Lycoris Radiata

I'm Phoebe, 17 years old, she/her and I like jellyfish. I like to create my own OCs in each fandom that I know and write stories about them.

Something you should know:

All OCs are created by me, so I do not accept any copyright infringement without my permission and consent, even my stories.

All the stories in the fandoms with my OCs are a completely different story from the original. (You can consider it as an AU)

Some of my articles will contain warnings, please read them carefully before reading the rest.

If you feel uncomfortable with my articles, my own creation and stories, please leave peacefully.

Do not insult or curse in my posts or others. I will be kind enough to ask you to leave in the first time, but definitely not the next time.

The original characters from my world might be OOC and don't sound like them.

Sorry if I'm being too wordy, I just want to make sure you all understand what I mean and make sure you all feel comfortable and happy.

If you want to try designing my characters with your imagination, I can send you a detailed article describing them.

All paintings are welcome here.

⚠️Warning: Mention about violence, killing, police's corruption system.

📌Note: The story have nothing to do with my POV about justice (maybe). This is just for character development. I wrote this one quite a long time ago, and OC that i mentioned also made two years before now. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the story.

(*￣▽￣*)ブ

....

“What are you doing?” I asked, standing in front of the dark alley at the corner of the street. On the cold ground, blood was everywhere. On the walls, on the ground, they were splattered and scattered in dark red streaks. The other person held a crowbar in his hand, looking up.

Of course, this was not a strange thing for this area. Under the colorful LED lights, the smell of fresh blood, guns, explosions or kidnappings were common. This place was rarely noticed, usually only notorious criminals or drug dealers used as a trading place. Murder? How many times has the news of someone being killed by this person or that person been famous on the morning news? In the end, the perpetrator was acquitted for some trivial reason, and the victim’s family cried like rain for no reason. I was sick of hearing it.

“...”

Silence. No answer.

I spoke again. “I’m talking to you, young man.” He was still standing there, his back bent, his body slightly bent. Blood dripped down the crowbar. The victim below him was motionless, lying on his back. I also stood still, afraid of agitating him, trying to get a good look at the person below. Wait, if I looked closer, wasn’t this Michael Elander – the murderer who raped young girls to death and hung them on the wall as a display? He had been cleared of all charges because of his mental illness record in the hospital, and was now released. I noticed that the young man seemed to have used the crowbar’s hook to repeatedly hit him on the head. His face was fine, but the top of his head was already showing bones, and it seemed like the bones were starting to break. I sighed. The other guy’s anger had exceeded its limits, and it was shown through his hits, which were all very powerful. The victim's family, or just a dark web hero looking for attention and recognition? I don't know. I don't care.

"You...aren't afraid of me?"

"Huh?"

His words surprised me. Afraid? I've seen more dead bodies than you.

"Why do you ask?" I smiled, putting my hands in my coat pockets.

"As you can see, I'm killing people." He exhaled as if it were a matter of fact. And yes, he was killing people. It wasn't a statement, it was a threat. "Shouldn't you be screaming and running to the police by now?"

"I don't have time for that, kid." I laughed. "Are you going to let me scream? Or slash me first? Or let me run away and call the police? Don't make me laugh, kid. That crowbar will fly at my head before I can even say a word."

"...I won't stop you." He walked closer to me, finally stopping in front of me. A young man of about 23 years old, tall and toned, who worked out regularly. His legs were quite flexible, as if he had done a lot of running. His dark clothes did not show any blood stains. But the most special thing was his eyes, sharp and intelligent, but lacking in light. Based on these, it could be guessed that he had a rather difficult job, requiring high skills and physical endurance, such as... being a police officer.

“I don’t kill innocent people.” He said firmly, throwing a disgusted look at the motionless person. I sighed, took out a cigarette, put it in my mouth and lit it. Turning my legs, I backed up to the wall, my back against it. Taking a light drag, I put the cigarette out and exhaled. “Micheal, right?”

“Huh?” The young man looked at me, his expression clearly showing disbelief. I explained. “Don’t worry, I’m just someone who likes to read newspapers and watch the morning news. That man Micheal already killed six people this month right?"

I smile as the man looks at me in horror. "I can recognize just by looking at their face, aren’t you avoiding that part so that when you find out, people can identify the body faster?”

“Why are you...” His hand gripped the crowbar tightly, trembling slightly. Why did he react like that? Wasn’t it obvious? I fiddled with the cigarette on my fingertips for a long time, then put it back in my mouth.

Clang

The sound of metal clashing was right next to me. He grabbed the body of the crowbar, but it was stuck straight into the wall. I could hear the cracking of the brick wall and the bending of the beam due to the strong impact. I raised my eyebrows and looked at him. “What else?”

“How…do you know?” The young man breathed out each word with difficulty, his heavy breath blowing on my face. There were only two things that I was paying attention to right now. One, he was invading my personal bubble. Second, he was standing too close, the stench of sweat and blood was seriously damaging my hearing. Disgusting!

“Can you please move away? The smell of your body and that guy’s blood mixed together makes me nauseous.” I took out my cigarette and blew air into his face. It seemed like the bitter and poisonous smell made him back away. “Nothing, just guessing from experience.”

….

“....You won’t call the police?” He lowered his head, eyes on the ground. I shook my head. Did he really think what I said just now was empty? I didn’t have time to take on more debt. “No, it’s not necessary. I don’t want to make a fuss, at least not for myself. The body will be discovered soon. Besides, a guy like him has already received his retribution, so it’s worth dying like this. I won’t have to worry about missing person reports or perverts lurking around.”

Silence again. This time, I decided to speak first.

“Let me ask, what was your purpose in killing this person?” I puffed on my cigarette.

“...For justice.” The young man looked at me with a pained expression. “My sister was raped by him, becoming one of the victims in his collection. As a police officer, I was at the scene immediately and what awaited me was my sister’s naked corpse standing like a doll in a glass cabinet.”

Bingo.

“I witnessed the faces of the perpetrators who despised the police, the tear-stained faces of many families. The law does not protect people, it still lets them kill others. So what was it born for? To mock those who blindly follow the so-called justice like us?” He held his head in pain, the bad memories began to flood back like a film in reverse, without end. He let go, exhaling one last sentence like a comment on the life and ideals he had devoted his heart to pursuing. “What justice? Damn it… In the end, the law is the most disgusting and ridiculous thing that ever existed.”

“Don’t say that.” I spoke up. “The laws here may be stupid, but the laws in other countries are surprisingly respected and taken seriously.” I pressed the cigarette butt against the wall, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it.

“So what? I live in this country, how does it relate to other places?” He asked, his voice somewhat irritated. I continued. “The laws you have to curse are of this country. Don’t speak in general terms, it’s easy to misunderstand.”

I put my hand on his head, then quickly removed it, and walked quickly to the end of the alley. Before leaving, I asked.

“Hey, do you want to kill murderers who have been released without their right to do so?”

“Yes.”

“Will you kill them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To pursue justice that the law cannot, to protect the innocent.”

“Really?”

“I swear it with my life.”

....

“Remember what you said today.” I said, my voice cold as ice. “When it comes to killing, everyone is disgusting, their hands are stained with the same blood. But it’s better to let straw heroes like you punish them, this society is in chaos. However, the more you are tainted, the more you kill, the more you will kill yourself every day. The person you once cherished and loved will no longer exist when you walk on the path of sin. Your nature will gradually break down with the number of times you kill, little by little, until one day it can no longer be broken, you will go crazy. At that time, hunger will gnaw at you, guilt, remorse, the smell of blood and flesh will haunt you, making you addicted to it and lose control of yourself. At that time, you will kill innocent people.”

I looked at the young man one last time, as if to engrave his image in my mind. I gritted my teeth and threatened, no, this was the truth. He had already signed a contract with death.

“If one day, you dare to break your oath, betray the purpose you dare to follow when starting a new path...." I didn't know what expression I made, but all I did was open my eyes wide and stare at him without blinking, with my head tilted back. "...I...."

"...will kill you directly."

I left. Under the LED lights of the city, on a small street corner, a murder had occurred. I glided on the streets, not paying attention to the people around me. Looking up at the starry sky, I sighed.

Mark my words, because it isn’t a joke.

"I hope we won't have the chance to meet again, Tom."

A few years later...

"A murder occurred in the Hanvan Apartments in New York City. The victims were a family of three, a husband and wife and their six-year-old daughter. The investigation is still ongoing. According to some reliable sources, it is very likely that this is another serial killer by Tom Weldena - a new killer in recent years. Previously, it seemed that he only targeted criminals who had been acquitted and released from prison, but according to police reports, this family had absolutely no involvement or connection with any crime. Neighbors around reported that the family was extremely happy and kind, often bringing them cakes. There were no fights or arguments, all three members of the family were extremely harmonious..."

Puff.

The TV shuts off. A sigh.

“I expected you to keep your promise, Tom. I had high hopes for you, but it seems you still can’t resist temptation. What can you do, once you get used to it, you can’t stop, that’s human nature, right?”

A suitcase of tools. A smile.

“Time to go hunting.”

....

"I closed my eyes because i can't bare to see the cruelty of this world.

I covered my ears because I don't want to hear those cries that haunted me at night.

I shut my mouth because the silence and truth speaks louder than my words.

Oh dear sinner whose blood still stained on hands, your debt is not about money that you have to pay back. It's your death for taking innocent being.

May your soul rest in peace, dear friend. Whoever you are."

_Asami_

📖Note: "Oh, so this is already part two? Somehow the relationship between Azure and her feels like it’s progressing pretty fast, doesn’t it? I guess part of it is because they’re genuinely compatible! Honestly, when writing Azure, I did look up information about him online and tried my best to portray him as accurately as possible in my story."

(。﹏。*)

"But even then, I’m not entirely sure if I got him just right. Still, writing this long piece has been both a joyful and a challenging journey for me. Later on, when there’s more information about Azure available, I’ll definitely write a separate piece focusing on the way their relationship and interactions develop."

(～￣▽￣)～

🪶If you guys haven't read Part 1 yet, then please visit there first to understand what happened in this part.

Summary: Professor E takes Azure on as his student, and the two explore the forest next to the town together. Anyone interested in grilled fish and mushrooms?

⚠️Warning: A little creepy at the end of the story, Azuretime mentions, Azure fears being abandoned (panics).

“Do not take another’s words as truth simply because they were spoken. We can only place our faith in what we have seen with our own eyes, what we have heard with our own ears.

Do not blindly believe in things without foundation. Such faith is no different from chasing something hollow and meaningless.

And if something brings you harm, let it go early, before you sink too deep into it, before it slowly destroys you.”

....

....

....

In the days following their first meeting, Azure began visiting that small forest more often. His eyes swept over every tree, searching for a familiar silhouette, a familiar breath. Whenever Two Time was busy with work at the church, Azure would quietly slip onto the path he now knew by heart. Her traces—Professor E’s—lingered in the narrow spaces between town and forest, fleeting and invisible like the wind, known only to him. Standing amid the trees as though he were part of them, when had that silent figure begun to stir such longing and excitement in his chest? Even during his busiest hours, his gaze would drift unconsciously toward that shadowed place full of secrets and unanswered questions, his heart restless and full.

She spoke little only when necessary, yet every gesture carried its own rhythm, every movement held a strange warmth. The way she observed the world around her only deepened Azure’s curiosity. A branch trembling softly in the wind, a leaf drifting lazily downward—even the faint rustle of a squirrel sneaking past escaped neither her notice nor her attention. Each time, she would lean close to Azure’s ear and whisper softly:

“Look Azure. When the wind comes from this direction, it carries the seed elsewhere. Then the breeze helps bury it beneath damp soil and sand, settling it into the earth’s embrace. With nutrients already present and abundant groundwater below, the seed will soon sprout roots, anchoring itself firmly and growing strong. Watch its journey carefully, and you’ll discover things most people overlook.”

A passing breeze brought with it the scent of moist earth, and Azure felt his heart stir, for no reason other than her presence.

Every step taken beside her became a small lesson; every question opened onto countless paths. She didn’t teach him through direct instruction, but through her gaze, through the way she felt the world around her. The direction of the wind, the movement of animals, the quiet details even a botanist like Azure had never truly noticed. She was guiding him into her world. Through each shared moment, he learned. He learned to see more deeply, to walk more slowly, to feel nature with pure curiosity and reverence. Knowledge was like a wall, one that only became a complete and beautiful mural the more one understood. It was built by him, more precisely, by the deep admiration growing within him. The way she walked ahead in silence, guiding him step by step, made him feel both protected and endlessly curious.

Safe.

Once, when they stopped by a small patch of flowers, she leaned closer to examine each bloom, gently lifting a leaf and studying it in silence. Azure stood beside her, watching quietly. After a moment, she turned toward him and held out her hand. Without thinking, he took it, waiting for her guidance. She placed the leaf on his fingertip, leaving him staring at it in confusion. She only smiled and said nothing more, and they continued on their way. It was only later that he realized the veins of that leaf formed two letters—A and Z—from Azure.

Another time, while walking along a narrow trail, the professor suddenly stopped and pointed at several mushrooms growing on the trunk of a nearby oak tree.

“Azure,” She called him over, asked. “Are those mushrooms poisonous?”

He hurried over, examined them carefully, and shook his head. “No, they aren’t. This kind isn’t toxic.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then what do you think they are?”

Without hesitation, he answered confidently. “I think they’re young straw mushrooms.”

She said nothing in response. Instead, she took a small cloth from her pouch, knelt down, carefully separated one mushroom, and held it up for him to see. “This is a death cap,” she said calmly. “Its scientific name is Amanita phalloides. It’s highly poisonous, eating it destroys the liver and kidneys.”

She smiled at his stunned expression. “Fortunately, during your studies, you aren’t the type to test theories by tasting them on the spot.” The laugh from her is soft, and of course, the remark sent his face burning red. To soothe him, she gently patted his head.

“Don’t worry. You’re still young. The world of botany is vast. See? Though they’re both mushrooms, their DNA and metabolic processes differ entirely. That’s why we must study carefully before drawing conclusions, to avoid dangerous mistakes later. Straw mushrooms grow on rice straw, while forest mushrooms that resemble them are often death caps.”

She glanced at the mushroom in her hand one last time, then burned it to ash right before Azure’s eyes. “For botanists, observation and learning are essential, especially when studying plant habitats and structures. But it’s also dangerous. Toxic plants are easily mistaken for harmless ones, and a careless touch can be fatal. So in experiences like this, never interact unless you’re certain of your knowledge. Sometimes, stopping to think before rushing headlong after curiosity, learning patience, is how we cultivate good judgment.”

Her smiling eyes met his, and his heart fluttered wildly. A strange sensation threaded through every nerve.

Curiosity. Discovery.

Following her footsteps felt like unfolding a new map—vast, exhilarating, and impossible to resist.

Their lessons passed quickly, fading softly yet leaving him full. Sunlight painted the treetops gold as he returned to town, his heart buoyant with a warm, lingering afterglow. Each step home felt like it wanted to skip, yet part of him resisted leaving. Somewhere deep in the forest, among flowers and drifting breezes, a presence, foreign yet increasingly familiar, had claimed his senses. A person whose name he didn’t yet know, but whom he knew he would never want to forget.

The forest he once wandered had become something else entirely. A new world unlocked by a key, mysterious and unreadable, yet warm. She was someone he admired, someone he looked up to and wished to learn from. With a guide like that, how could he not feel happy? How could he not want to draw closer?

Azure stepped back into the town, his thoughts already longing for their next meeting.

It didn’t take long before they met again.

On the morning two days later, the forest was heavy with mist after the rain the night before. Each of Azure’s steps sank softly into the damp earth. The woods were waking at an unhurried pace; sunlight had yet to pierce the dense canopy, managing only a few pale streaks of light suspended with drifting dust. He entered the familiar area with a notebook pressed tightly to his chest, his fingers unconsciously brushing the frayed edges of its cover, a habit not unlike a child clutching what they believed to be a treasured hoard.

Her usual resting place was empty.

Small signs: a few shifted leaves, scattered ashes from a fire, and several edible mushrooms neatly gathered to one side, suggested she had been there not long ago. It seemed she had risen early and moved on. Azure slowly turned in a circle, ears straining for the faint rustle of leaves. The forest felt quieter than usual today. As though even the woods wished to hide her presence, shielding her from the bustling town beyond.

Finding nothing, he ventured deeper into the forest. She couldn’t have gone far.

Near the lakeshore, beneath drooping branches that cast their shadows over the pale silver water, he spotted a figure curled into herself, small and withdrawn. A hood covered most of her head; her body was hunched, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, face buried between them to ward off the morning chill. A small fire crackled a short distance behind her, with skewers of fish and mushrooms roasting halfway through, their gentle aroma drifting through the cold mist.

Azure stopped short.

For a fleeting moment, he saw a fragility he had never witnessed in her before.

Professor E, gentle as she was, had never once appeared anything but strong and composed in his eyes, and that image had etched itself deeply into his mind. She usually stood firm in the forest as though she held it in the palm of her hand. And yet, in this moment, he felt oddly at ease. Sometimes, those who seem strongest are the ones carrying the heaviest weight, aren’t they?

He approached slowly, careful not to disturb the peaceful air around her. But she stirred before he could speak.

The hood shifted slightly, and her voice still hoarse with sleep, amusingly drowsy, rose softly.

“Azure…?”

“Yes. It’s me,” he replied just as quietly.

She hummed in response, and immediately promptly slumped back into her original position. It seemed the professor was still half asleep. Azure glanced around awkwardly before sitting down beside her. After a short while, she finally lifted her head, rubbed her eyes, let out a small yawn, and lazily reached for a skewer, offering it to him. “Have you eaten breakfast? Breakfast is very important if you want your body to have enough energy to absorb knowledge.”

He nodded, shyly accepting the food. “Thank you, Professor.”

She took another skewer for herself, biting into a mushroom while he waited for his to cool. Gradually, clarity returned to her expression. They ate in silence. Only when she straightened fully did he finally speak. “Professor E… would it trouble you… if, in future lessons, we had another companion?”

She had been chewing when she heard him. And the moment her brain caught up with the question, she choked violently, startling Azure half to death. Her shoulders shook as she coughed, nearly dropping the skewer from her hand. She shook her head sharply, instinctively.

“No. No, that won’t do.” She waved her hands, coughing between words. “That’s not possible.”

“Then… may I know why?” he asked gently. “Why is it not possible?”

He didn’t mean to press her, but her avoidance of the townsfolk had always struck him as strange. Though Azure felt honored to be the one at her side, the question had lingered in his mind for some time. Why was she so afraid of being seen?

She didn’t answer right away.

After swallowing the last bite to avoid choking, she lifted her staff and guided a narrow ribbon of water up from the lake, bending it gently before letting it pour down onto the fire, extinguishing it. Steam rose, pale and thick, enveloping them both. When it cleared, she sat a little straighter and exhaled slowly.

“My identity must remain hidden, Azure,” she said quietly. “I can’t let too many people know. Even the smallest rumor spreading would bring trouble.” Her hand trembled slightly; the other came up to grip it, steadying herself. “You wouldn’t understand. My magic isn’t like ordinary magic. It’s not something people should know the origin of. And I’m not sure the world out there is gentle enough to understand it. They might… see me as something dangerous.” Her voice grew hoarse at the end.

Azure stared at her.

Of course. How could he forget? Those who bore the image of a witch were often branded as evil. And even if he saw her differently, there was no guarantee others would. She lowered her head, the brim of her hood falling forward, hiding whatever emotions churned beneath.

“And… even you,” she said more softly. “You seeing me at all was a mistake. No one should have seen me.”

He fell silent. He understood the slight tremor in her hands, the fear of someone who had spent too long protecting herself alone. It sounded like exhaustion—the kind that hardened the heart through sheer necessity.

In the end, he simply nodded. “Please trust me, Professor,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I won’t tell anyone, unless you allow me to.”

She let out a small laugh.

That laugh eased the tension and the guilt, gnawing at Azure. It truly had been thoughtless of him to ask such a sensitive question. She reached out and gently ruffled his hair. His ears burned red at once; the gesture always made him freeze, yet he still tilted his head into her palm, accepting it like a privilege meant for him alone. “Thank you, curious boy.”

Her smile was gentle, the kind he had only ever seen on a mother’s face in storybooks when she looked at her children. Warm. So warm.

That was when he suddenly remembered the notebook.

Azure pulled it out, opened it, and held it toward her. “Ah! There’s one more thing.”

“Hm?” She glanced down at it, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “What is it?”

“I… have a request,” he said softly. “Everything you’ve taught me… it’s so much, and it’s precious.”

His fingers brushed the cover reverently.

“I want something from you. A reminder. So that later, no matter where you go, even if we’re far apart, I can open this and remember what you’ve given me.”

She accepted the notebook, fingertips brushing the paper. Her fingers lingered on the pressed purple flower and dried leaf on the cover, their colors still vivid. She recognized them. Those are from the day they had discussed herbs together. Honestly, she was quietly surprised. She hadn’t realized the things she had given him were being kept so carefully.

The lake reflected the rising sunlight, welcoming a new day. Her smile widened, glowing along with the light dancing on the water.

“Alright,” she said softly. “Let’s see… what I can leave for you.”

She rummaged through her pouch and took out a small fountain pen, its nib dark with ink. Opening to a blank page near the end, she angled herself so the light fell across the paper. Her breath brushed the page just before the nib touched down.

The ink flowed like water. Each slender line gliding across the thin page. Azure sat beside her, transfixed, holding his breath as if afraid to disturb a moment that felt both peaceful and sacred. The forest fell silent once more. But this time, it was a warm silence.

It was one of the rare moments when even the forest paused, just to listen.

Two more months slipped by, as though in the blink of an eye.

Yet something felt wrong.

With each passing day, each fleeting moment, Azure could feel the distance between himself and Two Time stretching thinner and tighter, like a violin string pulled too far, trembling on the verge of snapping.

The church had grown unnervingly quiet, the kind of silence that foretold calm seas before a storm. The order, meanwhile, was behaving strangely. Though he was one of their followers, they told him nothing. And the quieter they became, the more unease settled into Azure’s chest.

He let out a long sigh as he sat beneath the familiar tree. This time, he looked nothing like the curious botanist he once was. He looked more like an older brother desperately trying to keep his heart from shattering into pieces. It was a pitiful sight.

“Professor E…” Azure rested his head against his knees, his voice heavy, dropping like a stone onto the earth. “Lately… we’ve been drifting further apart. I know he’s busy, really busy. But…”

Above him, Professor E lay stretched along a branch like a lazy cat. She held a cloth in her hand, carefully polishing the metal grooves of her staff with her usual meticulousness. Tilting her head to peer down at him, her hat slipped slightly to one side, her legs swaying in the breeze.

“How far apart?” she asked softly, concern lacing her voice. She was taking this seriously.

Azure blinked, his unease laid bare. He drew in a deep breath, as if trying to exhale all the tangled emotions weighing him down. “The order doesn’t tell me anything. But I feel like they’re deliberately piling work onto him. I know Two Time is capable, and that they trust him, but this… it feels wrong.”

“Is that so?” Her eyes stayed on the staff, hands continuing their work, but her attention was wholly fixed on his words. With quiet suspicion, she asked, “But are you sure they aren’t trying to separate you from him? That boy seems to place the order above your relationship. Strange, isn’t it?”

Azure answered only with a long groan, curling into himself like a ball. He looked like someone experiencing heartbreak for the first time. Professor E braced one hand against the trunk and leaned down, her hair falling forward, nearly brushing his head. “What has Two Time said to you?”

Azure hugged his knees tighter, his voice weary. “He says nothing’s wrong. Just that there’s a lot to do. But… I can’t shake the feeling that something is off. I want to trust him, but I don’t know how.”

Professor E could only sigh.

In theory, she understood these things. She knew the concepts, the mechanisms, the emotional states. But to truly feel them… she couldn’t say she did. And because of that, she grew gentler still.

She hopped down, landing lightly on the forest floor, and sat in front of Azure. One hand brushed his hair aside, fingers threading softly through the strands.

“Azure, don’t worry so much,” she murmured. “I believe Two Time truly loves you. You’ve known each other for so long, and you can count your arguments on one hand. If something were truly serious, he would tell you himself.”

Azure looked up. His eyes shimmered, not from sorrow, but from the relief of having someone finally mend the cracks in his heart. Right now, he looked like a puppy who’d just been stepped on the tail and then soothed with gentle words. His lips trembling in a comical pout.

He gazed up at her with clear, watery eyes, making her pause for a moment.“Thank you, Professor… You’re too kind to me…”

She laughed aloud, her eyes curving like crescent moons. Without thinking, she pinched his cheeks teasingly, earning a soft whine from him.“Oh dear, this face! You look just like a cuddle-starving pup who’s finally been picked up by its owner.”

Rustle.

Her laughter cut off abruptly. She turned at once, ears seemingly pricked beneath her hat. The air shifted. In the distance, the leaves stirred, not with the wind.

The forest went deathly still.

A chill ran straight up her spine. She sprang to her feet, cold sweat breaking along her back. The staff snapped into position, drawn close as her grip tightened.

Azure startled, instinctively jumping up and ducking behind her like a frightened child before he even knew why.

The air was taut, suffocatingly tense. Only the wind whispered through dry grass. They stood like that for several minutes. When she was certain no one was there, she lowered her staff—but her gaze never left that direction.

“Is… someone there?” Azure whispered.

She nodded faintly, her voice low and guarded. “It seems your frequent visits to the forest have attracted a few curious eyes.”

She pulled her hat lower, the black veil falling to obscure half her face. Azure had never seen his professor this tense. Every muscle in her body was coiled, battle-ready in an instant. The sight sent fear curling through him as well. And yet—beneath the veil, he caught a fleeting smile.

It steadied him at once.

“Come,” she said quietly. “We’re leaving.”

They walked on, but Azure noticed, her steps were faster than usual, almost impatient. He had to hurry to keep up. “Professor… are you worried?” he asked softly.

“I am,” she answered honestly, though she kept her tone calm. “But I’m worried about you.”

His eyes widened. “About me?”

She stopped and turned to face him, bending slightly to meet his gaze. “Azure, for a while… you shouldn’t meet me.”

He froze. It felt as though his heart had missed a beat, his body locking as if struck in the chest. “…Why?”

“It’s not because you did anything wrong,” she said at once, afraid he’d misunderstand. “But I’m taking too much of your time. Time that should belong where you truly are. Your research. And the relationship you’re trying so hard to hold together.”

Azure swallowed hard. “Is it… because I’ve been too careless? I can be more careful. I—”

“No.” She shook her head quickly, startled by the change in his expression. “Azure, listen to me—”

“I will be more careful,” he rushed on. “If I’m careful enough, then I can—”

“Azure.”

She turned back, but he had already grabbed the edge of her cloak, his hand trembling. Not from fear of whoever lurked nearby, it was from the terror of losing her. Someone he didn’t fully understand yet, but had already, unknowingly, become his emotional anchor.

He clutched her as if she might vanish the moment he let go. “Please don’t abandon me… Don’t disappear without telling me first. I don’t— I don’t want to lose you. Please… I’ll be careful, I will—so please, Professor…” His voice broke, eyes burning red.

“Azure!”

She raised her voice without meaning to. Both of them flinched.

Then she pulled him into her arms, holding him like a frightened child. Her hand rubbed his back, slow and steady, until his heart softened. She lowered her voice, gentle and firm. And somehow it worked.

“I won’t disappear,” she whispered. “I won’t leave without telling you. But you must understand… you’re forgetting what matters most. You have to put the one who is truly important to you first. For now, you need to set me aside. Just for a while.”

Azure was silent. In that silence lay reluctance, but also acceptance. “…I understand.”

He hugged her back, this is his first time ever initiating an embrace like this. She patted his back, rhythm by rhythm. He pressed his face into her, greedily holding onto her warmth. “…So for the next few days… we really can’t meet?” he asked softly.

She smiled gently, stroking his hair one last time. “We can’t. But only temporarily. Focus on Two Time, and on yourself. Don’t let me become an excuse to run from what truly matters.”

Azure smiled sadly, but gratitude outweighed the ache. She had always put him, and everything dear to him, first. “Alright… but promise you’ll still be here.”

“I promise.”

She walked him to the edge of the forest, where the path toward town emerged. Before he left, she teased him with a wink. “Oh, come now. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. I’ll be right here, waiting. But while I have all this free time, I imagine you will be very busy.”

She nudged his arm playfully. “If you need advice, give the boy flowers. And hold his hand when you walk together. Take the initiative. That’s how you win someone’s heart, understood?”

He burst into laughter, looked at her for a moment longer, then smiled softly. Azure waved before running toward the glow of the town lights.

“See you again…”

As he left, he turned back several times. Each time, she was still there, head tilted slightly toward him beneath the swaying leaves. He ran on, slow at first, then faster, until his small figure disappeared into the town’s light. Professor E remained where she was, watching him go. That light-footed way of his always made her want to laugh.

But she didn’t know, from the shadows behind a nearby tree, another pair of eyes was watching her too. Not with curiosity, like Azure’s.

But with reverence.

With obsession.

With a devotion so intense it bordered on danger.

She never saw him. Yet even a single smile from her was enough for him to carve it into every breath he took.

* For those who insult or speak ill of her:

Camellina: I don’t know what makes you behave like this, but I truly hope you’ll have a better day someday. Because right now, the way you speak only reveals how little kindness you have inside. I’m not angry… just a bit sorry. Sorry that you choose to hurt others just to feel better about yourself. I hope that you feel real good about yourself.

IMV!Camellina: You think your words carry weight. But they only show what you’re lacking. I don’t need to win this conversation, your bitterness already says everything. Huh? Oh no! I don’t hate you! I just finally understand why no one wants to be around you.

* For those who bad-mouth the people they care about:

Camellina: You really look like a doll. But dolls don’t have brains, they’re just plastic. And plastic… usually ends up in the landfill, aren't they?

IMV!Camellina: People wear helmets to protect their brains, but since there’s nothing inside your head worth protecting, all that fake sweetness you show is just cheap packaging trying, and failing, to hide a completely empty interior.

* For the bastards - the trash of society:

Camellina: Drop dead.

IMV!Camellina: Rot in hell.

(With this kind of person, action speaks louder than words. Trust me.)

BONUS - When this two interact with each other's circus

Original Camellina with DF!Tfc:

A heavy silence covered the room. No one could tell if it was awkwardness or caution toward the strangers in front of them. Both sides understood these were not the same people they once knew, no matter how similar they looked.

Camellina (exhales, trying to break the silence): Hello. Is everyone over there doing well?

DF!Ticket Taker (nods politely): We are doing alright, Miss Camellina.

Camellina (smiles lightly): That’s good to hear. I couldn’t help but worry sometimes. What would happen to the circus without me there? Not because I’m arrogant… just a curious thought.

DF!Doctor: I heard you had quite a decent relationship with us in your world?

Camellina (looks aside, uncertain): You could say that. After spending such a long time together… a connection is bound to form.

DF!Jester: Then what did you do in the circus?

Camellina: Me? Well… since I’m human and a woman, most of my work was light — cleaning, preparing costumes. For the heavy stuff, someone usually helped. It’s just small chores, nothing worth mentioning.

DF!Jester (frowns): …I still don’t understand. If someone like you is basically useless, why would my other self allow you close to him?

Camellina (smile stiff but polite): First, if you insult the other version of me, you’re doing it directly to my face. So I’ll pass on that question. Second, I don’t exactly know the full answer myself. And third, why I was allowed to stay… isn’t that obvious?

DF!Pierrot (hesitant, regretful):...He took you too… didn’t he?

Camellina (annoyance showing slightly): What do you think?

DF!Harlequin (snickering, amused): I’m more curious about you than the circus right now. You look so proper, so different from the cheerful girl we once met. Are you avoiding us? Or were you always like this?

Camellina (smile twisting, voice sharp but controlled): I don’t quite know what you’re trying to imply, Harlequin. But one thing is certain: I don’t know any of you here. And instead of poking into my personal life… maybe ask yourselves whether you’re good enough to judge someone else. Or perhaps… just as disgusting as the people you despise?

DF!Harlequin (mocking tone): Hah. Sharp tongue. But weren’t you the same? You lived with us all that time, why didn’t you do anything?

Camellina (tone drops cold, each word firm): If I ever had a chance, I wouldn’t have stayed a second longer. Hiding like rats… wasn’t it because you were scared of being caught? And ever since I joined the circus, I never once claimed to be human. I’m just as guilty and filthy as the rest of you.

DF!Jester: You said you didn’t know why you were allowed to stay in the circus… but I suppose the answer is simple. We found someone like you quite… entertaining. A troublesome, useless, and pitiful little human. Or perhaps… you managed to blind me back then?

Camellina: That’s quite an assumption for someone who barely knows me. Maybe you just don’t know me enough to understand. As someone considered “wise” like you, Jester, I’m honestly surprised to see a version of you who judges people so quickly without knowing a single thing about them.

DF!Jester: I’m simply saying what I see.

Camellina: And I’m simply pointing out that what you “see” is incomplete. If you still want to believe I’m a menace… then that is your mistake, not mine.

...

Camellina: Well, I can’t entirely blame you. You despise humans, that much is clear. And besides, you’re only trying to protect your family. But that doesn’t automatically make your decisions right.

DF!Pierrot (soft, almost afraid to hurt her): Camellina… I'm so sorry that i can't protect you.

Camellina:... My dear Pierrot, I'm not the Camellina you know. Not the one who have to suffer that pain she had to bare. Then, what are you apologizing for?

She lets out a small, sad laugh. Gently hold her hands together, it's a way to comfort herself.

Camellina: That Camellina… she’s the version of myself I’ve always dreamed of. She got to live. And she got to die… like a human should. Honestly, I’m a bit jealous of her. Sometimes, I wish your world’s circus had just killed me too. It would’ve been easier. But if her happiness is the price I must pay… then I’m willing to live like this. At the very least, I want to see her smile freely, the same way I once did.

....

Camellina: But what happened to her… is not something a simple apology can fix. The pain she had to paid for her freedom is a debt she carried to her final breath. But memory is a strange thing. It can haunt…or it can protect us.

DF!Pierrot (pursing lips, almost begging for something): Do you hate us for it? After everything?

Camellina (soft but sharp as a knife): Hate? Unless you talk about our world, then no. I don’t belong to your world. I am just a passerby, observing a tragedy that was never mine to bear. If anything… I pity you. Because you will spend the rest of your lives remembering someone who died in your prison. But maybe death is what she wanted, because she's free now.

She smiled, soft on the lips, but unyielding in intent. A quiet reminder that she meant every word she said.

Camellina: She and I are not the same story. She ended with tragedy… and I began with the memory of it. She lived and died in your world. I survived in mine. Do not confuse the two.

With IMV!Camellina and Original Tfc:

The circus troupe stood on one side, tense and uncertain. IMV!Camellina stood on the other, arms gently crossed, posture poised like a noblewoman forced into a room she’d rather avoid. An uneasy silence lingered. Curiosity, suspicion… and ghosts of familiarity clung to the air.

IMV!Camellina: I do wonder… must you all stare so intently? One might think it rather impolite.

Pierrot (startled, clearing his throat): Ah, our apologies. It’s simply strange to see… another you.

Harlequin: Quite so. Our Camellina doesn’t show much emotion. Meanwhile, you wear yours like… jewelry.

IMV!Camellina: Naturally. When one is surrounded by monsters who could tear her apart any moment, every smile must be… carefully crafted. I’m surprised none of you noticed she’s only ever been trying to survive.

Jester: I suspected as much. Hearing it from you… confirms more than a few theories.

IMV!Camellina (a mild smile, eyes cold): Do not get me wrong. Her affection for you was real, only blurred by fear and necessity. Human emotions rarely behave properly under pressure.

Doctor: We never believed she meant any harm. Five years together tells us enough to trust her heart.

Her expression tightened. Respectful words did nothing to soothe the memories they awakened.

Ticket Taker: Something the matter, Miss Camellina?

IMV!Camellina: Not quite a complaint… only a truth. If I had lived in your world, I suppose I might have enjoyed a few more years…

Her gaze drifted into the pale void.

IMV!Camellina: Where I come from, humans are not met with your kind eyes. Suspicion kills as swiftly as any blade. I died at the very moment I finally wished to live.

Doctor: The poison you ingested must have been… agonizing.

She let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

IMV!Camellina: Agonizing is a gentle word. Even now, my body bears that damage. Lungs that choke on air, organs weaker than glass. Fumiko insists that without it within me, even running could tear me apart.

Harlequin (brows raised): Yet you still fight? Willing to break what little keeps you alive? Admirable… and utterly suicidal.

IMV!Camellina: I’m impressed. A relevant question from you. Usually you prefer mockery.

Harlequin: Consider me intrigued by your… noble glow.

IMV!Camellina: And yes, you’re still a bastard.

His laugh echoed lightly.

IMV!Camellina: To answer you, I have died once already. Dying again hardly frightens me. If I fall while protecting others, then the pain is a small price.

Ticket Taker: A courageous spirit. Perhaps Hercules suits you well in your other world.

IMV!Camellina: Then who would I be here?

Ticket Taker: Artemis, I think.

Doctor: Greek mythology?

Jester: Read something beyond chemistry and botany for once, Doctor.

A quiet thought settled over them.

Pierrot (softly): I wonder… is our Camellina truly happy with us? Her smiles rarely shine like yours.

Her eyes softened, but in sorrow, not warmth.

IMV!Camellina: I cannot speak for her heart… yet I know what captivity does to a soul. She may feel she lost her humanity the moment she joined you. No place left to return to… no forgiveness awaiting. But she does see you as family and what she protects, she protects fiercely.

The light flickered, time thinning. She glanced at a watch hanging from her wrist.

IMV!Camellina: It seems our meeting draws to a close.

Ticket Taker: An honor to see you again, Miss Camellina.

Jester: May the path you choose stay strong beneath your feet.

Doctor: If my counterpart truly created that poison… I’m sorry for what you suffered.

IMV!Camellina: You did not make that choice. I am still standing, so do not trouble yourself.

Harlequin: If even Doctor apologizes, the pain must have been charmingly horrific. Hard to imagine. You are truly something, Camel~

Her eyebrow twitched.

IMV!Camellina: I am not your Camellina. Only family calls me that. Do refrain.

Harlequin: You really dislike us… or you hate them, the ones from your world, even more.

A slow exhale. A truth sharp enough to bleed on.

IMV!Camellina: Hate? Quite. I hope they suffer, and rot in agony until death grows bored of them.

They froze. Not from fear of her, but realization. Their Camellina had swallowed everything she could not say. This one spat it out without flinching.

Harlequin (quiet amusement returning): Still, I hope you find happiness where you’re going. I prefer our Camellina, but… seeing this version of you is entertaining enough.

IMV!Camellina: I finally understand why she called you a kind-hearted bastard.

Pierrot stepped closer, gently, like approaching a memory.

Pierrot: You may not be our Camellina… but I care for every version of you. May your smile outlive every sorrow, my light.

She took his hand, polite, not affectionate.

IMV!Camellina: You dream too beautifully, Pierrot. But I am not hers and you are not mine. Don’t wander after shadows. She is the one who belongs with you.

Pierrot (voice cracking): I don’t know how we failed you, how we let you die painfully. Even if I am not him… I’m sorry you bore that pain.

A breath. A heartbeat. Just enough vulnerability to be real.

📒Note: "Sorry guys, it took too much time to edit the story back together. I'm trying to improved my English so had to double check everthing before post the story." (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the story. This is only part 1, and i'm working on part 2 now. So don't worry, you will have them soon enough.╰(*°▽°*)╯

Summary: Azure meets someone he never see in the town before.

"Memories become stories.

Love and regret exist through pages.

Endure, accept, then.... embrace them, my dear.

Cherish your memories, because you will walk along side them in the rest of your life."

....

....

....

That day was an afternoon.

A long hush lay cradled around the forest, steeped in the somber breath of winter. The sky was ash-gray, thick as a quilted blanket, yet beneath that heavy pall, embers of red-orange still strained to seep through, glowing faintly as if gasping for air. Fragile shafts of sunlight slipped between the high canopies, scattering into elongated stains across the damp earth. The air carried the scent of young moss and split bark, mingled with a chill that foretold the sun’s imminent descent and the birth of another night. Somewhere in the distance, insects murmured sporadically, their sounds slowly weaving together into a steady rhythm, like the forest’s quiet greeting.

Amid this tranquil natural scene, the air near the ground trembled and split open along a thin line of light. It was as fine as a silken thread, yet bright enough to banish the darkness around it. The line quivered, then slowly fractured, forming a narrow white just wide enough to resemble a slim doorway. The light within was utterly unlike the forest’s glow. Soft and pale like mist, as though it might vanish at any moment.

Then a head peeked out, cautiously surveying the surroundings. The figure seemed wary; after confirming there was no danger, the head retreated back inside. A few minutes later, a full silhouette stepped through, landing lightly upon the ground. Strangely, the instant her feet touched the earth, a small patch of grass sprang up around where she stood.

She glanced down without surprise, as if this were something she had long grown accustomed to. With a gentle motion, she adjusted the hunter-green witch’s hat, which is unnaturally wide, sat slightly askew on her head. She smoothed the black veil that draped down, obscuring part of her eye, leaving her vision half-lit and half-shadowed. It was essential that her face never be clearly seen, she reminded herself. Her fern-colored attire blended seamlessly with the trees, making her slight figure appear as though the forest itself had given birth to her, rather than her having arrived from some distant realm.

She tightened her grip on the staff in her hand. Just once, lightly. The staff resembled an enormous calligraphy brush, though slimmer and stranger, its tip fanning into three feathers instead of one. The head of the staff - the pen’s nib - was forged from gleaming metal, reflecting the ember-orange hues of the sky. A passing gust greeted her, teasing a few strands of hair against her cheek. The faint scent of sap wove into her breath as she relaxed, listening to the first sounds of this unfamiliar land: the flap of a bird taking flight, leaves whispering as they fell, the old creak of tree trunks cracking softly under the cold. Everything was ordinary, and most importantly, there was no one here.

She turned back to look at the gate.

Raising her staff, she let the metal nib touch the upper edge of the glowing, like a writer setting pen to a blank page. She drew a careful line along the seam, slow and precise. The light dissolved with each stroke, and within moments, the gate she had just passed through vanished as if it had never existed. Absolute precision, born of countless repetitions, ensured that everything returned to its natural, unremarkable state.

She exhaled. A short, measured breath.

Slipping the small satchel back against her hip, she lifted her gaze toward the distance. The lights of a town crept into view, scattered beneath the darkening sky like fireflies gathering. The path leading from the forest was carpeted with leaves, each step stirring a soft, rustling murmur. Her footsteps were cautious and tentative, yet steadfast, moving forward as though she already knew where they would end.

Behind her, the forest watched on, welcoming a strange and unfamiliar new wind.

She had barely stepped a few meters beyond the forest’s edge when the entire town unfolded before her eyes. Taking cover behind a tree trunk, she studied the rows of gray-tiled houses standing shoulder to shoulder, kitchen smoke curling upward in thin ribbons that rose straight into the darkening sky.

The town was beautiful, clean, orderly… and yet strangely lacking a pulse

This should have been the liveliest hour of the day, when people returned home, shop ledgers were closed, and lights slowly bloomed behind windows. And yet, for reasons she couldn’t quite grasp, everything felt heavier than it should have.

Curiosity hardened into recklessness. She crept closer, still keeping to the shadows of bushes within the town. The orange wash of sunset across the rooftops failed to brighten the place, as though the town itself swallowed the light the moment it touched stone. Windows stood open, but laughter was scarce. Front yards lay dry and motionless, no children running, no voices calling out.

She narrowed her eyes. Something was wrong, she just didn’t know what. The unease sent a shiver through her, but it wasn’t unpleasant. On the contrary, it sharpened her curiosity, urging her to uncover what was happening around this town.

Just as she was about to slip out of the bushes to reposition and observe the townsfolk more closely, voices drifted toward her from afar.

She startled violently, fumbling so badly she nearly dropped the staff she’d just lifted. In a rush, she tossed both the staff and her oversized hat behind the wall of a nearby house. Lowering herself quickly, she froze in the brush, not daring to make a sound. Leaves scraped against her shoulder; low branches tangled in her hair, leaving it a mess, but that could wait. She held her breath, allowing only the faintest rise and fall of her chest.

Footsteps approached. The voices grew clearer.

They passed by, no more than three steps away. A single glance over their shoulders would have been enough to expose her. Her hands, unconsciously clasped together, tightened with worry.

But they kept walking.

They noticed nothing at all.

One of them, a young man with dark brown hair, was animatedly talking about that morning’s training session. The boy beside him, with pitch-black hair, simply smiled and nodded, occasionally chiming in to show he was listening. The two walked on, chatting and laughing like close friends, carefree and warm. Their presence lit up the gloomy town, and even reached her hiding place, stirring her curiosity further.

Still, she remained lucid enough to stop her legs from acting before her mind could. She waited in silence, counting the seconds as they slipped by.

One second…

Two seconds…

Then three.

Their voices faded, proof that they had moved farther away. Now. Now she had to leave. Who knew if one of them might turn back? She sprang up, snatching her staff and hat from behind the wall. Leaves shook loose from the bushes at her sudden movement, scattering onto the damp ground as she burst free. Her actions were swift, decisive. She knew exactly what she needed to do.

Without hesitation, she ran straight back into the depths of the forest.

Her steps were hurried, her body screaming that she needed to avoid contact with them. No,her flight spoke of something deeper. Almost as if she was afraid. Yes. She had to run. To flee. Away from human eyes. Away from the place she feared confronting—the place she had never truly been ready to set foot in.

Meanwhile, Azure suddenly stopped.

“Hm…?” He tilted his head slightly, sensing that something behind him had moved. A faint rustle, so soft he might have dismissed it, had he not been paying attention.

He turned around, eyes narrowing. The wind stirred, carrying a few leaves that drifted gently to the ground. Nothing seemed out of place; everything looked exactly as it had moments before. At least, as far as he could remember. And yet, the calmer the scene appeared, the more certain he became that he hadn’t imagined the sound.

“Did you notice something, Azure?” Two Time asked quietly, seeing him glance back toward the path. Azure didn’t answer at once. He listened intently.

But in the end, there was only the familiar whisper of leaves, the steady chorus of insects. Nothing else. He frowned, gaze lingering on the forest bordering the town.

Azure searched for something more.

There was nothing.

Finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before turning back to his companion, a familiar easy smile returning to his face. “It’s nothing. Probably just the wind.” Two Time laughed, giving his shoulder a light shove in teasing reply. The two continued on, picking up their unfinished conversation, yet Azure couldn’t shake the strange feeling.

The presence hadn’t vanished. It lingered, vague yet sharp, thudding in his chest, urging him, insisting that his instincts were right. Because it was entirely possible that something, or someone, had already slipped into the forest, disappearing behind the green curtain of trees. Somewhere in that darkened place, one he believed he knew better than anyone else, that person had fled his gaze. And done so faster, quieter, and with far more skill than any ordinary resident of this town ever could.

At night, the sky seemed draped in soft velvet, with only the moon hanging high above, threading its pale light into every corner of the world. Azure walked along the narrow dirt path toward his familiar field of violet blossoms. Each step was light, cushioned by earth and grass, bringing him a quiet peace that always calmed his mind after long days filled with looping, restless thoughts.

Tonight should have included Two Time. They would have walked hand in hand.  Two Time tugging him into endless, rambling stories about the church’s affairs, or Azure enthusiastically chattering about curious bits of knowledge he’d uncovered while studying plants, just like on any other day. But not tonight. Tonight, there was only Azure, the field, and the moon as his companion.

And truly, the field had never been more beautiful.

The violet flowers, modest just three days ago, now shimmered beneath the starlit sky, greedily drinking in the moonlight. Their purple had deepened, darker, glossier, pulling the gaze into a hazy space between waking and dream. People said violet blossoms symbolized betrayal and danger, but Azure had always thought otherwise. To him, they were an unseen, beautiful mystery hidden among green leaves, visible only to those perceptive enough to notice.

He wondered, briefly, if he might be dreaming.

His steps slowed as he reached the edge of the field. The absence of Two Time left the air feeling hollow, yet Azure was not lonely. He only regretted that his friend would miss the beauty of this night. At least, that was what he thought, until he realized he was not alone.

Amid the sea of violet flowers swaying gently in the breeze stood a figure beneath the moon, luminous yet faint, like morning mist. A girl. Her witch’s hat was even larger than the one Azure often wore, its brim strangely wide. A black veil fluttered softly in the wind, causing her face to appear and vanish in fleeting glimpses. Her cloak shifted subtly with each breath, lending her an air both cold and tender. In her hand, she held a sprig of violet blossoms, careful not to harm the delicate flower beneath her fingers.

He could not see her eyes, hidden beneath the hat’s brim and the dark veil, but from the way her lips pressed together, occasionally parting as if murmuring to herself, from the slow rise and fall of her chest, he knew she was lost deep in thought.

In that instant, everything changed.

The night’s stillness shattered. The familiarity dissolved. Azure was no longer sure this was the field he knew so well. It felt foreign now, while the woman before him seemed to understand the place better than anyone else, even better than he did. The moon behind her wrapped her silhouette in a soft silver glow, as if she had stepped straight out of a thousand-year-old fairytale.

The field became a stage, hosting a story far too mysterious, yet so captivating that Azure’s heart skipped out of rhythm with curiosity.

For a fleeting moment, he felt like the stranger, a guest in his own sanctuary. The thought that violet flowers suited him vanished at once. Clearly, they suited her more. The purple light enveloped her, cradling the body that so gently reached for it. The wind carried the forest’s melody, whispering into his ears, as though the entire woodland itself were welcoming her.

As though it had chosen her. Not him.

Azure drew in a careful breath, unwilling to disturb the beautiful scene with his awkward presence. Yet the restraint only deepened his curiosity. Before he could stop himself, he swallowed softly and took a step forward. He didn’t want to startle her, but he couldn’t let the moment slip away either.

“Excuse me…” he said, his voice barely more than a hiss carried by the wind.

Still, she heard him.

She froze, the expression she’d been studying hardening instantly, as if she had been yanked back from another world. The moment she sensed another presence, her fingers released the flower, while her other hand tightened around her staff. The blossom slipped from her grasp, falling onto the green grass below. She stepped back on instinct, pulling her hat down defensively, hiding her face as though afraid of being seen.

Moonlight traced faint lines across her palm. In the wind, murmured words escaped her lips—quiet, but just audible enough to catch fragments.

“Why here… when… have you seen…?”

The staff lifted slightly in her grip, her cloak fluttering wildly. The shadow of her hat swallowed her face entirely, leaving Azure unable to read even the faintest hint of her expression.

He raised a hand, about to say he meant no harm-

When suddenly, a fierce gust of wind tore across the field.

The violet flowers bent low, petals and dust flung into the air as her cloak snapped violently. Azure lifted his arm on instinct to shield his eyes. The wind wasn’t just strong, it came too abruptly, as if summoned by someone’s will.

When it finally died down, he lowered his arm and opened his eyes.

And in that single heartbeat, he missed her.

The field returned to its familiar nighttime stillness, nothing left but violet hues and moonlight.

She was gone.

No footprints.

No sound.

No trace.

Nothing at all, as if she had dissolved into the air itself. Only the whispering grass remained, a soft murmur affirming that her presence had been real. She had stood here.

Azure stayed there for a long while, feeling as though he had stumbled into a parallel world, only to be thrown back into his familiar timeline moments later. He stood amid the field, breathing in time with the night wind. His heart beat faster than usual, alive with the thrill of discovering something new. Curiosity burned bright, urging him toward answers.

It had been years since he’d felt like this. And for some nameless reason, he realized he no longer truly understood violet flowers.

It was as though a mysterious book, brimming with untold, magical stories no one had ever read, had appeared within arm’s reach. And who wouldn’t dare risk opening it, even just once?

After all...

One violet blossom had already, by chance, fallen into the girl’s journey basket.

But perhaps it wasn’t quite a flower.

It felt more like… a newly born inconvenience to her.

The days that followed passed in a strange game of chase between the two of them, played out within that forest that only seemed vast. The woman—no, she looked far too young to be called a woman in her thirties, yet far too composed to be simply a girl. The shadow that had taken the shape of a mysterious witch that night continued to flicker in and out of existence like an unseen ghost.

She kept herself moving lightly with the wind, sealed away like mist, avoiding every path touched by human footsteps. She was used to living in silence, used to letting her footprints dissolve the moment they touched the ground.

And yet, for reasons she couldn’t understand, that boy, the one she had accidentally encountered twice since arriving here, kept finding traces of her presence, no matter how carefully she hid.

What a stubborn violet flower.

Sometimes she’d catch sight of him peeking out from behind an ancient tree, arms wrapped around a stack of botany books. Other times, he would be sitting on a stone by the stream, sketching a flower he’d found in a book while constantly glancing around, as though waiting for someone-who-shall-not-be-named. Once, she even flew above the tallest canopy, convinced she was finally safe, only to look down and still see his small figure moving below, trying desperately to “catch her signal.”

“That kid…” she muttered, relocating yet again, how many times this week, she’d long since lost count.

The more she hid, the more fervently the boy seemed driven to search.

Strangely enough, she didn’t find him noisy or irritating. He never forced himself closer, never crossed her boundaries. He simply… was there. Appearing. Existing. It was as if the universe itself had decided to tease her life, perhaps finding it too quiet, too flavorless, and craving a little disruption.

In the end, she gave in.

The sky was overcast and cool, free of the harsh midday sun. A gentle breeze swept through the forest as the day leaned toward its end, autumn air settling softly over the land. The treetops soaked in woven hues of orange-red light, so soft they seemed as though they might melt at a touch.

The one who always tucked herself into the forest’s dimmest corners now stood out among the high leaves. She sat casually atop her staff, floating near the branch of a tall wild apple tree. Ripe red apples swayed invitingly, their skins shimmering beneath a dusting of golden dusk. She plucked them one by one, cradling an armful against her chest. Just as she was about to leave when—

“Oh! There you are!”

A clear, earnest male voice rang up from below, making her want to… bury her face in the leaves.

She closed her eyes.

Half a second.

After rearranging her thoughts, she could only sigh. No anger. No surprise. Just helplessness—and a trace of amusement. Over the past few days, she had tried everything: teleporting, taking detours, flying straight up, hiding in treetops.

And yet, the boy tracked her like a curious puppy, following her scent with uncanny persistence. Typical of the universe, always fond of dropping a punctuation mark into an otherwise peaceful sentence of life. She picked three more apples before finally looking down, asking tiredly, “Young man, what exactly do you want from me?”

Azure looked up as though he’d caught a signal. His eyes lit up, a flicker of panic mixed in, because she was finally talking to him. Truthfully, he had already prepared himself for the possibility that he might never get the chance to speak to her before she vanished again, just as suddenly as she had appeared.

The fact that she’d chosen to speak stirred something restless inside him.

“Ah—um, I’m really sorry if I’ve been rude,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, prompting a confused brow-raise from above. “I’ve just… never seen you around here before. Everyone in town knows one another. But you… this feels like the first time.”

She stared at him, eyes wide, unresponsive.

Then she laughed. A soft laugh, far too gentle, and far too charming for the moment. “That’s because I don’t belong here. I was merely passing through, and something caught my interest. Once I’m done, I’ll leave.”

Azure startled, waving his hands in a panic. “Oh! No, I didn’t mean to chase you away or anything!”

His flustered gestures only made her laugh again. He flushed bright red with embarrassment. As the sun dipped lower, evening light spilled across her ash-golden hair, making it shimmer as though dusted with magic. Azure could only stand there, watching her every movement—her floating perch on the staff beside the towering apple tree, like she was a living question.

“You’re… really flying,” he said, unable to hide the excitement on his face.

“Is it magic? Or some kind of trick? I-I’ve never seen—” He spoke too quickly, losing track of his own words. She said nothing, maintaining a patient smile, waiting for him to finish. He inhaled deeply, steadying himself. “I just… I’ve read fairy tales, and I really love witches as characters. I don’t think all witches are evil, just like how I see Nightshade.”

She studied him for a moment, thoughtful. Then she raised a finger to her lips, smiling with playful mystery. “I can’t tell you my secret,” she said. “But I’m glad to hear that.”

Thump.

An apple landed gently in Azure’s hands, clearly thrown on purpose. The staff descended slowly, tilting as her cloak fluttered in the breeze. Her toes brushed the ground lightly. She was still seated on the staff, but now, she was directly in front of him. Only then did he realize she was a full head taller than he was.

Azure didn’t consider himself short, he was taller than most people he knew. And yet beside her, he felt unmistakably like a child. The realization made him awkwardly self-conscious, especially since all he could see of her face was half of it. Even standing this close, the upper half of her face remained hidden beneath her hat, clearly by design. “You searched for me all week,” she said, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Didn’t you get tired?”

Azure smiled brightly, his voice calm and certain. “Not at all! I love exploring and learning new things. If something sparks my curiosity, I won’t hesitate to chase the answer. You could say I’m quite stubborn.”

Her eyes widened. Strangely enough, he spoke as though her question were self-evident.

Something in the air shifted, softened. She stepped closer and, for the first time, looked directly into his eyes. Her eyes were a pale gold, matching her hair. If one didn’t look closely, they might even think she was blind. Azure felt his heart slow for half a beat,then pound like a drum. She laughed aloud this time, unrestrained, genuinely delighted. Stepping back, her hat once more shadowed her face. “A mind full of curiosity and thirst for knowledge?” she said lightly. “You’re quite like me.”

She tilted her head, studying him with care. Being cautious of outsiders didn’t mean cutting them off entirely. While too much social interaction was still overwhelming… easing into it might not be so difficult.

“Young man,” she asked gently. “What is your name?”

Azure startled, his cheeks tinting red as he realized he’d forgotten something very basic, and very important. He bowed slightly. “I’m sorry! I was so focused on talking. My name is Azure. I’m a botanist.” He paused, then asked, “And you?”

She fell silent. It was a silence with weight, pressing against Azure’s chest, stirring unease.

Had he said something wrong?

Why did such a simple question demand hesitation?

Just as he was wondering how to apologize, she slowly lowered the staff and stepped fully onto the ground. Sunlight filtered past her hat, obscuring her eyes but illuminating the grain and patterns etched into her staff, clearer than ever. She stood straight, gripping the staff.

The pen had touched the page. A new story began where two paths crossed.

Magic existed, woven with affection.

“You may call me…” she said slowly. “…Professor E.”

A seed fell between them. Small, yet certain to take root. A gentle breeze passed at just the right moment, lending the instant an almost ceremonial weight: the opening line of a long tale.

For the first time on this journey, she stopped, allowing herself to look at someone directly, without hiding, and to learn how to live as a human being.

A fragile bond - a newly spun, invisible golden thread - had just begun to weave itself into existence.

Yep… it’s been another long stretch of offline time while I desperately wrestled with my end-of-term exams. Honestly, the study stress recently has been frying my brain so much that I barely manage to check the app anymore.

So far, I’ve properly developed only two characters on Tumblr, even though I still have a whole zoo of OC ideas from other fandoms waiting in the back of my mind. Well, writing backstories is no joke. It reflects their personalities, guides their actions, and basically shapes the entire life of the poor little beings we create. And as a Creator… I feel totally guilty for leaving my potential characters abandoned in a dusty mental corner like that.

Which is why *drum roll* I’m introducing a brand-new character from the Forsaken fandom, with a ridiculously long 4-part storyline.

And before anyone starts asking: Yes, I play Forsaken and I simply enjoy playing it. No, I’m not one of the toxic ones. Yes, I respect all opinions and all the legal ships in this fandom. No, we are not discussed about the Forsaken's dramas. Yes, I did read the Forsaken lore even though I’m not entirely sure it’s accurate. No, my stories did tied to the original one but not fully, because i don't even know how things work in Forsaken. (It's my AU, again) And yes, I adore the storyline between Two Time and Azure, especially Azure.

From what I’ve read, there isn’t much clear info about their story yet, since Killer being confirmed as Azure hasn’t been officially released in the game. So their interactions are… vague at best. But I’ve gathered the main events to shape my own story and develop my OC’s personality around them.

Spoiler (just facts): My OC does not belong to Two Time and Azure’s storyline. She shows up as an outsider, a literal passerby who wandered in.

Upcoming plans: If you’ve read about Two Time, you probably know his mentor, Amarah. I’m thinking about developing a connection between my OC and him because… well… they kind of match vibes? I’m not even sure why my brain came up with that, but maybe I just wanted to add a sprinkle of extra chaos to Two Time and Azure’s already tangled relationship.

In the story, my OC doesn’t really like Amarah. Probably because she knows that the whole “Spawn” cult is basically a scam, and that Two Time was dragged into it by him. Azure and my OC, on the other hand, have a mentor-student (or mother-child??) kind of dynamic. But Amarah… my girl only knows he raised Two Time. And honestly? I don’t think I can say the same with Amarah though.

If any of you know any official information about Azure and Two Time, please just tell me. I desperately need it… seriously.

(I have some ideas with all of my characters design, so I'm using Gacha Life 2 now. Quite hard, but it makes me feel relax whenever I have free times to take a breath)

Please read the story first before you read this page: I'm-home-one-last-wish.

The story above is the final part of the plot that happened to IMV!Camellina. I think that no matter how the storyline of The Freak Circus goes, Camellina’s fate in this AU would still be death. But do you know what event changed the entire course of this long plot?

OG!Camellina — or Camellina in the original version — interacted with all five members of the circus before being kidnapped. From there, their special curiosity and interest in her were sparked, which led them to focus on her, to study Camellina to learn more. Their attitudes and perspectives gradually shifted after talking with her, eventually leading to the decision to keep her alive. And of course, they had to see proof of her usefulness to justify keeping her alive, even though they could have done it themselves. In my view, it’s similar to how we keep something just to make their dull, monotonous lives more interesting, which ultimately led to the result we saw: Camellina survived.

Unlike the original, this Camellina mostly interacted with Pierrot; with the others, at most, she just exchanged greetings. She didn’t speak much, and Pierrot was the one she met the most. Then there’s Harlequin. Even though she interacted with him more than the others, Pierrot intervened, and she could only leave quietly. The circus was probably mostly curious why Pierrot wanted her so much, but for the most part, they suspected she might be using him. Let me remind you: they hate humans, and as a human, Camellina was someone they couldn’t let their guard down around.

Well, if you consider all five circus members, Pierrot is the most innocent and the most easily blinded by love (he’s a virgin, so can you blame him?). If he truly loved her, then just a few sweet words from her could have let her escape from his hands. And that would have been a major problem if Camellina learned what was happening in the circus and spread it outside. So… I think you understand now. In fact, The Freak Circus in IMV!Camellina knows very little about her. They only know peripheral information, and the person she truly is remains completely unknown to them, except for Pierrot.

What worries me the most is probably the difference in perspective and how the two AUs view the members of the circus. I mean, I think just being trapped and held captive among a group of dangerous people would be enough to scare anyone to death, unless you’re into that sort of thing happening in real life. For someone with a normal mindset, they’d naturally rely on the person they’re closest to. You know Stockholm Syndrome, right? Yes, that’s exactly what’s happening with IMV!Camellina, she’s developing an emotional attachment to her captor during her confinement.

However, she’s still aware that what he’s doing doing is wrong, and her feelings for him aren’t deep enough to blind her, so she can still let go of the past. Unlike the original Camellina, who learned more about the circus, lived among them, and was eventually accepted, this Camellina dies without ever truly understanding anything.

Imagine this: If you did something good, but that act indirectly led to your own death, would you regret doing it? It’s like choosing which track a train will run on: one person on one side, five on the other, but this time, you are the one making the choice as Death itself. No matter which option you pick, the guilt will remain. Denying the good deed only deepens her sense of remorse.

Originally, Camellina knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, but putting herself in a deadly situation because of it made her feel more regret than anyone else could. She couldn’t control fate. So, who could she blame? Pierrot? Sure, she could be angry at him for bringing her into the circus, a reckless choice he made on his own, without her consent. But remember, she had feelings for Pierrot, and he never intended to harm her; she could be upset or frustrated, but not truly hate him.

So, who else? The other members. The circus members - the ones who never interacted or spoke with her - were the ones who directly caused her death. At the moment when her will to live was strongest, they extinguished it with their own hands, not Camellina. That’s what made her angry; that’s what made her hate them. Even in death, she couldn’t exercise freedom. They took away her autonomy, reducing her to nothing more than property.

Camellina was a sensitive person. She feared noise and usually only reached out to those close to her or for work. Being bullied had left a deep scar, directly shaping her personality. And think: what tendencies would a child who’s unprotected develop when growing up in a violent environment? They’d become defensive, maybe not outwardly aggressive, but their thoughts would lean toward negativity and rejection. You can see that the original Camellina could be violent when she saw Pierrot hurt. And of course, IMV!Camellina was no different. In the previous part of the story, she harmed herself instead of directing violence at Pierrot, not because she didn’t want to, but because she knew she couldn’t do anything to him.

To repeat once more: IMV!Camellina hates every single member of the freak circus except for Pierrot. She doesn’t care whether they live or die, and as long as their fates don’t affect her life in the Imaginary Void, she feels no attachment to that world at all. More importantly, she's more open with her feelings and emotions to the others. (The only thing she truly regrets is leaving her teacher at the orphanage.)

Meanwhile, OG!Camellina keeps her thoughts to herself and behaves carefully around each person to survive. Unlike her counterpart, she develops a closer relationship with the circus after spending time with them. Although her actions are limited, and she’s haunted by the thought that she could be killed at any moment simply because they’re hungry, she still manages to live a life that’s far more bearable than most.

The original name for IMV!Camellina is actually DF!Camellina, means Different Fate, but since she is no longer belong to her world and currently lives in Imaginary Void (stands for IMV). She wants to rename the world she belongs to under her own identity. She doesn’t want to have any connection with the world she used to be part of.

Imagine if two AUs meet each other, it will become a chaos! I already have a scene where IMV! Camellina helds tight her gun (she has an unique weapon in Imaginary Void of her own), behind her is OG!Camellina and yells at "The Freak circus" from her AU to stay back.

⚠️WARNING: Content is OOC (not canon) and contains death, brutality, regret, decapitation (body parts), cannibalism, and frequent mentions of blood and corpses.

Readers under 16 or those who prefer to avoid violence and gore should stop reading here. Thank you for your attention. ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

....

Freedom.

Freedom is not shouting among the crowd, nor breaking all bonds. It is the breath that remains when the world tries to squeeze your chest. It is the moment of being able to think in your own way, even if no one listens.

Freedom does not lie in the open door, but in the thought that even when being locked up, we still have not forgotten who we are. Sometimes, it is just a small choice, like daring to look straight into fear, daring to say “no” when everyone says “yes.”

Freedom is not something that anyone can give, and even less a privilege. It is the most stubborn part that survives in the mind, even when the hands are tied, the mouth is covered, and the whole world wants us to be silent. Only when we no longer need anyone’s permission to exist, do we truly touch it.

Freedom, in the end, cannot be given by anyone. Only when we stop asking for permission to live, do we begin to have it.

...

She had almost forgotten the freedom that once belonged to her already.

Time passed very slowly, seeming to stretch endlessly with an emptiness strangely quiet. Camellina leaned her back against the bed, her eyes staring blankly at an undefined spot. She forgot the feeling of pain from wounds that she didn’t know when they had formed, forgot the feeling of hunger while her stomach was fiercely protesting for food.

Mainly, nothing could get through to her ears anymore. She had run out of tears from crying too much, her voice hoarse from screaming too loudly. Her whole body was exhausted, sitting curled up on the floor, her back against the bed. Both her legs and arms were shackled, she couldn’t run far.

She was no different from a pet in their eyes. A bird that couldn’t spread its wings to fly, trapped in a cage, no different from those rare animals that needed protection.

It had been one month since the last time she had seen the world outside. Her work was left behind, she disappeared without a trace. The police and her boss had tried to search, but failed. So what? They would never find her anyway. From the very beginning, her kidnapping had been a planned scheme. That bizarre circus that came to the town where she lived was truly not normal! They cut off all her connections with the outside world, removed suspicions from the area of investigation, making her lose the last lifeline she had. Now, she couldn’t escape.

Her eyes had lost their light, no longer showing the joy she once had. Her body was covered with wounds carefully bandaged by someone, making her no longer have the desire to cut them open just so that person would have an excuse to touch her. She looked no different from a living corpse, thin and weak from not eating for several days. Dark circles surrounded her eyes from lack of sleep, mostly because she was too afraid. Afraid that if she slept, that man would act. She wanted to get out of here, wanted to escape from the cage that imprisoned her and the freedom that once belonged to her.

But how?

Well, even if she escaped, who would be waiting for her at home anyway? She had no real relatives, because by the time she was aware of things, she already knew she was in an orphanage. She had been independent since she was little, so after turning 18, she moved out to live on her own without any trouble.

But maybe, there was still one person who would wait for her return, the only person who had ever given her the love of a mother when she was lonely, when she was lost - the teacher at the orphanage. The one who taught her kindness, who sang lullabies whenever she was bullied and too scared to sleep. Would that person open her arms to welcome her back? If that were true, at least she still had a purpose to live for. She wanted to visit her, she wanted to buy her a new warm set of clothes for this winter.

She noticed the tray with a bowl of soup near the door. It had been sitting there for over three hours, ever since Pierrot insisted that she eat but was then called away by Jester to perform. Anyway, she hadn’t eaten anything for two days. Even drinking water had become unpleasant, and she only drank when she was too thirsty to bear it. Living in this tent was no different from living in a prison. She missed home, missed those tiring workdays, missed the comfortable bed at home, missed the simple, hurried meals.

...

No, she couldn’t die so meaninglessly. What was that about giving up, not wanting to live anymore?! Was she really going to bow her head and die before these monsters? How humiliating! Her life had been a mess since the beginning anyway, so what was this compared to it? Moreover, Pierrot might actually care for her, so maybe she still had a chance to get out. Was she really going to die like a bird trapped in a cage?

No! As long as she was alive, there was still hope. She could still escape. Even if she didn’t know when, she wouldn’t give up. Yes, as a human being, she would die as a human being. She wouldn’t let those stronger than her decide her fate.

After thinking that, Camellina slapped herself hard across the face. She couldn’t give up, and she needed to stay clear-headed to come up with a complete plan. She would escape from here, run away from this place and never look back.

But... what about Pierrot? Everything he did was because he wanted to keep her by his side, wanted her love. Would using him to escape be a terrible idea?

No! She couldn’t falter. After all, he was also the one who had cornered her like this, what choice did she have?

If she wanted to escape, she needed strength, and to have strength, she needed to eat. She had to stay alive. Leaning her body against the wall for support, she stood up, wobbling a bit as she walked toward the bowl of soup by the door. Although it had gone cold, its scent of onions and coriander still lingered. She wanted to quickly gulp it down, but hesitated for a moment, embarrassed. After all, she was acting like a sulking child, refusing to eat for days and now eating again. It didn’t look mature at all. Oh well, she needed food; her stomach was growling in protest. She was too tired to think any further.

Without any hesitation, she held the bowl with both hands and drank almost all of the soup in one go. The delicious taste of the soup touched her tongue, whose sense of taste had long gone numb. An explosion of flavor in her mouth spun Camellina around like a pinwheel. She moaned in pleasure, also because it had been so long since she had felt her sense of taste again. But when she tasted it once more, she noticed something a little strange.

“Why does the soup taste...a bit...”

Drip.

Drip.

Two drops of dark red liquid fell into the bowl. She stared blankly at it, curiously raising her hand to her nose. She wiped across it. Wet. She looked down.

Her hand was full of blood, all blood. It flowed like a flood, pouring down like a broken faucet, each drop falling onto the floor. She felt dizzy, her legs no longer steady, staggering backward before collapsing onto the ground in the most pathetic way possible. Why was this happening? She had been completely fine, so why was there suddenly blood? Then she remembered: the only thing she had touched until now was the bowl of soup. There was poison in the soup!

Why? Could it be that Pierrot wanted to get rid of her?

No way.

She immediately pushed that thought out of her mind. There was no way Pierrot would kill her in such a manner. Then who? If anyone was capable, it could only be The Doctor—the circus’s only physician with enough knowledge to make poison, but she had never interacted much with him. Then there was only one other possibility, someone who had been irritated by her for a long time and had wanted to get rid of her ever since discovering her existence in the circus—Jester.

Bastard!

She could feel the poison quickly spreading through her body, each drop destroying the internal organs it passed. Camellina writhed in pain on the ground, her whole body trembling violently. She opened her mouth but couldn’t even scream. The wounds that had been healing tore open again, blood soaking through the pure white bandages. Her voice was hoarse, only able to produce unclear, broken sounds. Her fragile, exhausted body allowed the poison to crush her insides easily, making her weaker than ever.

The anger that had been gnawing at her finally burst out. How dare they do this to her? What had she ever done to them? All she had ever done was good, yet she was dragged into their monstrous game. Never since coming here had she felt joy, only agony and rage.

The freedom she was never supposed to need permission for had now been stripped away.

How many people had died each time she smelled the metallic scent in that pink tent?

And those damned monsters of the circus... how many children had lost their loved ones, their only shelter, among the victims caused by them?

It was all so unreasonable, so unfair!

The consequences they caused affected other innocent people!

....

Why was she even angry?

Would her anger solve anything now?

She couldn’t do anything to them. Imprisoned, weak, alone. She couldn’t possibly fight them. She was just one human facing five monsters of unknown origin and unknown strength. Just one of their grips was enough to make her scream in pain. So what could she even do?

No, she didn’t want to die yet. She hadn’t seen that person one last time. There were still things she wanted to say, things she hadn’t yet bought to give to her. Summoning every last bit of strength, she struggled to get up, dragging her broken body toward the curtain that separated her from the world outside. Blood soaked through the bandages, forming streams across her body and dripping onto the floor. Every movement was torture. Each muscle, each nerve pushing her to act, even as they too were dying from the poison. Her hand reached out instinctively for freedom, that burning hope like a pair of wings driving her closer to the boundary. She lunged forward, desperate to see the sky once more, but...

Thump!

She fell hard to the ground, held back by that thing. Trembling from the impact, she turned her head. Ah, right...How could she forget such a cruel truth? A caged bird of value will always be kept from flying away. Her desperate wish to deny reality had made her forget she was chained to the bed. With her current strength, even if she cut off her own foot, she wouldn’t get far. She would die soon.

Tears spilled. Feeling pitiful, she raised her eyes toward the door in helplessness. Her lips were pressed tight, pale from blood loss. She wanted to blame someone, so she blamed the heavens for letting this happen to her, only to laugh at herself for blaming something as nonexistent as God. Even if He existed, He wouldn’t save her.

Her vision blurred as she stared hazily at the pool of blood soaking into her clothes. Exhausted, she forced herself up again, crawling onto the bed. At least she wanted to die a little more comfortably. Her pupils trembled, unfocused eyes turning toward the door, waiting for a miracle that would never come.

How ridiculous, what kind of miracle would happen here?

Humans can be so foolish. Knowing death is near, yet still hoping, still reaching for something beyond their grasp. But isn’t that what we all do? Hope itself is a symbol of the will to live; as long as it still burns, it means they still crave something. Perhaps to the point of obsession. They’ll chase it until they have it, and as long as they do, they’ll have a reason to keep walking through life. They cling to it like a rope tying them to existence, until it withers and turns to ash.

Yes, humans are foolish. But if that foolishness keeps them alive, then so be it...

...

Camellina knew she was going to die.

Of course she did, how could she not? With that much blood loss, saving her was impossible. The poison was eating away at her organs and cells; she wouldn’t last long. The pain was excruciating, blood poured out from within her mouth, choking her in fits of coughing. Her body screamed, gurgling noises echoing grotesquely like a looping video, stomach acid reacting violently inside. She grimaced, curling into herself, her tears long dried. Every movement now was torment, every breath torture.

It hurts so much...

Why didn’t he just kill her quickly? That damned Jester.

Did he want her to perform for him even before dying?

“It hurts...” she whispered, her dry throat now slick enough with blood to let the words slip out. Her ears rang. Suddenly, a crash. Glass shattering. Her weary eyes strained to see who the large shadow at the door belonged to. She saw... her orphanage teacher, standing there, arms wide open, smiling at her. Her breath quickened, her heart, slowing moments ago, began to beat faster, as if revived by illusion. Her hand reached out unconsciously.

Teacher... you came to take me home?

“Camellina!” Pierrot’s voice rang out as he ran to her, the shout yanking her out of the dream. Ah, so it was him. The kindest memory she had was that gentle motherly figure surrounded by children at the orphanage. She had almost forgotten Pierrot. Maybe she still couldn’t accept the cruel, stupid reality she was living in.

He lifted her limp, blood-covered body, smearing red across his outfit as he pulled her into his arms. She had once resisted his tenderness, but now had no strength to push him away. He held her as if she’d shatter if he didn’t. His voice trembled as he pressed his ear to her chest, desperate to hear her heartbeat. “What happened to you? Camellina, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me.”

She said nothing, couldn’t. Of the five people in this twisted circus, Pierrot was perhaps the only one who treated her kindly, even though he was the one who brought her into this hell. Sweet Pierrot, who just wanted to be loved, stepping into sin; a paper rose full of thorns, yet more fragile than any bloom.

She softly called his name, a weak smile on her lips. “Pierrot...”

God, that cry cut like a knife, like a farewell without knowing when they’d meet again. He trembled, gripping her hand tightly, shaking his head in madness. Then, as if remembering something, he turned toward the exit and screamed, “DOCTOR! DOCTOR!” His shouts drew the attention of everyone still inside the circus grounds, but he didn’t care who heard him anymore. The one he loved, the girl with the radiant smile and gentle heart, the one who lit up his darkened world, was dying in his arms. His light was fading. Her breaths were growing weaker by the second, her body trembling and twisting in pain. Terrified, he held her close, tears streaming uncontrollably. Why? Just a few hours ago she was fine. He had taken care of her carefully, even though she hadn’t eaten, she shouldn’t have died. Unless...

His eyes darted around the room and stopped at the corner. The bowl of soup lay spilled, a little still dripping out, with drops of blood staining the rim. If he wasn’t mistaken, the soup had been poisoned. Only Doctor could create toxins of that kind. Judging by her condition, the poison must’ve been incredibly strong but Doctor would never touch something that wasn’t his, but what if...someone important enough ordered him to...

Jester?

“What happened?” Doctor entered, his tone as flat as ever, as if he already knew. The rest of the circus troupe followed behind. The stench of blood hit them immediately, across the floor were pools and trails of it, some fresh, some already dry. Pierrot’s bed was soaked dark red. She lay there helplessly in his arms, staring up at the blurry, multicolored figures she knew all too well. It looked as though they had planned this together, all except Pierrot. They knew he wouldn’t agree, would try to stop them, so they had acted behind his back. What surprised them most was that Pierrot, who’d always stayed in character no matter what, had thrown it all away for a human girl. None of them expected her death to shake him this much.

Pierrot pleaded, eyes full of pain as he looked at Doctor. “Please, I’m begging you... save her.” Doctor stepped closer, pressed his fingers to her neck to check her pulse, then drew back. Nothing more. He shook his head. “She’s helpless now.”

“No... no... please, don’t take her too,” Pierrot gasped, lowering his face onto her weakening body. His tears wouldn’t stop. He was losing her.

Then, a faint warmth brushed against his cheek. Pierrot’s head jerked up. Each breath tore at her lungs, but Camellina still tried to speak. “...Well... looks like... I’m dying, huh?” She smiled faintly through the pain. After a few coughs, blood bubbled out from her mouth, but she swallowed it back, her trembling hand still pressing weakly against his cheek. Not for long. Soon, even her hand lost strength. It fell, but Pierrot caught it and pressed it against his face, unwilling to let the warmth fade. He wanted to remember it forever. She whispered, “I... miss the sky... I forgot... what color... it was.”

Her voice broke apart, saying whatever words she could manage. Camellina smiled bitterly at her own pitiful end. Dying like this, what a shame, she thought. Pierrot was helpless, his eyes full of the same desperate hope she’d once had, praying for some miracle. His voice shook. “I’ll take you to see it. I’ll let you look at it as long as you want. Just... please, stay with me, Camellina.”

Maybe death was its own kind of freedom. Clinging to a life bound in chains wasn’t much different from dying anyway. Better to let go, stop thinking.

“I’m sorry, Pierrot... I guess... I can’t.” Even now, she wondered how she was still able to talk, lips curving into a faint smile. Guilt gnawed at him. He should’ve been there. He should’ve watched over her. He should’ve—

But “should’ve” changes nothing.

“Don’t cry... don’t cry, okay? It just... hurts a little... I’ll sleep... and it’ll be fine...” Stop hoping, Camellina, you’re dying soon. Pierrot clutched her cold hand tightly, terrified that if he let go, she’d vanish, that if he loosened his grip, she’d leave him behind in loneliness and unhealed wounds. She smiled, hand weakly caressing his face. “Hey... Pierrot...” she whispered. “How was... your day? Did anyone... bully you?”

Pierrot didn’t answer. It didn’t matter what he’d done today, but this was the worst day of his life. Camellina spoke again, her words faint. “No one... bothered you... right? You have to... learn to stand up for... yourself now... I can’t protect... you anymore... at least... hit back... okay?” Every word she spoke seemed to take a lifetime, each breath stealing what little life she had left. Her mind drifted, thoughts tangled, speech slurred into whatever floated up.

...

Tears welled up again, sliding down her cheeks and mixing with the drying blood on her face. The witnesses stood silent. Maybe they felt a twinge of guilt for letting her die so soon without knowing her well, or maybe they were simply watching the tragic end of a moving short play. Camellina didn’t care. They’d wanted her dead anyway. But she couldn’t hold back her feelings anymore. She sobbed, lips trembling. “I don’t... want to die... I haven’t done... anything yet. I still... want to do... so many things. I still... want to see my mother... one last time. I... don’t want to die Pierrot...”

Pierrot was stunned and so were the others. He’d been watching her for a long time, yet never once had he seen her contact or mention any family. The entire circus knew that. She’d even told them herself she was born in an orphanage. So who was this “mother” she spoke of now?

While they exchanged confused looks, another fit of coughing snapped their attention back to her. Her face was weary now, as though she had finally given up. Her consciousness was fading, yet she still clung to life with what little strength she had left. Camellina wanted to live, yet it was when she wanted it most that life betrayed her. There was no feeling crueler than that.

Maybe she was accepting death. She wasn’t resisting anymore, because she knew there was nowhere left to go. She was ready to let her blood water the red spider lilies and wait for Death to take her away.

“Let’s see... what did I... forget to say? ...Oh right... there’s one more thing... I need to tell you.” Her fingers traced the hand she still held, and she smiled, soft and pure. A smile he hadn’t seen in so long. “Pierrot...”

“I love... you.”

All five froze. None of them could believe what they’d just heard. Harlequin and Pierrot were stunned most of all, especially the green-clad jester. He refused to understand. How could she possibly love the man who had dragged her into this end? Was she delirious? Or was that confession real? He wanted an answer, but she was the only one who could give it, and she was slipping away.

Love, that strange, tangled thing humans feel, had just been spoken so lightly by her. He couldn’t comprehend it. And now regret burned him alive. He regretted agreeing to that damned plan, to kill her. He regretted thinking a kind fool like her could ever be a threat. He regretted letting her die this soon.

He stared at the fragile body in Pierrot’s arms, covered in blood. Her limbs, her hair, her clothes, even the face he remembered so clearly, once lit by a bright, gentle smile, were now soaked red. That girl had been so happy once. Not like now, thin, hollow-eyed, tired. And yet that blinding smile appeared again, as if she were finally at peace. She was escaping them. He wanted to stop her, to keep her close, to see her smile for him, not for Pierrot.

How foolish. To him, she had only ever been an amusement, something to satisfy his curiosity. A puppet he could control, a toy to pit against Pierrot. That was all she ever was to him. That was all she’d ever be.

To Jester, to Ticket Taker, to Doctor, her death was no different from the countless others who had bled out in that pink tent. They would never understand what Pierrot felt for Camellina. They hadn’t seen enough. To them, she was just another human plaything, something to fear, to toy with, and to discard. They despised humans. Especially Pierrot, who was too sensitive for his own good, too easily hurt by the very species he still pitied. Keeping her around was a ticking bomb they needed to defuse.

Killing her was inevitable. The ending was always going to be the same.

Pierrot didn’t want to believe what he’d heard, but he knew it was real. All their moments together came flooding back. When everything was still normal, she used to greet him with a smile, talk softly whenever he stopped by the café where she worked. Seeing each other had become their quiet routine. She’d even admitted she looked forward to it every day. But that all changed when the circus had to leave. He’d kidnapped her, to keep her near him. And she’d stopped smiling, stopped speaking, stopped eating. She hid in corners, hurting herself, refusing his touch, staying awake for days in fear of what he might do if she ever let her guard down.

He’d been too greedy. He realized that now. He’d wanted her to himself, forgetting she was human. No, that wasn’t true. He’d known all along. But her warmth had felt too real to resist. Like a wild beast bound by instinct, the strong devour the weak, that was nature. Humans weren’t exempt, nor were they. He had dragged her into his world, a world she didn’t belong to. She was too fragile, too human. In a place like this, she’d never survive. His family would never accept her. They’d rip her apart with claws and teeth.

He was the one who killed her.

...

Too late for regret now. She was dying. What could he possibly save?

“Camellina, I love you... please, stay with me... please don’t go...” His voice broke as he buried his face into her chest. He wanted her forever, to hold her, love her, the way she’d once been kind to him. Such blind, consuming emotion. Why did fate tear them apart? She smiled faintly, brushing her fingers through his silver hair, now sticky with blood. “Sorry... I... took too long... It’s hard... to accept it...”

“I told you I’d wait! I’d wait my whole life if I had to! Camellina, so please...” He shook his head violently. He couldn’t accept this, couldn’t bear to watch her die in his arms. Pierrot held her tightly, pressing his ear to her chest, desperate to hear the fading heartbeat. Camellina gazed upward, her vision dimming. “I’m... a little tired... sleepy too... later... wake me... up...”

Her eyes closed. “...Okay?” she whispered.

That night, Camellina died on Pierrot’s bed. Her blood soaking the sheets, dripping in slow, steady streams onto the cold floor.

...

A day later, she was still lying there, her body clean and neat, dressed in new clothes, the bed replaced. Her corpse had stiffened, flesh starting to decay, and no matter how hard Pierrot shook her, she wouldn’t wake.

On the second day, members of the grotesque circus heard the cracking of bones and the wet, squelching sound of flesh being chewed from Pierrot’s tent.

By the third day, her body had vanished from the bed, and Pierrot was found lying on the infirmary cot under the Doctor’s care.

On the fourth day, the circus closed, preparing for its journey to a new region. The tents were dismantled one by one, everything cleaned to perfection.

On the fifth day, they disappeared from the city as though they had never been there at all, silent and unseen, like their deeds had never happened.

A week later, they found a new site to set up the circus. It took a whole day to arrange, though they were used to it by now. Pierrot sat on his bed, the feeling was familiar, yet far away. In his hands, he carefully held a small chest, freshly made and well preserved. He opened it gently, every movement deliberate, as if afraid to harm it.

Inside lay Camellina, eyes closed as though in sleep, lips frozen in a faint smile as if lost in a pleasant dream. Her long brown hair had been combed and tied just like she used to wear it, resting neatly inside. Her body was nowhere to be found, only her head, severed and preserved with care. Pierrot’s hand brushed her cold, lifeless cheek. He smiled softly, gazing at the head with tender love, whispering, “Welcome home, Camellina.”

Now no one could ever separate them again.

...

Oh, Camellina, the girl of misfortune.

A tragic ending, a play of sorrow and regret.

A life unfinished, cut short before the wings could spread.

Fate itself divided us, human and monster.

I wonder about that old fairytale...

What is love, truly? Does a happy ending even exist?

Come now, take a bow before the audience.

The script is finished. The curtain falls here.

...

Isn’t it right?

The wind swept through the white flower field, light as a breath. Small flowers hugged the ground, swaying with the grass, rippling like tiny waves across the space. In the distance, a large tree stood alone, its dark brown trunk casting a shadow on the ground around it. In the sky, a round bright object emitted a gentle light, not glaring, just like the lingering warmth of autumn. Clouds drifted slowly, white and soft like cotton candy, reflecting the light into pale silver hues. The entire field was so quiet and pure that simply standing still, one could hear the faint stirrings of peace carried in the wind.

Camellina lay there, amidst the white flowers stretching to the horizon. The wind brushed past, carrying the chill of the waning afternoon, lifting the thin petals to flutter over the ground. She felt nothing. Neither cold nor pain remained, only the sensation of her body gradually merging with the earth, light as smoke dispersing in the breeze.

She thought, how long had it been since she last ate cotton candy? That sweet, throat-tingling treat that stuck to her lips, once making her laugh as the sugar slowly dissolved on her tongue. Now she wanted it again, even knowing that sweetness had once made her nauseated. Perhaps it was the only thing that reminded her life had once been this sweet.

Everything else had drifted away. Worries, faces, words left unsaid. She was tired, truly tired. No longer wanting to remember, to understand, just to lie quietly amidst this silent white, letting the wind and autumn light lull her into her final sleep. She only wished, if possible, that this moment wouldn’t pass too quickly. Even one more breath, she wanted to preserve this fragile peace she had never touched in her life.

Camellina didn’t know how much time had passed. Everything around her remained silent, as though the world had forgotten the concept of motion. She raised her hand to her stomach, a reflex without reason, just a leftover habit of the body. At that very moment, memories surged: fragmented, scattered, yet enough to make her heart tighten even though it no longer beat.

She remembered her end. Not a sleep, but a pain so deep she no longer recognized herself. Everything within her had been drained, dissolved, and extinguished. Now all was silent, so much so that she heard nothing but the emptiness spreading. An absolute, heavy silence, yet strangely carrying a sense of release.

“Is this… heaven?” she asked herself, without expecting an answer. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t there. Something in this air was too still, too quiet, as if the world had stopped caring whether she existed. No joy, no saving light, only a faded void, and she, lying within it, felt no desire to escape.

Then a butterfly appeared, drifting into her sight. Its wings shimmered white with hints of grey-purple, hazy like smoke yet bright as dew, so radiant it seemed almost unreal. It fluttered a few circles before resting on her nose, its wings spreading wide, covering the entire sky. Camellina didn’t move, letting it stay. Through the soft glow emanating from its delicate wings, she felt a strange warmth seeping through the cracks in her mind, as if someone gently touched the places that hurt most. Not to heal, only to whisper that it was okay to rest.

A soft sound echoed in the silence. A giggle, light as wind skimming over water. Camellina jolted. She hadn’t thought anyone else was there. Her heart no longer beat, yet in that moment, she felt a faint current run down her spine. Instinct made her wary, wanting to look around, but the butterfly’s wings still shielded her vision, leaving only dim light and gentle breath.

A voice spoke, so close it felt as if it were right at her ear. Soft, tinged with playful teasing, like coaxing a child awake from a bad dream.“I’m sorry for disappointing you.”A brief pause, then the voice carried a faint laugh in each word. “But this isn’t heaven.”

The butterfly flicked its wings again, and the wind drifted past. In the faint light, she still couldn’t see the face, only sensing a presence, intimate yet distant, as if someone were watching her through a mist. In that voice, somewhere deep, was something that felt… familiar.

Had she heard this voice before?

The butterfly folded its wings like a curtain being drawn. Light filtered through, soft yet bright, making Camellina blink several times before realizing a figure was gradually forming before her. The girl stood in the sunlight, a delicate silhouette seemingly painted from mist and light. Her face was obscured by the backlight, only soft contours visible, a high nose, and skin reflecting pale golden light.

Her hair was tied neatly at the back, with a few stray strands falling loose, drifting with the wind. She gently tucked them behind her ear. The motion slow, soft, and natural, as if she’d done it a thousand times before. The hem of her long dress swayed with each breath of air, giving her an ethereal grace, blurring the line between person and mirage made of sunlight. She smiled, a kind, tender smile, as calm as light touching water. It wasn’t radiant nor distant, just enough to warm the air around Camellina, melting every ounce of caution within her.

The butterfly stirred, as if it had heard a familiar call. It rose, circling once in the light, then landed on the girl’s fingertip. Her hand had been waiting, already extended, the gesture so gentle it felt like an old ritual. The wings quivered, glowing white laced with grayish violet, casting a soft shimmer across her skin. The girl tilted her head slightly, gazing at the tiny creature, still smiling, while Camellina could only watch, uncertain if this was reunion or someone else’s dream.

Camellina braced her hands on the ground, slowly sitting up, her movements awkward, as though her body still resisted motion. At the same time, the girl lowered herself, crouching before her. For the first time, Camellina saw her face clearly. A gentle, easy smile, almost soothing. Deep violet eyes watched her quietly, no judgment, no demand, only a faint trace of concern that made something in Camellina’s chest stir. A few dark strands slipped from the bun, brushing against the white petals beneath them. Hair and flowers blurred together until the boundary disappeared. The girl looked like a part of this place, as if the entire field existed for her alone.

The distance between them was close enough that Camellina could feel her breath, smell the faint scent of grass after rain. The intimacy made her cheeks flush, her heart skip.

Wasn’t she… standing a bit too close?

The thought flashed by, and she instinctively leaned back, creating space between them, embarrassed and wary at once. Her voice came out soft but edged with firmness.

“Who are you? If this isn’t heaven… then where exactly am I?”

The last note trembled, but her tone was strong enough to show she wasn’t just asking, she was testing whether this stranger was a threat.

“How rude of me,” the girl said, her voice clear and airy as breath. “I’m Fumiko, dear one. Or… call me however you like. As for now, you’re in my field of flowers.”

Camellina froze. "Ah, sorry. I didn't know how I got here in the first place..." A clumsy apology slipped from her lips, tangled in confusion and disbelief. She said she didn’t know this place, that it all felt like a dream. Fumiko only smiled, lifting a warm hand to brush the wind-tossed strands from Camellina’s hair. Her tone was low, still carrying that same gentle calm. “It’s alright. You’ll be coming back here often, sooner or later.”

She turned, glancing around. Petals rose into the air, swirling in the breeze, dancing to an unnamed melody. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”

Fumiko’s eyes softened, calm as autumn water. She looked around as the light and wind moved between them, then turned back, speaking as if recounting something long known.

“When a story ends, souls find their way home, back to where they belong. You’re no exception. So don’t worry, you’re home now.”

Camellina blinked. The words drifted into her mind like mist, gentle, but cold. She frowned slightly, trying to catch their meaning.

“I… don’t quite understand.” Her voice wavered, then steadied. “You mean… you know I’m dead?”

Fumiko looked at her, the smile fading. For a heartbeat, Camellina saw sorrow flicker in those violet eyes, so real it tightened her chest. The question that seemed harmless hung heavy between them. No answer came, but none was needed. That quiet pain, like grief for something that could never be undone, spoke louder than any word.

Warmth spread faintly through Camellina’s chest, not joy, but the soft easing that follows too much pain. Somehow, she felt lighter. At least someone knew. At least someone cared.

Fumiko pressed her lips together, keeping a small smile though her eyes betrayed their sadness. It wasn’t pity, but the weary compassion of one who had seen too much. Her voice was low and steady.

“I’ll tell you later. The wind and time will finish the story for you. The answers aren’t only in words, but in what you’ll live through next. Your journey has only just begun. Take the time to understand yourself first.”

Then she bent forward slightly, eyes glinting with mischief as she tapped Camellina’s nose.

“For now, the only thing you should worry about… is you, Camellina.” Her tone was light as sun through clouds. Tender, with a teasing warmth.

Camellina tilted her head, doubt flickering in her eyes. Something didn’t fit, a small, sharp thought brushed her mind like a splinter of glass. Her voice came rough with emotion.

“Wait… how do you know my name?”

Fumiko didn’t answer. Her gaze only softened, carrying a sorrow that defied words. Then, instead of replying, she slowly rose to her feet, her skirt swaying in the breeze. She extended her hand , palm open toward Camellina. No command, no insistence. Just a quiet invitation, steady, patient.

Camellina stared at that hand for a long time. A small but fierce battle flickered behind her eyes. She knew what the gesture meant. Trust. Step forward. Begin again. But trust had betrayed her before, torn her apart piece by piece. She feared that her own weakness might lead her back into another end, dark, suffocating, like the hell she once fell through.

And yet, beneath that fear, something stirred. A faint warmth rising from deep inside — hope. Fragile, but alive. The only thing left unbroken. She wanted to believe, just once more. Believe that she could live, could rewrite the pages that had been ripped from her story.

She took a slow, steady breath and stood. Their eyes met, the silence between them filled only by the wind and a phantom heartbeat. Camellina reached out, clasping Fumiko’s hand. A smile bloomed on her lips, imperfect, trembling, but so genuine it ached to see. It was the first smile after the depths of sorrow, the smile of someone brave enough to believe again.

Fumiko chuckled softly, joy radiating from her face. She drew Camellina into her arms, holding her tight, warm and steady, as if trying to gather all the broken fragments inside her. A quivering breath, then her voice came, gentle yet carrying a thousand pent-up emotions.

“Welcome home, Camellina.”

For a moment, Camellina closed her eyes. Perhaps for the first time since death, she truly felt herself breathing again.

Words: 6677 (That's a lot, right?)

Fun facts: - IMV!Camellina has the habit of placing her hands on her stomach or rubbing it whenever she feels scared or her mood drops, as a self-soothing reaction. - She frequently experienced nightmares at night, repeatedly reliving that haunting moment, but as the time passed, the nightmare faded away thanks to some helps from the other members in her family (the other OCs). - Whenever she felt pain or discomfort in her stomach, Camellina would run to Fumiko, and there were even many times she woke up in the middle of the night and pounded on Fumiko’s bedroom door because she wanted Fumiko to check if she was okay (effects of poison). Nowadays, Camellina worries less, so check-ups are scheduled once a month to prevent her from stressing over her health. - During her first months living in the Imaginary Void, Camellina was often distracted and extremely fearful if anyone came too close; Fumiko was the only person who could approach her during this time. Now, Camellina only truly opens up about her issues to Fumiko and her close friend Evelyn (Pressure from Roblox) but she has returned to being herself: a cheerful person with a kind heart. Although she’s still afraid of crowds, she has opened up and grown more confident. - Camellina is also very good at looking after children (having once lived in an orphanage full of kids).

Actually, my original intention was never to have Fumiko appear in Camellina’s story, because I thought I would let Fumiko reveal herself in OC stories from other fandoms, for example something like Underverse and Sans AU, which could also be explained through the workings of the Imaginary Void. But Fumiko is the most important character among the four who influence my main storyline, so I thought it would be better if I could have her appear a little earlier.

🍄Closing note: I have a few new ideas for Camellina AUs, like Butcher!Camellina (she becomes a cannibal), Swap!Camellina (Camellina and Columbina switch places), or Possessed!Camellina (Columbina’s spirit haunts Camellina). But stories like these will definitely have to wait for updates and new plotlines from @nekoboydreams.

Again, thank you all for reading the story; I hope you had a good time (or at least, I hope so! ᵕ—ᴗ—). Right now, I’m really busy, so I won’t be writing for a while. I need to focus on more important things first, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask! I’ll try to make time to answer them. ( ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ )

If you want to know more about this AU, please arrive to this page: Information-about-IMV!Camellina.

Hello everyone! I know I said I’d be taking a break because of school, but quite a few of my friends have come to read my story and really liked it. They asked me some questions that I think deserve proper answers.

So, I’ll be explaining a bit about Camellina and IMV!Camellina! These are two completely different people from two alternate universes. Let me emphasize this again: they’re not from the same story, but from two separate plotlines. Here, Camellina is the original, the one I created and designed first. Meanwhile, IMV!Camellina exists in a parallel world, born right after the original Camellina’s story settled into its structure.

Below are some key differences between the two you might want to note:

1. Camellina (Original)

Has no combat experience

Her smile often looks forced

Cares deeply for the circus, sees it as her second home (mainly because she has nowhere else to go)

Close to them like family

Fearful (especially of death), craves freedom, and struggles with self-doubt

Shy around strangers, avoids crowds, usually stays near the circus

Hides her true feelings to please others (especially Jester)

2. IMV!Camellina

Has combat experience (trained by Haruko)

Smiles naturally and easily

Doesn’t care about the circus except for Pierrot, treats the others as strangers

Dislikes them like enemies, wants no connection (except with Pierrot)

Daring, unafraid of death, courageous

Friendly with people she knows, more confident, has a strong sense of justice (willing to help others), still uneasy in crowds but better than before

Freely expresses her feelings (she once glared straight at Jester without hesitation)

The biggest difference between them probably lies in their experiences—and their fates. One lived, the other died. Yes, that’s right. The original Camellina is still alive, but IMV!Camellina has already died. Since her soul no longer belongs to her world, she was sent back to the Imaginary Void. The original, however, still has a story left to live, a purpose not yet fulfilled, so she must stay in her world’s flow.

That said, they share some similarities despite living in different realities:

Helping others: still an important trait (though stronger in IMV!Camellina; the original tends to hesitate depending on who’s involved).

Desire for freedom: “Born human, live and die as a human.” (The original yearns for it more, while IMV!Camellina has already achieved the freedom she longed for.)

Likes: the color yellow, children, knitting, and making candy during her free time.

Honestly, I love both IMV!Camellina and the original equally. They’re both fascinating in their own ways and carry stories worth telling. I’m considering writing about IMV!Camellina’s story—or maybe a conversation between the two of them. Which one would you like me to write first?

Thank you so much for supporting my strange little stories. Even though I’m pretty busy, writing still brings me so much comfort and joy, and I’m really grateful that you find them interesting.

Guys! I think I’ve run out of story ideas! Since I don’t have enough information about the circus, I’ll wait until the next update. In the meantime, maybe I should focus on developing IMV (Imaginary Void) and my OCs first.

⚠️Warrning: The following is purely a fan theory and has no official connection to the current storyline of The Freak Circus. Please don’t take it as canon.

Well, um… how should I put this? I’m not really sure about my own theory, but it kept me up all night, so I’ll share my idea about Columbina.

After replaying The Freak Circus, I came up with a POSSIBILITY that might be plausible: Could Columbina actually be human? I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out. If you pay close attention to Columbina’s puppet in Harlequin’s story, you’ll notice that her wings and her body are attached together, almost like they were grafted on. Sure, I know it’s meant as a symbol to show she’s an angel in the story, but aren’t angels always tied to the image of humans? Or maybe it's just a fake wings?

And speaking of the five members of the circus, who have lived far longer than any human and traveled everywhere—don’t you think they’d be well aware of this fact? For beings who despise humanity so much, wouldn’t that kind of image feel like an insult? Yet, they still keep that idealized, almost human-like image for Columbina.

I think that for some reason, Columbina ended up staying with the circus—maybe she was also harmed by humans? Remember the moment when all five members ate her? Columbina was eaten before the old master of the circus, and I know they consumed her to gain more power. But what really makes me wonder is this: After eating the old master or Columbina, did they become human?

If Columbina was truly a monster and they ate her to increase their strength, then does their act of constantly eating humans mean it’s the way they maintain their human form? Or is it simply to keep themselves from starving? What does eating humans really mean to them, and how is it connected to Columbina?

Also, remember how the victims with pink tickets were always led into the pink tent? We all know pink has an extremely strong association with Columbina. So why were all the victims taken there before being devoured? That couldn’t have been just a coincidence, right?

Exactly! If we look at it as a “ritual,” then eating Columbina (and later humans) wasn’t just about survival or gaining strength, but more like a transformative act—a rite of passage that allowed them to maintain their form or marked their “rebirth” into something else.

The fact that all victims with pink tickets were led into the pink tent (a symbol strongly tied to Columbina) only strengthens this idea: it’s as if every act of eating humans afterward was a repetition of the original ritual—to reenact, commemorate, or preserve the power they first gained from consuming her. In other words, Columbina could very well be the “origin of the ritual”—the one who began the chain of cannibalism, turning it into a rule, a way of existence for the entire circus.

As for the angel part, I once read a book about angels (though I can’t remember where I read it), and there was one image that stuck with me: the False Angel. It immediately reminded me of Columbina. Could it be that she was hiding her true identity and pretending to be one of them just to be accepted? And only when the circus members ate her did they discover the truth—so from then on, the label of ‘angel’ became attached to her.

Perhaps it was by consuming her that they realized human flesh had such a powerful effect on them. And naturally, the next target would be the old circus master—whether out of the resentment and bitterness they had carried all that time, or maybe even as revenge for Columbina. Because if things hadn’t gone this far, they wouldn’t have had to eat her in the first place.

Personally, I don’t think this theory is necessarily true, but the fact remains—Columbina is still a mystery, one we’ll have to wait for future updates to uncover. And if she really has some connection to the MC, or is possibly even her reincarnation, then the idea of Columbina being human becomes even more convincing.

I’m not entirely certain, of course, but the thoughts I shared above are my personal take on Columbina. I’m really looking forward to the next update of the game and the mysteries we still need answers to.

Kitchen's story:

Pierrot: Good at cooking. (Househusband materials!)

Camellina: Knows the basic. (The worst she can do is burn the food and waste it)

Harlequins: Burn down the whole kitchen.

“Oh God! Fire!” Camellina screamed from the kitchen. Hearing that, Pierrot panicked and rushed off to find a fire extinguisher. She tried to put out the flames with the kitchen faucet while cursing without restraint. “Who the hell allowed this guy into the kitchen anyway?”

Harlequin stood to the side, chuckling as he kept teasing. “Come on, I was really hungry. And it’s not that ba—” Camellina screamed, “Stop joking around and just help me!” (The kitchen had already been scorched in one corner, though luckily not badly enough to call the fire department.)

2. Feelings:

Pierrot: Love Camellina, hate Harlequin.

Harlequin: Hate and love Pierrot, likes Camellina.

Camellina: Not sure how she is supposed to feel. (half hate half love)

Camellina was checking through the supply list to see if anything was missing when Pierrot stepped in to stand beside her. He watched her shyly, and of course, being stared at so directly was like getting bitten by a mosquito, Camellina turned back at once. Seeing that he had her attention, he mustered all his courage and asked, “My dearest Camel, would you like to go on a date with me today?”

Suddenly, a shadow darted in at lightning speed—Harlequin seized her hand and placed a light kiss upon it. “Or you could come with me. I’ll treat you exactly as you deserve.” He threw a scornful smile at the other man, and Pierrot frowned in anger.

Camellina froze, flustered and unsure how to respond to the two questions, when Pierrot cut in, his face darkening. “Of course she doesn’t want to go with you.” Harlequin immediately shot back, “Then I suppose the same goes for you.” The two were about to trade more words when Camellina finally spoke up. “You two, I already have plans with Jester. He asked me to go out with him to survey the town.”

The conversation ended there and, well, the two of them sulked at Jester for the rest of the day.

3. Fighting:

Harlequin: Mock and tease Pierrot whenever they pass by.

Pierrot: Bicker with him every time he does that.

Camellina: Somehow get involved into the fight without absolutely no reason.

Pierrot snapped in anger, shouting, “Stay the fuck away from Camel, you pieces of shit.” It was rare for him to raise his voice, which showed Harlequin had clearly gone too far this time. Still, that didn’t stop him from enjoying this fresh expression of fury—a breath of fresh air called “angry Pierrot” to brighten his dull day. Harlequin chuckled mockingly. “Or else… what? I bet she enjoys my d*ck more than she ever could yours.”

“Say that again and I’ll end you.” The man across from him ground his teeth, ready to lunge. Camellina—who had just crawled into the tent after work—had to come back out, either to avoid getting involved or simply because she was too tired to deal with them, they argued so often it had become sickening. She sighed and rubbed her face in exasperation. “Why am I always the one who is being dragged into their pointless fights?”

After that, she had to step back in to calm the two of them down before things got out of hand.

4. Food that they are going to buy:

Pierrot: Sweet food

Harlequin: Spicy food

Camellina:....Spice (Yes, she has a sweet tooth but also likes salty things like salt and chicken bouillon powder)

“Camellina, did you go out shopping for us?” Pierrot opened the bag she had just brought back, while she slumped over the dining table. She mumbled vaguely, pointing into the air in his direction. “That bag’s yours, the other one’s Harlequin’s. The rest I left in front of their tents.”

“So, where’s yours, Camel?” he asked, glancing around for her bag, but she waved him off. “I only bought one thing, it’s—”

Right then, Harlequin strolled in, wearing his usual sly grin. He pretended not to notice he’d cut her off, slipping in with a syrupy tone. “Oh, Camellina~ my dearest girl, did you buy something for me? How sweet! Allow this humble man to gift you a kiss of sincerity in return.” Without hesitation, he moved toward her. Instinct kicked in, Camellina leapt up from the table and darted behind Pierrot’s back, making his face flush red. “No need, no need, I don’t want your thanks!”

Pierrot shot Harlequin a warning glare, leaving him no choice but to sigh in mock disappointment. “Oh dear, you’ve broken my heart.” Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Pierrot turned to the girl he loved, who was still hiding behind him, and asked, “So, what did you end up buying for yourself?”

She giggled, holding up a small plastic jar. The label was in some language neither Pierrot nor Harlequin could make out—just a jumble of letters to their eyes. She gave it a shake. “It’s called Hao Hao salt, from Vietnam. Someone recommended it to me, said it’s amazing with fruit. And it really is! I can’t stop snacking on it. Even eating it plain, it’s sweet and tasty!” Camellina beamed with delight, while the two men could only stare. Yes, she was human, but sometimes the things she ate were so odd that even non-humans like them found it… concerning. (Just salt guys, she just eats salt, nothing like actual foods!)

5. Hairstyles:

Camellina: Likes to play with the others' hair.

Pierrot: Happily lets her play with it.

Harlequin: Is forced to let her play with it. (But secretly enjoys it)

Camellina had just finished working when she slumped wearily into a chair in the backstage wings where Pierrot usually stayed. Tilting her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. When she opened them again, the first thing she saw was Pierrot’s smiling face, his eyes fixed intently on her. She nearly toppled out of the chair, but managed to steady herself just in time. “Pierrot? You startled me. What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you. The Doctor said he saw you heading this way, so I came right over,” Pierrot answered, his face still a little flushed from having been so close to hers just moments ago. His head was bare, hair falling down on either side and brushing lightly against Camellina’s skin, making her shiver at the ticklish touch. “You’re still not wearing your hat? We’ve got to hand out flyers later, you know.”

“Actually… I lost the hair tie you gave me.” He lowered his head, guilt written across his face. In truth, he had kept it carefully, but during one of his chases after Harlequin, it must have slipped away somewhere. So that gloomy look he’d worn yesterday had been because of this. He went on, trying to explain himself. “I’ve already searched all the places I went, circling back a few times, but I couldn’t find it. I’m really sorry.”

Only God knows how much he treasured that hair tie, though in truth, anything she gave him was always guarded like a precious keepsake. Camellina let out a soft laugh. “I can give you another one, can’t I though? Come here, let me fix your hair.” Pierrot, who had been wearing such a guilty look, instantly perked up and sat lower so it’d be easier for her. From her bag, Camellina pulled out another tie and a comb, gently running it through his hair. In the end, she kept it mostly the same since he still had to head outside, but added two small braids near his bangs on either side, giving him a rather charming look.

Pierrot was too busy gazing at Camellina’s focused, radiant face to notice Harlequin slip into his tent. The blue jester caught sight of Pierrot’s lovestruck, foolish expression and rolled his eyes before tossing out a jab. “Hah, how childish. Pierrot, you really let her play with your hair like two little girls? And those braids—what a ridiculous, silly look.” The red jester bristled, about to spring up and start a fight, but a hand pressed him back down. Camellina kept her palm steady on Pierrot’s shoulder and turned to Harlequin with a smirk tugging at her lips.

A while later…

“What was it you said just now?” Pierrot’s voice carried a quiet, mocking laugh. Harlequin, his hair now tied into two neat little braids with his bangs still hanging forward, scowled like a sulky child and growled, “Shut up.” In the end, both of them kept the hairstyles all the way until the next day’s performance. (Pierrot had the back of his hair hidden, but he insisted on showing off the two small braids with his bangs. Harlequin, though he tucked most of his hair away under his hat, still ended up with the style intact.)

6. Hobbies and free times:

Camellina: Knitting.

Pierrot: Cooking.

Harlequin: Bothering the other two for entertainment.

In the kitchen, Pierrot was busy testing out a new recipe he’d just learned for dinner. At the dining table, Camellina sat absorbed in practicing a new knitting pattern. She was planning to make something with higher-quality yarn for the circus members to wear in the winter. Truth be told, they didn’t really need it, but someone had insisted she do it, and since she had the time, she just went along with it. She was still debating whether to make a sweater or a scarf when Harlequin suddenly appeared at the kitchen doorway. “Heeeyyy, my dearest Camel—…”

Pierrot whipped around, his face darkening and his whole body radiating danger. If Harlequin so much as took one step into the kitchen, he would grab him and throw him out. “Get out of here, Harlequin. There’s no place for you here.” Camellina didn’t look up, but still spoke to him. “Hi Harlequin, nice to see you, but you’d better turn around and go play somewhere else before I call Jester.”

Harlequin immediately scowled because there was, after all, a rule banning him from the kitchen. Frustrated at not being able to tease the two inside, he started plotting another way to annoy them both. He lifted a foot, about to step over. Pierrot spun around at once, growling a threat. But before he could touch the floor, Harlequin pulled his foot back and flashed a triumphant grin. They went through that old play again: the one outside snickering like crazy, the ones inside fuming and about to blow their tops. Camellina offered a light reminder, doesn't care at all Harlequin's doing. “Pierrot, be careful the food doesn’t burn, you’re still experimenting with it.”

7. How they handle in a situation?

Camellina: Maintain a polite attitude when resolving the issue just like what she learns from Ticket Taker.

Harlequin: Did the exact same things they did to him. (or them)

Pierrot: Does nothing—just waits until they’re satisfied and it’s over.(Ah — except if Camellina’s there, then not :D)

“Pierrot!” Camellina called out brightly as she ran toward the tall figure ahead. The red clown was handing out flyers, and at the sound of her familiar voice, he turned, his smile widening. But it fell almost instantly when he realized she wasn’t alone. Behind her was someone all too recognizable: Harlequin. Though Pierrot disliked his presence, he had no desire to stir up trouble—especially with Camellina beside them. Forcing a smile, he stepped toward her and the other man.

“Still not done with your work, slowpoke?” Harlequin chuckled. Pierrot could only glare at him, unable to do more. Speaking out in public, in front of others, wasn’t his role. Camellina sighed. “Don’t start trouble out here, Harlequin. You know full well he can’t talk back.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted,” Harlequin chuckled, eyeing the stack of flyers in Pierrot’s hands that were nearly ruined. Suddenly a stone came flying and struck Camellina on the head—hard. The impact stunned her and she immediately bowed her head from the pain. “Ouch...That hurts…”

Before Harlequin and Pierrot could make sense of what had happened, the stone had already rolled away on the ground. Camellina’s groan snapped them to attention; they scanned the crowd to find the attacker. About four meters away four people stood, laughing loudly. “Die, you freakish beasts!” one of them shouted, and two others clapped their hands in celebration.

Pierrot helped Camellina to her feet, glaring at the group. Even Harlequin had stopped smirking; he stared at the three with a hungry intensity as if he wanted to tear them apart. Camellina, afraid things would escalate, forced herself to steady her voice and walked over to speak to them.

“Excuse me, but I think you just threw a stone at me?” she said calmly, trying not to let her anger show. She remembered Ticker Taker’s advice. Seeing a lone girl approach, the men openly looked down on her and began mocking her. “A girl? Hah! Don’t you have the other two to deal with instead of coming to us?”

“Or… You just want to leave them and come hang out with us?” one of them said, placing a hand on Camellina’s shoulder—only to have it brushed off. She ground her teeth and said, “Touch me again and I’ll chop your arm off.”

“You brat, you wanna die—” he started, raising his hand, when another stone slammed into his head and forced him back. He yelled, “Who the hell did that?”

Harlequin stepped forward like a savior right behind Camellina. He set a hand on her shoulder and smiled broadly—but she knew this was no ordinary smile, Harlequin wanted blood. “Sir,” he said with false politeness, “I believe you dropped this item near our place, so I’d be delighted to return it to you in kind.”

“You…” the thug began, but something froze him and his friends in place. Pierrot stood looming just behind Harlequin and Camellina, his smile twisted, strained. The golden pupils of his eyes had narrowed to slits, making him look terrifying. The men had been about to bark back, but one look at that face sent them stumbling, then fleeing in panic.

The moment of relief didn’t last. Harlequin noticed Camellina’s head drooping, her strength was gone. That was when he caught the scent of blood. Pulling off her hat, he finally saw it: crimson soaking through, running down steadily. The wound wasn’t life-threatening, but the skin had split, bleeding heavily enough to alarm him. Pierrot rushed forward then, his eyes widening at the sight. Without a word, he snatched her from Harlequin’s arms and carried her toward the circus tent, his hold fierce and possessive. The green clown could only throw up his hands in exasperation at the red one’s jealousy—but still, he followed them back.

And of course, the “special guests” of those past few days were none other than some very familiar faces.

Well, since I can’t finish the story in time and still don’t have enough information about the circus, I was thinking of analyzing the Freak Trio first. The 7 facts above are actually my own ideas after replaying the game. I thought it would be fun if they really lived together and these kinds of things happened.

I'm so sorry, guys! It seems I took longer to finish my next fanfic about The Freak Circus than I expected. I have exams coming up soon (I'm in grade 12), and I'm trying my best to finish it. (Also, I messed up Jester's psychological personality analysis—I almost forgot he enjoys seeing people in pain) Honestly, I want to give you guys a WIP, but also don't want to spoil the fun, so I'll just explain a tiny little bit.

Let's just say that Jester SEES Columbina in Camellina (Gosh even their names sound alike). Don't get me wrong, Jester loves Camellina (Not sure if it is family love or romantic feeling) But some of her actions remind him of something. It gets really awkward whenever they talk to each other (More like Jester avoids Camellina, and then she senses something stranges, so she tries not to upset him by doing the same thing)

Their relationship is complicated. It gets even more complicated when Camellina is traumatized by violence and bullying (Two very different people). I plan to rewrite the story a bit after the exam and add some explanations about the circus and Camellina's relationships. Sorry again for the delay in finishing it, I will try my best! (Literature and Math are difficult please understand ;( I'm crying rn! )

Maybe I will be able to post it in this week, or will replace it with another post.

Pierrot: I'm afraid not my dear.

Harlequin: What is that? Something you find interesting?~

Ticket Taker: Hm, I don't recall anything named like that.

Doctor:....Nope.

Jester: I heard about it before from a book. It's a country in Asian. Small one indeed. But these days, that place is quite popular with foreign tourists.

Harlequin: Oh really? Mind tell us why suddenly you pay attention to it?

Camellina: My mom (creator) is from there.

...

Pierrot: I think I need to learn their language. Might have some words with your mother, my dear. (Camellina's hand in marriage)

Harlequin: Well, so do I. (He's going to stop it, for sure)

Ticket Taker: Perhaps I should do too in case we have a conversation. (The father wants to know more about his daughter)

Camellina: Guys, my mom knows English!

Doctor:....I want to see how she's like. (Sounds like you just want to eat her)

Jester: Should we pay a visit to the country? I'm thinking to the next location to go-.... (Oh no...)

Camellina: HELL NAH!!!!