The diner in front of you remains undeterred. 

♡ It’s the type you’d  imagine a tourist’s spot like Foothill Town would harbor, and honestly, how you even managed to land a job here is unfathomable. You can still recall the swathe of pity in the interviewer’s eyes when you told him you were an orphan, homeless, and overqualified (you have experience in washing Scarabian dishes). Manipulating situations through pity isn't beneath you. Frankly, you're surprised it keeps working. Truly, do you look that pitiful?

♡ You did get the job at Crisp n’ dips as well, but . . . you turned it down, for very obvious reasons.

♡ Anyhow, no need to dwell on that. What matters more is that you have your first, official job, and you can’t risk getting fired because the busboy (a certain hyena) can’t stop plotting with you. You don’t even want to know why the laws of this universe deemed you two a fit, working pair, and by what sheer misfortune you two work at the same diner: as if having him share a class with you wasn't enough. It reminds you of a certain assertion, the devil couldn't reach you, so he sent Ruggie Bucchi to do the job. ​​​​​​He looks a little goofy clad in work attire, but he’s still that same kid who tries to cop a look at your answers.

“Bucchi—”

“Just slip into Azul's office, look through his contracts, find the one with Vil's name on it, and get out before anybody notices—”

“Bucchi.”

“Easy enough—”

“Bucchi!” 

Snapping out of hysteria, he looks at you, saucer-eyed, ears slapping the side of his head in alarm. Heaving a sigh of great disdain, you turn to him, hoping he can see the look on your face past the mound of fur concealing it. “Go back inside, and clean the tables— whatever is it that you do, please.” 

♡ Oh! He seems amused. You want to punch him. It’s already hot in the mascot costume you’re wearing. Yes— that’s right. They picked you to be a mascot, wallowing in scorching perspiration and struggling to support yourself with spasmodic breaths. Unfortunately, your costume's permanent stitched-on smile sends the opposite message—  it only seems to buttress the smirk he throws your way, and by God, you want to reach in and stuff him in the suit. It’s not like you can take it off, too. You’d done that after a particularly stifling endeavor, and had someone recognize you by the name Magicam Hunchback alone. 

♡ Hmm . . . you wonder if Vil ever took that post down. Obviously not, judging from the speed of verbal recognition thrown your way. Perhaps it was because of your ill-fated nerves you hadn’t asked him to— you can’t help it, can you? Not when the lilac of his pupils drink you in and have you standing on the cusps of edged needles. He’s beautiful, above you, far more competent than you’ll ever be. It’s only natural he deems your futile requests a hassle to deal with... so if people were still theorizing about you being a soft launch and your tutor being involved with you in a relationship, why wouldn’t he take it down? It’s like he wants you to suffer just because you don’t knuckle under his demands. 

♡ People talking about you, it doesn’t get out of your head, never does. They definitely make him laugh. Oh, great, thank you. How did bro pull Vil? You never wanted to. They must have a GREAT personality. You’d argue with that, but let it go— after all, if there’s one thing you’ve learned from arguing and making amends with someone who compares you to an uncooked potato: is that it’s fruitless. 

♡  . . . Ah,  that  reminds  you!  Speaking of doom, it  reminds you of the man responsible for half your mounting problems. You need to remember to tune in for today’s study session. He’s made it clear he won’t take your escapades lightly anymore.. and with Rook always carrying a thrashing, less composed version of you over his shoulder, you’d rather not risk the humiliation. 

“..Seriously?”

“Huh?”

“Yer eyebags got eyebags.”

Ruggie's voice brings you out of your self-induced conspiracy. Peeling your lids open, you turn to look at the hyena. Through the spotty lens of your mask, you can only see half of his face, but you very well know it’s steeped in curiosity. Especially when he looks at the slip in your hand— or..paw.

“Is that a doctor's prescription? You catch a disease?”

“No, it’s Vil’s handwriting.”

There’s silence 

Raising his hands in surrender, he yields,  with  a low whistle following the interval. “Y'know what? My bad. Would've rather heard it was terminal.”

“Tell me about it.” A press of your brows has your lips curving down. No matter how you shape it, your mind keeps sinking to the dilemma at hand. Why did Vil want you in his club? “I doubt Vil would let me go unscathed if he caught me saying this, but it really is tiring having to deal with him.”

Ruggie, no matter how little credit you give him (a pittance, really) catches on to your sombre tone. It’s only natural he does. You can’t find it within yourself to fake your emotions, or put up a façade when every two seconds there’s a little kid giving you a gummy smile and planting themselves beside you for a picture. Rocking on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets, he treads very, very carefully. You get the gist he knows what’s up, that this is the most fun he’s had all year round. 

“...Y'know.” He avoids eye contact, lest you send another invisible scowl his way. “Usually when rich people start offering ya opportunities...”

There’s a moment’s pause before he deigns you a glance. A chameleon-like ability where the hues of his irises shift from to blue to gray. 

“They’re investin’.”

You thump your head against a wall and startle a couple of children. 

“Think about it! Nobody spends this much effort on somebody unless they're plannin’ on getting something back.”  He insists, waving his hands in your face as if to stop you before you actually bash your head in the wall and die. He’d lose his job if you did.  “Ya really think world-wide supermodel, hotshot Vil Schoenheit would deign a simpleton like you a glance?" He tilts his head. “People like you n’ me don’t get that luxury, and you still don’t get it through your head, do ya? You really are a goody-goody.”

♡ There’s no reason for Ruggie to do this. Really? Subtly coerce you into drowning yourself beneath waters and digging your own grave? The Ruggie Bucchi you know wouldn’t dare risk that, and you’re sure, on the assumption of yours that the Savana overblot has passed, that he’d know this better than ever. 

♡ Unless . .

he’s intentionally trying to get you into trouble?

You sneak a glance at him. No matter how much of a layabout he may seem, he excels at his job, leaving tables spick and span and finishing it off with a swift assist to the waiters. When he talks, occupied, those twin canines protrude. You mustn’t forget why you want to stay away from them. They don’t keep your safety in their minds.

Twisted Hearts is a game about villains. 

♡ Right! You don’t know Bucchi, really, you don’t. You know about the territorial hyena from the cringe-fest that is Twisted Hearts, but him in reality, you don’t. Does he know about Yuu and you? You wouldn’t put it past him. You don’t even know if Yuu and him are acquainted, if he’s head over heels just like the others, if he would really go that far as to intentionally lead you astray. He can smell you, can’t he? He is a beastman. Would he? One look at his smirk tells you the truth clear and fair. Who knows how to lurk in the shadows and contort their movements from afar the best, other than you, of course?​​​​

♡ You may have let Kalim get to you, you may have dampened Jamil’s suspicion, but that doesn’t make them your friends. They are not your friends. If they find out Yuu’s inner workings, they’ll make your life miserable, would they not? Because that’s what they are. 

♡ Characters bound to destroy the world for their one and only. And in no universe, no matter how much Yuu deems it true, are you anyone’s muse. 

“Mummy, look!” A finger juts out in your direction. “A rabbit!”

This is humiliating. 

♡ Heaving another sigh of despondence, you try to peer at the crowd. Taking up all the seats are customers immersed in idle chitter-chatter and fussy children. In a way, it looks no different from your world,if you ignore the obvious dissimilarities in their comportment and physical characteristics. One customer has ears bigger than their head — what type of beastman is that? One looks like a run-of-the-mill average Joe. One has teal hair, striped with black, and the other . . 

♡ Wait, what?

♡ . . Teal hair? You blink a few times to enhance what you’re seeing. You’re staring at the back of a person’s head. Into a haircut that’s all too familiar. Is that . . Jade? 

♡ Yeah! There’s Yuu. Sitting opposite him. They’ve managed to find your job location, or not, perhaps they’re both here on an excursion. A very one-sided excursion where the latter is trying to ignore the eel’s prodding and probing, any sane eye can see Jade is annoying them, and he just seems so lively. In a way, a manner he never took up when he was with you, a manner which differs so far from his formality. He seems full of energy here, so entranced — you suppose you aren’t capable of overpowering Yuu in this regard. It seems as if their charm is irresistible. 

♡ But then they get up. And you have this unbearable urge to get the eel alone and atleast share a word or two with him.  Yuu pays, clearly, and they’re leaving, another dot in the mass of a thousand. Surely, this isn’t what he’s been doing all this time? Frolicking around with Yuu? Your tormentor? How original.

Before you know it, a rabbit paw catches his sleeve. It's.. well, a bit worn out. Not something you’d expect Jade to wear, but his name comes out nonetheless.

“.. Jade?”

When he turns—

you realize that is not Jade.

♡ Floyd Leech?! 

♡ How doomed are you?! How did you even let it slip past you that Jade has his other half? You’re extremely lucky you’re still clad in your little rabbit costume, because you don't think you can ever stand the notion of him  copping a look at your face and recognizing you on campus. You go rigid entirely, words on the precipice of your tongue and perishing right after as his eyes, half-lidded and bored, languidly rove over your probably ridiculous button eyes. Extricating your hand just as it latched on, you stand in place. 

♡ . . . You also make sure to give him a little wave. Just in case he takes your silence into suspicious account.

“Huh?” The nasally voice is accompanied with the slow stretch of a pointy smile. “And who’re you—”

“Floyd!”

♡Oh, shoot! You totally forgot today was the day of the most dreaded examination: midterms. 

♡ Whatever attention he had on you gets wiped off in a millisecond, and he slinks back towards Yuu almost obediently. You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Opps are everywhere.

♡ And that’s not an atypical thing, really. You’ve never focused on those, that’s how you get your grades to amount to a forgettable pittance, but today is especially dreadful because in the midst of ‘fixing up' your bedhead, Vil had spent the better part of twenty minutes reminding you he expected nothing short of excellence. You can understand his expectations, after all, he'd spent months drilling the material into your skull, whether you welcomed it or not.So with a smile that stretched a little too tightly over your lips, you assured him you would. And you’re sure if this world were any more unbelievable, you’d have a big, fat paper slapped on your back with the words liar.

♡ Specifically because you’re stuck on the first question. You kept skimming through the sheet trying to find a question you’d at least know about, before realizing you’d reached the end of the paper — and you can just imagine that scowl on his face. You can remember him droning on about this same problem, but your memory’s waterlogged, and no amount of scourging can pluck that itch free. .  What an exemplary upperclassman you are!

 ♡ It’s also not just because of Vil, it’s also because this is the start of book three, and if your notion goes according to plan, then Ace, Deuce, and Grim will all grow little sea mementos on their head—with Yuu left to save their friends from their own stupidity. It’s quite laughable, really. That part keeps distracting you. 

“A bold answer.”

♡ Professor Trein has made ten rounds to your table, and has stood above you for the better half of  it as you both stare at a blank page. Whenever you write out the answer, it elicits a disapproving hum, and you’re forced to wipe it out. In the end, you just make do with a solid guess, and turn your paper in, chewing down your uncertainty and following the tide of students as they make their exit. 

♡ The rest of the day resumes.

♡ After a tiring study session with Vil, you attempt to trudge back to your dorm. Your mind’s hazy, misty, and through the dense, foggy plumage shrouding Night Raven, you struggle to keep up. It doesn’t help your brain is, much to your resistance, actively trying to memorize thirteen pages of alchemy at the same time, so when you see more than three figures up ahead — or atleast the shape of them — you uncharacteristically pay them no heed. Big mistake.

♡ Oh, shit! Your suspicions that someone had noticed Yuu's sudden interest in you are confirmed sooner than expected. Namely, when a handful of Savanaclaw students corner you on Main Street and decide a confrontation is a perfectly respectable substitute for magic. You’re no stranger to conflict, but you’re not a connoisseur of handling them too, per se — so imagine your surprise when you’re boxed in by the most ripped beastmen known to man.  They give Savanaclaw its name, it seems, and promptly remind you to never engage with the dorm again. Because . . . it doesn’t make any sense. You haven’t done anything wrong, what reason do they even have to resort to violence? 

♡ Unless . .  someone called them in? Ruggie doesn’t strike you the type to do that, neither does Leona (or does he? He was never your favorite) so perhaps you’re just haplessly grasping at straws and hoping your little theories land. Either way, the group doesn’t give you any room to argue. Grabbing your collar, reeling you in by the shoulders, whatnot. The typical bunch of Savanaclaw knuckleheads, really, so that accomplishes one more goal of yours: physical pain.  You don’t know which part of your body hurts, it's everywhere. 

“We’ve heard of ya” One of them snickers. It’s a hideous sound, you think, one that makes you stare past them amid the aridity of your throat. 

“.. You have?”

“You deaf or somethin’? That’s what he just said.”

♡ Quick! Think of something! Damn you, Vil. If he hadn’t plagued your mind with textbook material, perhaps you’d conjure one of the typical tricks you have up your sleeve. It then occurs to you, you don’t even have any experience in the fighting department. How are you even supposed to defend yourself? You watch as they quite literally empty the contents of your bag, bric-a-brac and stationery descending on the ground in cacophonous waves. It’s clear no one is around the area this time, all except—

“Hey, can you guys please move aside?”

♡ Deuce Spade! And . . . who’s  that?

Someone’s behind him, but your focus remains on him. “I need to get to Mr. Sam’s shop. You’re blocking the way.”

“Mr.Sam’s shop?” A rowdy beastman chuckles. “Why?”

“.. I need to get some parchment.” Deuce’s eyes narrow, spade crinkling and belying his skepticism beneath. “I’m going to send a letter home.”

♡ Except . . . he seems wary of you. Not just you, all of you. Does he even know you’re the one that’s being wronged here?  There’s someone behind him, someone you’ve never seen before, but something about them rings a bell of recognition within you.

♡ The contours of their face, the way they stand tight-lipped, they have a good couple of inches over Deuce — their hair is quite messy, jutting out in sleep-mussed strands as if they rolled out of bed, yet giving the impression it’s styled like that on purpose, curling around their face. Their face is steeped in staid indifference, they don’t spare a single glance towards the delinquents, yet amid their unsolicited questions, it treks towards you. 

♡ Who is that? Your heart squeezes in on itself. Your lip’s worn between your teeth as you feel them comb through your concealed stature, languidly traversing each and every part of your figure. It makes you feel uncomfortable, it makes your privacy feel impinged upon and paraded for their perusal. . .it feels as if the mere sight of you is being drunk in.  Who is that? They look familiar, overly familiar, too familiar. 

♡ That’s Yuu?

Your eyes are nailed open, pinned wide by incredulity. You don’t know why, but your heart bursts in little staccatos. There’s a little, stray strand at the side of their head, and dare you say, it’s styled exactly like the Leech twins. 

♡ No way. No way! They actually did it. They changed themselves because you poured your heart out at some blasted library! But . . what about their height? Even their face seems different. Makeup? Heels? Now they’re accompanying Deuce, staring at you, because no matter how much you could’ve told them you like someone who couldn’t give a single care in the world about you, they can’t help themselves. It’s like they need to stare at you.  Just what the hell is wrong with them? Do they really think you’ll topple over by their feet just because they did a little something new with their face or hair?

“Well, look what the prefect dragged in.” The Savanaclaw knucklehead jeers. “Deuce? Ain’t you supposed to be runnin’ your ass off at the track club and sucking up to your professors? Piss off, and take your little wuss with ya.”

Deuce looks on the cusp of letting his face devolve into pure fury. You can’t help but think it’s not that serious, but upon watching the tremor of his lips, you reconsider. The prefect and he have been pals since the beginning, and they must’ve fought tooth and nail beside each other. It’s only natural they have that kind of relationship, palpable in the way he pushes them behind him. Oh, wow. Shielding them with his body? Ground-breaking.

“Yuu, get behind me.. I’m only asking you this once, alright?” His brows press as he takes his attention to the group. You can’t help but feel as if he doesn’t remember you.  “Step aside. We’re not here to pick a fight, so please move out of the way.”

Yuu obliges, shuffling, though you’d argue that’s because they’re too busy staring at you, gauging your face for a reaction. A reaction on the change. A reaction on anything.

The Savanaclaw bastard mulls it over. “Hm.” Then he cranes his neck head-on. “Nah. Can’t say the same for us.”

♡ That’s all it takes for a punch.

♡ The sound is loud on skin. You don’t even know who threw it, but somewhere amid the jabs, punches are flying. Punches are flying in every wayward direction. Punches are flying . . . at you? The last thing you see is a Spade, and then your entire vision gets tilted, harshly. You’re spinning, why are you spinning?

♡ You realize a second too late when the air is knocked out of you. Did you just get punched by Deuce Spade?! 

♡ A solid right hook to your rib and you fall to the ground in blinding pain, it’s like he straight up tore something out of you. A half-choked scream evades and amid the tussling bodies, you see Yuu staring at you. They make no move to rush to you— but the pain is unbearable, and you clench the space over your ribs. Pain shoots up in your cheek when someone tumbles over you, dust kicks up everywhere. 

It's clear everyone’s getting their ass handed to them.

You lay sprawled on the ground alongside some ugly Savanaclaw bastard. Grunts follow. Glaring at him, you seethe. “This is all your fault.”

“... Sorry, man.”

♡ You wake up in the infirmary. 

And with that, stars burst in your vision.

♡   It takes you a while to come to.

♡ Your vision is, at first, incredibly spotty, and for the dots to ebb away, requires you to keep on blinking. Blinking requires strain, and strain requires more pain which you don’t deign to verbalize.  There’s no question that you were brought here by someone, a student, even. No lights have been turned on, you’re left in the quiet chalice of moonlight streaming in from windows and the growing pain on the plush of your cheek -- it’s past curfew, and no one is in the office, not even the Savanaclaw mutts. Shuffling, you realize a blanket’s draped over your shoulders, and a poorly-attached.. bandage on your skin which flutters away. 

♡ . . What a bummer! You  got  your  ribcage  and cheek beat in? You should’ve known to jump out of the way, especially since you know more about Deuce than anyone in the room! You must’ve really underestimated his relationship with Yuu. Because Book Three is coming around, it should be even stronger than before, considering they’ve dealt with two overblots. Strangely though, Yuu in Twisted Hearts was never quiet when he’d been forced to take to his fists. In fact — the dialogue options all centred around de-escalating the situation. 

♡ . . Seems like you really messed with their head after the library incident. Thought it should offer you some comfort, it has icy shards of reluctance roving over your spine. If the time might come where you’ll be coerced into interacting with Adeuce again.. then you’d have to book it immediately. Yuu’s made it clear they’ll stop at nothing, especially since they’ve changed their appearance. 

“You’re awake.”

♡ .. 

♡ ..What? 

♡ ​​​​​Ack! What the heck?!

♡ You flinch, blinking once more, and look around the room for the source of the voice. 

♡ There's an apparition at the foot of the bed. No, there’s a person standing there, a person you’ve never met before, you can tell. The pitch of their voice,  the dialogue.. it’s all unfamiliar and..

It’s Yuu. 

♡ The room glistens once.

Or.. it looks like Yuu. 

It looks like Yuu, but with the way they’re dressed and carrying themselves, they look like J̸A̸D̸E̸. They don’t look like themselves, and how long had they been standing there, watching you mull everything over on your tongue? Back at Main Street, you’d skimmed over their new looks, but now, having given the luxury of time, you’re taking it all in and realize that they’re trying to impersonate him. The man, who you, in the heat of the moment, had called best friend. ​​​​​​

Your heart quickens. How did you not notice it before?​​​​​​

Beams of silvered incandescence fall in stripes upon their face, and you realize their eyes have been morphed into a different shape, their lips a different colour, their height now towering over you...  What? How’s that even possible? How come no one noticed it at Main Street? Had they always looked like that? No— that’s not right. There is something completely wrong and yet has eluded everyone. Even the Savanaclaw brutes recognized them as the prefect, where you, someone who’s been flanked by said prefect, erred in the recognition at first. 

“.. Yuu?” 

J̸A̸D̸E̸, they look like. J̸A̸D̸E̸, the manner they carry themselves. They drink in the battered and bruised visage you’re clad in, and with that ̷J̷̷A̷̷D̷̷E̷’̷S̷ ̷G̷̷R̷̷I̷̷N̷  playing on the softer curve of their lips, their J̸A̸D̸E̸’S̸ H̸E̸A̸D̸ lolls towards you. Y꙰U꙰U꙰     J꙰A꙰D꙰E꙰   Y꙰UJ꙰J꙰A꙰D꙰E꙰

“Forgive me.” Upon receiving a pointed brow from you, h҉e҉  chuckles. “I was under the impression that reunions between companions of a certain familiarity were typically accompanied by some gesture of goodwill. A hug, if I recall correctly.”

They’re speaking like him. A roulette of personalities before it clicks into one concrete thing. You’re not even looking at their face anymore, your hands are wound around the softer bedsheet and your lips are restless welts between your teeth. What do you even do in this situation? Yuu, somehow, against all odds, has boxed you in an infirmary. It terrifies you, but, audaciously, you chew down the quiver of your face and school it into a calmer one. 

“Yuu.” 

You can’t see their eyes, but you know they widen around your utterance of their name. Quickly, before you can even process it, they cover the distance between you too. It has you jerking back against the wall, biting back a hiss at the strong contract. —They’re in front of you. They’re looking at you. What have you even done to deserve this?

“Yes?” Your eyes hesitantly climb upward. 

“.. Can you leave?”

They look like you’ve just said something befuddling. Quirking a brow and adorned in that same expression as you, they question. “.. Why? You’re hurt, aren’t you? It’d be unwise of me to leave you to your own devices.” Their eyes glister. They’re yellow now. A color oh-so familiar. “Oh, speaking of you being hurt, I apologize on behalf of Deuce. He really..”

Your hands. Their hands. They meld them together, fingers slotted against each other. Yours are warm, but theirs are denuded of any temperature, even as they press into yours like an ill-fitting locket. There’s a pit amassing in your stomach, gnawing at you, a massive blackhole of dread. It's everywhere, coagulating in the confines of your throat, even your ears and rigid body. You won't look them in the eyes, even as they give your hands a squeeze of confirmation, as if to ascertain you’re actually there. 

“.. He really angered me, you see.” Nails delve into the plush of your skin, before releasing it in a portrait of half-moons. “Oh, but enough of him. May I talk to you?”

—As if you’re real. 

Are you real? You can still hear their voice in the back of your mind. 

♡ No, no, no. You want to scream at them, but you’re afraid it’ll only escalate the situation. 

“.. Okay.” You tread carefully. “We’ll talk. We'll talk tomorrow, okay? I’ll talk to you all you want—” 

“—Just leave. I’m hurt.”

♡ It’s like they can't bear the thought of not listening to you. 

“Spud!”

♡ Nodding, you watch them exit the room, the door closing. And just like that, you hide beneath the covers, not wanting to lament on what the fuck just happened! Squeezing your eyes shut, you don’t breathe until you're certain their footsteps have diminished into nothingness. 

You jerk awake. 

♡ Dampness amasses upon your waterline before slivers of it stream down and onto your open palm. You’re sat upright, and the face of your tutor, Vil Schoenheit, should not offer you so much relief, but the bottled up chrysalis of your heart, the thumping staccatos of your pulse, all join to let out the happiest sigh you’ve ever breathed. You’re in the nurse’s office, you have not moved places, but Yuu is not here anymore. They’ve left. 

“Vil!” 

♡ You chew the word back down when you see the surprise on his face.

♡ You don’t know if it is because you’ve never once willingly uttered his name so.. joyfully, or because he’s wondering why, on the name of the Sevens, are you here. Judging from the way he’s in his Dorm Uniform, you must have taken him out of Pomefiore for this occasion, but beneath the gloam, he really does look like a cherub, an angel, more so because his face is tenfold embellished, softened and glamorous — not a day goes by where he doesn’t look gorgeous. Your  guardian  angel,  you’d describe him as, if you were a completely different breed of yourself, and if the circumstances were different, and if..well, you get the gist.

“..”

For the briefest of moments, more surprise fractures his impeccable composure. It vanishes just as quickly.

"Well." He smooths a nonexistent crease from the sleeve of his uniform.His lilac eyes sweep over your face with unsettling precision.  "That is certainly the most enthusiastic greeting I've ever received from you....Should I assume you've suffered another concussion?"

You hastily scrub at your face and wince.  The valleys of your palm glisten, giving you away.  “..No.”

"You've been crying." At your prolonged silence, he shakes his head.  “You have no need to verify it, I have eyes."

He doesn’t prod for more. Instead, he crosses the room with measured steps until he stands beside the infirmary bed, crossing his arms. 

"The physician informed me you were rendered unconscious after an altercation. Really? I leave you unattended for one afternoon and somehow you manage to involve yourself in physical violence."

“...It wasn't on purpose.”

“I would certainly hope not.” His thumb lightly catches your chin before you can recoil. He angles your face toward the light. “...Though judging by the state of your cheek, I can see bruising, and here I was under the impression you merely enjoyed collecting eye bags."

Letting you extricate yourself from his nitid hold, he eyes you, brows knitting close at your reluctance. “Did the nightmare concern your altercation?”

.. Was it a nightmare?

“..No.”

“Someone else, then.”

“...Yeah.”

He studies you long enough that you begin wondering if there's something written across your forehead.

“Who?”

“I dunno.”

He turns away, sighing. 

“I've discovered that people disclose the truth more readily when they cease believing they're being interrogated.” He glances back over one shoulder. “So I will ask you again another day.”

“Did you call me spud to wake me up?”

The question is airy, quick but elicits a soft sigh from him, stopping him in his tracks. When he whirls around, heels clacking against the tiles, there's a curvature to his lips, but not of pride.  As if almost conveying he’s got you  figured out, that you aren’t as elusive as you’d deem yourself. The sort of expression worn by someone who's finally finished assembling the last piece of a puzzle.

“So that is what's troubling you.” You stiffen, and he hums, folding his arms. “I suppose I can indulge your curiosity. After all, it would have been rather inconvenient to recommend you for Film Research while referring to you as 'that spud from Scarabia.”

Your stomach drops.

“Naturally, I sought out your student record.”

♡ Horror dawns upon you. It's then you realize of course there should be a school record of the person's body you’ve been transmigrated into. 

“Only to discover...” His smile thins. “...that you seemingly don't have one.”

♡ . .   

“Quite an impressive feat, really. Every student admitted to Night Raven College leaves behind paperwork. Enrollment records. Academic reports. Disciplinary files, in some unfortunate cases.” His gaze settles on you. “You, however, appeared to have vanished from the school's archives altogether. It was terribly inefficient.”

He brushes an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve.

“Fortunately, Housewarden Al-Asim proved considerably more cooperative. I simply requested whatever documentation Scarabia had on you.” His eyes soften into something almost miserable. “..As you can imagine, my efforts did not bear fruit.”

♡ You don’t answer.  Kalim knows your name. That day, at the infirmary, you'd given him it willingly, but it surprises you that he didn’t give it away. Did he even remember it? He has more than thirty siblings and he knows all of them by name, allegedly. It should be habit by now.. (Still, amid the sheer terror that Vil just implied he’s going to take you out of Mountain Lovers and place you into Film Research instead, you feel warmth in your heart). 

Presently, you school your expression, letting your gaze trek upward into the purple inferno that’s Vil. So, Ruggie wasn’t lying when he said Vil had been to Octavinelle. He must’ve struck a deal with Azul, Azul must’ve gotten Jade to comply, and Jade must’ve agreed.  “I don’t want to join your club, Vil. I respect you as my tutor—”

“Do you? That’s certainly shocking.”

“But I can’t accept this.”

"No,"  You don’t know what you were expecting, but the degree of his calm, it infuriates you no more than it riddles  you with confusion   “You won't accept it. There's a difference, and a rather important one.”

He covers the distance between you and purple inundates your vision, the purple of his dress, plaguing the ground. Though you’re loathe to admit it, his composure is far more formidable than outright anger, and subconsciously, you sink deeper into the blanket fortress you’ve built around yourself. Cool antiseptic against the interior of your skin, it grounds you until your eyes are inevitably forced to dwell into the reign of his eyes. 

"Acceptance, if you’d give it some thought, would mean consideration followed by a conclusion. You, however, as I’ve said before, have made a habit of refusing opportunities before you've even afforded them a glance.”

“Because they're opportunities I don't want.” You curl, coil, and do everything to shield your face from his. Detestable, you can tell it irks him so, so much. “I don’t want them. I don’t want to be put into the spotlight, I don’t want to be seen, I don’t want any of this!”

It shames you. Puts you to shame more and more and more. Sentences you to a perpetual embarrassment, because here you are reduced to tearful, loud hysteria, and Vil has not once raised his voice at you. He peers at you the same, a petulant toddler in his eyes. Why? Why can he never see you as something more than that?

“Are they?”

“—Yes!”

“Or are they merely opportunities that require you to become something more?” A long nail scrapes the cloth and suddenly, the blanket is taken away from you. You gasp involuntarily,  crisp air meets the bare of your skin and your mouth falls shut, given the luxury of seeing his face clearly. You don’t mull it over too long for his liking, and he scowls.  Deep and unforgiving. “Tell me, have you once attended Film Research?”

“No.”

“Have you spoken to any of its members?”

“..No.”

“Then by what merit have you deemed it unsuitable?”

“...Because...”

It is a strange, trance-like, curse-like bubble you’re in. Words seep from your mouth and into the fracture of the air much too fast, for a moment you’re inclined to believe he’s used his signature spell on you. Has he? Can he even do that? You hate him.

“...Because Mountain Lovers leaves me alone. I want peace. I don’t want people looking at me.”

Vil lets out a slow, almost imperceptible breath.

“There it is. You've convinced yourself you don't deserve them to. You are under the absurd impression that remaining invisible somehow absolves you of responsibility." His tone remains maddeningly even. "If no one knows your name, they cannot burden you. If no one notices your work, they cannot expect more of you. If no one grows attached, they cannot disappoint you." He tilts his head. “...It's a remarkably comfortable philosophy.”

His eyes narrow just slightly.

“It is also cowardice, and if there is anything I despise more than sloth, it is precisely—”

Lilac. 

“Cowardice.”

Even through the crescendo of his stare, you feel as though you can’t let him leave just yet. 

“Wait, Vil!”  He stops, and you lower your head in shame.

♡ You are a coward!

“.. Can you at least walk me back? To Scarabia?”

♡ A smarting, throbbing pain pulses throughout your body, you hiss and seethe and sputter into Scarabia’s lounge, where the night sky, buttressed by noctilucent stars on liquefied ink, bubbles and takes you into its breezy arms. You arrive quite late, at a time where everyone has surely returned to their rooms and tuned in for the night, but this is not your first rodeo and definitely not your first time breaking curfew. You’re more so grappling with the fact that Deuce Spade, the seemingly, oh-so loyal companion, has thrown a solid right hook to your rib and now you’re most likely crippled. . .  and that Vil has, without mercy, sentenced you to a lifetime of Film Research.

♡ You hiss again. You’d very well seen dialogues regarding how others would describe his strength as unexpected, but you didn’t really expect you to be the example.

♡ You'd been so convinced the stolen items had something to do with Jade, or Y҉I҉U҉U҉—or perhaps the usual mound of unrequited love. But now, you’re re-considering where you really stand. Had it been done out of malice? The characters have shown they've no qualm with hurting you, and clearly, this implies they’d stoop to more . .  . . violent methods, if needed.  Crisp air only burns the welts on your skin, you’re glad no one’s here to see you reduced to such a state. 

♡ Except the viper! Isn’t that just so peachy?

♡ He knuckles at his lids three times before letting his face pucker into a ball of confusion and drawn brows. Donning his sleepwear, his hair meanders loose, and his skin’s rid of gold, the same as you’d seen on him the night before. Stumbling, toppling over your own tongue in a drawl, you don’t realize the burn of air is whisked away with the sensation of someone tugging at your uniform and setting you down on the ottoman.

“Do I even bother?” He questions. Your head is low, dipped. A swab of cotton pounces at your face, a pitter-patter following the motion of his fingers.  Do I even bother asking you what happened, because you and I both know you never speak the truth? And how did you even get Schoenheit to walk you to Scarabia? With a finger pressed along your ribs, he prods. “Tell me when.”

♡ Gah! Everything is happening so fast, you can’t even process it. How can you when the one guy who’s so steeped in loathing is staring back at you, after you’ve just had a mental acceptance regarding their partiality to violence?

“When.”

“I haven’t even touched the bruise yet.”

Luckily for him, you’re pretty dazed after the encounter. 

“Wheehee... My bad.” A puddle of emotions twist your face into a frown as you lament. “Do you know they didn’t even use spells? It was a bare-knuckled fight!”

“Shh. Follow my finger.”

“You’re holding up two.”

“Only one.” Lolling his head skyward, his lips press down into a thin line of.. irritation. Even when you’re crumpled, he eyes you warily. There is always something in those eyes of his, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have taken it lightly. But you don’t, because the way he peers down at you, it’s almost literal. You beneath him, the natural order.   “..  I thought you avoided attention, so why provoke Savanaclaw?”

You have a strong aversion to small talk, especially when Jamil is on the receiving end. “Really generous to assume they need a reason for beating me up.”

“Hm. I suppose that’s true,” Without any need to continue conversation, he still keeps on probing for more. It’s quite laughable, isn’t it? He never struck you as the type to willingly engage in chatter with you, even now, his face is strained. How fun, knowing you’ve inconvenienced him.  “Still, I would’ve thought you the type to  at least defend yourself.”

You perch your cheek on your hand. “You thought wrong.”

“Clearly,” Pausing against your temple, the cotton is cool, even while littered with grime. “Why?”

“Why you thought wrong? Well, clearly, it’s a skill iss—”

“Why? You've had opportunities. If people insist on handing you those, why keep on refusing them? Even your own Housewarden likes you.”

You grimace. “I wouldn't phrase it like that.”

“You've earned Leech's attention.”

“I'd rather give it back.”

“Vil Schoenheit has practically dragged you into his orbit. He accompanied you just now to your dorm, didn’t he?”

Now, there’s an ugly bruise on your face and it’s not one he can touch and see, he can feel. Your lips pull into an elegiac little frown, and your eyes glaze over in mourning.

“I'd also, definitely rather give that back.”

His fingers still.

“...Why? Most students spend years trying to be noticed, and you spend every waking moment making sure no one remembers you.”

♡ Not this conversation! Looks like you’re at a bit of a standstill, but that entertains the thought: looks who’s talking. Pot, meet kettle, isn’t that what he does, in a sense, in a far more different sense? You don’t know how to reply to that, because Jamil is very clearly, very not  passively, explaining the obvious. Even the way he looks at you now is complicated, denuded of emotion that can be gauged. You merely purse your lips in lieu of a response, and avoid his gaze, like you’ve always done. 

“Can we please talk about something else?”

There’s a pressure on your palm. An accidental, harsh pull, and with a sigh, he tells you; “I can never understand you. Oh, well, it’s done.”

You blearily blink up at him. “It’s done?”

“The bandaging.”

He was bandaging you up this entire time? Oh, so that’s why he was so atypically immersed in your conversation.

Leaning back and scourging the contents of his work, which in actuality is just a linen strip of white shrouding your palms and the bare of your arm, he hums. It’s a non-committal, little thing that’s whisked away beneath the empyrean domain, blues and purplish-black lairs of twilight, cast back into the likeness of his eyes. He’s staring at you again. Waiting for, well, something. Something you’re clearly not willing to give. 

“Thank you.” Clearing your throat, its dryness is gone. In the heat of Scarabia, only you feel its cold fangs nip at your skin. When you retract your gaze, you realize, shit. Had you been looking at him? “.. Aren’t you going to leave?”

He raises a brow. 

“It may have slipped your mind that I’m your Vice Housewarden.” His arms are now folded. “In any case, you should be the one heading to bed.”

♡ Say less. You really don’t want this unsolicited thing to escalate, so you verbalize your agreement with a hum, and attempt to leave him be. The keyword here is attempt— and the trigger word here is Yuu. 

“After all, I imagine Yuu must be waiting for you tomorrow.”

A chill goes up your spine.

♡ You fall back down. Why? Because a tremor shot up your legs and now you’re that same crumpled mess you were in the library. 

♡ Ugh! Great! Another Yuu-thing to worry about. You really wish they stopped getting on your case. The incident at the infirmary still hasn’t left your mind.. Y꙰U꙰U꙰’S꙰ face staring you down. Why’s Jamil looking at you like that? With a shadow cast over his usually staid face? It unsettles you no more than it terrifies you, how have you messed up this bad? Quick, think of something! It’s time you set the record straight once and for all.

“You don’t have to worry,” hands morphed into fists in your lap, you think he feels you avoiding his gaze. “I know.. your— ahem, affections lie with Yuu. I would never personally get in your way, Vice Housewarden.” Heaving a shuddering breath, you stand up. “I’ve too much respect for you in that regard.”

♡ Uh. . why’s he looking at you like that? Brows raised, lips on the verge of shooting up into an amused smirk. 

“Hm? Affections? Where did that come from? I don’t recall bringing that up.”

♡ .. . . For your next trick you’ll need a gun and a shovel to dig your grave. Really? 

“—It's obvious.” You amend. “The way you look at them.”

“When did you see me looking at them?”

Uhh..  “When didn’t I see you looking at them?”

“There’s  no point in puerile assumptions, really.” There it is again. That clipped, clear tone. Lids rolling over charcoal finality, he folds his arms again, and once more, his hair curtains his face in a blanket of shadows. “I’m a boring guy to be around. One who doesn’t know his way around the latest trends or media. What could Yuu possibly gain from sparing me time? They’re an odd one, no more than you.”

♡ Jack of all trades, master of none! 

♡ He’s trying to dissuade you from it, the reality of what he feels, and if you were any less of a connoisseur at combing through facial expressions (which really is just obtained foresight from Twisted Hearts), you’d have believed him. But you don’t, not even for a second — in a  sense, you believe he thinks he’s gotten you off his trail, that he’s outsmarted you.  You don’t want to pester him for more, try to steer his belief, or attempt to relate to him. Truth is, you always see that smile of his whenever the prefect is mentioned, that tug on his hood, and the glint in his eyes. He lives up to his name. A viper, camouflaged in plain sight. 

♡ He must mistake you for a dumb one, or maybe he doesn’t. You think he doesn’t, not at all — perhaps he’s waiting for you to make that one mistake and sink in the hole you’ve been digging for yourself. 

”Come on,” Your voice nags his attention. “..Boring guy? You've been trying really hard not to laugh all this time— especially when you were patching me up.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his head lists gently towards the side. 

“I looked awful, I know. You can admit it.”  Pitter-patter, there goes your footfall, away from Jamil as you angle your body towards the one place you can find rest. You can’t see his face, but you don’t think of anything else other than his signature composure. That’s bad. “It’s way better to tell me you think I’m miserable up-front than going behind my back and keeping it to yourself.”

That’s bad. It’s bad. Jamil is willingly making conversation with you. This is bad. You need to set him towards a different path.

♡ Reaching your room, you catch someone peeking at you through a half-open crack in the door, Scarabia Student B! Nosy, curious, wondering why you and his Vice Housewarden were in that lounge. Without greeting him, you slam your door shut.

♡ Unfortunately, rest does not easy. 

♡ Finally! The end of a tiring day. 

♡ In the murkiness of your room, lit only by the pearly eye outside, you comb through the space. It’s barren, of course — your shelves, though, are lined with . . . accessories. 

♡ One  of  the  most  shiny  things  you  own,  is  of  course,  a  bracelet! Gifted  to  you  by none  other  than  Kalim. Your journal is by its side. There’s  also  a little  mushroom  encased  in  glass  you’d  discovered  on  your  bygone  hikes  with  Jade. You’d  never  noticed  that  before. . . it  only  now  reminds  you  just  how  many  of  your  little  trinkets  you’ve  left  back  in  the  Mountain  Lovers  club,  they  must  be  catching  dust  by  now. Should  you  drop  a  visit  tomorrow  to  pick  them  up?    You don’t know how  you’ll handle seeing him. 

♡ Climbing out of bed, you pick it up! There’s a little slip of paper plastered on the pane: Amanita verna (Destroying angels). 

♡ It seems familiar. A swathe of white is all it is, steeped in the colour from head to toe.. You remember it! That’s the same mushroom you’d encountered on your first hike, the same one you told him not to eat. It’s almost strange how he’s kept it all this time — and really, in glass? What if its toxins are airborne? When did he even give this to you?

♡ Wake up! Sometimes you get reminded why Kalim is unfit to be a Housewarden. Under the pretense of something important, he’d woken you up and led you to Scarabia’s kitchen. You’d, at first, thought he just called you for breakfast, but one glance at the time gave the numbers 4 : 50 AM away. Under no circumstances, in any universe, would you be willing to wake up at dawn’s peak, except this one. There are few things in this world worth waking before sunrise for. An emergency. A natural disaster. Perhaps the Second Coming. 

♡ Shuffling back to bed, you pull the covers up to your chin, squeezing your eyes shut. Oh, well, a new day awaits you. 

♡ Turns out, he’s trying to arrange a party to commemorate the end of midterms, but Jamil’s chagrin is hindering his plans. A dorm-wide party to ‘boost everyone's spirits?’ it makes sense why Jamil has vetoed the idea outright.You can’t understand why this party would be a hit, considering that it takes place a day before midterm results would mean everyone is too preoccupied with stress or fatigue to ruminate on it, but oh, well, you’re far past arguing with your Housewarden. If the goal is ensuring everyone fails together, it’ll certainly work. 

♡ You have no desire to help him out, because for one, you’re fatigued beyond measure, going against  Jamil would warrant only doom — and finally, you don't trust him in the kitchen. There’s a reason why Jamil’s restricted his access to fire and anything flammable. (Though, even if it were to occur, can’t he use his unique magic?)

♡  All in all, you’re a bit surprised to see Kalim’s eagerness, so much so he’s completely overlooked what Jamil would think of him. The latter wouldn’t cook, in spite of his demands, so the boy’s brought it upon himself to do the task instead, only, for some reason, he needs your help, not the help of hundreds of other Scarabian students that would befit the skill. This has all the makings of a disaster.

“I wanna throw everybody a surprise party after classes!” He throws his hands up, relenting. The light emanating from his face alone makes yours crimp. “I think it’ll make everyone less nervous before the midterm results are announced. So? What do you think?”

“The truth or a lie?” At the persistence of his smile, you mutter. “I think it'll make everyone fail midterms, Housewarden.”

“Really? Then we’ll just have it after.” He seems surprised. Was he expecting you to agree with him? If he really insists on your companionship, then it’s only natural you come out of your shell and tell him the bare-faced truth. Though the tinge of it makes you feel the tiniest bit woozy. “Everyone in Scarabia’s studying all the time, they deserve something fun, don’t they?”

“.. Yeah.” Air whistles through your teeth as you set your eyes straight on the cutlery. “They do. I think that’s very considerate of you, Housewarden.” And that, in all honesty, is not a lie.

♡ He begins rummaging through cupboards with alarming enthusiasm!  Bowls, plates, three ladles, a whisk. Somehow, a watermelon, and a flour bag half his size. He turns to you and asks you what you both should make, and you relinquish the decision to him. You help him out with whatever he’s making with the watered-down dough — slicing melons into bits and focusing way too much on avoiding the knife’s end, and whenever he asks for something, you put yourself to the task and provide. 

♡ It’s only natural, though, that his need for conversation overwhelms him. 

”Hey,” he smiles at you. “Now that you mention it, you never brought Jade over to Scarabia!”

You never mentioned it, but okay. The question makes you pause.. Jade. The real Jade, not the one you thought you saw. Crimson, fruity rivulets skim over the ridges and valleys of your palm as you pretend to ruminate it over, but you end up conceding the real answer to him regardless.

“I don’t think we’re friends anymore.”

♡ That makes him pause! 

♡ He seems shocked, truly. Eyes saucer-wide and lips parted, but then again, you expected it to be subsumed beneath the weight of his optimism. Even when he has no idea  why Jade’s left you alone, he still makes an effort to alleviate your mood. After all, that’s the impression you left for him to feast on, that you were lonely, on the verge of dying and in dire need of help. For once, the kitchen falls quiet save for the gentle simmer of something forgotten on the stove.

“..Really?”

“Really.”

Kalim blinks once. “..Did you two have a fight?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what happened?”

“ ..Nothing.” Your head lolls over your shoulder. Tongue curling over soundless words, words you’re not even sure why you’re deigning him the brunt of, coalesce. “Nothing needs to have happened, Kalim. Sometimes people just stop talking, and that’s a  part of life. They don’t need to have disagreements.”

He’s frowning at you, you can tell from your periphery, a bona fide frown that’s not at all the moue he wears when Jamil refuses to indulge one of his whims. A genuine one whose likeness is casted back into the nitid curve of your knife, as you twirl it around and around.  "I make it pretty easy."

"How?"

“I avoid them. Hide. Run away. Occasionally pretend not to hear them. Sometimes I literally climb out windows.” A tiny smile tugs at your lips. “I'm kind of difficult to be friends with.”

♡ Kalim doesn't smile back. Instead, he sets the mixing bowl down with a dull clink!

“I don't think that's true! You just listed a bunch of things you do.”

Something warm engulfs your hand. Your hands. His hands. He melds them together, fingers slotted against each other. Yours are warm, but his are even warmer as they press into yours like an ill-fitting locket — but it’s not at all like Yuu’s grip. It's gentler, it’s genuine, and it’s kind. You won't look him in the eyes, even as he gives your hands a squeeze of reassurance. “Not who you are. You're nice. You always help me when I ask. You help clean. You always thank the ghosts after they serve you lunch. You're just scared people won’t like you— and tell you what—”

He’s beaming at you now. “Sometimes Jamil ignores me for days. Sometimes he tells me I'm impossible, but we always end up talking the next day! So you..” A thumb juts out from your interlinked... pinkies? Had he made a subconscious promise?  “Should talk to Jade.”

♡ You stare at him. . Yours and Jamil’s situation is very different, and the dynamic these two share bears no similarity to Jade and yours. If anything, you have no obligation to make amends with the eel, but still, you make do with a shuddering nod. 

“See? You’re smiling!”

♡ The new day is horrendous because you find yourself back at the Mountain Lovers club, against all odds. 

“I’m not.”

♡ Right before sending you off, Kalim gave you a small task. He wanted you to send out the invitation cards to multiple students, seeing as you’d taken on multiple jobs with the same nature. One of the names you instantly recognized, Silver. You agreed, but made your way to your old club, hoping you wouldn’t catch Jade in the process. 

♡ Only now you’re clearly trying to hide from someone, because the eel is right there. 

♡ Honestly, if you’re being honest, you hadn’t expected Jade to be in the Mountain Lovers Club, the most expected thing of him. You’d at least think he has a knack for camouflage, with the way he’s completely eluded your senses these past few days— or months. So imagine the consecutive, twelve heart attacks you get when you catch the prowling figure in the corner, situated where he always is since the day you stumbled into the room.

“Would it be impertinent of me to assume you’re trying to hide from me?”

♡ Ack! It’s been such a while you’ve seen Jade that it almost feels surreal. A husband returning from war, as you’d first put it during your departure in the earlier phase of your.. parasitic relationship, but now you’re not so sure anymore. What does it feel like?

♡  . . . He’s caught you dead in your rights amid your prancing, and even ensconced within your reluctance, you sneak an itsy-bitsy glance at him. Your gaze is confined to his self-same face, one that remains unchanged though you’ve spent so many days apart. His comportment  is exactly as you remember it — suave and placid — and somehow, that's what makes seeing him so strange. Yours has changed, has it not? You’ve been dealing with Yuu, Scarabia, Ruggie, Vil . . 

♡ Ridiculous. Leech is standing five paces away from you. 

♡ What do you even say? You don’t want to probe at him, ask him where he’s been, ask him about Vil. It’s entirely possible he was occupied with the semester, with Mostro Lounge, his hikes, or whatever his slippery mind latched onto. Showing that much eagerness would definitely corrode the image you’ve been trying to build, right? Though, him disappearing right after that cheek memento seems too odd to be a  coincidence, and you know it isn’t, you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, for his own sake.

So, you just heave a sigh, and let your eyes trail to the room. 

“..You've always had a  talent for assumptions.”

“Have I?”

“You've assumed correctly enough times for it to become annoying.”

"How flattering.” He hums, accepting the correction. It irks you. “I’m relieved to see your wit survived my absence. I was riddled with fear, you see.” With a gloved hand on his chest, he sniffles. “How you could possibly survive without my interference.”

♡ Ugh! He expected otherwise. Sure, you had a bit of a tussle with the withdrawals, but you did just fine without him. Sure, you can see him grinning slyly at you, his words but a harmless jab.

“I considered several possibilities.” He keeps on going, eyes transfixed on the arrays of . . truth be told, an entire ecosystem of wildlife. The emanating light casts an azure glow on his face, and you find  veils of lashes covering the glint in his eyes.  “That you would continue avoiding the Mountain Lovers Club indefinitely, or that you had simply forgotten where it was, and I did entertain the notion that one of  Schoenheit’s extracurricular endeavors had finally succeeded in claiming you. Dare I say, you're even starting to resemble him in speech.”

You pale at the implications. “You're hilarious.”

“So I've been told.” That smirk may as well be a cathedral of pointed arcs, ripping past his lips as he places a gloved hand on his chin. 

There’s that usual silence, enveloping you. You try to let your attention fixate on something else to avoid the strain of conversation, somehow it feels foreign to you.

But then he breaks it.

Unfortunately. 

“But of course, horrible as I may be, I couldn’t possibly leave my best friend to fend for themselves.”

♡ Ouch! You nearly topple over a display and break the glass. 

“..Best friends?” You cough.  “That sounds inaccurate.”

Ah, right. You had mentioned that, hadn’t you? Back when Yuu kept on pestering you, and you found no better alternative than to pin that label onto the one person you would never find yourself making friends with. His smile neither grows nor diminishes, remaining suspended in that infuriating middle ground where every word he utters sounds like the conclusion to a joke only he understands.

“I see. Then perhaps I’ve been reading the situation incorrectly.”

♡ You don’t get it too twisted. For what it’s worth, you know Jade doesn’t actually consider you a companion. In actuality, he doesn’t appear to find the idea of physical contact or friendship  too appealing as demonstrated from your botched cheek kiss, the embarrassment of which you mentally recoil from — so he makes do with throwing little jests at you. Perhaps he indulges himself in your micro-expressions, the way you school them, or the sneer you send his way. It’s a wicked game, but really, you’re not all that irked. In a way, you can proceed with your plan. The keeping-Jade-Leech-near-you plan. It worked before, he wards people off perfectly, doesn’t he?

♡ You.. just have to remain interesting enough. To his eyes, that is. You need to keep his curiosity at its apogee. The question at hand is: how do you do that?

“Incorrectly?” Your voice, brought into the moment.  It’s only now you realize that the both of you aren’t even looking at each other except for stolen glances eluding the other’s attention. Back to back, the two of you stare into opposing sides of a display. This can’t get any stiffer. “Usually, when a best friend disappears, they inform the other beforehand. An explanation, if you’ve ever heard of it.”

There’s silence. 

You can just see the surprise coloring his face. In tinges of blue, white, green— the sea, spumes of it contorted into  a release. Not a soft one, a milder, more slippery one.

“..I hadn't realized an explanation was expected.”

Something flickers across his face. You see it in the glass, the likeness of his it casts back at you when he moves his head to stare. It's gone so quickly you wonder if the light had merely shifted beneath the leaves overhead. Like a tinge of intrigue rejuvenated. You wonder what is so haplessly appealing about you?

“Then allow me to apologize.”

♡ The next moment, he’s offering you his arm, and you take it without hesitation. He’s had you close, and there he is,  leading you to.. where? You don’t question it, but along the way, he deigns you a glance down.

“Perhaps I was too presumptuous.”

You don’t. “... What’s this about now?”

His eyes grow a tad bit darker, but then he grins again and you frown.  "I had thought the interval of our separation might warrant another display of affection, to put it modestly..."

♡ You go still. 

♡ Jade picks up on it, giving you a questioning hum. It’s gone as soon as it inspissates, and you trudge forward to the destination.

♡ The cafeteria is loud, loud, loud! It feels foreign, because you spend most of your time secluded in your dorm, eating lunch junk where no one can see you. Apparently, the ghost chefs hired at said place were once five star connoisseurs, and you’d be nothing but dumb if you missed out on a chance you never had the luxury of in your past life... which goes to say: you aren’t exactly sure how to take him bringing you to the cafeteria, of all places.​​​​

♡   . . . 

“Can you go and get that sandwich for me?” Ouch, where are your manners? Eating with your mouth full? You mutter again just in case. “The one.. ugh, what’s it called? The one with the uhh—​​​​​the green thing?”

“Brazenly telling me to do your bidding,” even in the hubbub of an area this packed, he manages to embody that properness immaculately. “Heh, heh, heh,” you ignore that diabolical laugh. “Now, does it not disturb you we may not be as close as you think?”

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, mindfully chewing his question over. . . Of course, you’re never one to deem yourself of greater amity in his eyes, that’d be ludicrous to assume, but if you don’t play your cards right and act like they’re unstable, you feel like you won't be getting too far. ​​​​​

“..I don't know,” you admit after swallowing. There is no taste, you notice. “You haven't poisoned me yet.” ​​​​​​

Jade stills. There’s a glint in those eyes of his, it vanishes as soon as  he gives you room to ponder on your own spoken words. Why would that be your first thought? It works, though, because he prods.

“Is that your metric for friendship?”

“It’s a decent start.”

“You are very forgiving.” A chuckle sounds. “And if I refuse?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” heaving a sigh, you prop your chin on your hands woefully. “.. I would have to get it myself.. but it would’ve been really nice if you did it for me.”

“What do I receive in return?”

“I don’t know,” you drag a hand down your face. “I’ll decide when you get me my burger.”

“Did you not say you wanted a sandwich?”

“What's the difference?.. Fine. I have nineteen thaumarks you can probably barter for a mushroom pen or something.”

♡ You can tell Jade has to physically stop himself from appearing amused, because this little Scarabia NPC is genuinely trying to negotiate with their entire, non-existent wallet! Nevertheless, he doesn’t torment you more. Instead, he brings back the sandwich you wanted — and gods, it does look like the most appetizing thing on Earth. Without sparing it any mercy, you shove the thing into your mouth and disregard the question present in his eyes. 

“Forgive me for probing, but the manner with which you’re.. eating that sandwich..” His eyes widen the slightest bit. “I would assume this is the first time you’ve been given the opportunity.”

“You’re one to talk. Have you eaten anything other than Destroying angels?”

♡ Aha! Shock paints his face! 

♡ He is quick to mask it up, but even in that staid composure there appears to be something he wants to say to you, present in the still contemplation of his lips. Then, when you lean closer, he blinks back into reality. 

“What a predictable question,” he chuckles, his familiar close-eyed smile settling back into place. “If you truly wish to know, my palate has had the fortune of wandering rather extensively. I'd argue cuisine tells one far more about a culture than history books ever could. A nation's fears, its prosperity, the produce its soil permits... all of it finds its way onto a plate.”

You hastily clamp your lips shut. Perhaps egging him to go on a tangent wasn’t the best course of action.

“Take sandwiches, for instance. They're deceptively ordinary. Bread is rarely chosen at random. A dense rye carries fillings quite differently from an airy milk loaf, while sourdough lends enough acidity that one must consider the sharpness of the accompanying vegetables. Even the order in which ingredients are layered determines whether one tastes the meat first, the herbs first... or simply a regrettable mouthful of sauce.”

“Uh—”

“Mushrooms are especially remarkable in that regard. Their flavour changes so dramatically depending on the variety and preparation. A delicate sauté brings out an earthy sweetness, whereas roasting deepens their savoriness entirely. Some are wonderful folded into cream sauces, others are best left almost untouched. They're... surprisingly expressive ingredients.”

By the time he’s finished his prating, you’ve already downed everything at the table. Food’s shadow coils in the corners of your mouth as you relish in the aftertaste, but it’s a bit hard to do so, especially when the eel is eyeing you all the while. Tongue swiping across the back of your teeth, you emit a false cough and look towards him. You don’t even know what it is he’s eating, and you don’t question it. 

“For a second, I thought we weren’t talking about food anymore.” You quip, glancing at him. Hm, strange. Why’s he looking at you like he wants to pounce—

♡ He shoves a spoonful of food into your mouth!

​​​​“Did you taste the basil?” Utensil remaining untouched, he pours his attention onto you. The back of your palm bolsters your coughs as you try to get the shock out of your system, setting him straight with a mean glare. The sudden action combined with your little injury has you sure he just knocked a tooth out or something. 

“What the fu—” You massage your throat, immediately unsealing your lips to take a look at your mouth. No teeth knocked out, thankfully.  “You little..”

Open-mouthed, you think over his question. “There was basil?”

“..Hm.”

“I didn’t even taste it.”

“..Hm.”

“Is there usually basil in this?”

“Hm.”

His lackluster responses make you look at him.

♡ . .  . Strange how he’s looking at you back like that. 

♡ You blink at him. He’s staring at you like you just slapped a bucket of water over him. He only snaps out of it when you wave a hand over his face and seal your lips into a questioning line, eliciting an atypical.. gulp from him. 

”I apologize.” He closes his eyes. “What were you saying?”

“There was basil in this?”

Raising his fork, the prongs glister beneath the light, sliding along the curvature of its gaps. 

"There was. If I was where you’re sitting, I’d taste it quite deftly.. Simply because,” he muses and muses.

Stab! 

Prongs are embedded into a slab of food, guillotined by steel before your eyes and shredded open into rivulets like juice. Soundlessly directing your attention to those eyes, twins of olive-brown and gold nailed down with mirth, he croons.

“..My family always believed a meal ought to be savored rather than conquered.”

There is silence crowding the contest of eye contact. 

You excuse yourself shortly.

♡ Malleus Draconia and Cater Diamond are standing right fucking next to you. 

It’s time for your next class.

♡ The sentence is melodramatic, because for someone of such a high-sounding prestige, they’ve been confined to the space of the botanical garden's verdant grounds. When does one ever get the chance to utter that? Two complete opposites standing next to one another, and oh, there’s you too, trying not to drown in your own ill-fitting, misshapen lab uniform, but chances are they don't notice, because the heir to Briar Valley is completely soaked right now!

“What's going on here, Diamond? Why is water spraying at me out of nowhere?”

♡ Yikes. Even his voice is intimidating enough to make your spine stiffen. You're practically shivering in your boots.

♡ ...No, no. Pull yourself together. Trying to sneak past him now would only invite unwanted attention. All you have to do is what everyone else at Night Raven College seems to manage effortlessly: avert your eyes, keep your head down, and scurry off before the future king notices your existence. The campus had already written the script for interactions with Malleus Draconia years ago! Fear him. Avoid him. Pretend you have somewhere else to be! 

​​​​​​♡ It had only just struck the end of Alchemy, and you'd wandered into the subtropical section of the greenhouse to collect the specimen you'd been cultivating. Stumbling into... this... certainly hadn't been part of the itinerary. Then again, they were your schoolmates. Running into them shouldn't have been surprising. (Oh, it’s only surprising because you’ve completely isolated yourself from Yuu now. Avoiding them, never lingering long enough. Something within you ceases to exit when your mind wanders back to the infirmary. Was that real? Have you gone mad?)

“It's the sprinkler system.” You don't even need to look to picture Cater's grin. “They use it for irrigation. Whole zone's got a timer that mimics subtropical rainfall. Guess nobody gave you the tour.”

“Artificial rain...” Malleus repeats, almost thoughtfully.

A gloved hand reaches into the downpour. Water gathers upon his fingertips before dripping back into the beds of foliage below. “How curious. Humans truly do possess peculiar methods of tending their gardens.”

♡ You'd like to point out that the future king of Briar Valley is currently discovering... sprinklers, but you enjoy living. Besides, everyone has gaps in their knowledge. You, for one, still don't know why Professor Trein insists on carrying Lucius into class when the cat has never once demonstrated academic aptitude. Quietly, you crouch beside one of the planter boxes. Your herb should be... there! Perfect!

♡ Nearly uprooting the entire planter, you make a beeline towards the exit! Phew, you survived that. Now you have to suffer through the remainder of your classes. 

♡ Soon enough, most of them are over, and the midterm results are to be announced very, very soon. Before that, you adhere to your job as the Night Raven mailperson. It’d be wise of you to get the job done before there’s a herd gathering, and Kalim’s voice is already etched onto your mind by the time you’re carrying the letters. 

♡ Sifting through hundreds of parchments, you realize three of them belong to.. Diasomnia residents. There’s an anonymous love letter, Kalim’s invitation card, and a letter from home! You should be able to catch them on campus if you hurry — because you’ll have to delay your plans if they're in their respective dormitories. It also makes you lament on why you even agreed to deliver the invitation card to Silver, of all people, but you have to thank Kalim for his help some way. This just happened to be the easiest. Chances are you’ll find him drowning in sleep. Can’t be that hard. 

♡ It takes you a while to find him. The hallways are brimming with people. 

♡ True to your deduction, there he is, eyes slid down in respite and chest rising with ebbs and falls. Though you don’t look at his face that long, he's still dressed in his labwear. This should be easy enough— but quickening footfalls of other students have you sifting hastily through the bag — and you pluck out the card, tucking it into his pocket. He shuffles in his sleep, lips parted, murmuring something, but you’re already running off like your hands have caught fire. . . and they may as well have. 

♡ — Because halfway up the staircase, you realize the card is still in your hand. 

. . . . ?

You blink, turning it over. It’s Kalim’s invitation card. And— Diasomnia, right there. And.. there's the letter from home. And—

♡ The fucking love letter!

♡ You’re sprinting back, nearly toppling over the staircase. You gave him the love letter! A few students eye you— no, no, no — you feel stressed tears prick at your eyes when you see Silver’s resting place devoid of any presence. He’s gone! (With the love letter still in his pocket!)

♡  . . . By the time you return, huffing and puffing, you’re frowning. How the hell did you mess that up?  Fortunately, Jade’s already there, waiting for you. Arm in arm, you walk.

“Do I need to assume?”

“No.”

♡ It’s no biggie, you think. You’ll just catch him at a later time, or have someone retrieve the letter for you. Out of every love interest, Silver should be the most compliant. You just need to focus on something else. 

♡ A tide of students, the same as before. They’re all circling what looks to be the board, and some of them part when they catch the eel’s look. There’s a rush. A stampede. Midterm results are here. Bodies are released and ejected like someone kicked open an anthill, and through the writhing masses, you catch sight of . . Yuu. Grim, Ace, and Deuce. The furball’s pointing up at the listed names, and perpetual horror slashes everyone’s faces into two. What makes you uncertain, though, is that the prefect also looks horrified. 

Why do they look horrified?

Your answer comes in the form of an anemone ripping out of their hair. 

—Anemone in the prefect’s hair. 

Why the FUCK does Yuu also have an anemone?!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sincerelyruu @tsubito @jokesterreality @gloomuraaii @eepydeepysleepy66 @k3lbug @fanofkrauser @peter-the-pan @16-shieanne-16 @danna001 @littlepotaaatosimp

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@cens0r3d @thecloudsaremyhome @sinclaironestrogen @misdreavusmischief @tragicfiend @whatdoesthesenpai @silverluna3-blog @aelxr

@lennyadinonerd @thespiderinyourroom @quiet-place-for-thoughts @00hellohello00 @alheli1994-blog @domeofquietdreams @mspurpl3 @yumuramma

⤷ 𖹭゛𝓔𝓥𝓔𝓡 ˎˊ˗

since you were as small as the twinkles in the sky, you harboured a deep fascination with the fairy tales your mother told before bedtime. the sweet promises of a happily-ever-after, shrouded in eternal love during the sunset, never failed to coax you into restful sleeps, where you were surrounded by mountains of confessions.

they never came, those childhood dreams, as time gradually eroded the wounds in your heart from the sudden passing of your family. they classified it as an accident; a car crash happened due to the downpour and the darkness of the night. your father, who would buy you books after returning from his business trips, and your mother, who would tug you into bed, had died that day. people who your little mind assumed were untouchable, invincible, the pillars of your world, had been squashed into puddles of blood for one clumsy mistake.

the funeral was grand, crowded with figures you didn't know, hushed whispers that didn't escape your ears, and judgmental glances that were needlessly cruel to a child. a bad omen, they muttered under their breath, for how else could you manage to recover from your illness after they had passed away so suddenly? for what reason would they rush to the hospital during extremely terrible weather, if not for their bedridden child whose condition was said to have worsened overnight? they didn't hide it, not when your head hung low at the caskets, hands gripped the already withered white lilies.

the man who adopted you was cold and distant. he provided you with enough materials for a growing child, never yelled at you whenever you did something out of line, and never read stories for you. the estranged brother of your mother, the maids had informed you, had only taken up this newfound burden because of his love for his sister, even though it had been years since they last talked. his heart stopped there, long before the day your mother died, and completely closed to you. you wondered what it was like to live when one had died inside, a walking corpse among humans, as you strolled around the empty mansion, passing through the gossiping maids.

perhaps the lack of warmth fueled the inexplicable link you had to your trivial fantasies, the desperation in seeking another presence to complete your unwhole being. you changed, not vastly, to embrace the virtues of the main characters from your childhood, striving to perfect every aspect of your life, from your demeanor to your social circle. each and all of it was cultivated neatly, like a dedicated artist towards their craft, to fit yourself effortlessly into the confusing mold of the world. despite your effort, luck was not in your favor: romance came and went, as fleeting as the sands slipping through your fingers. your grip was always too weak to cling to them, as your eyes landed on that same familiar sight of their backs.

the excuses varied widely, though they could be summarized into a few contrasting words. you were too overwhelming, one stated, too careless, another remarked, too emotional, they told you, and too apathetic, they surmised. it was never enough for them; you were never enough for them. but you never blamed your partners, for it was obvious to you why they would say so. after all, you were bad news, only capable of bringing bad luck to everyone around you. you tried, and tried again, like that child in the manor near the coastal sea, to perfect yourself. flaws people said were there were weeded out mercilessly overnight, a room full of clothes that allowed you to change your fashion swiftly when your current relationship demanded it.

no matter your efforts, the tribulations you experienced while getting to know your partners more intimately, all of your love lines ended with melancholy. sometimes, there were ones kind enough to admit all the faults in the relationship belonged to them, but you knew better than to be fooled by those silly notions. you were determined to be the flawless protagonist in fairy tales and get that happily-ever-after you spent your whole life chasing. it was your deepest endeavour, something you couldn't let go even if the eyes were looking at you with pity.

"stubborness is hereditary." was what your uncle said.

you could stare at his back all day long.

"i think we should break up."

".....what." you curtly responded, eyes stopped at the straw of your smoothie that came into your vision. your smile must have strained, for your partner regarded you with caution, choosing their words carefully. it was supposed to be normal for you, but it was your first anniversary with them, in your favorite spot to dine, and wearing your favorite outfit.

"i don't think we can work this out! you are just...." those words again, every time, without a stutter, they were spat into your face ruthlessly. you sat up abruptly, feeling your ears ringing with the sound of your heartbeats as you rushed out from the cafe. you couldn't handle this, regardless of how many times you had experienced it. your clutch against your collar tightened, gloved hands wanting nothing more than to claw the organ responsible for the pumping in your veins out.

you loathed how hopeless romantic you were, dreaming of an unreachable ending that was not written for your ill fate. you would die alone, like a corpse, like your uncle, with a heartbeat for no other reason than survival. panting breathlessly as a poor attempt to regain your composure after minutes of running down the roads, you failed to react accordingly to the horses coming at you.

everything turned black.

"𝐢 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞."

the winds kissed you awake. playfully gentle and chaste, they helped your eyes open quietly. the first sensation you registered was the utter comfort cushioning you, a feeling you felt whenever you would lie in your bed, squealing at the prospect of a valentine. your line of vision was obstructed by something, and when your hands instinctively reached up, you were met with soft fabric. it reminded you of simpler times, when clothes were loose on you, enough to let you wander around the house with the little strength you had. how noltasgic, but nonetheless, peculiar, as moments ago, you were walking through the streets like a lost deer. the place you were standing in, after taking a brief look around your surroundings with the hood off, was unfamiliar, from the gardening techniques to the architectural structures. everything about it screamed of danger, the kind that instincts would warn you about when you tread into an unknown realm.

your eyes were drawn to the well nearby, fingers traced against the rough surface of the bricks. what a wonderous, considering these things had mostly been extinct in large cities. to see a well here must have meant the place you were transported to was antique to an extent. curiosity tugged your upper half to lean into the seemingly pitless abyss of it, almost falling of the ledge if not for a strange voice behind you.

"be careful, child of man." you jolted up, sighing in relief not to have landed on the ground clumsily. turning around to thank your savior, you could feel the growing thumping of your heart. you had seen many models before, plastered on the fashion magazines piling up in your room and yet, the beauty of this silhoutte was simply otherwordly. your hands clasped, a sudden nervousness stuck on the tip of your tongue as your eyes darted onto the ground. it was unfair, for the world to toss such an elegance in your face after a horrible break-up. and you had already ruined your chance, with how long you took to speak up.

"....your eyes are really pretty..." both of you seemed surprised at your words, with you wishing to jump into that well again. the alluring embrace of the robes turned into a smothering hug that raised your temperature at his chuckle. this must be a dream, a wondrous imagination your mind deliberately painted to soothe your sadness, for there was no normal human you had met that had horns.

you didn't want to wake up, not right away anyways.

"i'm sorry! it's rude of me!" you waved your hands, though your heart slowed down when you heard another chuckle. he found your state amusing, not offensive.

"you did not offend me, child of man. in fact, i admire your fearlessness." your eyes were blinded by his smile, fingers itching to cover your face from it. this was the most complex dream your mind had graced you with.

"may i have the honor to be bestowed with your name?" the handsome man asked for your name first! what's next? you would be married to him amidst the cheerful tolling of the bell as the sky was spilled with the warm orange of dusk?

"uh....my name is-"

"ah, i've found you at last!" your words were interrupted rudely by the grating voice of another stranger. the alarm in your body immediately went off, from the weird outfit he donned to the bright yellow circles that locked onto you. observing, he was doing so, as though you were a lost trinket that had escaped his collection.

"i understand you first year's excitement to explore the school!" he shook his head. "but for you to loll around with.....MR. DRACONIA!?"

what a weird dream, was what your final thought as a sudden exhaustion overtook your mind.

⤷ 𖹭゛𝓜𝓐𝓛𝓛𝓔𝓤𝓢ˎˊ˗

wouldn't consider himself forgetful. however, important ceremonies slipped his mind at times, as he would rely on invitations rather than keeping a neat schedule. the dragon fae would have absolutely fumed at the headmage for daring to forget to invite him to such an important occasion, had the odd human who had complimented him not been slumping against his shoulders. he ignored the fumbling apologies from crowley and instead fixed his eyes on your sleeping form.

it reminded him of silver, and his habit of falling asleep everywhere. except, instead of looking peaceful, your face was contorted into that of clear distress, beads of sweat rolled down from your forehead. it pained him to see the early airheaded human be reduced to this state.

"i offer you my sincerest apologies, mr. draconia! it was a mere oversight from the school." crowley continued on, not long before he stopped at the sight in front of him. ah! young love! he was so glad to still be alive to witness such a thing.

"well, it seems like the new student does require some assistance to be carried to the orientation ceremony. however, my poor, frail bones cannot serve me like before..." he tried to conceal his smirk when you were tossed into malleus' embrace. for his school would be the place where the future ruler of briar valley wound find love was a massive honor.

⤷ 𖹭゛𝓣𝓗𝓔ˎˊ˗

sight, according to the fragments of gossiping you would later collect during your attendance, was nothing short of scandalous. the housewarden of diasomnia, who was once again forgotten to be invited, entered the blazing orientation with a human sleeping contentedly in his arms. the diasomnia members reacted with the most mirth, with sebek almost fainting to the ground, lilia laughing as though this were the most hilarious thing he had witnessed in centuries, and silver seemingly dissociating. even when he awoke you from your little nap, he did it with such gentleness it left the whole room in silence, despite the ongoing fire hazard.

"stop poking me...." you huffed, still in the haze of your slumber, though that soon evaporated upon the heat of the room. jumping from malleus, an action which saddened him so, your eyes widened at the blue fires dancing everywhere.

"oh god! someone-" and before you could even finish the sentence, the disaster had already been stopped by the fae's magic. when the inkling that this was your new reality started pitter-pattering in your stomach, the mirror in front of you had spoken.

"state your name." the absurd mask appeared in green flames, at which you squinted.

"[name]..." was that too short? "....[name] gallumbe."

"the nature of your soul is...."

"...."

"...."

"...."

"destructive."

fuck this mirror for ruining your dream.

♡ You start with the people you're well-acquainted with. Dropping off packages, trying to clean some stuff up, but much to your chagrin — there is one garnet-eyed boy who won’t let you go so easily. Kalim has a penchant for making 2-minute tasks lengthen out into 5-hour hangout sessions, and in truth, most of your income stems from him as well. As a Scarabia resident, you've more chance encountering him. And Jamil, in the stead of your previous devastatingly vague conversaton, is clad in a forever stillness. Like a snake, like a true viper, whatever metaphor you’d like to pin to his name , it’s true he does not trust you one bit. 

Gloves brush wood as Jade shifts, mulling your work over his tongue. “My, how cold. And after I went through the trouble of finding you such… plentiful work opportunities.”

You look up, squinting. The eel smiles - surprisingly, a flash of white - sly, sly thing  that could be framed and hung in a museum titled Nothing Is Wrong Here. “Explain."

“Why, merely that you’ve been quite busy as of late. I thought I might… assist.”

Assist, because clearly, your life needed more interference. You turn back to your work, sifting through papers and to do-lists. Much to your dismay, the people at Night Raven latch onto profitable kindness quite viciously. “Yeah, well, don’t.”

“I can’t help but feel it’s a shame. When there are far more… comfortable arrangements available to you.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“My poor, poor heart.”

Unease prods at you once more. Jade’s presence thickening, shrouding your esophagus with an intensity just shy of crushing it raw. You shift on the chair, turning so you don’t face the male, legs pressed together in an endeavour of making yourself seem smaller in his mismatched focal point. 

But he notices in an instant. 

“Is something the matter?” He eyes you, before letting his head dip inquisitively. “..Dare I assume, are you mad at me?”

Lest you respond too quickly - against his liking - the weight lifts itself off your table, and in true eel fashion, he slinks and slants behind you just as quickly.You swear you feel an irked muscle pop in your jaw when you realize you’re completely caged — one hand braced against the back of your chair, the other idly toying with a loose sheet of paper you’d been sorting. His smile hasn’t changed, but it’s  closer now.

“Ah,” Jade hums, voice dipping lower, nearer your ear than you’d like. “So I was correct, you’re avoiding me.”

You stiffen, a newfound aridity scouring your throat. “No, I’m just busy, ’s all.”

“Yes,” he agrees easily, as if the word itself amuses him. “So I’ve observed, and yet, you seem to have time for everyone else. I am your Club Leader, after all.”

The paper slips from his fingers, fluttering uselessly back onto the pile you’d been trying to organize for the past fifteen minutes. Knuckling at your lids, you sigh. “Look, Jade. I don’t have time for whatever this is. I’ve got deliveries to finish, and if I don’t—”

“You’ll what?” he asks gently, luxuriating in your falter. “You’ll fall behind? Lose your footing? Fade back into obscurity? So many choices.”

“I’ll get broke and die, then you’ll have to pry my deliveries right out of my cold, dead hands.”

Silence ensues. 

But it doesn’t take much longer for that smile to quirk and coil around your words. He straightens, and his hand moves towards your wrist, a touch so light you almost don’t register it.

“Then allow me to be of use.”

♡ Ouch! You smack him right over the head with a loose sheet of paper that, in truth, delivers zero damage, but it’s enough to momentarily catch him off guard. He blinks out of his stupor, and catches you walking out of the Mountain Lovers club, huffing and puffing. 

♡  But  you  don’t make it very far. Right as you open the door, you’re sure your heart drops straight to your stomach. 

♡ Blue and red, a spade and a heart linger at the sides of a visage you know all too well. Yuu, previously looking at the plaque above the door, stills when they see.. you. They blink, a list clutched in their hand, and suddenly, they’re spluttering, a warmth, a scorching tide gnawing at their face. You’ve no idea what they’re saying, but holy shit, do you have the most doomed luck in Twisted Wonderland? It’s very obvious they can’t keep their eyes off you.. and with the list in their hands, you’ve an inkling they’re picking out clubs with Ace and Deuce trying to assist them. 

♡ What the hell do you do now?

”I..” They breathe, eyeing you up and down. “I... woah.”

Ace groans, and he looks at you with such palpable irritation it’s baffling. “Here we go again. Man, I want to be anywhere but here right now.”

No doubt dragged to this occasion by the Yuu he couldn’t possibly refuse, Deuce remains silent, but his eyes are trained on you, puzzled. He recognizes you, you’re sure. You’ve survived spells, survived Jade, survived academic failure, survived Rook and Vil, and this—this—is what takes you out?

“Uh—hi?” Yuu tries again. The list in their hand crinkles audibly under the pressure of their grip. “You’re— I mean— I saw you earlier— not like saw saw, but— you fell in my lap and.. Um!”

“…you’re blocking my way,” you manage.

Heedless, they chuckle. It’s soft, airy, but at the same time,  a little breathless. Like they didn’t expect you to speak at all, let alone that.

“Right. Sorry. I just..” Their gaze drops, then treks upward to your face again, the latter unpleasantly miffed. “.. I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to see you again. You’re just, so, so.. You have a Magicam  account right? Give me— may I have your user?”

♡ A product of Yuu’s position as the main character. They probably deem you a random NPC, easily subject to their system’s whims and relationship level boosts. Perhaps they think if they throw in a flirty line or two that’ll get you to fluster and fall to their charm, but luckily, you’re just a brokie. And a spud. And a pup. And a nameless club member. You’re many things at once, but you’re not Yuu’s yes-man.

“Uh-huh. You’re still blocking my way.”

Something befalls Yuu’s gaze, quickly shadowed by another hopeful glint in their irises. Their attention travels somewhere behind you, and that’s, in truth, enough of a tell that an eel is lurking real close. 

“Ah. You’ve acquired company.”

”Jade!” Yuu chirps, the aforementioned acknowledging them with a close-eyed nod. Ah, right. Honestly, you think your time here is up. Jade’s head over heels for them, after all. “Oh, wow! How’ve you been? It’s been so, so long since I’ve-”

“Likewise. And.. if I may ask,” Jade opens his eyes. “What brings you here?”

Your lips crimp at that.

Yuu shifts the list in their hands, fingers fidgeting against the edges like it might fly away if they don’t hold it tight enough.

“I was actually—” they start, glancing up at the plaque above the door, then back at you, “—looking into this club.”

…

♡ No. No, absolutely not! This is the only club you deem safe enough. No, no, no. If Yuu enters, that foils all your plans. If Yuu enters, Ace and Deuce too. And if Ace and Deuce enter, then so will all of Yuu’s envious suitors. Jade, you can feel him start to simmer, feel him bend down to Yuu’s demand, feel him rife with joy-

“The Mountain Lovers Club is, regrettably, quite exclusive. I’m afraid you’ll not find an available seat. ”

♡ This is the very first time you’ll admit you could kiss him in gratitude.

Vision skewed and graciously dazed, you peer at the sides of his face --his mien unperturbed.  Ace and Deuce blink with you, but only Yuu verbalizes their confusion. 

“Oh.” They seem shocked, in disbelief. The stagnant pause ends with a meek: “…Really?”

“Yes.” Jade doesn’t miss a beat. “Our activities require a certain… disposition.. that is to say, endurance and compatibility with the environment.”

“—Yes!” You blurt, softening the blow. “Yes, yes it is! It’s also a.. best-friends only thing, if you know what I mean.”

Deuce, having been quiet all this time, finally speaks. “..Are you sure?”  He gestures to the male beside you. “Even he seems shocked you’re best friends.”

♡ Ack! Jade can’t be any more obvious. Pupils dilated, lips slightly ajar, it takes you right back to your proclamation of being best friends. With a  surreptitious nudge to his elbow, you bring him right back into reality, and he quickly masks his shock with an air of contentment. 

”...Yes, you heard them correctly.”

Yuu, however, just blinks again, visibly deflating. “Oh… I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“It isn’t,” Ace mutters under his breath.

They all watch as Jade steps closer. His gloved hand lifts, and before you can even process it all, positions itself upon your shoulder. And before he can process it, you sling an arm around his and reel him right back in, cracking a very wobbly grin. Oh! From this proximity, you think you can feel the tempo of a heart beating oh-so viciously, but you clear your throat and play the part. This is not looking so good. 

“Oh?” he blinks, close to your face, slanting down to match your level. “..I wasn’t aware we’d reached such prestigious heights.”

You tighten your grip. “We have. We totally have.”

“Hm. Then I must apologize,” he says lightly, turning his attention back to the trio. “It seems I’ve been a rather inattentive friend.”

Ace squints. “You don’t even sound convincing.”

“I assure you, I am nothing if not sincere.”

“Cap.”

Deuce, still frowning, crosses his arms. “If you’re really best friends, then it shouldn’t be hard to answer a few questions.”

.... Oh, dear. 

♡ Turns out, you and Jade, two peas in a pod, know nothing about each other. In truth, he was never your favorite character in the Twisted Hearts series -- and so you’d never pay heed to his personal character tabs, but having to face this reality is humiliating, to say the least... and that is to say, this guy is clueless. 

“What’s their name?”

“...Ah.”

“What do you mean by ‘Ah’? Their name is Ah?”

“I was under the impression that such formalities were unnecessary between close companions.”

“Haha, yeah, we’re just, like, on a first-name basis.”

♡ Yuu has a lot of questions to ask. 

“What’s their favorite thing about you?”

“Oh..”

”Ah..”

”Er— after you.”

“No, no. I insist. After you.”

“I insist more.”

  Ace looks ready to walk into traffic.

“I REALLY like his personality.”

“Do you now?” Jade echoes, the glister in his eyes lifting up his dazed bid at a smile. 

“Mhm. You’re so.. eel-like. Heh.”

“…Eel-like.”

“Yeah, like—uh—adaptable? Slippery? Good in social situations?”

“How kind,” he says, once he recovers, eyes glinting. “Then I suppose I should return the sentiment.”

Oh no.

“You are,” he begins, looking directly at you now, “remarkably persistent.”

“…That’s not—”

“And quite entertaining,” he continues smoothly. The rest watch the spectacle in both shared puzzlement and horror. “In a way that is… difficult to replicate.”

Your face heats. “That’s also not—”

“And,” he adds, softer now, “surprisingly honest, when it matters.”

♡ Having enough, Ace tells the others to hurry off before you two actually start making out. Yuu, however, follows his remark only with a tentative stride, glancing back at the now intertwined hands of you and the eel. You really are close, huh? It baffled them, up until now, they’d never heard of you.

♡ You.. however. 

♡ You’re thinking just how.. profitable keeping Jade Leech around is.  

♡ Someone’s been stealing your stuff.

♡ The thought is inevitable just as you make a routine count-down of all your belongings. You’re three numbers down, and you’re beginning to dread everything. (Though, you can’t help but scowl at the thought. Seriously, what good would it do to them to steal a half-chewed pencil, of all things? That freak..)

♡ The suspect is pretty clear to you, but you have an inkling there’s more to this.

♡ In order to dissuade yourself from the very large problem at hand, you tend to your mounting list of customers. In Pomefiore, you’re supposed to drop off a package, no doubt related to cosmetics. In Savanaclaw, something related to workout equipment. In Heartslabyul, you’re supposed to walk someone’s pet.. mouse. You skip over Octavinelle and Jade’s very evident handwriting - (a scheme to catch your presence.) And Scarabia...

♡ Gulp.

“You’re here!!”

Though, you’ve only met Kalim a couple of times, (more so because his gifted pile of adornments was endless), he still has the gall to beam  at you like you’ve laid out the desert stars yourself. Hands folding upon yours and bringing you forward, conversely, he watches you shrink into your collar.  “You didn’t tell me you were coming today! Jamil—did you know they were coming today?”

“Um.. I live here.”

From somewhere behind him, air whistles through Jamil’s teeth.  “No.” His eyes flick to the package in your hands, then swiftly back to your awkward stance. 

“You’re here for a delivery,” Jamil says. 

“Yeah. I was just gonna—”

“Stay for lunch!”

♡ And thus, today marks the day you’ve sold your soul for food, of all things. Seated and gently trapped, a decade’s worth of food presents itself before you, and the aromas effused gnaw at your senses, tempting. Spices, drinks, whatnot.  Kalim keeps piling more onto your plate like he’s trying to win a competition you didn’t agree to join. Though, as much as you feel Jamil’s opposition to you, he isn’t afraid to litter your already dazed mind with a maelstrom of questions. You wonder what it may be, the cause of his vehemence. Maybe because of the injury incident? Maybe because your presence results in greater work for him? Whatever it is, you dabble.

“Try this one! Oh—and this—Jamil made it!”

“Kalim,” Jamil cuts in, voice smooth, “they can serve themselves.”

“They don’t take enough!”

“They won’t starve in the five seconds it takes to decide.” Jamil directs his gaze to you, trying to oh-so vigorously ignore the fact you’re stuffing things into your mouth like you’ve been starved since your birth. It’s quite strange. Here in Scarabia, food is never a scarcity. “You’ve been taking on more work lately.”

You try to play it off. “Just… saving up.”

“For what.”

Your lashes dip. “Just in case.”

Jamil tilts his head slightly. “In case of what.”

God, he doesn’t let anything go, does he?

“In case I need it,” you mutter, poking at your food.

“If you need money, you can just ask me.” Kalim butts in. 

They don’t miss the sliver of light - suited to an opportunist - glistering in your irises. You think to yourself for  a moment, mulling it over your tongue. Was it really that easy? Had you really been prolonging your misery for nothing? Whirling your head towards Kalim, you hope you don’t come off as too eager. This could be your chance! “...Really? You’d do that?”

Jamil pinches the bridge of his nose. “Kalim, please. You are not funding every person who steps into this dorm.”

“I’m not.. Just them!”

“—But I really, really need it, Ka— Housewarden.”  Correcting yourself, pulling a clump of lashes down towards your woebegone gaze and overstretched lips, you extend a faltering hand to the white-haired boy. “I’ve been working so hard lately..” Only for one day, but you twist around the hurdle. “And it’s just not enough.”

Needless to say, his expression melts. As it should, who are you if not committed?

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn't important. But now, I fear I soon may..” You clench your heart over your chest. “Perish.”

Silence stretches around your words, intercepted only by Jamil’s very blunt, accusatory finger.

“You’re eating.” He remarks. 

You shove another bite into your mouth. Taste bursts sharp and savoury. “Who’s to say? This could be my last meal.”

“What?” Kalim blinks, horror dawning upon sun-kissed features. “Huh—”

”Yes.”

“Yes. Yes, let’s all acknowledge the very real threat of starvation currently occurring at this table, of all places.”

Your hand stretches a little further toward Kalim, fingers trembling just enough to sell it. “…Please?”

The speed with which he latches onto your hand - warm, buoyant and unabashed - does not catch you off guard. You relish in it, if only for a moment. “Yes! Of course I will! Besides, it’s my duty as your housewarden to look after you!” White shines in his smile. “Right, Jamil?”

The latter counts down to a number that only exists in his mind. Exhaling, he comes to a standstill. “...Within reason.”

“Yes!” Kalim lights up instantly, squeezing your hand with verve. Your fingers twitch in his grasp when you reciprocate. “See? It’s settled!”

“I knew you’d understand,” you try a smile. “You’re really, really kind. I’m glad to have you as my Housewarden.”

Kalim beams like you’ve handed him the world. 

“Of course I am!” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in existence. “And you don’t have to work so hard, you know? You can just come to me!”

Jamil’s eye twitches.

“That’s what I’m concerned about.” You huff a quiet laugh, glancing down at your plate, now ludicrously full, courtesy of Kalim’s earlier enthusiasm. “…It’s not like I hate working.”

That much is true.

“It’s just…” You pause, poking lightly at the edge of your dish. Poisonous spumes of memories; heels, scales, a classroom - make you lodge your lip between your teeth as you forage for the right words. You didn’t hate working. Working had become a part of your routine, you’d worked endlessly to evade, elude and ignore. You just don’t like it when..

 “I’d rather not owe anyone anything.”

The words slip out before you can dress them up. Jamil stills at the variation in tone, but Kalim slants his head, thinking over it. 

“Oh,” he says softly, and just like that, the energy shifts. “Well,” Kalim continues, thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand without thinking, “then don’t think of it like that.”

You blink. “Like what?”

“Like you owe me,” he says, as if the idea itself is ridiculous. “Think of it like… I’m helping my friend. Yeah, that’s it! You have other friends, right? I’m sure they don’t do all that stuff just to put you in some sort of debt!”  At the growing sombre wave over your expression, he gawks. ”You do have other friends, right?” 

♡ Right. An heir. Your friend. The two don’t match.

“Yeah!” You blurt before he can offer himself. “Yeah, I have one.. Uh, it’s.. his name is Jade!”

“Jade? Jade Leech?” He stares, before laughing quite heartily. “I know him! Hey, bring him over next time. Oh, I’ll even invite Yuu!”

Imperceptibly - just a tincture of change - you latch onto the pleasant change of thought pooling over Jamil’s unfairly pretty face, like a starving man. He was going to atleast try to mitigate Kalim’s suggestions, but the mere mention of the prefect has him chewing down his words, and when he partially turns his face to the side, the fabric of his hood conceals  warmth and a shy-tipped smile.

 “..Hm.” His eyes sparkle. “I suppose we can-”

“So,” you shovel three bites into your mouth now. “Where’s my money?”

“...On the condition we exclude you from such occasions.”

♡ Scarabia’s Number One loser turns to the side and wilts, but not before catching the bare of a chuckle whispering through the snake’s teeth. 

♡ Ouch! You’ve never dealt with classes amiably, and since then it’s devolved into some sort of a love-hate relationship. You’re not in the wrong here, of course. In your defense, the only thing you know about Astronomy are the zodiac signs. (..Or were they related to astrology? Oh, well, whatever). Animal Languages, Humanities, whatnot, they all are just as unbearable to you as Potionology, and your backbencher self can only retain so much of magical knowledge. 

♡ Needless to say, it’s a surprise to hear Professor Crewel start the day with a hint relayed over upcoming exams. You don’t care much about them, you know just enough to pass and stay out of any leaderboard lest you garner unwarranted attention (a plan you're failing at, at the moment). With Vil as your tutor, you think you’ve secured a solid position in the future.. Though, a  bit too solid for your liking. You might have to deliberately get a few stuff wrong in order to not  be the centre of praise, but just enough to qualify as average and not earn yourself an office tongue-lashing. Haha..

♡ Ah, right. Speaking of Vil, you’ve been granted the luxury of not being his focal point for now. Not so much, atleast. He seems much too preoccupied with the Pomefiore students under his lead, and for once, you’ve some time to yourself.. Hm, actually, you haven't interacted much since he got ahold of you in the classroom. No matter. It’s all tightrope walk, really. Unfortunately, you’re starting to suspect someone’s shaking the rope.

“You’ve been getting better.”

♡ Huh? You pause, pen hovering awkwardly over parchment. The voice beside you is unfamiliar yet not entirely so. Turning slightly, you’re met with the face of—ah. Right. Scarabia Student B. A reliable constant in your classes, someone who exists in that peculiar space of always there, never noticed - much like you. 

“…I have?” you reply, qurking a brow. 

“Mhm. ” He  perks up. “Potionology, especially! You used to look like you were about to pass out.. Sorry, no offense, but did you take Ashengrotto up on one of his offers?”

“None taken.” Your pen dances in the open spaces of your fingers. “Ashengrotto? No.”

“Oh.” He seems confused, much to your dismay. It only invites more conversation. “I figured as much. You don’t seem like the type to.. jump on the bandwagon like everyone else. All my dorm-mates are egging me on to strike a contract with him.”

Our dorm-mates. 

♡ Hm. You recall Jade’s previous allusions to you doing the same. Rule Number One: never make a deal, never be in debt.

“Also,” He prods. “Are you okay?”

♡ Oops! In order to placate your rapidly growing heartbeat and the perspiration streaming beneath your clothes, you’ve resorted to chewing at your nails - not realizing how weird that may seem. You can’t blame yourself. You’re just trying to.. prepare yourself for what you’re about to do - it takes will, courage and audacity, for some reason you have all three of those no matter how mild.

♡  You hum noncommittally then gulp nervously,  turning back to your notes, though your handwriting grows just a tad bit more jagged... But since you’ve incited conversation, you see how this story goes. 

 “You’ve also been… around more,” he adds as an afterthought. A sideways glance is all it takes for you to see the glister in his eyes - rendering your pen motionless. You’ve been writing nothing but nonsensical sentences, atleast to his mind, again and again, for the pursuit of I’m busy, let me be. But in actuality, this is all a part of one of the most well-crafted plans you have up your sleeve (one that’s not torn up from the several wildlife you’ve encountered on your hikes).  What to do, how to, what-ifs.  

♡ What if Scarabia Student B thinks ill of you after seeing the stuff you’re writing? Oh, well. You know beggars can’t be choosers - in the sheer chaos of your life, this is one of the risks you’re going to choose, even if it foils the sole thing you’re living for. 

“…Around?” 

“Yeah. Scarabia, obviously. But I’ve seen you near Octavinelle too. And Pomefiore! Vil Schoenheit’s tutoring you right? Everyone’s talking about how lucky you are.”

Oh.

Oh, that’s.. That’s really  not good, you think. In the stead of a frown, you give a light, airy laugh. 

 “If you’re trying to get into a different dorm’s good graces,” Scarabia Student B continues, “you should be careful.”

♡  You sink slightly into your seat, exhaling through your nose. So much for subtlety. You’d thought your little job-hopping routine was clever, a way to slip between cracks and stay just out of reach. But cracks, it seems, still run deep. 

♡  At the front, Professor Crewel snaps his pointer against the board.

“Eyes forward, pups. Some of you seem far too comfortable drifting.”

♡ When you lean back, you forget one thing: your life is terribly, inevitably, and terminally out of your hands.

“Psst!”

“I’m not giving you the answers, Bucchi.”

♡ Or not. When you mask your words in vitriol, Ruggie Bucchi - your classmate, trying so hard just to cop a look at your notes, though you’re not even in a pop quiz, deflates.  Rule Number Two: never give anyone the answer to anything.

Finally! Class zooms by quite swiftly, and when the students stream like little, vexing ants in a disparate gaze, you’re quick to scramble for your belongings and exit. Jade, as always, waits for you at the edge, and upon seeing you near him - practiced hand upon his chest - 

♡ Allows his mind to draw a blank. 

♡ Huh?

♡ Are you really holding his hand?

The barrier of his gloves  may seperate the sensation of fingers entwining, but he’s sure, no, certain you’ve enjoined hands. His gaze dips - to see the spectacle, so thoughtfully, so carelessly, so eagerly slotted against his like it’s always been there. 

“I told you not to wait for me,” Your usual grumble sounds loud today. “Whatever. Thank you, though.”

Like it’s natural. 

“Jade.” You deadpan. Ah, you really were on a first name basis. “Did you short-circuit? Hellooo?”

”Not at all.” His reply is immediate, and so is the suave upturn of his lips as he regards you. Fully reciprocating your hold, he hums as if he hadn't just pondered over your dynamic in the span of a heartbeat. “I was merely considering something.”

“Yeah, well, consider walking.”

You tug him forward, and he complies, seamlessly weaving in the newfound hubbub of the halls. Students pass, chatter ebbs and flows, yet it all feels even more distant to him now, for the sole reason you still haven’t relinquished your hold. You get weird, inquisitive glances from passerbys, and when you still don’t let your grip slacken, he realizes, all the more entertained, that this is intentional. 

“So,” you eye him. “You don’t have anything to do, right?”

“For you?” He replies smoothly. “I always find myself remarkably available.”

“Good, then walk me to my dorm. Actually, no, my room.”

“My, my.. I certainly wasn’t aware we’d grown this close.”

“Don’t you dare.” Whirling around a corner, you narrowly dodge a group of unsuspecting, giggling freshies. They all disperse when they see the eel willingly trail after, hand in hand, Jackpot. You were on the mark with your little analogy. “I’m skipping my remaining classes, ‘is all.”

Jade has a strange, numb, faraway look in his eyes as he talks. If you were any smarter, you’d compare his mental state to a giggling schoolgirl, feet kicking high up in the air and all. “Oh? Even if Vargas will have your head for it?”

“What am I to do?” You grouch, he can never get tired of it,  surprisingly. “I have so many jobs I need to pick up. So many deliveries, packages, dorms. My next job..”

“Where might that be?”

“Nowhere near Octavinelle.” You make a face at him. “I’ll have you know your handwriting is very identifiable, you’re not slick.” 

A soft laugh escapes him, a lie so gentle it almost feels true. ”Very well, then. I shall behave.”

♡ The journey to the Hall of Mirrors is easy and slow-paced, and in no time are you standing outside your room, bidding Jade adieu, or atleast the form of it you think would max out your stats. Scarabia’s numbers at this time are limited, considering they’re all very big on their grades and whatnot - so that buys you some time to do the unthinkable-

”I must admit-" He drawls on with his usual background yapping..

- the very core of your plan, the one you’ve mentally steeling yourself for, the one you’ve been rehearsing in the mirror for-

“Seeing you take such liberties to-”

♡ The next time Jade opens his eyes, he is sure of one thing. The ephemeral sensation of you coaxing yourself up and pecking his cheek happened, and this time there’s no barrier to try and think otherwise. 

Rule Number Three - keep your enemies far away, and Jade closer than ever.

♡ The next time you open your eyes, you’re very sure he just malfunctioned, gloved hand perched upon his cheek incredulously. Blinking, once, twice, doing nothing to remedy the touch -

”You..”

“Anyways,”  You shimmy inside before he can get a word in. “See you later.”

The door slams shut in his bleary-eyed, wobbling face. 

♡  For the next few days, you’re inclined into believing you just messed up whatever chance you had at salvation...because surprisingly, Jade’s stood. you. up.

♡ Surely, as a fellow second year, he must have as many responsibilities  as  you, and you surely don’t doubt that bit at all. Mostro Lounge must be another factor, and if Azul's really getting around to those contracts as per Student B’s words, then he must be more packed than ever. Still, you can’t imagine any other universe where you’d get withdrawal symptoms from the fact the eel no longer waits for you after class, nor does he come by to your ever-growing hike sessions. That foils the plan of no-attention, sure, but you sure as hell don’t want to go to Octavinelle just to bring him back, you’d be a fool to. Still, now, things have actually reverted back to the way you wanted them to - with you on your lonesome. 

♡ Not entirely on your lonesome, though. Vil is still a hindrance. Sometimes, he does manage to make some time for you, much to your dismay. And when you pivot and bolt away, one French-speaking hunter is always there to mitigate the problem. It’s always embarrassing watching people wonder why a grown student is thrashing around and screaming like a toddler whilst being dragged off by a Vice Housewarden… 

♡ Ouch. That sets it. You’ve no clue how to proceed now. 

♡ You can easily bypass Scarabia attention by sneaking awày and coming in late, past curfew. Pomefiore is inevitable, and so is Octavinelle, and ultimately, with Crewel’s insistence on you growing a backbone and learning how to actually fare well with academics, you’ve slowly and gradually reached one, final dead end. 

A Pomefiore dead end. All your encounters go somewhat like this.

“I take it you’ve learned better than to run from me, spud.” Silky blonde, pale purple wisps and perfume pool in your sight. Vil Schoenheit can see you preparing to run.

Surprisingly, and regretfully,  you  turn. Even outside of Pomefiore’s halls, he looks like he belongs on a stage rather than a school corridor.

“I  wasn’t  running.” 

“You  were  given  a  rare   opportunity,”  he  says, voice lowering. “Do  you  know  how  many  would  beg  for  the kind  of  guidance  I’ve  offered  you?”

He doesn’t like you groaning.“ Ughhh.. Fine. I’m lucky, I get it, okay? Now, if you’d just-”

“No, you don’t.”

Before you follow through with your plan and take to your heels, an icy hand grasps your chin, directing your gaze towards an even more vexed one. And despite yourself, a pesky chill dances up your spine — days have passed, and you’ve still yet to overcome the outlandish feeling of discomfort you get from him.  With pursed lips do you shrink, but with just a lone tap on them alone, you’re compelled into relaxing them and entertaining Vil’s caprices. 

Exhaling softly, he seems almost disappointed, brows sloping. “You’re inconsistent, spud. Your potential fluctuates wildly. One day you perform adequately, the next you sabotage yourself with careless mistakes. Deliberate mediocrity is still a choice, and a poor one.”

When you avert your gaze,  the sheer, bona fide pressure of long nails — albeit unintentional —  sinks deep enough to incite a hiss from you. 

“I’m aware you’re trying not to stand out.. but why,” A tap and your cheeks are practically smushed together.  “would that ever be something to strive for?

♡ Oh! Vil doesn’t even know the half of it.  How you’re just a background character, how you know wreckage and would do anything not to be part of it, how you’d do anything in your power to just stay away and never be perceived again, how every single line of the script has slowly been crumbling ever since you’d made a flimsy little mistake, how he doesn’t even exist.  You could go on and on, but truly,  what would he know? 

A downturn, a slope of your lips is what you give him instead of an answer, and in return you hear another soft sigh of exhaustion. 

 “Oh, sevens..”  he adds with his voice dipping just slightly, “instead of refining what you’ve been given, you choose to squander it.”

“I’m not squandering anything.”

“Then what would you call it?” he shoots back smoothly. “Intentionally answering incorrectly? Slouching through assignments you are clearly capable of completing? Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“...Oh.”

♡ Commences the never-ending loop of Pomefiore halls, stacked deadlines, and a huge bunch of books. It's quite laughable, to say the least, out of all your potential encounters, Vil is truly the only one who makes you uncomfortable enough to consider bolting away

♡  .. though you can never remember why. 

♡  “Psst...”

“No.. No.. I.. ” You slur and forget to thank him— whoever that was— for bringing you out of your reverie. Up front, class resumes, Professor Trein talking about something indecipherable. “I added the right ingredients, Vil, I did... ”

A giggle makes you sit up straight. Oh. It’s Ruggie. “Ugh, shut up. I’m not giving you the answer.”

♡ You’re not even sure why the hyena hasn’t gotten the hint yet.  Struggle’s part of the hustle?

“Dang,” you feel him slouch just as you underline three unimportant words three times, lips cinched tight into your perpetual grimce. Your eyes are still hazy, mind squirming, but you manage. “You didn’t even hesitate. How’dja know for sure I was gonna ask for the answers? Kind of rude, y’know?”

Head lolling over your shoulders, you don’t spare him a single glance. “That’s all you do.”

“Wow," Ruggie Bucchi, perhaps even more of an opportunist than you - leans back against his chair, clicking his tongue when you point him out for the millionth time today. He’s always had a knack for trying to cop a look at your notes, or at seemingly whatever your hands were occupied with at the moment. In return, he gets nothing, but as established, the struggle is part of the hustle. “That hurts a little, y’know? I thought we had something special.”

Good grief... “No, we don’t. Please NEVER entertain that thought ever again.”

♡ You’re already packing your things up lest he grows a little too curious and  deftly snatches  them away from you. When the bell rings, you’re already rushing out the door, seamlessly weaving in with the quintessential crowd and letting bodies obscure you from view. 

♡ But unfortunately, a grab at your sleeve halts you in your advance. Ack!

“Wait!”

♡ Not Ruggie. Not Jade. Not Kalim...  huh? Oh, yeah. You get it now. 

♡ Yuu stares at you with tenfold the adoration they once had, lips warming into a bright smile, white showing when you shoot them a questioning glance. Encapsulating your hand fully, they lean forward for you to hear them over the hubbub and you barely make the effort to crane your ears. It’s a fact they can’t read the room. Do you blame them, though? Debatable. It’s inevitable after all that attention and validation. Though.. the way it feels like they were standing right outside your class gives you momentary chills. ( that spot’s taken and you can only handle so much.)

“Sorry,” their grip loosens. “I just— we didn’t get to talk much earlier. You left so early, and Jade..” Teeth nearly mauling their lip, they shrug away the thought. “Nevermind. That isn’t what I came here for!”

“..What did you come here for?”

“You.”

♡ The entire world hears you groan.

It seemed your dreams were٫ once again٫ switching stories. This time٫ instead of the ocean٫ the background was a vast desert in the middle of the night. Worst of all٫ it felt so terribly dry. A complete 180 compared to your last set of dreams.

Upon recollecting your thoughts٫ the silhouette of a man on horseback strode into the corner of your vision.

"You...are late٫" the man remarked٫ the sneer made obvious in his voice.

Right after٫ a shorter man appeared before the previous one. This one was dressed in what looked to be basically rags.

"A thousand apologies, O patient one. But I got it!" The man pleaded.

"Trust me, my pungent friend You'll get what's coming to you٫" the former promised.

Then٫ a trail of light suddenly appeared٫ grasping the the wealthier man's full attention. He ordered٫ "Quickly! Follow the trail! Faster!"

The light eventually led to a place in the sand that began to rise from its former place.

"At last, after all my years of searching...The Cave of Wonders."

With his words٫ a red parrot moved to perch on the man's shoulder and repeated٫ "Awk! Cave of Wonders!"

"Now, rememberbring me the lamp!" He ordered the street rat as he headed for the tiger-shaped cave.

Then٫ the cave began to speak٫ "Who disturbs my slumber?"

Finally٫ everything went black.

❥

In the morning٫ you dragged yourself out of bed and to the bedroom door٫ exhaustion still heavily clinging to you. You stumbled into the hall while trying to rub the remains of sleep from your eyes.

"Hey, ___. Why so bleary-eyed?" One of Ramshackle's resident ghosts asked.

"You look like you've seen a ghost. Heh heh heh٫" another chuckled.

"Today's the last day of the fall semester. Look sharp and don't bungle the landing٫" a third reminded.

"Oh yeah, tomorrow's the first day of the winter holiday. Have you two decided what you'll be doing?" The first ghost wondered.

"Huh? What's a win-ter holly-day?" Grim sounded out٫ dragging his little٫ tired body to your side.

"It's when school lets out for the season. Most students go home to celebrate the new year with their family. They have fancy dinners, too٫" the ghost explained.

"Wait, there's FOOD?!" The direbeast exclaimed.

"And plenty of it. Roast turkey, pie, a ham as big as your head, you name it...Not that us ghosts can eat, of course٫" the slimmer ghost added.

"Some ghosts head home to the netherworld to spend holidays with the family too, y know٫" the previous ghost went on.

"Yeah, and some of 'em never come back! Heh heh heh!" The chubbier ghost laughed.

"Spendin' time with the family while gettin' your grub on sounds nice..." Grim thought aloud.

It did sound nice...You couldn't help but think back to previous holiday breaks with your family. What was your family doing right now? It's been months since you disappeared. Were they even still looking for you? Had they lost hope? You missed them deeply...

"I wonder if the headmage's actually looking into a way for me to go home..." you sighed to yourself.

"If I know Crowley, he's totally forgotten about it by now٫" Grim commented٫ having overheard your wishful thinking.

His ears flattened after looking up to see your mournful expression٫ though. The little beast nudged your leg with his head until you picked him up. Then٫ he rubbed his furry face against your cheek in an attempt to cheer you up.

"Say, what's your family do, Grimmy?" One of the ghost questioned.

"My family? Hmm...I don't remember 'em. I remember wakin' up hungry and alone. It was real cold. I was waitin' out there for someone to come get me for ages. What happened after that again? It's all so foggy...But hey, I'm a forward-facin' kinda guy anyway! The future's way cooler than the past! Especially 'cause I'm gonna be a rich and powerful sorcerer! Gah ha ha!"

The ghost sniffled٫ "Awww, poor little Grimmy had it rough!"

"How'd you like to spend the holidays sitting around the fireplace with us?" Another suggested.

"Myah ha ha! If there's good food to be had, consider me ready for some holiday cheer!" Grim cheered.

❥

"Listen up, whelps٫" Professor Crewel announced٫ "Your holiday vacation starts tomorrow. I'm sure all of you are foaming at the mouth to get back home. But every year, there's always some foolish pup who forgets about his homework and spends the whole break goofing off. Just remember that I have a severe punishment in store for any such slackers out there. Are we clear?" The crack of his whip reverberated around the room. "You have permission to use the Dark Mirror to return home for the holidays. Report to your dorm mirror once you've packed your things!"

"Yes, Professor!"

"Ugh, finally! A break from this cramped dorm life!" Ace celebrated.

"Good grief. Night Raven College doesn't kid around with holiday homework. Look at all this٫" Deuce lamented٫ looking through the mountain of work in front of him.

"Speaking of going home, I guess you haven't found a way back yet, ___?" Ace pointed out as he began to flip through the worksheets himself. It almost seemed like he was trying to distract himself from his own question. Hopefully you were just thinking too much into it...

Before you could give an answer٫ Deuce asked you another question. "Will you two be spending the holidays in your dorm? Y'know٫ you can stay with me and my mom for break٫" Deuce offered٫ "I'm sure mom wouldn't mind. Actually٫ I'm pretty sure she'd love to meet you...O—Only if you want to٫ of course!"

Once again leaving no room for your reply٫ Ace quickly butted in. "You could also stay at my place for the holidays! I mean٫ My folks definitely wouldn't mind a new face to baby٫ especially now that my brother's moving out and all..."

"Thanks٫ but we kinda already have plans٫" you mentioned.

Grim gleefully replied for you٫ "Yup. We've made plans to have ourselves a feast with the ghosts!"

"Oh, right. There're plenty of ghosts on campus, so I guess it won't be just the two of you٫" the redhead noted.

"But when school lets out, don't the cafeteria and school store shut down too?" Deuce worried.

"Mrow! I didn't even think about that. Where'm I supposed to get the food for my feast?!"

"I'd really rather not go hungry over winter break٫" you groaned.

"Sounds like you'd better check in with the headmage soon٫" the former commented.

"You need Crowley's permission to use the Dark Mirror, so my guess is he's probably there right now. Let's find out٫" Ace declared.

❥

Walking into the Mirror Chamber٫ you were immediately overcome with the sheer amount of murmuring from excited students chattering. Everywhere you looked was packed full of students. You hadn't seen this place so full since the entrance ceremony.

"Wow, it's already packed with students going home٫" Deuce observed.

"Hah, they all look so antsy٫" Ace chuckled and started looking around٫ "Now then, where's that headmage?"

"All right, everyone. Announce your destination to the Dark Mirror and keep a tight hold on your belongings. If you let go for any reason while in transit, your luggage will get spirited away elsewhere. If you have any possessions you absolutely cannot afford to risk losing, send them by post from the school store.

It didn't take long to find him. Crowley was beside the Dark Mirror٫ instructing student traffic on what to do and what order to go through the mirror in. Hold on٫ what the hell is he wearing—?!

"He's in total party mode!"

It's snowing outside٫ and the damn bird look like he's headed to some luau after this! So٫ his ass gets to go to some tropical island while you have to freeze in that rundown٫ decrepit٫ old dorm house he gave you? Plus٫ shouldn't he being doing research to find a way to get you home٫ LIKE HE PROMISED YOU? Why does he look ready to relax by the shore while drinking damn piña coladas?!

"Wearing an aloha shirt in the middle of winter?! He's obviously ready to go on a tropical vacation!" Ace accused.

"He's not even trying to hide it٫" Deuce sighed٫ shaking his head.

"Hey, Headmage! We gotta talk!" Grim demanded.

"Why, hello. What brings your merry little band here?" Crowley wondered.

"Are you actually trying to find a way home for me?" You questioned in a huff.

"Ah...Ahhh! Ahhh, yes! Of course! A way home for you! Ha ha ha! Why, I'm expending every effort!" He nervously answered٫ most definitely pulling this straight from his ass. "In fact, I'll be spending the winter break expanding my investigation area to a tropical land I've never visited before. That's how deeply my diligent streak runs."

"You don't look dressed for an investigation to me٫" Ace muttered in exasperation.

"What he said! You look ready to go soak up the sun!"

"How could you suggest that? I've only clad myself in appropriate attire for my venture. When in a foreign land, do as the locals do. Escaping winter's frigid bite to kick back in a hammock and sip coconut juice while gazing at the tranquil ocean waves...I have NO such refined and indulgent vacation plans whatsoever, I assure you.

"What an incredibly specific denial..."

"It ain't fair for you to have all the fun! I wanna go on a tropical vacation too. Take us with you!" Grim complained.

You could've swore you saw the man grin at Grim's request before reschooling his expression.

"Well٫ I wouldn't mind all too terribly watching over to extra fledglings. Why٫ it could even be a good fa—Ahem!—...I mean٫ a good instructor/student bonding activity! So٫ how about it٫ ___?"

Crowley placed a clawed hand on your hair٫ but you pushed it away and shook your head.

"Thanks. But٫ no٫ thanks٫" you replied. Aside from the fact that you felt being dragged around by Crowley would be a nightmare٫ there was also a part of you that felt it was highly likely he might loose you like a negligent parent forgetting their kid at Walmart.

Crowley sighed٫ "Oh٫ well...If you'd truly prefer to stay on campus٫ then I have a critical job for you. It's so critical, the very survival of Night Raven College hinges upon it."

"The school's survival? Really?" You raised an eyebrow٫ not convinced.

"If it's so critical then how come you were practically just begging them to go on your little vacation with you٫" Ace pointed out with a deadpanned expression. Crowley ignored him.

"Ahem. The fires in our campus cafeteria and fireplaces are all furnished via fire fairy magic٫" the Headmage explained٫ "They've lived in the cafeteria fireplace for many years...But if we don't supply them with dry firewood every day, they will fade away. Should the fire fairies disappear, our whole campus would be gripped with cold every winter. You can see how the school's survival would be at stake."

"You know, I've wondered how the school stays so warm without central air٫" Deuce commented.

"So it was magic. Kinda obvious in hindsight٫" Ace added.

"Normally, our kitchen ghost takes over fire duty during extended school breaks..." Crowley went on٫ "But this year, his daughter had a baby, so he's visiting the netherworld to see his first grandchild. Thus, I would like you two to handle things in his absence. Should you take on this job, your holiday provisions will be provided in full. I'll even arrange for a holiday feast. Roast turkey, pie, a ham as big as your head...In fact, I'll throw in some piping hot spare ribs and mashed potatoes to sweeten-er, salt?—the deal. What do you say?"

"Mrah! Sounds like a one-way ticket to a food coma!" Grim pointed out in shock before grinning٫ "H-hmph. I guess I'll hear you out, at least."

"Dude, you are a born sucker٫" Ace groaned.

"Ghosts can have grandchildren?" You questioned.

"Look, it was a miracle of love, okay? Don't sweat the details."

"Oh٫ I'm sweating them..." You muttered below your breath.

Crowley continued٫ "More to the point, someone needs to handle fire duty if you want to stay warm over the holidays. Just by throwing firewood into the fireplace every day, you'll stay both warm AND well-fed. That is, as we say, two birds with one stone. Oh, what a generous deal!"

"Y'know, this does sound like kind of a gimme compared to the usual messes you dump in our laps٫" Grim thought aloud.

"Doesn't it, though? You would be surprised at just how kind I can be٫" Crowley prided٫ "Oh yes, and since I'll be out for a while, I'd like to give this to you."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone٫ handing it to you with a smile like he just solved your every problem.

"Ooh, a smartphone?" Ace wondered.

"You can use this to call me in the event of any emergency٫" explained the Headmage٫ "It is to be used ONLY for emergencies, mind you. Do try not to burn through its data cap browsing Magicam or the like. Now then, if you'll excuse me, I have many students to transport home to their families. I'll leave the rest in your capable hands. Ah, I'd better make certain to peruse some tourist pamphlets before I set out. Goodness gracious, I'm so very busy..."

And with that٫ Crowley headed back to the Dark Mirror's side٫ lost in his own world.

Grim cackled in delight٫ "Myah ha ha! Now I get to chow down on a fancy feast over the holidays!"

"I still get the feeling you just took a sucker's deal, but hey, whatever floats your boat٫" Ace hesitantly contributed.

"Hey, guys! You can stop standing in the middle of the hall and blocking traffic now! Oh٫ hey٫ ___!" Ruggie stopped just short of the four of you٫ dragging along a massive amount of luggage.

"Ruggie? Wait, what's with all that luggage?!" Deuce gawked with wide eyes. "A backpack, three duffel bags, and a giant cooler..."

"Oh, this? Shyeheehee. I took all the food that was about to hit its sell-by date at the cafeteria and the school store. Since we're about to go on break, they gave 'em to me basically for free."

"For real? There's no way you can eat all that٫" Ace pointed out.

"You'd be surprised. The neighborhood kids devour this stuff like, well...a pack of hyenas. Besides, gotta make sure my grandma eats well over the holidays. Speakin' of which," the hyena turned to you before going on٫ "you should come visit one day. I'm sure Gran and the kids would love to meet ya. Whelp٫ this frozen food ain't stayin' frozen for long. Gotta run! Smell ya next year!"

And٫ he was gone. Not without playfully nudging his shoulder against yours while passing you٫ though.

"There he goes...What was that about 'neighborhood kids,' though?" Deuce wondered.

Jack soon came over to you guys and started to answer his question٫ "Ruggie comes from a place where food is a bit scarce. So whenever school lets out for a long break, he stocks up on all the food he can get and shares it with the local kids."

Okay٫ that was actually pretty sweet of him. Also٫ quite unexpected from greedy hyena.

"What about you, Jack? What's with that planter you're hauling? You taking up gardening or something?" Ace asked.

The wolf replied٫ "It's a cactus I've been growin' in my free time. It'd wither up if I didn't keep it watered over break. A-anyway, enough about me!"

"Ruggie's sharin' his food with a bunch of kids who ain't even family, huh? Never knew he had it in him٫" Grim noted.

"Hyenas believe in sharing spoils equally٫" Jack explained٫ "I'm sure that's how Ruggie was raised."

"Hmph. The mere thought of a feeding frenzy like that gives me the willies. I can barely stand the noise one kid makes as it is٫" Leona huffed as he walked up behind Jack.

"Does that mean you're skipping out on visiting your family, Leona?" Jack wondered.

"Man, I wish. Nah, they'd give me no end of grief if I did. I'm goin'. Ugh, talk about a holiday chore٫" the lion groaned. You had half a mind to say a smartass comment٫ but you decided to hold your tongue.

"But you're not bringing anything?" The former observed.

"So? I got my wallet and smartphone. What else do I need? I've got clothes at home anyway."

"This's a whole different kind of extreme٫" Grim huffed٫ crossing his little arms. Stupid٫ rich people...

Ace sighed٫ "You're not even bringing your homework, are you?"

"Homework can wait until after break. Holidays are for resting٫" Leona stated٫ then put a hand on your head. "Later, herbivores." With that٫ he was off as well.

"He's good enough to do anything when he applies himself, so why doesn't he?" Jack grumbled to himself before turning back to the rest of you. "Well, I know I'll be getting mine done. You guys had better do the same. Later."

"Whatever you say, tryhard. See you next year, huh?" Ace called out as Jack headed for the Dark Mirror.

"Leona's commitment to his principles is actually impressive٫" you heard Deuce murmur.

"Okay, froshes! Don't let those bad boy upperclassmen give you any bad ideas, you hear?" You felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind as the cheerful voice began to ring in your ear.

"In our dorm, if you don't turn in your homework, Riddle makes sure it's off with your head٫" another reminded.

"Hey, Trey. Hey, Cater٫" Ace greeted٫ a slight tinge of irritation present as he tried to tug you away from Cater's hold٫ but managed barely any success.

"Ugh. Going home is kind of a drag for me, too٫" Cater sighed٫ nuzzling his face in your hair like you were some sort of emotional support animal. "I just know my sisters are both coming home. They don't care if it's the holidays—they'll run me ragged anyway. You should totes come along٫ Cutie. I just know they'd love you٫ and maybe leave me alone for a bit..."

"No٫ thanks. Me and Grim already have plans..." you declined.

"Aw٫ boo٫" the redhead pouted٫ "Well٫ I wish I could stay over at your house instead,

Trey!"

"You'd be welcome to, but we'd be running you just as ragged. Winter is the patisserie's busiest time of the year٫" Trey pointed out with slight amusement.

"Oh yeah, your family runs one of those, huh? So much for any escape٫" Cater lamented٫ once again burying his face in your hair.

You noticed Deuce go still before letting out a yelp٫ "Erk! Housewarden Rosehearts!

Sorry for blocking the way!"

"Hm? Oh, it's you boys. If you're going to stand around and congregate, at least stay near a wall. Oh٫ hello٫ ___. Cater٫ do you might not smothering them?"

"Sorry٫ Housewarden~."

"Huh, he's soundin' kinda defeated٫" Grim murmured.

"Oh, right. The housewarden's got an extreme case of helicopter parenting waiting for him at home. No wonder he's not enthused about heading back٫" Ace whispered in return.

"Riddle, I'm not allowed in your house, so I won't be able to bring by any cakes..." Trey began٫ "But you're always welcome to visit me at the store. I'm sure Chenya will drop by to hang out, too."

"Yes, you're right. I think...l'm going to try talking with Mother some٫" Riddle replied٫ "I don't know if she'll listen, but even so."

"...All right. Good luck٫" his vice wished.

"What'sa matter, Goldfishie? Don't wanna go home? Then here's an idea: don't. We're not. C'mon, you can join us in the stay-at-school club. Heh heh!"

And just like that٫ you felt your soul leave your body. You didn't even need to look at Riddle to know he felt the same.

"Where did you come from, Floyd? And would you kindly refrain from sticking your nose in business you know nothing about?

It's quite irksome."

"He's right, you know. It's never a good idea to blindly pry into others' family affairs٫" Jade agreed٫ catching up to his twin.

"Aw, c'mon, Jade. It's boring spending every new year with the same old suspects٫" Floyd whined٫ "Besides, Goldfishie's so teeny, I'm sure Azul would love to keep him as a pet!"

Okay٫ you actually had to suppress a small chuckle at that one...

"I'm sorry? Would you like to say that again? You're awfully brazen to take that tone with the head of Heartslabyul. And speaking of heads, I'll have yours for this!"

"R-Riddle, no! This is NOT the place, my guy!" Cater panicked٫ trying to calm Riddle down٫ and subsequently letting you go.

"Settle down, Riddle. You're letting him goad you again٫" Trey soothed.

While they calmed Riddle down٫ you felt yourself getting pulled in another direction.

"Now٫ that's just not true٫ Floyd٫" Jade corrected٫ both of his hands grasping your upper arms٫ "I feel we've found quite the interesting new suspect~."

"Sooo, Floyd and Jade! Your family's in the Coral Sea, right? Why aren't you visiting them?" Cater asked٫ trying to redirect the conversation.

"We and Azul live in the far northern reaches of the Coral Sea. At this time of year, the whole surface is covered in ice floes٫" Jade explained.

"What he said! It's hard gettin' home with all the freezy-freeze, and it's boring there anyway٫" Floyd whined٫ "So the three of us prefer to go home on spring break instead, when the ice has melted."

"Wow. Living under the sea has all kinds of challenges, huh?" Trey thought aloud.

"Hmph! The last thing I need is to spend the new year with you Octavinelle boys٫" Riddle huffed٫ protectively pulling you away from the Tweels٫ "I'll be going now. I bid you all a pleasant holiday." He looked to just you. "And good luck staying away from them..."

"Good grief. Well, at least he's got his moxie back٫" Trey offered with a shrug٫ "As for you guys, don't cut TOO loose over the holidays, okay? See you around."

"I should be getting home, too...Ah, but first, a commemorative photo!" Cater pulled you into the photo by the waist٫ making a kissy face towards you for the picture. "Hashtag #FallSemesterLastDay #WithTheFroshes

#HappyNewYear #JumpingTheGunLOLOkay, bye now! Happy holidays, folks!"

"So, little Shrimpy. If you and the Seal stayin' on campus٫ you should definitely drop by Octavinelle, y'know. We'd be happy to keep you company٫" Floyd offered.

"A fine idea, brother٫" Jade commended٫ "Ah, what a delightful holiday this is shaping up to be. You're welcome anytime. Now then, if you'll excuse us..."

You watched as the two left the Mirror Chamber while eerily chuckling together. You didn't like that at all...

"Erk...Just lookin' at their faces makes me think back to when they were workin' me like a dog in the Mostro Lounge٫" Grim whined.

"Yeah, that was brutal stuff٫" Deuce sighed in agreement.

Ace scoffed٫ "Don't remind me."

"Well, the crowds are thinning out. We should probably head out, ourselves٫" Deuce observed.

"Good call. Oh yeah, ___..." Ace remembered٫ "We should trade Magicam IDs now that you've got a smartphone. Y'know, in case something comes up."

"Oh, good idea. I'll share mine, too٫" Deuce added.

"There we go. Registered. Feel free to hit me up if you get bored over winter break!" Ace mischievously grinned.

"I'll think about it٫" you mused.

"Feel free to reach out if you need anything at all٫" Deuce reassured٫ "My mom's probably waiting on me, so l'd better go.

___, Grim, happy holidays."

"Yeah, I'll do the same. ___, Grim, see you next year!"

You and Grim watched as the two hurried off.

"I've always thought of those guys as a couple of loudmouths, but now that they're gone..." Grim admitted٫ "It's clear as crystal just HOW loud they've been! Buncha meddling so-and-sos..." So٫ the grumpy٫ little thing continued to grumble the whole way back to Ramshackle.

❥

The morning after everyone left٫ you and Grim walked out of Ramshackle. You both were about to make your way to the cafeteria to do the job Crowley assigned when you found a thick sheet of snow covering the ground.

"Ooh, check it out, ___! We got a whole blanket of snow out here!"

"No wonder it seemed chilly٫" you noted٫ "We'd better check on the fireplace."

"Yeah, maybe the fire fairies are feelin' the chill, too. Better bring 'em some firewood. Ooh, and I can check out the kitchen an' see if they got any leftovers while I'm there! La-la-laaa!"

After only a few steps on the cold ground٫ the baby made you pick him up to carry him the rest of the way. It was honestly the most peaceful you've felt walking around since arriving here. Well٫ besides for Grim rustling around inside your coat for a comfortable position.

Once you both made it to the cafeteria٫ Grim climbed out onto a nearby table and shook himself to refluff his fur.

"Geez, it was cold out there! My paws feel like icicles!"

"How? You barely touched the ground for a second before demanding to be carried."

"That's besides the point! Now٫ hurry up and get that firewood in the fireplace."

You let out an amused snort at his antics as you made your way over to the firewood. You tossed some into the fireplace before getting distracted by the sight of the small fire fairies coming out to use the wood٫ causing it to crackle as they did so.

"Ahhh... You guys must be the fire fairies. I'm feelin' warm and fuzzy just being near you٫" Grim purred.

Soon٫ another sound began to overpower the fire fairies' crackling. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

"Hm? What's that I hear over the crackling fire? Chopping? And...sizzling meat?! And now my nose is tinglin' with the spicy aroma of foreign cuisine! It's coming from the kitchen. Let's see what's up, ___!"

Now٫ how the hell was he able to discern that...You weren't given very long to think on it before having to chase after the gluttonous pit personified.

Peaking through the kitchen door٫ you noticed a bunch of left behind students cooking together. They must've all been from the same dorm since their outfits all followed the same design. In the center of the room was a student instructing them on each step of the preparation process.

You were pretty sure you remember the boy from the Spelldrive incident from a while back. Jamil٫ was it? Not only that٫ but he was often around Kalim or talked about by him. You knew that because since the Spelldrive incident٫ you often found Kalim around you. He seemed to have a habit of finding you whenever you finally managed to get alone time. Kalim was definitely sweeter than most boys here٫ but he was way too overbearing. So much so٫ that at some point٫ you started hiding whenever you heard his voice.

"Once you're done cooking the vegetables, boil the thawed meat. Don't forget to add the nuts once the oil is heated٫" Jamil reminded.

"Yes, sir!"

"Vice Housewarden, will one tablespoon of spices be enough?"

"The housewarden's palate veers spicy. Add another teaspoon٫" the vice advised.

"What's goin' on in here? It's winter break, but the kitchen's full of students!" Grim wondered٫ openly wandering in without an invitation.

"Hm? You're..." Jamil trailed off.

"Hello there. Nice to meet you٫ again٫" you greeted٫ scooping Grim up in you arms. Knowing him٫ the little beast might try eating everything in sight if he got hungry enough.

"Ah٫ yes. You're Kalim's friend. Your names were ___ and Grim, yes?"

Grim puffed up in pride٫ "Dang, you got a good memory, uhhh...What was your name again?"

"Jamil٫ right?" You asked٫ hoping to have gotten it right.

The boy seemed a bit surprised that you remembered٫ a brief smile gracing his lips.

"Correct. Jamil Viper, vice housewarden of Scarabia Dorm. I make it a point to memorize people's names and faces. Not to mention, you two have made quite the names for yourselves since you first enrolled. You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone at this school who doesn't know who you are."

"Whoa...Really? Myah hah hah! Y'hear that, ___?! We're famous!" Grim cheered.

"At any rate...Why are you here on campus when it's winter break?"

"We ain't got anywhere to go home to for the holidays٫" the direbeast replied٫ "Not to mention, the headmage personally gave us a super-special job. We're tendin' the fireplace. I'm as diligent and competent as they come! Only makes sense that the headmage would turn to me when he needs help!"

You didn't have the heart to break it to Grim that Crowley was only hyping the job up so that he'd want to do it.

"Oh, is that a fact? The headmage personally asked you, you say..." Jamil repeated before muttering٫ "This could be my chance..."

"Hm? Didn't catch that٫" Grim deadpanned.

"I said that if the headmage is relying on you, you must be a tremendous talent indeed٫" he repeated٫ but you could tell that it was absolutely not the same thing. What was this guy planning...

"Sorry to interrupt, Vice Housewarden, but I'm done prepping the vegetables."

"Okay, I'll be right over."

"That soup you're makin' looks pretty good. I ain't ever smelled anything like it before٫" Grim praised.

"It's a traditional Scalding Sands recipe, you see—Wait. An idea occurs to me. I'm sure something brought us together. Would you care to join us for our meal?"

You've been betrayed by offers of food too many times. Sadly٫ you could no longer trust it.

"I don't kno—"

"Really?! You mean it?"

"Absolutely. It won't take much longer to finish. Why don't you two lend a hand?"

You never agreed to this. However٫ now٫ you were somehow being forced to help cook. At least you could see what was going into the food this way...

"Man, these spices smell amazing!" Grim admired٫ his mouth practically watering.

"They're used in traditional Scalding Sands cuisine. It makes for a unique flavor٫" Jamil clarified٫ "I'll teach you how to use them, so watch closely."

"You got it!"

"I thank you for your help."

He probably shouldn't thank the two of you just yet. Your assigned job was basically your usual activity: Watching to make sure Grim didn't cause chaos. It mainly consisted of any one person job becoming a two person job. For the most part٫ you were babysitting the contents of one of the pots٫ stirring it every so often.

"Is it okay if I put this brown powder in the pot now?" Grim impatiently asked.

"Not yet. You put in garam masala at the very end or it spoils the fragrance٫" Jamil skillfully answered.

"Wow! You sure know your way around a spice rack٫" your dormmate applauded.

"I cook on a daily basis, so it's only natural٫" the second year casually replied٫ "We're almost done here. Let's put on the finishing touches."

And soon enough٫ the cooking was finally over. You watched Grim as he did a little celebration dance at his work.

"Woohoo! It's done! Mmm, yeah, those spices are seriously drool-inducing.

"Good work. I couldn't have done it without your help. Thank you٫" Jamil smiled as he and the others started packing up the food. "We'll eat in the dorm. Come with me."

"Mya ha! You bet we're comin'! I can't wait to dig in. I'm starvin'!" Your furry black hole cheered.

"That should do it. All right, boys, get this to the dorm!" The vice housewarden announced.

"Yes, sir!"

"So, why're you guys stayin' on campus over winter break?" Grim wondered.

"Well..." Jamil trailed off again٫ while other Scarabia members remained silent. "It's a bit of a long story."

"In that case, forget we asked٫" you stated with a forced polite smile. You were not going through another dorm's issues and play therapist.

"It was the housewarden's orders. Everybody in Scarabia has to stay..." One student mumbled.

"We can't go home even if we want to٫" another followed.

"Shhh. Don't go into it. We brought this on ourselves as it is٫" Jamil reprimanded٫ "Now, let's get this food back to the dorm before it gets cold. Scarabia's got the warmth of summer year-round.

I think you'll enjoy a taste of the tropics there."

"Woo-hoo! Now that's what I call paradise!C'mon, ___!" Grim exclaimed.

"Whoa, Grim, slow down!" You yelped.

Mentally٫ you were screaming. You've long learned now that nothing on this campus comes without a catch. Why did the universe hate you? This was not your circus٫ and definitely not your monkeys; so٫ why do you keep getting thrown into situations that involve you?!

"I'm sure the housewarden will be delighted to have you as visitors٫" Jamil reaffirmed٫ "Would you care to come over?"

All of a sudden٫ his voice felt incredibly soothing. Now٫ for some strange reason٫ you were compelled to go along with his every word.

"I'd be happy to!" You gleefully grinned.

"What a pleasure it is to know you'll be coming to see us, ___," the boy praised. He placed a hand on the small of your back and began leading you forward. "Now then, Scarabia awaits."

❥

After arriving at Scarabia's dorm realm٫ it took you a good minute to just take everything in. From the decorations to the architecture٫ it was all just so...so breathtaking!

"So this is Scarabia Dorm. It really is sweltering like it's summer over here!" Grim complained.

"I'm sure it's a welcome reprieve from the cold. Come, this way٫" Jamil led٫ still leading you forward by the small of your back. It almost felt like he felt you'd change your mind any minute now and flee.

Inside٫ the dorm building was even more gorgeous. You probably looked like a lost puppy as you tried admiring everything. Then٫ the sound of clapping ripped you from your daydreams.

"Boys, we have guests! Play some music to make them feel at home٫" ordered the vice housewarden.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the attention. This was so embarrassing...

"You really don't hav—"

"Myah hah hah! When you get as famous as us, l guess people fall all over themselves to get in your good graces٫" Grim boasted٫ cutting you off٫ again.

"Please, go on. Eat up while it's hot٫" Jamil urged Grim٫ but placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place for some reason.

"Don't mind if I do! Awmph! Mmm, this's good stuff! It's got a rich flavor, with a powerful kick of heat...This veggie stir-fry with crunchy nuts is great. Oh, and so are these fried dough ball things!"

"We have meat dishes and soup as well. Please, help yourself; there's more where that came from٫" Jamil added.

"Nom...Nom nom...Y'know, with a veritable buffet like this in front of us, this really IS paradise!"

"What is all this commotion?"

Suddenly٫ the air went still.

"H-Housewarden!"

"Ah. Kalim٫" Jamil commented.

"What's going on, Jamil? Nobody told me to expect company!" Kalim huffed.

"Kalim, there's a good reason for this, I assure you٫" his vice reassured.

"Uh, this guy seems like bad news..." Grim muttered٫ having just scuttered back to your side.

You were mainly confused. Why was everyone so afraid of Kalim? They were talking about how he's been strict lately٫ but still. You were just so used to him acting all cheerful and bubbly.

"How many times must I tell you to always inform me ahead of time when inviting guests?! If you had...I would have arranged for an even finer banquet and a whole band!" Kalim whined.

"Huh?" Grim questioned.

"___!" The housewarden exclaimed٫ throwing his arms around you in an embrace. "Welcome to our dorm. Sorry for not throwing you a welcoming parade! You should've told me you were coming! Wait٫ are you staying over for the holidays٫ too? We could have one long sleepover together!"

"Calm down٫ Kalim. You'll smother them٫" Jamil scolded.

It took until Jamil had to physically separate the two of you for Kalim to finally calm down. Still٫ he looked to be noticeably buzzing with excitement that you were over at his dorm. He did eventually notice the food prepared now that he was forcibly detached.

"All the food looks incredible, as always. How did everything turn out, Jamil?"

"Splendidly as ever. There are no dangerous substances in any of these dishes, so eat whatever you like. They've also been poison-tested already."

"Wh-why is THAT relevant?!" Grim nearly shrieked.

"Kalim is the heir to a very wealthy family. The unfortunate dangers related to that mean that everything he eats must be vetted٫" Jamil clarified.

"You just love blowing these things out of proportion, Jamil. Really, who would do that? Nobody's tried poisoning me since that time four years ago when I went comatose for two weeks. It's a thing of the past now٫" Kalim brushed off.

"Yes, because you've had someone to specifically prevent that from happening for the past four years. I ensure that anything hazardous is identified and disposed of before it crosses your plate٫" Jamil reminded.

Hold on٫ what?! Oh٫ hell no! And didn't he just finish feeding that food to Grim? Absolutely not. As soon as you find an opening٫ you both are getting out of here!

"Wait a minute. When you were feedin' me all those different dishes, was that to test 'em for poison?!"

Kalim laughed٫ "Aha ha ha! There's no real danger for you, don't worry. All the food Jamil makes is safe. Jamil would never poison my food."

"Heh. Must you state the obvious?"

"Y'know, I'm startin' to think these guys were only pretendin' to be nice٫" Grim muttered٫ dazed from confusion.

"Ooh, Grim! Have you tried the goat's milk blue cheese yet? Nothing beats a smear of it on a cracker!"

"Huh? Why would I eat somethin' with mold all over—Mmph!" Grim began to sputter٫ "Don't go shovin' food in my—mmph!"

"Oh, good, you like it! By all means, have some more! Aha ha!"

"Mmmph! Awmmph!"

You could only watch out of fear that Kalim might start trying to feed you next.

"Bring out more food and drinks. And kick the music up a notch or three! Today, we party!" Kalim announced٫ cheerfully clinging onto your arm like he was trying not to lose you.

❥

"I can't eat another bite...Urgh...My tummy's gonna burst٫" Grim groaned٫ "Where does that Kalim guy get off, crammin' crackers with moldy cheese in my mouth? I make it a personal policy to eat any food I get, but that was just too much!"

Much to Grim's dismay٫ Kalim was back without a moment to spare. He kneeled before where you and Grim sat on the ground like a lovesick puppy and leaned closer.

"Hey, ___! Grim! Care for dessert? We've got ice cream. Or would you prefer a selection of fruits? We've also got baked sweets with pistachios and almonds. I could have Jamil bring you some."

"Mrah! N-nope, I'm square! Can't eat another bite!" Grim yelped.

"Aww. They're all so good, I would've loved to share some with you٫" Kalim lamented٫ his head drooping like a kicked puppy before quickly perking back up. "Oh well. We'll be here over the whole winter break. You're welcome to drop by for a meal whenever you like. Right, Jamil?"

"Absolutely. Anytime."

Now that everyone seemed to be in high spirits٫ you thought now would be a good time to ask your question from earlier.

"Why aren't you going home?"

Kalim hummed in response٫ "Hm? Oh...Well, you know how we recently had that Spelldrive tournament, followed by our exams? Well, our dorm placed at the bottom in both."

You noticed Jamil silently mourning from the corner of your vision as Kalim drabbled on.

"So I decided to do something about it. Our whole dorm is doing voluntary special training."

"I woulda taken last place over what Ramshackle Dorm got in the Spelldrive tournament brackets: a fat lotta nothin'٫" Grim complained.

"Oh, right. Yes, that's a real shame٫" Kalim sympathetically offered.

"On our winter break, we'll be spending six hours a day on studies and practical magic training٫" Jamil detailed.

"Six hours a day? That ain't any different from regular school hours!" Grim gaped٫ "'Holidays are for resting. Homework can wait until after break.' That's what Leona says."

"Yes, I'm sure he does٫" Jamil remarked٫ getting a small snicker out of you.

"Hmmm. When you put it that way, you do have a point٫" Kalim debated٫ "My dad DID always drill the whole 'work hard, play hard, and know when to do which' thing into my head. Maybe Leona's right٫ and we should focus more on striking the right balance between the two. All right! I've decided, Jamil. We should take our breaks when we can get them. I'll let our students go home tomorrow."

Jamil gawked٫ "What?!"

"I'll tell them over dinner tonight٫" Kalim decided٫ "Do me a favor and make sure everybody shows up, okay?"

"R-right. Of course."

What do you know? Another dorm's issues solved and you barely had to do anything this time.

"Say, ___, I should give you two the grand Scarabia tour. I'd love to show you a few things."

And Kalim was cuddled right back up to you again. Was this how it felt to have a parasite? Not even Ace and Deuce were this clingy...

"Kalim, please! You'll be setting a bad example if you task the students with studying and then goof off yourself٫" Jamil chastised.

"But it's not every day we get guests٫ and special ones٫ too. Surely one day of slacking can't hurt٫" the housewarden pleaded.

"...Kalim٫" he warned.

"Erk...Okay, fine. Don't get mad. I'll do some defense magic training, then. A mock battle would make for a nice after-meal workout. Hey, could someone fight me?!"

"Yes٫ Housewarden!"

You watched as the dorm students started training with each other. The way each spell cast flew through the air was honestly quite fascinating. A little bit in٫ Grim excitedly jumped up to join. The way he got visibly excited anytime he was successful was absolutely adorable to you.

"Okay, training done! Now let's be off!" Kalim announced٫ joyfully tugging at your hand like an impatient child.

"Wait, you've got other work to—٫" Jamil sighed.

❥

"Maaan, this place is FAN-CY! Nothin' at all like Ramshackle Dorm٫" Grim praised٫ marveling at everything as you walked.

"Is it really that impressive to you?" Kalim wondered٫ his arm hooked around yours. "I know that back when I enrolled, Dad said he donated a bit to the school to give the place a fresh coat of paint, but..."

"Geez, how rich are you?! Are you some kinda prince like Leona?" The furball gawked.

"The Asims aren't royalty, and I'm not a prince. I've got some relatives in the royal family, though٫" he explained.

"Wait, Asim? I thought your name was Al-Asim٫" Grim mentioned.

"'Al' means 'son' in the ancient language of the Land of the Scalding Sands٫" Kalim broke down٫ "So we name families after the founders that start them...And all the men of that line refer to themselves as the founder's son. In my case, Asim is our honored founder's name, and 'Al' means son...So Kalim Al-Asim means Kalim, Son of House Asim."

"Huh. I never thought much about where names come from. Fascinatin'٫" Grim noted.

"I hope that wasn't too in-depth for you?Anyway, feel free to just call me Kalim."

"This place really is a melting pot of students from all over. This all sounds fascinating٫" you thought aloud to yourself.

"You should pay the Land of the Scalding Sands a visit sometime! I'd be happy to have you as a guest٫" Kalim exclaimed٫ now excitedly holding onto with both of his at the prospect.

"I bet you live in some kinda fancy mansion that's halfway to bein' a castle٫" Grim fantasized.

"Oh, hardly. We only have around a hundred helpers."

"'Only'? In what world does that deserve 'only'?! I've only got one hench-human, myself..."

"Well, we're a big family. We need at least that many people to look after them all."

"Sorry you have THAT many siblings?!"

"Yeah, so many I quit counting. I do remember all of their names and faces, though. Aha ha!"

Absolutely not...You kept quiet during their back and forth٫ unwilling to show any interest in joining such a lifestyle. That many kids over your dead body...

"You guys do everything on a whole other level..."

"Jamil's mom and dad are among our servants. So Jamil's always around and looked after me ever since he was a young boy. And he is seriously amazing, believe me. He's smart, thoughtful, and most of all, he's a great cook!"

"The proof of that last one's in the puddin', for sure٫" Grim commended.

"You see? You should stay over for dinner tonight! Come on!" Kalim begged٫ tugging on your arm and making puppy dog eyes at the both of you.

"Uh, sure..." Grim hesitantly answered before muttering٫ "Yeesh, talkin' with this guy throws me off."

You didn't get to reply to Grim's comment before getting dragged further along again by Kalim.

"Come on, this way٫" he sang٫ leading you both into some random room.

Upon entering٫ you were immediately taken aback. The room had nothing but piles of gold and what looked to be priceless treasures. And it was all just sitting here?! Ruggie would have a field day if he found this place...

"Sweet mother of loot! What IS this place?It's got piles of treasure taller than l am!" Grim shouted.

"This is all stuff Dad sent with me when I departed for school٫" Kalim casually answered٫ "I couldn't possibly fit it in my dorm room, so it's all kept here in the storeroom."

"This ain't a storeroom! This's a whole treasury!"

"Ooh, you know some big words, Grim. Very impressive!" Kalim praised٫ "My favorite out of all these treasures is, of course...Huh. Where'd it go? Sometimes it moves around on its own. Hey, where are you?"

"Wooow...Huge gemstones just scattered on the floor, shiny golden goblets..." Grim observed٫ "With this much stuff, surely no one would notice if one little thing went missing...Myeh heh heh..."

You just turned around to stop Grim when you noticed something behind him poke his fluffy little shoulder.

"___٫ I'm kinda busy!"

It poked him again.

"Yeesh, whaddaya want? I'm tryin' to—GYAAAH! Th-the carpet's movin' all on its own! It's been possessed by a ghost!"

"Ah, there you are! Go back over and curl up in your usual spot, would you?" Kalim calmly requested٫ and the carpet nodded. However٫ it moved towards you instead٫ seemingly inspecting you like a curious animal.

"What in the world is this?!" Grim yelled in bewilderment.

"This is a legendary treasure from Scalding Sands lore—a magic carpet!" The housewarden introduced٫ causing what seemed to be an ego boost in the carpet. "The sultan that the Sorcerer of the Sands served used to love his flying carpet. This one's a replica of it. It's been in our family for generations."

The carpet seemed to nod in agreement.

"You mean that carpet flies around like a broom?" Grim wondered.

"More or less. That's probably the easiest way to put it. It's getting dark, so why don't we go out for an evening ride in style? Come along, all aboard!"

Kalim took hold of your hands and pulled you onto the carpet with him. Grim quickly followed to sit with you.

"Really? Are you sure I won't fall off that thing?

"It's totally safe! Trust me٫" Kalim reassured. He took a tight hold of you before declaring٫ "And away we go!"

You quickly understood why Kalim had held on to you. As soon as the carpet took off٫ it immediately began soaring at what felt like top speeds and didn't slow down until making it above the clouds. You think you felt your soul temporarily leave your body. You also lost majority of the feeling in your knuckles from holding on so tightly to Kalim.

"Aaaah! We're really flyin'! This is crazy high up!" Grim yelped٫ "Look how teeny the dorm looks from up here."

"How do you like the world above the clouds?" Kalim asked٫ putting his hand over yours in attempt to calm you down.

You were feeling mainly better now that the carpet slowed down. Looking around٫ you found yourself nearly at a loss for words. The sight was just so painstakingly beautiful.

"It's like a whole new world, or something٫" you muttered in awe.

Kalim laughed٫ "Aha ha! That good, huh?"

"This totally rules!" Grim cheered.

"There's nothing quite like soaring through the sky. It shows you how little all your troubles really matter in the grand scheme of things. Of course, Jamil always says I don't worry enough about things as it is...It wouldn't hurt him to take life a little easier."

"Mrow! Check out that river over there! I ain't never seen a bird like that before!"

"Ooh, good eye. Let's go take a closer look!"

❥

After a while longer٫ the impromptu carpet ride came to a close. Not that it wasn't fun٫ it just felt like the carpet was trying to make you panic every so often. Every time it did٫ you'd subconsciously tighten you grip on Kalim. If you were gonna go down٫ you were taking someone with you.

"Man, that was a BLAST!" Grim joyfully sang.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Goodness, though—it's already dinnertime٫" Kalim noticed٫ and was still holding onto you for some reason.

"Kalim! You're finally back. I'd like to review something before dinner. Could you join me for a moment?" Jamil interrupted.

Kalim looked at you longingly for a moment before agreeing٫ "Sure thing. ___, you and Grim can just make yourselves comfortable in the lounge."

❥

"I'm famished. What's for dinner tonight?" You heard one of the Scarabia students ask.

"Our special training today was rough, huh?" Another student commented.

"Ramshackle Dorm gets a cold breeze blowin' in through cracks in the walls. Compared to that, this place is paradise. And Kalim's a real pal. I oughta join Scarabia!" Grim commented٫ relaxing like he pays the bills.

Soon٫ Kalim and Jamil finally arrived to meet with the rest of the dorm. For some reason٫ something felt off to you٫ but you couldn't figure out why.

"Is everyone present? The housewarden has an announcement for you before we eat٫" Jamil stated.

"He does?" One guy wondered.

"Oh yeah, Kalim was talkin' about that٫" Grim remembered٫ "He's callin' off the special training and lettin' Scarabia have their winter break. I bet the students will be overjoyed. Too bad I can't keep feasting here over the holidays, though!"

"...I decreed that the students of Scarabia would stay in the dorm over winter break for a voluntary six hours of daily studying, if you recall. But l've realized something. That's nowhere NEAR enough!"

"Huh?!"

"Kalim? I thought you were going to send the students home٫" Jamil reminded.

"That's practically the complete opposite of what you said before!" Grim shouted.

"A mere six hours a day won't be anywhere near enough to close the gap between our dorm and the others. We must work twice—no, FIVE times as hard as the others to drag ourselves out from dead last in grades! Starting tomorrow, I'm tasking all of you with five hours of study time and four hours of practical training each day."

"You're giving 'em NINE HOURS of training a day?!" Grim questioned.

"There will be a defense magic training drill after dinner. Eat up and ready yourselves!"

"Y-yes, sir!"

At this rate٫ you were starting to believe you died from that carriage and this is hell.

"___, Grim—since you two are visiting, your participation is mandatory! Is that clear?!"

"Whaaa?! Why do we hafta join in?" Grim yowled.

"Now٫ how the hell do you expect me to do that?" You deadpanned. You had no magic٫ so how the hell were you supposed to practice it."

Jamil walked over and placed a hand on Kalim's shoulder. "They do have a point. You should probably let ___ sit this one out."

Kalim thought for a few seconds٫ his face even starting to scrunch up٫ before finally relenting٫ "Oh٫ alright."

❥

"That will be all for today. Tomorrow morning, we march to the eastern oasis, where I will put you through your paces!"

A lankier Scarabia student was noticeably panting٫ "My arms and legs feel like noodles..."

"Water...Need water..." Another gasped.

"And we have another day of melting in the desert heat ahead of us tomorrow. Uuugh٫" a third groaned.

"What's come over the housewarden? He never used to be like this٫" the first one wondered.

Grim waddled over to you٫ panting as if he just ran a marathon٫ "Finally, it's over. He was all smiles and sunshine before.

What's the deal with the sudden one-eighty?"

You picked the poor thing up٫ subconsciously bouncing him like a fussy baby.

"I imagine when we placed last in the Spelldrive interdorms, and then Scarabia collectively scored at the bottom of exams...He must have felt personally responsible٫" Jamil surmised٫ "He's had terrible mood swings ever since."

"That ain't a mood swing٫" Grim huffed٫ "It's like he's a totally different person!"

"I've known him a long time, but that volatile temper has left me stumped as to how to approach him. He'll say one thing, then do something else the next minute. The way he goes on these power trips without warning is out of control. The whole dorm used to look up to our housewarden, but this odd behavior has us all scratching our heads. He's been making unreasonable demands, as you just saw...I fear it's only a matter of time before the students reach the end of their rope. I've done what I can to smooth things over, but this has gone beyond my ability to handle alone."

"Yeesh. Between you and Trey over in Heartslabyul, you vice housewardens have it rough٫" Grim remarked.

"Ah! Of course. You two are diamonds in the rough!"

"Excuse me...?"

"Huh? What're you talkin' about?"

What did he just say? Did he know something? Even if he did٫ you are not doing shit! They can deal with their own problems!

"Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, and even Octavinelle...Rumor has it that you two are outstanding students who have solved problems with multiple other dorms٫" Jamil reminisced.

Grim puffed out his little chest and chuckled٫ "Heh heh, we sure have. Be grateful, peons, for the omnipotent sorcerer Grim walks among you!"

"I bow before you, sir. Please, I must ask: could you find it in your heart to help Scarabia as well?"

"Uhhh..."

Okay٫ yeah٫ he was definitely trying to butter you both up. What was his deal? And what the hell was going on here? Whatever it was٫ you wanted no part in it.

"Our chance encounter in the cafeteria must have been guided by the hand of fate. Surely you two can find us a solution using your sparkling intellect!"

"Yeaaah, I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you٫" Grim commented٫ "Sure I'm a big deal, but that ain't got nothin' to do with what we're talkin' about!"

After٫ Grim leaned in closer and whispered in your ear٫ "Hey, ___. Let's pass on this and keep our noses outta other dorms' business. I've still got a headache from the LAST time we meddled."

You were just about to agree when Jamil interrupted٫ placing a hand on your upper arm and looking deep into your eyes.

"You...will aid us, won't you?"

All of a sudden٫ you felt compelled to agree with whatever he said. It felt as if his voice were leading you into a pleasant daze. Soon٫ words left your mouth before you even realized you thought them.

"Of course I will٫" you smiled.

"MYAH! Are you serious?! You're agreein', just like that?!"

"You will? Oh, thank you, ___. With that matter settled, why don't you stay in Scarabia as our guests of honor?"

Jamil clapped٫ summoning the other Scarabia members.

"You called, Vice Housewarden?"

"Show our guests to their quarters."

"Yes, sir!"

❥

"Have a pleasant evening."

SLAM!

Oh٫ what the fuck...

"Maaaan, I TOLD you not to fall for Jamil's ploy!" Grim fussed٫ "You know this is gonna be a whole debacle, ___. Why'd you have to sign us both up for it?! This is Scarabia's problem. They can take care of their own business.

"I meant to say no, actually..." you admitted٫ "But I found myself agreeing before I could think better of it..."

"Sheesh. You can't say no to anything! You're a real sap sometimes, you know that? Is it some type 'a darling thing? Then again, when you bare your teeth it's no joke... Anyway, I've had enough of gettin' dragged into shenanigans. Let's give 'em the slip while we can and head back to Ramshackle Dorm!"

You let Grim take charge of your escape attempt٫ following after him as you both crept into the hallway.

"Okay, first we gotta get to the mirror connected to the school..."

FWEEET!

"Wh-wha?! What's that noise?!"

Soon٫ the pattering of footsteps filled the halls. You swear you fell the blood drain from your face.

"Hey! You think you can just leave the dorm?!"

"It's not even our dorm!" You shrieked in a panic.

"For the duration of winter break, nobody leaves the dorm for any reason unless they've got the housewarden's permission. Period."

"Seize them!"

"After them! Hold it right there!"

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!"

You and Grim just about howled as you desperately tried to make a run for it. However٫ the two of you were not nearly as well versed in the dorm's building structure٫ so it didn't take long for both of you to get caught. Grim made an attempt to fight the boys off from the two of you٫ but it went just about as well as anyone would expect. Honestly٫ you felt almost tempted to expose yourself as a darling just to call abuse and watch as they groveled at your feet for forgiveness. You were soon pulled out of that pleasant daydream٫ though٫ when they started manhandling you and Grim.

FWEEET!

"Settle down and submit quietly, you grey little street rat!"

"Grey I'll give you, but I ain't no street rat! LEMME GO!" Grim argued٫ snapping at the boy like a feral cat.

"Argh, stop struggling! Back to your room with you!"

As they hauled the two of you back to the spare room٫ you were pretty sure you heard a couple of them whispering to each other about muzzling the two of you. You didn't know if it was to shut you both up or to control any more biting attempts٫ but there was no way you were letting that happen.

"Now stay inside and don't give us any more trouble!"

"Owww! You don't gotta swing me around by the scruff of my neck!"

"Give him to me!" You fussed٫ ripping Grim from his grasp and cradling your poor baby to your chest.

"Looks like the dorm patrol neglected to lock their room door."

"Hmph. You'd better not forget to do it this time! the housewarden found out someone got away or even٫ Seven forbid٫ got hurt٫ can you imagine what he'd do to us?

"No kidding..."

"Remember, any more funny business and you won't get off so easily next time!"

You watched as they slammed the door shut and clicked the locked into place.

"'Remember, any more funny business and you won't get off so easily next time...'" you mocked before examining Grim for any injuries. "Are you okay?"

Grim٫ though٫ seemed to distracted to hear you concern over him. Instead٫ he jumped out of your arms and scrambled to the door٫ banging on it with all his might.

"HEY! Let me out!" Grim shouted٫ before eventually running out of energy and giving up. "The door ain't budgin'. We've been locked in."

"Oh٫ really?" You sarcastic quipped and sighed٫ "From paradise to prison in record time...They're treating us like prisoners."

This did feel like a prison٫ but...was this how it felt to be a "claimed" darling? Would this be how your life would end up if one of those creeps were actually successful in taking you...?

You never asked for a free trial! What the hell?! Hell no! Plus٫ this place honestly smells like BO! Zero stars!

"Is this how they treat their guests? We might as well be prisoners! I'm gonna have a word or three with Jamil in the morning٫" Grim complained٫ "Oh yeah. ___, you got that handy little gizmo from the headmage, right? Use that and fill him in on what Scarabia's doin'!"

Oh٫ yeah! Grim was right! You guess you just haven't had a phone in so long that you forgot it. You took your new phone out and quickly dialed Crowley٫ impatiently waiting as it rang.

"Hello, you've reached Crowley."

"Yo, Headmage! While you've been out, we've gotten into a whole heap of trouble!"

"This phone is presently off for the duration of my tropical vaca—AHEM—I mean, my vital investigation. Please leave a message at the tone. I'll respond if I feel so inclined. Aren't I just the kindest?"

"Oh, COME ON! You literally just started to say 'vacation.' You're not even tryin' to hide it! What's the point of givin' us this lousy thing if we can't reach you with it?! You really take the cake, Crowley, you know that?!"

The message ended with a beep. In your opinion٫ Grim said exactly what you were thinking٫ but you wouldn't have put it as nicely.

"Just send a message to Ace and Deuce for now, I guess٫" Grim huffed٫ "Not that they'll be much help anyway..."

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:

♡ You start with the people you're well-acquainted with. Dropping off packages, trying to clean some stuff up, but much to your chagrin — there is one garnet-eyed boy who won’t let you go so easily. Kalim has a penchant for making 2-minute tasks lengthen out into 5-hour hangout sessions, and in truth, most of your income stems from him as well. As a Scarabia resident, you've more chance encountering him. And Jamil, in the stead of your previous devastatingly vague conversaton, is clad in a forever stillness. Like a snake, like a true viper, whatever metaphor you’d like to pin to his name , it’s true he does not trust you one bit. 

Gloves brush wood as Jade shifts, mulling your work over his tongue. “My, how cold. And after I went through the trouble of finding you such… plentiful work opportunities.”

You look up, squinting. The eel smiles - surprisingly, a flash of white - sly, sly thing  that could be framed and hung in a museum titled Nothing Is Wrong Here. “Explain."

“Why, merely that you’ve been quite busy as of late. I thought I might… assist.”

Assist, because clearly, your life needed more interference. You turn back to your work, sifting through papers and to do-lists. Much to your dismay, the people at Night Raven latch onto profitable kindness quite viciously. “Yeah, well, don’t.”

“I can’t help but feel it’s a shame. When there are far more… comfortable arrangements available to you.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“My poor, poor heart.”

Unease prods at you once more. Jade’s presence thickening, shrouding your esophagus with an intensity just shy of crushing it raw. You shift on the chair, turning so you don’t face the male, legs pressed together in an endeavour of making yourself seem smaller in his mismatched focal point. 

But he notices in an instant. 

“Is something the matter?” He eyes you, before letting his head dip inquisitively. “..Dare I assume, are you mad at me?”

Lest you respond too quickly - against his liking - the weight lifts itself off your table, and in true eel fashion, he slinks and slants behind you just as quickly.You swear you feel an irked muscle pop in your jaw when you realize you’re completely caged — one hand braced against the back of your chair, the other idly toying with a loose sheet of paper you’d been sorting. His smile hasn’t changed, but it’s  closer now.

“Ah,” Jade hums, voice dipping lower, nearer your ear than you’d like. “So I was correct, you’re avoiding me.”

You stiffen, a newfound aridity scouring your throat. “No, I’m just busy, ’s all.”

“Yes,” he agrees easily, as if the word itself amuses him. “So I’ve observed, and yet, you seem to have time for everyone else. I am your Club Leader, after all.”

The paper slips from his fingers, fluttering uselessly back onto the pile you’d been trying to organize for the past fifteen minutes. Knuckling at your lids, you sigh. “Look, Jade. I don’t have time for whatever this is. I’ve got deliveries to finish, and if I don’t—”

“You’ll what?” he asks gently, luxuriating in your falter. “You’ll fall behind? Lose your footing? Fade back into obscurity? So many choices.”

“I’ll get broke and die, then you’ll have to pry my deliveries right out of my cold, dead hands.”

Silence ensues. 

But it doesn’t take much longer for that smile to quirk and coil around your words. He straightens, and his hand moves towards your wrist, a touch so light you almost don’t register it.

“Then allow me to be of use.”

♡ Ouch! You smack him right over the head with a loose sheet of paper that, in truth, delivers zero damage, but it’s enough to momentarily catch him off guard. He blinks out of his stupor, and catches you walking out of the Mountain Lovers club, huffing and puffing. 

♡  But  you  don’t make it very far. Right as you open the door, you’re sure your heart drops straight to your stomach. 

♡ Blue and red, a spade and a heart linger at the sides of a visage you know all too well. Yuu, previously looking at the plaque above the door, stills when they see.. you. They blink, a list clutched in their hand, and suddenly, they’re spluttering, a warmth, a scorching tide gnawing at their face. You’ve no idea what they’re saying, but holy shit, do you have the most doomed luck in Twisted Wonderland? It’s very obvious they can’t keep their eyes off you.. and with the list in their hands, you’ve an inkling they’re picking out clubs with Ace and Deuce trying to assist them. 

♡ What the hell do you do now?

”I..” They breathe, eyeing you up and down. “I... woah.”

Ace groans, and he looks at you with such palpable irritation it’s baffling. “Here we go again. Man, I want to be anywhere but here right now.”

No doubt dragged to this occasion by the Yuu he couldn’t possibly refuse, Deuce remains silent, but his eyes are trained on you, puzzled. He recognizes you, you’re sure. You’ve survived spells, survived Jade, survived academic failure, survived Rook and Vil, and this—this—is what takes you out?

“Uh—hi?” Yuu tries again. The list in their hand crinkles audibly under the pressure of their grip. “You’re— I mean— I saw you earlier— not like saw saw, but— you fell in my lap and.. Um!”

“…you’re blocking my way,” you manage.

Heedless, they chuckle. It’s soft, airy, but at the same time,  a little breathless. Like they didn’t expect you to speak at all, let alone that.

“Right. Sorry. I just..” Their gaze drops, then treks upward to your face again, the latter unpleasantly miffed. “.. I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to see you again. You’re just, so, so.. You have a Magicam  account right? Give me— may I have your user?”

♡ A product of Yuu’s position as the main character. They probably deem you a random NPC, easily subject to their system’s whims and relationship level boosts. Perhaps they think if they throw in a flirty line or two that’ll get you to fluster and fall to their charm, but luckily, you’re just a brokie. And a spud. And a pup. And a nameless club member. You’re many things at once, but you’re not Yuu’s yes-man.

“Uh-huh. You’re still blocking my way.”

Something befalls Yuu’s gaze, quickly shadowed by another hopeful glint in their irises. Their attention travels somewhere behind you, and that’s, in truth, enough of a tell that an eel is lurking real close. 

“Ah. You’ve acquired company.”

”Jade!” Yuu chirps, the aforementioned acknowledging them with a close-eyed nod. Ah, right. Honestly, you think your time here is up. Jade’s head over heels for them, after all. “Oh, wow! How’ve you been? It’s been so, so long since I’ve-”

“Likewise. And.. if I may ask,” Jade opens his eyes. “What brings you here?”

Your lips crimp at that.

Yuu shifts the list in their hands, fingers fidgeting against the edges like it might fly away if they don’t hold it tight enough.

“I was actually—” they start, glancing up at the plaque above the door, then back at you, “—looking into this club.”

…

♡ No. No, absolutely not! This is the only club you deem safe enough. No, no, no. If Yuu enters, that foils all your plans. If Yuu enters, Ace and Deuce too. And if Ace and Deuce enter, then so will all of Yuu’s envious suitors. Jade, you can feel him start to simmer, feel him bend down to Yuu’s demand, feel him rife with joy-

“The Mountain Lovers Club is, regrettably, quite exclusive. I’m afraid you’ll not find an available seat. ”

♡ This is the very first time you’ll admit you could kiss him in gratitude.

Vision skewed and graciously dazed, you peer at the sides of his face --his mien unperturbed.  Ace and Deuce blink with you, but only Yuu verbalizes their confusion. 

“Oh.” They seem shocked, in disbelief. The stagnant pause ends with a meek: “…Really?”

“Yes.” Jade doesn’t miss a beat. “Our activities require a certain… disposition.. that is to say, endurance and compatibility with the environment.”

“—Yes!” You blurt, softening the blow. “Yes, yes it is! It’s also a.. best-friends only thing, if you know what I mean.”

Deuce, having been quiet all this time, finally speaks. “..Are you sure?”  He gestures to the male beside you. “Even he seems shocked you’re best friends.”

♡ Ack! Jade can’t be any more obvious. Pupils dilated, lips slightly ajar, it takes you right back to your proclamation of being best friends. With a  surreptitious nudge to his elbow, you bring him right back into reality, and he quickly masks his shock with an air of contentment. 

”...Yes, you heard them correctly.”

Yuu, however, just blinks again, visibly deflating. “Oh… I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“It isn’t,” Ace mutters under his breath.

They all watch as Jade steps closer. His gloved hand lifts, and before you can even process it all, positions itself upon your shoulder. And before he can process it, you sling an arm around his and reel him right back in, cracking a very wobbly grin. Oh! From this proximity, you think you can feel the tempo of a heart beating oh-so viciously, but you clear your throat and play the part. This is not looking so good. 

“Oh?” he blinks, close to your face, slanting down to match your level. “..I wasn’t aware we’d reached such prestigious heights.”

You tighten your grip. “We have. We totally have.”

“Hm. Then I must apologize,” he says lightly, turning his attention back to the trio. “It seems I’ve been a rather inattentive friend.”

Ace squints. “You don’t even sound convincing.”

“I assure you, I am nothing if not sincere.”

“Cap.”

Deuce, still frowning, crosses his arms. “If you’re really best friends, then it shouldn’t be hard to answer a few questions.”

.... Oh, dear. 

♡ Turns out, you and Jade, two peas in a pod, know nothing about each other. In truth, he was never your favorite character in the Twisted Hearts series -- and so you’d never pay heed to his personal character tabs, but having to face this reality is humiliating, to say the least... and that is to say, this guy is clueless. 

“What’s their name?”

“...Ah.”

“What do you mean by ‘Ah’? Their name is Ah?”

“I was under the impression that such formalities were unnecessary between close companions.”

“Haha, yeah, we’re just, like, on a first-name basis.”

♡ Yuu has a lot of questions to ask. 

“What’s their favorite thing about you?”

“Oh..”

”Ah..”

”Er— after you.”

“No, no. I insist. After you.”

“I insist more.”

  Ace looks ready to walk into traffic.

“I REALLY like his personality.”

“Do you now?” Jade echoes, the glister in his eyes lifting up his dazed bid at a smile. 

“Mhm. You’re so.. eel-like. Heh.”

“…Eel-like.”

“Yeah, like—uh—adaptable? Slippery? Good in social situations?”

“How kind,” he says, once he recovers, eyes glinting. “Then I suppose I should return the sentiment.”

Oh no.

“You are,” he begins, looking directly at you now, “remarkably persistent.”

“…That’s not—”

“And quite entertaining,” he continues smoothly. The rest watch the spectacle in both shared puzzlement and horror. “In a way that is… difficult to replicate.”

Your face heats. “That’s also not—”

“And,” he adds, softer now, “surprisingly honest, when it matters.”

♡ Having enough, Ace tells the others to hurry off before you two actually start making out. Yuu, however, follows his remark only with a tentative stride, glancing back at the now intertwined hands of you and the eel. You really are close, huh? It baffled them, up until now, they’d never heard of you.

♡ You.. however. 

♡ You’re thinking just how.. profitable keeping Jade Leech around is.  

♡ Someone’s been stealing your stuff.

♡ The thought is inevitable just as you make a routine count-down of all your belongings. You’re three numbers down, and you’re beginning to dread everything. (Though, you can’t help but scowl at the thought. Seriously, what good would it do to them to steal a half-chewed pencil, of all things? That freak..)

♡ The suspect is pretty clear to you, but you have an inkling there’s more to this.

♡ In order to dissuade yourself from the very large problem at hand, you tend to your mounting list of customers. In Pomefiore, you’re supposed to drop off a package, no doubt related to cosmetics. In Savanaclaw, something related to workout equipment. In Heartslabyul, you’re supposed to walk someone’s pet.. mouse. You skip over Octavinelle and Jade’s very evident handwriting - (a scheme to catch your presence.) And Scarabia...

♡ Gulp.

“You’re here!!”

Though, you’ve only met Kalim a couple of times, (more so because his gifted pile of adornments was endless), he still has the gall to beam  at you like you’ve laid out the desert stars yourself. Hands folding upon yours and bringing you forward, conversely, he watches you shrink into your collar.  “You didn’t tell me you were coming today! Jamil—did you know they were coming today?”

“Um.. I live here.”

From somewhere behind him, air whistles through Jamil’s teeth.  “No.” His eyes flick to the package in your hands, then swiftly back to your awkward stance. 

“You’re here for a delivery,” Jamil says. 

“Yeah. I was just gonna—”

“Stay for lunch!”

♡ And thus, today marks the day you’ve sold your soul for food, of all things. Seated and gently trapped, a decade’s worth of food presents itself before you, and the aromas effused gnaw at your senses, tempting. Spices, drinks, whatnot.  Kalim keeps piling more onto your plate like he’s trying to win a competition you didn’t agree to join. Though, as much as you feel Jamil’s opposition to you, he isn’t afraid to litter your already dazed mind with a maelstrom of questions. You wonder what it may be, the cause of his vehemence. Maybe because of the injury incident? Maybe because your presence results in greater work for him? Whatever it is, you dabble.

“Try this one! Oh—and this—Jamil made it!”

“Kalim,” Jamil cuts in, voice smooth, “they can serve themselves.”

“They don’t take enough!”

“They won’t starve in the five seconds it takes to decide.” Jamil directs his gaze to you, trying to oh-so vigorously ignore the fact you’re stuffing things into your mouth like you’ve been starved since your birth. It’s quite strange. Here in Scarabia, food is never a scarcity. “You’ve been taking on more work lately.”

You try to play it off. “Just… saving up.”

“For what.”

Your lashes dip. “Just in case.”

Jamil tilts his head slightly. “In case of what.”

God, he doesn’t let anything go, does he?

“In case I need it,” you mutter, poking at your food.

“If you need money, you can just ask me.” Kalim butts in. 

They don’t miss the sliver of light - suited to an opportunist - glistering in your irises. You think to yourself for  a moment, mulling it over your tongue. Was it really that easy? Had you really been prolonging your misery for nothing? Whirling your head towards Kalim, you hope you don’t come off as too eager. This could be your chance! “...Really? You’d do that?”

Jamil pinches the bridge of his nose. “Kalim, please. You are not funding every person who steps into this dorm.”

“I’m not.. Just them!”

“—But I really, really need it, Ka— Housewarden.”  Correcting yourself, pulling a clump of lashes down towards your woebegone gaze and overstretched lips, you extend a faltering hand to the white-haired boy. “I’ve been working so hard lately..” Only for one day, but you twist around the hurdle. “And it’s just not enough.”

Needless to say, his expression melts. As it should, who are you if not committed?

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn't important. But now, I fear I soon may..” You clench your heart over your chest. “Perish.”

Silence stretches around your words, intercepted only by Jamil’s very blunt, accusatory finger.

“You’re eating.” He remarks. 

You shove another bite into your mouth. Taste bursts sharp and savoury. “Who’s to say? This could be my last meal.”

“What?” Kalim blinks, horror dawning upon sun-kissed features. “Huh—”

”Yes.”

“Yes. Yes, let’s all acknowledge the very real threat of starvation currently occurring at this table, of all places.”

Your hand stretches a little further toward Kalim, fingers trembling just enough to sell it. “…Please?”

The speed with which he latches onto your hand - warm, buoyant and unabashed - does not catch you off guard. You relish in it, if only for a moment. “Yes! Of course I will! Besides, it’s my duty as your housewarden to look after you!” White shines in his smile. “Right, Jamil?”

The latter counts down to a number that only exists in his mind. Exhaling, he comes to a standstill. “...Within reason.”

“Yes!” Kalim lights up instantly, squeezing your hand with verve. Your fingers twitch in his grasp when you reciprocate. “See? It’s settled!”

“I knew you’d understand,” you try a smile. “You’re really, really kind. I’m glad to have you as my Housewarden.”

Kalim beams like you’ve handed him the world. 

“Of course I am!” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in existence. “And you don’t have to work so hard, you know? You can just come to me!”

Jamil’s eye twitches.

“That’s what I’m concerned about.” You huff a quiet laugh, glancing down at your plate, now ludicrously full, courtesy of Kalim’s earlier enthusiasm. “…It’s not like I hate working.”

That much is true.

“It’s just…” You pause, poking lightly at the edge of your dish. Poisonous spumes of memories; heels, scales, a classroom - make you lodge your lip between your teeth as you forage for the right words. You didn’t hate working. Working had become a part of your routine, you’d worked endlessly to evade, elude and ignore. You just don’t like it when..

 “I’d rather not owe anyone anything.”

The words slip out before you can dress them up. Jamil stills at the variation in tone, but Kalim slants his head, thinking over it. 

“Oh,” he says softly, and just like that, the energy shifts. “Well,” Kalim continues, thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand without thinking, “then don’t think of it like that.”

You blink. “Like what?”

“Like you owe me,” he says, as if the idea itself is ridiculous. “Think of it like… I’m helping my friend. Yeah, that’s it! You have other friends, right? I’m sure they don’t do all that stuff just to put you in some sort of debt!”  At the growing sombre wave over your expression, he gawks. ”You do have other friends, right?” 

♡ Right. An heir. Your friend. The two don’t match.

“Yeah!” You blurt before he can offer himself. “Yeah, I have one.. Uh, it’s.. his name is Jade!”

“Jade? Jade Leech?” He stares, before laughing quite heartily. “I know him! Hey, bring him over next time. Oh, I’ll even invite Yuu!”

Imperceptibly - just a tincture of change - you latch onto the pleasant change of thought pooling over Jamil’s unfairly pretty face, like a starving man. He was going to atleast try to mitigate Kalim’s suggestions, but the mere mention of the prefect has him chewing down his words, and when he partially turns his face to the side, the fabric of his hood conceals  warmth and a shy-tipped smile.

 “..Hm.” His eyes sparkle. “I suppose we can-”

“So,” you shovel three bites into your mouth now. “Where’s my money?”

“...On the condition we exclude you from such occasions.”

♡ Scarabia’s Number One loser turns to the side and wilts, but not before catching the bare of a chuckle whispering through the snake’s teeth. 

♡ Ouch! You’ve never dealt with classes amiably, and since then it’s devolved into some sort of a love-hate relationship. You’re not in the wrong here, of course. In your defense, the only thing you know about Astronomy are the zodiac signs. (..Or were they related to astrology? Oh, well, whatever). Animal Languages, Humanities, whatnot, they all are just as unbearable to you as Potionology, and your backbencher self can only retain so much of magical knowledge. 

♡ Needless to say, it’s a surprise to hear Professor Crewel start the day with a hint relayed over upcoming exams. You don’t care much about them, you know just enough to pass and stay out of any leaderboard lest you garner unwarranted attention (a plan you're failing at, at the moment). With Vil as your tutor, you think you’ve secured a solid position in the future.. Though, a  bit too solid for your liking. You might have to deliberately get a few stuff wrong in order to not  be the centre of praise, but just enough to qualify as average and not earn yourself an office tongue-lashing. Haha..

♡ Ah, right. Speaking of Vil, you’ve been granted the luxury of not being his focal point for now. Not so much, atleast. He seems much too preoccupied with the Pomefiore students under his lead, and for once, you’ve some time to yourself.. Hm, actually, you haven't interacted much since he got ahold of you in the classroom. No matter. It’s all tightrope walk, really. Unfortunately, you’re starting to suspect someone’s shaking the rope.

“You’ve been getting better.”

♡ Huh? You pause, pen hovering awkwardly over parchment. The voice beside you is unfamiliar yet not entirely so. Turning slightly, you’re met with the face of—ah. Right. Scarabia Student B. A reliable constant in your classes, someone who exists in that peculiar space of always there, never noticed - much like you. 

“…I have?” you reply, qurking a brow. 

“Mhm. ” He  perks up. “Potionology, especially! You used to look like you were about to pass out.. Sorry, no offense, but did you take Ashengrotto up on one of his offers?”

“None taken.” Your pen dances in the open spaces of your fingers. “Ashengrotto? No.”

“Oh.” He seems confused, much to your dismay. It only invites more conversation. “I figured as much. You don’t seem like the type to.. jump on the bandwagon like everyone else. All my dorm-mates are egging me on to strike a contract with him.”

Our dorm-mates. 

♡ Hm. You recall Jade’s previous allusions to you doing the same. Rule Number One: never make a deal, never be in debt.

“Also,” He prods. “Are you okay?”

♡ Oops! In order to placate your rapidly growing heartbeat and the perspiration streaming beneath your clothes, you’ve resorted to chewing at your nails - not realizing how weird that may seem. You can’t blame yourself. You’re just trying to.. prepare yourself for what you’re about to do - it takes will, courage and audacity, for some reason you have all three of those no matter how mild.

♡  You hum noncommittally then gulp nervously,  turning back to your notes, though your handwriting grows just a tad bit more jagged... But since you’ve incited conversation, you see how this story goes. 

 “You’ve also been… around more,” he adds as an afterthought. A sideways glance is all it takes for you to see the glister in his eyes - rendering your pen motionless. You’ve been writing nothing but nonsensical sentences, atleast to his mind, again and again, for the pursuit of I’m busy, let me be. But in actuality, this is all a part of one of the most well-crafted plans you have up your sleeve (one that’s not torn up from the several wildlife you’ve encountered on your hikes).  What to do, how to, what-ifs.  

♡ What if Scarabia Student B thinks ill of you after seeing the stuff you’re writing? Oh, well. You know beggars can’t be choosers - in the sheer chaos of your life, this is one of the risks you’re going to choose, even if it foils the sole thing you’re living for. 

“…Around?” 

“Yeah. Scarabia, obviously. But I’ve seen you near Octavinelle too. And Pomefiore! Vil Schoenheit’s tutoring you right? Everyone’s talking about how lucky you are.”

Oh.

Oh, that’s.. That’s really  not good, you think. In the stead of a frown, you give a light, airy laugh. 

 “If you’re trying to get into a different dorm’s good graces,” Scarabia Student B continues, “you should be careful.”

♡  You sink slightly into your seat, exhaling through your nose. So much for subtlety. You’d thought your little job-hopping routine was clever, a way to slip between cracks and stay just out of reach. But cracks, it seems, still run deep. 

♡  At the front, Professor Crewel snaps his pointer against the board.

“Eyes forward, pups. Some of you seem far too comfortable drifting.”

♡ When you lean back, you forget one thing: your life is terribly, inevitably, and terminally out of your hands.

“Psst!”

“I’m not giving you the answers, Bucchi.”

♡ Or not. When you mask your words in vitriol, Ruggie Bucchi - your classmate, trying so hard just to cop a look at your notes, though you’re not even in a pop quiz, deflates.  Rule Number Two: never give anyone the answer to anything.

Finally! Class zooms by quite swiftly, and when the students stream like little, vexing ants in a disparate gaze, you’re quick to scramble for your belongings and exit. Jade, as always, waits for you at the edge, and upon seeing you near him - practiced hand upon his chest - 

♡ Allows his mind to draw a blank. 

♡ Huh?

♡ Are you really holding his hand?

The barrier of his gloves  may seperate the sensation of fingers entwining, but he’s sure, no, certain you’ve enjoined hands. His gaze dips - to see the spectacle, so thoughtfully, so carelessly, so eagerly slotted against his like it’s always been there. 

“I told you not to wait for me,” Your usual grumble sounds loud today. “Whatever. Thank you, though.”

Like it’s natural. 

“Jade.” You deadpan. Ah, you really were on a first name basis. “Did you short-circuit? Hellooo?”

”Not at all.” His reply is immediate, and so is the suave upturn of his lips as he regards you. Fully reciprocating your hold, he hums as if he hadn't just pondered over your dynamic in the span of a heartbeat. “I was merely considering something.”

“Yeah, well, consider walking.”

You tug him forward, and he complies, seamlessly weaving in the newfound hubbub of the halls. Students pass, chatter ebbs and flows, yet it all feels even more distant to him now, for the sole reason you still haven’t relinquished your hold. You get weird, inquisitive glances from passerbys, and when you still don’t let your grip slacken, he realizes, all the more entertained, that this is intentional. 

“So,” you eye him. “You don’t have anything to do, right?”

“For you?” He replies smoothly. “I always find myself remarkably available.”

“Good, then walk me to my dorm. Actually, no, my room.”

“My, my.. I certainly wasn’t aware we’d grown this close.”

“Don’t you dare.” Whirling around a corner, you narrowly dodge a group of unsuspecting, giggling freshies. They all disperse when they see the eel willingly trail after, hand in hand, Jackpot. You were on the mark with your little analogy. “I’m skipping my remaining classes, ‘is all.”

Jade has a strange, numb, faraway look in his eyes as he talks. If you were any smarter, you’d compare his mental state to a giggling schoolgirl, feet kicking high up in the air and all. “Oh? Even if Vargas will have your head for it?”

“What am I to do?” You grouch, he can never get tired of it,  surprisingly. “I have so many jobs I need to pick up. So many deliveries, packages, dorms. My next job..”

“Where might that be?”

“Nowhere near Octavinelle.” You make a face at him. “I’ll have you know your handwriting is very identifiable, you’re not slick.” 

A soft laugh escapes him, a lie so gentle it almost feels true. ”Very well, then. I shall behave.”

♡ The journey to the Hall of Mirrors is easy and slow-paced, and in no time are you standing outside your room, bidding Jade adieu, or atleast the form of it you think would max out your stats. Scarabia’s numbers at this time are limited, considering they’re all very big on their grades and whatnot - so that buys you some time to do the unthinkable-

”I must admit-" He drawls on with his usual background yapping..

- the very core of your plan, the one you’ve mentally steeling yourself for, the one you’ve been rehearsing in the mirror for-

“Seeing you take such liberties to-”

♡ The next time Jade opens his eyes, he is sure of one thing. The ephemeral sensation of you coaxing yourself up and pecking his cheek happened, and this time there’s no barrier to try and think otherwise. 

Rule Number Three - keep your enemies far away, and Jade closer than ever.

♡ The next time you open your eyes, you’re very sure he just malfunctioned, gloved hand perched upon his cheek incredulously. Blinking, once, twice, doing nothing to remedy the touch -

”You..”

“Anyways,”  You shimmy inside before he can get a word in. “See you later.”

The door slams shut in his bleary-eyed, wobbling face. 

♡  For the next few days, you’re inclined into believing you just messed up whatever chance you had at salvation...because surprisingly, Jade’s stood. you. up.

♡ Surely, as a fellow second year, he must have as many responsibilities  as  you, and you surely don’t doubt that bit at all. Mostro Lounge must be another factor, and if Azul's really getting around to those contracts as per Student B’s words, then he must be more packed than ever. Still, you can’t imagine any other universe where you’d get withdrawal symptoms from the fact the eel no longer waits for you after class, nor does he come by to your ever-growing hike sessions. That foils the plan of no-attention, sure, but you sure as hell don’t want to go to Octavinelle just to bring him back, you’d be a fool to. Still, now, things have actually reverted back to the way you wanted them to - with you on your lonesome. 

♡ Not entirely on your lonesome, though. Vil is still a hindrance. Sometimes, he does manage to make some time for you, much to your dismay. And when you pivot and bolt away, one French-speaking hunter is always there to mitigate the problem. It’s always embarrassing watching people wonder why a grown student is thrashing around and screaming like a toddler whilst being dragged off by a Vice Housewarden… 

♡ Ouch. That sets it. You’ve no clue how to proceed now. 

♡ You can easily bypass Scarabia attention by sneaking awày and coming in late, past curfew. Pomefiore is inevitable, and so is Octavinelle, and ultimately, with Crewel’s insistence on you growing a backbone and learning how to actually fare well with academics, you’ve slowly and gradually reached one, final dead end. 

A Pomefiore dead end. All your encounters go somewhat like this.

“I take it you’ve learned better than to run from me, spud.” Silky blonde, pale purple wisps and perfume pool in your sight. Vil Schoenheit can see you preparing to run.

Surprisingly, and regretfully,  you  turn. Even outside of Pomefiore’s halls, he looks like he belongs on a stage rather than a school corridor.

“I  wasn’t  running.” 

“You  were  given  a  rare   opportunity,”  he  says, voice lowering. “Do  you  know  how  many  would  beg  for  the kind  of  guidance  I’ve  offered  you?”

He doesn’t like you groaning.“ Ughhh.. Fine. I’m lucky, I get it, okay? Now, if you’d just-”

“No, you don’t.”

Before you follow through with your plan and take to your heels, an icy hand grasps your chin, directing your gaze towards an even more vexed one. And despite yourself, a pesky chill dances up your spine — days have passed, and you’ve still yet to overcome the outlandish feeling of discomfort you get from him.  With pursed lips do you shrink, but with just a lone tap on them alone, you’re compelled into relaxing them and entertaining Vil’s caprices. 

Exhaling softly, he seems almost disappointed, brows sloping. “You’re inconsistent, spud. Your potential fluctuates wildly. One day you perform adequately, the next you sabotage yourself with careless mistakes. Deliberate mediocrity is still a choice, and a poor one.”

When you avert your gaze,  the sheer, bona fide pressure of long nails — albeit unintentional —  sinks deep enough to incite a hiss from you. 

“I’m aware you’re trying not to stand out.. but why,” A tap and your cheeks are practically smushed together.  “would that ever be something to strive for?

♡ Oh! Vil doesn’t even know the half of it.  How you’re just a background character, how you know wreckage and would do anything not to be part of it, how you’d do anything in your power to just stay away and never be perceived again, how every single line of the script has slowly been crumbling ever since you’d made a flimsy little mistake, how he doesn’t even exist.  You could go on and on, but truly,  what would he know? 

A downturn, a slope of your lips is what you give him instead of an answer, and in return you hear another soft sigh of exhaustion. 

 “Oh, sevens..”  he adds with his voice dipping just slightly, “instead of refining what you’ve been given, you choose to squander it.”

“I’m not squandering anything.”

“Then what would you call it?” he shoots back smoothly. “Intentionally answering incorrectly? Slouching through assignments you are clearly capable of completing? Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“...Oh.”

♡ Commences the never-ending loop of Pomefiore halls, stacked deadlines, and a huge bunch of books. It's quite laughable, to say the least, out of all your potential encounters, Vil is truly the only one who makes you uncomfortable enough to consider bolting away

♡  .. though you can never remember why. 

♡  “Psst...”

“No.. No.. I.. ” You slur and forget to thank him— whoever that was— for bringing you out of your reverie. Up front, class resumes, Professor Trein talking about something indecipherable. “I added the right ingredients, Vil, I did... ”

A giggle makes you sit up straight. Oh. It’s Ruggie. “Ugh, shut up. I’m not giving you the answer.”

♡ You’re not even sure why the hyena hasn’t gotten the hint yet.  Struggle’s part of the hustle?

“Dang,” you feel him slouch just as you underline three unimportant words three times, lips cinched tight into your perpetual grimce. Your eyes are still hazy, mind squirming, but you manage. “You didn’t even hesitate. How’dja know for sure I was gonna ask for the answers? Kind of rude, y’know?”

Head lolling over your shoulders, you don’t spare him a single glance. “That’s all you do.”

“Wow," Ruggie Bucchi, perhaps even more of an opportunist than you - leans back against his chair, clicking his tongue when you point him out for the millionth time today. He’s always had a knack for trying to cop a look at your notes, or at seemingly whatever your hands were occupied with at the moment. In return, he gets nothing, but as established, the struggle is part of the hustle. “That hurts a little, y’know? I thought we had something special.”

Good grief... “No, we don’t. Please NEVER entertain that thought ever again.”

♡ You’re already packing your things up lest he grows a little too curious and  deftly snatches  them away from you. When the bell rings, you’re already rushing out the door, seamlessly weaving in with the quintessential crowd and letting bodies obscure you from view. 

♡ But unfortunately, a grab at your sleeve halts you in your advance. Ack!

“Wait!”

♡ Not Ruggie. Not Jade. Not Kalim...  huh? Oh, yeah. You get it now. 

♡ Yuu stares at you with tenfold the adoration they once had, lips warming into a bright smile, white showing when you shoot them a questioning glance. Encapsulating your hand fully, they lean forward for you to hear them over the hubbub and you barely make the effort to crane your ears. It’s a fact they can’t read the room. Do you blame them, though? Debatable. It’s inevitable after all that attention and validation. Though.. the way it feels like they were standing right outside your class gives you momentary chills. ( that spot’s taken and you can only handle so much.)

“Sorry,” their grip loosens. “I just— we didn’t get to talk much earlier. You left so early, and Jade..” Teeth nearly mauling their lip, they shrug away the thought. “Nevermind. That isn’t what I came here for!”

“..What did you come here for?”

“You.”

♡ The entire world hears you groan.

♡ It’s the type you’d  imagine a tourist’s spot like Foothill Town would harbor, and honestly, how you even managed to land a job here is unfathomable. You can still recall the swathe of pity in the interviewer’s eyes when you told him you were an orphan, homeless, and overqualified (you have experience in washing Scarabian dishes). Manipulating situations through pity isn't beneath you. Frankly, you're surprised it keeps working. Truly, do you look that pitiful?

♡ You did get the job at Crisp n’ dips as well, but . . . you turned it down, for very obvious reasons.

♡ Anyhow, no need to dwell on that. What matters more is that you have your first, official job, and you can’t risk getting fired because the busboy (a certain hyena) can’t stop plotting with you. You don’t even want to know why the laws of this universe deemed you two a fit, working pair, and by what sheer misfortune you two work at the same diner: as if having him share a class with you wasn't enough. It reminds you of a certain assertion, the devil couldn't reach you, so he sent Ruggie Bucchi to do the job. ​​​​​​He looks a little goofy clad in work attire, but he’s still that same kid who tries to cop a look at your answers.

“Bucchi—”

“Just slip into Azul's office, look through his contracts, find the one with Vil's name on it, and get out before anybody notices—”

“Bucchi.”

“Easy enough—”

“Bucchi!” 

Snapping out of hysteria, he looks at you, saucer-eyed, ears slapping the side of his head in alarm. Heaving a sigh of great disdain, you turn to him, hoping he can see the look on your face past the mound of fur concealing it. “Go back inside, and clean the tables— whatever is it that you do, please.” 

♡ Oh! He seems amused. You want to punch him. It’s already hot in the mascot costume you’re wearing. Yes— that’s right. They picked you to be a mascot, wallowing in scorching perspiration and struggling to support yourself with spasmodic breaths. Unfortunately, your costume's permanent stitched-on smile sends the opposite message—  it only seems to buttress the smirk he throws your way, and by God, you want to reach in and stuff him in the suit. It’s not like you can take it off, too. You’d done that after a particularly stifling endeavor, and had someone recognize you by the name Magicam Hunchback alone. 

♡ Hmm . . . you wonder if Vil ever took that post down. Obviously not, judging from the speed of verbal recognition thrown your way. Perhaps it was because of your ill-fated nerves you hadn’t asked him to— you can’t help it, can you? Not when the lilac of his pupils drink you in and have you standing on the cusps of edged needles. He’s beautiful, above you, far more competent than you’ll ever be. It’s only natural he deems your futile requests a hassle to deal with... so if people were still theorizing about you being a soft launch and your tutor being involved with you in a relationship, why wouldn’t he take it down? It’s like he wants you to suffer just because you don’t knuckle under his demands. 

♡ People talking about you, it doesn’t get out of your head, never does. They definitely make him laugh. Oh, great, thank you. How did bro pull Vil? You never wanted to. They must have a GREAT personality. You’d argue with that, but let it go— after all, if there’s one thing you’ve learned from arguing and making amends with someone who compares you to an uncooked potato: is that it’s fruitless. 

♡  . . . Ah,  that  reminds  you!  Speaking of doom, it  reminds you of the man responsible for half your mounting problems. You need to remember to tune in for today’s study session. He’s made it clear he won’t take your escapades lightly anymore.. and with Rook always carrying a thrashing, less composed version of you over his shoulder, you’d rather not risk the humiliation. 

“..Seriously?”

“Huh?”

“Yer eyebags got eyebags.”

Ruggie's voice brings you out of your self-induced conspiracy. Peeling your lids open, you turn to look at the hyena. Through the spotty lens of your mask, you can only see half of his face, but you very well know it’s steeped in curiosity. Especially when he looks at the slip in your hand— or..paw.

“Is that a doctor's prescription? You catch a disease?”

“No, it’s Vil’s handwriting.”

There’s silence 

Raising his hands in surrender, he yields,  with  a low whistle following the interval. “Y'know what? My bad. Would've rather heard it was terminal.”

“Tell me about it.” A press of your brows has your lips curving down. No matter how you shape it, your mind keeps sinking to the dilemma at hand. Why did Vil want you in his club? “I doubt Vil would let me go unscathed if he caught me saying this, but it really is tiring having to deal with him.”

Ruggie, no matter how little credit you give him (a pittance, really) catches on to your sombre tone. It’s only natural he does. You can’t find it within yourself to fake your emotions, or put up a façade when every two seconds there’s a little kid giving you a gummy smile and planting themselves beside you for a picture. Rocking on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets, he treads very, very carefully. You get the gist he knows what’s up, that this is the most fun he’s had all year round. 

“...Y'know.” He avoids eye contact, lest you send another invisible scowl his way. “Usually when rich people start offering ya opportunities...”

There’s a moment’s pause before he deigns you a glance. A chameleon-like ability where the hues of his irises shift from to blue to gray. 

“They’re investin’.”

You thump your head against a wall and startle a couple of children. 

“Think about it! Nobody spends this much effort on somebody unless they're plannin’ on getting something back.”  He insists, waving his hands in your face as if to stop you before you actually bash your head in the wall and die. He’d lose his job if you did.  “Ya really think world-wide supermodel, hotshot Vil Schoenheit would deign a simpleton like you a glance?" He tilts his head. “People like you n’ me don’t get that luxury, and you still don’t get it through your head, do ya? You really are a goody-goody.”

♡ There’s no reason for Ruggie to do this. Really? Subtly coerce you into drowning yourself beneath waters and digging your own grave? The Ruggie Bucchi you know wouldn’t dare risk that, and you’re sure, on the assumption of yours that the Savana overblot has passed, that he’d know this better than ever. 

♡ Unless . .

he’s intentionally trying to get you into trouble?

You sneak a glance at him. No matter how much of a layabout he may seem, he excels at his job, leaving tables spick and span and finishing it off with a swift assist to the waiters. When he talks, occupied, those twin canines protrude. You mustn’t forget why you want to stay away from them. They don’t keep your safety in their minds.

Twisted Hearts is a game about villains. 

♡ Right! You don’t know Bucchi, really, you don’t. You know about the territorial hyena from the cringe-fest that is Twisted Hearts, but him in reality, you don’t. Does he know about Yuu and you? You wouldn’t put it past him. You don’t even know if Yuu and him are acquainted, if he’s head over heels just like the others, if he would really go that far as to intentionally lead you astray. He can smell you, can’t he? He is a beastman. Would he? One look at his smirk tells you the truth clear and fair. Who knows how to lurk in the shadows and contort their movements from afar the best, other than you, of course?​​​​

♡ You may have let Kalim get to you, you may have dampened Jamil’s suspicion, but that doesn’t make them your friends. They are not your friends. If they find out Yuu’s inner workings, they’ll make your life miserable, would they not? Because that’s what they are. 

♡ Characters bound to destroy the world for their one and only. And in no universe, no matter how much Yuu deems it true, are you anyone’s muse. 

“Mummy, look!” A finger juts out in your direction. “A rabbit!”

This is humiliating. 

♡ Heaving another sigh of despondence, you try to peer at the crowd. Taking up all the seats are customers immersed in idle chitter-chatter and fussy children. In a way, it looks no different from your world,if you ignore the obvious dissimilarities in their comportment and physical characteristics. One customer has ears bigger than their head — what type of beastman is that? One looks like a run-of-the-mill average Joe. One has teal hair, striped with black, and the other . . 

♡ Wait, what?

♡ . . Teal hair? You blink a few times to enhance what you’re seeing. You’re staring at the back of a person’s head. Into a haircut that’s all too familiar. Is that . . Jade? 

♡ Yeah! There’s Yuu. Sitting opposite him. They’ve managed to find your job location, or not, perhaps they’re both here on an excursion. A very one-sided excursion where the latter is trying to ignore the eel’s prodding and probing, any sane eye can see Jade is annoying them, and he just seems so lively. In a way, a manner he never took up when he was with you, a manner which differs so far from his formality. He seems full of energy here, so entranced — you suppose you aren’t capable of overpowering Yuu in this regard. It seems as if their charm is irresistible. 

♡ But then they get up. And you have this unbearable urge to get the eel alone and atleast share a word or two with him.  Yuu pays, clearly, and they’re leaving, another dot in the mass of a thousand. Surely, this isn’t what he’s been doing all this time? Frolicking around with Yuu? Your tormentor? How original.

Before you know it, a rabbit paw catches his sleeve. It's.. well, a bit worn out. Not something you’d expect Jade to wear, but his name comes out nonetheless.

“.. Jade?”

When he turns—

you realize that is not Jade.

♡ Floyd Leech?! 

♡ How doomed are you?! How did you even let it slip past you that Jade has his other half? You’re extremely lucky you’re still clad in your little rabbit costume, because you don't think you can ever stand the notion of him  copping a look at your face and recognizing you on campus. You go rigid entirely, words on the precipice of your tongue and perishing right after as his eyes, half-lidded and bored, languidly rove over your probably ridiculous button eyes. Extricating your hand just as it latched on, you stand in place. 

♡ . . . You also make sure to give him a little wave. Just in case he takes your silence into suspicious account.

“Huh?” The nasally voice is accompanied with the slow stretch of a pointy smile. “And who’re you—”

“Floyd!”

♡ Whatever attention he had on you gets wiped off in a millisecond, and he slinks back towards Yuu almost obediently. You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Opps are everywhere.

♡Oh, shoot! You totally forgot today was the day of the most dreaded examination: midterms. 

♡ And that’s not an atypical thing, really. You’ve never focused on those, that’s how you get your grades to amount to a forgettable pittance, but today is especially dreadful because in the midst of ‘fixing up' your bedhead, Vil had spent the better part of twenty minutes reminding you he expected nothing short of excellence. You can understand his expectations, after all, he'd spent months drilling the material into your skull, whether you welcomed it or not.So with a smile that stretched a little too tightly over your lips, you assured him you would. And you’re sure if this world were any more unbelievable, you’d have a big, fat paper slapped on your back with the words liar.

♡ Specifically because you’re stuck on the first question. You kept skimming through the sheet trying to find a question you’d at least know about, before realizing you’d reached the end of the paper — and you can just imagine that scowl on his face. You can remember him droning on about this same problem, but your memory’s waterlogged, and no amount of scourging can pluck that itch free. .  What an exemplary upperclassman you are!

 ♡ It’s also not just because of Vil, it’s also because this is the start of book three, and if your notion goes according to plan, then Ace, Deuce, and Grim will all grow little sea mementos on their head—with Yuu left to save their friends from their own stupidity. It’s quite laughable, really. That part keeps distracting you. 

“A bold answer.”

♡ Professor Trein has made ten rounds to your table, and has stood above you for the better half of  it as you both stare at a blank page. Whenever you write out the answer, it elicits a disapproving hum, and you’re forced to wipe it out. In the end, you just make do with a solid guess, and turn your paper in, chewing down your uncertainty and following the tide of students as they make their exit. 

♡ The rest of the day resumes.

♡ After a tiring study session with Vil, you attempt to trudge back to your dorm. Your mind’s hazy, misty, and through the dense, foggy plumage shrouding Night Raven, you struggle to keep up. It doesn’t help your brain is, much to your resistance, actively trying to memorize thirteen pages of alchemy at the same time, so when you see more than three figures up ahead — or atleast the shape of them — you uncharacteristically pay them no heed. Big mistake.

♡ Oh, shit! Your suspicions that someone had noticed Yuu's sudden interest in you are confirmed sooner than expected. Namely, when a handful of Savanaclaw students corner you on Main Street and decide a confrontation is a perfectly respectable substitute for magic. You’re no stranger to conflict, but you’re not a connoisseur of handling them too, per se — so imagine your surprise when you’re boxed in by the most ripped beastmen known to man.  They give Savanaclaw its name, it seems, and promptly remind you to never engage with the dorm again. Because . . . it doesn’t make any sense. You haven’t done anything wrong, what reason do they even have to resort to violence? 

♡ Unless . .  someone called them in? Ruggie doesn’t strike you the type to do that, neither does Leona (or does he? He was never your favorite) so perhaps you’re just haplessly grasping at straws and hoping your little theories land. Either way, the group doesn’t give you any room to argue. Grabbing your collar, reeling you in by the shoulders, whatnot. The typical bunch of Savanaclaw knuckleheads, really, so that accomplishes one more goal of yours: physical pain.  You don’t know which part of your body hurts, it's everywhere. 

“We’ve heard of ya” One of them snickers. It’s a hideous sound, you think, one that makes you stare past them amid the aridity of your throat. 

“.. You have?”

“You deaf or somethin’? That’s what he just said.”

♡ Quick! Think of something! Damn you, Vil. If he hadn’t plagued your mind with textbook material, perhaps you’d conjure one of the typical tricks you have up your sleeve. It then occurs to you, you don’t even have any experience in the fighting department. How are you even supposed to defend yourself? You watch as they quite literally empty the contents of your bag, bric-a-brac and stationery descending on the ground in cacophonous waves. It’s clear no one is around the area this time, all except—

“Hey, can you guys please move aside?”

♡ Deuce Spade! And . . . who’s  that?

Someone’s behind him, but your focus remains on him. “I need to get to Mr. Sam’s shop. You’re blocking the way.”

“Mr.Sam’s shop?” A rowdy beastman chuckles. “Why?”

“.. I need to get some parchment.” Deuce’s eyes narrow, spade crinkling and belying his skepticism beneath. “I’m going to send a letter home.”

♡ Except . . . he seems wary of you. Not just you, all of you. Does he even know you’re the one that’s being wronged here?  There’s someone behind him, someone you’ve never seen before, but something about them rings a bell of recognition within you.

♡ The contours of their face, the way they stand tight-lipped, they have a good couple of inches over Deuce — their hair is quite messy, jutting out in sleep-mussed strands as if they rolled out of bed, yet giving the impression it’s styled like that on purpose, curling around their face. Their face is steeped in staid indifference, they don’t spare a single glance towards the delinquents, yet amid their unsolicited questions, it treks towards you. 

♡ Who is that? Your heart squeezes in on itself. Your lip’s worn between your teeth as you feel them comb through your concealed stature, languidly traversing each and every part of your figure. It makes you feel uncomfortable, it makes your privacy feel impinged upon and paraded for their perusal. . .it feels as if the mere sight of you is being drunk in.  Who is that? They look familiar, overly familiar, too familiar. 

♡ That’s Yuu?

Your eyes are nailed open, pinned wide by incredulity. You don’t know why, but your heart bursts in little staccatos. There’s a little, stray strand at the side of their head, and dare you say, it’s styled exactly like the Leech twins. 

♡ No way. No way! They actually did it. They changed themselves because you poured your heart out at some blasted library! But . . what about their height? Even their face seems different. Makeup? Heels? Now they’re accompanying Deuce, staring at you, because no matter how much you could’ve told them you like someone who couldn’t give a single care in the world about you, they can’t help themselves. It’s like they need to stare at you.  Just what the hell is wrong with them? Do they really think you’ll topple over by their feet just because they did a little something new with their face or hair?

“Well, look what the prefect dragged in.” The Savanaclaw knucklehead jeers. “Deuce? Ain’t you supposed to be runnin’ your ass off at the track club and sucking up to your professors? Piss off, and take your little wuss with ya.”

Deuce looks on the cusp of letting his face devolve into pure fury. You can’t help but think it’s not that serious, but upon watching the tremor of his lips, you reconsider. The prefect and he have been pals since the beginning, and they must’ve fought tooth and nail beside each other. It’s only natural they have that kind of relationship, palpable in the way he pushes them behind him. Oh, wow. Shielding them with his body? Ground-breaking.

“Yuu, get behind me.. I’m only asking you this once, alright?” His brows press as he takes his attention to the group. You can’t help but feel as if he doesn’t remember you.  “Step aside. We’re not here to pick a fight, so please move out of the way.”

Yuu obliges, shuffling, though you’d argue that’s because they’re too busy staring at you, gauging your face for a reaction. A reaction on the change. A reaction on anything.

The Savanaclaw bastard mulls it over. “Hm.” Then he cranes his neck head-on. “Nah. Can’t say the same for us.”

♡ That’s all it takes for a punch.

♡ The sound is loud on skin. You don’t even know who threw it, but somewhere amid the jabs, punches are flying. Punches are flying in every wayward direction. Punches are flying . . . at you? The last thing you see is a Spade, and then your entire vision gets tilted, harshly. You’re spinning, why are you spinning?

♡ You realize a second too late when the air is knocked out of you. Did you just get punched by Deuce Spade?! 

♡ A solid right hook to your rib and you fall to the ground in blinding pain, it’s like he straight up tore something out of you. A half-choked scream evades and amid the tussling bodies, you see Yuu staring at you. They make no move to rush to you— but the pain is unbearable, and you clench the space over your ribs. Pain shoots up in your cheek when someone tumbles over you, dust kicks up everywhere. 

It's clear everyone’s getting their ass handed to them.

You lay sprawled on the ground alongside some ugly Savanaclaw bastard. Grunts follow. Glaring at him, you seethe. “This is all your fault.”

“... Sorry, man.”

And with that, stars burst in your vision.

♡ You wake up in the infirmary. 

♡   It takes you a while to come to.

♡ Your vision is, at first, incredibly spotty, and for the dots to ebb away, requires you to keep on blinking. Blinking requires strain, and strain requires more pain which you don’t deign to verbalize.  There’s no question that you were brought here by someone, a student, even. No lights have been turned on, you’re left in the quiet chalice of moonlight streaming in from windows and the growing pain on the plush of your cheek -- it’s past curfew, and no one is in the office, not even the Savanaclaw mutts. Shuffling, you realize a blanket’s draped over your shoulders, and a poorly-attached.. bandage on your skin which flutters away. 

♡ . . What a bummer! You  got  your  ribcage  and cheek beat in? You should’ve known to jump out of the way, especially since you know more about Deuce than anyone in the room! You must’ve really underestimated his relationship with Yuu. Because Book Three is coming around, it should be even stronger than before, considering they’ve dealt with two overblots. Strangely though, Yuu in Twisted Hearts was never quiet when he’d been forced to take to his fists. In fact — the dialogue options all centred around de-escalating the situation. 

♡ . . Seems like you really messed with their head after the library incident. Thought it should offer you some comfort, it has icy shards of reluctance roving over your spine. If the time might come where you’ll be coerced into interacting with Adeuce again.. then you’d have to book it immediately. Yuu’s made it clear they’ll stop at nothing, especially since they’ve changed their appearance. 

“You’re awake.”

♡ .. 

♡ ..What? 

♡ ​​​​​Ack! What the heck?!

♡ You flinch, blinking once more, and look around the room for the source of the voice. 

♡ There's an apparition at the foot of the bed. No, there’s a person standing there, a person you’ve never met before, you can tell. The pitch of their voice,  the dialogue.. it’s all unfamiliar and..

It’s Yuu. 

♡ The room glistens once.

Or.. it looks like Yuu. 

It looks like Yuu, but with the way they’re dressed and carrying themselves, they look like J̸A̸D̸E̸. They don’t look like themselves, and how long had they been standing there, watching you mull everything over on your tongue? Back at Main Street, you’d skimmed over their new looks, but now, having given the luxury of time, you’re taking it all in and realize that they’re trying to impersonate him. The man, who you, in the heat of the moment, had called best friend. ​​​​​​

Your heart quickens. How did you not notice it before?​​​​​​

Beams of silvered incandescence fall in stripes upon their face, and you realize their eyes have been morphed into a different shape, their lips a different colour, their height now towering over you...  What? How’s that even possible? How come no one noticed it at Main Street? Had they always looked like that? No— that’s not right. There is something completely wrong and yet has eluded everyone. Even the Savanaclaw brutes recognized them as the prefect, where you, someone who’s been flanked by said prefect, erred in the recognition at first. 

“.. Yuu?” 

J̸A̸D̸E̸, they look like. J̸A̸D̸E̸, the manner they carry themselves. They drink in the battered and bruised visage you’re clad in, and with that ̷J̷̷A̷̷D̷̷E̷’̷S̷ ̷G̷̷R̷̷I̷̷N̷  playing on the softer curve of their lips, their J̸A̸D̸E̸’S̸ H̸E̸A̸D̸ lolls towards you. Y꙰U꙰U꙰     J꙰A꙰D꙰E꙰   Y꙰UJ꙰J꙰A꙰D꙰E꙰

“Forgive me.” Upon receiving a pointed brow from you, h҉e҉  chuckles. “I was under the impression that reunions between companions of a certain familiarity were typically accompanied by some gesture of goodwill. A hug, if I recall correctly.”

They’re speaking like him. A roulette of personalities before it clicks into one concrete thing. You’re not even looking at their face anymore, your hands are wound around the softer bedsheet and your lips are restless welts between your teeth. What do you even do in this situation? Yuu, somehow, against all odds, has boxed you in an infirmary. It terrifies you, but, audaciously, you chew down the quiver of your face and school it into a calmer one. 

“Yuu.” 

You can’t see their eyes, but you know they widen around your utterance of their name. Quickly, before you can even process it, they cover the distance between you too. It has you jerking back against the wall, biting back a hiss at the strong contract. —They’re in front of you. They’re looking at you. What have you even done to deserve this?

“Yes?” Your eyes hesitantly climb upward. 

“.. Can you leave?”

They look like you’ve just said something befuddling. Quirking a brow and adorned in that same expression as you, they question. “.. Why? You’re hurt, aren’t you? It’d be unwise of me to leave you to your own devices.” Their eyes glister. They’re yellow now. A color oh-so familiar. “Oh, speaking of you being hurt, I apologize on behalf of Deuce. He really..”

Your hands. Their hands. They meld them together, fingers slotted against each other. Yours are warm, but theirs are denuded of any temperature, even as they press into yours like an ill-fitting locket. There’s a pit amassing in your stomach, gnawing at you, a massive blackhole of dread. It's everywhere, coagulating in the confines of your throat, even your ears and rigid body. You won't look them in the eyes, even as they give your hands a squeeze of confirmation, as if to ascertain you’re actually there. 

“.. He really angered me, you see.” Nails delve into the plush of your skin, before releasing it in a portrait of half-moons. “Oh, but enough of him. May I talk to you?”

—As if you’re real. 

Are you real? You can still hear their voice in the back of your mind. 

♡ No, no, no. You want to scream at them, but you’re afraid it’ll only escalate the situation. 

“.. Okay.” You tread carefully. “We’ll talk. We'll talk tomorrow, okay? I’ll talk to you all you want—” 

“—Just leave. I’m hurt.”

♡ It’s like they can't bear the thought of not listening to you. 

♡ Nodding, you watch them exit the room, the door closing. And just like that, you hide beneath the covers, not wanting to lament on what the fuck just happened! Squeezing your eyes shut, you don’t breathe until you're certain their footsteps have diminished into nothingness. 

“Spud!”

You jerk awake. 

♡ Dampness amasses upon your waterline before slivers of it stream down and onto your open palm. You’re sat upright, and the face of your tutor, Vil Schoenheit, should not offer you so much relief, but the bottled up chrysalis of your heart, the thumping staccatos of your pulse, all join to let out the happiest sigh you’ve ever breathed. You’re in the nurse’s office, you have not moved places, but Yuu is not here anymore. They’ve left. 

“Vil!” 

♡ You chew the word back down when you see the surprise on his face.

♡ You don’t know if it is because you’ve never once willingly uttered his name so.. joyfully, or because he’s wondering why, on the name of the Sevens, are you here. Judging from the way he’s in his Dorm Uniform, you must have taken him out of Pomefiore for this occasion, but beneath the gloam, he really does look like a cherub, an angel, more so because his face is tenfold embellished, softened and glamorous — not a day goes by where he doesn’t look gorgeous. Your  guardian  angel,  you’d describe him as, if you were a completely different breed of yourself, and if the circumstances were different, and if..well, you get the gist.

“..”

For the briefest of moments, more surprise fractures his impeccable composure. It vanishes just as quickly.

"Well." He smooths a nonexistent crease from the sleeve of his uniform.His lilac eyes sweep over your face with unsettling precision.  "That is certainly the most enthusiastic greeting I've ever received from you....Should I assume you've suffered another concussion?"

You hastily scrub at your face and wince.  The valleys of your palm glisten, giving you away.  “..No.”

"You've been crying." At your prolonged silence, he shakes his head.  “You have no need to verify it, I have eyes."

He doesn’t prod for more. Instead, he crosses the room with measured steps until he stands beside the infirmary bed, crossing his arms. 

"The physician informed me you were rendered unconscious after an altercation. Really? I leave you unattended for one afternoon and somehow you manage to involve yourself in physical violence."

“...It wasn't on purpose.”

“I would certainly hope not.” His thumb lightly catches your chin before you can recoil. He angles your face toward the light. “...Though judging by the state of your cheek, I can see bruising, and here I was under the impression you merely enjoyed collecting eye bags."

Letting you extricate yourself from his nitid hold, he eyes you, brows knitting close at your reluctance. “Did the nightmare concern your altercation?”

.. Was it a nightmare?

“..No.”

“Someone else, then.”

“...Yeah.”

He studies you long enough that you begin wondering if there's something written across your forehead.

“Who?”

“I dunno.”

He turns away, sighing. 

“I've discovered that people disclose the truth more readily when they cease believing they're being interrogated.” He glances back over one shoulder. “So I will ask you again another day.”

“Did you call me spud to wake me up?”

The question is airy, quick but elicits a soft sigh from him, stopping him in his tracks. When he whirls around, heels clacking against the tiles, there's a curvature to his lips, but not of pride.  As if almost conveying he’s got you  figured out, that you aren’t as elusive as you’d deem yourself. The sort of expression worn by someone who's finally finished assembling the last piece of a puzzle.

“So that is what's troubling you.” You stiffen, and he hums, folding his arms. “I suppose I can indulge your curiosity. After all, it would have been rather inconvenient to recommend you for Film Research while referring to you as 'that spud from Scarabia.”

Your stomach drops.

“Naturally, I sought out your student record.”

♡ Horror dawns upon you. It's then you realize of course there should be a school record of the person's body you’ve been transmigrated into. 

“Only to discover...” His smile thins. “...that you seemingly don't have one.”

♡ . .   

“Quite an impressive feat, really. Every student admitted to Night Raven College leaves behind paperwork. Enrollment records. Academic reports. Disciplinary files, in some unfortunate cases.” His gaze settles on you. “You, however, appeared to have vanished from the school's archives altogether. It was terribly inefficient.”

He brushes an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve.

“Fortunately, Housewarden Al-Asim proved considerably more cooperative. I simply requested whatever documentation Scarabia had on you.” His eyes soften into something almost miserable. “..As you can imagine, my efforts did not bear fruit.”

♡ You don’t answer.  Kalim knows your name. That day, at the infirmary, you'd given him it willingly, but it surprises you that he didn’t give it away. Did he even remember it? He has more than thirty siblings and he knows all of them by name, allegedly. It should be habit by now.. (Still, amid the sheer terror that Vil just implied he’s going to take you out of Mountain Lovers and place you into Film Research instead, you feel warmth in your heart). 

Presently, you school your expression, letting your gaze trek upward into the purple inferno that’s Vil. So, Ruggie wasn’t lying when he said Vil had been to Octavinelle. He must’ve struck a deal with Azul, Azul must’ve gotten Jade to comply, and Jade must’ve agreed.  “I don’t want to join your club, Vil. I respect you as my tutor—”

“Do you? That’s certainly shocking.”

“But I can’t accept this.”

"No,"  You don’t know what you were expecting, but the degree of his calm, it infuriates you no more than it riddles  you with confusion   “You won't accept it. There's a difference, and a rather important one.”

He covers the distance between you and purple inundates your vision, the purple of his dress, plaguing the ground. Though you’re loathe to admit it, his composure is far more formidable than outright anger, and subconsciously, you sink deeper into the blanket fortress you’ve built around yourself. Cool antiseptic against the interior of your skin, it grounds you until your eyes are inevitably forced to dwell into the reign of his eyes. 

"Acceptance, if you’d give it some thought, would mean consideration followed by a conclusion. You, however, as I’ve said before, have made a habit of refusing opportunities before you've even afforded them a glance.”

“Because they're opportunities I don't want.” You curl, coil, and do everything to shield your face from his. Detestable, you can tell it irks him so, so much. “I don’t want them. I don’t want to be put into the spotlight, I don’t want to be seen, I don’t want any of this!”

It shames you. Puts you to shame more and more and more. Sentences you to a perpetual embarrassment, because here you are reduced to tearful, loud hysteria, and Vil has not once raised his voice at you. He peers at you the same, a petulant toddler in his eyes. Why? Why can he never see you as something more than that?

“Are they?”

“—Yes!”

“Or are they merely opportunities that require you to become something more?” A long nail scrapes the cloth and suddenly, the blanket is taken away from you. You gasp involuntarily,  crisp air meets the bare of your skin and your mouth falls shut, given the luxury of seeing his face clearly. You don’t mull it over too long for his liking, and he scowls.  Deep and unforgiving. “Tell me, have you once attended Film Research?”

“No.”

“Have you spoken to any of its members?”

“..No.”

“Then by what merit have you deemed it unsuitable?”

“...Because...”

It is a strange, trance-like, curse-like bubble you’re in. Words seep from your mouth and into the fracture of the air much too fast, for a moment you’re inclined to believe he’s used his signature spell on you. Has he? Can he even do that? You hate him.

“...Because Mountain Lovers leaves me alone. I want peace. I don’t want people looking at me.”

Vil lets out a slow, almost imperceptible breath.

“There it is. You've convinced yourself you don't deserve them to. You are under the absurd impression that remaining invisible somehow absolves you of responsibility." His tone remains maddeningly even. "If no one knows your name, they cannot burden you. If no one notices your work, they cannot expect more of you. If no one grows attached, they cannot disappoint you." He tilts his head. “...It's a remarkably comfortable philosophy.”

His eyes narrow just slightly.

“It is also cowardice, and if there is anything I despise more than sloth, it is precisely—”

Lilac. 

“Cowardice.”

Even through the crescendo of his stare, you feel as though you can’t let him leave just yet. 

“Wait, Vil!”  He stops, and you lower your head in shame.

“.. Can you at least walk me back? To Scarabia?”

♡ You are a coward!

♡ A smarting, throbbing pain pulses throughout your body, you hiss and seethe and sputter into Scarabia’s lounge, where the night sky, buttressed by noctilucent stars on liquefied ink, bubbles and takes you into its breezy arms. You arrive quite late, at a time where everyone has surely returned to their rooms and tuned in for the night, but this is not your first rodeo and definitely not your first time breaking curfew. You’re more so grappling with the fact that Deuce Spade, the seemingly, oh-so loyal companion, has thrown a solid right hook to your rib and now you’re most likely crippled. . .  and that Vil has, without mercy, sentenced you to a lifetime of Film Research.

♡ You hiss again. You’d very well seen dialogues regarding how others would describe his strength as unexpected, but you didn’t really expect you to be the example.

♡ You'd been so convinced the stolen items had something to do with Jade, or Y҉I҉U҉U҉—or perhaps the usual mound of unrequited love. But now, you’re re-considering where you really stand. Had it been done out of malice? The characters have shown they've no qualm with hurting you, and clearly, this implies they’d stoop to more . .  . . violent methods, if needed.  Crisp air only burns the welts on your skin, you’re glad no one’s here to see you reduced to such a state. 

♡ Except the viper! Isn’t that just so peachy?

♡ He knuckles at his lids three times before letting his face pucker into a ball of confusion and drawn brows. Donning his sleepwear, his hair meanders loose, and his skin’s rid of gold, the same as you’d seen on him the night before. Stumbling, toppling over your own tongue in a drawl, you don’t realize the burn of air is whisked away with the sensation of someone tugging at your uniform and setting you down on the ottoman.

“Do I even bother?” He questions. Your head is low, dipped. A swab of cotton pounces at your face, a pitter-patter following the motion of his fingers.  Do I even bother asking you what happened, because you and I both know you never speak the truth? And how did you even get Schoenheit to walk you to Scarabia? With a finger pressed along your ribs, he prods. “Tell me when.”

♡ Gah! Everything is happening so fast, you can’t even process it. How can you when the one guy who’s so steeped in loathing is staring back at you, after you’ve just had a mental acceptance regarding their partiality to violence?

“When.”

“I haven’t even touched the bruise yet.”

Luckily for him, you’re pretty dazed after the encounter. 

“Wheehee... My bad.” A puddle of emotions twist your face into a frown as you lament. “Do you know they didn’t even use spells? It was a bare-knuckled fight!”

“Shh. Follow my finger.”

“You’re holding up two.”

“Only one.” Lolling his head skyward, his lips press down into a thin line of.. irritation. Even when you’re crumpled, he eyes you warily. There is always something in those eyes of his, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have taken it lightly. But you don’t, because the way he peers down at you, it’s almost literal. You beneath him, the natural order.   “..  I thought you avoided attention, so why provoke Savanaclaw?”

You have a strong aversion to small talk, especially when Jamil is on the receiving end. “Really generous to assume they need a reason for beating me up.”

“Hm. I suppose that’s true,” Without any need to continue conversation, he still keeps on probing for more. It’s quite laughable, isn’t it? He never struck you as the type to willingly engage in chatter with you, even now, his face is strained. How fun, knowing you’ve inconvenienced him.  “Still, I would’ve thought you the type to  at least defend yourself.”

You perch your cheek on your hand. “You thought wrong.”

“Clearly,” Pausing against your temple, the cotton is cool, even while littered with grime. “Why?”

“Why you thought wrong? Well, clearly, it’s a skill iss—”

“Why? You've had opportunities. If people insist on handing you those, why keep on refusing them? Even your own Housewarden likes you.”

You grimace. “I wouldn't phrase it like that.”

“You've earned Leech's attention.”

“I'd rather give it back.”

“Vil Schoenheit has practically dragged you into his orbit. He accompanied you just now to your dorm, didn’t he?”

Now, there’s an ugly bruise on your face and it’s not one he can touch and see, he can feel. Your lips pull into an elegiac little frown, and your eyes glaze over in mourning.

“I'd also, definitely rather give that back.”

His fingers still.

“...Why? Most students spend years trying to be noticed, and you spend every waking moment making sure no one remembers you.”

♡ Not this conversation! Looks like you’re at a bit of a standstill, but that entertains the thought: looks who’s talking. Pot, meet kettle, isn’t that what he does, in a sense, in a far more different sense? You don’t know how to reply to that, because Jamil is very clearly, very not  passively, explaining the obvious. Even the way he looks at you now is complicated, denuded of emotion that can be gauged. You merely purse your lips in lieu of a response, and avoid his gaze, like you’ve always done. 

“Can we please talk about something else?”

There’s a pressure on your palm. An accidental, harsh pull, and with a sigh, he tells you; “I can never understand you. Oh, well, it’s done.”

You blearily blink up at him. “It’s done?”

“The bandaging.”

He was bandaging you up this entire time? Oh, so that’s why he was so atypically immersed in your conversation.

Leaning back and scourging the contents of his work, which in actuality is just a linen strip of white shrouding your palms and the bare of your arm, he hums. It’s a non-committal, little thing that’s whisked away beneath the empyrean domain, blues and purplish-black lairs of twilight, cast back into the likeness of his eyes. He’s staring at you again. Waiting for, well, something. Something you’re clearly not willing to give. 

“Thank you.” Clearing your throat, its dryness is gone. In the heat of Scarabia, only you feel its cold fangs nip at your skin. When you retract your gaze, you realize, shit. Had you been looking at him? “.. Aren’t you going to leave?”

He raises a brow. 

“It may have slipped your mind that I’m your Vice Housewarden.” His arms are now folded. “In any case, you should be the one heading to bed.”

♡ Say less. You really don’t want this unsolicited thing to escalate, so you verbalize your agreement with a hum, and attempt to leave him be. The keyword here is attempt— and the trigger word here is Yuu. 

“After all, I imagine Yuu must be waiting for you tomorrow.”

A chill goes up your spine.

♡ You fall back down. Why? Because a tremor shot up your legs and now you’re that same crumpled mess you were in the library. 

♡ Ugh! Great! Another Yuu-thing to worry about. You really wish they stopped getting on your case. The incident at the infirmary still hasn’t left your mind.. Y꙰U꙰U꙰’S꙰ face staring you down. Why’s Jamil looking at you like that? With a shadow cast over his usually staid face? It unsettles you no more than it terrifies you, how have you messed up this bad? Quick, think of something! It’s time you set the record straight once and for all.

“You don’t have to worry,” hands morphed into fists in your lap, you think he feels you avoiding his gaze. “I know.. your— ahem, affections lie with Yuu. I would never personally get in your way, Vice Housewarden.” Heaving a shuddering breath, you stand up. “I’ve too much respect for you in that regard.”

♡ Uh. . why’s he looking at you like that? Brows raised, lips on the verge of shooting up into an amused smirk. 

“Hm? Affections? Where did that come from? I don’t recall bringing that up.”

♡ .. . . For your next trick you’ll need a gun and a shovel to dig your grave. Really? 

“—It's obvious.” You amend. “The way you look at them.”

“When did you see me looking at them?”

Uhh..  “When didn’t I see you looking at them?”

“There’s  no point in puerile assumptions, really.” There it is again. That clipped, clear tone. Lids rolling over charcoal finality, he folds his arms again, and once more, his hair curtains his face in a blanket of shadows. “I’m a boring guy to be around. One who doesn’t know his way around the latest trends or media. What could Yuu possibly gain from sparing me time? They’re an odd one, no more than you.”

♡ Jack of all trades, master of none! 

♡ He’s trying to dissuade you from it, the reality of what he feels, and if you were any less of a connoisseur at combing through facial expressions (which really is just obtained foresight from Twisted Hearts), you’d have believed him. But you don’t, not even for a second — in a  sense, you believe he thinks he’s gotten you off his trail, that he’s outsmarted you.  You don’t want to pester him for more, try to steer his belief, or attempt to relate to him. Truth is, you always see that smile of his whenever the prefect is mentioned, that tug on his hood, and the glint in his eyes. He lives up to his name. A viper, camouflaged in plain sight. 

♡ He must mistake you for a dumb one, or maybe he doesn’t. You think he doesn’t, not at all — perhaps he’s waiting for you to make that one mistake and sink in the hole you’ve been digging for yourself. 

”Come on,” Your voice nags his attention. “..Boring guy? You've been trying really hard not to laugh all this time— especially when you were patching me up.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his head lists gently towards the side. 

“I looked awful, I know. You can admit it.”  Pitter-patter, there goes your footfall, away from Jamil as you angle your body towards the one place you can find rest. You can’t see his face, but you don’t think of anything else other than his signature composure. That’s bad. “It’s way better to tell me you think I’m miserable up-front than going behind my back and keeping it to yourself.”

That’s bad. It’s bad. Jamil is willingly making conversation with you. This is bad. You need to set him towards a different path.

♡ Reaching your room, you catch someone peeking at you through a half-open crack in the door, Scarabia Student B! Nosy, curious, wondering why you and his Vice Housewarden were in that lounge. Without greeting him, you slam your door shut.

♡ Finally! The end of a tiring day. 

♡ Unfortunately, rest does not easy. 

♡ In the murkiness of your room, lit only by the pearly eye outside, you comb through the space. It’s barren, of course — your shelves, though, are lined with . . . accessories. 

♡ One  of  the  most  shiny  things  you  own,  is  of  course,  a  bracelet! Gifted  to  you  by none  other  than  Kalim. Your journal is by its side. There’s  also  a little  mushroom  encased  in  glass  you’d  discovered  on  your  bygone  hikes  with  Jade. You’d  never  noticed  that  before. . . it  only  now  reminds  you  just  how  many  of  your  little  trinkets  you’ve  left  back  in  the  Mountain  Lovers  club,  they  must  be  catching  dust  by  now. Should  you  drop  a  visit  tomorrow  to  pick  them  up?    You don’t know how  you’ll handle seeing him. 

♡ Climbing out of bed, you pick it up! There’s a little slip of paper plastered on the pane: Amanita verna (Destroying angels). 

♡ It seems familiar. A swathe of white is all it is, steeped in the colour from head to toe.. You remember it! That’s the same mushroom you’d encountered on your first hike, the same one you told him not to eat. It’s almost strange how he’s kept it all this time — and really, in glass? What if its toxins are airborne? When did he even give this to you?

♡ Shuffling back to bed, you pull the covers up to your chin, squeezing your eyes shut. Oh, well, a new day awaits you. 

♡ Wake up! Sometimes you get reminded why Kalim is unfit to be a Housewarden. Under the pretense of something important, he’d woken you up and led you to Scarabia’s kitchen. You’d, at first, thought he just called you for breakfast, but one glance at the time gave the numbers 4 : 50 AM away. Under no circumstances, in any universe, would you be willing to wake up at dawn’s peak, except this one. There are few things in this world worth waking before sunrise for. An emergency. A natural disaster. Perhaps the Second Coming. 

♡ Turns out, he’s trying to arrange a party to commemorate the end of midterms, but Jamil’s chagrin is hindering his plans. A dorm-wide party to ‘boost everyone's spirits?’ it makes sense why Jamil has vetoed the idea outright.You can’t understand why this party would be a hit, considering that it takes place a day before midterm results would mean everyone is too preoccupied with stress or fatigue to ruminate on it, but oh, well, you’re far past arguing with your Housewarden. If the goal is ensuring everyone fails together, it’ll certainly work. 

♡ You have no desire to help him out, because for one, you’re fatigued beyond measure, going against  Jamil would warrant only doom — and finally, you don't trust him in the kitchen. There’s a reason why Jamil’s restricted his access to fire and anything flammable. (Though, even if it were to occur, can’t he use his unique magic?)

♡  All in all, you’re a bit surprised to see Kalim’s eagerness, so much so he’s completely overlooked what Jamil would think of him. The latter wouldn’t cook, in spite of his demands, so the boy’s brought it upon himself to do the task instead, only, for some reason, he needs your help, not the help of hundreds of other Scarabian students that would befit the skill. This has all the makings of a disaster.

“I wanna throw everybody a surprise party after classes!” He throws his hands up, relenting. The light emanating from his face alone makes yours crimp. “I think it’ll make everyone less nervous before the midterm results are announced. So? What do you think?”

“The truth or a lie?” At the persistence of his smile, you mutter. “I think it'll make everyone fail midterms, Housewarden.”

“Really? Then we’ll just have it after.” He seems surprised. Was he expecting you to agree with him? If he really insists on your companionship, then it’s only natural you come out of your shell and tell him the bare-faced truth. Though the tinge of it makes you feel the tiniest bit woozy. “Everyone in Scarabia’s studying all the time, they deserve something fun, don’t they?”

“.. Yeah.” Air whistles through your teeth as you set your eyes straight on the cutlery. “They do. I think that’s very considerate of you, Housewarden.” And that, in all honesty, is not a lie.

♡ He begins rummaging through cupboards with alarming enthusiasm!  Bowls, plates, three ladles, a whisk. Somehow, a watermelon, and a flour bag half his size. He turns to you and asks you what you both should make, and you relinquish the decision to him. You help him out with whatever he’s making with the watered-down dough — slicing melons into bits and focusing way too much on avoiding the knife’s end, and whenever he asks for something, you put yourself to the task and provide. 

♡ It’s only natural, though, that his need for conversation overwhelms him. 

”Hey,” he smiles at you. “Now that you mention it, you never brought Jade over to Scarabia!”

You never mentioned it, but okay. The question makes you pause.. Jade. The real Jade, not the one you thought you saw. Crimson, fruity rivulets skim over the ridges and valleys of your palm as you pretend to ruminate it over, but you end up conceding the real answer to him regardless.

“I don’t think we’re friends anymore.”

♡ That makes him pause! 

♡ He seems shocked, truly. Eyes saucer-wide and lips parted, but then again, you expected it to be subsumed beneath the weight of his optimism. Even when he has no idea  why Jade’s left you alone, he still makes an effort to alleviate your mood. After all, that’s the impression you left for him to feast on, that you were lonely, on the verge of dying and in dire need of help. For once, the kitchen falls quiet save for the gentle simmer of something forgotten on the stove.

“..Really?”

“Really.”

Kalim blinks once. “..Did you two have a fight?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what happened?”

“ ..Nothing.” Your head lolls over your shoulder. Tongue curling over soundless words, words you’re not even sure why you’re deigning him the brunt of, coalesce. “Nothing needs to have happened, Kalim. Sometimes people just stop talking, and that’s a  part of life. They don’t need to have disagreements.”

He’s frowning at you, you can tell from your periphery, a bona fide frown that’s not at all the moue he wears when Jamil refuses to indulge one of his whims. A genuine one whose likeness is casted back into the nitid curve of your knife, as you twirl it around and around.  "I make it pretty easy."

"How?"

“I avoid them. Hide. Run away. Occasionally pretend not to hear them. Sometimes I literally climb out windows.” A tiny smile tugs at your lips. “I'm kind of difficult to be friends with.”

♡ Kalim doesn't smile back. Instead, he sets the mixing bowl down with a dull clink!

“I don't think that's true! You just listed a bunch of things you do.”

Something warm engulfs your hand. Your hands. His hands. He melds them together, fingers slotted against each other. Yours are warm, but his are even warmer as they press into yours like an ill-fitting locket — but it’s not at all like Yuu’s grip. It's gentler, it’s genuine, and it’s kind. You won't look him in the eyes, even as he gives your hands a squeeze of reassurance. “Not who you are. You're nice. You always help me when I ask. You help clean. You always thank the ghosts after they serve you lunch. You're just scared people won’t like you— and tell you what—”

He’s beaming at you now. “Sometimes Jamil ignores me for days. Sometimes he tells me I'm impossible, but we always end up talking the next day! So you..” A thumb juts out from your interlinked... pinkies? Had he made a subconscious promise?  “Should talk to Jade.”

♡ You stare at him. . Yours and Jamil’s situation is very different, and the dynamic these two share bears no similarity to Jade and yours. If anything, you have no obligation to make amends with the eel, but still, you make do with a shuddering nod. 

“See? You’re smiling!”

“I’m not.”

♡ The new day is horrendous because you find yourself back at the Mountain Lovers club, against all odds. 

♡ Right before sending you off, Kalim gave you a small task. He wanted you to send out the invitation cards to multiple students, seeing as you’d taken on multiple jobs with the same nature. One of the names you instantly recognized, Silver. You agreed, but made your way to your old club, hoping you wouldn’t catch Jade in the process. 

♡ Only now you’re clearly trying to hide from someone, because the eel is right there. 

♡ Honestly, if you’re being honest, you hadn’t expected Jade to be in the Mountain Lovers Club, the most expected thing of him. You’d at least think he has a knack for camouflage, with the way he’s completely eluded your senses these past few days— or months. So imagine the consecutive, twelve heart attacks you get when you catch the prowling figure in the corner, situated where he always is since the day you stumbled into the room.

“Would it be impertinent of me to assume you’re trying to hide from me?”

♡ Ack! It’s been such a while you’ve seen Jade that it almost feels surreal. A husband returning from war, as you’d first put it during your departure in the earlier phase of your.. parasitic relationship, but now you’re not so sure anymore. What does it feel like?

♡  . . . He’s caught you dead in your rights amid your prancing, and even ensconced within your reluctance, you sneak an itsy-bitsy glance at him. Your gaze is confined to his self-same face, one that remains unchanged though you’ve spent so many days apart. His comportment  is exactly as you remember it — suave and placid — and somehow, that's what makes seeing him so strange. Yours has changed, has it not? You’ve been dealing with Yuu, Scarabia, Ruggie, Vil . . 

♡ Ridiculous. Leech is standing five paces away from you. 

♡ What do you even say? You don’t want to probe at him, ask him where he’s been, ask him about Vil. It’s entirely possible he was occupied with the semester, with Mostro Lounge, his hikes, or whatever his slippery mind latched onto. Showing that much eagerness would definitely corrode the image you’ve been trying to build, right? Though, him disappearing right after that cheek memento seems too odd to be a  coincidence, and you know it isn’t, you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, for his own sake.

So, you just heave a sigh, and let your eyes trail to the room. 

“..You've always had a  talent for assumptions.”

“Have I?”

“You've assumed correctly enough times for it to become annoying.”

"How flattering.” He hums, accepting the correction. It irks you. “I’m relieved to see your wit survived my absence. I was riddled with fear, you see.” With a gloved hand on his chest, he sniffles. “How you could possibly survive without my interference.”

♡ Ugh! He expected otherwise. Sure, you had a bit of a tussle with the withdrawals, but you did just fine without him. Sure, you can see him grinning slyly at you, his words but a harmless jab.

“I considered several possibilities.” He keeps on going, eyes transfixed on the arrays of . . truth be told, an entire ecosystem of wildlife. The emanating light casts an azure glow on his face, and you find  veils of lashes covering the glint in his eyes.  “That you would continue avoiding the Mountain Lovers Club indefinitely, or that you had simply forgotten where it was, and I did entertain the notion that one of  Schoenheit’s extracurricular endeavors had finally succeeded in claiming you. Dare I say, you're even starting to resemble him in speech.”

You pale at the implications. “You're hilarious.”

“So I've been told.” That smirk may as well be a cathedral of pointed arcs, ripping past his lips as he places a gloved hand on his chin. 

There’s that usual silence, enveloping you. You try to let your attention fixate on something else to avoid the strain of conversation, somehow it feels foreign to you.

But then he breaks it.

Unfortunately. 

“But of course, horrible as I may be, I couldn’t possibly leave my best friend to fend for themselves.”

♡ Ouch! You nearly topple over a display and break the glass. 

“..Best friends?” You cough.  “That sounds inaccurate.”

Ah, right. You had mentioned that, hadn’t you? Back when Yuu kept on pestering you, and you found no better alternative than to pin that label onto the one person you would never find yourself making friends with. His smile neither grows nor diminishes, remaining suspended in that infuriating middle ground where every word he utters sounds like the conclusion to a joke only he understands.

“I see. Then perhaps I’ve been reading the situation incorrectly.”

♡ You don’t get it too twisted. For what it’s worth, you know Jade doesn’t actually consider you a companion. In actuality, he doesn’t appear to find the idea of physical contact or friendship  too appealing as demonstrated from your botched cheek kiss, the embarrassment of which you mentally recoil from — so he makes do with throwing little jests at you. Perhaps he indulges himself in your micro-expressions, the way you school them, or the sneer you send his way. It’s a wicked game, but really, you’re not all that irked. In a way, you can proceed with your plan. The keeping-Jade-Leech-near-you plan. It worked before, he wards people off perfectly, doesn’t he?

♡ You.. just have to remain interesting enough. To his eyes, that is. You need to keep his curiosity at its apogee. The question at hand is: how do you do that?

“Incorrectly?” Your voice, brought into the moment.  It’s only now you realize that the both of you aren’t even looking at each other except for stolen glances eluding the other’s attention. Back to back, the two of you stare into opposing sides of a display. This can’t get any stiffer. “Usually, when a best friend disappears, they inform the other beforehand. An explanation, if you’ve ever heard of it.”

There’s silence. 

You can just see the surprise coloring his face. In tinges of blue, white, green— the sea, spumes of it contorted into  a release. Not a soft one, a milder, more slippery one.

“..I hadn't realized an explanation was expected.”

Something flickers across his face. You see it in the glass, the likeness of his it casts back at you when he moves his head to stare. It's gone so quickly you wonder if the light had merely shifted beneath the leaves overhead. Like a tinge of intrigue rejuvenated. You wonder what is so haplessly appealing about you?

“Then allow me to apologize.”

♡ The next moment, he’s offering you his arm, and you take it without hesitation. He’s had you close, and there he is,  leading you to.. where? You don’t question it, but along the way, he deigns you a glance down.

“Perhaps I was too presumptuous.”

You don’t. “... What’s this about now?”

His eyes grow a tad bit darker, but then he grins again and you frown.  "I had thought the interval of our separation might warrant another display of affection, to put it modestly..."

♡ You go still. 

♡ Jade picks up on it, giving you a questioning hum. It’s gone as soon as it inspissates, and you trudge forward to the destination.

♡   . . . 

♡ The cafeteria is loud, loud, loud! It feels foreign, because you spend most of your time secluded in your dorm, eating lunch junk where no one can see you. Apparently, the ghost chefs hired at said place were once five star connoisseurs, and you’d be nothing but dumb if you missed out on a chance you never had the luxury of in your past life... which goes to say: you aren’t exactly sure how to take him bringing you to the cafeteria, of all places.​​​​

“Can you go and get that sandwich for me?” Ouch, where are your manners? Eating with your mouth full? You mutter again just in case. “The one.. ugh, what’s it called? The one with the uhh—​​​​​the green thing?”

“Brazenly telling me to do your bidding,” even in the hubbub of an area this packed, he manages to embody that properness immaculately. “Heh, heh, heh,” you ignore that diabolical laugh. “Now, does it not disturb you we may not be as close as you think?”

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, mindfully chewing his question over. . . Of course, you’re never one to deem yourself of greater amity in his eyes, that’d be ludicrous to assume, but if you don’t play your cards right and act like they’re unstable, you feel like you won't be getting too far. ​​​​​

“..I don't know,” you admit after swallowing. There is no taste, you notice. “You haven't poisoned me yet.” ​​​​​​

Jade stills. There’s a glint in those eyes of his, it vanishes as soon as  he gives you room to ponder on your own spoken words. Why would that be your first thought? It works, though, because he prods.

“Is that your metric for friendship?”

“It’s a decent start.”

“You are very forgiving.” A chuckle sounds. “And if I refuse?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” heaving a sigh, you prop your chin on your hands woefully. “.. I would have to get it myself.. but it would’ve been really nice if you did it for me.”

“What do I receive in return?”

“I don’t know,” you drag a hand down your face. “I’ll decide when you get me my burger.”

“Did you not say you wanted a sandwich?”

“What's the difference?.. Fine. I have nineteen thaumarks you can probably barter for a mushroom pen or something.”

♡ You can tell Jade has to physically stop himself from appearing amused, because this little Scarabia NPC is genuinely trying to negotiate with their entire, non-existent wallet! Nevertheless, he doesn’t torment you more. Instead, he brings back the sandwich you wanted — and gods, it does look like the most appetizing thing on Earth. Without sparing it any mercy, you shove the thing into your mouth and disregard the question present in his eyes. 

“Forgive me for probing, but the manner with which you’re.. eating that sandwich..” His eyes widen the slightest bit. “I would assume this is the first time you’ve been given the opportunity.”

“You’re one to talk. Have you eaten anything other than Destroying angels?”

♡ Aha! Shock paints his face! 

♡ He is quick to mask it up, but even in that staid composure there appears to be something he wants to say to you, present in the still contemplation of his lips. Then, when you lean closer, he blinks back into reality. 

“What a predictable question,” he chuckles, his familiar close-eyed smile settling back into place. “If you truly wish to know, my palate has had the fortune of wandering rather extensively. I'd argue cuisine tells one far more about a culture than history books ever could. A nation's fears, its prosperity, the produce its soil permits... all of it finds its way onto a plate.”

You hastily clamp your lips shut. Perhaps egging him to go on a tangent wasn’t the best course of action.

“Take sandwiches, for instance. They're deceptively ordinary. Bread is rarely chosen at random. A dense rye carries fillings quite differently from an airy milk loaf, while sourdough lends enough acidity that one must consider the sharpness of the accompanying vegetables. Even the order in which ingredients are layered determines whether one tastes the meat first, the herbs first... or simply a regrettable mouthful of sauce.”

“Uh—”

“Mushrooms are especially remarkable in that regard. Their flavour changes so dramatically depending on the variety and preparation. A delicate sauté brings out an earthy sweetness, whereas roasting deepens their savoriness entirely. Some are wonderful folded into cream sauces, others are best left almost untouched. They're... surprisingly expressive ingredients.”

By the time he’s finished his prating, you’ve already downed everything at the table. Food’s shadow coils in the corners of your mouth as you relish in the aftertaste, but it’s a bit hard to do so, especially when the eel is eyeing you all the while. Tongue swiping across the back of your teeth, you emit a false cough and look towards him. You don’t even know what it is he’s eating, and you don’t question it. 

“For a second, I thought we weren’t talking about food anymore.” You quip, glancing at him. Hm, strange. Why’s he looking at you like he wants to pounce—

♡ He shoves a spoonful of food into your mouth!

​​​​“Did you taste the basil?” Utensil remaining untouched, he pours his attention onto you. The back of your palm bolsters your coughs as you try to get the shock out of your system, setting him straight with a mean glare. The sudden action combined with your little injury has you sure he just knocked a tooth out or something. 

“What the fu—” You massage your throat, immediately unsealing your lips to take a look at your mouth. No teeth knocked out, thankfully.  “You little..”

Open-mouthed, you think over his question. “There was basil?”

“..Hm.”

“I didn’t even taste it.”

“..Hm.”

“Is there usually basil in this?”

“Hm.”

His lackluster responses make you look at him.

♡ . .  . Strange how he’s looking at you back like that. 

♡ You blink at him. He’s staring at you like you just slapped a bucket of water over him. He only snaps out of it when you wave a hand over his face and seal your lips into a questioning line, eliciting an atypical.. gulp from him. 

”I apologize.” He closes his eyes. “What were you saying?”

“There was basil in this?”

Raising his fork, the prongs glister beneath the light, sliding along the curvature of its gaps. 

"There was. If I was where you’re sitting, I’d taste it quite deftly.. Simply because,” he muses and muses.

Stab! 

Prongs are embedded into a slab of food, guillotined by steel before your eyes and shredded open into rivulets like juice. Soundlessly directing your attention to those eyes, twins of olive-brown and gold nailed down with mirth, he croons.

“..My family always believed a meal ought to be savored rather than conquered.”

There is silence crowding the contest of eye contact. 

You excuse yourself shortly.

It’s time for your next class.

♡ Malleus Draconia and Cater Diamond are standing right fucking next to you. 

♡ The sentence is melodramatic, because for someone of such a high-sounding prestige, they’ve been confined to the space of the botanical garden's verdant grounds. When does one ever get the chance to utter that? Two complete opposites standing next to one another, and oh, there’s you too, trying not to drown in your own ill-fitting, misshapen lab uniform, but chances are they don't notice, because the heir to Briar Valley is completely soaked right now!

“What's going on here, Diamond? Why is water spraying at me out of nowhere?”

♡ Yikes. Even his voice is intimidating enough to make your spine stiffen. You're practically shivering in your boots.

♡ ...No, no. Pull yourself together. Trying to sneak past him now would only invite unwanted attention. All you have to do is what everyone else at Night Raven College seems to manage effortlessly: avert your eyes, keep your head down, and scurry off before the future king notices your existence. The campus had already written the script for interactions with Malleus Draconia years ago! Fear him. Avoid him. Pretend you have somewhere else to be! 

​​​​​​♡ It had only just struck the end of Alchemy, and you'd wandered into the subtropical section of the greenhouse to collect the specimen you'd been cultivating. Stumbling into... this... certainly hadn't been part of the itinerary. Then again, they were your schoolmates. Running into them shouldn't have been surprising. (Oh, it’s only surprising because you’ve completely isolated yourself from Yuu now. Avoiding them, never lingering long enough. Something within you ceases to exit when your mind wanders back to the infirmary. Was that real? Have you gone mad?)

“It's the sprinkler system.” You don't even need to look to picture Cater's grin. “They use it for irrigation. Whole zone's got a timer that mimics subtropical rainfall. Guess nobody gave you the tour.”

“Artificial rain...” Malleus repeats, almost thoughtfully.

A gloved hand reaches into the downpour. Water gathers upon his fingertips before dripping back into the beds of foliage below. “How curious. Humans truly do possess peculiar methods of tending their gardens.”

♡ You'd like to point out that the future king of Briar Valley is currently discovering... sprinklers, but you enjoy living. Besides, everyone has gaps in their knowledge. You, for one, still don't know why Professor Trein insists on carrying Lucius into class when the cat has never once demonstrated academic aptitude. Quietly, you crouch beside one of the planter boxes. Your herb should be... there! Perfect!

♡ Nearly uprooting the entire planter, you make a beeline towards the exit! Phew, you survived that. Now you have to suffer through the remainder of your classes. 

♡ Soon enough, most of them are over, and the midterm results are to be announced very, very soon. Before that, you adhere to your job as the Night Raven mailperson. It’d be wise of you to get the job done before there’s a herd gathering, and Kalim’s voice is already etched onto your mind by the time you’re carrying the letters. 

♡ Sifting through hundreds of parchments, you realize three of them belong to.. Diasomnia residents. There’s an anonymous love letter, Kalim’s invitation card, and a letter from home! You should be able to catch them on campus if you hurry — because you’ll have to delay your plans if they're in their respective dormitories. It also makes you lament on why you even agreed to deliver the invitation card to Silver, of all people, but you have to thank Kalim for his help some way. This just happened to be the easiest. Chances are you’ll find him drowning in sleep. Can’t be that hard. 

♡ It takes you a while to find him. The hallways are brimming with people. 

♡ True to your deduction, there he is, eyes slid down in respite and chest rising with ebbs and falls. Though you don’t look at his face that long, he's still dressed in his labwear. This should be easy enough— but quickening footfalls of other students have you sifting hastily through the bag — and you pluck out the card, tucking it into his pocket. He shuffles in his sleep, lips parted, murmuring something, but you’re already running off like your hands have caught fire. . . and they may as well have. 

♡ — Because halfway up the staircase, you realize the card is still in your hand. 

. . . . ?

You blink, turning it over. It’s Kalim’s invitation card. And— Diasomnia, right there. And.. there's the letter from home. And—

♡ The fucking love letter!

♡ You’re sprinting back, nearly toppling over the staircase. You gave him the love letter! A few students eye you— no, no, no — you feel stressed tears prick at your eyes when you see Silver’s resting place devoid of any presence. He’s gone! (With the love letter still in his pocket!)

♡  . . . By the time you return, huffing and puffing, you’re frowning. How the hell did you mess that up?  Fortunately, Jade’s already there, waiting for you. Arm in arm, you walk.

“Do I need to assume?”

“No.”

♡ It’s no biggie, you think. You’ll just catch him at a later time, or have someone retrieve the letter for you. Out of every love interest, Silver should be the most compliant. You just need to focus on something else. 

♡ A tide of students, the same as before. They’re all circling what looks to be the board, and some of them part when they catch the eel’s look. There’s a rush. A stampede. Midterm results are here. Bodies are released and ejected like someone kicked open an anthill, and through the writhing masses, you catch sight of . . Yuu. Grim, Ace, and Deuce. The furball’s pointing up at the listed names, and perpetual horror slashes everyone’s faces into two. What makes you uncertain, though, is that the prefect also looks horrified. 

Why do they look horrified?

Your answer comes in the form of an anemone ripping out of their hair. 

—Anemone in the prefect’s hair. 

Why the FUCK does Yuu also have an anemone?!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sincerelyruu @tsubito @jokesterreality @gloomuraaii @eepydeepysleepy66 @k3lbug @fanofkrauser @peter-the-pan @16-shieanne-16 @danna001 @littlepotaaatosimp

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@cens0r3d @thecloudsaremyhome @sinclaironestrogen @misdreavusmischief @tragicfiend @whatdoesthesenpai @silverluna3-blog @aelxr

@lennyadinonerd @thespiderinyourroom @quiet-place-for-thoughts @00hellohello00 @alheli1994-blog @domeofquietdreams @mspurpl3 @yumuramma

Sure, the world building seemed intimidating. Overblots, dark romance, whatnot . . but you just wanted an itsy-bitsy piece of the guilty pleasure, nothing more, nothing less. It wasn’t everyday you stumbled upon a game with ridiculously well-crafted and deep characters, after all.

Well . . . now you have no purpose whatsoever, and you mean that in a philosophical sense. Before Yuu, the story goes as follows. You, the nameless villainess, were the only girl in Night Raven, naturally, somewhere in the developer's office, someone decided the pinnacle of storytelling was making two girls hate each other's guts.  It’s a concept you don’t like, even more so when all the odds are stacked against you, and sometimes it even gets tiring, because the pre-determined  dialogue and choices set for Yuu give them a somewhat timid appearance. Grow a backbone! There is an insane power imbalance, you see — and of course they’re going to need extra protection from all their knights in shining armor.

The greatest odd against you, however, is the dorm that’s been chosen for you. 

Knock, knock, knock!

Knuckles drumming against the door, you are roused from your sleep. Bright, lambent sunlight seeps in from the windows, the peak wherein your room’s inundated with a glow so much like a cherub’s tear, attacking your eyes and reminding you, you have no business being up at the ass crack at dawn.

Unless . .  

Title Unlocked — Headless Maiden.

You died! Riddle wanted it to be off with your head. Shame he took it so literally. 

You died again.

You recoil. Images. Images are what you see. A gaggle of memories flooding your brain, crimson’s brutish spread meandering down the crucible of your throat in sprays. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. And it still hurts, a burn so real you realize a scream thrashes at the apex of your tongue until it blurs into a half-choked sob of misery, where your hands are coaxed towards your esophagus, trying to alleviate the sharp phantom’s touch. You have sprung upright, and the bed creaking beneath the sudden weight reminds you someone is still knocking at your door, the door to your room, the room where you’ve died so many times..

The room that’s now stripped of everything. 

Everything is white, as is every respawn. Every single trinket, achievement or personal belonging has now been reset, making you stare at a swathe of the sort of white you’d find in hospitals or an asylum’s padded room. No!  You’d worked so hard at Crisp ‘n dips trying to afford that one lipstick, and now it’s all gone. Every single thing you’d worked your bones off for are nowhere to be seen, thrown into the system’s savage bin, and once again, you suppress a bitter laugh from bubbling over, they truly spare you no pity. 

“Miss?”

Miss. That’s what they call you here. Miss, because you have no name attached to you. Shuffling off your bed and realizing just how enervated you must look, you slowly open the door, peaking through the gap. 

Luckily, it’s just a second year. 

“Housewarden Schoenheit wants everyone to be up and ready. Take a shower, trim your nails, iron your orientation robes.. And—er..”

“And make sure not a single strand is overlooked.”

“Yes, that’s right!”

Your respawn point is orientation. Well, before it. Due to such unadulterated generosity, you are given a few hours of respite before all hell breaks loose and takes you up into its flames. 

A few hours.