Little Mx "I Don't Have A Favourite"

Your days blurred into one another to the point you couldn’t tell day apart from night; sunset apart from sunrise. There was no one to keep you company, nothing to keep you entertained, nothing for you to return to and nothing to keep you here besides your parents’ threatening words.

It was then that, having grown tired of everything, you left your room and slipped under the covers of the night sky where no one would be able to find you unless you wished them to. But even out here, not a single soul was in sight.

With a sigh, you leaned against a tree; slowly sliding down until you were sitting on the ground. You could’ve sworn that these gardens were filled with people— other kids that you could play with until sunset or your mother dragged you back into your room by your ear.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? All that happened years, even decades ago. Of course no one would be around to entertain you now; not when everyone had gone and grown up without you. Baochai, Pan, and even that annoying Yihua… Your heart ached, knowing that you’d never spend time with them again, or talk to them, or even see them.

Was this how the rest of your life would go? Lamenting over your past as your present self continued to rot alive in their room? Where no one would be able to find them?

You were unsatisfied with your life as is, but coming out here for the first time in years only—

Crack.

Your body tensed immediately at the sound before you hastily stood up from your spot and looked around.

What was that sound? You didn’t see a single soul while you were on your way here and you certainly didn’t see anyone while you were here, otherwise you wouldn’t have lamented over how lonely you were. So what was that sound?

Looking around certainly didn’t yield any answers either, not when everything was so dark and the moonlight barely illuminated anything. That, or maybe you hallucinated the sound with how lonely you were. You certainly wouldn't put it above yourself if you—

Snap.

—Nope, it wasn’t a hallucination, not in the slightest.

You looked around once more to locate where the sound came from only to no avail. That was bad news, really bad news. It could just be an animal but you weren’t stupid enough to risk it and took off immediately.

Only for a hand to clamp on your mouth before being pulled back against a chest. A beastly smell washed over you as you let out a muffled cry and struggled against your captor who didn’t seem to find it difficult to hold you against them. It didn’t take long for the scent of bloodshed to waft and mix in with their scent either.

“You are… from the Shi Family,” they— rather, she noted as you kept struggling in her arms. Her voice was surprisingly soft, maybe even soothing if she wasn’t threatening your life right now. “I do not recall him talking about anyone from the Shi Family, only the Xue Family.”

What was that supposed to mean? How did she even know that you were from the Shi Family? Maybe she recognised you, but… no, that wasn’t possible. You hadn’t been allowed to leave your room ever since that day and it was only today that you snuck out against your parents’ wishes. There was no way for her to recognise you.

Your body grew tired before long. That seemed to be what she was waiting for because only when you stopped struggling did she make her move; moving her hands so one on your back and the other under your knees before she picked you up.

“My Lord requested that I be gentle with you,” she began before you could question her on her actions, “however, he has also given me permission to deal with whatever trouble you cause me as I please. I ask of you to behave so that you may remain unharmed.”

A part of you wanted to keep struggling and even scream for help now that she wasn’t covering your mouth, as she had just made a really dumb move by choosing to carry you like you were some kind of damsel in distress instead of dragging you towards wherever her lord was.

But on the other hand… Was there even anyone around to come help you if you did scream for help? There was no one around and considering the scent of blood on her, it was a safe bet to say that no one would ever come to save you.

“…Okay,” you reluctantly agreed.

That seemed to be what she was waiting for as only then did she start carrying you towards wherever her lord resided with a steady yet fast pace.

Her footsteps didn’t make a single sound, it was no wonder then that you didn’t notice her sneaking up on you— well, not until she stepped on a branch twice but that was besides the point. Where there others like her then? Stalking around Daguanyuan and looking for people to kidnap or even kill…

Was that why this place felt so empty?

“My Lord,” your captor piped up as she came to a stop and placed you back on the ground, “I have brought them.”

He hummed in response, turning back to look at her to make sure she wasn’t lying to him before smiling. “Thank you, Miss Faust. Now leave us be~”

She didn’t hesitate, leaving you alone with him in less than a second. What came after was silence; one that likely meant that he was analysing you top to bottom for a second time, something that you couldn’t do to him as you could barely make out his expression through the darkness.

Before long, his expression softened as he took a step towards you. “There you are,” he muttered, not giving you the chance to back away as his hands came up to cup your cheeks; the action followed by a soft thud as something fell onto the ground. “So this is where you have been.”

Not knowing what to say or if you should even be saying something, you opted to stay silent. He seemed to take it as encouragement to continue what he was doing, his fingers gently playing with your cheeks as he lightly pulled and pushed at the skin.

“Have you been waiting for me all this time, hm?”

…Oookay so, as dangerous as this thought was, maybe you should tell him that you weren’t the person that he thought you were? He talked as if the two of you knew each other long ago, and yet you didn’t recognize his face at all despite the darkness making it difficult for you to tell. Besides, you certainly would’ve recognized his voice if you did know about him.

There was also the fact that your captor — Miss Faust, was it? — sounded surprised when she saw that you were from the Shi Family, which had to mean that this…lord, whoever he was, must have confused you for someone else.

With all that said, you had no intention of pretending to be someone that you were not nor were you interested in suffering a worse fate just because you wanted to live a moment longer and kept quiet about something you shouldn’t have.

And if you died right now… well, that’d certainly send a great message to your parents.

“I’m not them,” you said, making him abruptly stop fondling your cheeks. “Whoever you were looking for, I’m not them.”

He didn’t reply, not at first. He stared at you with a blank expression, his slightly parted lips being the only giveaway to his confusion. “…Excuse me?”

Oh you were definitely done for.

“I don’t know you,” you continued, “I don’t recognize you, I’ve never met you before in my life. So I don’t think that I’m—”

His lips crashed down onto yours.

A small sound escaped you before you struggled to pull back, something that he saw as an opportunity to push his tongue past your lips. He brought one hand down to your waist and pulled you closer than you already were so your body was completely pressed up against his.

Only when he thought he had his fill did he pull away, the corner of his lips quirking up into smirk as he licked up the string of saliva connecting your mouths. “Recognize that kiss then~?”

What a fucking asshole.

“Of course not??” you squeaked out, desperately pushing at his chest to separate your bodies to no avail. “Who even does that?? ‘Recognize this kiss?’ You’re lucky I don’t recognize your face at all or I would’ve murdered you first and then torture your—”

His lips came crashing down on you a second time, this time landing on your cheek as he made sure to leave the messiest and sloppiest kiss ever to spite you.

“Mmmmmwah! You’re so cute when you get upset, just how I remember you~”

“Oh I’ll make sure you’re remembered as—!!”

Okay, okay, calm down, you needed to calm down. He just said that he found you cute when you got upset so he was doing all that to piss you off. If you wanted to get away or at the very least make your life easier, then you’d have to stay calm and ignore the stupid shit he was pulling at the moment.

“—Please forgive me, I let myself go for a moment there,” you said as you struggled to lower your voice.

He snorted in response.

You wondered if he’d also find the idea of your fist meeting his face funny— no no calm down, calm down.

“Just… why not tell me your name instead of doing that? I’m sure that would’ve helped me a lot more than… k- kissing me has.”

“That’s because I wanted to kiss you—” Oh you were going to kill this fucking prick so fucking bad! “—Jia Baoyu. My name is Jia Baoyu. Does it sound familiar?”

Jia Baoyu… Of course that name sounded familiar. “The precious gem of the Jia family or whatever, of course I recognize it. I’d have to be from another Wing— no, I’d have to have lived my entire life within the Outskirts to not recognize that name, but even then I would’ve surely heard of it.”

You thought he’d smirk in response, that he’d boast about how important he was and how you’d have to serve him through the rest of your life lest you wanted misfortune upon misfortune to fall upon you. Maybe even kiss you another time, this time taking things a step further just because he could and that you looked cute during it.

But instead, you saw his expression falter. “That name…?” you heard him mutter under his breath. He looked surprisingly, genuinely devastated by your answer.

Which, good, he should be upset. Fucking asshole. But it made you wonder if there was more to this situation than you realized.

He cupped both of your cheeks once more, the look in his eyes — especially when they were so close to your own — were undeniably that of sadness. “What did they do to you…?”

Did they do something to you?

“Arguably the right thing if it got you this upset!” you hissed, struggling to pull away only for him to move one hand to the back of your head and push your face straight into his chest. “H- Hey!! Let go of me already!! i told you i’m not the person you’re looking for!!!”

He kept your face against his chest, gently, affectionately caressing your cheek as he ignored your protests. The gesture was almost sweet. Almost.

“It’s okay, you’re okay…” he kept muttering. His words felt more like an attemot to comfort himself than an attempt to comfort you. “I’ll get you away from this place then help you remember. You’re okay, you’re okay…”

It was a little funny how fast he had gone from arrogant to sad with just one answer from you. However his behaviour certainly was… weird. The Jia Baoyu you knew — what with the way Baochai and Pan talked about him — was never this arrogant either.

Maybe it was stupid of you, but you wanted to know what happened. If that meant hanging out with this stupid prick for the rest of your life then, whatever. The answers you sought were far more important than your own life or comfort.

“Take me away then,” you reluctantly replied, feeling his grip on you tighten when you did. “I… want to know what happened, too.”

Were you making a mistake?

Undoubtedly so, but…

He tilted your face upwards so you were looking at him, the annoying smirk from before now back on his face. “I knew you were in there somewhere~” he purred, moving his hands around your body before picking you up into his arms.

You rolled your eyes. He could say and act however he wanted to, you had already seen past that arrogant mask of his.

“Now where to first, hm? Shall I bring you back to my house or the wedding venue I arranged before coming here? Or maybe you’d prefer we skip the wedding and go straight to our honeymoon~?”

Wait huh?

Huh???

Huh???????

════════════════════════════════════

It all started a year or so ago, Your lord seemed.. on edge, to put it lightly.

At first, the changes were minor enough to dismiss. He'd become distracted during the Chronicler's analoging and scarcely remained seated on his throne. Often, he'd be caught pacing the estate's halls restlessly. When spoken to, his replies were clipped and curt, or so you'd been told.

As his advisor, you knew that it was your duty to ease his burdens during these trying times. However, you felt… hesitant. An unexplainable dread overcame you whenever your Lord fell into one of these ‘moods’. It reminded you of how much he'd changed as of recently. With his ascension to the throne, both you and him became preoccupied with handling the duties that came with his new role. His responsibilities consumed nearly every waking hour, as did yours.

One such duty was extracting and organising information passed down through the anamnaworm, leaving precious little time for anything beyond work. Surely he could stand your absence for a littleeee bit, right? With your certainty wavering by the second, you clutched the doorhandle with your trembling hand—swinging it open.

The room was unsettlingly quiet, devoid of the rustling of paperwork that you had grown accustomed to. Scrolls and reports laid strewn about the wooden flooring, many still bearing unbroken seals. The incense had long since burned itself to ash, leaving only the scent of drying blood. This was.. strange. Hong Lu was never one to leave work unfinished. He laid motionless atop his blankets, overcome by lethargy. His unkempt hair pooled over his pillows as dirtied bandages laid carelessly scattered across his desk. An arm lazily draped over his face. He didn’t move an inch, as if frozen in time. If you hadn’t known any better, you'd have mistaken him for a corpse.

“…My lord?" He began to stir, offering you no verbal response.

"My lord, how have you been faring as of late..?” You took a careful step towards him.

“Terribly.” His reply came rather bluntly. “Surely even the sorriest of imbeciles could discern that much.” Nodding awkwardly, you turned to the door. (quite eager to leave)

 “Right then, I’ll go call Faust for you-”

“Stay.”

His response came immediately, almost rushed. When you had turned your head—you found his tall frame risen from the comfort of his blankets, now towering over you. He stood only a breath away, his gaze never once leaving your face. “It's an order.” His piercing gaze silenced any complaints before they could arise. 

“Fine then.. I must warn you though, I have no stories to entertain you with. I'll simply bore you with more talk of work.” To that he simply grumbled, raising his hand. For a fleeting moment, it gently reached for your cheek, ghosting over your skin before hesitating. It remained suspended in the air for a few moments before settling elsewhere. Instead he curled his rough fingers around the cuff of your wrist.

“Then I'd prefer you be silent." A faint crease formed between his thin eyebrows. "Silent but.. here. With me.” He murmured last words with a strange fondness, you'd chastise him for his display if he weren't so.. visibly weakened. “[Name],” he whispered quietly, his hand travelling to your sleeves.

“My Lord, what’s come over you?” Gently resting your hand on top of his, you tried shifting off you. “You've been acting quite unlike yourself.” But he offered you no response, pulling you against his chest abruptly. 

“Don't move so much..” his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he groggily nestled his face against your neck. A wet sensation trickled down your arm, and before you knew it, you were soaked in blood. His blood. A sickening mixture of red and black swirling around one another, pooling at your shoulder. Sighing quietly, you tried to twist yourself out of his grip, yet he wouldn't budge. If anything, he tightened his hold just to spite you. “I thought that I had ordered you not to move.” His tongue clicked in irritation, “Lest you wish to worsen the lingering pains of my eye.”

“Of course not my lord. It's just that..” you cautiously eyed your stained shoulder. "It's unprofessional for me to have-" A malicious glimmer burned in his iris, dilating in fascination.

"Unprofessional? I quite prefer seeing you like this." His eye remained fixated on the growing splotch of blood, turning darker and nauseatingly damp the longer he stared. You trembled uncomfortably, unable to stand the weight of his obsessive gaze. Rarely did he blink within those brief yet torturous minutes, the sickeningly warm stream of blood only further soiling your garments.

"M-my lord..!" a panicked whisper left your lips. "Maybe we should do something about your eye? It's clearly.. leaking."

"So it is." Hong Lu's reply remained flat, his eye trained on your quivering form.

"I'll send for a servant. Immediately."

He fell silent in response, stepping away from you (albeit hesitantly) and seating himself on the edge of his mattress. "There's no need," Again, his hollow stare followed you, this time a slight smile crept onto his pale lips. "You'll suffice." Meeting his expectant gaze, you became increasingly aware of your medical inexperience. Stood awkwardly, you clenched your robes, praying that he wouldn't catch onto your confusion.

“Well?" an obnoxious yawn left his lips. "I'm beginning to grow tired of this-”

“Please, just.. give me a second!” Rolling fresh bandages between your trembling fingers, you lightly brushed aside his bangs. A sanguine trail flowed, revealing the festering remains of his eye socket. That gaping hole was an abyss of rot and decay—a carcass of the dreams he once held dear. You found yourself to be quite taken by it, entranced even. The small bits of flesh spiked upwards, trying to reform what had already been destroyed. Much like sticks of a tarnished birdsnest.

Snapping out of your haze you immediately grew repulsed at the sight, forcing a pressure pad over it. Your first attempt at dressing his wound came undone almost immediately. The second fared slightly better; the third unravelled any prior progress. Unceremoniously, the loosened bandages slid down to his neck.

A cold silence hung over the pair of you. Sweat trickled down your brow as you nervously stepped away from him, preparing for the worst.

Instead, you were met with a pleasant surprise.

“Pfft-” His face didn’t flash with irritation or anger, instead he found amusement in your failure. “My, maybe I should've lent an ear to your suggestion. A servant would've been far more capable.” Honestly, you would've much preferred his wrath.

With a somewhat relieved sigh, your eyes narrowed at him.

“Its not as easy as it looks. If anything, why don't you try doing it yourself?” You could already feel a headache forming.

“Fuhu, but I already do~” he grinned slyly, raising the loose lines of cotton to his face.

“You see, I don't trust anyone else to dress them properly." Taking your hand in his, he began idly dressing your finger. "And you've only given me more reason to keep things that way.” You tried your best not to react to his jeers, but you could already feel your veins popping.

“Y-you..!”

“Worry not,” he interrupted you again, only further souring your mood. “Your generous lord is more than willing to teach you.” Despite his previously mocking tone, it was clear that he actually meant what he said. After all, he'd always been a good teacher. 

Wasting no time, you positioned the bandages over his eye again.

“Mm, now follow my lead.” He gently placed his hand over yours, guiding your palm to his head. His other hand fixed a pressure pad over his eye, letting you wrap the bandage around his forehead. "Lighten your grip." He murmured, his palm lightly adjusting your movements. Three times you had spun it round; before resting it underneath his ear.

Following his instructions, you directed the bandages diagonally upwards, covering his eye socket successfully. “Good.” By the final knot, the bandages rested neatly over his ruined eye. Pressing a hand to his freshly dressed wound, he tested its durability. The dressings faded to red all the same, but this time—he seemed quite pleased. Once your momentary pride had subsided, you'd found that his singular eye hadn't left yours. An uncomfortable silence settled over the chamber.

“I'll see to it that you dress my wounds regularly.” You blinked in confusion.

“My Lord, we'll both be extremely busy—”

“That was a statement, not a question. I'll take no objections.” Sulking to yourself, you nodded.

Satisfied, he returned to his earlier vegetative state. As you reached the door, the firmness of his voice brought you to a halt.

"Advisor," His expression remained neutral. "Do try to arrive earlier tomorrow."

".. Pardon?"

"You always hesitate before the doorhandle. It's a terrible habit of yours, really."

Promptly, you slammed the door shut. Unbenknownst to you, your lord's crescent lid never strayed away from it, even hours after you'd left.

════════════════════════════════════

Ever since that incident, you had only grown busier and busier, prioritising your newly assigned role. Your job was simple enough: visit the common people and report anyone trying to revolt against your lord. Supporting Hong Lu's campaign also came with several challenges; the most prominent one being your Lord's chosen method of rule. He thrived off fear and dominance, rather than establishing relations with his people. It didn't quite resonate with you. Hongyuan had only been able to prosper due to the people that lived within it. What it needs isn't mindless slaughter—but instead community. Only then can Hongyuan prosper, at least you'd like to say as much. Though, your perspective doesn't come from a place of experience. Perhaps your Lord's calculated pragmatism is far more efficient than your socialism.

On that note, your lord hardly spent time within the estate anymore. On the rare occasions that you did encounter him, his hanfu was stained with streaks of crimson—his face an eerie calm.

Tonight, your palanquin had driven you to a different region of Hongyuan, the once bustling marketplaces now silent relics of the past. All you had to do was make small talk with them, keep them in line and report them if otherwise. It shouldn't have been hard. It really shouldn't have. But nothing could've prepared you for this. 

When strolling past a secluded alleyway, a violent force had you to the ground, causing you to lose your balance. Snapping your gaze upwards, you were met with two trembling eyes peering back at you. Tearful things they were. Lost, weary and terrified. They quivered, almost protruding out of their sockets.

"P-please spare my life..!"

It shuddered, his body writhing on top of yours. "M-my family.. spare my family…!" Each breath he drew was followed by an almost contagious wail of despair. Upon closer inspection, you recognised him. A member of the Xue family, no older than you. The last, you'd suppose. 

His once vibrant shawl stained, tainted by a browning red. A deep gash rested over his stomach, whilst dust clung to his sunken face. "My wife.. my children-m—t-they're cough still waiting for me. I-I have to see them, I must..!!" He was delirious and inconsolable, unable to differentiate the distant past from the present. His family had been buried months ago, not even receiving the grace of proper burials. There was no place to grieve them, and soon—there would be no-one left to either. He was displaced, estranged with no home to return to.

But, as pitiful and convincing as this display was, it wouldn't stir you. This was simply an inevitability that would've taken place sooner or later. His family was an unfortunate, yet necessary sacrifice to pave the way for your master's rule. That's all there was to it. You couldn't afford him any pity—you just couldn't. Stories like his weren't too uncommon in Hongyuan after all, let alone the City.

It didn't take more than a swift push to shake him off. He was quite light, unnaturally so.

But that's when you noticed it.

His lower half was nowhere to be seen.

Agonising shrieks rose an octave, as he writhed and flailed in a pool of his own blood. His hysterical howling never seemed to cease. That was all he could do—continuously dampening his tattered clothing. His sanguine entrails flopped about alongside him, littering the pavement in his gore. His body twisted and contorted; flinched and flung. Each arm weakly grasping onto the pale slabs of stone. He was desperate. He'd lived, he'd loved and now, it was all coming to an end. Here, his world would disappear forever.

His voice grew hoarse, gasping over and over and over and over, like nails scratching at a chalkboard. It was horrifying, repulsive, revolting—yet enchanting all at once. The powerlessness that overcame you as you could do naught to alleviate him of his anguish. The abject horror of staring death in the eye. The strange fog of morbid curiosity that clouded you momentarily. It frightened you, excited you even.

Until, abruptly, he'd stopped. His head slumped, like a marionette freed of its strings, laying there motionlessly. With your chest heaving uncontrollably, you sat upright—dusting yourself off.

Don't look at it. Don't stare.

Weakly, you gripped the reddened hilt of your fan, searching for any semblance of comfort. But it was wet, slightly sticky and sickeningly sweet. The moon's silken sheen coated you both in its apathetic glow. Staring into his lifeless pupils you began to shudder, gripping your sleeves as an unforgiving cold overcame you.

Shame. You felt so deeply ashamed of your growing fascination with that macabre scene. Yet, it was vastly overpowered by a growing nausea that you could no longer hold back. Your throat burned with acid, as you struggled to catch your breath. Steadying yourself against a wall, you clutched your stomach—half expecting your organs to splatter onto the pavement alongside your sickness. Walking was a taxing task. You were tired, revolted and confused, weakly limping down the streets.

With each heavy drag of your feet, two identical ones followed behind you. Perhaps you had finally lost your mind, or maybe it was simply your lord's heishou surveilling you. You only knew one thing for certain. You would be back, no matter what.

════════════════════════════════════

As the days came and went, you became increasingly distracted. Meetings became impossible to pay attention to, your mind trailing back to the sobbing man's remains. His lips, parted in agony, or perhaps quirked in ecstasy. Was there a difference? Death was one of life's many unexplained spectacles. There lingers a fear of the inevitable, yet a beauty in its finality—promising an end to the suffering, even if not always painless. Perhaps joining the list of sacrifices wouldn't be too much of a bad idea-

"[Name]," you jolt in your seat, eyes fixated on the familiar splotch of white invading your vision. "You appeared to be.. rather preoccupied. Faust’s concern for you should be accounted for. As well as our lord's." Her soft eyes narrowed, as if assessing you. Avoiding her gaze, you nodded stiffly.

"Sorry, work's just been piling up. I haven't had much time to sleep." It was total bullshit, you were sure that she knew it too. Yet, she decided not to press you any further. Instead, nodding quietly and offering you a small glass of water, before taking her leave. Sat alone at your desk, you found your gaze lingering on the untouched drink. Idly swirling its contents about, you noticed the restless eyes reflected in the transparent glass. Fatigue was nothing new to you. Trying to quench your parched throat, you hesitantly brought the cup to your lips, the liquid trailing down further and further before touching your tongue. It tasted of iron, rust and filth.

Taking a moment to process what had happened, you found dull shards, scattered along the marble tiles. Inhaling sharply, you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from the mess of your own making.

You couldn't keep going like this.

From then on, you'd bring bandages with you on your journeys to the more isolated areas of Hongyuan, no longer relying on a palanquin. You walked, patching up the increasingly injured population. If ever asked about your progress in hunting down rebels, you'd simply relay that the people of Hongyuan are rather malleable—bending to the Lord's will without complaint.

Men and women alike huddled in fear, each wounded in a variety of ways. For once, you were able to use your lord's teachings for the betterment of others. With every new person tended to, ten more wounded would follow. It was frankly exhausting, but a job no other could do. Some outright refused your help, faces curled in disgust and contempt. You could hardly blame them. One such encounter stuck out to you in particular: a young woman, with her two children. 

When trying to dress her arm, her immediate violence made you recoil. She had slapped you, as though your hands were lined with poison. 

Though, it was nothing you weren't used to. After pausing for a moment, you continued on as usual—much to her dismay.

"Why do you keep coming back!?" She spat venomously. "Do you get a kick out of pretending to aid us?" Ignoring her ramblings for the sake of your own diminishing sanity, you dabbed some cotton on her festering wound. It was a deep gash in her arm, a deep, flowering red. Must've been recent. "Listen to me..!" She snapped, earning an eyebrow raise from you. "Everytime you come, he takes more and more of us. He takes more and more from us. Until nothing is left but a great weeping." Her breath hitched as she began to tremble uncontrollably. "We didn't do anything to you..! W-we promised not to—we were good, right?" You nod, a small yet subtle attempt to soothe her. Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

"Then why does he keep coming?? When will he stop taking and taking from us? We've given him enough.. I-I can't." Her venomous onslaught began to slow as she fell limp on your shoulder. Her breathing was ragged and uneven, eyes bloodshot with rage. You couldn't even begin to try and understand the horrors she spoke of, all you could offer was the half-hearted sympathy of an outsider. Someone more privileged than herself.

"I'm sorry." She merely scoffed in response.

One of the kids had clung to her side, probably trying to soothe his mother. His hushed murmurs were almost unintelligible. Though, you managed to make out one word, a title. Papa. She froze instantly, her complexion paling drastically. "He's not here." She replied feverishly, falling into a hollow tranquility. Each word spoken with unnerving clarity. "He's somewhere better off.. somewhere away from the stenches, the corpses, the dust, the filth, the gore. He's away from us, from everything and everyone and he's abandoned us and left us here and-"

As if awakening from her daze, she stares at you with an almost scandalised shock, before lowering her head in shame.

"I.. saw him." she admitted quietly, her voice now a mere whisper. "Vivisected. Dead and terrified." Her lifeless gaze met yours, a brief moment of connection. Shared despair.

"Why didn't you help him..?"

After that, you had never seen her again. Her two kids sometimes came to you, nervously inquiring about the whereabouts of their mother. Unfortunately, you had no answer to give them.

════════════════════════════════════

The woman was right, everytime you returned, there were fewer and fewer people to tend to. The ones that remained no longer sought your aid, instead begging for a quick release from their agony. But you couldn't offer them that luxury. You wouldn't. Not when you knew you could still do something for them. But then again, were you actually helping them at all…? Bandaging their wounds was simply a temporary solution to a permanent problem. Of course, H-corp certainly has the technology to aid these people. However, most providers had all gone into hiding. None of them wished to evoke your lord's ire. And at times like these—you can't help but be reminded of the costs that come with his infamy. 

The potent stench of death lingered about the streets. Each alley filled with either dead or dying bodies of these citizens. Those barely clinging onto consciousness often rambled on about that same mysterious figure, ‘he’ who robbed them, who tore them apart.

For what? You had no clue. These were citizens that you were meant to be protecting, forming bonds with. Yet they were being brutalised and massacred under your very nose. Yes, it's naive to hope for a H-corp built on unity, but it's far more preferable than whatever.. this was. But, despite all your frustration, you ultimately lack the power to bring about any significant change. So, you brought it up with your lord. 

Upon returning to the manor, you immediately noted Hong Lu's furrowed brows, a tell-tale sign that he likely wasn't in the mood for any ‘unfavourable’ news. Regardless, you pushed onwards.

“My Lord," bowing politely, you approached him in measured steps. Unbeknownst to you, his gaze softened. "There’s a growing problem that I'd like to bring to your attention. It’s.. quite urgent.”

“Speak.” He beckoned you closer. “If it’s enough to disgruntle you then clearly it’s worthy of my time.” Returning to your full height, you trailed your hand over the stone carved dragon-heads on his armrests. Pressing your fan to your lips, your voice lowered to a conspiratory hush.

“The streets of Daguanyuan are littered with bodies.”

“Well, that is to be expected, no?” Taken aback by his lax reply, you shook your head. 

“No, my lord this isn't quite the same. It's not the bodies of any other traitorous foes or rebellious gangs. They're.. ordinary people. Limbs removed, faces paled. And yet the numbers continue to rise.” Your hand lightly quivered, clutching onto your fan. “They're all scared of someone, only ever referred to through male pronouns. There could be a serial killer within our midsts, my lord. I say this out of as much fear for you as I do the people.”

His eye narrowed, taking on a contemplative stare, his hand lazily stroking his chin. 

“That does sound quite troublesome. I'll leave this in Faust's hands." a quiet beat passed, "However—” His eyes trailed from your face to the messily packed bandages in your satchel.

“What exactly do you intend to do with my bandages, hm?” Lazily his fingers brushed against the few rolls sticking out of your bag.

"…?" You were completely and utterly dumbfounded. Surely, now wasn't the time for petty inquiries.

“I often leave to tend to the minority of those still alive, my lord..” his eye narrowed perceptibly.

"You've been dressing strangers with the same hands that tend to me?"

"My lord..?"

"I see.” He waved his hand at you carelessly, with a slight growl to his voice. “You're dismissed.” In a haze of confusion, you simply nodded—before bowing again in gratitude. You couldn't quite shake your conflicting thoughts about his strangely dismissive manner behind you.

════════════════════════════════════

Hong Lu had begun asking for your presence quite frequently, even when it wasn't entirely necessary. Sometimes, he'd ask you to read aloud as he worked, others he'd simply watch you organise reports in silence. More often than not, he'd summon you simply to draw you against his chest, insisting that you remain there until his work was finished.

"Closer." He'd whisper into your ear, almost lovingly. And you obliged him, what right had you not to? Threading carefully through your hair, his hands moved to rest on the nape of your neck. A quiet sigh escaped, almost content.

"Perfect." His forehead nestled itself against your shoulder. “Stay here, exactly as you are.” thin lips ghosting over your collarbone. You felt a strange weight in the pit of your stomach, an unrivalled guilt that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“My Lord, I apologise for interrupting but..” a deep sigh left you, taking a brief moment of respite before responding. “Have there been any developments regarding the killings in Daguanyuang?” immediately, the fingers entangled in your hair stilled.

“You wish to bring this up now of all times..?”

"Possibly." He sighed in exasperation, offering no further response.

“Please my lord, the people are suffering greatly.”

"As do many, everyday."

“Yes but this is different-!" He hummed quietly to himself, holding you a little closer to his chest.

“[Name]." You fell silent, his hands now trailing down your back in soothing motions. "Do you not trust that I'm looking into it?”

“No.. I-” you inhaled sharply, curling your hands into weak fists. “I do, my lord.”

“Good.” He hummed in slight amusement. The corner of his eye seemed to crinkle at your submission. “Then, no more.. unnecessary interruptions.” He stroked your head with gentle care, as a master would their pet. “Threats to Hongyuan are threats to me, regardless of their severity," A small chuckle left his lips. "I treat them all with utmost importance.” 

For a brief moment, you almost believed him, almost. But a sense of dread remained instilled within you. 

Regardless of what he'd said, you couldn't erase the image of the shuddering civilians. Limbs disjointed from their bodies as they screamed in agony. They wailed and wailed and would not stop until an end was put to this madness. Until there was an end brought to this meaningless onslaught. But you could do nothing for them. You lacked the power to bring significant change to their lives. Yet, he could.

Instead, how did he choose to spend his days? He delayed meetings, insisting for you to redress his wound. Ignoring petitions and dismissing reports became terrible habits of his. And yet he only sought to do them in your presence. Nausea hung over you like a haze of fog.

He noticed, he always does.

“We should pick this up another time. As you know, I'm quite busy so-”

“Leaving already?” He replied all too quickly, eyes trained onto your satchel. His observant gaze trailed from the bandages, to your now quivering hands. “Off to visit that same street?” He scoffed in condescending amusement. “Not surprising in the slightest. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume that you're quite fond of the deceased.”

Your world had come to an abrupt halt as you turned to face him slowly. 

“I-I uhm.. well.” Further emboldened by your nervous reply, he pressed further.

“So I was correct~ Maybe I wasn't too far off with my assumption, hm?”

"My Lord.. now's seriously not the time for-"

"Oh? But it's time to surround yourself with heaps of corpses, hm?" You tore your gaze from his, clutching at your robes in growing frustration.

"Well, maybe they'd be in better conditions if you actually cared enough to help them..!" You glared at him, full of animosity and disgust. "All the time, you speak of the prosperity of Hongyuan, but when faced with those dying in Daguangyuan, you turn a blind eye??" Unable to soothe your growing temper, you stood up hastily, putting some distance between you and him. "It's sickening."

"Hm.." He sighed, as though chiding a disobedient child "Have you considered that perhaps, they're being neglected for a reason?" Narrowing his lone eye, his pale complexion donned an empty smile. A peculiar beauty, he was. 

"You do recall why I assigned you the role that I did, correct?" He gently cupped your cheek in his hand.

"To report anyone who didn't follow your laws.."

"Exactly~ Now humour me, how many people have you reported so far?" Your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.

"T-three..?"

"No~ Two." His face deadpanned as his grip grew tighter. "Only two rebels found after wings knows how many visits." He hummed idly, prying open a fist that you hadn't realised that you'd clenched. "As lovely as the implications are, I doubt that our people are that fond of their ruler.” Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezed your hand.

“It wouldn't be too unreasonable for me to begin to doubt my dearest advisor over this, no?" Nearly choking on your saliva, your throat began to clog. Any syllables uttered came out as strangled whispers. "I thought so." he scoffed, releasing his grip on your chin rather harshly. “So, I had the Heishou investigate Daguanyuan's trenches. Would you like to guess what they'd found~?” He didn't wait for a response, lowering himself down to your height, bringing you both face to face.

“Several banners towering still, all dedicated to the fallen lineages of the four families.”

His breath intermingled with your ragged breaths. “And yet, you continue to insist that they're 'innocent', even going as far as to lie on their behalf~” His cruel eye almost seemed to dilate in sadistic delight. “My dear, sweet, stupid [Name], aren't you aware of how terrible an impression this leaves? My very own advisor, now siding with the enemy. How.. interesting.”

“T-that wasn't my intention, my lord.. I had no idea-”

“Oh but you must've, right? Or else you wouldn't have been touching them with such-" He blinked. "bandaging their wounds, I meant.” Clearing his throat, he shook his head in disapproval.

“Hah.. If I knew you'd do this, I would've never allowed you to dress my wounds.” At that admission, you fell silent. That moment of brief vulnerability between you and your lord, now reduced to evidence poised against you. You would laugh if it wasn't so jarringly infuriating. Clutching onto your sleeve nervously, you played with the loose seams of the fabric.

"M-my apologies.." You wouldn't dare lift your head. But deep down, the lingering shadow of hesitance began to dwindle. "But-!

"But?" His looming figure cast an imposing shadow over you. You couldn't run or hide, you had no right to. This was your judgement. This was what you deserved for doubting your lord.

"If you had seen the state of them, my lord I'm sure you'd do the same." Despite the festering guilt within you, you continued. "Neither alive nor dead, they dragged their disfigured bodies along the pavements aimlessly. Most of them had no hope of a tomorrow and simply lived in fear of their imminent deaths." Resting a hand on your chest, you began to steady yourself. In contrast, his eyelid began to twitch. "Regardless of their beliefs, they're citizens of Hongyuan. They're our people, my lord. And I think that we could only allow for the development of Hongyuan through offering help to those in need. It's our duty."

A silent contemplation overtook him. His lips curled in displeasure, as he clicked his tongue. "Such idealistic naivety. How do you expect to correct Hongyuan's wrongs without establishing order?"

"Order shouldn't have to be established through such.. barbaric massacres." He flinched slightly at the word. "Instead we could help each other and-"

He latched onto your arm with a desperation that even stunned him. Quickly composing himself, his crazed eye softened with a plethora of indicipherable emotions. "Massacres…? Leaving a few rebels to die is hardly anything worth mentioning, trivial even." His pupil wavered, the grip on your arms tightening. But you weren't having it.

"Hong Lu.. what could those defenseless people have done against you?? All the Heishou branches are yours to control, and I'm certain that the people weren't stupid enough to act on their wishes." You briefly recalled that distressed mother, her youthful face drained by scars and wrinkles. "They.. promised to be good."

"And you'd fall for their deception..?" He snapped, a vein on his face popping. "My dear advisor, you truly are foolish." While trying to defend your case, he successfully seized your wrists, pressing them against the rough wall behind you.

"Deception….???" You scoffed in disbelief. "Please, tell me, were the missing limbs ‘deception’ too? Or maybe do you think that they'd simply painted their wounds?" Writhing against his grip, you tried (and failed) to pry him off you. "Of course, you can't imagine it, can you..? The dull acceptance of their circumstances, faces and bodies alike stained with blood and purpling bruises. Their eyes were either bloodshot or gouged out entirely.." You shuddered, feeling a wave of nausea overcome you. "Or maybe you just haven't been made aware of the stench of gore that runs rampant throughout the streets..? Or the people violently slashed and fed to-"

Your cheek stung, a pain that boiled and burned at your skin. It hurt. Your widened eyes trailed over to his. Shock and repulsion overcame his features, before settling into an icy glare. Yet his gaze was squarely focused on his palm, as if scrutinising it. He returned your stare, yet, he lacked his prior confidence. Just as you were about to continue speaking, he shoved his hand over your mouth.

"Silence." That cold command cut through the tense atmosphere. In response you opened your mouth, baring your fangs and sinking them into his palm. 

He froze. 

His tense glare wavered, making way for barely suppressed glee. "..You finally reveal yourself." Adorningly stroking the cheek he'd struck, his half lidded eye trailed to your teeth. Then the bite itself. It was unfortunately quite weak, not strong enough to break skin, nor draw blood. But that fact only seemed to excite him more. He became rigid almost—as if overcome by an intense passion. 

"Leave." For once, his orders came out in weakened pants. An insatiable hunger hung from his every word. "I fear that I may no longer be able to control myself if you don't."

════════════════════════════════════

Buried under layers of cushion, you hid yourself in your chambers for hours at a time. Sunny days blended into dreary nights, as your paperwork began to pile up. You'd have to return to your daily life, you knew. You'd be called to him again, you also knew. But was it so wrong of you to indulge languor? For once, would it be so bad to fill your mind with nothing but scenes of beautiful gardens? Each flower blooming brightly, swaying their pristine petals about without a care in the world. Perhaps they would wave and sing, as if to plead for water. Or maybe their stalks would twist and turn as they grew, forming adorable knots. You could almost feel flowers towering over you in your lifeless haze. Sometimes their luscious leaves would wither and crumple, looming over your cheek in a loving caress. Other times the petals would turn shrivel, paling to a dull maroon. As more time passed, you began to notice that your little garden had become rather isolated. Flowers unjustly ripped from the soil, others devoured by wandering insects. The picturesque meadow turned to a barren wasteland, save for one flower. A spider lily, decayed and fettered—yet undeniably beguiling.

"[Name].." The gentle voice called to you, almost awakening you from your deep slumber.

"Faust believes that it's unwise to remain holed up in your room." Unconsciously, you began to drone out the rhythmic knocking on the door. "It's detrimental to your health. Additionally, our lord has been-"

Once again, it bloomed.

"Faust.." you croaked, noting the fact that your door was now slightly ajar. "Tell him that I refuse to see him." Turning to face away from her figure, you buried yourself beneath your blankets. "In fact, I don't want to see anyone or anything.." A quiet yawn escaped your lips as you prepared to return to the land of dreams.

"[Name]." Her usually mediated tone became stern. "As disciples of our lord, how can we learn from him if we stray from our assigned paths." Paths..? You could almost laugh at her absurdity. People were dead and dying all around you both, yet she speaks of 'paths'?

"Then Faust, tell me. How righteous is a path that tells us to ignore helpless victims? What's 'just' about unnecessary genocides?" Your dull eyes met her cool ones.

She seats herself beside you, on the edge of your bed—carefully observing your obscured form. A contemplative silence befalls the two of you before she finally replies.

"When evaluating a government's success, one must account for long-term consequences alongside immediate suffering." Her fingers lightly tugged at the covers, exposing your tousled hair. "For example, many areas of Hongyuan have begun to prosper under our lord's will. It's been quite a while since I had last seen children wandering the streets." An imperceptible smile graced her lips.

Unable to stomach her musings any longer, you sat up, your limbs cramping with every shift.

"Then please, explain why the abandonment of citizens, that we are very much capable of aiding, is necessary..? Is wanting to save even one life such an obstacle to those 'paths' you speak of? Are they even worth following?" Faust's eyebrows furrow in conflict, crossing her arms absentmindedly.

"That's for you to decide." she replied matter-of-factly "Following the path of my lord is simply a choice, not an obligation." Leaning back to rest on your lap, she closed her eyes in quiet deliberation. Snowflakes, they were, delicately brushing against her cheek. Sighing to yourself, you stared at your curtain. What time was it? How many days had you spent slumbering? How were the residents doing? Did it even matter?

"Faust."

"Yes?"

"Does our lord.. really prioritise the prosperity of Hongyuan..?"

"That's.. debatable." You sat up promptly. Noticing your expectant gaze, she reluctantly continued. "As of late, he's become increasingly disturbed. By what? I'm unsure." she sent an almost apprehensive glance your way. "If Faust were to infer.." she briefly stops herself before shaking her head. "No, please excuse my ramblings."

With a quiet hum, you begin braiding her hair.

"Fine then. But, be honest with me, Faust. Do you think my efforts are wasted..?"

She holds your gaze for a long period before casting her gaze to your curtains. "No."

"No?" your fingers stopped threading through her hair. "No," she repeats "virtue, whether honest or false, is never wasted."

"Though, Faust has determined one thing for certain, our lord's priorities have shifted." Her eyes narrow subtly. "Neither Hongyuan nor order seemed to sway his judgement anymore. Instead, his reasoning has become almost.. inconsistent. Even so,"

She stands up, turning to face you with an almost admirable resolution. "I cannot abandon my lord. There is still hope that he may return to the path of righteousness." And with that, she left.

Pushing open the curtains, you gazed at the city beneath you. For a moment, you were taken aback. The alleys were mainly clean, the streets anything but silent. Those dreadful restructuring days never came, instead people walked about. Wandering to their heart's content. Of course, there weren't as many people roaming about as before but.. this still held its  importance. You felt your mind drift to.. Simpler times. When travelling with your lord was a luxury rather than a burden. With everyday that passed, you had considered a new path, learned lifelong lessons and most importantly—you enjoyed yourself.

Feeling your heart thump with nostalgic melancholy, you stilled your breath. 

Under your lord's rule, life most definitely could prosper. 

Perhaps Faust had been right. Hongyuan wasn’t wholly desolate, somewhere beneath the bloodshed; his dream still endured. 

Hesitantly, you rose. If even a fragment of the man you had once served remained, maybe he could still be reached. You'd have to try.

Pulling on your robes, you stared at your room one last time. The room suddenly felt strangely unfamiliar, as if it were no longer yours. Shrugging off your lingering regrets, you pushed the door open.

════════════════════════════════════

When you arrived, the halls were deathly silent. The polished marble tiles reflected a hollow imitation of warmth, their pristine surfaces concealing the coldness beneath. He was already seated upon his throne, expecting you.

"I wondered when you'd return to me." He drawled in a tone of faux affection.

"Hong Lu," his eye twitched slightly. "I've realised something important.” Positioning yourself at the centre of Hongyuan’s grand hall, you continued. “You're not a careless ruler by all means. If anything, I'm sure that you've brought joy to many families-"

"Your point being?"

"Well.." slightly disheartened, you continued. "Just as you've helped those in this region, perhaps you could reconsider your negligence of-"

"Advisor of mine, you seem to forget that I've not once claimed to be anyone's saviour." Your blood ran cold.

"E-excuse me..?"

"My role is simply to follow the path presented to me. Hongyuan is more than those who presently inhabit it." Trying to regain your composure, you approached the throne. Yet, your voice wavered, your steps had become heavy. He sat comfortably in contrast, his face rested against his hand.

"But then my lor- no. Hong Lu, what is Hongyuan to you?"

He sighed, rising from his seat.

"Hongyuan is the future." He leaned in closer. "It cannot be governed for the sake of the pre-existing populace. Every sacrifice, every decree, they're made for those yet to come."

Your throat ran dry.

"Then what of the living..?" You clenched your fist tightly, "Are we simply expendable tools to you?"

"I wouldn't say that." he hums to himself "We're all simply.. temporary."

"And the deaths of the already 'temporary' masses are supposed to pave a future for who? There will be nobody left to rule." You glare at him harshly.

"The chronicles would disagree~"

He rose with a sly grin, pacing around , before you in slow circles. Once he’d stopped, he stood squarely in front of you.

"Then would you say that I should’ve spared those elders?"

That was hardly a fair question, comparing the working class to the revered Xianren. His smile only widened, a hollow thing.

"…No."

"Then you agree that sacrifices are necessary?"

"There's a difference between necessary sacrifice and unjust slaughter." His eye crinkled with mirth.

"Then, dear advisor, where precisely would you draw the line?" He took a measured step forward. "One death?" And another, "One hundred deaths?" and another, "One thousand?" until you're backed against a wall, trapped against his notably taller figure. "Tell me, when does it become irresponsibility, hm?"

Taking a deep breath in, you sigh. "This is exactly my point. These people aren't sacrifices in the name of some virtuous cause, they're simply meaningless numbers to you. You don't understand the weight of these deaths. In fact," you point the tip of your fan at his chest "you speak of Hongyuan's future, but all you’ve done is neglect it."

He blinks back in surprise, taking a step back. Before his eyes narrowed to serpentine slits, an intrigued smirk played on his lips.

"What exactly are you trying to say then?" He chuckled darkly, his eye boring into your soul. But you refused to relent. If anything, you're further motivated to expose himself to his own folly.

"For one, you've constantly rescheduled meetings,"

"By a few hours at most."

"You leave piles of petitions to collect dust, weekly."

"They're hardly worth giving attention to. Far more important tasks await me, after all"

"Like what, summoning me?"

His eye widened subtly. Speechless, he was.

"Is it so wrong to want to surround myself with what's mine?"

Now it was your turn to fall silent. Hesitating to face him, you again felt crushed by an overwhelmingly oppressive force. The weight of his favour is what you’d like to call it. However, it felt much more akin to a burden.

"Hong Lu, I'm not yours.."

"Aren't you?" his small grin widened into a smirk. "You've always been my closest advisor~"

Attempting to cool the rush of blood to your head, you pressed your palm to your forehead. "That's not the point. You're being negligent."

"Hm, am I?" Taking your raised hand in his, pulled you closer to him. "Let's say then.. if Hongyuan were to lose such a valuable asset.. would it not weaken?"

"Well.. it might."

"Then how could keeping you by my side be an act of neglect?"

You were getting nowhere with him. Clicking your tongue in irritation, you couldn’t bring yourself to be surprised. 

"My lord, you've changed." He stilled, eyeing you curiously. "In the past you'd always despised melodramatics. Instead, you preferred to keep a clear head." You narrowed your gaze at him. "Unfortunately, you no longer uphold such principles anymore."

"Hah. And you believe that you're qualified to judge me, your lord?" Lifting your chin up, his thumb absentmindedly stroked your cheek. "Sheltering traitors, arguing against my decrees, concealing dissent. " His grip tightened. "Any other ruler would call that treason." His bangs crept over his singular eye, fixating his gaze on you with tangible malice.

"Then, are you going to cut me down as you did to those in Daguanyuan?" You held your stead, staring him down. But he didn't budge.

"No," His fingers slipped away from yours, "What a foolish question." Strangely, he laughed, his lips split in ecstacy. "Because.. I need you."

Your expression fell. And you realised.

Digging through your memory, you searched and searched. Rereviewing your every encounter, every conversation. Every passing gift, each encouraging nod. Everything had been built up to this very moment. Your devotion had become a cage, tethering you to him. And all this time, you’d thanked him 

Ahh.. you wanted to die. More than anything.

You weren't stupid by any means, but.. this was far too much. Even for you.

Backing yourself further and further against the wall, you tried all you could to get away from him. Every shiver, every breath was accounted for in terrifying detail by his husk of an eye.

“I had always hated when you left, you know?” He started conversationally, “Every morning you’d disappear into our dreadful city, returning with the scent of someone else’s blood.” 

“You’d come back exhausted, fretting over irrelevant vermin. Smiling and chatting away with them..” Furrowing his brows, a scowl began to overtake his features. "Yet, you always found ways to evade me. Whether tending to the injured masses, signing paperwork, or conversing with others. It's always something with you." He hummed, "So I simply sought to.. remove those distractions."

"…You're sick." Your voice came out hoarse, almost unrecognisable. It trembled and wavered despite your bet efforts to remain composed. You couldn’t help it. With every truth laid bare, another wave of nausea churned within you.

This was never about Hongyuan.

"Perhaps," he smiled a wild, unrestrained grin, eye curved to a lonesome crescent. "But if that allows me to keep you," he leaned into your ear, purring almost. "I'd much rather stay this way~"

 “So,” His hand gently brushed your hair out of your face. “I’ve decided.” Wrapping his arm around your waist, he buried his face against your neck. "You'll serve me until the day you die."

And, cruelly enough, he had kept his word.

════════════════════════════════════

Now dyed in shades of crimson and shadow, the halls had long since forgotten the warmth they once held. A sickly sheen clung to every surface, as though even the stone itself had grown tired of witnessing the great violences performed within these walls. The repugnant scent of iron lingered in the air, seeping into cracks between the tiles. Stained silk banners hung lifelessly over the corpses of soldiers. Some had died as decorated veterans, others as frightened recruits. In the end, neither glory nor inexperience spared them. Death welcomed them with equal indifference all the same.

They were warnings no longer, simply reminders of the cost that came with liberation.

And there he stood, unbothered by the remains that surrounded him. 

Hong Lu, your lord, remained solely focused on you.

His guandao rested in his hand, its blade reflecting the dim light above. He wore a veneer of serenity, yet it did little to mask his apprehension.

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was quite peculiar. After all the blood spilt in his name, all the teachings he relayed to you so enthusiastically..

You had finally committed a transgression he couldn’t forgive. Abandonment. 

Now you're stood before him, at the mercy of his weapon. If he'd truly grant you the mercy of death—you wished it to be as cruel as the deaths suffered by your companions. Unfortunately, you no longer had the luxury of deciding your fate. All that was left was to accept it.

In one fell swoop, his blade descended.

—

Almost immediately, a deafening shriek of steel tore through the hall. 

Between yourself and death stood a familiar head of white hair.

Faust.

She stood tall, her sword trembling beneath the weight of Hong Lu's polearm. Both weapons were locked together with enough force to send sparks skittering across the marble. She had come, finally.

Yet, the expected relief never came. Her posture lacked any sense of triumph or conviction—it had a unique rigidness to it. Instead, her hesitant steps were that of someone mourning. Someone who’d arrived far too late. 

Not once did she look at you. Her troubled eyes remained fixed upon the edge of Hong Lu's weapon, as though the polished steel were easier to bear than the sight of your face. At first, you thought it were concentration, embarrassment perhaps. Instead, she was hiding something far worse. Guilt, growing- no, festering within her.

Hong Lu's unreadable expression dropped for a split second, softening into quiet recognition.

"...Interfering again, hm, Faust?"

Her grip tightened around the hilt of her sword—amplifying the force of her blade against his.

"Faust determined that this execution would only result in unnecessary losses."

"Unnecessary?" The corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly. "What an... interesting choice of words." With neither willing to yield completely, the clash dissolved into an uneasy stalemate. They both withdrew, Faust—protectively by your side—whilst Hong Lu stood alone.

A quiet laugh escaped him.

"So then..." His eye lazily drifted over you, eyeing your trembling form with an almost perverse delight. Noticing this, Faust shifted, as if to shield you from his vision. "What do you propose I do with this traitor?"

Instinctively, you stepped forward, squeezing her arm.

"Faust, I really don’t mind—"

But, she didn’t react. Gripping onto her, you spun her around, making sure that she was facing you.. "...Faust?"

Nothing.

Not even the slightest glance. It was as though your voice had never reached her to begin with. Her iris’ swirled with an inexplicable dread as silence settled like frost. Slowly, she turned away from you, grimacing at your confusion,

At last, Faust spoke.

"...Let them live."

The words came out in a quiet whisper, sounding almost pained.

In response, Hong Lu's unsettling grin simply widened.

"Live?" He repeated slowly, tasting the word with open amusement. "But surely that contradicts the very path we've walked together, no?." Dragging his weapon alongside him, he strode forward with confidence.

"Faust."

His voice remained gentle, as if coaxing her to his side.

"I’d like to hear your reasoning."

In an instant, her head bowed. Hesitation had never been an emotion you’d thought Faust capable of, yet it clung to her now with unsettling clarity. Her fingers idly traced the flat of her blade, searching for a certainty it couldn’t offer. The composure that had always defined her seemed to waver as her gaze drifted—from the bloodstained floor, to the forgotten guards, and finally to the edge of her sword, clasped within her trembling hands. Everywhere, save for you. 

"...Their death would be entirely meaningless." His eye crinkled with mirth as he continued his interrogation.

"How so?"

"Faust believes that they’re valuable." 

Taking an unhurried step towards the two of you, he let out a quiet laugh.

"Valuable? What an amusing sentiment.” His head tilted playfully. “To whom, Faust?"

The oppressive silence continued to haunt the hall, lingering a beat longer this time.

"...To Hongyuan."

"Oh, but of course." A weary, almost affectionate sigh fell from his lips. "They were my most precious advisor once." His gaze never left her. “But times have changed, have they not? They’ve long since abandoned their path.” A small smile played on his lips, peering at you from the corner of his eye. “They are of value to Hongyuan no longer.”

Faust’s lips parted in an attempt to refute him. Yet, no words came.

“I ask again, Miss Faust. Who are they valuable to?”

For the first time since she'd arrived, Faust faltered. Her eyes had shut, as she stood in silence. For the briefest of moments, you thought she’d stop entertaining his madness. That perhaps she would draw her sword once more. That perhaps—

"...To you."

Her voice barely carried over.

"Pardon?"

The silence that followed seemed endless.

When she finally spoke again, each word emerged as though dragged painfully from her throat. Hoarse and raw.

"They’re valuable..."

Her fingers tightened against her sword’s holster, leaving her knuckles whitened and bruised.

"...to you, my lord."

The admission echoed through the empty hall, sealing your fate. 

You looked to Faust, waiting patiently. Surely she would object. Surely she'd remind him that attachment clouded judgement—that his fixation on you ran contrary to everything he once claimed to value. Surely she'd tell him to let you go.

Tentatively, you reached for her hand, your fingers curling around hers. They hung limp within your grasp, neither returning the gesture nor pulling away.

"...Faust?"

Nothing. Not a single word was uttered. Her shoulders remained burdened by an invisible weight. Her eyes never rose to meet yours, lingering instead upon the bloodstained marble below.

And then it struck you.

Faust had never come here to save you, instead she had come to bargain. And your life had never been the subject of negotiation. It was your freedom.

Closing his eye with a quiet satisfaction, he hummed to himself.

"I thought so."

With a quiet motion, Faust slipped her hand from your grasp, never looking back. Instead, she faced Hong Lu alone, lowering her head until silver strands curtained her expression.

"My lord..." she whispered softly. "...Please."

Hong Lu regarded her for a long while, his expression unreadable. He looked upon her desperation with the same detached consideration one might spare the weather. Then, at last—

His guandao lowered.

"Very well then." Relief flickered across Faust's face so briefly you almost believed you'd imagined it. "I’ll spare them."

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were withholding.

"However..." That word alone was enough to still your heart, hollowing your chest. His eye drifted lazily towards you.

"They will return to Yihongyuan."

His voice carried neither anger nor triumph. It was simply law.

"From this day onward, they are forbidden from leaving my side."

Faust stiffened, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword.

"...Or my estate."

He began walking towards you with that familiar unhurried confidence he'd always possessed. Every measured step echoed through the bloodstained hall, until only a single breath separated you. His hand rose to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"They won’t disappear from my sight again."

His smile was almost gentle. There was an unmistakable tenderness to it, one that all but withered beneath the emptiness of his eye. 

"After having almost lost them once." His thumb lingered against your cheek. "I have no intention of repeating that mistake."

Your knees threatened to give way.

"Come," He offered you his hand with an effortless familiarity, easily mistakeable for kindness. But you knew better.

"We've both had quite enough excitement for today."

His gaze never left yours.

"Let's go home."

across the room, erza nearly chokes on her milk coffee — specifically, the one she'd insisted needed far more sugar than any reasonable human being should ever consume.

"what—??"

the exclamation tears across the pintsized office before she hurriedly wipes the coffee threatening to spill from the corner of her mouth, eyes darting frantically between the two of you as if she'd somehow misheard every single word.

". . . did i hear that wrong ?" she probes, blinking several times in rapid succession. "you guys are . . . what ?"

you swallow against the nonexistent lump gathering in your throat.

"we're seeing each other."

sensing your growing reluctance to continue, vespa picks up where you leave off.

". . . h-hold on." erza raises both hands, gesturing vaguely between the pair of you. "you mean . . . as in, you two are literally seeing each other ? right now ? with your eyes ?"

"no."

". . ."

"we were referring to the romantic implication," he clarifies. "we are mutually interested in one another and have agreed to establish an official romantic relationship."

you know every word leaving his mouth is objectively correct — that there is nothing inaccurate about his explanation, nothing exaggerated, nothing worthy of embarrassment.

and yet, for some reasons, every time he chooses to phrase it with that same unwavering sincerity, you can feel warmth creeping inexorably across your face.

meanwhile, erza merely stares.

her expression cycles through disbelief, confusion, and something that looks suspiciously close to spiritual collapse before eventually settling on neither.

". . ."

". . . i . . ." she slowly points between the two of you. "since . . . when . ."

"about two weeks ago," vespa answers without prompting.

"TWO WHOLE WEEKS ?!"

frankly, setting aside the altogether different problem of your face steadily warming by the second, you'd much prefer if erza lowered her voice right about now. another outburst or two at this volume and you're fairly certain your tympanic membranes will simply resign on the spot.

then again . . .

you can't exactly blame her.

if anything, you're beginning to worry about her heart more than your own ears. at this rate it'd probably leap clean out of her chest before the conversation ever reaches its conclusion.

"sobs. . detectiveee . . ." erza faux-whimpers, hastily stifling the sound while looking every bit like she's teetering on the verge of tears. the drawn-out plea lingers in the air for a bat of an eye before abruptly turns toward the office entrance, having somehow noticed someone approaching well before the rest of you.

". . . what now ?"

by the time your own gaze reaches the doorway, moses' characteristically deadpan inquiry has already drifted across the room. she steps inside with the sort of quiet exhaustion that suggests she's mentally preparing herself to deal with yet another inconvenience before even learning what it is — at first.

her narrowed eyes travel slowly across the office, lingering upon erza's visibly shaken expression before settling on the unusual warmth lingering across your face, then finally upon vespa, whose brows remain ever so slightly knitted together in barely restrained irritation.

she says nothing for a moment, merely observing the three of you with the same scrutinizing gaze she'd use to reconstruct the scene of a crime — as if gathering one clue after another until the final missing piece placidly falls into place.

". . . i see."

and by those two mere words alone, anyone familiar enough with moses could already tell she'd pieced together more than enough of the situation.

speaking of which — now that you stop and think about it, perhaps announcing your relationship in the middle of moses' office wasn't exactly the wisest decision.

actually, not wise at all.

after all, relationships have a rather unfortunate tendency to invite complications, distractions, and countless little inconveniences that inevitably seep into one's work whether welcomed or not.

and if there were anyone likely to consider such things unnecessary baggage, it'd undoubtedly be moses.

the mere possibility that she might disapprove tacitly settles in the back of your mind, enough to make you instinctively straighten your posture as though preparing yourself for an inevitable lecture on why this arrangement would only prove detrimental to the office.

beside you, vespa appears no less uneasy, even if he conceals it considerably better than you ever could.

except, much to your surprise—

"you know what to do."

huh ?

rather than addressing either of you, moses calmly turns toward erza, an almost imperceptible yet oddly cunning smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

"pay up."

". . . pay up ?" you echo, thoroughly bewildered.

"that's rigged !!" the blonde woman cries in immediate protest. "there's no way— you totally saw this coming all along !"

"i didn't." moses merely gives a small shrug. "i merely had a suspicion."

"that's rather the point of making a wager, isn't it ?"

the 'argument' dies almost as quickly as it began.

erza simply puffs out her cheeks like a thoroughly wronged child before begrudgingly fishing a small handful of ahns from her pocket and dropping them into moses' waiting hand with all the enthusiasm of someone attending their own execution.

". . . did the two of you really place a wager on whether we were romantically involved ?" vespa finally speaks up at last, a faint shadow sluggishly settling between his already knitted brows.

"nope," erza waves the question away with a flick of her wrist. "it was whether you'd actually manage to pull them before the month ended."

". . . so. ." you carefully clear your throat. ". . . you bet against him ?"

"yeppers."

. . .

"now baby bee, hold on—"

"erza," the man in yellow and black makes a statement that akin to a low growls. "kindly elaborate."

"okay, okay !! in my defense—"

"shut it down. both of you." before erza can scramble together whatever excuse she had prepared, moses pinches the bridge of her nose with a long-suffering sigh, looking every bit too exhausted to entertain whatever this had already become.

her gaze drifts toward the few shimmering ahns resting neatly in her palm. maybe she'd already made peace with the possibility long before today.

after all, now that there were, apparently, two hopelessly lovestruck idiots under her roof instead of one, scenes like this were only a matter of time.

but to be frank, she supposes this outcome is preferable — better having the relationship made official than continuing to watch the two of you spend months circling around one another, beating around the bush and tiptoeing around feelings so painfully obvious everyone else had noticed them first.

perhaps she could afford to be optimistic for once. perhaps.

meanwhile, watching the absurd little spectacle unfold before your eyes, you can't help the soft laugh that slips past your lips.

"it's alright, vespa. now c'mere."

at the sound of your voice, he comes to an immediate halt.

without another word, he abandons the pursuit altogether and calmly makes his way back toward you, inadvertently sparing your unfortunate yellow-haired coworker from what would've almost certainly become the slowest chase in the history of the city.

though not before casting his former target one final, unmistakably displeased glare, to which erza merely puffs out her chest and glares right back with equal determination — albeit one that comes across far less menacing and far more akin to a stubborn child refusing to lose.

DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY ──────── ✦ again another request that was sent before i updated my rules. please do take a moment to read through them before sending in future requests, will you ? if the full wall of regulations feels like too much, then at the very least, please read the notes at the very end — they cover the most important bits. that said . . . i'll let this one slide — partly because distortion detective is my current hyperfixation and partly because i'm feeling generous today

For all of her attempts at appearing aloof and over every bit of the company’s bullshit, Ishmael has had a fiery temper for as long as you’ve known her. While the resolution of collecting the last Bough had certainly given her a lot to think about, a lot of drive to take charge of her life and claim responsibility for her own actions from here on out, the waters of the Great Lake had done little to douse it. To your relief, but not quite your surprise, she was still herself.

The shore is about six days away now. She no longer locks herself in her bunk, roaring tides are no longer a prominent staple of your walk past her room each morning. On clear and peaceful nights, she comes to find you, rather than retreating into solitude as soon as work hours are called to a close. Only tonight, where it would usually be quiet, accompanied by the occasional question about things that felt inane compared to all you'd just faced lately, the atmosphere is much less… tranquil.

Ishmael has just ranted to you for so long that the sun has finally dipped below the horizon, and you can't quite recall if she had stopped to breathe at any point. And it's not that you mind, of course not. It’s not as if it’s unimportant. But she's looking at you, finally waiting for your reply, and you're finding it a little difficult to format one.

Calling Heathcliff an asshole would also be the easier option. It’s what Ishmael is waiting to hear, since she so firmly believes that she must be in the right, and maybe some other time she would be. But despite your better judgment, you really didn’t think Heathcliff was an asshole. Or, well, not in this specific case. Plenty of other times, for sure. But who wasn’t sometimes? You drum your fingers on the wall of the vessel, sucking on your teeth as you try to find the best way to phrase this.

“...you know, you two do try to piss each other off–”

Her glare is so full of malice at the very hint of your suggestion that your jaw snaps shut of its own accord.

”You can’t be serious.”

”I’m pretty serious. You guys are constantly going back and forth.”

After all that they’d been through in the whale, you would have expected them both to have turned over a new leaf. Maybe not go frolicking through any flower fields together or anything, but at least not actively antagonistic. And they were fine for a little while! At least, up until this afternoon.

Ishmael rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Lover boy can dish it out, but he can't take it.”

You run your finger along a groove on the wall, looking out into the inky black water. “What you said did go kinda far, Ish.”

Ishmael gets quiet then. You can feel her looking at you, see her shoulders droop from the corner of your eye.

You hadn't been there when it kicked off. You'd had the nerve to leave the cabin, stupidly assuming that nothing could possibly go wrong in the five minutes you were gone. The tail end of the ordeal, Ishmael's biting retort to something you hadn't heard, followed by the two of them throwing punches, had been your welcome back. At the very least, they'd stuck to fists instead of raising their weapons. Vergilius did say he better not hear weapons clashing on the bus all of those months ago, but judging by the vein popping out on his forehead, that wasn’t the best loophole.

If it wouldn’t get her started again, you’d ask Ishmael what exactly had been said. All the insight you’d gotten was that everything snowballed much faster than it should have. Faster than it would have if deep down, it wasn’t actually about something completely unrelated to what they’d said to each other. It didn’t seem to bring either of them any peace of relief or some sort of resolution. It didn’t even really burn off any residual anger. Instead, what they got were black eyes and a busted lip. You heard somebody setting Heathcliff's nose, not from any real reaction on his part, just the sickening crunch that ensued. Dante wouldn't be expected to rewind injuries that trivial, and even if they were, you sure wouldn’t have. The whole thing was ridiculous. It makes you a little peeved just to think too hard about it.

Ishmael thumbs at the split in her lip. “...I guess it did.”

That admission makes you whip your head to face her so quickly your neck twinges.

It isn't like Ishmael is… impossible to get through to. Not if she doesn't want to be. Her behavior the last few weeks threatened to prove you wrong, but all it took was a few (a lot) nudges (shoves) in the right direction, and she eventually came back to her senses. You just aren't used to hearing her admit to her wrongdoings so easily, so dejectedly.

Even after numerous rewinds and a handful of days between then and tonight, her wounds from the whale are still raw and stinging. And really, maybe she's more sensitive right now than she's willing to admit to even herself. That was somethting her and Heathcliff certainly had in common. If only the two of them would just realize that themselves. That they actually had quite a few similarities.

A hand rubs at your neck, and she glares at you to let you know just how dramatic she finds your startled reaction, but she doesn’t call you out on it aloud.

“I think you're both just kinda wound up. Everything out here, and then where we're going…” Allowing her to fill in the blanks, you trail off for a bit. Really, you had no idea what was awaiting the company once you all reached Districit 20. But Heathcliff likely had some semblance of an idea, and you know that when it comes to your turn, you won’t be in a much better state.

Ishmael doesn't say anything, doesn’t even show that she’s listening. But she’s still standing there, and she’d walk away if she didn’t want to be there, so you continue.

“I mean, how did you feel when you found out it was your turn? Because I remember you being ready to drown any of us if we looked at you wrong.”

“I was not–” That bad, but she was pretty bad. That's why she abandons any attempt at defending herself then. Or it could just be that she's gone and burnt herself out. She doesn’t try to defend herself any further, like she’s burned off all of her energy for the night.

It's pointless with the winds, but you reach out to brush some of her hair away that quickly just blows back into place. There's a big purple bruise on the side of her face, already much darker than it was a few hours ago. Your hand finds her other cheek, chilled a bit in the air of a cool summer night, unmarked by her fight.

“Maybe just… show him some patience? You guys could do a lot of good if you’d just get along.” You ask softly. It feels like a much larger request than it really should be, but Ishmael doesn’t have a great track record of denying you anything.

Her eyes flit around. To the water, the door to the cabin, and then back to you. And to your surprise, rather than (unimaginably gently) swatting your hand away, she leans into it the slightest bit. Her brow furrows, reluctance seeps into both syllables of her concise reply.

“...Maybe.”

Her reward is a kiss on her injured cheek, and she huffs and rolls her eyes, but her face turns red and she refrains from making any comments about you kissing it better.

You’ll give her a few minutes to recover before you insist that she go apologize.

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