#plot: ripple effect

Eichio had also been busy. With everything that has happened, he wanted nothing more than to be constantly occupied with something to do. If he was useful to others, he could push his thoughts about failing his lusus aside. He had stuck mostly to remaining at Mister Espino’s hive, with the exception of a short outing to visit Ullane to help her with a medical experiment. But seeing her had unfortunately made him feel worse. She wanted him to play some music for her as part of the experiment, but his heart just wasn’t into it. He felt awful for failing her, no matter how much she reassured him that it was okay to have ‘off’ nights, but he couldn’t convince her to let him try again either. He left her clinic upset and disappointed, both at her for not letting him finish the job for her and at himself for feeling that way, even if he never told her out loud.

He couldn’t go home and face his lusus, and he didn’t want to see his friends at the moment either. He was trying to avoid Gerrel when he could as well, at risk of losing his temper at his co-worker yet again. Right now, he only felt comfortable around his boss.

Said boss had just knocked on the open door to the laundry, where Eichio was currently sorting some freshly-dried clothes. The yellowblood looked up at the sound, attention pulled away from finding the pairs for each sock.

“Eichio, would you care to join me for lunch?” Viltau asked, and held up a plate of sandwiches cut into quarters for emphasis.

“Oh, okay, sure. Is it okay if I leave these where they are?” He smiles tiredly in response.

“That is fine.”

Eichio dutifully followed the indigoblood back upstairs to the main dining room, and waited for Mister Espino to set the sandwiches on the table before he took a seat. The table was fit to seat twenty people, but despite the amount of space available Eichio always took the seat to the left of Viltau whenever they ate together. Which was an event that became more common recently, given his boss’ insistence on making sure his guest ate at least three meals every night. 

It was probably the most Eichio had eaten in recent memory. He was prone to skipping meals whenever he had more important things to attend to, or if he’d made too many mistakes in one night that he felt like he didn’t deserve dinner. All behaviour that was encouraged by his lusus. 

“The first four are chicken caesar; then a classic BLT; then a simple tuna and cucumber; then finally a turkey, brie, and cranberry.” Viltau gestured to each set of four sandwiches as he listed the ingredients. “Please, do help yourself.”

He takes one of each and sets them on his own plate. Eichio follows suit, out of politeness to not ignore any of the dishes his boss had carefully prepared for lunch. There was no reason for him to have prepared so many different sandwiches, but the yellowblood also knows Viltau would have done it solely because of his own indecisiveness regarding what he wanted to eat. What most people would call a ‘waste of food’, Viltau would see as a fun culinary experience.

And if there was anything left over, he would offer it to his employees to take home for later. Just like what Gerrel offered to do that time. 

“Thank you,” Eichio says, and takes the pitcher of ice water off the table to pour both of them a drink. Then he finally sits down.

The two ate in relative silence, one not having any conversation they were willing to impart on the other, and the other simply having nothing to say at all aside from giving their compliments to the chef. The food was nice as always, the bread baked to perfection and careful attention given to how much butter should be spread to enhance the flavours of the fillings without overpowering them. The bacon is crispy and the other meats not overly chewy, the greens are crisp and fresh, the cheeses artisanal, and the condiments made from scratch. If he had time to make things himself and he was confident they would be just as good if not better than store-bought, Viltau saw no reason to not make his own.

 As Eichio nibbled his way through his tuna and cucumber sandwich, his thoughts drifted away from the quality of the meal, and back towards what - or who - he was abandoning in favour of enjoying a nice lunch with his boss.

He can’t stay here forever. He has to go back and confront his lusus at some point, and the longer he puts it off, the angrier his custodian will become. His lusus can hunt for itself, sure, and it knows which windows in the hive it’s able to slide open so it can go out looking for food. It’s perfectly capable of looking after itself, but it still expects Eichio to be there. He dreads the rant he’ll have to hear about leaving his dad to starve while he gallivanted off with that annoying soft employer of his. A good boss wouldn’t be cooking for his employees and letting them take time off work, they know how to keep their workers in their place. 

He can’t keep taking advantage of his boss’ kindness like this. He can’t keep avoiding his responsibilities like this. His lusus doesn’t need him, but he needs to be there for it. He needs to just suck it up and accept the well-deserved anger that will be launched towards him, just like he used to.

“Mister Espino,” Eichio puts down the sandwich in his hands. “I think I should go home soon.”

He glances over at his boss, who for a split second seems surprised by his words. 

“Hm, I see. And why do you think that?”

The indigoblood looks over at Eichio, his voice calm as always while his eyes reflect a glint of curiosity. It can be difficult to tell exactly what he’s thinking at times, but the neurons are definitely firing off right now. 

“Oh, well…” The pressure of having his boss stare at him erodes Eichio’s confidence, and he ends up staring down at his half-eaten sandwich on the plate. “It’s been nice living here, and you’ve been really kind, really! But… I think if I stay much longer my lusus might be angry that I’ve taken so long to come home.” 

“He’ll be angry regardless, no?” 

A quick and very deliberate response from Viltau stops Eichio in his tracks. He is right, his lusus is always angry… He doesn’t wait for a response from the yellowblood, and continues.

“Of course, it is very understandable to be concerned. No doubt this is the longest you have been away from your custodian, no?”

Eichio nods, guilt present in his eyes. That look does not deter the other troll.

“In that case, would it not be best to wait a little longer? With how volatile he can be, perhaps it may be best to ensure as much time has passed for his emotions to settle. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. For all we know, he may come to discover how much your absence pains him, and he might learn to be just a little kinder!”

For as assured as Viltau’s words may be, Eichio is not sure if he’s convinced. That sounds so… Easy. All he needed to do was just leave for a period of time, and his problems would be solved on their own? Not to mention, he doesn’t think he could ever picture his lusus being kind, as upsetting as that train of thought is. But, when he looks over at Viltau, he doesn’t see a liar. He sees someone who knows how to say the exact words people want to hear, someone who exudes confidence, and someone Eichio can trust. The indigoblood, in turn, only smiles. He knows when he’s struck gold. 

“Or, perhaps it may be better to think of it this way: By not returning hive so quickly, you are, in a way, standing up for yourself, don’t you think? This can be your way of proving that you are independent and capable of doing things on your own, and that you are not willing to bow to demands that are legitimately unreasonable. It’s always a good thing to set boundaries and then enforce them, no?”

In their initial discussions about Eichio’s lusus, Gerrel had mentioned thinking it would be best if Eichio could learn to stand up against the creature. And if Gerrel had told this to Viltau, then he almost certainly would have had this discussion with Eichio.

There is a look of recognition on the yellowblood’s face upon hearing that argument, but he fails to miss Viltau’s gaze taking on a hint of slyness before the indigo breaks eye contact to take a sip of his drink. Another calculated move on his part.

“Oh, is it?” Eichio tilts his head slightly, considering the proposition. Is this what Gerrel meant when he said that his lusus only has as much power as he gives it? Thinking about it, there was no way his lusus could have stopped him from simply never going home. It has no power over Eichio here, and it knows it. The ball is in Eichio’s court now, he could go home now and return to be constantly under the wing of the parrot-chameleon hybrid, or he could keep doing what he’s doing now. Neither option feels particularly good to him, but if he had to choose…

Mister Espino has always been the better role model. Eichio’s tired smile seems a little brighter upon coming to that conclusion.

“Okay, maybe I’ll stay a little longer. Is that okay? I can do whatever you need to make up for me imposing on you for so long.” He sounds a little less troubled now, more reassured that he might be making the better decision.

“That is perfectly fine, Eichio. Take as much time as you need, I do understand the unusual circumstances for your imposition. And, there is no need to work any harder than you already do. I require no payment of your time or literal funding.”

Was that, for a brief moment, a look of relief?

“Thank you, Mister Espino.” Content and feeling a bit more perked up than he did before, Eichio picks up his sandwich again and resumes eating his lunch. 

Viltau also went back to the sandwiches that had been left neglected on his plate. Manipulating Eichio was far too easy that it provided no entertainment to him whatsoever, he’s far too trusting of the indigoblood and inclined to agree with everything he says. But there was still a chance this newfound knowledge that he is capable of making his own decisions will cause all of Viltau’s plans to be for naught. No matter what, Eichio cannot return to his hive until Gliese has been caught, it’s simply far too risky. He doesn’t want to play the role of the bad boss and trap Eichio within his hive with no desire to escape, doing anything that even remotely resembles the tactics of his lusus could jeopardise their working relationship. That was what concerned the indigoblood above all else, he could not lose his best employee.

It knew it could not say anything while Gerrel was still present in the hive, so it stayed quiet. It waited until he was gone and there was no way he could possibly be within earshot of the hive before it finally confronted its charge.

How dare Eichio bring such a conniving, insolent, liar into this hive. Is this the kind of company he truly wants to keep? That redblood had the nerve to slander his poor lusus, and he did nothing to defend it? No, he stood there and cried like a child. How pathetic, trying to manipulate someone into sympathising with him over some imaginary enemy by shedding tears, instead of admitting he’s too sensitive to handle proper criticism. Is this really the kind of troll his lusus raised? Is this how he repays his father, after how hard it has worked to raise him to be a perfect lowblood? He should be ashamed of himself.

Gerrel was no longer allowed to visit anymore. In fact, the hybrid lusus could no longer trust Eichio to allow any company. Perhaps if he had been better at choosing good connections, he would not have to be punished like this. 

Eichio kept his head down in shame as his lusus continued to verbally tear into him, and apologised for his misbehaviour. 

He knew now that he should not have to accept this treatment, and his lusus only has as much power as he will let it. But it did a damn good job at making him feel powerless. 

He was not as powerless as he thought, though. The seeds of doubt had taken root in his mind, and began to sprout. But as they flourished, the environment in his hive grew more toxic.

He couldn’t tell if his lusus was more present or if he had just never noticed how oppressive it’s presence was. It was always there, always watching from the moment he woke up to the moment he left for work, and then from the moment he returned to the moment he went to bed. He couldn’t do anything but work, either, as it would question why he needed to leave the hive so badly and what was taking him so long to get home. Was he afraid of his lusus? Or does he know he’s acting out and deliberately trying to avoid taking responsibility for his actions? 

Eichio just wanted to buy groceries. 

As time went on, the atmosphere became more and more stifling. His lusus became more critical than ever, finding even the tiniest ways to berate Eichio just for the sake of maintaining control - or had the yellowblood’s eyes just been opened to how poorly he was treated? It sickened him, constantly finding himself second-guessing and over-analysing every single interaction he had with the hybrid animal. Hypervigilant to the point where his own anxiety was making him physically ill, which would leave him vulnerable to more tongue-lashings from being anxious.

He resented Gerrel for making him aware of this, for causing his relationship with his lusus to become more strained and his mental health to spiral. But he also longed for the fresh air of the balcony, to be able to weep openly in front of him without being reprimanded. To grab onto his wrist for comfort, and hear his reassuring words again. 

Work, then, became Eichio’s only solace. He was away from the suffocating atmosphere of his hive, and could knuckle down and focus solely on his job as a distraction. Mister Espino’s hive has never been so clean. He was practically feverish in his work ethic, scrubbing the ballroom tiles as if his helplessness would also be washed away with the industrial cleaner. Trimming hedges to cut away the shame and guilt of being suspicious of his lusus. Rearranging the bookshelves in the library to put his frazzled nerves back in order.

As hard as he worked, he couldn’t hide how the stress of his home life was taking its toll. He was sleeping even less than usual, if his lusus wasn’t waking him up early to get him to redo the previous night’s chores he was awake all day fearing the sound of the hybrid’s claws scratching at his bedroom door. He was so, so careful to not make mistakes and clue anyone into his situation that his work pace suffered. His hands trembled if he couldn’t keep them occupied, his conversations more stilted and relied on basic formalities that didn’t require a lot of effort to focus on. His smile was a special kind of hollow.

He was back in the library tonight. The books had been reorganised in a way that Mister Espino had approved of, arranged by genre, then time period, and then by author’s surname. This mixed in his boss’ prized first editions with the newer copies of books, producing an aesthetically appealing mishmash of classic and modern while also letting the indigoblood know of what original editions he was still missing. His boss loved his collection, but was also more than happy to throw things out if they had a more valuable replacement. Eichio, on the other hand, wasn’t very good at letting things go.

He was so focused on eliminating every speck of dust off the shelves with the cleaning cloth that he didn’t hear the familiar sound of expensive Oxford shoes against the marble-tiled floor, stopping at the borderline between the entryway and the plush carpet of the library.

“Eichio? What are you still doing here? I believe it is well past the time your shift is over, no?”

The yellowblood turned away from the bookcase he was dusting and saw his boss in the doorway, leaning casually against the doorframe. His tone was as neutral as he usually spoke to his employee, but the look in his eyes suggested something deeper. Calculating.

Undoubtedly he had been noticing Eichio’s odd behavior these last few nights. He hadn’t been underperforming or making any silly mistakes that would have caused his boss to pull him aside, but his emotions were at a state that even the most emotionally detached troll could not help but inquire about. Eichio could not determine any sense of genuine concern coming from Viltau, but neither could he feel any malice. 

‘You aren’t alone. You at least have Mister Espino.’

Eichio hesitated for a moment, fidgeting and trying to calm his nerves. Ordinarily he would be quick to answer and inform his boss that he was simply finishing up his last task, which would also be the case here if not for something else. There was an opportunity here: A temporary way out of his current plight. He just needed to ask, say the words he wants to say out loud, ignore the fear that arises when he knows he needs to ask for help. To be selfish, just this once.

He clasps his hands together, wringing them a little from anxiety, takes a breath, and looks the indigoblood in the eye.  

There was no sound of wings flapping or talons scraping against the wooden floors or birdlike screeches when Eichio opened the door. There were no blood splatters or loose feathers, either, just a layer of dust along the furniture that would be imperceptible to anyone not conditioned to make their living space spotless. It was as if the hybrid creature who raised him never existed at all. Its lack of presence was palpable, yet somehow, it felt easier to breathe. The absence of noise and fury, but also the absence of fear and dread. Eichio stood in the doorway for a long moment, taking in every nook and cranny of the room, making sure everything clicked as his new reality.

Strangely, while the hive had not been cleaned since he was last here, all the flowers indoors and out on the balcony appear to have been looked after. He wondered if Mister Espino had been watering the plants as well. 

He pushed the wooden wedge up against the door with his foot to keep it open, and began his usual routine of opening every curtain and window in the room to let in the fresh air. The inside of the hive was stuffy, but not stiflingly so. With each window opened, Eichio would look over his shoulder, expecting to see his lusus there waiting to lecture him about a chore he had not completed correctly before leaving for work. Of course, there was nothing there, and he felt a paradoxical wave of grief but also a release of tension in his shoulders. His hands were no longer shaking.

Is this how the atmosphere of a hive is supposed to feel? He knew there was something missing, and he felt awful about why that void now exists, but it’s all so… Quiet.

He headed over the kitchen to check the fridge. Sure enough, the carton of milk was gone and had not been replaced. The rest of the fridge was relatively bare, some vegetables in the crisper that he had intended to use in the meals he planned out the other week, a tub of butter, a carton of eggs, and various drinks to be used as mixers whenever he practiced his bartending skills. The pantry tended to fare much better, filled with staples that could be used to throw together a quick meal that takes as little preparation and ingredients as possible because- 

What do you think you’re doing? You’ve been home for five minutes and you’re already dodging responsibilities? This hive isn’t going to clean itself!

Of course, those words are solely in Eichio’s head, because the one who normally told him that is no longer alive. He instinctively flinched at the thought, but then it dawned on him that he won’t be forced to prioritise his lusus’ many tasks over his own needs anymore. He could eat whenever he wanted. He could sleep whenever he wanted. He could even wear whatever clothes he wanted without his lusus chastising him for looking ‘unprofessional’. It would be just like how he lived at Mister Espino’s hive (with even more freedom, as his boss would still look for him to make sure he was eating enough every night), or how Gerrel talked about his hive life. 

He grabbed a couple ingredients from the pantry - a bottle of olive oil, a bulb of garlic, a small jar of chilli flakes, and a handful of spaghetti noodles - retrieved a bag of grated parmesan from the fridge, and began bringing a pot of water to boil to prepare something to eat. He’d never gotten this opportunity to cook so early into the night for just himself, and it was around the time most trolls would normally be eating dinner. 

As he sat at the dining table with his bowl of pasta, he thought of what still needed to be done. He needed to dust and polish all the furniture, most obviously, then clean all the windows, vacuum and sweep the floors (redundant, but that was what his lusus always wanted), clean the bathroom (but he hasn’t used it in over a week so it should only be dusty, right?), wash the bedsheets and swap the pillows and duvet with manchester that had fresh sopor (again, he hasn’t slept here in over a week), and… That’s it. He could do it all tonight, but then what would he do for the rest of the week? And even with spreading out all the chores over a couple days, how else is he supposed to fill his new-found free time?

He could visit friends, since that privilege was recently taken away from him by his lusus. He could spend time brainstorming the best way to repay Mister Espino for his kindness without his lusus accusing him of ‘slacking off’ by not actively working on something. He could even-

God, what was he thinking? He almost choked on his forkful of pasta. All this talk about freedom, meanwhile his lusus is still dead. That is precisely why he’s free. How could he be so selfish, so quickly? Gliese said she killed his lusus because of what it was doing to him, as if she was doing him a favour. To be entertaining these thoughts so freely was sickening, and he could no longer enjoy the half-eaten meal left in the bowl. He can’t bring himself to agree with someone who acted so cruelly for no good reason. 

Gliese said that his lusus was never going to change, and that was why he had to die. Mister Espino said that the animosity would cool down in time, and his lusus may learn to appreciate him more after a period of separation. Gerrel said his home life was not normal, and a loving lusus would not act this way. His lusus said that it did everything because it wanted the best for him. Everyone did what they thought was best for him, but none of it made him feel good. 

He’d spent the last few weeks wondering if he ever felt good in the first place. 

His thoughts had circled around from dreading seeing his empty hive, to considering the freedom this empty hive now brought him, and back to dreading the freedom because the hive was so empty. He knew he had to get himself out of this conflict loop so he could start moving on like he’s supposed to, but he didn’t know where to start. He couldn’t listen to his heart like his boss had told him when the heart has no idea what it wants. All he could do was think.