#dani writes

Thump, thump, thump.

Sylus wondered if you could hear his heart beating out of his chest as he carried you to his room. Did you feel it fluttering under his skin as you pushed him onto the couch? As you mounted his lap, did you get a peek behind the mask he donned just for you that night? Sylus, who was cocky and confident by nature, felt as if he was about to come undone. He couldn't bear to show you how nervous he was and he hoped that he was still coming across as his normal, laidback self.

He had been on his best behavior since you left the N109 Zone after the auction. He realized, almost too late, that he was pushing you too far and too fast. As he watched you leave for Linkon, he made a pact with himself to let you set the pace. Sylus refused to let his own greed and desire get in the way of finally being with you again. He made his intentions clear with you whenever he could, never shying away from admitting how much he cared for you. But at the same time, he did his best to not pressure you into reciprocating those feelings. He was simply happy that you allowed his unabashed flirting. Sylus wanted to make it clear to you that if you were ever ready, he would be waiting for your with open arms. Now, he could finally admit to himself that his restraint had paid off. Despite his actions during your first trip to the N109 Zone, you were finally starting to trust him. Maybe even more than trust him, as evidenced by the fact that he was currently underneath you.

Before he had enough time to process his thoughts on the matter, you were pressing your lips to his. With that simple action, the mask that Sylus had worked so hard to keep in place that night shattered. His first instinct was that he must be dreaming, he was only ever lucky enough to kiss you in dreams, both in this life and his last. His second instinct was to devour you. Before he could act on this impulse, he was proud that he remembered his decision to let you set the pace. He refused to scare you off by being overzealous. He could've spent hours on that couch, hands roaming each other's bodies, only pulling away from the other's lips when one of you needed to breathe. And that was exactly what he planned to do. That is until you asked him to move to the bed.

Sylus decided, as you wrapped your legs around him and he carried you across the room, that his plan needed to change. He could no longer afford to be patient, he already knew how this could end and he still awoke from nightmares with a phantom pain in his chest to remind him. If Sylus could finally have you, and not in some twisted, soul-bound dream, he would do everything in his power to make the most of this moment. But as he laid you down on the bed, he couldn't help but retreat into his own paranoia. In the haze of your touch, he had forgotten the implications of you being with him. Your career, your freedom, everything you had worked for could be gone just by being with him here tonight. He had hurt you, kidnapped you, forced you to resonate. He could almost laugh at how incredulous it sounded, one of the top hunters in bed with the Association's most wanted criminal. If he was finally coming to this realization, he worried that you would follow suit. Could he really be this selfish? His hands were moving before his brain could overwhelm him with the guilt.

He did the only thing he could think to do: cover your eyes and tell you not to look. It seemed almost juvenile, like playing peek-a-boo with a child. But what other option did he have? Lest you open your eyes and see not your kindred spirit, but the monster this incarnation of you has come to know. He wouldn't survive the pain of you regretting this, couldn't live with the thought that you might change your mind. Sylus hoped that if he could just keep you from looking at him, you might not see all of his faults. The desire to feel his love reciprocated by you was drowning him. He made a valiant effort to keep his hands over your eyes until he was so drunk on the feeling of your body under him that he lost sight of his goal to keep you in the dark. As his hands finally got another chance to explore you, he felt his mask slip back into place, his smug demeanor finally back. It certainly helped when you made your own greed known. Sylus allowed himself permission to be greedy back, and with your consent, he was ready to swallow you whole.

His joy lasted for what felt like a millisecond, before he felt your hand on his chest, pushing him away. A voice in the back of his mind reared its ugly head and sneered, of course she would come to her senses, why would she want a monster like you. Bile rose in the back of his throat, but he pushed through. With his last breath before his mask broke yet again, he asked if you truly wanted to stop. To his disbelief and delight, you answered him by pulling him into another kiss. He spent the rest of the night worshipping you, taking every crumb that you gave him and savoring it like it was his last meal. For all he knew, it could have been.

In the morning, he woke to you in his arms and he didn't bother to hide his happiness. You stayed and that was all that mattered. After a quick shower to wash the last few hours off of him, Sylus had fully expected to crawl back in bed with you until he had to leave. Instead, he was greeted by a cold bed and an empty room. You were gone. He didn't know if you had finally decided that being with him was a mistake, or maybe you had just used him to blow off some steam. Whatever the reason, at least you weren't there to see him fall to his knees. It was almost a relief, really, that you finally comprehended just how ill-fated a relationship between the two of you would be. Sylus surely wasn't strong enough or selfless enough to let you go, even if that would have been best for you. He made peace with the fact that he would just have to beg you for any scrap of yourself that you could give him, if only so he would have a reason to stay by your side.

His downward spiral was interrupted by a car horn blaring outside of his window. He couldn't help but smile as he peered through the glass and saw you waiting outside in the car. When he made his way outside, he certainly couldn't hide his surprise when you made your intentions to stand by his side clear. It was almost pathetic, how quickly you could change his mood. He was like a puppy, when you called he came running. Maybe he could've tried harder to stop himself from kissing you right then and there, but what would be the point? He was sure you could hear his heart confessing to you on his behalf anyway, with its incessant thump, thump, thump.

Need to choose a winner's room scenario between concussed Cody getting fucked by Punk and calling him Randy while semi-conscious and breaking poor Punk's little heart…

OR

Peace. Wisdom. Control, I repeat to myself over and over again, rocking back and forth on my heels. Hold it together. Draw her back in. Settle her in the center of my forehead, where she slumbers in my third eye, waiting to burst forth when I need her again.

She is you, and you are her. One and the same. Peace. Wisdom. Control.

I let out a thin jet of air through my pursed lips, trying to calm myself. Suguru sweeps back the wild curls that shield my face, his fingers cool against the warmth of my cheeks. She is you.

"You did well, Siddhi," he reassures, drawing me close and holding me tight, "Very well. Your control is improving every day."

The breath that leaves my mouth is shaky, but I nod against Suguru's chest. I settle myself to the even rhythm of his heartbeat, the steady rise and fall of his chest. And you are her.

"Siddhi-chan! You did it!" Satoru's voice cuts in, a jarring shout in the otherwise silent warehouse. One and the same.

"Satoru, keep it down," I distantly hear Suguru scold. Squeezing my eyes shut, I reach up toward where I can feel Satoru's energy. I don't hear his snarky response to Suguru, but I do feel his hand slip into mine and give it a comforting squeeze. Peace. Wisdom. Control.

My heartbeat eases, slowing and allowing my lungs to expand and release again. I'm safe. The curses are gone. I controlled her. My wrath was released, but for the first time ever in the midst of battle, I managed to pull her back within just when I needed to. No extended rampages, no innocents hurt, no unnecessary terror. I did it.

"Ready to go back to the school?" Suguru offers when he senses my anxiety dissipating. I nod enthusiastically, letting him help me off the ground. I’m certainly ready to vacate this smelly, stuffy warehouse.

"Sensei will be proud of you, Siddhi-chan," Satoru puts forth, tousling my already wild hair, "And he'll be proud of your very capable upperclassmen who taught you so well!"

As ridiculous as he’s being, Satoru is right. Yaga Sensei will be proud, a thought that puts a smile on my face. And without Satoru and Suguru, I would not have been able to achieve what I have today. For so long, I've struggled with the curse I house in my very soul; the one who emerges at the slightest sign of danger and whose wrath could level a city if I'm not too careful. But the two boys standing by my side have worked with me over the months to temper her. To even go so far as to befriend the other part of me.

"We should celebrate," I suggest, allowing myself to be happy about this win.

"With daifuku!" Satoru exclaims, to which Suguru rolls his eyes.

"You should be proud of yourself, Siddhi," is all the dark-haired sorcerer adds. I smile up at Suguru, whose soft beam fills my heart with unbridled joy. This is one of the last happy memories I have of him, and it is one that visits me often. When we emerge out of the warehouse and onto the bright streets of Tokyo, I close my eyes, basking in the sun and the presence of my two closest friends.

When I open my eyes again, I am twenty-eight, sitting in the school courtyard, listening to the distant sound of activity stirring in the hallways. It has been eleven years since that day in the warehouse, since I've gained any semblance of control over the other half of me. And it has been ten years since Suguru left us. This is the memory that I meditate on most. It is one of the memories I have that grounds me, anchoring me to reality, reminding me of who I am and how I came to be.

I haven't had an incident in all these ten years because of the advice Satoru and Suguru both gave me: befriend the Rage to understand her. Walk hand-in-hand with her. The further away you push her, the less control you can exercise over her, and the more wrathful she will become.

That and meditate. Meditating helps, too. In the mornings, Yuta and I meditate together - a recent development that has proven beneficial for us both. Yuta has been working hard these last several weeks to gain control over Rika. Every morning at dawn, we meet up in the courtyard and head to the field. Out in the grass, with the crisp morning air and the faint blue of the coming morning, we settle our minds. We sit in silence until the sun has turned the sky peach pink and gold. I end my meditation with a small prayer, and Yuta and I scurry in for breakfast. It’s been a good opportunity for us to bond, even if no words are shared. I’ve been pleased with his progress and grateful for his company.

In the afternoons, I am usually left to my own devices while Satoru trains with the students. I take this time to sit in the courtyard of the school, close my eyes, and listen to the world around me. I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, or the cool kiss of rain. I smell the blooming cherry blossoms in the air or the crisp scent of turning leaves in autumn. I maintain my calm amidst the flood of memories that spring to my mind, painful or otherwise.

And most importantly, I somehow manage to keep my cool despite Satoru's various interruptions.

"Siddhiiiii," his voice whines, a shadow suddenly blocking the sunlight from my face. Seconds later, Satoru's face is hovering upside down in front of mine. He is bent over me from behind, his lanky form almost spiderlike as he peers at me from beneath his blindfold.

"Hmm?" is all I return, still lifting myself out of the hazy serenity I'd managed to find.

"Did I scare you?" he smirks.

"Were you trying to?" I retort with a smile equally as sly. Satoru’s excuse for sneaking up on me while I meditate is to “test” me, to make sure I can stay calm. I think he just does it to vex me. Little does he know, his interruptions are generally my favorite way to end a successful meditation session. His smile always manages to chase away the painful nostalgia of our teenage years.

Satoru shrugs, raising himself up again before offering me a hand. He pulls me up with ease, adding, "We need to talk."

His voice is barely above a whisper, his smirk falling away.

"Is one of the students hurt?" I venture, worry striking my heart. My mind immediately goes to Okkotsu and Inumaki. They had a mission today, and I haven’t seen them since early this morning. It was supposed to be a simple mission, or relatively simple. But anything can happen with curses. Satoru shakes his head, which sends a flood of relief through me. But his seriousness brings a new anxiety.

"Let's go to my room," I offer, my voice quivering, before I lead him to my quarters.

“Suguru’s residuals?” I question, my tone incredulous. Satoru nods, his mouth a tense line.

“At the shopping center,” he continues, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall of my bedroom. We are sheltered in silence, far from prying eyes and curious ears. My quarters sit at the back of the school grounds, private and detached. It has always served as a perfect place for us to meet without drawing too much suspicion.

“But that means-” I start, but the words dry up on my tongue. He’s sending curses after students? Was that a calculated move on his part, or some sort of coincidence? First the elementary school, now this. My stomach sinks. I saw Suguru once after he defected: it was six years ago, and it was a confusing encounter that I don’t care to dwell on for too long. Since then, Satoru and I have heard rumors of his whereabouts, none of them officially confirmed. Whispers about his religious cult flit through the communication pathways of the other sorcerers, but nothing ever seems to be substantiated. Until now.

I don’t want it to be true, but in my heart, I know the path Suguru walks is one rife with atrocities. But to go after children?

“He’s gearing up for something,” I posit, my forehead tired from scrunching my brows together. My jaw hurts with worry.

“What, though?” Satoru returns, tilting his head back and staring up at the ceiling. I wish I could answer his query, but I can’t, so I merely shake my head.

“God only knows,” I defeatedly return. Satoru peels himself away from the wall and glides over to where I am now slumped on the bed. He slips his blindfold off, dangling it casually on his index finger. When his piercing blue gaze meets mine, it softens.

“Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it,” he reassures, his tone confident despite the flash of worry that crosses his face. I pass him a soft smile, mostly as a courtesy and not because I’m necessarily feeling anymore at ease with his words.

“Other than Suguru,” I go on, as if Suguru really were an afterthought and not the main topic of our conversation, “How did Yuta do?”

“He did well,” Satoru proudly explains, “Freaked out a little at first, but Toge said he did well in the end. I knew he had it in him. Never doubted him for a second!”

I chuckle at his self-congratulatory words, my fingers finding their way to the nape of his neck. His hair there is prickly and soft from his undercut, and when I lean closer, I find comfort in the calming, sweet scent of his cologne. He silently welcomes my touch, returning the favor by resting his hand on my knee and tracing slow, purposeful circles. For a moment, I forget the agony that roils inside us both. In the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through my paper pane windows, I’m brought back to days of gentle idleness. Rare moments in our high school days when we thought we had the whole of our lives in front of us. Days where I wasn’t worried about a future apart from Satoru or Suguru, because that possibility had never even occurred to me.

I don't know what we were; Satoru, Suguru, and I. I wish I could pinpoint an exact feeling; a label for the three of us. But when I look back at those years we spent together, there is only a vague sense of serenity; a hazy memory of the summer of our youth. A spring breeze carrying perfumed flowers through the air; a soft caress in the open hallways. A gilded summer afternoon; cicadas humming and the sun bathing us in tranquil warmth; limbs tangled despite the heat. Autumn leaves crunching under feet; the crisp bite of winter on the tips of our noses; secret kisses exchanged behind the shelter of a cherry tree. And then bitter winter, when everything changed, and three became two.  

Suguru's absence has felt more like a death than an estrangement. Satoru and I mourned him as if he had passed. These last ten years have not been easy, but the two of us have muddled our way through them. And through our muddling, my relationship with Satoru has bloomed and grown ever deeper- though secretive it remains. We have made a life for ourselves without Suguru, though his memory is painful and one we reserve discussing only on the rarest occasions.

I suppose this is one of those rare occasions.

“Siddhi?” Satoru ventures after a while, his voice a hush in the afternoon haze. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. The pale-haired sorcerer opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it again. I know what he wants to ask. I know what sits on the tip of his tongue, for it is the same question that sits on the tip of mine.

Where did we go wrong? What could we have done to stop Suguru? To help Suguru?

Or was it all inevitable?

I can’t answer, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to. I certainly haven’t come to any conclusions in the last ten years. So, I settle for leaning against my closest friend, my dearest companion, and the one who occupies my heart. Satoru rests his head against mine, turning slightly to ghost a kiss against my temple. Our souls are bound; I can feel his ebbing and flowing through my own. What we lost in Suguru’s absence we have found in each other, though there is still an unmistakable void. I wonder how long it will take for that hole to heal.

Either way, the inevitable is approaching. With winter will come strife; I can feel it in my bones. And in the end, I know it will be either us or Suguru left to greet the coming spring.