letters for you

hikari: death/loss. as far as we know as of right now, no one in clementia (except for rui and haku who switched houses) survived the clash. that goes for hikari too. everything about her is through the lense of darkwick a few years back. or perhaps through the lens of people remembering her.

yelena: burnout, pressure, avoidant escapism, toxic family dynamics. yelena is mixed and yet managed to get the absolute worst of both worlds regarding her parents, the life they pressured her towards and what it turned her into.

The Frostheim dorms always smelled like perfume and privilege. Even the air in the hallways seemed curated, warm and humming with a sense entitlement that was carefully passed down through from generation to generation. Every time Yelena passed another girl in designer boots or a boy with some rich family crest stitched into his cuffs, she had to fight the urge to shove them headfirst into the snow outside.

Two days. That was all it had been, and she already hated every second. They looked at her like she was some exotic specimen Darkwick had airlifted in for their entertainment. The Russian skater. The ghoul with the odd immunity. Mortkranken’s most recent miracle test subject. Not one of them had ever had to struggle a day in their life, never forced to leave their house with nothing but a backpack in the middle of the night.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her skull even here: A quad you’ve jumped a thousand times is not worth missing. You miss it, you can’t be hungry enough just yet. She had left the keys on the kitchen table. Slipped away in silence before dawn. Didn’t say goodbye. Not to her mother or her father. Didn’t dare. If she thought about it for too long, she might unravel entirely.

So instead, she thought about getting blackout drunk with the zipper crocs instead.

The campus store was a cramped little space that smelled vaguely like dust and ramen. Rows of snacks lined the shelves, and behind the counter was a man, probably in his 30s, she vaguely recognized: tall, black hair falling into his eyes, posture folded in on itself like he was perpetually apologizing for existing. His nametag said BENKEI.

When she asked if he sold anything stronger than soda, his hands twitched over the register like she’d just requested contraband.

“Uh, no, no alcohol here,” he said quickly, eyes flicking nervously to the cameras in the corner. “Sorry! But there’s a bar. If you want, you know, drinks? Not that I’m suggesting you go drink! You don’t have to! I just— ah, please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not trying to, you know, somehow harass you into… uh…”

Yelena raised an eyebrow. “Do I look harassed?”

Benkei turned pink instantly, shaking his head so vigorously it looked like his life depended on it. “N-no! No, no, you look perfectly fine, really! Just tired. Maybe a little scary. Not scary in a bad way, scary in a good way. Not too good though! I mean—”

“Spit it out,” she sighed.

“There’s a bar in Obscuary,” he blurted. “For ghouls. Serves liquor made from anomalous plants. Uh, just don’t stray from the path. It’s… different over there. You’ll see.”

Different. That was fine. Everything here was different anyway. She zipped her jacket back up, shoved her hands deep in her pockets, and stomped through the snow until the long corridors gave way to trees and darkness.

Obscuary felt like stepping into another world. The forest was alive with a hum she couldn’t quite put her finger on, the air colder, the night thicker. Strange plants twisted along the path, luminous flowers and roots curling towards the cobblestone path with quiet menace. The stories she’d heard about them during her orientation weren’t flattering, but Yelena only pulled her hood lower and kept walking. None of her business.

At last, the dorm lights flickered through the trees, and nestled nearby was a small building glowing with warm orange lamps. Voices and laughter spilled out through the wooden door, and for the first time since arriving in Tokyo, she felt something faintly resembling curiosity.

Inside, the bar was alive. Piano music low, chatter high, the air thick with warmth and a faint smell of citrus and smoke. Some ghoul students she definitely should remember (but didn’t) lounged at tables, drinks in hand. And behind the bar stood, as she’d find out seconds later, her very own nightmare of a person.

Soft, golden hair caught the dim light of the bar, a stark contrast to the man’s ruby eyes and perpetually cheeky grin.

“Oh hey,” he called out immediately, voice sing-song, eyes sliding straight to her like he’d been waiting. “New face. Cute face. Welcome to Obscuary! What’s your poison? Don’t say water, I’ll cry.”

“Vodka,” she said flatly, sliding onto a stool at the farthest end of the bar.

His grin widened. “Cute accent! Russian, huh? Figures. You’ve got that ice princess vibe going on. Snow cutie. Winter wonderland fairy. Am I close?”

She stared at him, deadpan. “Do you talk to all your customers like that, or am I just unfortunate?”

He leaned across the counter, chin in hand, eyes glinting mischievously. “Both. Definitely both.”

I hate this guy, Yelena thought instantly, dragging a hand down her face. And yet, his energy wasn’t the slimy kind she’d grown up dodging at press conferences and afterparties. It was almost… harmless. She felt like he’d definitely back of it she told him to. That’d be a first.

When he set her shot glass down, she wrapped her fingers around the it like it was a lifeline before throwing it back in one go, familiar enough with the burn in her throat to keep herself from grimacing. Two days in Frostheim and I already want to get blackout drunk. That has to be some kind of record.

“So, mystery girl,” the extroverted bartender said, spinning a shaker idly. “What’s your story? Where you from? Frostheim, I’m guessing. Definitely not Vagastrom or any of our less cultured houses. You’d fit right in with all that snow-queen energy though. Probably live in the towers. Fancy.”

Yelena pursed her lips. The burn of the alcohol warmed her chest, loosening something tight inside. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“It’s a gift,” he said brightly. “C’mon, don’t leave me hanging. The name’s Rui Mizuki, by the way. Now that you know it, you gotta be nice to me~!”

She eyed him over the rim of her glass. Then, just for the hell of it, she lied. Bold, brazen, straight-faced lies. For no particular reason other than that Rui’s reactions were oddly… endearing. God. She really was going crazy, wasn’t she?

“Nah. I’m from Hotarubi.” His face was priceless. “I’ve been studying here for like… a year. I thought ghouls were cool so I made a pact myself.” Rui stopped spinning the shaker. “The Chancellor actually gave me like, ¥50000 for me to make a pact. Said I’d get extra credit too but that didn’t come in yet. Traitor.” Now, the blond’s face turned straight up horrified.

It took everything in her to not crack.

Meanwhile, it took him a solid three minutes of awkward silence to catch on. Then his jaw dropped, his hand pressing to his cheek like she’d personally slapped him. “No way. You’re lying to me?” She nodded, her shoulders shaking with mirth. Rui dramatically clutched his chest. “You’re breaking my heart, mystery cutie!”

Something startled out of her then — a laugh. Sharp, short, but real. Her first in weeks.

Rui lit up like he’d just won the lottery. “There it is! Oh man, it suits you. Should’ve guessed, ice princess with a warm laugh. Deadly combo.”

She shook her head, hiding her smile behind her glass. She hadn’t realized he’d made her another drink. “You’re insufferable.”

“True,” he said easily, propping himself against the counter. “But admit it! You’re not bored anymore. That’s why most people drop by. Darkwick isn’t exactly a party place…”

Rui leaned his elbows against the counter, grinning like he’d just been handed a challenge. “Alright, cutie. Let’s make this fun. Two truths, one lie. You play, I’ll buy your next drink.”

Yelena arched a brow, swirling the last of her drink in the glass. “What are we, twelve?”

“Emotionally?” Rui smirked. “Yeah, definitely. C’mon, don’t leave me hanging. You look like you could use a game anyway.”

She wanted to scoff, to shut him down, but something about the way his eyes glinted, mischievous and expectant, kept her from turning away. Maybe it was the jet lag, maybe the vodka, maybe the loneliness gnawing at her sanity. Against her better judgment, she sighed and set her glass down.

“Fine,” she said. “But only once.”

Rui brightened instantly. “That’s all I need.”

She folded her arms, chin tilted high. “Alright. One: I’m a three-times Olympic gold medalist. Two: I completely tore the ACL in my knee once. It was so bad my leg was literally dangling. Three: I hate the cold. Winter is a nightmare for me.”

Rui whistled low, shaking his head like he’d just been smacked. “Wow. Starting strong.” He tapped his chin theatrically, pretending to mull it over. “Okay, okay. First of all… Olympic gold medalist? That’s like, straight out of a manga. But you’ve definitely got professional athlet vibes, so… plausible.”

Yelena’s lips curved, just slightly. Finally, someone who sees that without needing the file.

Rui wagged a finger. “Second, the ACL thing? Dangling leg? That’s hardcore. Super gross, also super specific. Feels like the truth. Which leaves…” His grin widened, sharp and certain. “The lie. No way you hate the cold. You walk in here like it’s a runway, wrapped up all cozy, giving off major winter goddess energy.”

She tilted her head, feigning indifference, though his words sparked something odd in her chest. “So that’s your final answer?”

“Locked in.” He rapped his knuckles on the counter. “You love the cold. You’re like, built for it. No contest.”

A slow smirk spread across her face. “Congratulations. You’re not completely stupid.”

Rui threw his hands up like he’d just scored the winning goal. “Yes! Nailed it! You heard that, everyone? I’m a genius!”

A couple of patrons at the bar rolled their eyes, but Rui ignored them pointedly, leaning in closer with a conspiratorial grin. “So… three-time Olympic gold medalist, huh? And a busted knee on top of that? Damn, sweetheart, you’re full of surprises.”

Her stomach tightened, but she masked it with a shrug. “Or maybe I just made the truths up, too. Who’s to say?”

He laughed, easy and unbothered, but there was something sharper beneath it now. Interest. Curiosity. Like he’d just been handed a puzzle and couldn’t resist picking at the edges.

“Guess I’ll have to keep playing to find out,” he said, sliding her refilled glass across the counter. “Alright, alright. My turn. Two truths, one lie.”

Yelena raised a brow, resting her chin on her palm. “This should be good.”

“Number one,” Rui said, holding up a finger, “I own this bar. Like, completely mine. No funds, no sponsors, just me, my plants, and whatever scraps I can hustle together to keep it alive. Cute, right?”

Yelena blinked at him, caught off guard. The way he said it was casual, playful; but there was no punchline at the end, no laugh chasing it down.

He lifted another finger. “Number two: I’m cursed.”

The word hit heavier than the rest. His grin didn’t vanish, but it twitched at the edge, a little brittle for half a second. Almost like his face had betrayed him.

Yelena noticed. She didn’t know what the curse was yet — though rumors had already made their way through Frostheim’s marble halls — but the way his jaw tightened and the way his eyes darted for the briefest second told her more than words ever could. If it was a lie, saying he was cursed wouldn’t have bothered him that much.

“And number three,” he finished quickly, forcing the grin wider, “I’ve always been in Obscuary. Been here since the weighing of souls on day one, baby.”

He leaned back against the counter, arms spread like he’d just dropped the hottest set of truths the world had ever seen. “So? What’s the verdict, cutie?”

Yelena studied him in silence. The bar hummed low around them, laughter and chatter in the background, but her eyes stayed fixed on his.

The first? Plausible. He had the energy of someone who’d patch holes in the roof himself rather than ask for help. The third one was obvious, safe, too smooth. She also remembered people didn’t get sorted into Obscuary by the weighing of souls. Which left the second.

Her gaze flicked to the twitch in his cheek she’d caught, the flicker in his eyes when the word cursed left his lips.

“You’re not a good liar,” she said finally, her voice certain.

Rui barked a laugh, tilting his head back. “Ouch! That’s cold, princess. You wound me.”

“You hesitated,” she pressed, ignoring his dramatics. “That second one really bothered you. You tried to bury it under the third. If that was a lie, it wouldn’t have bothered you to that extent. Plus, I wasn’t born yesterday. You can’t join Obscuary through the weighing of souls.”

His grin faltered just slightly, enough for her to see the crack again. But instead of denying it, he snapped his fingers like she’d solved a riddle. “Damn. Smart and pretty. Double threat. Alright, you got me. I’ve not always been in Obscuary.”

He winked, but the shine didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I started off in Clementia. Didn’t stick. Long story.”

Yelena smirked faintly, leaning back in her chair. “Figures. You don’t exactly scream ‘holy child.’”

He laughed again, louder this time, letting the moment dissolve back into his usual brightness. “And here I thought I blended right in with the choir boys.”

Yelena just snorted, not even dignifying that with a response despite her slight amusement.

Meanwhile, Rui tapped his fingers against the counter like he was trying to hold back a smirk. “Alright, mystery lady. If you won’t give me your name straight up, we’ll play hangman for it. One letter at a time. I’ll get it eventually.”

Yelena swirled the last of her drink in the glass, unimpressed. “What makes you so sure I wouldn’t just lie about that too?”

That laugh of his came quick and easy, shoulders shaking, ruby eyes gleaming in the bar’s dim light. “Oh, I’m counting on it. Way more fun that way.”

She downed the rest of her drink, setting the glass on the counter with a decisive clink. The burn in her chest lingered, warm, steadying. For a moment, she just watched him — he seemed a bit out of place despite literally owning the bar. Too golden, too loud, too bright. And yet, something in his grin made it hard for her to look away.

“So,” she said, tilting her head, “what’s the deal with your curse?”

The question slipped out before she could mull it over further and Rui’s easy smile faltered the tiniest bit instantly. He reached up, scratching the back of his neck, his expression caught somewhere between sheepish and guarded. “Oof. Straight for the heavy stuff, huh? That’s… a second-date kind of thing.”

Second date. Sure, whatever he said. Yelena stood, stretching her arms overhead, joints popping faintly. Her eyes flicked over him, quick and deliberate — the messy blond hair, the grin trying too hard, the way he was pretending like she hadn’t just tugged at something he’d rather keep hidden away.

“So, same time tomorrow?” she asked, voice casual but laced with challenge.

And for once, Rui was speechless. His mouth opened like he was about to toss out another line, but no words came. His grin softened instead, something akin to surprise flashing across his face.

Yelena pulled her hood up, tugged her gloves back over her fingers, and headed for the door.

“Hey!” Rui’s voice rang after her, bright and sing-song again, but thinner at the edges. “You’re really leaving me hanging without a name?”