"i found her behind a tree at the playground about four blocks down. a squirrel happened to run by and startled her, or else i would have never known she was there."

the boy regarded you with suspicion, or discomfort. he didn't look hostile, and his outstanding eyes were suppressed from fidgeting by constantly darting off to the side as you spoke.

a chest grumble barely sounded from him, almost as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn't, and his inability was a product of unwillingness rather than a congenital emotional condition.

standing behind him was a boy wearing an eye patch and an identical jacket. one of his eyes was covered, but his gaze held more subtle pressure than anyone staring at you with both eyes.

noticing sakura's reluctance to provide gratitude, he stepped up politely and smiled. "thank you so much! you're a lifesaver!"

"actually, i don't think i've seen you around town before?"

you raised a brow at the sudden appearance of a shorter boy, and then they furrowed when you couldn't tell if he had freckles. trailing your eyes up, you found it surprising that you didn't catch sight of him first when his hair was of such a bright blond color.

"they must be new, nirei," suo mused. he pointed down at your hand. "they have luggage with them, after all."

nirei looked down. as suo mentioned, sitting next to you was a brand new carry-on that, unbeknownst to him, had been used for years. somehow, your luggage never stains, scratches, or breaks; it's nothing short of a miracle!

he panicked and fumbled about before resorting to closing his hands together before his chin and apologizing for questioning you before making an observed decision.

"don't worry about it. you didn't get it wrong anyway. you haven't seen me around town before." you scratched your head awkwardly. the range of emotions shown (or not shown) by the three of them threw you off. "i was just heading home, so if there's nothing else, i will take my leave."

"a–ah! yes! of course!" nirei bowed. "welcome to makochi!"

"thanks," you said. "take care."

you departed without hearing a single word from one of their mouths. not that you minded, though. you understand some people do not take well to strangers.

continuing with your excursion through makochi as you made your way to your new apartment, where you managed to haggle the rent prices down just enough for it to suit your liking, you realized a few things.

one, compared to the city, the town shared a harmonious silence you did not anticipate enjoying so much. there were more sounds of bikes ringing than engines humming, and the atmosphere was less crowded and intrusive because fewer people were taking up the streets.

however, even in a town, you can't escape narrow alleyways and trash flying around corners.

two, most townsfolk were friendly! it wasn't to a point where strangers would greet you on the street, but most were helpful with directions and food recommendations. some even welcomed your return after hearing you were moving in.

it was likely a business tactic, but something was better than nothing!

three, the green and black jackets. the previous group of three was not the first group you saw wearing that jacket. when you entered the town, the first person you sought directions from wore an identical jacket. later, you noticed a group of them being gifted free food from a restaurant. you assumed it must be a school uniform, but somehow, it was the only uniform you've seen so far.

it was almost as if no other schools existed around the area.

every student you see wearing the uniform is a boy, too. all the reasonable possibilities (which was only one) pointed towards it being an all-boys school, which wasn't too much of an issue. you just weren't too keen on attending a school like that at the moment, even though with your lucky streak, some rules would have been bent for that to be allowed.

you could always take up the college offers (which was only one).

"at least the neighborhood is friendly," you whispered.

"hey, you!"

you stopped and widened your eyes after you turned around to find a group of men blocking the wrong way of your path. you hummed, wondering if you'd spoken too soon about the condition of the neighborhood.

"hey, me?" you questioned.

"yeah, you!" he asked, his voice a constant holler. "who else could it be?"

you pretended to look around, then scanned the men standing around him before gesturing towards them with a brief sweep of your arm. "four men are standing around you."

"oi!" another one—he has a beanie, and his hands shoved in his pockets—stepped up. "someone is being a smart ass!"

"okay...?" you scrunched your nose with displeasure. their rudeness blew straight past your head when all it occurred to you was that they made little to no sense.

"we saw you talking to bofurin just now!" the leader, you assumed, regained his spotlight by snapping the accusation. "what's your business with them?"

you pursed your lips. the town was putting your brain to work, that's for sure!

you talked to more than three people since you arrived, but you barely learned anything about them, so it wasn't possible to place 'bofurin' to a face.

you tried the method of elimination. it couldn't have been the little girl. you couldn't imagine why anyone would have issues with school boys, so you counted the three out. you learned the coffee shop owner's name to be kotoha, so it wasn't her.

"i don't know who bofurin is."

"you don't know what bofurin is?"

"oh, it's a 'what'?" you snapped your fingers as if that was helpful information. if anything, it was more confusing.

"what was the name again? sakura?"

"ah, sakura!" you slammed a fist to your palm.

it was the little girl, after all. this was a real breakthrough; these people gave you an actual name! they should have mentioned that earlier, talking about some 'bofurin' or whatever as if you were local enough to understand.

"are you her father?" you asked.

"huh?" his voice was boisterous and impatient. stepping forward to be closer to you, possibly as an intimidation tactic, but you couldn't tell; he said, "What are you mumbling about?"

you grimaced with a faint pout hanging on your lips. your next sentence was a soft complaint, "i didn't... mumble."

either way, his reaction was not up to par for a father whose daughter went missing. you had your suspicions, considering how they showed up in a group. however, you wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt that they were just friends helping to look for a missing child.

she didn't appear to have an issue with the boys you just met either, so if anything needs to be done further, these men should take it up with the police. you have decided to seal your altruism until you get home.

"look, sorry i can't help you, but i don't have all day, so i'm leaving," you said. "good luck with whatever you're trying to do."

you didn't give yourself a chance to see their response, or else you would be compelled to continue the conversation. despite the man yelling after you, you ignored him and continued walking.

clutching the handle of your luggage, you clicked your tongue when you felt a sudden lump of uneven weight, possibly caused by the uneven group and the handle being stuck in place.

you tried to fix it by barely shifting its weight. when it didn't work, you rolled your eyes and turned around while your arm swung to readjust the wheels.

"woah!"

you jumped back in shock when someone brushed past you in a stumble. when you looked closer, you recognized him as the man who yelled after you just now.

his fist was curled and facing forward, a clear indication that he was either trying to hit you or grab you, but your luggage happened to swing right when he neared and tripped him. he fell to the floor, a hoarse yell sounding from his scratched knuckles.

"hey! what did you do?"

the hollered accusation was unnoticed as you let go of the luggage and quickly neared the fallen man to check on him. you reached inside your bag, hoping to find another bandaid somewhere.

as you shifted around quickly, a piece of stray receipt from days ago fell out. you gasped, immediately bolting after it.

as you did, your body lowered to the ground with it, and you missed the arm swing from a man behind you. he yelled in surprise at the air punch, looked down to find that he was about to fall on both you and his friend, and changed the course to his body to find his face greeting a utility pole.

you grimaced in pain but didn't allow yourself to linger too long in sympathy. noticing blood sprouting from his nose, you inhaled sharply and reached for a pack of tissues inside your bag, which you knew you had.

"hold on! i have tissue–ah!" as you stood up from crouching, your head hit the chin of the third man who, unbeknownst to you, attempted to attack you after seeing his two failed predecessors. he must have been talking as he began to exclaim about biting his tongue and tasting blood in his mouth.

"i'm so sorry!" you fumbled, dropping the tissue back inside your bag as you tried to go after the screaming man so you could tell him to not squeeze any more blood out to avoid a worse injury.

a hand found its way to your ankle and caught your attention. you looked down to see the leader crawling slowly toward you, his forehead faintly scratched. you pouted; how could you forget about him?

"i'm sorry! i got you!" crouching, you grabbed his hand and pushed it off your ankle. you pulled at his arm, carelessly helping him to his feet before the sudden weight difference made you stumble backward. he lurched forward because you were still holding his arm, just in time for his face to collide with a fist.

you looked over. the fourth man in the group stood stunned. "why did you do that?"

"i… what?" he turned away from his leader to you. his brows were permanently sewn together after witnessing the altercation, and he took an accusing step toward you. "this wouldn't have happened if you had just given us an answer! this is all your fault!"

you clamped your mouth shut from explaining yourself, not because he was right but because you were frozen from seeing his fist fly towards your direction. your lack of reaction wasn't a product of fear, though. it was curiosity.

you've never been injured once in your life. ever since birth, you have been perpetually stuck in a lucky streak. it was almost like a disease.

you have never bitten your tongue, stubbed your toe, or gotten a paper cut; you have never gotten ill; balls fly past your face in p.e classes; you get every toy you want in claw machines; you blindly tested into college at fifteen because all your randomly filled multiple choice answers were correct.

you genuinely, without a morsal of doubt, wondered how it feels to be hit.

before his fist could collide with you, the man was sent flying to the wall. a boy landed on the ground gracefully. you recognized him to be the one you just met—the discomforted one.

you stared at him, watching his hair fall from the jump and his focused features relax once the threat was gone.

now that you saw him better, his look wasn't as outrageous as you initially thought.

"i would ask if you're okay, but it looks like you handled yourself pretty well," he said.

you brushed your hands together and lowered your shoulders into a sulk. he regarded you with less caution and more intrigue this time. you wondered why. "i didn't mean to do any of that."

"sakura!" nirei caught up from behind. he abruptly stopped and panted with his hands on his knees. "don't run off like that! I can't keep up–" his voice trailed off when he noticed his surroundings–"wow, you did all this already?"

sakura sniffed, his lip twitching up in unreasonable dismay. forget him bolting at the sound of hostile yelling; seeing that you managed to take down a group of men made him feel pesky.

he hadn't known anyone other than those in bofurin or other gangs with advanced fighting capabilities, so this discovery was refreshing.

refreshing, but not pleasant.

"no," sakura gestured toward you, "they did."

you waved sheepishly when nirei turned to you, and you shrunk into yourself even more when he gasped in pleasant surprise. he reached for his pocket and pulled out a small notebook.

he flipped through a surprising number of pages before closing it, and his eyes returned to you with a gleam so bright you had to look away.

"i didn't do it on purpose." you waved. "it just happened."

"either you fought them, or you didn't," sakura said.

"well, i didn't."

"that doesn't make any sense," sakura said. "how did they end up like that, then?"

"okay, sakura." your eyes squinted at his attitude. "you know, this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you. those men were looking for you."

"not anymore," he mumbled slowly, "since you fought them."

"oh my god?" you threw your arms up and chuckled in disbelief. "i didn't do anything! i was just trying to help."

"you keep saying that, but it doesn't explain why three out of five were bleeding."

"actually four out of five," you retorted as you pointed leisurely at him. "you shoved a guy into a wall."

"uhm–ah! that's common!" nirei exclaimed over your glare, his arms held high as if to catch your attention. once you look, he pipes down and scratches the back of his head, sweat drenching his hair. "some people are weary of sakura because of what he can do."

you straightened your back and hummed. the pieces weren't all here yet, but there was enough for you to make a barely informed assumption about these two: lousy students who like to pick fights with the townsfolk.

suddenly, moving here didn't seem like a good idea! but you were torn between disappointment and feeling positively agitated that this was the first unfortunate thing that had happened to you!

well, this and being rounded by five men because they were looking for sakura.

"the only thing that should be weary of you is the test papers," you said. "try going to classes for a change!"

sakura scoffed. "we go to classes and take tests too!"

"i'm sure you do, sakura."

"why are you saying my name all weird like that?" he exclaimed, moving forward to banter closer to you. "i know what you're thinking! it's not exclusively a girl's name!"

"i wasn't thinking that!" you were thinking that.

"uh... you guys..." nirei darted between you two, his fingers wiggling hopelessly before his chest as he debated his course of action. he didn't know you well enough to tell you to stop, but sakura seemed weirdly agitated about the conversation, which he figured wasn't entirely about the grievance of his name.

he looked behind him when he felt a hand on his shoulder and immediately exhaled with relief to see suo smiling down at him. the taller boy approached with a much calmer demeanor than anyone in the scene and casually got between you both.

"alright, you both," suo said. he turned to you. "here. don't lose your luggage."

"thanks." you received it. "how's the girl?"

"we brought her back to her mom." suo nodded in acknowledgment before turning to sakura. "you know, sakura. if you're curious about them, you could have just asked them to hang out with us later."

a strangled noise blurred with the pinking of his cheeks. sakura curled his fists and waved them about, protesting suo's words without sprouting a coherent sentence, but suo only smiled at you as if waiting for a response.

"has anyone ever told you how stressful you are?" you muttered.

suo shrugged. "not verbally."

"of course not." you widened your eyes into a roll. "i'll pass, though. sorry."

"no hard feelings," suo said.

however, even with all the joy littered across every street, occasionally just a little too much for him even, the best thing that he has come across happened to be something rather trivial. it was not the perfect dandelion wine he tasted at the tavern, or the magnificence of the city's architecture and scenery, or even the harmonious atmosphere that every citizen created. it was not but the windblume festival dance that caught his eyes and heart the most.

it had happened out of nowhere. the existence of music was so prevalent and obnoxious during the festival that his ears became accustomed to it, and no longer could the sound of instruments entice a reaction out of him until that moment, under the guidance of the wind and the spotlight of the sun, you began to dance.

it was a collective art form. nobody dared to start it, but once it was happening, very little would refuse.

people were being pulled into the dance circle one by one, dancing to a routine that seemed made up yet rehearsed; children were giggling in circles at the side with candies in their hands and petals around their head; bards played their instruments skillfully, appreciating the company of ransom dancers that added more joy to their music.

you—you who danced happily among your family and the sea of dandelions, you who twirled with gracefully to the sound of festive music, you who with a smile invited him to join you in the dance circle encouragingly. your arm was stretched out, reaching for him, beckoning for him, and your eyes were wide with excitement; "come dance with me!" you seemed to call.

his heartstring shivered; at the same wavelength as the string of a lyre, or the string on a violin, his heartstring shivered and sang and danced uncontrollably toward you.

and he seemed to come to a realization, a gradual revelation that pierced his body that has been aching for a taste of freedom like this; with his arms thrown in the air and his feet tapping rhythmically against the floor, with lovely and energetic people surrounding him, with his demeanor wide and open for all the see, for you to see. he realized—he remembered—that this was what it has always been about.

a chance of survival, the ability to push through, the persistence to live, the desire to love—it has always been about those.

even when he was in inazuma, even back when his safety and optimism seemed to continuously be buried six feet down into the ground, even when the despicable lightning liked to erase all the soft and tender from the nation; positivity remained, growth remained, humanity remained.

his ability to love remained, and it returned stronger than ever since the day you came into his life.

"that was fun," tohma whispered after he found his way to you at the end of the dance, his green eyes rivaling that of the setting sun.

there is always good in this world, even in the dark places.

the dandelions in the breeze served as a gentle reminder that he was at the windblume festival with you, just as you promised to bring him to when you were stuck in inazuma. the dandelions in the breeze served as a gentle reminder that you were here as it decorated your hair messily with its essence, brushing against your intertwined hands that couldn't seem to let go.

"oh, wow," you exclaimed lowly to yourself as you leaned forward to examine the hands of the very annoyed red-haired man before you. your long-term question was finally answered. "fascinating... so you do have hands!"

diluc spared not even a glance toward the limb you were so interestedly staring at. he kept quiet for a moment and peered down at you from his bed, one leg propped up and the other stretched out—a rather awkward position he had no time to get out of after he almost burned you alive for sneaking into his bedroom in the winery.

"what drunk wind blew your incompetent self here?" he asked, ignoring your remarks about his lack of real and human hands. whatever you meant by that? you were always spilling weird things out of your mouth, you might even be worse than venti, he reckoned. 

you glared up at him after hearing his mindless insult. you were only fifty percent sure (which was already a lot in your book!) diluc never actually meant those hurtful words, that they simply fly out of his mouth due to his weird need to make sure everyone around him knew that he leaves no room for unnecessary sentiment. 

being kind blatantly was not his thing, and he has no intention of being applauded for being a decent person. why that was, you couldn't be sure. you had your assumptions, but kaeya turned out far too different than diluc that you weren’t sure if you should put your finger on the assumption. you also didn't dare dive deeper into it because (a) you just weren’t invested enough, and (b) by then, it would be a family business you would hate to indulge yourself with.

"kaeya dared me to take a picture of your sleeping face in exchange for some wine. our good friend, the honorary knight's smaller friend also wanted it as a possible blackmail souvenir," you told him honestly.

diluc immediately murmured something you couldn't quite hear, but he looked more confused than annoyed when he glared down at the mattress of his bed. he grumbled something along the lines of how the roles were definitely reversed. you didn't press further about that.

"if that is what you came here for, your best bet is to leave the way you came," he said after a moment, pointing a cold hand toward his bedroom window. "you're not taking any pictures of me."

you snorted, holding up your kamera and tapping the lenses. “uh, i think i came pretty close to taking a picture of you sleeping, diluc.”

“i had woken up the second you walked through my bedroom door. you could never,” he said.

you hummed under your breath, eyeing him suspiciously. he was probably telling the truth. he barely struggled in surprise when he grabbed your hands in the dark; was it pure luck that he perfectly found where your kamera was on the first try or does diluc secretly has night vision? your guess was as good as the unknown. 

not to mention, he looked normal, just like someone who may be in the know of your intrusion. he appeared grumpy but that was just his normal state. you could barely get him out of a frown even if you pay him, mainly because he wouldn’t need your money, but also because he was stubbornly against smiling, it appeared. 

"you know, i was surprised at first. i didn't know you sleep at all! i always thought you kind of just shut down, or maybe you have stayed awake all your life," you said with a shrug, and when he deadpanned at you, you defensively waved your kamera around. "i'm sorry! i just–you don't strike me as a person who sleeps!"

"so dead, then?" diluc asked calmly, although there was very little calmness in his facial expressions, especially those judgemental eyes of his.

"not dead! just... not really human–" you paused and pressed your lips together, thinking back to what you said to him and realizing that he might have a point. then you turned to him. "you also eat, right?"

“are you leaving or not?” he asked, a hint of flare in his voice that if you looked closely, you may see fire emerging from his body.

being stubborn as ever, and knowing that diluc would never really hurt anybody he knew to be good people, you feigned thoughtfulness for a second. tapping your finger against your chin, you scrunched your nose and shook your head. setting the kamera lumine forcefully had to borrow you between your crossed legs, you flashed him a mischievous grin. 

“no,” you said. “i am getting that picture out of you!”

“like i said,” he said, “you will never.”

“fine! then i guess i will just have to sit here and wait for you to fall asleep on me,” you said, slapping your hand down on his soft mattress. “don’t try to force me out of here! i will make it way worse for you!”

diluc furrowed his brows, wondering if you meant what you said. when his questioning gaze couldn’t get even an ounce of budge from you, he could only sigh in frustration. if you planned to sit on his bed until he doze off, then you would definitely make it worse if he tries to dump you out of his bedroom through whatever means you could.

he may be a skilled swordsman and a vision bearer, but unfortunately, he was not immune to bullshits from the likes of you.

diluc closed his eyes to savor the tiniest bit of sleep he managed to get before he heard your extra loud footsteps creeping around his room. he was supposed to get a good night's sleep, which was something he hasn't had in a while because of all the business schedules and his side vigilante job.

he was supposed to rest tonight, and there came you.

there always comes you.

dilly-dally, unpredictable, the epitomie of 'knights of favonius... always so inefficient,' letting klee out of solitary confinement and causing a ruckus amongst the responsible adults kind of irresponsible, has paid for his wine at least a zero number of time kind of broke, and was just always here to ruin his mood at the tavern every single day. 

most of the time, diluc thought about you in a negative light, much like he did with everyone around him and the entirety of the knights of favonius. but there was a version of you in his head that painted you as somebody different—somebody respectful, somebody worth keeping around...

somebody he likes, perhaps.

after all, joy was never prevalent in his life. it used to be, but that was a past he has long forgotten the details of. even if he wanted to remember them now, he could only remember snippets that wouldn’t guarantee him a good nostalgia. he may just end up feeling worse at the end. the only constant influx of distraction he has now seemed to be either you or venti, and with the godly bard as his other option, he would much rather choose you. 

but it was not because that venti was too hard to confine in. you were just as hard to talk about problems with considering your optimism and fickle attitude. 

what diluc wanted was permanence; a train that never stops, a bottle of wine that continuously refills, dandelions that do not stop flying even after it reaches celestia. and venti was too understanding and abstract to be one. as interesting of a character he may be, venti knew when to leave people alone. or, occasionally, he just cared too little. after all the city of mondstadt didn’t lack a god because he was responsible. 

you, though. diluc could never pinpoint if you were as dense as you appeared to be, or if you did know how to read the room and simply chose to ignore it, but you never leave people alone. you never left him alone; you unknowingly pick a petty one-sided argument with him all the time, you get drunk at the tavern and somehow has never let anybody take you home but him, you barge into his bedroom in the middle of the night because of some stupid dare his brother made you do and you still refuse to leave despite being sleepy.

you give him a way out, whether he likes it or not.

arms crossed in front of his chest, he deadpanned as he watched your head drop lower and lower to the mattress. soon enough, you were snoring away on his bed with the gadget discarded by your feet. he watched you in silence, your cheek smushed against the surface and the intensity you always radiated lessening from your body. you looked normal now; not energetic, not talkative. just sleeping peacefully, the way he always made sure you were after carrying you home. 

diluc’s heart was finally softening under the knowledge that nobody was watching him anymore. the pessimistic monster that often emerges from him was still here, but in the face of you, it has painted itself pink and it has forgotten vengeance and retribution. in the face of you, it has been dragged out from the death it once laid and became forgiven. 

carefully laying your head down on the pillow, diluc draped the blanket over your shoulder to tuck you into his bed. after making sure you were fine and well, he placed the kamera on the desk in the room, somewhere visible you could find once you wake up, and he left for one of the guest rooms in the mansion. 

tonight was the first time in a while when he has forgotten about all the problems he’s had. something that wasn’t about wine, the family business, or the abyss order. it wasn’t the rest he wanted, perhaps it was hardly any rest at all, but he was glad he got to think about something else.

"sorry to intrude. i have been wandering around for a while now, and this is the only place where there are people with leisure time on their hands," you said politely, the laziness in your tone hopefully indicated enough that you could see what was happening before you, and you wanted no part of it. "japanese people are very busy. they don't seem to stop to answer a question."

holding up a wrinkled map, the haitani brothers spared a short glance at it and acknowledged the circles and dotted lines drawn on top with a red marker. two big circles around what guessed would be the united states and china, and a dotted line that traveled from between both countries before finally, it arrived at japan. from the looks of it, they could guess that you were a foreigner who spoke japanese, but knew not of the locations of this country.

"i just want to know how to go to ueno street. i am supposed to meet my handler there," you said, holding up the map and, without the brothers noticing, had fished out a black marker for them to write directions on.

"handler?" ran finally spoke.

rindou shot his older brother a glare—it was non-hostile but his eyes were filled with questions. people with overwhelming evidence of innocence tend to be the exact opposite, and you being not only a foreigner but also doing something as trivial as asking for directions to a shopping street felt like nothing but a spike trap to him.

"yes, handler," you nodded, glanced to the side at the brawl that continued to happen, and back at the brother with braids, "someone important to this country has a bounty on his head."

"who? the president?" ran asked carelessly as he took the map and marker gently from your hands.

you watched his droopy lids churn into an even more exhausting arch when he cast his eyes down at the map. relaxing into yourself, you ignored the familiar cries and screams of people from only a few feet away and watched as ran scribbled directions on the map.

"something like him, yes," you said. "but, as expensive as he is, nobody would dare to kill the president unless they have come to terms with all the risks."

"you talk fucking big, don't you?" rindou chimed in aggressively after he watched the distastefully calming exchange between you and his brother.

"oh, come on now, rindou," ran huffed out a laugh at the side. "learn to take a little joke."

his eyes scrunched into lines as he closed the cap of the marker, then he stuffed it in his other hand with the wrinkled map he squeezed to further disfigure. slowly, he handed your belongings back to you, seemingly without much thought to your suspicious background.

you held your hand out, unassuming as ever with only one goal in mind—get to ueno street; you have bigger things to deal with than school children who held grudges against each other. your plan went sideways when, out of the corner of your eyes, your saw ran's free hand twitched, and as quick as the wind, his arm swung up with your face as the target.

"you're not fast enough," you muttered out loud after you calmly arched your neck downward and dodged beneath his swinging arm. "i won't put it against you, though. speed is very hard to utilize without the proper training."

rindou's eyes sparkled with violence not seconds after he saw that his brother, too, felt suspicious over your far-too-coincidental arrival. the fact that you, with the most unbothered demeanor he has ever seen in an opponent with a fist flying at their face, simply ducked and dodged his brother's punch, only served to prove him correct.

he wasn't sure if you were here because of them. you could really just be a passerby who didn't know how to make an appropriate joke at the appropriate time. but, just in case you were here to cause them trouble, though—you would have picked a mighty terrible day to do so—rindou already came to the same conclusion as his older brother on that.

"i'm not here to fight–"

"the corpse is still talking!" rindou cut you off rudely as he jumped off his seat.

you pursed your lips together. you only came here to ask for directions, you just wanted to head to ueno street, you were only here because someone paid a large sum of money for a governor's head. you were not here to fight adolescents and teenagers with brutal hearts and bloodied fists.

oh lord, if you were late, you may get scolded and punished depending on which handler the organization distributed for you this time around. that was the last thing you wanted. you really needed to find a way out.

"i really... hmm..." you clamped your mouth shut as you, time and time again, stepped out of rindou's advances. your eyes trailed after him, your mind habitually began to observe his movement.

rindou found it amusing, but mostly frustrating and belittling, when you refused to attack him back. your hands still clutched the map and marker in your hands, and your eyes were focused on some point of his body; his hands? his shoulders? his torso? his legs? it seemed like you were looking everywhere on him, he wasn't sure how to catch you off-guard yet.

you moved gracefully compared to him, he could tell. not once did your arms or hands move, only your legs and body served to dodge his attacks. you haven't made a single noise either. no grunts, no groan, your feet scraping against the floor appeared to be silent as well.

calm, collected, and calculating. swift, elegant, and graceful.

you definitely knew a thing or two about fighting, so why weren't you advancing toward him? why did you keep side-stepping his arms and legs?

were you looking down on him? you were, weren't you? fucking atrocity, a foreign scrum! you thought you could come into his turf and step all over him like a boot to an ant then you've got another thing coming.

"fight me back, you bitch!" rindou shouted, his voice alerting some of the bystanders to examine the situation with curiosity.

"i'm so sorry," you apologized under your breath, your apology as insincere as when you carelessly apologized for hitting the corner of a table.

his strength was immaculate, as you could hear in the way the wind sounded around his skin whenever his limbs came close to you, but his lack of balance heavily put him at a disadvantage. your eyes trailed after his every move with calculations, the same way your trainers have done to you, and you signed inwardly at the potential lost in rindou—his strength could be complimented so well if he knew not to rely on it too much.

he already has the determination and the strength, which were naturals gifts that could be considered hard to come by, especially with someone who looked as frail as him. but he was impatient—differently than yours. he was impatient because he wanted to win, you were impatient because the fight was unnecessary.

you tilted your head to the side to avoid his knuckles. this time, your arms also reached up to take a hold of his wrist. in the nick of time, you could see his other hand coming up to attack—change of plans, then. pulling him toward you and slamming yourself into his chest, you took his second-long startlement as an opportunity to clamp a hand in his shoulder, press down to hoist your weight on his body, and jump up.

rindou groaned in surprise as his knees buckled at your weight. he instinctively reached his arm up to catch your fall—only as a means to trap or attack you. originally planning on only landing gracefully on the other side of his body and making a run for it, your route changed once more when he presented another opening to you.

taking his fist with one hand, your body still flailing in the air only seconds to being pulled back by gravity, you turn your torso so your back faced rindou. your other hand shot forward to grip his forearm tightly when your weight landed on the ground, and using gravity and your body weight as leverage, you pulled at the boy's arm and threw him recklessly over your shoulder.

rindou choked on his saliva at the pressure that zapped through the nerves of his back. there was a ring in his head from the pound that sounded when the back of his skull collided with the ground. his body was in pain, but not as bad as the fights he has gotten himself into before. you were unable to gouge how much experience he has had with enduring pain, he supposed, which was possibly the only reason why he hasn't passed out yet.

"you're very light, you can probably be swifter," you commented after one of the haitani brothers has fallen. "i'm so sorry again. i really don't like fighting kids."

or maybe because you just didn't want to hurt him in the first place. either way, it made his chest burn with annoyance.

"what the fuck did you say to me!"

you sighed. "真小气. 说你一两句也不行."

looking up from the ground after the small tantrum you pulled for yourself, you could see that the brawl had paused at the unplanned fall of rindou haitani, as well as the agitation on ran haitani's usually tranquil demeanor. you flashed a look at everyone, a lazy and nonchalant look, then you looked to ran and pursed your lips.

"i'm sorry," you said as you bowed politely to him, then you held up the map and marker you picked up from the ground. "thank you for the directions."

you apologized as you walked through the crowd of people; sliding and squishing between stunned people who forgot to open a path for you to leave, being completely clueless to their bewilderment, utterly unknowing of the power the haitani brothers held and what it meant when you so casually hauled one of them to the ground.

ran watched your back sharply, his fists gradually loosening as your back disappeared into the shadow. the joke you made about the president having a bounty on his head, he just realized it may have only been a joke to him and a serious matter to you, which only made things all the more interesting.

"what a bloody coincidence," ran mused as he approached his brother and helped him up. "i think we might have just crossed path with someone very interesting."

"can you please eat your food? they are going to get cold," kazuha mumbled after taking a sip of his miso soup.

his brows furrowed deeper when opened his eyes and found you grinning dreamily at him. your chin was resting between where the base of your open palms joined, creating an allusion to a bloomed flower with your hands. and you were looking at him attentively, as you have been doing so ever since he caught your eyes amongst all else in the crux.

"you're so pretty, kazuha," you said, hints and hints of a soft giggle trailing in the tremble of your words. "you're pretty like a maple leaf."

he closed his eyes to ignore the present. bringing his chopsticks up to his mouth, he munched on the ball of rice with a visible frown you never cared for.

once again, there was absolutely no care for poetic greatness in your words. reflecting your simple mind, your words were plain and bland—he may be pretty, but your words certainly did not meet his standards!

additionally, he knew you think he is pretty! that was all you talked about when it came to him—heck, that was the only reason why you joined the crux! because you said you wanted to chase after him!

until today, he still couldn't understand why beidou found your lack of shame and your bold honesty so hilarious and a necessary part of the fleet. he just thought it was a mistake. a big, bad mistake.

somehow, beidou liked to tease him otherwise; that this has nothing to do with the clash of word choices and careful mind between you two, that this has something else stirring in him that he wasn't admitting to himself.

she liked to tell him it was all because he has unresolved feelings boiling inside, the feelings that refused to surface because he was too busy prioritizing a non-existent goal. she liked to tell kazuha that it was, in fact, shyness and embarrassment, because he hasn't realized that he has already developed feelings for you.

kazuha has not realized the monster he would become if one day, he listens to the wind and you're not within the breeze, and suddenly he couldn't find you anymore. he has not realized the significance that fact held.

"chased them away again, i see?" laughing loudly as she would after she gulped down a mouthful of alcohol, beidou pulled up a chair and sat down at your spot after she saw you stood up and ran off to patrol around the deck. "with the way flowers spill out of your mouth, i would expect you to be better at getting yourself a lover, you maple boy!"

kazuha deadpanned at the nickname, completely disregarding the fact that beidou almost slapped his heart out of his mouth. he scratched the back of his head to fix his ponytail, then he mumbled, "don't call me maple boy."

"oh? so [name] can say it but your captain can't?"

"i don't want anyone to say it."

beidou drank a few sips of alcohol as she squinted her eyes suspiciously at kazuha. pulling the bottle away from her face, she huffed dramatically before waving dismissively at him. she looked more serious now as she stood up and gave him a nod.

"alright then, i didn't know you dislike the name that much," she said, pointing over at your shadow on the deck. "i know they barely listen to you, but i'm sure if i talk to them, they would stop calling you that so i'll be on my way."

kazuha tapped his feet against the wooden floor. uneasiness was churning inside him heavily—swirling and swirling, bringing wind and mud together to craft a monster that seemed terrified of what the future could bring, what a future without you calling him your maple boy could bring. he closed his eyes to suppress it, his fingers fidgeting the further beidou's footsteps fade with the wind.

you would listen to her. you would call him kazuha, like everybody else, even though you were not everybody else. you have never just been everybody else.

he is your maple boy. he is not everybody else's maple boy, just yours.

"beidou–ah!" he jumped when he found the captain staring at him a few feet away, her boots in her hands and her silent steps treading the ground.

she laughed out loud at kazuha's shocked and wronged expression while she loudly approached him again. she sat down and began putting her boots back on slowly as she smiled to herself.

"i knew you cared about that name!" she said. "i also anticipated that look of constipation on your whenever you try to deny your feelings for [name]."

"i do not look–captain beidou, please!" kazuha gasped in defeat.

she laughed once again, bold and strong and secure. once her boots were laced up, she crossed her legs and kept silent as she took a good look at kazuha—her great companion, her strong and reliable companion, her companion who has finally found someone he could unconditionally seek comfort in.

"they are the only person who could break your composure, do you know that?"

she knew, everyone else in the fleet knew, and mostly, kazuha himself knew.

as calm and collected as he was, the possible turn of a monster's soul lay just within a snap of your fingers whenever you needed him to; violent, brutal, protective, and merciless. the treasure hoarders and the fatui learned of it the hard way when they thought you would be an easy target for your utter lack of combat ability, completely neglecting the pair of maple red eyes that glowed and glare in your shadow.

just a gust of wind, a cry for help, threatening footprints that trailed after your whereabouts—kazuha would turn. gone with the wind his composure and gentleness, the monster inside him crashes and burns and scratches until his undoing was done by those reassuring hands of yours against his cheeks.

"oh, hey!" you greeted when he climbed up the crow's nest up on the mainmast. grinning, you waved briefly. "my maple boy is here! what's up?"

kazuha softened.

he could be undone so easily. just three words from you and his claws, his sword, his knowledge fly, up and away into abandon.

the wind blew. with your scent, it brought him peace from his past and future. nothing about any time could be better than this moment, it felt to him, where your hair danced to the air and your relaxed smile complimented the sky. and when you called to him—maple boy, my maple boy—there wasn't much to say or think.

with all his literary excellence, the only words he could muster in his mind were three.

the second time he killed you was a choice. he gave you not a minute to explain yourself, even though you had wasted the minute asking questions about his identity and the skull-filled area instead of giving him any valuable information about yourself. he had been fed up, he was never a man of patience, so he killed you with a wave of his hand and returned to his dull life alone on his throne.

the third time he killed you—he did not kill you. there was no third time; people liked to say the third time's charm but sukuna believed no such superstition. he killed you twice already and each time, you came back unscathed, both your body and your memories. whether he liked it or not, killing you for the third time would do neither you nor him any benefit, so he kept you alive.

you were afraid of him. he could tell, and he meant for things to be that way until he realized it served as a misfortune on his part. in order to understand this mystery—your sudden appearance into his domain, as well as your inability to leave it and his inability to kick you out—he has to gain some piece of information about you, but you were too shaken up from being murdered to talk to him at all.

sukuna's patience was reaching a breaking point and he thought about torturing it out of you, but he understood that humans are fragile, way more fragile than your typical jujutsu sorcerer. he could accidentally kill you and you would return with no scars and more unwilling to converse with him than before. then it was the waiting game all over again.

he wasn't planning on going through such a dull ordeal again, so he left you be and waited for you to calm yourself down.

the first time you talked to him, you asked him a question.

"are you going to kill me?" you asked him.

sukuna peered down at you from his throne. small, frightened, curled into a ball with no desire to touch the skeletons at his feet, but you looked up at him out of politeness.

he scoffed, displeased. "no, but i always can."

the second time you talked to him, it was to exchange a brief introduction.

"ryomen sukuna," he hummed curtly then he nudged his chin toward you. "your turn."

you shuffled up to your knees and sat down on your heels. your fingers fidgetted at your lap as you timidly peered up at his tattooed, disinterested expression.

"[full name]," you said with a nod, unable to meet his eyes. "nice–nice to meet you, sukuna-san..."

the third time you talked to him, you flinched.

"ma–may i ask you two questions... if i can...?" you asked, for the first time standing up to face him directly.

sukuna leaned away from his propped-up arm. after taking a better look at you, accessing your figure analytically despite having seen you move around slowly for days already, he shoved his hands into the sleeves of his robe and he suddenly jumped down from his throne to stand before you.

you pursed your lips nervously over his looming figure, face heating up with terrible anxiety while your eyes darted down to the watery ground. oh, his presence has been so overwhelmingly deadly that you forgot your white tennis shoes were stained red and your pastel ankle socks remained wet. you did not dare to complain, not even in your head.

"i'll allow it," he said.

"where am i?" you quickly asked.

"an innate domain," he replied.

you have questions, but you decided not to ask. you only nodded after breathing out a soft sigh to calm your nerves. this man constantly sounded condescending, he was kicking open your comfort zone without actively doing anything that would make you uncomfortable.

"okay..." you said, "thank you."

"aren't you going to ask me another question?" he stated with a raise of his brow. "you wanted to ask me two questions."

you gulped, blinking hopelessly at the air as a grimace appeared on your face. "the first question was if i can ask you two questions, and the second one is about where i am... so that makes two."

oh, a meticulously cautious one, and somewhat humorous too he would give you that. sukuna scoffed loudly, but it was less out of annoyance and more out of disbelief of your incredible dullness. however, as plain as you were, he has grown accustomed to your presence; the scent of fear that bounced off of you and the fact that he cannot kill you at will.

"you must be dying to know what this place is, are you not, you brat?" sukuna asked.

when he saw the flashes in your eyes, he knew he had you down through and through. all you were was but someone who was too afraid to say what they want, which was just as he expected from you. you wouldn't cause him trouble, you never could.

reaching his hand out of his sleeve, he stayed silent despite seeing the way you flinched with your eyes shut at his raised hand. his movement had been slow, but that was an involuntary response, an instinct that he didn't craft into you. he wondered what it was.

"you can ask me three more questions," he said as he pushed the heel of his palm against the curve of your head. he was gentle at first, then he clamped his hand down on your head as he bent his waist to meet your eyes. he laughed. "i'll allow it."

he could keep you here. he has no choice but to keep you here, and he would kill you once he realized he has the ability to. but for now, perhaps he could act a little civil, something like a human being but one that people would hate to the core.

except he was met with a little obstacle in the way, which was that you were no bad company.

the first time sukuna gained a liking toward you was when you asked him a peculiar question.

"sukuna-san," you called one time when there was only silence within the innate domain.

you sat on a bed of skulls, one that you tentatively asked the king of curses to make you so you wouldn't have to lean on the rib-cage structure and sit in water for slumber.

he denied it at first. calling you names and threatening you about ever requesting something from him—a bed in his domain? fucking atrocious. but your insomnia was killing you; you hated the blood water and your neck burned whenever you wake up having it arched at the worst angle possible.

he did not grow soft. he just made one so he didn't have to watch you sleep in his peripheral vision.

"hmm."

"why do you think curses exist?"

he raised a brow at you. "did i not teach you that before?"

"you did, sorry," you nodded, "then do you believe in god?"

"where the fuck is this coming from, you brat?"

"from where i came, god is good. but from what i am seeing, whether from where i came from or here, everything goes against that value," you muttered loudly as you pulled at your fingers. "cursed spirits harm people. if i can argue that way, i think cursed spirits are harmful within themselves."

"if god is good, and god is real, why would this happen," you said. "why should we feel negative emotions? why do we have the ability to create cursed spirits? why do curses like you exist?"

he furrowed his brows in irritation. have you reduced him to mere curses? have you reduced him to nothing but a brainless being that only takes joy in the suffering of others? no matter how he approached your words, he felt infuriated that you could minimize his importance to simply being a bad person.

he was much more than a bad person, much more than just a pain! he has ideals, he has goals and ambitions, he has wit and strength! he has anger and malevolence and power beyond which your soul could ever contain and endure! he was ryomen sukuna, the strongest curse in a thousand years and more!

he will fucking kill you.

"i'm really glad you're here, though," you finished off softly, an unknowing smile on your face as you rubbed your thumbs weakly together.

he will kill you.

"for a long time, i was told my anger and hatred aren't real. that they don't and should not exist, and i learned to bury them to the ground so they never appear on the surface again," you said, your innocent smile audible to his ears and making his chest twitch with guilt.

"cursed spirits' existence is proof that my negative emotions are real. they may be a problem, but i am not crazy for having them because they're here. they became something, they're here and alive."

he will... he will kill you.

"i just think it's unfair to put the blame on cursed spirits and cursed energy alone when the society's standard guarantees the manifestation of them," you said. "if my anger got out to the world in the form of a monster and it hurt someone, i'll forgive it. i will forgive myself."

he...

"you don't need to hear this, i wish i had your confidence, but i have to say it," you looked up and smiled at him, "i'm a little glad you're here, sukuna-san."

he will kill–he will ki–

the second time, he went stoic.

mahito was too smart for his own good. the first thing he noticed when he entered the soul within yuji's body was the way sukuna has the collar of your shirt clutched in his hand and your body pulled close to his side. it was a glance, he had one small glimpse of you both before he was kicked out of the domain.

your face was riddled with tears—crying, disappointed, and frustrated, but why? for the transfigured human whose name mahito almost forgot, or because sukuna just had one of the most sadistic outbursts you have ever witnessed.

and sukuna, the king, the lord, the almighty—didn't he look annoyed. well, not annoyed, per se. angry, mad, overwhelmed, knowing, protective. very, very, very protective; glowing eyes that glared at mahito's patched up face, fingers that gripped at your shirt so tightly he could rip the fabric apart, an aura that was ready to spit any moment if mahito so much as reach a finger toward your direction.

you meant something to ryomen sukuna. mahito realized that, so the second time he entered the innate domain, he killed you.

right before his eyes, with a cunning and triumphant smile, your neck cracked and your skin broke, and mahito tore your head off just before he was once again beat out of the domain.

sukuna tried to heal you. he tried to seal your head back to your lifeless body, time and time again pushing your decapitated head against your haphazardly cut neck. but his reverse curse technique wasn't healing you. your skin refused to piece itself back together, you refused to come back to him. time passed and he was getting mad, he was going batshit crazy trying to force himself out of this body.

bastard! bastard! bastard! he was supposed to kill you! he was supposed to be the one to kill you! he would murder that patch-faced piece of shit! he would kill mahito! and he would destroy the whole world, light it on fire and kill all that wasn't worthy of his time! he would jump universes, light-years, the bloodstream of the galaxy to find you and bring you back to him. he would—

"sukuna-san, i'm sorry i took a while! i thought you were fighting–holy shit, is that me?"

the third time, sukuna admitted to himself.

"what kind of flowers do you like, sukuna-san?" you asked, voice drowsy and your legs dangling after you climbed on one of the bones of the rib-cage structure.

"why does it matter?" he asked from his throne, eyeing you carefully.

your were a clumsy idiot. you could fall anytime.

"it doesn't, but it's flowers," you mumbled with your chin leaning against the bone, eyes threatening to close. "sukuna... sukuna..."

"what?" he snapped.

"i like lilies, the red ones," you said with a silly grin. "will you visit me when i die? sukuna... will you bring... mmm... bring red lilies..."

he looked ahead. your death; your grave, decorated with red lilies, protected and preserved with his curses. your death—he gritted his teeth. he refused to think about it. it was a waste of time.

or maybe he simply hated the idea of your death.

sukuna has not gone soft. he was irredeemable; a killer, a curse, a tragedy to descend upon mankind. he was not good and he never would be, nor did he ever have the intention to be good.

still, from you, there was proof that he could be more. what was left of his being; his anger and his torture, what was left within the gaps of his hell, the rare softness that once was there, belonged to you now.

you were the vessel that pocketed all that he could potentially become if he wasn't born to be ryomen sukuna, a version of him that you have witnessed. within you, there was proof that he did not only exist to hurt people, but also to validate madness and pain, to acknowledge passion in its murderous wakefulness. within you, there was proof that within himself, there are pieces of what it means to be human and alive.

hearing your soft breath, sukuna looked up to find you asleep with your head against the bone. your arms barely supported your weight and you were threatening to fall off as you dozed with faint snores. he stared at you, his fingers twitching, then he finally waved his hand so he could bring you away from the ribcage and to where he sat.

he paid no mind to subtlety when he set you on his lap. his hand supported your back while he kept your head pressed against his shoulder. his other arm went around your body, preventing you from falling off the throne made only for him to sit on. when he was done adjusting to the new sitting position, he relaxed.

brushing the hair away from your face, he stared down at you with disinterest, but his heart pumped and pumped for you to be warm and well, his arms tightened for you to sleep soundly.

"i will bring you all the red lilies you want," he whispered, the back of his finger gliding past your soft cheek. you did not smell like fear when you fall asleep, you did not smell like fear now even when you looked at him. "i will allow myself that."

you have yet to take him seriously whenever he brings it up during lunch when you force him to eat with you, or during late-night strolls when you force him to walk you home because you obviously have not been fighting monsters on your own, or during surprise morning attacks when you fail to sneak up on him in wangshu inn and he lightly smacks you across the head as a warning!

you never called him, not even when you were barely grazing past death. xiao was very hell-bent on reminding you of his existence and his strength; he kept telling you that he could help, that he was strong. and he kept hinting that even if there were more than one voice in his head, he would always choose you. you smiled at him every time as his words leave your ears with the winds.

xiao was left helplessly waiting for you to finish your commissions every day, praying silently to the archons that you would walk through the doors of the inn unscathed and bubbly, hoping silently to himself that he would not have to witness the blood that poured from your head and the collapse of your limping figure again.

xiao was left nervous, with a tinge of frustration because he could not figure out why you refuse to call his name, and why was it that when you did for once, you were not in actual danger.

"woah, that was quick!" you laughed when xiao landed on the floor.

you had been curious about how things would unfold if you do call his name. you wondered how he could make his way to you in time to help? did he have some secret teleporting power you never knew about? or was he just so fast that even the wind couldn't catch up with him? there was all but one method to do: put yourself in danger.

"you just wooshed here!" you exclaimed with excited eyes as you kicked your legs, causing xiao to stumble with your movement as he held onto your body. "did you teleport? i never see you teleport!"

he was visibly angry, yet you continued to joke about the previous incident that has his soul scared out of his body.

he had jumped off the roof of the inn so quickly when he heard your voice in his head, he might have caused a dent or burst a hole through the wooden plates.

the blade of the unknown—the fact that he has no idea what was happening to you or what you were going through—cut across xiao's senses when he soared through the sky following the direction of your voice. he was blinded with rage and anxiety; rage because he couldn't find you quicker than he wanted, anxiety because he let you, his heart, roam out there alone and he couldn't protect you when you need help.

all that agitation just for you to satisfy your curiosity.

xiao was glad that you were safe and happy, but he felt that his anger was still justified because he wasn't happy. he was not happy at all that you would go so far as to throw yourself off a cliff just to test if he can actually hear you.

"this isn't funny, mortal."

the deep grunt in his voice made you break out of your excitement. you glared at him faintly, feeling wronged that he used that tone on you, and you quickly slipped out of his grasp by pushing at his shoulders. xiao's eyes fumbled a little at your action, surprised, but he stood up when you were back on the ground and he frowned at the dissatisfied way you looked at him.

"after everything we've been through, i think i deserve a name friendlier than 'mortal,'" you confessed firmly. "don't you agree?"

xiao crossed his arms and looked to the side dully. he heaved a sigh in distress, not wanting to give you more ammunition to break his walls. you and your refusal to accept the cynical aftermath of his tragic past would kill him if this karmic debt doesn't—ha, talk about karmic debt! the worst problem he has right now is not demons or monsters but some human he has developed feelings for! what a turn of events!

"exactly what have we been through?" he asked in a questioning huff.

you widened your eyes at him, bewildered that he even had to ask the question. you two weren't exactly war allies or demon-slaying partners, but you two were friends. solid friends. friends that eat meals together and walk hoke together, friends that chat and see each other daily. you two were friends, and by the looks of it, you might even be the closest friend xiao has.

but, of course, he would never agree to that.

even if his heart felt the same way, xiao could never admit it verbally that you pose a great deal of importance to him. if he says it then it becomes real, overwhelmingly real. if he says it then the world knows, the whole world knows. he cannot allow more ammunition for his karmic debt to hurt him, so he hides his feelings behind his cynicism for human relationships and mundane feelings.

"this is why i will never call for your help," you said through a glaring grimace, disappointed in his choice to remain silent even after your obvious hurt. "you obviously do not want to help me."

xiao scrunched his nose slightly and uncrossed his arms. he followed you when you had turned and stomped away. "that is incorrect. i am willing to protect you–"

"but you won't be my friend," you gritted out as you abruptly turned around, failing to startle the adeptus. you stared at him, visibly upset. "i don't mind if you take precaution against other people, but i have known you for so long, xiao. i deserve the friend title, at least!"

unwavered by his troubles, xiao remained calm when he replied, "you don't understand why i cannot befriend you."

you breathed out a soft, bitter laugh. the way xiao's eyes followed your every move went unnoticed by you because of how agitated you were feeling, but the truth was that his gold eyes trailed after every muscle of your face, marking down your expressions in his head and how they kept kicking him in the chest for making you so down and unhappy.

"no, i do understand. i understand that something happened to you in the past that led to your cautiousness," you said, pursing your lips together. "but do you have to be like this?"

not even a single person, not even a single exception? must you do that to yourself, xiao? must you be so cynical about friendships? must you punish time for trying to heal you? must you plunge yourself further into loneliness by closing the doors to your neglected heart?

xiao stared at you. your eyes flashed back at him, putting him in a chokehold not even the evil archon managed to chain him to.

amidst the stirring affection in his chest, he recognized that he has a reason for acting like this. his aloofness wasn't chosen, per se, it was trained and compromised. he needed to be this or else he will get you killed, he needed to be this or else he will get hurt again.

"yes," he answered grimly. he is doing this for the both of you.

"i will only call for you when you accept me as your friend," you announced clearly this time, "because i refuse to call for a stranger at my most vulnerable time."

you turned around to leave and xiao let you go.

he knew you enough to know that any attempt to talk back to you would be futile. your mind was set; you are not going to call him even if you're stuck in an unbearable situation.

did he think it was petty of you to put yourself on the line like that? yes, petty and kind of stupid, but he wouldn't say anything about it.

you would come around eventually, you always did. a day later you would revert to your usual self—loud, annoying, talkative, in ways that quietly endeared him, and this whole conversation would be buried deep and forgotten.

buried deep and forgotten.

the way xiao's mind blanked out was solid proof of how the previous, semi-one-sided argument you two had was, as he expected, buried deep and forgotten. except it was by him and probably not so much by you.

dragonspine was not a place he would voluntarily run to. most of the time, he stayed in liyue and operate there; his priorities lay in liyue and its people, after all. although, that was not to say he has never glared at the mysterious and icy mountains for a prolonged amount of time. something about that place simply irks him, it has before and it certainly would now.

he found it hard to be near you, and it wasn't because he couldn't stand the metallic stink of your blood but the familiar smell of nightmares flaring off your head. he could see your fears, they were being manifested into forms of dreams he used to eat, and xiao was trying his best not to succumb to the pain of his past mistakes.

you called for him, only a moment too late.

"i know i said..." you coughed, pressing your palm against your abdomen when you felt a graze of pain. looking hazing at xiao, who knelt a few steps away from you with caution, you said, "i chickened out, sorry."

you stood by your words until the last minute. the frostarm lawachurl was not something you couldn't handle, but you never thought it would throw you off the edge to run away from a fight, and neither did you anticipate that you would be pierced by your own weapon. a straight shot to the stomach, clean through and painful.

you had laid there for a minute. wondering if you should have called for xiao when you were falling. there was fresh blood on white snow, sunshine on snow, a bitter laugh from you when you realized he would probably scold you for being careless. and then you realized you didn't want to die alone in the mountains, neither did you want people to find your body weeks and weeks after you dissolved into nothing.

xiao wanted to save you, he wanted to take you away from the mountains. but he knew better than to be too close to you now—he could go back to his older days, he could go back to eating dreams. the ones in your head smelt all too delicious.

"silence, huh. that's cold," you heaved when he stayed quiet.

turning to look up at the sky, your sight draining away slowly, you felt your fingers twitch and you felt like you wanted to be held.

"xiao."

he looked up from the ground. you peered down at him, your hand moving slowly away from your side to extend toward him.

"hold my hand."

"i can't." he hated your voice. it was too breathy, it didn't sound like you.

"i don't care–" you strained out, brows furrowing as you open and shut your hand at him. "hold my hand, xiao. i'm dy–i am dying."

your eyes flashed weakly at him.

you put him in a chokehold not even the evil archon managed to chain him to. 

he couldn’t refuse.

moving closer to you, he carefully reached out for your hand and clasped it in his tightly. the smell of your nightmares overwhelmed his senses immediately, stirring a war in his instincts—eat them, don't eat them! eat you, don't eat you! green–black flashes emitted from his body, glowing and swaying in the midst of his debate with his sanity—eat the nightmare! eat your dream! devour you until you are nothing! be the evil, sin, be the evil!

"thank you, xiao," you sighed with a squeeze of your hand then, content that he sat beside you.

the demon mask on his face cracked halfway and crumbled into lights. there was a moment of shock, but the expression drained away as quickly as the green-black hue vanished back into his body when he saw that you have passed with your hand in his.

xiao gave himself a moment to process the end of your relationship; you have passed. if he could, he would say you have chosen to abandon him without teaching him how to live in a world within you, but the nightmares that lingered in your head told him you were just as afraid of your death as he was.

he stared at you. your eyes were closed, but he imagined how they would be if you were alive, and you put him in a chokehold no others manages to chain him to.

pulling you against him, he let the scent of nightmare consume him while he pressed his mouth to the top of your head.

gojo hummed with intrigue. he did not loosen his grip around your wrist. instead, he raised your arm and took a step back to examine your shorter figure. he rubbed his chin in thoughts, the pink paper bag of mochi falling to his elbow; the way your yearning eyes landed on the printed picture of mochis was not lost on him.

"yes, yes, i can see," he said with a dramatic nod. he pointed at your face then, making circular motions with his index finger. "you have very angry eyebrows, they remind me of someone. you also have very angry eyes, which also reminds me of someone–oh! ha! your scowl reminds me of someone–"

the smile on his face did not fade one bit when you threw a punch at his face with your free hand. he blocked your fist with his hand, or, well, kind of his hand. he laughed at your confusion, your exhausting gaze relaxing for a second to examine the forced gap between his palm and your knuckles.

the second flick in your eyes—a realization, a realization that you were facing a jujutsu sorcerer, went unnoticed by gojo.

so, retrospectively, he already knew you were sneaking up behind him. you thought you got lucky when he decided to slow down his pace (his height is a hassle; you had been trying to keep silent as you kept up with his normal walking pace), but turned out he was just waiting for you to make a move. for what? you didn't know, nor did you care to know. you just felt humiliated that you walked right into his palm as he wanted.

you really picked the wrong target.

"five seconds backward," you whispered to yourself and snapped your fingers using the captive hand.

gojo raised his brows when he felt a rush of cold down his spine. he was not sure what you did, but he knew it had something to do with a reverse technique of sort. whatever it was, ultimately, he could tell you were trying to reverse his infinity without explicitly knowing how it worked, which meant you would fail.

except you didn't, per se.

gojo put some strength into his hand when your fist collided with his palm; a weak force—you have not been eating well. he closed his fingers around your fist and tightrned his grip on your other wrist, preventing you from making another escape plan.

"ten seconds backward," you whispered and snapped your fingers again.

gojo's lips quirked up with interest when he found his limbs moving back to where they were ten seconds ago, which were shoved in his pockets while he waited for you to try and take his wallet.

you were not trying to reverse his limitless, per se. you were trying to rewind to a time when it was not activated yet.

"a time controlling technique," he mused loudly as he watched as you detached yourself from him, spun on your heels, and took off.

his head followed your back; you run fast for a starved child, but given, anyone runs fast when faced with a threat they knew they couldn't combat. giggling under his breath, he turned and jogged down the path you ran toward so he could catch up to you.

those tearfully annoyed eyes of yours were delightful to see when he reappeared in front of you. you stumbled back and dropped down to the floor with a groan. gojo smiled down at your fallen state, waiting for you to get up in silence while keeping his hands in his pockets.

"i believe you have something that belongs to me, angry kid," he said as you stood up.

you huffed with annoyance as your eyes glanced around you. ah, you were still trying to find a way out until the last minute, but it seemed you have run out of seconds.

gojo's smile faded and he put on a playful pout. stomping forward, he poked at your cheek and whined, "hey, hey, hey! i am talking to you, angry kid!"

you swatted his hand away with a click of your tongue. "shut up, blind bat!"

"blind bat! ah! satoru gojo takes five million point damage!" he pressed his hands over his heart and exclaimed animatedly. "it is not my fault i was born without eyes! especially those pretty, big blue ones with incredibly thick lashes–"

"oh my god, here, here!" you rolled your eyes as you fished his wallet out from your pocket. he probably knew you grabbed it when you were doing it anyway. you threw it at him just for him to catch it perfectly. "have your stupid wallet back, asshole."

gojo sighed a little as he put away his wallet. he furrowed his brows and tilted his head. somehow you could see what kind of expression his eyes were making.

"you wanted to steal my wallet first," he said.

"you should have let me go after confronting me."

"and let someone with your curse technique slip away?" he questioned rhetorically, shrugging his shoulders before he stood up straight again and shook his head. "not a chance, angry kid. and stop giving me that poppy face, i hate it."

judging by the way you fight just then, even though it was only a brief showcase, you would likely be put in grade four or five. you have no skills nor strength, but you knew to run when you have to and you seemed to utilize your curse technique just fine. if you could be trained to reach your full potential, you may jump to a grade two, and tokyo could use some extra hands.

oh, he sure was excited just wondering to what extent your control of time could be. also, your technique seemed to revolve around numbers, which reminded him of a certain someone again.

you looked him up and down when he grinned to himself, unable to relax despite not feeling any malice from him.

he really could see you, but how? and who was he anyway? you have never met another jujutsu sorcerer before, you have only read of them in your late mother's diaries.

"my name is gojo, satoru gojo. a teacher at the tokyo jujutsu high," gojo suddenly said, reaching his hand out. "you should come by and join us."

you glanced down at his hand, then back up at him. gojo smirked at the length of your consideration; he has you hooked.

"no."