aquamarine dollhouse

──ཐི ྐ( ᶠᶸᶜᵏ ᵧₒᵤ! )ཋྀ ྐ─•── ཐི ྐ❛❛ Blah. ❜❜ཋྀ ྐ Sticks his tongue out.

A slow, wicked smile spread across Saiko’s face as he squeezed her hand, her dark eyes flashing with sharp, hungry fascination. The way he spoke of letting a madman roam the earth just to watch his own legacy distort and morph into myth—it was delightfully depraved.

"Watching a madman rewrite your history..." she echoed, her voice dropping into a low, purring murmur. "How decadently cruel of you. Though I suppose truth is such a tedious thing when rumors make for far more poetic chaos."

She didn't pull her hand back as he squeezed it, instead flexing her long fingers against his palm, letting the cool touch linger between them as they walked. The playful lilt in his tone about keeping each other warm made a low, amused hum vibrate in her throat.

"I have no doubt we'll manage," she drawled softly.

When he confirmed his current identity as Ciro and admitted to getting sidetracked by folklore—specifically stories of a certain woman up in a shrine—Saiko stopped dead in her tracks, her crimson-painted lips curving into a sharp, knowing smirk. She turned her body toward him, the shift in her stance deliberate and graceful as she tugged gently on their clasped hands, forcing him to halt alongside her.

"Folklore behind dishes... and a woman up in a shrine," Saiko repeated, tilting her head as her gaze locked onto his with dangerous intimacy. "So it wasn't mere coincidence that brought you wandering up my path, was it, Ciro? You came looking for a story... and found the monster behind it instead."

Her thumb stroked the back of his hand in a slow, possessive rhythm before she stepped a fraction closer, her dark eyes gleaming with an unholy light under the dim night sky.

"I’ll hold you to that promise of meeting your other faces on another date," she whispered, her tone laced with heavy flirtation and unspoken threat. "But as for tonight... since 'Ciro' took the trouble to track down the shrine maiden of local legends, I'd say you've earned more than just stories. Tell me... what is it you expected to find when you walked up those steps?"

He was not at all surprised when she suddenly stopped; halting also and staring down at her with a knowing gaze. "It was a partial coincidence. Whether you believe that or not - I shall leave it up to you."

They'd rather the truth hang in the air, high above the clouds where neither could touch it.

"Ciro may have been looking for a story - but I... well, I've already stated what I wanted."

As she closed the gap between them, he took their intertwined hands and lifted them to his lips, pressing a kiss upon the back of her cool palm, his warm hand holding her with no intent on letting go.

"I do not think about too hard about what I want." He smiled, deep brown eyes once again turning a soft yellow colour within the blink of an eye. "I enjoy companionship and the stories of others who are long lived. So it does excite me to know your true story. I could sense something in the air - and I simply needed to see to believe it." He steps closer, closing in the space between them, leaning down so that his next words could be whispered into her ear.

Saiko’s dark eyes gleamed with razor-sharp interest at his mention of an extra challenge. She liked a game with teeth.

"An extra challenge?" she mused, her crimson lips curving into a slow, tantalizing smile as she kept pace beside him. "Do try your best, Ciro. Nothing dulls my appetite faster than a trick that’s too easily solved."

As he described the human whose fear twisted so violently it broke into joy, a soft, approving purr resonated in her throat. He understood the art of psychological ruin in a way few could fathom.

"Fear snapping into euphoria... now that is an exquisite breakdown," Saiko murmured, her gaze lingering on his profile. "When the human mind realizes salvation is impossible, it scrambles for any escape—even madness. I’ve watched a few break like glass in my palm. It’s intoxicating, isn't it?"

When Ciro extended his hand with that playful suggestion of holding hands to stay warm, Saiko didn't hesitate. She didn't just take his hand; she let her long, dark-manicured fingers slide deliberately between his, her grip cool, firm, and possessing a faint, subtle strength that reminded him exactly what kind of creature he was walking alongside.

"If it keeps us warm, how could I possibly refuse?" she drawled, her tone laced with heavy, playful irony as her fingers locked with his.

She felt the dramatic gesture as he placed his free hand over his chest like a vow, matching her step for step. Saiko tilted her head slightly, her thumb lightly brushing the back of his hand.

"A vow of friendship from someone who wears so many faces..." she whispered, her dark eyes locking onto his brown ones with dangerous fascination. "Tell me then, Ciro—as my dear, steadfast friend... which face am I holding hands with right now?"

"Don't worry. I'm sure to think of something that can keep you entertained." After all, they also had the same issue of finding new ways to stay active all these years of living as well. A common problem with their kind.

The blonde chuckles upon seeing her excitement upon hearing the very brief story of that person. "It is rather fun. For once I thought it'd be interesting to have that person roam the Earth for a little more. If they lost their mind upon seeing me, I wonder how much they remember of it all - and what stories they want to spread the word of over time. Watching my own history getting rewritten by a madman is quite an enjoyable past time."

As their hands intertwined, he gave her own a small squeeze as if in silent thanks for accepting his offer, continuing to have his award winning smile in her direction.

"I'm sure with the two of us keeping one another company as so, we will manage to stay warm throughout the rest of this night~"

When she mentioned destroying his shirt, the faint, dry curve returned to his lips. "I certainly can," he murmured smoothly, casting a brief, indifferent glance down at the damp tear stains darkening the fabric over his chest. "Though I doubt tears are enough to ruin a silk blend."

Her small plea—for him not to laugh because she’d look 'ugly'—was met with complete silence. No mockery, no light teasing. As she finally sat up and kept her head bowed, Akio reached into his inner jacket pocket, withdrawing a clean, folded white handkerchief.

Instead of handing it to her, he stepped just a fraction closer, kneeling on one knee beside the edge of the bed so he was sitting slightly lower than her.

"I don't laugh at people who have survived what you have," Akio said softly, his deep voice remarkably gentle despite its usual cool edge. He extended his hand, lightly placing the soft cloth into her palm. "And there is nothing 'ugly' about feeling relief after a lifetime of carrying a weight alone."

He waited patiently as she asked the question that truly mattered: What do I even do after all this? What is there for me to do?

Akio rested his hands loosely over his knee, his dark eyes fixed intently on her face, completely unbothered by her red, tear-stained eyes.

"First," Akio replied calmly, "you breathe. You rest, and you let your body realize that it no longer needs to be in survival mode."

He tilted his head slightly, his expression shifting into something quietly calculating, yet protective.

Hearing movement, she stopped rubbing her red eyes for a moment to find she was now in the position where she was looking down at him, feeling a little awkward and shy as he passed her the handkerchief, silently accepting it to wipe her face with.

"I can rest..." She echoed, looking down at the cloth in her hands and holding it tightly, stretching it out a little. It still didn't feel like she could rest. He was right - she was in survival mode - even now. "That will take me a while to do." She added with a dry, forced laugh.

As he spoke, there was still a ticking voice in the back of her head that made everything he offered sounded like it came with a price. There was no way anyone could give her all that choice for free. There was always a 'but'. Always a hidden clause. She stared at him with some distrust, expression shifting to look a little more sad at the final question.

What she wanted?

Still not looking at him, she continues to stare at the handkerchief, letting the silence hang in the room for several long seconds before she shifts her attention down at him, forcing a smile.

Always tired? Carmichael raises his eyebrows in disbelief, heart stirring with concern.  Falling asleep in a public place and losing track of time.. That wasn’t normal. But it wasn’t his place to voice his opinion.  Not that he had the space to give it— Viktoria’d sent a question his way. He replaces his surprised expression with a look of placidity. 

“Oh! Oh, no, I’ve actually traveled to very many places. Just never by bus.” Not by train, car, or plane, either.  By foot— And many, many years ago.  “But. . That was some time ago.  In fact, I’ll bet most of those places have changed a great deal since I last visited.”

Carmichael’s last sentence is spoken with melancholy, and his eyes look misty as he revisits his past in his mind.  It lasts only a moment, though, and he returns to that state of tranquility. He tosses the ball back into her court as he tilts his head in her direction to ask his own question. 

"Not by bus.....?" She pauses her stride for a moment and looks around the town, taking a moment to question. "Do you.. drive then? Since it sounds like there's not really... a big... travel hub?" Considering he had said there was only one bus per day and she was the last one; it only made sense he knew how to drive - at least to her.

"Oh... you should travel again if you do get.. the chance." She nods slowly as if agreeing with her own statement.

A low, melodious laugh bubbled past Saiko’s lips as she matched his stride, her dark eyes flashing with a wicked, amused light. She didn't miss the subtle dip in his voice or the deliberate drop into a deeper register—a little display of power that only made her inner predator purr in approval.

"A guessing game?" she mused, slanting a glance upward at the blonde man beside her, her crimson-painted lips curving into a sharp, knowing smile. "Be careful what you offer. I’m notoriously good at unraveling little secrets... and I rarely lose."

As he brought up human fear and the way trauma skews memory, Saiko let out a soft hum of agreement. The way he spoke of humans as fragile, unreliable creatures of survival echoed her own dark philosophy so neatly. It was delicious.

"Exaggerated, misremembered, or completely rewritten," she murmured softly, her tone dripping with dark satisfaction. "Humans are so delightfully fragile when terror takes hold. They cling to whatever illusion keeps their hearts beating a few seconds longer."

When he quipped about catching a cold—and the unspoken truth that illness was a human weakness neither of them suffered from—her smile widened, sharp and alluring.

"Catching a cold? Oh, what a tragic horror that would be," Saiko purred, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

As he fell into step right beside her, offering his sincere friendship, Saiko tilted her head slightly toward him, her gaze locking onto his brown eyes with total confidence.

"I do so love a man who doesn't run," she said softly, stepping ahead just enough to guide them down the path, her hips swaying with deliberate, graceful cadence. "Follow close then, my fearless friend. Let's get us out of this damp air before we 'catch something'."

"If that is the case, I'll be sure to add a little bit of an extra challenge for you right from the start." They did have quite the roster of identities to switch from; but surely they would figure out how to trick her a few times.

"Exactly. I've had humans beg on their knees for a few more seconds of life - but those were undeserving of any praise. The one who lasted the longest felt so much fear it turned into joy - have you ever met someone who's emotions twisted in such an interesting way?"

"Ah, it would be quite a shame if you were to get sick. Should we hold hands to keep each other a little bit warmer?" His tone is teasing; and he does in fact extend his hand in her direction once more. Aside from a simple offering he doesn't plan to press any further; but his innate curiousity wonders if she would take it or not.