dug so deep into your tongue you could taste iron.

It was your duty to prevent injury, but was it wise to let her go? It would only result in more pain for your team.

Tamsy’s head moved to face you and the supporters.

You were frozen in place, staring at Amo with eyes so shaky he wasn’t quite sure you could see properly.

“You think this can hold me? Hold ME? Then you’ve got another thing coming! Because I’m going to get out. I’m going to rip off your arms, and then I’ll kill the shit out of every last one of you!” A cacophony of Delmons yelling, Amo’s screeching, and the strained grunts from those under her control filled the blond’s ears.

If it was irritating him, then it must have been downright traumatizing you.

A sigh fell past his lips.

“Very well. If you truly want to murder us that badly, who am I to stand in your way?” He raised his distaff from the ground, not so much as wavering despite its evident heft, and allowed it to fall back to the floor with a crackle and chime.

The entire spool began to spin, picking up in speed once the ropes connected to his staff snapped away from it. It picked up velocity so quickly the shifting air caused your hair to whip around your face, and the entire tower began to tremble.

“YOU TRICKY BASTARD!” The floor began to crack as the spool drilled through concrete.

Sensing the danger, you and Tomme grabbed onto Enjin’s arms to drag him as far back as possible.

Just in time, the floor gave way to the pressure, the spool crashing down to the next level and leaving a gaping crater in the floor.

Another crash.

And then another.

You could feel the rumble grow distant as they continued to break through the various levels of Amo’s towers until everything went eerily quiet.

“Yo Tamsy, what the hell, man? That was way too far!” Dust settled, revealing Zanka has used his staff to catch himself on the edge of the top floor, and you saw the blur of Tamsy’s uniform as he jumped down into the hole.

He landed on his feet, knees bent to absorb the shock of the fall.

Everyone in the spool was now littered around the rubble, either partially buried by it or limp atop it.

“Thank goodness that’s finally over.” All the screaming had stopped, now replaced with faint sounds of dust and debris settling.

Zanka yanked his Assistaff from the wall, jumping from floor to floor until he made it to the bottom.

Everyone was seriously injured, if not on the brink of death.

He turned to Tamsy with a glare, the intense glow of his blue eyes burning brighter with fury.

“Are you insane, man?! You’d kill your own—”

“Ahaha! You see? That's what you get! This always happens whenever people don't just talk with Amo like Amo wants! They show Amo all their sides, even the ones they try hard to hide away. And now all your friends are going to die because you’re a meanie stinky face! Amo wonders if you were ever really friends at all!” The girl was staring down at the two men, giggles making their way through every pause for breath.

Using their conversation from below as cover, you took slow steps towards Amo until you were right behind her.

A hand grabbed your shoulder, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

“Seems like NOT dying is the new hotness now.” Enjin’s voice was muffled by the mask, though you could hear his grin. “Just remember, I did it first.”

Thank goodness he was back on his feet.

Speaking of, you quickly reached down and pulled one of Amo’s boots off, tossing it to the leader of Akuta.

“This is mine now, by the way. And that’s not up for discussion.” He held it like a trophy, resulting in the roll of your eyes.

He couldn’t see the smile under your mask, but he knew you were relieved.

Stepping away from the altercation with Amo, you were quick to rush down the stairs of the tower to meet up with the other cleaners.

Though Remlin’s spellcasting ability reversed the effects of deadly wounds, there were certainly still non-lethal injuries you could help with. Not far behind you were Tomme and the others, who stepped in to check on those who’d fallen such a great height.

The first person you checked on was Follo, who’d seemingly landed on his head. It was evident the spell had healed a good portion of the damage, though he was still littered with scrapes and gashes from the debris.

Before you could even activate your vital instrument to start mending him, a loud crack came from behind you.

Gasps left the mouths of those present, and the distinct sound of a body slumping to the floor was enough to get you to turn around.

Amo was on the ground, blood pouring from her nose. Rudo stood above her with his fist raised.

“Rudo! Hey, easy! You need to calm the hell down!” Enjin and Gris had moved to intercept him while you jumped to your feet.

Their voices blurred together, your mind too fixated on the panicked rise and fall of the brunette's chest.

He’d hit her pretty good; the damage was obvious.

“Yo healer, get her patched up, would you please?” The unwelcome nickname Enjin gave you pulled you from your thoughts, though your usual displeasure was nowhere to be seen. You only nodded, rushing to the aid of the girl as he pulled Rudo away from the crowd.

Tamsy kept his eyes on you, observing how you used your thighs to cushion the girls head from the floor. He mostly watched to ensure she wouldn’t cause you any harm, though he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t also to see your instrument at work.

“Vital Instrument: Child’s Play.” Your soft-spoken voice was a comfort to all you healed, though especially to those who were still recovering from Amo’s control. At your side, a kid’s wooden medical toy kit popped open, revealing a variety of now life-size tools for you to use.

He found your instrument adorable. The little mint and pastel pink tools were cutesy regardless of their toy or activated form, and their effects on the giver you treated were even more entrancing.

Of your available tools, you chose a package of bandages, picking out an orange one and smoothing it onto the cheek of the girl you tended to. Tomme had wiped the blood from her face for you, which gave Tamsy the perfect view of how the bandaid glowed absorbed into her skin.

With just that one treatment, the swelling and bruising on her face began to fade back to a healthy state.

The only evidence she'd been harmed at all was the tears prickling at the corner of her eyes.

“Does that feel better, Amo…?” Your voice was so gentle it felt as though only she could hear it, and she nodded quickly despite the faint headache that remained in her head.

“Yes, Amo doesn’t hurt much anymore. Thank you, Miss Healer.” You couldn’t help but smile, the normally irritating nickname a whole lot cuter coming from the young girl.

“I’m sorry about everything. We really did just come to talk, but we let things get out of hand.” Tomme helped the girl sit up, while you brushed some of the hair from her face and readjusted bits of her clothing to sit how they intended.

“You know I’d love to chat! We could have one now if you still want to.” Tomme removed her mask, and you followed her lead. She seemed to prefer seeing people's faces before; hopefully this would help her relax.

“Tomme and I honestly love talking about romantic stuff, we talk about it together all the time.” She was your favourite supporter, after all. You’d requested her for more missions than you could count. She was the one person you spoke openly to about your relationship with Tamsy.

“You both talk like how a good momma should sound.” Amo’s gaze finally moved up, though her words left you flustered.

“You think so?” Tomme chuckled. It was a sweet sentiment.

“Amo knows what a good momma sounds like. Amo had a good momma. Momma gave Amo her first love! He was who Amo got her treasure from. And why Amo saw the angel that goes between the sphere and the ground.” She was fidgeting with the ends of her skirt, hands tracing along her boots at the mention of her treasure.

“Oh? Thats nice.” You nodded along, not fully registering Amo’s words in your bashful state.

“You saw someone go to the sphere?” Tomme interrupted soon after, nudging Gris with her elbow.

“Wait. What did you just say?”

Noticing the important shift in the conversation, you took it as a sign to get out of the way of everything.

“How are you doing, Tamsy?” He was further from the group and watched as everything went down.

“Not a scratch.” You already knew that, he was certain, but he was still a tad cocky in how he delivered it.

You joined him at his side, facing towards Amo as the glow in your eyes faded. Your medical kit shifted back to its smaller size and fit perfectly in your cleaner bag, where it usually awaited use.

Nothing had gone as you expected. You couldn’t help but feel awful for both Amo and Rudo. The things that must have happened to leave them this way… You only knew bits and pieces of Rudo’s backstory, but the more Amo spoke, the more sick you felt. She was all alone out here and taken advantage of so young.

You weren’t sure what the cleaner next to you was thinking, but he seemed just as interested in her story as you did.

Everyone began to hypothesize on the supposed angel, throwing out ideas faster than you could come up with one.

“Or it’s nothing. She’s clearly mentally unstable. She might have imagined the whole thing.” Being the realist of the group—or pessimist, depending on how you looked at it—Tamsy was quick to point out the surrealism of her story.

“But the real question is, if true, how do angels cross the border?” Riyo shifted her weight from one foot to the other, hips cocking with the motion.

“With their wings?” Amo wasn’t quite sure what this so-called ’border’ was.

“Amo, do you think you can recall where the angel landed?” Getting a chance to work your own question into the conversation, you peered at the girl with curiosity.

“Past where Amo could see.”

The conversation didn’t make it much further than that. It was clear that was all Amo had to offer on the topic.

Before everyone took their leave, Amo was fitted with a choker.

You offered your blood right after Rudo, though in addition you encouraged her into an embrace.

The brunette was uncertain at first, but the feeling of your warm arms wrapping around her made her melt right into your embrace. Amo thought you smelled nice and that your smile was pretty before, but now she also knew you gave really nice hugs.

Behind you, watchful eyes fell into an irritated glare, though it lasted shorter than anyone could have caught.

Letting her take her time, you only pulled away once she began to let go.

“Call me at least once a day, okay, dear? Just so we know you’re safe.” The idea of leaving her alone out here made you uncomfortable, but it was clear Amo needed time to say goodbye to things before she moved on.

“Yes, Miss Healer, Amo promises!” Her smile was so contagious you couldn’t help but smile back, patting her head.

“See you later!” You jogged towards Tamsy, who stood waiting for you, and joined the rest of the cleaners on their trek out of Penta.

After making it back to HQ, you were quick to wash off the grime of the day with a cold shower. While you were at it, you gave your uniform a thorough cleaning to remove any of the pungent ground-up waste that made up the dunes of Petra.

All things considered, you had walked out of the altercation in good shape, which made your work for tomorrow far less dreadful.

Damp strands of hair from your shower still stuck to your face as you pulled your pyjama shorts over your legs, allowing the waistband to snap against the tank top that hugged your waist in all the right ways. When your feet were more dry than wet, you stepped into your slippers and exited the bathroom.

All you needed was your choker and your vital instrument, which you managed to hold with one hand so you wouldn’t struggle much with the door on the way out of your room.

His room was only a few doors down, the hallway that made up Eager’s and Child’s dorms mostly uninhabited.

Eager was a much smaller team compared to that of Akuta. Which meant you guys shared with the younger group. Not that you minded; they were at the opposite end of the hall and went to bed pretty early. In fact—as much as you loved them—you’d choose sharing with Team Child over the disruptive Team Akuta any day.

You only got to knock once before the door opened, a blanket of blond and navy hair taking up most of your view.

“I was wondering when you’d show.” He’d clearly just showered as well, evident by his pristine hair, though it was clear he had taken the time to dry it unlike you.

He stepped out of the way, closing the door behind you with the click of the lock.

“Sorry, I took my time cleaning my uniform for tomorrow. That dust gets absolutely everywhere.” You visibly shuddered, managing to get a chuckle from your partner.

“You’re quite the dramatic one, aren’t you?” His eyes followed you as you put your instrument alongside his Tokushin on the nightstand and hung your choker on the same hook as his. Your items always found a home next to his things, the same way you always found yourself back at his side.

“Oh please, are we forgetting your big display today? Zanka was complaining over dinner about you having a stick up your—”

“Okay, I get it.” He raised his hands in mock surrender.

He looked much less menacing with his hair down and in his sleepwear—just a large long-sleeve shirt and pyjama pants—not that his looks ever made you shy away.

Even now, in the dimly lit room alone with him, you dared to step closer.

Fingers brushing the long strands from his face, you were able to catch the way his eyes followed the tips of your fingers until they were in his periphery, settling on your own eyes instead. You’d spent all day worrying about others; you were sure he wanted you to dote on him now.

Still, your face carried the weight of someone who had a lot on their mind, even if your anxious smile did its best to convince him otherwise.

“Something's troubling you.” His hands lazed their way around your waist, thumbs hooking around the waistband of your shorts to force your hips against him.

Your smile faltered, letting your head drop under the canopy of his hair to rest in the crook of his neck.

“Everything from today. Rudo, Amo, the ‘angel,’ the tower.” So much of it had been out of place, but one thing seemed to fester in a bundle of dread and anxiety that welled up in your gut. “Amo’s out there in a no-man’s land, all alone. I can’t help but be worried that if something happened to her, no one would know.”

You couldn’t see the way his eye twitched when you brought her up with all the hair in your vision, and without it you could only assume the way his hands tightened on your waist was to comfort you.

“I’m sure if something happens she would call one of us. Our chokers keep us connected, after all.” His voice had dropped to a mumble, lips pressing a kiss to your temple. You could feel the cold metal of his piercing as he did so.

“….You’re right. But no matter how I look at it, I just have a bad feeling, is all.” You leaned back so you could get a good look at his face. He looked like an angel in what little lighting the window allowed to slip in. “I’m sure I’ll feel better by tomorrow. Mission should keep my mind off things.”

Tamsy hummed in agreement, offering a closed-eyed smile, before letting you go.

You moved towards the bed, deciding to lie on top of the comforter and enjoy the breeze from the open crack in the window just above your head. It was too hot for blankets, especially with someone as clingy as Caines.

He took his time getting into bed, first brushing his teeth and cleaning out his piercing before making his way to the bedside.

“You’re forgetting something.” He chuckled, reaching over you to pull the slippers off your feet.

They were set down neatly on the floor at the base of the bed, his alongside them.

Joining you on top of all the sheets, he flopped down onto the mattress, arms clinging to your sides and face buried into your stomach. His hair cascaded around the bed, though most of it ended up on your chest and on your face.

“Oh gosh, Rapunzel is drowning me in her hair.” Your voice was muffled, hand worming its way out of his grip to move any strands away from your face. You let your arm fall over him, hugging around his shoulders with a reassuring squeeze.

Tamsy chose to ignore your comment, instead peppering kisses along your clothed midsection until it elicited a giggle from your lips.

“Goodnight, lover.” Done bombarding you with his affection, he let his head come to rest on your stomach, enjoying the rise and fall of each breath you took.

A satisfied hum dragged itself out of him when your fingers messed into his hair to scratch at his scalp.

“Sleep well, Tamsy.” Your voice was much softer this time, a welcome change.

It wasn’t long before you fell asleep. He remained awake a moment longer, allowing his thumbs to rub slow circles into your skin.

Moments like these were a treasure to him.

The next morning came too soon for his tastes; he was woken by his own alarm and you pushing him off of you.

He resisted, holding you down in the bed for a moment longer than you’d have probably liked.

“Tamsy, I need to go…! Just because you have nothing to do today doesn’t mean I can slack off too.” Oh, but how fun it’d be to keep you here until you were late enough to get in trouble. He loved the idea of you all flustered, trying to explain yourself to the others. Knowing you, you would take the blame for his actions, too.

But he was on a tight schedule too; it was his day off after all.

Once you had scrambled your way out of his room, carrying only your instrument, he decided to get up.

It was only on his way out the door that he realized you’d left your choker in his room.

He contemplated hiding it for a moment. If he kept it, you’d surely 'miss' Amo’s call.

No matter, his puppet had likely already dragged her across Petra to where she’d be staying for the time being. You'd never get that call.

“Oh, Tamsy! There you are. Do you have my—?” You’d found him in the hall, decked out in your fresh cleaner’s uniform and ready to head out the door.

He was already holding the choker out with both hands, open and ready to clasp. You leaned in, letting him wrap it around your neck until one end locked into the other. He took the proximity as a chance to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re with Team Child today, aren’t you?”

“Yep! Nothing major today. We’re going to meet up with Akuta later for dinner, too, so no need to wait on me!” You returned the kiss, a quick one to his lips which left a smudge of your lipgloss on him. You left for the exit as quickly as you’d appeared.

You’d be gone a while, then. That was a shame. Normally you two requested days off together. When you couldn’t, you did your best to spend time together outside of the other’s mission. It seems that wouldn’t be the case today; you likely wouldn’t be back till late.

At least he had a lot of time to visit his captive.

What was supposed to be one small mission with Team Child and a group dinner had turned into something much, much worse.

Having both teams abducted by the raiders was already bad, but being without the supporters and separated from your companions was what could only be described as the worst-case scenario.

Chokers weren’t working, and you had been completely isolated up until Enjin came bursting through the hall before you and led everyone to the main chasm. The entire ordeal had passed like a fever dream, though you recalled tending to Guita with your instrument and stabilizing Zanka as best as you could before being electrocuted to all hell. Then, everything started falling.

Guita had cushioned everyone's fall, but the aftermath of the battle was overwhelming.

Zanka was stabilized, but your instrument did little work on poisons you didn’t know. Riyo was also beat up, which you managed to fix. What was hurting Rudo was entirely psychological, something you could only help with words and time.

Unfortunately, the sight of Amo’s boots clutched in his grip left you speechless.

So there you were, sitting in the very back of one of the emptier jeeps. Gris was driving, and Rudo was passed out alongside Enjin in the middle row.

You were slumped against Tamsy’s shoulder, and though you’d been silent for the majority of the ride, it wasn’t long before your exterior began to crack.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, caught by the fabric of his jacket. You were clinging to one of his arms, his hand planted firmly on one of your thighs. No matter how tired you were, your mind was slam-packed with anxieties over Amo.

“And we’re certain it wasn’t the Raiders?” Tamsy kept his voice low, keeping the conversation between the two of you. He’d been doing his best not to press you too much, allowing you time to gather your thoughts.

You nodded, your shaky grip on his jacket faltering.

“Not yet, though Rudo seems pretty sure, but…” your voice trailed, words growing quieter anytime your subconscious began to slip.

“But?”

“It doesn’t matter to me who did it. What matters is that she’s probably scared right now, alone, and she wouldn’t have been had…had…” This time your head fell against his shoulder, eyes closed as your body could no longer run on empty.

When your breathing evened out and Tamsy was certain you wouldn’t wake up, he took the opportunity to adjust you to a more comfortable position against him. Using the softer inner part of his jacket sleeve, he wiped away any remaining tears from your cheeks.

How troubling.

You’d gotten quite attached to that Amo girl in such little time.

And right you were. The girl was very much alone and terrified. But there was nothing you could have done to prevent it.

When everyone arrived back at HQ, he slipped his arms under you to carry you back to his room. You looked so beautiful when you were this vulnerable to him, and if anything, the dried-up tears on your cheeks added to the allure.

It truly hurt him to see you so distraught, but it was only temporary.

Eventually the cleaners would find Amo; that was all apart of the plan to break Rudo.

Gently, he laid you down on his bed and helped you out of your uniform. For now he could only clean you with a damp towel, removing battle grime as best as possible before dressing you in one of his long-sleeved sleeping shirts. You curled right up into his blankets on your own, soon joined by his own body pulling you back against his chest.

This was all the direct result of his actions, whether you knew it or not, anyhow.

In the meantime, it was a bonus that you’d become dependent on him, so caught up in your fragile little emotions and guilt.

Your caring nature was still cute, even if it left you like this at times.

Author's Note ── Christ I am down bad for this guy; it isn't even funny. I have so many ideas on what to write for him too, like, damn!!!!!

That day, you went into the city alone. You needed to buy a few small things. Nothing important: just bandages, fastenings, a couple of parts that always seemed to break at the worst possible moment. You walked through the familiar streets, breathing in the smell of dampness, metal, and old trash, listening to merchants arguing somewhere in the distance. The Ground kept living. Even after his disappearance. For some reason, that felt unfair.

You stopped by a stall and picked up a roll of strong tape, but you never got the chance to ask the price. Because you felt a painfully familiar gaze. You slowly turned your head.

Tamsy was standing on the other side of the street.

At first, you thought it was a mirage. A foolish, impossible mistake made by a mind tired of waiting for someone it was not allowed to wait for.

But people were walking around him. One woman irritably bumped his shoulder with her basket. A boy ran past and nearly stepped on his foot, while a merchant nearby kept shouting, praising his goods.

The world could see him. Which meant he was real. Tamsy Caines stood in the middle of the city so calmly, as if he had never disappeared at all. As if he had never shattered anyone’s trust. As if he had not become the very name now spoken through clenched teeth.

He wore dark blue clothes with golden accents. Clothes that did not belong in this place at all. His long, light-blue hair lay loose over his shoulders. His face was just as beautiful, calm, almost gentle.

And most importantly, he was smiling at you. You felt something inside you snap. You probably should have called someone. Stepped back. Or at least drawn your weapon. But your fingers only tightened around the roll of tape until your nails dug into your palm.

Tamsy didn’t move. He waited for your reaction. And that made it even worse. He didn’t call out to you. Didn’t approach first. Didn’t force you, didn’t insist. He simply stood there, on the other side of the street, allowing you to make the choice yourself. As if he already knew what it would be.

You dropped the tape back onto the stall and walked toward him. Every step echoed in your chest like a dull thud.

Your mind screamed: Stop!

But your body wouldn’t listen.

People moved between you, and for a few moments Tamsy disappeared behind shoulders, baskets, folds of coats. Then he appeared again: just as still, just as patient, with that same smile that made you want to hit him and cling to him at the same time.

When you finally stopped in front of him, the world seemed to grow quieter.

“Where have you been?” you asked.

Your voice came out hoarse. Not at all the way you had planned while walking toward him. You had wanted to be strong. Wanted the question to strike him like a blade. Wanted to make him understand what he had done. But it came out almost pitiful.

Tamsy looked at you with the softness you hated most.

“Far away,” he answered.

You swallowed.

“What did all of this mean?”

He tilted his head slightly.

“Do you really want to hear the answer here?”

You exhaled sharply.

“Don’t play with me.”

His smile grew thinner.

“I never played with you.”

Those words hit unexpectedly hard, because you wanted him to lie. You wanted him to say something obviously false, vile, and cold, just as a traitor should. Then, perhaps, it would have been easier to push him away. Easier to believe that everything between you had been part of the deception.

But Tamsy looked at you as if, with you, he had never pretended. And that broke you worse than any lie.

“Come with me,” he said.

He said it so simply and quietly, as if he were not asking you to betray your life, but to turn into the next alley.

You let out a short, almost nervous laugh.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“You disappeared. You betrayed us. And now you’re saying...”

“I betrayed them,” he interrupted.

You froze. Tamsy took a step closer.

“But not you.”

Those words were cruel. He knew exactly where to strike. He knew that somewhere inside you lived that ugly, shameful thought: Why did he leave without me?

You hated yourself for it. And he, it seemed, had always understood it. Maybe he had even used it.

“Don’t you dare,” you whispered.

“I came for you.”

The street around you kept roaring with life. But the noise seemed distant, unreal, as if the two of you were standing beneath a glass dome where only his voice, your uneven breath, and the terrifyingly calm hand Tamsy extended toward you existed.

“Come.”

You looked at his palm. You had taken that hand so many times before. After missions, on rooftops, in half-collapsed passages, when he helped you up. When he lazily pulled you along, saying you walked too slowly. When once, almost by accident, he intertwined your fingers in the dark and pretended nothing special had happened.

You remembered the warmth of his hand and the softness of his skin better than your own prayers.

“If I go,” you said, “there’ll be no way back?”

Tamsy was silent for a few seconds. Then he answered:

“There is always a way back. You just won’t be the person who can return by it anymore.”

That should have frightened you. And honestly, it did. But it didn’t stop you. You placed your hand in his. Tamsy closed his fingers around your palm gently, almost reverently. As if you were not prey and not a weakness, but something he truly wanted more than anything else in the world.

The feeling made you want to cry. He led you through the alleys. The city gradually grew quieter, the light dimmer. The walls pressed closer around you, leaving only a narrow strip of gray sky above your head. You followed him and thought that if any of the Cleaners were here, they would have grabbed you by the shoulders and shaken you.

Riyo would definitely scream. Zanka would call you an idiot. Rudo would look at you as if you had once again chosen someone who didn’t deserve a single chance. And Enjin… You didn’t know what Enjin would say. Maybe nothing. Or maybe he would hate you. And those thoughts made everything even heavier.

“They’ll look for me,” you said.

Tamsy didn’t turn around.

“Of course.”

“They’ll know it was you.”

“I’m counting on that.”

You stopped. He stopped too, though he did not turn around right away.

“Why do you want that?”

Tamsy looked over his shoulder. In the half-light of the alley, his eyes seemed darker.

“I want them to know you didn’t leave by accident.”

You felt cold beneath your ribs.

“You want to hurt them?”

He came closer.

“I want them to understand that you chose me.”

You stared at him for a long time. And the most terrifying thing was not in his words. The most terrifying thing was that part of you wanted them to understand it too. For someone, anyone, to finally see: you had not simply suffered because of Tamsy Caines. You painfully loved him. So blindly, foolishly, and desperately that even his betrayal could not tear that feeling from your chest.

“You’re awful,” you said.

Tamsy touched your chin.

“I know.”

“And you’re not even asking for forgiveness.”

“Would you forgive me?”

You were silent. He smiled almost sadly.

“See?”

Tamsy released your chin and offered you his hand again.

“Let’s keep going.”

And you went. At the end of the alley, there was a door. Old, rusty, completely unremarkable. The kind of door that could lead to a cellar, a storage room, an abandoned shelter. You had seen hundreds like it.

But when Tamsy touched it, a thin line of light passed over the metal. As if beneath the dirt there was not rust, but gold.

The door opened without a sound. There was no room behind it. Only pure, cold light. You involuntarily stepped back half a pace. Tamsy did not hold you.

“Last chance,” he said.

You smirked, though your lips treacherously trembled.

“Don’t pretend you’d let me go.”

Something alive flickered in his eyes.

“I would.”

“But you know I won’t.”

“Yes.”

For a moment, hatred and love became impossibly one and the same feeling. You stepped into the light yourself. The world disappeared. As if someone had erased the dirty streets, the noise, the smell of smoke, the gray sky, your duties, your comrades, your former name. First there was the sensation of falling. Then flight.

You opened your eyes in an entirely different world. Before you stretched a hall: vast, shining, too beautiful to be real. Tall windows rose high above, and beyond them spread the sky, the true sky, clean and deep, without soot, without pipes, without the endless dirty veil.

Sunlight poured through the glass in broad golden stripes, lay across the marble floor, reflected in crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling like frozen stars. The walls were decorated with delicate patterns. Not gaudy, not heavy, but graceful, as if they had been drawn not by hands, but by the wind. Golden lines climbed the columns like the stems of plants that had never known the dust of the Ground.

The air smelled completely different. Not of iron, burning or dampness. But of something like real flowers. The unfamiliarity of it almost made you nauseous.

You stood in the middle of the luxurious hall in your Cleaner uniform: worn, dark, stained with marks that could no longer be washed out. Dried mud clung to your boots. There was a small tear in your sleeve from your last mission. Calluses marked your palms. Here, all of it looked obscene. As if you had brought with you not clothes, but the Ground itself.

Tamsy appeared beside you without a sound. And here, he was real. Below, he had always seemed too calm, too light, too foreign. But here, the light fell on him so naturally, as if everything around you had been made specifically for his silhouette, his beautiful face, and his smile.

He belonged to this place. And you did not.

“It’s beautiful,” you said quietly.

“Yes.”

“I hate it.”

Tamsy looked at you. You swallowed.

“I hate that now I understand.”

He came closer.

“Understand what?”

You looked around the hall.

“Why you never looked at our world the way we did.”

Tamsy was silent.

Somewhere deep inside the castle, soft, flowing music played. It did not simply sound, it breathed around you.

“It wasn’t a bad place,” Tamsy said at last. “It just wasn’t mine.”

You smirked.

“And me?”

He looked at you so intently that the whole hall seemed to recede. He took your hands in his and pressed them to his chest.

“You, I wanted to take away from the very day I first saw you.”

Your heart clenched painfully.

“Is that why you came?”

“Yes.”

“Not out of regret?”

“No.”

“Not to explain yourself?”

“No.”

“And if I demand explanations?”

Tamsy took another step closer.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

You lifted your gaze.

“The truth?”

He smiled.

“My truth.”

You almost laughed.

“How convenient.”

“Truth is always convenient to the one who knows how to use it.”

There he was. Not the gentle Tamsy from your memories. Not the calm comrade sitting on the windowsill after a mission. Not the one who fixed your jacket and caught you by the elbow when you stumbled.

But the real Tamsy Caines: beautiful, dangerous, almost foreign. Ruthlessly honest only as far as it benefited him.

And still loved.

He offered you his hand.

“Will you dance with me?”

You looked at him in disbelief.

“You brought me here to dance?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

Tamsy tilted his head.

“So you’ll stop standing between two worlds. You deserve better.”

The silence after those words became almost tangible. You knew he was not only talking about two different worlds. He was talking specifically about you. About the part of you that still wanted to go back. And the part that had belonged to him for a long time already.

“And the dance is supposed to decide that for me once and for all?”

“No,” Tamsy said softly. “You’ve already made the decision. The dance will only help you accept it.”

You wanted to hit him, but instead, you placed your palm in his hand. He drew you closer. His other hand settled on your waist possessively, but not roughly. Just enough for you to understand that he was not holding you by force, he simply knew very well that you wouldn’t leave.

The first steps came awkwardly to you. You were not used to marble floors. To music created not to drown out the noise of the streets, but for beauty. You were used to leaping across rooftops, to fighting, to dirt beneath your nails, to heavy breathing after a battle.

But Tamsy led easily. He guided you, and you adjusted to him. Again and again. Step. Turn. Another. His fingers held your palm, his breath brushed your temple, and gradually your body began to obey him faster than your own thoughts.

“Like that,” he said quietly.

You glared at him.

“Don’t praise me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m starting to like all of this.”

His smile deepened.

“I know.”

He spun you. The hall blurred around you. Gold, light, marble, windows, sky. Everything blended into a shining, impossible whirl. You saw only Tamsy. His eyes, his lips, the shadow of his long lashes, the blue strand of hair near his cheek. You hated how beautiful he was. You hated that beside him, your heart still behaved as if he had not broken it with his own hands.

“You understand I won’t be the same, don’t you?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“They won’t forgive me.”

“Possibly.”

“I won’t forgive myself.”

Tamsy slowed his steps.

“Do you want forgiveness?”

You opened your mouth, but found no answer. He watched you attentively, almost tenderly.

“Or do you want someone to finally stop demanding that you be good?”

Those words struck too precisely. You turned away. But Tamsy did not let you hide. Not by force, but by the movement of the dance. He turned you back toward him, and once again you were face to face.

“Don’t,” you whispered.

“Don’t what?”

“I don’t want you to see me like this…”

“Like what?”

You tightened your fingers on his shoulder.

“Real.”

Tamsy was silent for a long time. Then he leaned closer.

“That is exactly why I came for you.”

The music became quieter. Or maybe it only seemed that way.

Somewhere beyond the windows of the Sphere, the flawless sky shone. Far, far below, there remained people who had perhaps already noticed your disappearance. Maybe someone had found the purchases you abandoned. Maybe someone was questioning the merchants. Maybe your name was already being spoken at headquarters.

You imagined their faces. And at last, the pain reached your throat.

“Am I a bad person?” you asked barely audibly.

Tamsy did not answer right away. He stopped in the middle of the hall, but he did not let you go.

“No,” he said at last. “You’re a person who wanted to change her life.”

You smirked through a trembling breath.

“It’s that simple?”

“The most terrifying things are often very simple.”

You looked up at him.

“And what did you want?”

Tamsy touched your cheek. There was no longer any old accident in that touch. Now it was open, tender, almost frighteningly careful.

“You.”

You closed your eyes. There it was. The word you had been waiting for. The word for which, as it turned out, you could betray.

His lips touched yours slowly, carefully, as if he were giving you the chance to step back even now. But his hand on your waist held you steadily. Firmly enough for you to feel that he wanted you to stay.

You answered the kiss. And in that moment, something inside you finally surrendered of its own free will. The softness of his lips felt so pleasant against yours that you involuntarily wanted to bite them, just a little. You felt the cold of his piercing, and for some reason it was so strangely, shiveringly pleasant that your hands tightened on his shoulders. Tamsy smiled into the kiss and only deepened it.

When he pulled away, you were still holding on to his shoulder, as if otherwise you might collapse from lack of air.

“Tell me,” Tamsy whispered, touching your temple with damp lips. “Would you have come with me if you had known everything from the beginning?”

You laughed quietly and bitterly.

“No.”

He went still. You opened your eyes and looked at him.

“But I would still have waited for you to come for me.”

Something changed on Tamsy’s face. A small crack in the perfect mask. He looked at you as if you had just said something far more frightening than a confession of love. Maybe you had.

Because love that sees the trap and enters it anyway is more terrifying than any innocence.

Tamsy took your hand again. The music rose in a soft wave.