* knife / heart

1965

Delilah Kwon is born on 23 July in Verum, Nova Terrae, to biological parents Kwon Hyun-ki and Jeon Soo-yeon. She is adopted by Kwon Hyun-ki and his wife, Leyla Sydin, on 25 July

1973

After weeks of sickness, Delilah is admitted into hospital and diagnosed with hemolytic uremic syndrome. Her father donates his kidney to her. This arouses Leyla’s suspicions on her adopted daughter’s origins.

1975

A huge fight between Leyla and Hyun-ki leads to his confession that Delilah is his biological daughter. The family falls apart. Leyla, once a doting mother, no longer acknowledges Delilah. Hyun-ki spends even more time at work and with Soo-yeon.

Delilah’s Nihilum abilities manifest. She manipulates her parents’ emotions, forcibly strengthening their love for each other as well as for her.

1976

Hyun-ki and Leyla die in a car crash when the brakes fail. The case is ruled an accident due to lack of evidence to prove otherwise.Delilah spends a year at an orphanage before Hadi Sydin, her adopted mother’s estranged brother finds her and brings her with him to Turkey.

1977

She meets her cousin, now adopted sister, ROBIN for the first time. Shaken by what she sees, Delilah works even harder to prove herself to her uncle in fear of being locked away as well.

1980

ROBIN is released from her prison; her desire for her father’s love and attention reminds Delilah of her adopted mother, whose life had revolved around her father.

1981

A murder of three circles the sky above Delilah. She notices them sometimes, watches them as they watch her, until they deem her worthy of initiation into Caedes Corvi.

An envelope with the insignia of a crow appears on her windowsill—Will you answer the Calling?

You have been judged and you are worthy. The Beast offers Delilah a desire and she asks for a second chance—at what though, she’s not exactly sure.

1983

Delilah is accepted into university, studying a Business degree. She interns at her uncle’s oil company during the summers.

1985

Officially joins Caedes Corvi after her 20th birthday.

1987

Graduates from her university course with Honours. Her plans to work her way up her uncle’s company and take over the business are ruined when he announces ROBIN as his sole heir.

Redirects all of her time and energy into Caedes Corvi.

1990

Caedes Corvi is dissolved following the disappearance of CROW. Left adrift, Delilah starts her own business in an attempt to find purpose in her life again—a venture philanthropy with a focus on environmental issues.

1993

The knock on her front door proves her right. She knows even without looking through the peephole that it is Kasimir on the other side, the sound of his knocks—three short raps, nothing more, nothing less—intimately familiar despite the years between now and the last time he’d showed up at her doorstep.

“You’re hurt,” is the first thing she says when she opens the door, reaching a hand up to brush her thumb along the edge of the cut on his brow bone. “Come,” she says, stepping aside to let him in. “I have a first aid kit in here.”

He looks like he wants to say something. She waits. 

In the end, he only offers her a nod in greeting before entering the apartment. How curious. It’s not like him at all to hold his tongue, not when she has given him permission to speak his mind. Not that he needs her permission—hadn’t needed it back when he had still looked to her as his leader, much less now when they stand on equal ground.

“Sit,” she tells him, gesturing to the couch as she makes her way to the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. When she returns, she finds him staring at the tea set she had placed on the coffee table. “That was sent to me the year I turned 19. They didn’t leave a name.”

A coming-of-age gift from her biological mother, if she had to wager a guess. Perhaps her way of trying to make up for her failure as a mother, but the lack of a note made it clear that she had no intentions to take on the role still. 

“I can make us some tea later,” she offers as she takes a seat directly on the coffee table and places the first aid kit next to her.

It’s only when she presses a cotton pad doused with antiseptic gently against Kas’ cut that he finally speaks. A soft, imploring, Why?

Why, indeed. Their little sect has been torn apart from the inside out, people they’d known, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with, loved are dead, and yet here she is trying to play house. As if they’re not enemies, as if she hasn’t thought of shoving her fist into his chest and clawing his beating heart out, as if he hasn’t thought to do the same to her. 

A pause, followed by an admission: “I’m tired.” She lifts the cotton, hums softly to herself when she confirms that the cut isn’t as serious as the crusted layer of blood over it had implied. “And I miss you.” He stiffens at her words, but doesn’t pull away. She pretends not to notice.

Silence blankets them again after that, and she makes quick work of cleaning and dressing the cut. Her fingertips linger on the edge of the medical tape before sliding down the side of his face until her palm presses against his jaw. “You said you would love me, even if I hurt you.” He watches her watch him, says nothing about the way her fingers tremble against his skin. “Do your words still count? Do you still love me?”

Pulling her hand back from his face, she places it against his chest instead. She doesn’t need to do this, in order to see what he’s feeling, but the steady, rhythmic pumping under her palm is comforting. His tangled threads are familiar, but for the first time, she dives deeper than she has ever allowed herself to before, searching for that one thread she’s never dared to until now.

It’s there.

He loves her, despite everything. Her foolish brother, her walking heart.

“Tea,” she announces, cradling her hand against her own chest as she stands up. If she could see her own feelings, she knows there would be a thread for him too. She imagines it growing, out of her chest and winding its way around her neck. The truth is this: she loves him, but her love is a noose—if not for herself, then for him.

She retrieves the kettle and a jar of ginger slices soaked in honey from the kitchen, kneeling at the outside edge of the coffee table when she returns. “This is ginger tea,” she says, placing the slices in the pot together with a few teaspoons of loose tea leaves. “It’s good for the stomach.”

Her own way of saying she loves him, too. 

The pot is filled with hot water, and she remains on her knees across from him as she waits for the tea to steep. Neither of them say anything—what is there to say, really? Perhaps she owes him an apology for the knife in his back, but she does not want to ruin this unspoken truce by reminding him of her propensity for monstrous acts.

She pours the tea into the prepared tea cups, nudging both towards Kasimir. A show of trust. He lifts one cup from the tray and places it in front of himself, although he doesn’t take a sip until she does from hers. “It’s good,” he says, and for the first time since he’d stepped foot in her apartment, he finally lets his guard down, tension easing out of his shoulders with every sip of the warm tea. “Thank you.”

A waiting game ensues, one that he is not aware he is a participant of, not until he’s hit by a wave of nausea, his skin starting to burn as his throat closes. He gasps something that might be her name, and she stands, reaching across the coffee table to grasp his hand. The cup of tea that had been in his hand shatters at his feet, but the warmth of it lingers on his fingers. She tugs his hand away from where he’s wrapped it around his own neck, keeping him from trying to tear his throat out. 

“It was always going to come down to this.” Pain radiates from her fingers as they’re crushed by the strength of a dying man’s grip, but she doesn’t pull away. “I love you, Kas, but either one of us was going to die today, I made sure of it. The choice was yours.”