く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

The rain kept drumming against the pavement, but the silence shared between the two of you was deafening. Dazai’s embrace grew a fraction tighter, his hand firmly placed at the back of your head. He didn’t want to say anything, he didn’t know what to say, anyway. But he knew that he wanted someone to share his burdens with when he was younger, and he didn’t want you to carry this alone.

“I can’t breathe when I’m there,” You admit through choked sobs.

The tears wouldn’t stop. It seeped through Dazai’s thick coat and onto his shoulder. “I don’t…I don’t want to do it anymore. I was starting to be friends with them.”

“Who’s them, kiddo?” He hums against your hair. He wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of man, but he was trying his best to give all the comfort he could. “You gotta tell me. It’ll feel better that way. You haven’t even told me what happened…”

You pull away, wiping away tears that fell on your cheeks. Dazai sees the blood splattered all over your white shirt, and he seemed to put the pieces together. “Mori sent me on a mission with the new recruits…”

“They didn’t know what to do, they probably haven’t even started any training yet…but he put them on the frontlines for me.” Saying it out loud, it was clear you didn’t play any major role in their deaths, the blame couldn’t be pinned on you. But deep down, you felt like the blame was entirely yours to take. “I thought I’ve made it abundantly clear over the years that I was capable of doing everything by myself…Why did he have to put them on that mission with me? I-I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know they had no clue what to do. I thought that they’d at least put up a fight o-or I’d be quick to react but…”

“Shh,” he whispers, pressing a finger over his lip. “The rain stopped. We can’t have it pouring all over again, can we?” It was his signature, playful tone. You knew he was just trying to cheer you up, making sure you don’t dwell too much on your feelings, but you weren’t sure if anything could cheer you up right now.

“Meat buns or my place?”

“...What?”

“Well, we either get some food in your stomach or clean you up. You smell like copper. And gunpowder.” He chuckles, helping you get back on your feet. You agreed to go to his place, but were still reluctant, considering the dorm was still the property of the Armed Detective Agency.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to go there…? I think one of your detectives has a problem with me. The weretiger.”

“Ah, probably. You guys did put a bounty for his head, after all. But worry not! They’re all at work!”

“...So why aren’t you there with them?”

“So many questions, yada yada yada!” He whines dramatically, putting his hand over your face to shut you up. “And you should feel blessed that I was not at work! Otherwise, you’d be all alone here again. Say, was this alleyway the first place that came to mind when you got sad? I bet it was! You missed me, didn’t you?”

You could only blink at his talkativeness, your face completely deadpan. You didn’t have enough energy to reply with your usual sharp wit.

The walk to his dorm was a quiet one. People were carrying groceries, waiting for cabs, ducking under awnings to escape the remaining drizzle, completely oblivious that the teenage girl passing them was covered in the blood of her comrades.

Though, Dazai couldn’t deny that your whole vibe definitely earned you some strange looks. You moved so elegantly, but your whole presence felt distant. It definitely creeped a few people out.

“You know…you’re lucky you have a pretty face. Your whole vibe though…It’s creeping people out. Lighten up, kiddo. Aren’t you happy your Dazai-nii is hanging out with you?

“...No. And I don’t care. They can stay creeped out. I had a rough afternoon.”

“Right, I forgot about that. Must’ve been real scary, huh? Not knowing what to do while your friends were getting shot.”

“Look,” you halt, a certain exhaustion in your voice. “Are you trying to make me feel better or rub it in my face even more?” you had no intention of sounding angry or annoyed, but the words came out that way. Dazai realized he may have overstepped.

“Right. Sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood, as always.”

The rest of the trek through the damp streets is swallowed by a mutual silence.

By the time you reach the Armed Detective Agency’s dorms, the drizzle finally stopped. Dazai leads you up the narrow stairwell, until you stop in front of a plain, unmemorable door. “Hey, I don’t have much stuff in here, but I hope you can stay for a little bit. Just until you’re fully rested.”

The lock clicks open under his key. The apartment was small and plain, smelling faintly of cloth and damp air drifting through an ajar window. It wasn’t your usual view of expensive velvet curtains, polished desks, none of that. It feels remarkably ordinary. And because it is ordinary, it feels safe.

“Step one,” Dazai chirps, his voice rising to a playful tone. “Go clean yourself up! We can’t have you looking like a crime scene, can we?” he walks over to his small wardrobe. You managed to take a peek, and sure enough, he didn’t have much stuff. You watch as he sifts through the sparse hanger rack. The closet is mostly empty, only a few identical shirts for work and worn-out basics. There are no personal tokens or luxury items that someone of his former status or current occupation would easily afford.

A devastating realization dawned on you: Osamu Dazai doesn’t value his own existence enough to take up space in the world. He is a man that doesn’t see any point in investing in a future he isn’t sure he wants to be a part of. You recognize that emptiness. Because you do the exact same thing.

When Mori hands you your heavy envelope of blood money after a job well done, you don’t spend it. Weapons don’t need comfort, after all. You choose to leave it rotting in a drawer, you don’t even open a bank account for it. Your empty apartment, worn-out clothes, boxes of instant food are your choices. You chose to live a frugal life not because you were struggling with money, but it was a subtle everyday act of punishment you disguise as detachment.

Seeing that same philosophy in the legendary former executive makes you feel a strange sense of familiarity. “This’ll be way too big on you, but it’s way better than what you’re wearing.” Dazai breaks the silence, turning back to you with a big gray shirt and shorts with the drawstrings pulled tight.

“That’s…something.”

“Hey, you can’t complain! Would you rather stay in those clothes? C’mon, the bathroom is that way.”

“Whatever…I’m gonna use your shower.”

“Ah, is that so?” he hums, rubbing the back of his head. “I don’t have much there. I’m assuming a girl your age has an assortment of skincare products, but you won’t find any there.” You nod understandingly, gripping the fabric tightly against your chest.

When you step out twenty minutes later, you are practically drowning in his clothes. The hem of the shirt reaches past your thighs and the shorts end just above your ankles. “Seriously…how tall are you? These are way, way too big!”

Dazai is already sitting on the floor by a low wooden table, two steaming mugs of instant coffee poured. “Sit, sit,” he hums, patting the spot next to him. “You look like you were thrown in the washing machine along with those clothes.”

You huff, sitting next to him and wrapping your hands around the warm ceramic mug. “Sorry, I don’t know what trendy drinks you young girls drink these days. I only keep instant coffee in stock for occasions like this!”

“So,” Dazai starts, leaning his chin into his palm. “Since my coworkers won’t be needing me for a few more hours, and you clearly aren’t in any shape to go back to that godforsaken building…I have officially decided to disrupt your schedule by booking you for the rest of the evening!”

You blink, looking up at him. “...What?”

“Yep!” He says cheerfully. “You’re hanging out with me, and you don’t have a choice. We can talk, watch something on the TV, anything! Whatever you wanna do!”

“...I don’t need your pity.” Though the words seemed harsh, you didn’t have any real bite. You knew all too well what pity looked like—pity was the look the grown ups at the orphanage gave you when every foster family turned you down, it was the look in the eyes of your subordinates when you came back from training battered and bruised. You didn’t know whether to be touched or offended by Dazai’s kindness, because, in Mori’s philosophy, being pitiful meant being weak.

Dazai just smiled, his playfulness unwavering. “It’s more understanding rather than pity, kid.”

The word understanding made you hold your breath. You were never understood. No one could have possibly walked in the same shoes. You stare down at the black liquid in your mug, the steam and ripples distorting your reflection. Understanding is…such a foreign word in your vocabulary. As the demon prodigy, you were trained to understand logic, power, but this? Nobody was supposed to understand that. You didn’t expect anyone to.

“Don’t call me a kid,” you mutter, slapping away his hand that reached out to pat you on the head, but the protest is weak.

Dazai lets out a soft hum, leaning back against the wall. “You are a kid. A stubborn, prideful, rude one at that. You remind me of someone I used to know.” He tilts his head, looking out the window and seeing the sky start to fade into a twilight purple. “He thought that being human meant being weak. He didn’t know the difference.”

Your fingers tighten around the mug, “And what happened to him?”

“...He found light.” Dazai says simply. There is no drama in his voice this time, no theatrics. Just a factual statement. “Now, Mori’s logic works perfectly on paper, don’t you think? He’s an expert at making strategies,”

He looks back at you, his dark eyes hidden under the messy fringe of his hair. “But I don’t think you’re a weapon, Y/N. If you keep letting him reduce you to one, well, he’ll just keep operating you like one until there’s nothing left.”

You swallow hard, the hot liquid burning your throat. You want to argue with him, to defend the man who took you off the streets when you had nothing, but the image of Sayaka and the others running into the line of fire flashes. “I don’t know how to be anything else,”

“If I’m not his right-hand man…I don’t know what I am.”

Dazai’s expression softens, a genuine, quiet warmth bleeding into his features. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight, kiddo.” He reaches out, gently placing his hand on your head. “You’re only 15, after all. You probably don’t even do your own taxes.”

“Tsk,” You click your tongue at his sudden playfulness, averting your gaze. “You’re rude.”

“Says you! All you’ve done is complain and whine the whole day!”

“Yeah, well, you aren’t the most pleasant person to be with.”

“Most women would say otherwise–”

“Hey! I don’t need to hear about that!” You yelp, covering your ears with both hands.

Dazai lets out a dramatic burst of laughter. “You’re not giving me much to work with here, you know! I’m simply trying to make conversation with topics a girl your age would enjoy!

“Shut up,” you mutter, finally dropping your hands from your eyes, though a faint prickle of warmth that didn’t come from the coffee lingers on your face. You take another sip, it’s bitter, cheap, and definitely burnt, but it keeps the chill from settling back into your bones.

Dazai stretches his legs out under the low table, leaning back against the wall with a lazy sigh. “Well, since you clearly live under a rock and have nothing interesting to talk about, how about you choose something to watch?” he grabs the small television remote from the table and lightly tosses it into your lap.

“Go ahead,” he hums, gesturing towards the TV in the corner of the room. “Find something utterly mindless to watch. And you can’t watch the news, just a heads up.”

You stare down at the remote in your lap, and not a single channel or TV show comes to mind. “Dazai-nii,” your voice drops to a hesitant whisper. You looked up at him, he had that dumb grin on his face again, clearly amused at the nickname. “I…I don’t know what to watch, actually. Other than the news…”

The confession came out heavier than expected. When Dazai had mentioned skincare earlier, or trendy drinks, your mind had gone entirely blank. You knew the exact weight and recoil of a pistol. You knew how to analyze an enemy’s blind spot in under ten seconds. But you didn’t know a single popular song, what TV shows were trending, and you had absolutely no idea what normal teenage girls did when they had free time.

Mori had hollowed you out so thoroughly that there was no room left for a childhood.

Dazai didn’t look pitying—thankfully—but he looked at you with a profound, quiet, understanding that made your throat dry. Even if he had that dumb grin on his face. “Well, it’s a good thing you have an incredibly cultured older brother to guide you,” he said as he clicked the power button, and the television flickered. “Let’s see…you know, my co-worker, Dr. Yosano, she watches this show on channel 5. Wanna give it a shot?”

You gave him a nod, and he flipped through the channels until a cheesy, dramatic romance show appeared on the screen. It was about two spies from different organizations falling in love. “this is ridiculous. Who has time to talk like that on duty?”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re missing the point entirely! You’re supposed to complain about how dramatic they’re being. Look at his hair—it’s completely unbothered by the rain. Truly, a supernatural ability.” Dazai bursts out, then looks at you. “Now, your turn.”

You blinked, shifting your gaze from the screen to Dazai, then back at the screen. “His…his coat looks cheap,” you murmured, testing the words on your tongue. It sounded so awfully girly, you weren’t used to it. “The fabric would absorb water too quickly and…slow down his retreat?”

“Exactly! That’s what you complain about!” Dazai cheered, scooching over closer.

For the next hour, Dazai taught you how to do completely useless things. All the stereotypical teenage things you never got to experience for yourself were taught in the span of 2 hours. For the first time in your life, you weren’t doing things for the sake of efficiency, simply having fun. Leisure. But even as you were having fun, the sheer exhaustion finally caught up to you. Your eyelids grew heavy, trembling as you tried to keep them open. Your head began to loll forward, your shoulders slumping.

“Hey,” Dazai’s voice came through. “You look like you’re listening to some hard core rock music with how your head is moving.” His voice was soft, devoid of any playfulness. “You don’t have to fight it, you can take a nap, you know.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that you were an executive, not a little kid who needed naps, but your body refused to over. Slowly, your head tilted sideways, coming to rest against his shoulder.

He didn’t pull away. This was his goal, after all. To let you rest.

Dazai would never admit it out loud, it was too sentimental for his dramatic flair, but he felt quite proud of himself today. Back then, he had thought that people like him could never be comforted, but today, he has proven himself wrong, because he comforted you. He knows that he could never bring true peace to you, but he was glad he gave you a tentative comfort. Even if it was just for today.

Even as you sleep, images of your crimes run through your mind. Even with eyes closed, you could still see it all clearly. All those you’ve mercilessly killed without a second thought, blindly following orders and being praised for it haunted you. You woke up abruptly, a thin sheen of cold sweat over your forehead. Your chest was heaving, and your hands were shaking, but you were safe.

Looking at your surroundings, Dazai seemed to have transferred you to his room to rest properly. You stood up, swaying slightly from the sleepy daze, and saw him still in the living room. “Dazai-nii…”

“There you are! You were pretty knocked out, weren’t you?” He smiles, gaze going back to the television screen.

“I…have to go. I have to go back—”

“So soon? I was hoping you’d stay for dinner, at least! What would I do if I sent you home with a hungry stomach!?”

“I’ll eat something…I just need to go back. It’s…unusual for me to be out of the office at these hours. Some might get suspicious.”

You grabbed your clothes from earlier today, hung over an arm chair and changed in the bathroom. You dreaded going back to headquarters, but it really was unusual for you to be away from your office this time in the evening.

Dazai escorts you outside of the dorms, it was already dark out, the sun barely peeking over the horizon.

“Dazai-nii, thank you for today. I had…lots of fun.” You give him a polite nod. Though your words were simple and plain, Dazai was relieved to hear that you had fun, that for one day, you escaped your responsibilities.

As you started to walk away, Dazai called out for you. “Y/N!”

You paused, turned your back.

“That boy I was talking about earlier, the one who found light,” He starts, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

“Hm? What about him?”

“...He really found it. And I truly believe that you can too. Just keep hanging on, okay?” His eyes shone with a profound, genuine seriousness.

“Okay, Dazai-nii.”

For some reason, you walked back to headquarters feeling lighter.

© — hopleii

Softly yet with swift feet two wolves ran through the deep snow, following the orders of Kratos as he held their reins. Despite the sound of the moving sled the world was rather quiet; almost too quiet.

The constant snow of Fimbulwinter had finally ceased, though that wasn't the end of the snowy landscape. It would take many summers to thaw the sheets of ice that had been created, not to mention how fleeting those summers were, soon replaced by familiar cold again.

It was times like these, traveling around the expanses of the realms in utter silence, that he began to miss his son. To miss his questions, to miss the stories Mimir and him would tell. For the first time in a very long time he found himself uncomfortable in the silence. So uncomfortable in fact that he almost went to ask Mimir for a story, though thought better of it. Mimir had done enough of that over the past few days with the Midguardian children he had been entertaining. He was sure that the man had to be tired of speaking by now-

"So brother, how's the new title been treatin' ya? God of the people and all that" the head that lay in the sled asked. The question caught the quiet god off guard, though he answered after only a moment. He hated the silence.

"They talk a lot" was all he could comment, earning a chuckle from Mimir.

"Or perhaps you talk too little" Mimir pondered back, earning a grunt in response.

"I do not intend to change that" he spoke as his eyes turned to look around the environment, always searching for any possible danger ahead.

Instead his eyes froze on a figure on the ice, all too noticeable against the pure white snow. Seeing as the scene was out of the ordinary he turned his sled towards it, approaching whomever the figure was.

"Course not. Wouldn't expect-...where ya headin' lad?" Mimir asked, quickly noticing the strange change in direction. Kratos didn't speak for a moment, his eyes narrowing to try and see who the figure might be, but still being too far out.

"There is someone on the ice" he responded with a quiet grumble as he approached. The closer he got the more he slowed, taking caution with whoever might be on the snow. Or, more accurately, what might have caused their collapsed state. Only once he was a few feet out that he realized the person slumped held the features of a human. Getting even closer allowed him to notice that they were a child. He sped a little faster towards the end seeing as the situation grew quite a bit grimmer at the realization. Noticing this sudden hastiness Mimir spoke up again.

"What is it brother!" He called out, only to once again receive no response from Kratos who quickly stopped the sled before immediately stepping off of it. He moved just as swiftly to the limp body, only a few steps between. A dread fell in the air, Mimirs worried yells blurring into the sound of the wind.

It was a sight no person would ever wish to see, let alone one who had a child of their own. Yet it was a sight so horribly familiar for the scarred man. The tiny hands frozen in a grasp, the eyes shut in a disturbing calm. He quickly pushed those thoughts away though, instead kneeling to the ground beside the child, his eyes holding a darker look as he stared.

He had at first thought them dead. He had known the ice to preserve bodies long after their deaths and it wasn't entirely uncommon to find the ice melting to reveal hidden corpses. However that wasn't the case here, especially once he noticed the ragged yet still visible rise and fall of the child's chest. The instant he noticed he flew into action, picking up the abandoned child and bringing them back to the sled, laying them in a seat beside him as he sat back at the reins.

"What in the bloody- who-"

"It is a child. They are still alive" he finally answered Mimir before immediately mushing the wolves along.

-

Heavy. Every bone in your body, every ounce of blood running through your veins. It felt as if every force imaginable pulled you to the earth. After a long enough time held in the silent void, you began to finally push against it. The first few attempts were incredibly difficult and after the third try you began to wonder if it was pointless. It was then though that you began to feel your tongue in your mouth, and the heaviness of the air that made it to your chest. Confused and fearful you tried to call out to the void. But your tongue might as well have been made of metal with how near impossible it was to bend to make coherent sounds. The only noise to leave your lips was a half attempt at a groan. Realizing this your fear grew as you tried, in blind panic, to move anything, to do so much as speak a word. You felt your body adjust slightly, but nothing besides that.

"Shhh shhh. It's alright child" a voice called. You stopped your attempts upon hearing it, confusion flooding through you. The voice was soft and feminine, almost motherly, its tone not of any malice or anger. You felt the touch of a hand on your head; warm and comforting. The strange new presence was calming despite you not even fully understanding it. So you leaned into the hand, seeking more of that comforting feeling.

"It's alright. Rest now" the voice called again. Lulled by its words you stopped pushing against the strange heaviness, allowing your breath to slow and your body to relax, your mind leaving not long after.

Freya felt a smile cross her lips, as melancholy as it felt, as she stared down at the sleeping child. Her hand still held gently to their face as she carefully brushed her thumb against their cheek. She had learned after quite a while of their sounds that they seemed to calm their whining under her touch.

Only after they seemed to have fallen back to sleep did she stand once more, even if every fiber of her being called her back into their presence.

"Are they well?" the familiar voice of Kratos spoke behind her. She didn't jump as she had many times before, having grown used to his sudden appearances. She instead stood and went back to mixing her medicine, knowing that the child would need it upon waking.

"I managed to save their life," she quickly answered as her look grew grim once more, her eyes glancing back at the child that lay sleeping on the table.

"But not without a few consequences" she finished her words with an undertone of agitation, clearly unhappy with the outcome.

The wood of the floor creaked under the heavy foot of Kratos as he stepped closer. His eyes didn't stray from the child for even a second until he took a spot next to Freya.

"And what might those be?" Mimir asked. Upon hearing him speak Kratos removed him from his belt and placed him on the table so that he could more easily speak to them. Freya glanced up at him but seemed far more focused on grinding down the seeds in her bowl.

"I was unable to save three of their fingers, they were far too frostbitten. And while they remain asleep now, they are restless. The spell I used to save their life has some painful after-effects. Which is why we needed these," she motioned to her bowl as her movements became a little more aggressive, though not enough to warrant stopping her.

"Consequences are a given. They are lucky to live" Kratos spoke in some sort of attempt to calm her as he outstretched the final herbs she would need. She turned to meet his eye, her stare dark and burning. He didn't flinch. He didn't even stop staring at her. After a long moment she shook her head, taking the herb from him and continuing her task.

"You're lucky I even returned to this place" she mumbled with a slight sneer.

Silence reigned in a long pause, though that wasn't necessarily uncommon for them. After a few minutes though he left her side, instead turning his attention to the child in the bed. He hesitated, unsure if he should so much as go near the fragile being. Nevertheless, his concern soon pulled him forward and he approached the sleeping kid.

The first thing he noticed was the scars. Littered across their face in noticeable slashes and burns was a history he didn't yet know, but it was all but pretty. His eyes glanced back to Freya when he noticed this, wondering if this was what had her so on edge. Seeing a child with such harm done to them surely wasn't something she was comfortable with.

"The child...they hold many scars" he mentioned, her body tensing at his words.

"I noticed that" she replied, her hands further busying themselves. He was going to turn back to the child, hoping to maybe find some clue as to how they ended up on the ice of Midgard when Freya spoke again.

"They're Aesir" She commented, finally stopping her work to turn to him. He quickly turned his attention to her, his already hardened look narrowing at the comment.

"How did you learn this?" He asked, to which she nodded towards a nearby chair that held the outfit you had been wearing earlier. As torn as it was, Freya knew the design all too well.

"Their clothes. You only find quality like that with Aesir gods. Or at least, that was the case," she elaborated, taking the small bowl in her hand and bringing it to the fire. Mimir, having stayed quiet for a long while now as he clearly felt the tension in the room, finally decided to speak once again.

"Aesir gods? Are you sayin' the wee one's part of the Aesir?" He questioned, Freya nodding along with the words.

"Yes. That or they were somehow involved with them. I hadn't heard any mention of any Aesir gods having children before Ragnarök though. They usually make new family a big deal" Freya's agitation grew more clear the longer she talked, the venom of her words palpable. Both Kratos and Mimir thought on the words for a minute, unsure what any of this could mean. Freya poured her solution into the metal pot above the fire before beginning to mix it in.

"Should we speak to Sif about this?" Kratos suggested, the question giving Freya a slight pause before she shook her head.

"No. She's far too busy. Besides, she was always more concerned with her family than the matters of the Aesir. She wouldn't know" Freya continued her mixing, the two further thinking on the strangeness of the situation.

"Well if they're really part of the Aesir I'm sure she's bound ta have a clue at least. Wouldn't hurt ta talk to her," Mimir pushed, not letting the idea go. The room was quiet for a moment as Freya thought it over. After mixing a little longer she finally responded.

"Sure, she might know...but she isn't going to enjoy the intrusion" she reiterated as she took the pot from the flames, placing it on a metal rack to cool. Turning back to the two of them Freya's features held clear skepticism. She didn't seem to like the idea and the two of them were quickly picking that up.

"Well it seems like our best shot at finding the wee one's parents. I don' think we got much else ta go on" Mimir continued trying to convince her. Freya's eyes strayed from him, glancing back at the child that lay silently before looking back to the two.

"The last time I saw someone try to talk to Sif she nearly pulled their head off for getting in the way of her work. She's consumed with trying to rebuild her home and keeping the peace between the Aesir and the Vanier. Not to mention trying to keep Thrúd out of trouble. She's been a wreck since...well you both already know" Freya continued to explain her reasons for her hesitance. Yet even the thought of being attacked by Sif didn't drive Mimir away from his stance.

"But you two were friends weren't you? Surely she wouldn't be too harsh with ya, 'specially considerin' you're Vanir...worst-case scenario she just sends ya on your way-" Mimir's words suddenly stopped when a strange sound covered the room, causing Freya's eyes to widen as she quickly moved. Confused, Kratos turned to see the child.

Their eyebrows knitted as they tossed and turned in their spot, groaning in some sort of pain. It was only seconds later that Freya was at their side, trying to calm the clearly upset child with sweet shushes and comforting touches. A few seconds later the sounds stopped and the child found rest once more. She remained staring for a moment longer before finally turning over her shoulder to the two, both of them now very aware of her true reason for hesitance. The sudden silence made her aware of their knowing and, with a sigh, she stood.

"The child is still in need of help. They're going to be sick for a while. Finding their parents isn't a priority right now." She conveyed with a truer tone than before, her face twisted in concern. A bit of hesitance lingered, the two realizing the extent of Freya's concerns. After a while, Mimir finally spoke.

"Well I suppose you're right...but we can't put it off for too long. Their parents are probably worried sick" Mimir finally relented and Kratos agreed with a hum. Freya seemed to calm a little as they agreed.

"Would you wish for us to stay?" Kratos asked. The words seemed to catch Freya a little off guard, but she soon nodded.

"It would be best. I have business with the Valkyries in the morning" she agreed. Kratos gave a nod, knowing he had nothing else planned for the day anyway.

-

You were here again. The darkness, the numbness, the heavy weight. But something felt...different this time. The air that flowed through your lungs felt lighter, your body not as held in place. Noticing this you once again tried to fight against the pull of this unknown force and find yourself outside of this strange purgatory, to finally make some sort of full movement. And, to your utter surprise, you moved your arm.

It was then that a searing pain shot through your body, radiating from the core of your very being and singeing every nerve you had. You shot up, your eyes opening fully as you instantly began to scream in utter agony. Despite your eyes being open you could hardly begin to understand anything that was going on as you cried out, your balance shifting and your muscles stiff. You didn't hear the frantic footsteps, nor did you feel the pull of hands on you, gently grabbing and tugging to move you. You had no energy to stop them even if you did, your body feeling as weak as it had when you fell to the ice. Your mind could do nothing but focus on that pain, that white radiating feeling of suffering.

Something was raised to your lips and you once again didn't fight, not even as the warm liquid began to fall down your throat. Your body's instincts kicked in long enough to stop your crying and drink whatever this was without choking. After a few moments your adrenaline had pumped enough to allow your arms to push away whatever it was. Your head shook as the disgusting taste overtook your tongue. You went into a coughing fit not even a second after as you tried to rid yourself of that horrible taste. Suddenly though the pain racking through your body began to melt away, numbing in slow waves. As it did the world around you began to come into view along with the other sensations of the world. Such as the rolling tears down your face, the comfortable warmth against your skin, and your quick breaths that you tried rather poorly to calm. The next thing you felt was something rubbing slow circles on your back before whispered words met your ears.

"Shh shhh, It's alright child" a voice softly shushed, now allowing you to fully recognize the presence of someone else beside you. The instant you did your fluttering heart nearly stopped, your body quickly shifting in an attempt to get away, nearly falling off of whatever you were on as you did. Their hands grabbed you and your eyes tightly shut as they did, afraid of what they might do.

You were gently pulled back into your previous spot before the hands left you entirely. Slowly opening your eyes once more you came face to face with an utter stranger.

"Are you alright?" The strange woman asked. You stared silently at her, unsure of anything that was happening. You had remembered falling into the cold snow, tired and weak and now you were here...

Where was here exactly? And who was this stranger? And why did everything hurt so bad? Nothing made sense to you. So you gave no answer.

The lack of answer seemed to upset the woman, if only slightly. She continued to stare at you for a moment longer before.

BAM!

The sound immideatly frightened you and seemingly the woman as well. Your body flinched away and this time, without the woman's help, you fell. You didn't seem to stop once you'd fallen, using what little strength you had to shakingly try and stand. You made it only a few steps before you fell once more. You quickly turned around to face the sound, scooting away as you did so. You then found yourself locking eyes with a terrifying man.

Tall and scarred with eyes the color of a blazing fire. He wielded an ax that looked sharp enough to cut through bone and an all too eye-catching bright red tattoo that swirled around the left of his body.

Even more terrified than before you quickened your attempt to scoot away, hoping that the distance would keep you from him. Suddenly his eyes turned from you and towards the woman. You didn't dare turn your eyes from him though.

"I heard screaming" the man spoke, the sound deep enough to almost be physically felt. The woman quickly regained her composure as she stood and stared at the man with no fear in her stature.

"I told you there would be consequences" she reiterated, soon standing from her spot and quickly approaching you. You continued to back away but it wasn't long until you ran out of space, your back hitting a wall and panic consuming you.

"It's alright. We aren't going to hurt you" she spoke, trying to comfort you. It didn't seem to help as she continued to step closer. She stopped her movements upon noticing her approach was what was further frightening you. She didn't really know what to do at this point, something that showed in her hesitant stare and uncertain movements.

You, however, weren't paying attention to that. You were instead trying to figure out what was going on, trying to remember how you had gotten here, or maybe if you somehow knew these people-

A short glimpse at your hands froze every previous thought and motion, your eyes widening further as you realized a few of your fingers were missing. You felt your breath leave you, dread and terror consuming you as absolute shock ran through your system.

What happened to your hands?

Everything became a blurred mess, nothing made sense. Utterly overwhelmed and at a complete loss, you fainted.

Freya moved towards you the instant you went out, her worry apparent. Kratos stared at this scene with very little to add other than concern and confusion, which he kept rather hidden in his usual silence. Freya quickly returned you to your previous spot before letting out a held breath. Kratos finally moved, soon taking a spot next to Freya.

"What happened?" He asked as he glanced to the child.

"They woke up sooner than they were supposed to. The spell hadn't been able to fully settle. I thought it might happen, which is why I made that medicine earlier. I hadn't expected them to be up this though" Freya explained as she sat down.

Looking at her closely it was clear to see that she was beyond tired. From the slow movements to the quiet speech. The stress of this unexpected task was starting to get to her, which was all but a good sign. Yet the quiet remained, and the silence was all but comforting now.

Silence. It was always so quiet now. Too quiet. Too still.

"You should rest" Kratos finally spoke, her eyes snapping to him at the request. She was dumbfounded to find a serious look on his face, despite knowing full well that he never said anything he didn't mean.

"I-...This child is going to wake up again-"

"And I will handle it" he quickly answered back. She was further baffled by his commitment to his statement as she began to wonder if he had seen what she had.

"Kratos I can't just leave a sick child! What if the medicine wears?! Or- Or they panic again-"

"I will handle it" Kratos once again stood by his words, though there was a difference in it this time. Freya couldn't quite pin down the new strange quality to his tone. Determination? Worry? She didn't quite know. Either way, it instilled a lot more confidence in his capability. He seemed to think he could do this and she had no reason to doubt his assessment of his abilities. So, with another cautious stare, she slowly stood back up.

"Alright...but I will be checking back in the morning." She prefaced to which she earned nothing more than a nod of acknowledgment from him. With that she left for bed, too tired to argue further.

-

Slowly but surely your body began pushing you from sleep once again. Though, unlike your previous attempts, you no longer felt held down by unknown forces. In fact you couldn't feel anything other than a mild sting rushing through your body.

Despite being awake you didn't move for a few moments, almost afraid to do so. However your other bodily functions began to overcome that, such as hunger and thirst, so you eventually forced your eyes open. It seemed almost impossible but they did eventually open.

The world that met you was strange. Warm and dim yet not dark. Light poured gently through the windows, though it wasn't bright. It held a hue of early morning blue, a color that only barely lulled the dread growing within you.

You began to slowly sit up, your world falling blurry before slowly coming back into focus. Once it did you tried to take some deep breaths, hoping to escape the nervousness that grew upon realizing you had no clue where you were.

You hardly had time to do that though as your senses were filled with an absolutely mouthwatering smell. One that caused you to instantly salivate as your stomach rumbled. You tried to think about how long it had been since you had last eaten but instead found your memories quite jumbled. Your brain could barely focus on thinking when you felt nothing but hunger pull at you.

In fact, that hunger seemed to outweigh the nervousness coursing through you as you found yourself willing to stand to follow the smell. You hesitated for a short moment, part of you realizing you had no clue what was going on. But that soon left your mind as well. Everything left but a need to eat.

You were starving.

So you stood anyway, your legs wobbling as you barely caught yourself on a nearby chair. You stabilized yourself, taking breaths as you gained some strength in your legs. This part was never easy, but you weren't unfamiliar with it. Of holding on to something just to stand, of feeling weakness and exhaustion trying to pull you to the ground once more. But you shoved the weakness away. You shoved it deep down and buried it.

This wasn't a world for the weak.

You carefully let go of the chair, shoving away the fragility of your body as you tried to walk. You drifted with each step, almost losing your balance a few times as you did, but you walked all the same. Slowly you made your way closer and closer but abruptly stopped when the only thing that could override your hunger set it.

Fear

Why did the sudden fear rack through you? Well it might just have something to do with the truly terrifying man you saw mixing the source of the smell. Tall, scarred, and with a scowl that brought up more than a few bad memories. You ducked, quickly hiding behind whatever was closest to you.

Unfortunately your swiftness cost stealth, as seen by a cup you managed to knock over upon hiding behind a small table. The man promptly looked up from the pot, his bright amber eyes staring squarely in your direction. He stared for a short time before glancing at where you had once been laying. After that the harsh stare in his eyes calmed and he looked back to his food.

You had thought you had sufficiently hid yourself for a moment, though his voice quickly shot down that idea.

"You should be resting," he spoke, his voice more than matching his face. Gruff and deep with an almost damaged sense to it. As if used and worn over years.

Terror struck back through you like a lightning bolt as you froze. Silence reigned for a long while, the only sounds being him tending to the food. After a moment he moved the pot to which you quickly backed up in response.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, his voice slightly softer than just a second ago. His words greatly piqued your interest, so much so that you almost instinctively responded. Yet you stopped yourself, knowing that this situation could very well be dangerous. So you chose silence once more and hoped that by doing so he might just act as if you had disappeared

Such a thing would never happen of course, but your child-like mind allowed you to believe so.

Your silence didn't seem to bother him. Or more so his features didn't turn any scarier than they already were. He merely continued his actions unbothered by your presence as he grabbed a bowl and dealt out some of the food he had made.

His disregard confused you slightly. It was enough to dull your fear with a hint of deadly curiosity which in turn allowed your hunger to once again overtake them both. Your eyes glued to the bowl he was making as he continued not to look at you, instead putting the pot back over the fire. Afterward he walked away in a direction opposite to you.

"If you will not rest then you should eat," he voiced as he walked, soon leaving your vision altogether. You could still hear him, his large size not allowing for much of any quiet as he walked. He was far enough away now though that you felt safe to leave your hiding spot, even if you did so rather slowly. After peeking just a bit to make sure he wasn't anywhere near, you began to walk. You did so with very little grace, something anyone near was sure to hear as you stumbled into more than a few objects, but you did eventually make it to the table with food. You peeked out again, spotting him with his back turned as he focused on something else. With your eyes held on him for any sudden movements and your stomach practically begging for whatever was in the bowl, you climbed your way onto a chair. You had to sit on your knees just to reach the table, but that didn't bother you too much.

You stared at him a moment longer, as if waiting for him to turn and attack. When he didn't you reached for the spoon.

It was then that you were very swiftly and very horrifically reminded of your injuries from earlier. Wrapped in stained red bandages was the stump of what was supposed to be your middle finger. Looking to the other hand you found your index and pinky finger missing. Your throat tightened as you looked at the wounds, the terror of your current situation hitting you once more. What was weirder was the lack of pain as you looked at it. It felt almost entirely unreal, the shock of your body almost allowing you to believe that it truly was.

Despite the horrifying new sight and with truely no idea what you were supposed to do in this situation, you chose to ignore it. Because that's all you had been trained to do, that's the only recourse you had. To ignore it until it stopped, if it ever did.

You instead chose to focus on eating the meal, knowing that it could very well be the only one you eat for a long while. You cherished every bite as if you had never eaten a day in your life. You had been so hungry. So incredibly and indescribably hungry.

"Are you in any pain?" The man asked, slightly startling you from your meal. He didn't turn to look at you as he spoke, still busy with what he was doing. You found it almost comforting that he did so since it would allow you more time to get away if need be. Overtaken by the food, his vulnerable stance, and the overwhelming realization that your silence could potentially annoy and even possibly anger him, you decided to finally speak.

"No" was all you could really say, your voice frail and almost whisper-like. If it weren't for the silence it might even not have been heard. In response he gave a simple 'hm' and let you get back to eating.

Before you knew it the bowl was empty. As far as you were concerned you could have had ten more. Still, you weren't about to ask for anything more. That was the most food you'd had in months, you weren't about to push it.

Finally he turned to you, his movement immediately catching your eye. This time though since he was no longer hidden behind something he was able to make direct eye contact with you. To your dismay, it seemed to be something he had no problem doing. You, however, shrunk under the unmistakable power of his gaze.

"You need your bandages replaced" he commented, your eyes glancing at the bloodied bandages for only a split second before turning back to him. You quickly noticed the bandages he held in his hands and soon got what he was trying to say. You struggled to swallow with the sudden dryness of your throat, but you knew there was no other answer you could give that wouldn't have the potential to upset him. So you gave a slow and reluctant nod.

He then walked back over to the table, your heart beating ten times for every one of his slow steps. Once he was close he kneeled on the ground in front of you. You leaned away, your eyes fixated on every small movement he made, waiting for any of them to be suddenly violent. He remained slow and purposeful.

Once he was ready he held out his hand to you. As slow as the movement was, you still flinched. After realizing the gesture was harmless you calmed slightly, though you remained very significantly on edge.

You didn't move for a minute longer, waiting for an anger that never came. When silence was left and his features didn't falter from their calm yet intense stare, you finally held out your hand for him to bandage. And, to your relief, it hadn't been a trick to trap you as he did in fact move to re-bandage your wounds.

Your eyes avoided him entirely as he worked. You didn't know this stranger, nor what he wanted. So you were keen on keeping your edge of paranoia for the time being. Even though his help and silence calmed you down quite a lot.

He had only helped you thus far, but you knew better than to trust that.

"Do you have a name?" He asked, suddenly breaking the silence. You shrunk away at his voice, though with him wrapping your hands you weren't able to go too far. You once again calmed rather quickly, though your jumpiness was becoming very apparent.

Afraid that he might become upset with your silence you responded.

"Y/n'' you spoke, though the hesitance in telling him such a thing was very noticeable in the way the name paused slightly on your tongue. He nodded, another 'hm' leaving. Silence continued again, circling suffocatingly around the room. And suddenly thoughts plagued your mind. Questions of your own formed in your head and terrified you to the core. Questions that, being only a child, were bound to spill out.

"Where am I?" You finally asked your own question, though as you did the pure reality of what that question meant fell onto you as your voice cracked and tears unwillingly began to form. Where were you? What happened? Why were you hurt? You just wanted to go home, just be home- just home, just home, home, home-

A hand landed on your shoulder, snapping you back to reality almost immediately. Only then did you notice the wet trails that fell down your cheeks and the hiccups you tried and failed to hold back. However, you were more focused on the sudden contact, your head popping up to look at the hand before turning to the man in front of you. You had expected anger, maybe even a violent glint in his eyes. You were instead surprised to find the opposite written on his face. Soft and concerned, the intensity once held in them now fully calmed. It shocked you to see as the expression so foreign to you. Oddly enough though it did greatly calm you to his presence. It was a look you very rarely ever saw, let alone from someone you had initially thought of as utterly terrifying. No words were exchanged as your tears stopped and your breathing slowed again. You quickly went to wipe away the tears before looking away from him again.

"Sorry," Was all you could think to say. It got yet another hum from him, though you couldn't quite decipher what it meant this time. He removed his hand from your shoulder before speaking.

"You should rest. We can talk more when you are well" he spoke, though you more easily noticed the softness in it than before. You nodded, not looking to disagree with the stranger. So you tried to stand again, knowing you would have to walk back to the bed. You barely took a step when your body began to give out once more, your weight leaned more onto the chair than your legs. He quickly noticed this and, before you could make any protest, you were no longer on the ground.

You yelped at the sudden action, freezing as you quickly covered your head. It was only a few moments later, after a few of his heavy steps, that you were gently placed back down. Once his contact ceased you began to slowly open your eyes again, realizing that he had inflicted no pain. Suddenly you felt the warmth of a blanket placed on top of you as he had picked it up from where you had dropped it onto the floor. The comfort of it along with the warmth of everything around you and your full stomach began to make you feel the heavy weight of your eyelids as you fought to keep them open.