#seriousfics

Ah, he can’t wait to hit the hay with his beauty mask on.

“Good night Keith.” Hunk says to the red paladin as he walks past him, the greeting more of an unshakeable habit than an actual time-teller. But he barely gets a glance in return—just a curt nod of the raven’s head.

Lance raises his eyebrows as the doors shut behind Keith.

“Hey, don’t you think Keith seems a bit off today?” he approaches Hunk and Pidge, who look at him skeptically.

“I don’t know, he seemed pretty normal to me.” Pidge says. Hunk nods in agreement.

“What about you, Coran?” Lance turns around to face the gorgeous man. “Do you think Keith’s acting weird today?”

“Number four? I can’t confidently say I do, Lance. Why? Did you notice something peculiar?”

“Well, it’s just…” Lance starts wildly gesturing with his hands. “He seemed way too quiet during the meeting just now, and… I don’t know, more tense I guess?” Here Lance crosses his arms and makes a frowny face, as if imitating the Keith that he noticed. “Like more uptight and brooding and junk. Shouldn’t we be worried?”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Lance.” Allura cuts in, still at the castle’s main control panel, flipping through some holograms here and there. “It’s possible he’s been distracted by his thoughts. A lot has happened, after all.”

“Yeah, what with Shiro being gone, and him having to pilot the Black Lion till he comes back… that is, if he comes back.” Hunk says, a solemn note to his voice. “Not to mention he’s probably still thinking about having Galra DNA in him and finding his family and junk.”

“Okay, point.” Lance agrees. “But shouldn’t we check on him? See he’s doing okay?”

“Your kindness is admirable, Lance.” Coran says. “But perhaps for now we should let him on his own for a while. Maybe he’ll perk back up like usual once he gets some sleep. Speaking of sleep, you should really get some, Princess.”

“I’m fine Coran, I just need to…” Allura starts, but with one wave of the gorgeous man’s hand, the computer shuts down all holograms.

“I’m sorry princess, but I have to insist this time.” Coran says as he escorts the obviously tired yet stubborn Allura out the door. “That goes for all you paladins too. Have a good sleep everyone.”

“You too Coran.” Lance calls out as the door closes. Bidding goodnight to Pidge and Hunk as well, the blue paladin makes his way towards his room.

The halls are dimmed to give that nighttime effect, but after the Alfor AI incident, Lance wishes they’d leave the lights bright all the time. The path to his room suddenly feels doubly long and spookier; the goosebumps are crawling up his skin.

For a split second he considers running back and bunking in with Hunk or at least get Hunk to accompany him to his room, when he notices the back of a figure in a darker part of the hallway.

The alarms rise in Lance’s head as he considers the possibility of an intruder—but he diminishes the thought almost instantly when he realizes, Oh, it’s Keith.

“Hey, Keith buddy, you okay?”

Keith doesn’t respond. He seems frozen in place, his shoulders hunched and against the wall. Lance takes a step closer, his brows furrowing. It’s not like Keith didn’t hear him, right?

“Keith?” Just as Lance says his name again, the raven falls to his knees.

“Keith!” Lance is by his side almost immediately. He holds onto Keith’s shoulder and realizes that the red paladin is gasping for breath hurriedly, almost as if he just got out of drowning, as if his lungs are failing him. His eyes are wide and unfocused, and he’s hugging himself and digging his nails into his arms hard enough to leave marks on his jacket.

Lance’s own eyes widen as he realizes what’s going on.

The first of many tears falls from Keith’s wide eyes, and the Castle of Lions shakes.

“What the—!” another tremor, harder than the one before, almost topples Lance off his feet despite him crouching. A lion’s roar echoes throughout the ship.

“Oh quiznak!” Lance dodges a fallen ceiling piece, and he shields Keith from some smaller debris with his body.

Keith himself is against the wall of the castle, his sobs louder now and his fingers pulling hard at his hair.

Allura’s voice booms through the castle. “Paladins?! Where’s Keith?! Why is the Red Lion attacking us?! Oof!”

Another hit seems to throw Allura off balance as she grunts.

Lance looks at the quivering body under him. He sets his jaw as determination fills his eyes.

♡

Allura is understandably distressed.

She was almost to her room when the attacks started, and ran back to the control room as fast as she could, her fear of the Galran Empire finding them or another enemy attacking their castle energizing her.

Finding out it was the Red Lion attacking her own hangar was not what she was expecting.

“W-What’s going on?!” Hunk shouts as he runs in with Pidge, the both of them suited up in full paladin armour.

“The Red Lion? What do you mean it’s the Red Lion? Where’s Keith?” Pidge asks in rapid succession as she jumps into her station.

“While we’re on the matter, where’s Lance? Has anyone seen Lance?” Hunk adds, going to his own place and seeing what he can do.

“That’s what I hoped you two would know, but I suppose not.” Allura says, gripping onto the controls as the castle shakes once again, even harder this time. The roars of the Red Lion almost feels deafening.

Coran comes running into the control room, ash and soot covering him. “Her hangar’s completely on fire, Princess! She wouldn’t let me in!”

“This is crazy! Again, where are Keith and Lance?!” Pidge shouts, her fingers flying over her computer. “If the Red Lion keeps this up, she’ll melt off her part of the hangar!”

Almost as soon as she said that, the tremors stop, and everything is quiet. No more roars are heard, and no more attacks are felt.

The control room and everyone in it is silent as they find themselves pondering, what just happened?

Static echoes through the speakers. “—rincess? Guys?”

“Wait, wait, what’s that? Is that Lance?” Hunk taps something on his computer and a screen pops out on the main display, showcasing Lance’s face.

The brunet instantly looks relieved. “Oh thank God. Is everyone okay?”

“Lance!” Pidge exclaims, noting the slight ash on his face. “Dude, you look like you just walked through a fire pit.”

“Lance, we’re fine, but where are you?” Allura cuts in.

“I’m… kinda in the Red Lion?”

“You’re… what?”

“Look, I can’t explain right now because I have to take care of him as soon as possible, but I’m going to take Red back to Blue’s hangar. This place is a hazard and needs some serious cleanup. Oh, and Keith’s with me at the back, so don’t worry. I got him.”

“Lance, what do you mean?” Allura sounds understandably more confused than before. “Did somebody attack him?”

Lance, in his white-blue shirt and with his jacket missing, shifts some controls and gets the Red Lion out the castle and back. “No, no, Princess. We’re fine. Nobody attacked Keith. Hunk will explain it to you.”

“What? Me? I literally don’t know anything about what’s going on here right now—”

“Hunk. It’s pineapples.”

Hunk immediately stops talking, a look of realization crossing his face. Allura, Coran, and Pidge have never looked so confused in their lives.

“Dude… like, in a cake?”

“Yeah, in a cake.”

“Gotcha. You go take care of him Lance. If you need anything from me, I’ll be here.”

Lance grins. “Thanks bud.” And he signs out as soon as he lands Red in Blue’s hangar.

“What the quiznak is a pineapple in a cake?” Pidge exclaims, once the hologram screen disappears.

Hunk looks at the other three people in the room and takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, back in The Garrison, Lance and I, we… kinda have a system.”

“What kind of system?” Allura prods gently when it seems that Hunk is hesitating.

“Well… we kind of take care of each other’s mental health, y’know? And Lance… he gets panic attacks a lot.”

A small gasp comes from Pidge. Hunk continues on when nobody else says anything.

“And because he can’t address it when it’s about to happen and he doesn’t want anyone to see him having one, we set up a system where he can hold my arm really tight, and I ask him, ‘pineapples in a cake?’ and if he nods, I take him back to his room and just… be there for him.”

“Wait, wait, so you’re saying Keith’s having a panic attack right now?” Pidge says and when Hunk nods, she slumps in her seat. “That might explain why Red suddenly started attacking us…”

“I’m sorry paladins but… what is a panic attack?” Allura asks, with Coran beside her looking just as curious.

Hunk and Pidge look at each other, and then begin to tell the Alteans what it all means.

♡

Lance sits in his seat for a while once Red landed, feeling her hum in worry for her paladin. He places a hand on one of her controls and pats. “It’s okay, girl. I’ve got him. Just don’t go attacking the castle again, got it?”

When the brunet feels like he’s got an agreeing hum from the overprotective lion, he turns around in his seat to face Keith.

It was no easy feat getting him to the Red Lion’s hangar, Lance’ll admit that. He almost burned himself thanks to Red’s flames. But seeing Keith slumped against the wall of the cockpit, Lance’s jacket wrapped around him as he rides out the attack, his eyes shut tight, and the occasional sob echoing in the small space, Lance thinks he’d probably be willing to do it all over again.

Lance sits down by Keith, and gently pulls the other down so he’s lying in his lap. He pats Keith’s hair, running his fingers down the length of the mullet and back. After another moment’s silence, Lance begins to sing softly.

He doesn’t know what’ll help calm Keith down, but he hopes at least this is enough.

He racks his memory for any and all the gentle songs he knows, from the typical lullaby in English or Spanish, to the ridiculous self-written songs of his childhood. Once in awhile, a soft love song he remembers from the radio would come into play as well.

He loses track of time with his whisper-singing, unsure of how long he’s been here with Keith occasionally letting out a sob before finally stilling with slow breaths.

Ah, he’s asleep…

Lance’s own eyes close, resting his head against the wall of the cockpit.

Maybe he’ll sleep for a bit too.

♡

When Lance wakes, it’s from being jostled around by a waking Keith.

Lance opens his eyes, realizing he’s still in the exact same position when he fell asleep, and sees Keith trying to push himself off his lap.

In a hushed tone, he asks, “Hey Keith… you okay?”

Keith visibly flinches. His hair hangs and covers most of his face from this angle, so Lance can’t read his expression.

“I…” Keith starts. Lance sees his hands are trembling. “What… happened?”

“You had a panic attack. You don’t remember it?”

Keith shakes his head. Lance’s jacket is still secure around the raven’s shoulders.

“Is this your first time?” Lance asks, just to make sure.

For a moment Keith is silent. But then he shakes his head, almost hesitantly.

“I don’t know… But I think I went through something like this… back in the Garrison… when they told me that he… that Shiro…” Keith doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before another tear hits the ground.

Lance pulls the other into a hug gently, letting Keith cry in between his neck and shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says as he starts humming. “It’s okay.”

Things aren’t really okay, and he’s aware of that. But for now, for just one tick, he needs things to feel okay. At least for a little while.

Keith isn’t actively sobbing this time, his tears silently trailing down his cheeks. Lance plays with the other’s hair again, partly for something to do other than sing, partly for the hope it can help ease Keith’s worries.

It takes a bit for Keith to stop crying and for him to pull away, wiping his face with his shirt.

The raven slides around to sit beside Lance, their shoulders, hips, and legs touching. His mouth opens and closes, as if trying to figure out the words to say to Lance.

“I’m… sorry you had to see me like this.”

Lance places a reassuring hand on the other’s knee. “Don’t be. It’s okay to fall apart sometimes,” with a little smirk to ease the tension in the atmosphere, he adds, “Even for little mullet paladins like you.”

The raven snorts, but Lance spies a small smile, so he takes that as a victory.

Keith raises a weak hand, as if to gesture at everything. “Thanks… You know, for…” he trails off and his hand falls.

“No problem.” Lance says. And he means it. Gently, he bumps the other’s shoulder with his own. “I’ve got your back man.”

Keith smiles at him. His eyes are red and puffy, and there are still tear stains on his cheeks. Without another word the raven leans his head against Lance’s and closes his eyes, curling in on himself.

Lance raises his hand to play with his hair again.

He recognizes the tallest one among them as Ven almost immediately, all muscle and big smiles, looking as healthy as ever after all these years. Jay’s smile stretches widely across his own face at the sight of him.

But the other one, slightly shorter in height and smaller in stature, looks vaguely like someone else he knows but… that can’t be right.

Kyu isn’t that tall.

The Not-Kyu guy is looking around the castle as the duo come closer to him. His eyes seem to roam everywhere, taking in every nook and cranny like a curious child. There seems to be a bounce in his step too…?

Jay really can’t pin out who that person really is.

He seems far too chirpy to be Kyu.

But really, the only guests he’s expecting today are Ven and Kyu and not really anybody else. He’s sure Zhi has a number of people—important people—she has to meet with today, but he’s sure none of them would get redirected to meet him, right?

The weird Not-Kyu guy lags behind, inspecting a piece of giant tapestry hung over one part of the wall. It tells the tale of how their land, Protea, rose into the sky hundreds of years back—one of the many tapestries around the castle that showcases their adventures to reclaim their homeland, from the start to the end.

Ven walks right up to him and spreads his arms out in greeting. “Jay! It’s been so long!” and before he knows it, he’s being scooped up into a bear hug.

He laughs into the hug, patting the muscled man on the arms when he’s back on his feet. “It’s good to see you too, Ven! How are you?”

“Great, great. A bit tired from the journey here, but otherwise I’m just fine. What about you? How’s life as a king?”

“Ahahaha… Well…” he can’t really say. He doesn’t do much around here as king. He mostly just drops for a visit here or there to some countries or kingdoms every once in a while to keep good diplomatic relations. He’s been told he’s good at that.

“Well, it can’t be that much harder than shooting arrows now is it, Your Highness?” a condescending voice speaks up from behind him. Jay jumps, his battle instincts kicking in immediately as his hands look for his bow and arrow.

Of course, they’re not there, and he feels a bit silly, but it’s not like he can help it.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, it’s just me.” The condescending voice speaks again, sounding less mean and more amused. Jay finally registers the person he’s looking at. And, well, surprise doesn’t cover half of what he’s feeling right now.

He sputters. “Oh my God, Kyu, it really is you.”

Kyu raises an eyebrow. Realization dawns on his face before he laughs. “Yeah, I’m taller now. Surprise.”

Jay’s eyes rake him up and down. They’re not standing that close to each other, but Jay can tell. Kyu’s no longer that height where he has to look up at an awkward angle to meet Jay’s eyes. Honestly, it’s throwing him off so much. He gulps. “B-B-But, how?!”

Kyu smirks. He inspects his nails, as if he can see them through his gloves. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe some magic, maybe some potions. Maybe I was just a late bloomer.”

Aghast, Jay turns to Ven. “And you’re fine with this?!” he sounds indignant as he aims both hands at Kyu, who now looks mildly annoyed. “You’re fine with our small little Kyu being… not so small anymore?!”

“Hey! I heard that!”

Ven just laughs. There’s a shine of joy on his face as he grabs the both of them and squishes them in a hug. “How I miss having all three of us together!”

“That makes one of us…” Kyu says, sounding very much breathless in the chokehold. Jay relates to that feeling. The not being able to breathe part, he means.

When Ven finally releases them, with his arm still around Kyu’s shoulders, Jay can’t help the grin that lands on his lips. All of them are so different now, physically, emotionally, yet they’re still the same three idiots who ran around and chased after each other in the Protean woods.

“Come on, I’ll show you guys to your room.” Jay says. “Oh, and remember to lock it this time, okay?”

Kyu kicks his back without hesitation and Ven laughs.

Yeah, Jay definitely missed them.

   ♛

During dinner later on, Zhi joins them.

Jay feels like this should be a blessing, having the Queen of Protea dining with them—since her presence alone should be enough to keep the three men in check.

Alas, perhaps he hoped for too much.

“I hope Jay hasn’t been too much of a burden on you, Your Majesty.” Kyu says to Zhi with an all-knowing smile over their appetizers, like he’s heard all about Jay’s first few days of trying to handle royal duties. Which he probably has.

It’s fine. Jay probably would’ve told him anyway.

The conversation between the two goes on about something or other, and Jay finds himself increasingly losing focus. He’s even starting to play with his food. Not before eating most of the things on his plate, though.

The man is beginning to wonder when dessert is going to come, when something hits him right on the nose. He flinches. Blinks. Looking up, he catches a glimpse of Ven with a spoon aimed towards him for a split second before Ven turns away, pretending like he’s admiring the dining room décor.

Jay looks back down on his plate. There’s an extra pea.

Ven threw a pea at him.

Jay purses his lips, trying to contain a laugh. He keeps a discreet eye on Ven as he loads that same pea on his spoon, and launches it into an arc over the table right on Ven’s face. Ven startles, and the pea bounces off—right onto Kyu’s cheek.

There’s a pause in the conversation.

Kyu decides to ignore it and go back to talking.

Jay and Ven, meanwhile, are trying really hard to hold in their laughter. He’s clutching his gut in the effort, visibly shaking, and he’s 100% sure Zhi notices their antics. She’s just not commenting on it. Yet.

He sees Ven launch a sliced carrot towards him, and in that split second panic he deflects the vegetable with an empty plate, saving him from the orange ammo.

The downside of this is that the carrot rebounded and landed exactly on Kyu’s head.

The shortest of them all slams his hands down on the table and turns to Jay. “Are you trying to be annoying, or does it come naturally?!”

With an innocent smile, Jay says, “It comes naturally.”

He gets mashed potato in his face, courtesy of Kyu.

All hell breaks loose as more food flies around the trio and it becomes an every-man-for-himself kind of thing—mashed potato, leftover chicken, gravy and vegetables, anything at all on the table is turned into ammo. Plates become shields and spoons become cannons. Jay gets another pea in his forehead, he can barely see through his glasses, and gravy is spilling all over his clothes.

He notices that neither Kyu nor Ven are in better shape either, with the taller one of the two having a bowl over his head as armour. A stray strand of noodle is hanging over his ear.

Laughter decorates the air just like the food being thrown around. Kyu is shouting out threats that if he gets another spoonful of mashed potato in his face, he’s going to kill the two of them. Jay and Ven retaliate by giving him exactly what he didn’t ask for.

Kyu’s starting to throw the cutlery now, and in hindsight that’s probably a dangerous idea and they probably shouldn’t have pissed him off, but Jay’s laughing too hard to really think about it too much and he doesn’t think Ven pays it any mind either. They’re both doing a good job at avoiding the forks and butter knives anyway.

If any of them get hurt, well.

In the midst of it all, he barely notices that the Queen of Protea is missing from the table.

   ♛

Zhi is walking out the dining room door, when one of the guards on duty there asks here, “Shall I stop them, my Queen?”

Without halting her stride, she answers. “If I had wanted them stopped, I would’ve done so myself.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

She pauses walking for a moment. The guard stills a few paces behind her.

“Tell them to clean up after their own mess when they’re done. I want the place spotless when breakfast comes.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

   ♛

The next morning, breakfast is much more tamed.

(Jay finds a stray pea under his chair that he missed yesterday and quickly disposes it.)

   ♛

Afterwards, Jay has some royal business to attend to with Zhi, so Ven and Kyu are free to explore the castle and do whatever they wish.

When that matter is done and settled with, he wonders where they are. It’s a bright day, with the sun shining magnificently through the windows, so he doesn’t think they’ll be inside. After a few inquiries made on the servants, he makes his way towards the palace gardens, where a large variety of trees, flowers, and plants reside.

Honestly, he’s not entirely sure whether or not he should be imposing on them. He can just let them have the day together and run off do other things, like practicing his archery or work on his swordsmanship on the other side of the castle.

They’ve spent years and years travelling the world together, and occasionally sending letters to him without a way for him to write back because they’ll be in another place soon enough. They wouldn’t really notice if he’s there or not. Yeah, maybe he should just head back—

Just as he makes a turn at a hedge, Jay sees the couple under an apple tree in animated conversation. He hides himself behind the hedge, not entirely sure why he’s hiding in the first place, and watches as Kyu points excitedly at the ripe apples on a lower branch. With a grin, Ven hoists Kyu up by the waist, and soon enough there’s a bunch of apples in Kyu’s arms. Ven lets him down on his feet again and gives Kyu a kiss on the lips before they both laugh.

Jay vaguely remembers something akin to this happening hundreds of years ago, when they were much younger and probably more stupid, where he’s hiding behind something just like he is right now, as he watches Kyu gazing longingly at an apple tree and Ven casually lifting him up so he can pick it, even though Kyu never said a word that he wanted one.

A smile rests on Jay’s face. Yeah, maybe he should let them have the day together.

Just as he’s about to leave them for the archery range, he hears Ven call out, “We know you’re behind that hedge, Jay!”

He freezes. Damn it. He wishes he was better at stealth than he is now.

He pops his head out from behind the accursed plant, smiling and waving. “Ahaha… hi guys!”

Ven makes a ‘come here’ gesture towards him. Almost reluctantly, Jay pulls himself away from his hiding place and takes steady steps towards them. He wishes he can just turn back around and pretend someone came looking for him for some very urgent and very royal business.

Too late for that now.

He laughs again as he stands before them. “Sorry, am I bothering you two right now?”

Kyu throws an apple towards him and Jay stumbles to catch it. “What an idiot.” Kyu says with a smirk. “You’re always a bother. It doesn’t mean we don’t want you around.”

Ven laughs. “Didn’t we already say we missed hanging out with you? If you’re already done with work today, we should do something together!”

“Work? What work?” Kyu pipes up, wiping an apple on his shirt before biting into it. “He probably just sits around all day doing nothing like a cat.”

“Hey, I do have things to do…” Jay says weakly. Okay, he doesn’t have things to do all the time, but there are things for him to do. Sometimes. Occasionally. Like today. The last time he did something was probably months ago. But Kyu doesn’t need to know that.

Kyu eyes him up and down. He sighs and then smiles. “Well, even if you are busy today, we’re still kidnapping you for some fun in the city.”

Jay perks up at that. He hasn’t been to the city in a while.

“Yup.” Ven agrees. “And you can’t say no!” With that said, Ven wraps one arm around Jay’s shoulders, and the other around Kyu’s waist. He starts leading them towards the garden’s gates in a hurry, the excitement showing all over his face.

As Kyu complains about being pulled around, Jay grins without realizing.

The first thing he sees when he opens the door is the open window by the fire escape. His heart grows cold for a split-second, before he remembers that there’s really only one person in the entire world who could open his fire escape window to sneak in.

“Spade? Are you here?” Jack calls out as he turns on the apartment lights.

No answer. He shrugs off his jacket as he walks, eyes looking for a familiar length of braided purple hair.

When he reaches the living room, that’s when he sees it. Or rather, sees him.

Curled up on the couch and fast asleep, is none other than Spade himself in all of his piercings and tattoo glory.

Jack huffs in annoyance at first, mumbling something that sounds like ‘you could’ve at least closed the window first’, before he notices that Spade has blanketed himself with one of Jack’s coats for work, fingers wrapped around the fabric tightly.

He blinks.

A warm feeling nestles itself deep within his chest. He can feel himself turning red already.

Jack sits cross-legged on the floor, resting his chin in his hand. To think that Spade would use his coat to keep himself warm… It’s just too much. It’s not often he gets to see Spade asleep like this after all, curled up and serene. It’s cute—a nice change from the usual smirk or scowl or frown or menacing grin.

Jack reaches out his hand, fingers tracing the other’s cheek gently, not wanting to wake him up. His thumb caresses the piercings above Spade’s eyebrows and the man stirs, tilting his head into Jack’s hand.

For a moment, Jack stills. The close call made his heartbeat rise, and it makes him realize he should really put his stuff away and change into his home clothes. He should let Spade have his sleep. Before he stands up, he leans in close to leave a soft kiss on Spade’s forehead.

And that’s when he feels the cold metal against his neck.

“You know, in some countries, that’s considered sexual harassment, detective.”

Jack chuckles nervously. The cold metal is still against his throat. “Sorry I woke you up…?”

Spade keeps the knife away, pushing himself off the couch and into a sitting position, the serene look he had on while asleep replaced by a frown. “I thought you don’t usually come home on weeknights.”

“I don’t.” Jack says, relieved he’s no longer under the threat of being chopped into pieces. He sits beside the disgruntled Spade and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Honestly, the other man now looks like a mad cat instead of a punk. It’s too cute. “But I just solved my case today, so I’m pretty sure I deserve a break and a sleep in an actual bed.”

“Hm.”

“Speaking of sleeping in actual beds, what’s this all about?” Jack points at his coat that’s now in Spade’s lap. He gestures to the entire sofa too. “Do you always do this? Sneak into my apartment when I’m gone and sleep with my clothes?”

A brilliant blush spreads onto Spade’s face, and he finally looks wide awake. “N-No! O-Of course I don’t! It’s just a onetime thing that’s all!” He tries to push away Jack’s hand that’s around him and stand, but the detective simply pulls him to sit on his lap. A sound of protest escapes Spade’s lips.

“I’ve still got my knife, y’know!”

“And I can arrest you if you use it on me.” Jack grins mischievously. His arms are now around the other’s torso, and he nuzzles his nose into Spade’s long braid, inhaling the scent. Under that tough exterior, this guy sure loves his lavender shampoo.

Jack doesn’t hear anything in reply from Spade.

He gets an elbow to the gut instead.

“GUH!” the man coughs out, clutching onto his stomach as Spade easily gets up. The long haired man crosses his arms as he glares down at Jack.

Jack kind of regrets teasing him, but also kind of doesn’t.

“You sure don’t hold back, huh…” he says with a chuckle. When he looks up, he sees that Spade’s averted his gaze, lips in what appears to be a small pout…

His hear t clenches tight again.

“Alright, come here.” Jack says with his arms wide open. “Something happened, huh?”

Spade turns a brilliant red and he doesn’t make a move. Minutes go by as neither of them give in; Jack still with his arms spread apart, and Spade still frozen in place.

It’s not too long before Spade does cave in and straddles Jack on the couch, arms wrapped around the detective in a tight embrace. He nuzzles his face into Jack’s neck and relaxes, almost melting against the detective.

Jack hugs him back just as tight, relishing the warmth between them.

His hand pats Spade’s back slowly. He says, “Do you want to talk about it…?”

Spade hugs him tighter.

Jack waits.

The minute hand on the clock ticks on, the time slipping in between their fingers. Jack doesn’t say a word still, and neither does Spade. The long-haired man always takes his time when it comes to things like this. Jack doesn’t mind.

It took the detective forever, a lot of flowers, an uncountable amount of coffee, and various types of novels to get the other to open up to him, let alone manage to get him to reciprocate his feelings. He can wait forevermore for whatever it is that’s bothering Spade now. And whatever that problem is, he’s going to try and fix it for sure.

He’s called a miracle maker for a reason.

Jack hears Spade sigh and he braces himself. “Sorry, Jack… It’s just. It’s dumb.” Spade says, still snuggled up against the detective.

“It’s not dumb if you’re upset about it.”

“…”

“Well…?”

“……”

“…”

“……Fine.”

Jack smiles softly at his small victory. Spade adjusts himself to sit properly, so he can face Jack without trouble.

Spade bites his lip, eyes averted. Jack expects him to say something; ready to take whatever it is that could rattle the always tough and cunning Spade. Not much in this world has the ability to do that, and Jack knows it by experience.

But then Spade… kisses his lips gently.

Jack blinks. That takes him by surprise. When it comes to kisses, it was always Jack who initiates it. From the start of their relationship, rarely has it been Spade.

His hands freeze in place, unsure exactly where to put them. He returns the kiss—slowly, carefully, afraid of scaring Spade away from this development.

After a while of the closed-mouth kiss, Spade pulls away and slides his arms around Jack’s neck and hugs him tight.

A barely audible whisper, like the words struggle to come out of his mouth, reaches Jack’s ears. “My parents…” Jack stiffens. “They’re looking for me…” Spade finishes, and Jack can feel how deflated Spade is.

A silent moment later, Jack takes in a breath and asks, “After all this time?” he runs a hand up and down Spade’s back, comforting the man. He can only imagine what Spade feels like at the moment, especially being someone coming from what one would call a picture perfect family.

Jack remembers the day Spade first opened up about being disowned. The expression Spade held in his face back then… it wasn’t something that Jack would want Spade to wear ever again. So he tries hard to not let history repeat itself.

But if it happens once more tonight, then he has no choice but to just hold Spade like this until it goes away.

“Yeah…” Spade sounds like he’s about to break. “I don’t know what to do.”

Jack gives him a tight squeeze, his arms going around Spade’s entire frame. “You don’t have to see them if you don’t want to, you know?”

“I know… it’s just…”

“A bit of a shock?”

A nod.

Jack pulls away and runs his hands down Spade’s shoulders, his left hand brushing a bright purple rose and thorns tattoo that entwines the other’s arm. Spade looks into his eyes and Jack can see how uncertain and confused he is about the entire ordeal.

“Whatever you decide to do, I’ve got your back, okay?” Jack says. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind Spade’s ear and places a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I’m here for you.”

Spade’s face melts into one of relief and admiration, which makes Jack’s heart do a triple flip. Spade kisses him again on the mouth and Jack can feel the other’s smile against his lips. He smiles just as well into the kiss, holding Spade in his arms like a jewel.

Spade doesn’t say anything, but the detective understands what he’s trying to convey.

Even to this second, he finds it hard to believe. It seems like an impossible idea, how someone as cute and adorable as Estel would want to date someone like him, would want to be with him—a rambling old man who eats way more than what should be normal. He isn’t remarkably handsome. Nor is he remarkably blessed in other aspects that most people aimed for nowadays, like a muscled body.

But somewhere along the way, it happened. Slowly but surely. He saw it, the lingering touches of Estel’s hand on his, the secret stares when Estel thought he was busy, and the shy smiles that Estel presents him with every time he ruffles their hair and compliment them on their job well done.

It was all there.

And it wasn’t like he wasn’t doing the same thing either. He tried to tone it down. But he couldn’t help wanting to feed Estel some of his meal, just to see them open up their mouth so willingly and cutely. He couldn’t help asking them to do menial chores around the infirmary or for him, just so he could spend more time with them without seeming too suspicious. And he couldn’t help it if he thought of kissing their lips more than once every single day.

He knew he was a goner the minute Estel confessed to him.

He wasn’t expecting it so soon. In fact, he wasn’t expecting it to happen at all. He was thinking that Estel would graduate and the both of them would move on from these fragile feelings to continue living their lives as normally as they possibly could. He had already resigned himself to that possibility too.

But no.

There they were, waiting for him in the infirmary on one of the beds, their hands shaking and their eyes wandering. When he sat with them on the said bed, they started talking about their feelings for him, how they couldn’t stand it anymore, how they’re sorry that this happened, how they’d understand if Siegward wasn’t interested in them that way in the slightest and—was it really his fault if he swept down and stole those trembling lips?

The kiss was short, quick and incomplete. It made him crave for more. It made him want more of Estel’s sweetness, more of their exquisite taste. He held onto their shoulders, one hand on their back, pulling their body flush against his. He kissed them, again and again and again, and Estel melted in his arms.

When reality finally caught up to him, he panicked. He was a teacher, technically, and Estel was a student. It was against the rules. It couldn’t happen. He didn’t care if they decided to sack him, but it’d cause trouble for Estel if they were kicked out of school thanks to something like this.

But having Estel’s arms around him were heavenly, and having them lean their head in the crook of his neck felt like flowers were growing in his heart. Silence enveloped them in that moment, their breathing in sync and their heart beating as loud as fireworks in the sky.

He had looked down then, at Estel, and noticed that their cheeks were still vaguely tinted with pink. He was sure he himself was red still. Estel noticed his eyes on them and looked up, their orbs wide in curiosity. Maybe they were waiting for an explanation. Maybe they were waiting for answers.

Siegward smiled gently. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking…” he caressed their soft cheek with one hand, exhaling his words slowly. “Then yes, Estel. I’m in love with you too.”

The sight of Estel’s face brightening made him hear angels sing in the sunset sky.

But the bright light faded away from Estel’s face when they noticed that Siegward’s smile faltered and his brow creased. “However…” he started. “We… can’t. You’re still a student here at Meliora, and I, a teacher. If they catch us like this, it won’t go well for you…”

The silence felt heavy, just for a moment. Then, Estel spoke up.

“Then I’ll wait. I’ll wait until I graduate from this school. And if by that time, you’re still willing to have me…”

Siegward looked at them, eyes wide. Estel’s eyes were wide too, but wide with determination instead.

They would do that…? For him…?

No. No, the better question would be… was Siegward willing to do that for them?

He gave it a thought. In retrospect, it was possible. It was something that could happen without any consequences. It was something that he actually hoped for.

But… he worried the most for Estel’s future. What if their want of being with him held them back? What if things change throughout the years of waiting and pining? What if... he’s just not good enough for them?

He took one more look at Estel’s eyes, and thought, there is nothing that can stop me from having you. Not now. Not ever.

Siegward is brought back from his daydream of the past when he feels Estel squeeze their joint hands. They smile up at him, their cute sweet smile, and Siegward feels his heart soar into the night. He squeezes their hand back, giving them a smile of his own. He can literally feel the small hearts flying off of his head.

Their little stroll around the outskirts of town under the moonlit sky is impromptu, to say the least. He was running an errand that evening and met Estel on his way back home. Considering the fact that it’s a school holiday, it’s no surprise for him that Estel misses him dearly. And its a lie if he says that he doesn’t miss them, too.

The forests surrounding them are hushed that night, he noticed. Siegward can barely pick up the rustle of leaves. It worries him slightly, how silent it is, but they have no choice. They can’t risk being seen by anybody they knew.

Things will be fine, he reassures himself. Nothing will happen as long as he’s around. He distracts himself in the conversation he has with Estel, where they tell stories of what happened recently with the people they know from school. He finds out that Sorvin and Merrine are still teasing the heck out of Estel regarding their ‘secret’ boyfriend.

He chuckles at that, holding back a loud laugh at how Estel is storytelling with so much enthusiasm, but he stops short when his ears catch distant footsteps in the wind.

He looks over his shoulder.

Through the dark blanket of the night, he can vaguely, very vaguely, make out the silhouettes of a few people that he, with an uneasy realization, recognize.

Estel notices his averted attention and tries to look back too, but Siegward immediately pulls them closer to him by their shoulder, not letting them see.

“Siegward…?”

“Just walk faster.” He whispers urgently. “We’re being followed.”

Estel tenses after hearing that but they willingly comply with his order. The two of them brisk walk, Siegward leading not only the way but also their pace.

They both fall into a rhythm before Siegward dares another glance back.

He supposes he wishes he hadn’t done that.

He can see the Shadow Man clearly now. The man he always dreads getting visits from. It appears that the man brought his goons along with him, and it looks like they hurried their own pace too to catch up with them. They don’t look like they’re here to invite them to a slumber party either.

His grip on Estel’s shoulder tightens as he slows to a stop. He knows he can’t outrun them, not really. The night is where the Shadow Man and his goons reign. It’s better if he finds out what they want with him and get it done with peacefully.

He and Estel turn around to meet them face to face. He can feel Estel’s questioning glance towards him, but Siegward’s glare is sharply aimed towards the Shadow Man. He’ll explain whatever’s going on right now to Estel later. For now, his priority is to make sure they don’t try to lay a hand on Estel.

He can never trust that man too much.

The Shadow Man and his goons also slow to a stop, acknowledging Siegward’s deathly stare.

“What do you want now, Shadow Man?” Siegward asks, maintaining a level voice.

The Shadow Man says nothing. He merely stares into Siegward’s eyes—is he really? Siegward can never tell, with all of those shadows covering the man’s face—while his goons hold their heads down.

Seconds pass, maybe even minutes. Not one of them makes a move. Siegward can feel Estel growing more and more restless beside him, so he tries to console them by holding one of their hands. It probably didn’t do much, but at least Estel can calm down a little, right?

Siegward is about to ask the Shadow Man what is it that he wants again, when the Shadow Man finally responds. He raises a hand…

And points a finger towards Estel.

He feels Estel flinch in his arms. Alarms blare in Siegward’s head. He pulls Estel’s body flush against his when the Shadow Man’s goons jump towards them, hoping to shield them from their nasty claws, but they tear the two of them apart with almost no effort at all.

“ESTEL!” he hears himself shout, his voice breaking. The goons, black and smelly and slimy, wrap their claws around his arms and shoulders, pulling him further and further away from his beloved.

He can see the panic in Estel’s face, their muffled screams filtering through one of the goons’ claws, their attempts at breaking free from the creature’s gruesome hands.

His heart drums in his ears, deafening him to all other sounds. His vision tunnels and all he can see with his eyes is Estel. He grasps out, trying, failing, to hold them. To save them.

Estel.

Estel.

Estel.

Siegward starts coughing then, a loud and violent hack. His body grows cold all over. His legs numb. His arms ache. When he feels the shiver from his spine to his neck, he recognizes the sensation immediately.

Coughing into one hand, a red rich liquid drips from his fingers. A drop of the blood reaches the ground, and Siegward gasps.

He starts screaming then, when he feels the bones in his arms and legs disassembling to become bigger, stronger. He doesn’t know when the goons let go of him. He doesn’t care, frankly. Estel is the only one he needs to think of right now. Estel.

A growl escapes his mouth, deep and dangerous. The man crouches down to all-fours, poised to pounce, his fangs gritting out his anger.

His transformation is half-complete however, affecting only his limbs and a part of his face. There is still a human side to him—a human side, both physically and mentally, that’s a reminder of why he unwillingly changed, despite how painful it is and how he’s held himself back from doing so since that time ages ago.

But a human can hold down a wolf only for so long.

He lashes out, his barks filling the air and the sound of crushing bones following after. His claw-like hands tear apart anything that he touches, anything that he sees, and anything that he hears.

He catches sight of the Shadow Man slinking away, returning back to where he and his goons came from. Siegward growls again, meaner this time, and takes one leap to catch up to the other.

He pins the Shadow Man on the ground, claws digging into the other’s rough skin and tearing through his flimsy suit. Siegward can only think of one thing right now, honestly. All he wants to do is rip this man to pieces, to shreds, to strings of flesh no longer recognizable.

But there is something that makes him hesitate, a gnawing feeling, an aching grip right in the centre of his chest. Siegward breathes. He gulps for air, bright eyes glaring into the ones belonging to the struggling Shadow Man. The feeling is still there… telling him not to…

…

……

He bites.

He didn’t even let the man scream. Blood seeps in between his canines and he swallows, letting the thick, rich liquid slide down his throat. The flesh is hard, chewy, and it doesn’t surprise Siegward considering what the Shadow Man really is.

He can’t eat this.

Siegward spits it out, and some—a bad taste lingering in his mouth. But he keeps biting, keeps on clawing. He rips the man’s head off his body, the blood spilling on the ground, onto his clothes and onto his fur. It trails down the dirt path, slithering like a snake. How long has it been since he’s seen a sight like this?

A movement and a voice catch Siegward’s attention.

“Sieg…ward…?” Estel gently calls out, a tremor in their voice.

When he looks at them, their eyes are wide, their hands are shaking, and they’re seated on the grass where they must’ve been thrown to earlier when the school nurse started his… transformation.

Siegward exhales through his nostrils, dropping the torn up limbs of the man. He makes his way to Estel on all fours—slowly, gently… They seem ready to bolt. But they don’t. Not even when Siegward is so close by, not even when his clawed hand graze their ankles, trace up their legs.

He can feel them shake though. He can sense the fear and uncertainty that’s coming from them.

But they stayed.

His sharp fingers carefully hold their cheek. He notices that his palm is much bigger than it used to be, leaving blood red stains all over their face. Estel tenses up for a moment, but raises their hands to hold his wrist, sighing. Their lips still tremble, however. Their brow is still furrowed together.

Siegward lowers himself, wrapping his arms around Estel’s torso and bringing them up into an embrace. He wishes he could speak right now. He wishes he could tell them that he’s sorry they had to see him like this—that they had to see him do that.

Estel pulls back from the hug, gently holding Siegward’s half-transformed face with their hands. Their eyes stare into his, determined and… understanding. Something akin to a whine leaves him, and Estel smiles.

A thought flashes into his mind, almost at the same rate his heart warmed at the sight of Estel’s kindness. He thought of how he almost lost them earlier—how he almost lost this smile, these eyes, these hands, and this warmth.

The idea of it makes him growl, makes him see red, and makes his head pulse. He has to protect Estel. He has to protect Estel. He has to protect Estel.

There is a cry, ringing through the air, the spilling of more blood, tainting the grass crimson, and tears running down a gentle elf’s cheeks, sobs muffled by a clawed hand.

Siegward bites, and bites, and bites. He chews the flesh of the elf’s shoulder, ripping more strips off after he swallows. The meat this time is sweet, savoury—a stark contrast to the ones earlier. He would love to have this for the rest of his life. He licks his lips, stomach growling and craving for more.

I love you.

They would be safe this way, safe from harm, safe from danger, safe from anything else that could ever hurt them in the future. They would be okay.

The elf’s arm falls limply. The shakes stop.

I love you so much.

He takes another bite of that arm, sniffing the beautiful scent that belongs only to them—a smell that reminded him of baked pastries, cedar trees, and junipers. This smell… this smile… these fingers, these eyes… all of them would belong only to him. To him, and only him.

A tear travels down his snout.

I love you, Estel.

He howls into the night.

♚

Albrecht looks left and right, his eyes looking for one person. Shindou’s house is as big as ever, and the places he can search in are beginning to wither down. He’s sure he just saw Soushi this morning—he couldn’t just disappear, right?

“Soushi?” he calls out again, opening the door that leads to their shared bedroom. His face brightens and his lips curl into a smile when he sees the mentioned man. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

But when Soushi turns his gaze to Albrecht, there is nothing but a cold disinterest in his face that makes the blond freeze. “Soushi…?” he tries again, worriedly. He closes the door behind him and takes a step closer to his lover.

“I want to break up with you.”

Albrecht hears something else break instead.

“W-What?” he stutters, disbelief lacing his words. “Y-You’re joking, right, Soushi?” his heart hammers against his chest and he digs his nails into the palm of his hands. If this is a joke, it’s much too cruel.

Soushi doesn’t answer. He merely regards Albrecht with cold eyes and it’s then did he notice the bag that’s slung over Soushi’s shoulder and the lack of items belonging to Soushi in this room. His stomach drops.

“No!” he cries out, the hints of tears appearing in his eyes. “No, no, no!” he can hear his voice breaking. He tries to touch Soushi, to hold him in a hug, but the other quickly takes a step back, the message as clear as day. Don’t touch me.

“Did I do something wrong?!” he demands, his voice breaking too. “What is it?! Tell me, Soushi, please! I don’t want you to go!”

He needs Soushi to stay.

I need him.

Soushi is quite, still. His hand reaches out again, trying to at least touch Soushi’s shoulder. His hand is slapped away. Soushi narrows his eyes at him, a look of scorn on his face.

It hurts.

“That’s the damned thing, Albrecht,” Soushi starts with venom. “You cling on me too much. And you’re nothing but a fucking brat! How much you depend on me is downright creepy.” His voice is nothing but hard. There is no compassion; the gentle and playful voice he always used with Albrecht is no more. Every word that comes out of his mouth feels like a poisoned blade in Albrecht’s chest.

Please. Please don’t leave me.

“You’re nothing but a problem, a burden. You’re paranoid over every little thing I do; it’s obvious you never trusted me,” he doesn’t stop with his attacks. He scoffs. “Funny. Now your paranoia’s costing you.”

No.

“I’ll change!” Albrecht’s voice sounds desperate. “I’ll change, I’ll do anything!” he makes for Soushi again, this time moving faster and catching the other in an embrace. “Soushi, please…” he whimpers. “Please, I can’t live without you…”

Soushi struggles against his hold. Albrecht knows he’s strong and it isn’t long before Soushi manages to push him away. He glares at Albrecht, picks up his bag that fell earlier, and pushes past him.

“It’s over,” he says. “I’m tired of taking care of children.”

Albrecht screams.

Don’t go.

He jolts, flinches, and gasps for air. He’s gripping the sheets under him tightly, like his life depends on them, and he’s taken back by the white ceiling above him.

What happened?

He sits up hastily, taking in the room around him. It’s his room, alright. The room he and Soushi share every time the latter stayed. Panic gripes at him. No. No. That didn’t happen, right? Soushi didn’t leave him, right? Right?

The tears come and one by one they easily fall down his cheeks. Soushi wouldn’t. He couldn’t leave him. Please, tell him it was all just a nightmare. Let it be nothing but a nightmare.

The door to the room opens and he turns his head so quickly and he feels his chest burn at the sight of Soushi, looking worried.

“Al? Are you okay? I heard you scr—!”

He didn’t let him finish his sentence. He gathers Soushi in a tight hold, not even entirely sure how or when he got out of bed. He kisses Soushi, once, twice and the third time a deeper and longer kiss. He’s still crying, he’s still crying and to damn with that because he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is the man in his arms and how much he means to him.

He doesn’t want to break the kiss, but he’s beginning to lose breath and he knows Soushi is too. But if he could, if he just could, he’d stay like this with Soushi.

“A-Albrecht?” Soushi’s face is flushed pink, but the worry is still there in his eyes. The man wipes away the tears on Albrecht’s cheeks. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he says it gently, so gently that Albrecht’s chest is hurting again.

He kisses Soushi again. His eyes water with a fresh batch of tears and he chokes back a sob. “Don’t leave me… I can’t… I can’t imagine my life without you, Soushi… Don’t leave… Gefallen…” Please…

Soushi embraces him and the warmth, the familiar warmth and scent that only spells Soushi brings a sense of calm to him. But he’s still crying, sobbing and wheezing out words that plead Soushi to stay with him and promises of changing for the better if Soushi wants him to.

The older male pulls back slightly, to look into Albrecht’s eyes. His brow is furrowed and he holds Albrecht’s cheeks, kissing Albrecht softly on the lips.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says with determined purple eyes. “Albrecht, I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m here, and I’ll stay with you, no matter what.” Then he smiles. “It would take more than a divine force to get me away from you.”

Albrecht hides his face in the crook of Soushi’s neck and he cries, letting the older man rock him and caress him, and whispering more reassurances that Albrecht clings on.

Soushi won’t go.

He doesn’t see colours.

Scream. Yell. Cry.

In his vision, it’s all black and white.

Scream.

Nobody is moving.

Yell.

He’s alone.

Cry.

Tasuku Ryuenji stares. He stares, and stares at the sunset over the mountains, at the buildings cast in an orange glow, at the looming shadows that make him flinch back because he’s almost certain they’re going to swallow him whole, body and soul.

But then he realizes, what is there to swallow?

He is the same Tasuku, the same boy cop wonder, and yet he is not the same Tasuku, he is not the same boy cop wonder. He’s Tasuku Ryuenji, the Purgatory Knight, and a member of Disaster. He is a shell of his past, an empty cocoon without a butterfly emerging anytime soon.

It is a truth. It is a fact. It is what he has chosen to be.

Tasuku takes a breath, lets it linger, and exhales like it’s a sigh. But it’s not a sigh. He’s trying, trying to see if there’s a part of him that wants out of here, tries to see if there’s a single area within his mind that says, Stop.

Nothing.

He gets nothing.

To say he is at peace, it would be a lie. To say he is at war, it would be a misunderstanding. He is not at peace nor is he at war. He is merely there, in the distorted grey world, merely an existence and a shell of who he was.

The wind blows and he feels his hair move slightly and he closes his eyes. He thinks of back then when he first used Future Force and how uncomfortable it felt to suddenly have long unruly hair. He remembers how Jack chuckled, saying he looked a bit ridiculous with the flowing hair like Rapunzel.

That’s why I don’t want you to care about me anymore, Jack!

It would save Jack the pain. It would save him the pain of seeing Tasuku doing this. If Jack would stop caring, it would put Tasuku at ease too, he thinks. If their ties could be broken, everything would be so much easier. But his words, his words from a long time ago comes back to bite at him.

Then Gao is there.

He clenches his fists, bites his lips, because why did Gao have to get involved in this?

Stay true to yourself.

He says that to Gao, he says that to Gao and he means it. Tasuku can change; he can change at the cost of his life. It’s not okay for Gao to change. It’s not.

Tasuku changes, sacrifices and twists himself, his life and his identity. He will do everything, willing to sacrifice anything if it means the safety of the future and world. If it means the safety of the people he knows, their happiness granted and their futures secured.

He’s doing this because he knows nobody else will.

So he sacrifices himself, just one person, one kid to be the one that protects everybody. Because he knows that is what he is meant to do. Everyone else, everyone who is innocent, they all deserve the outcome of his doings. They all deserve the fun of Buddyfighting and the bonds they get to make with their Buddies and their rivals and their friends.

He doesn’t need that. He doesn’t want that.

(He does want that. He does.)

He is fine like this. He is fine without anything—without glory, without companionship, without anything but him and the shell he has of himself, an empty shell, one that echoes with whispers he wishes he could stop hearing.

He hears the voices of Jack, of Gao, of Stella, Mr. Takihara and Commander I and the voices of everyone else he knows by face but not so by name. He hears the distress in their voices, sees the worry on their faces and—No.

He is past that. He is past all of those who hold him back, who are his weaknesses. In the end, he is doing this for them. And they can deny it, they can say it’s not right as much as they want but he knows better.

Sometimes doing the right thing means doing the wrong thing.

And that’s why his world is now grey. There is no white, there is no black—there is no distinct good and there is no distinct bad. It’s his distorted grey world, where he can only feel the weight inside of him and where he can only see his destiny in front of him.

He takes a breath and opens his eyes.

The dark of the night welcomes him and he steps back in surprise.

The sun has disappeared a long while ago, the literal sun and the Mighty Sun Fighter—both of them gone. Jack is gone too. This dark starless night makes him realize he’s lost them all. He’s lost them all.

He turns his back towards the horizon and walks away.

He has nothing. And he’ll be fine. Because this is how it should be, him in the shadows doing what he wants to do the most—saving people, saving everyone—and receive nothing in return but everyone’s smiles and happy faces when all of this is over.

 And he’s left to worry. He doesn’t think he should be but he is. His friends understand. Drum understands, Baku and Kuguru understands, even Tetsuya, Jin and basically everyone else understands. They tell him it’s okay to worry over it.  It’s normal, because Tasuku’s his rival.

It’s been twelve weeks.

It didn’t become just a case for the Buddy Police, it had to be extended to the actual police too—one where large search groups were funded, because Tasuku is still a kid. The media was in an uproar from day one and it still is. Nobody has caught sight of him. Nobody has seen a clue of him. Search parties came back empty-handed and disappointed. Not even tracking Tasuku’s Star Pulsar proved to be of any help—it’s like he disappeared from the world.

Everyone wants to know where the boy wonder, Tasuku Ryuenji, and his Buddy Jackknife Dragon are. Everybody asks the same questions, nobody has the same answer. Everything is varied and speculations run wild. Conspiracies float around like birds searching for a place to sleep. The pressure proved to be too much when the Buddy Police finally disclosed important information to the public.

Tasuku had gone missing before.

It was for a couple of hours, they said. He was on a mission before his signal disappeared entirely. When he came back by his own efforts, he claimed to have been sent to the Dragon World to battle another dragon. They decided the same thing happened… only this time, Tasuku hasn’t come back.

More search parties were founded, consisting of volunteer Buddy monsters. Drum joined and the parties scavenged the multiple worlds high and low. And every time, they came back with no results; not even a lead.

Gao is restless.

Three months, it’s been three months. The media updates have slowed down and Gao resorts to Drum and Asmodai for news. Each time he asks, he gets a shake of the head for an answer. It’s killing him from the inside. It’s been so long people are beginning to fear the worst. He doesn’t want to buy it. Miracles can happen, when you need them the most and when you least expect them to.

He tries to not worry over it, he tries to eat and sleep but it’s hard. It’s hard when there’s no final answer to an important question. The many ‘what if’s wrap him like a rough and hard blanket. He doesn’t know how much longer he can take it before he drops into the scene himself, with or without permission from the higher-ups. He knows Drum will help him, and so will his many friends. He knows they’ll be more than willing to help him.

So why isn’t he?

Gao knows that in usual conditions, he would have gone after the missing boy at once. Drum must have noticed the unusual, and if Drum noticed then Kuguru and Baku must’ve noticed. Why isn’t he doing something? The authority can’t stop him and he’s got his friends to support him, why isn’t he out there, looking for Tasuku too?

He wishes he has an answer but as it is, answers are the hardest things to find right now. Nobody can find it, the solution to a complex puzzle created by fate. He’s stuck here and the boy wonder is somewhere out there, God knows where.

Fate works in weird ways. It never tells you things directly, and more often than not fate reveals the truth to you when things are a little too late.

He is too late.

Gao had been walking, a casual walk from the convenience store back to his house. Drum isn’t with him because the dragon is watching over the house with Hanako and Granny. And he thinks it might not be a good idea to have left his Buddy at home when he gets the feeling that he’s being watched.

It’s not paranoia, he hopes, because if it is he’d be really embarrassed with himself. But he also hopes it is paranoia because he doesn’t think anybody following a kid in the dead of night has good intentions. He really should’ve brought Drum with him. Come on man, can’t you sense when your Buddy’s in danger?

He doesn’t think he should be worried for himself because he’s got moves of his own, he’d be more than glad to take down whoever’s stalking him. But in the same time, what if it’s not enough? What if there are more than three and all of them are grown strong men? He probably can handle it, no biggie, but like always, fate works in weird ways and you can never be certain of what’s going to happen.

Like, the whisper of his name in the wind, maybe.

The redhead stops dead in his tracks. That wasn’t his imagination, he supposes. But some factors bother him. The ‘hearing his name in the wind’ part? Yeah, he can handle that. The ‘whoa, that sounded like Tasuku’ thought he had? No.

He takes in his surroundings. He’s not stupid enough to take a shortcut through an ominous alley and it’s not like he’s in a hurry in the first place so he’s walking down the side of the road in the neighbourhood where the chances of a car running into him are drastically low. He can’t shake the bad feeling though, and nothing’s more accurate than your own gut feeling.

He decides to wait. He wants to get whatever this is over with; it’s no good dragging himself home with something bad etching at the edge of his mind. He wouldn’t want to worry Drum, Hanako and Grandma.

“Gao…”

His hands clench into fists. He turns around, glaring into the darkness that’s not lit by a street lamp. He sees it—a pair of red eyes staring right back into his golden ones. His breath catches in his throat. He can feel his heartbeat increase and the energy leaving his body. Can the dark play illusions on him? He’s not sure.

It’s scary, he admits it. It’s scary when two wide red eyes stare at him, not even blinking. He thinks about running but he’s not sure to where. Away? Closer? He’s not sure he can anyway, because his whole body feels paralyzed.

“Tasuku…?” he manages to get out, his voice cracking midway. He didn’t expect it to but it did. Not like he cares in the first place when his attention is solely on the figure hiding in the shadows. Something curls in his stomach and he’s not sure what to make of it. Fear? Excitement? Terror? Anticipation? This emotion he feels, it can be one out of a hundred.

A hand on the wall reaches out from behind the veil of black. The hand looks dirty and bruised and weakly it seems to be supporting the figure’s weight as the figure makes way towards him. Instinct makes Gao take a step back.

But then he sees it. Blue hair peeks through and a Buddy Police uniform makes an appearance. There are holes here and there, torn fabric and dark dry splotches that Gao’s not sure what to make of. There’s dirt on his face and a fresh cut on his left ankle, not dripping with blood but with a liquid that’s a far darker shade instead, almost pitch black.

The sight of Tasuku’s condition sets his heart to break.

Gao runs towards him, catching the blue haired boy by the shoulders just as his knees buckle underneath his weight. “Tasuku! Hey Tasuku, can you hear me?!” his voice breaks, really breaks this time, and he can feel his eyes watering. The redhead sets Tasuku on the ground gently, who coughs. But his red eyes are still wide—as if he had seen the face of Lucifer himself. Gao shakes him lightly when he doesn’t respond, the dread and worry growing by the second. The colour drains from his face but he reassures himself, or tries to, by rationalizing that he’s still breathing. Tasuku’s still breathing and alive, so he has to be okay. Tasuku is okay.

He finally gets some reaction from the blue haired boy, but it’s not quite the reaction he expects to get. Tasuku’s hand reaches up, cupping his face and he feels the rough fingers on his cheek, causing him to almost flinch away. “Tasuku…?” he tests slowly, and he sees a flicker of recognition in those red eyes. But the red disappears as Tasuku shuts his eyes tight and a painful groan escapes him.

Tasuku turns to the side a little, his mouth opening wide in another strangled scream and the hand that had been holding Gao’s face moves towards his blue hair and pulling. He’s pulling his hair so hard Gao fears he’d pull a handful off but it doesn’t happen.

 Gao watches worriedly, feeling completely useless at the fact that he can’t help him. What can he do? What is there to do? How can he lessen the pain? There must be a way for him to help, damn it! Tasuku disappears for who knows how long and comes back to him like this? What kind of prank is this?! It’s not funny, it’s damned not funny.

“Tasuku, talk to me, man...!”

“G-Get away, Gao,” Tasuku rasps weakly. “Get a-away from m-me…”

All the worry he has been feeling up until now melts into bewilderment. Somewhere deep inside him he can feel a tiny spark of anger flaring up too. Leave him? When he’s like this?

“Forget it. You need help!”

“I don’t!” Tasuku shouts. He pushes himself up on his elbows and attempts to crawl, but his body is too tired to even commit that. He stumbles back to the ground without much progress in his escape, moreover when Gao holds him back by his shoulders.

“Do you even realize the condition you’re in?! Come on, I’m taking you home. We’re fixing you up and you’re not leaving until I have a say whether or not you’re better!” Gao says and from the tone of his voice there’s no arguing with him. His words are firm and absolute; he sees no reason for Tasuku to go against him.

Tonight has been one unexpected event after another. And apparently, the night still has much in store for him.

When Gao tries to get the other to stand, he’s taken by surprise as Tasuku throws himself onto him with his hands curling around his neck. The tackle causes Gao to lose his balance and the both of them to crash to the ground with a loud thud. But Gao can barely process the pain in his head and back when he can hardly take a breath.

Tasuku is strangling him.

He tries to get words out, tries to pry away the hands trapping him just for the sake of air. But Tasuku, despite looking like he was going to die in seconds earlier, has him under a strong grip and he can’t fight him. He’s losing breath and the last thing he’s going to see is Tasuku’s grimace and wild insane eyes.

Just as he feels himself at his limit, the fingers around his neck loosen and Gao gasps for air, coughing midway. He turns his head when he feels Tasuku’s weight leave his body, and the blue haired boy is staring at him with frightened eyes.

“G-Gao…” his voice shakes. He tries to reach out to Gao with one trembling hand but immediately retracts it. “I-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry but p-please, you need to leave me alone. I… I don’t want you hurt.”

Gao coughs again. He shakes his head. “Not an option,” he says, though it sounds hoarse. He lets another cough through, trying to clear his throat. “I want to help you. And to damn if you won’t let me. You were missing for three months man, and that’s not exactly a short time!”

Tasuku gasps. “T-Three months…? Are you sure?”

Gao narrows his eyes. “What happened to you?” his face falls. He can feel the sting in his nose again. “You disappeared so suddenly and nothing anybody did could find a trace of you. People were… saying things. And I was beginning to believe them—until tonight.”

Tasuku flinches. “J-Just pretend this never happened. Just p-pretend you never saw me.”

“Saw you? You were the one who followed me, weren’t you? You even called out to me!”

“P-Please Gao, just forget this. You’ll end up h-hurt…”

“I told you, I want to hel—!”

Anger flashes by Tasuku’s eyes. “You can’t, Gao! You can’t help me! No matter what you say or do, I can’t be saved at all…” his voice takes a melancholic turn by the end of his sentence. He diverts his face away from Gao, breaking their eye contact, and says in a desperate plea, “I’m b-begging you Gao, run away from me while you still can…”

As the expected answer, Gao shakes his head. His hands clench into fists and he brings himself closer to Tasuku, promptly ignoring the fact that the other tried to scoot away. “Come on man, whatever’s going on I’ll see it to the end with you. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“No, y-you don’t understand…” Tasuku spares him a glance and there are tears in his red eyes. He dares to reach out again, gently leaving featherlike touches on Gao’s skin. “T-There’s so much you don’t k-know.”

Gao decides to hold Tasuku’s hand, the one that’s touching him. He has something on the tip of his tongue, words that are ready to scramble out, words of comfort and promises when Tasuku leans in close. He’s taken aback by the sudden invasion of privacy but quickly recomposes himself. He really doesn’t understand what’s going on anymore.

“Tasuku…?”

“Gao…” he breathes, still coming in close. Their eyes are locked together, gold meeting red, and Tasuku has his eyes half-lidded. Gao’s instincts are telling him to run but he’s ignoring all the warning bells. Tasuku wouldn't harm him again, right?

That is, until he saw the fangs.

One pair of canines, sharp and long, is protruding from inside Tasuku’s mouth. They, without a doubt, remind Gao of the creatures that are weak against the sunlight, the creatures that drink blood, the creatures that are a myth—the creatures that Tasuku has now become one of.

“Tasuku?!” he gasps, terror quaking through this body. He tries to scramble away but somehow Tasuku has secured a grip on him again without him realizing, this time on his wrists. His legs are rendered useless for the second time that night as Tasuku sits on top of them. With the one hand that’s not holding his wrists up, Tasuku tilts his head to the side, earning him a much clearer access of Gao’s neck as he licks his lips.

He squirms, pulls and pushes but all of the methods prove useless especially when Tasuku lays him down on his back. He sees Tasuku baring his fangs in a wide grin, the wild glint in his eyes from earlier returning. “I’ve longed to have a taste of your blood, Gao,” he chuckles. “I’ve waited for so long…”

Panic sets in and his struggles for escape multiply. But the Tasuku on top of him, the Tasuku he doesn’t recognize, doesn’t even budge. Instead, he looks amused, like a cat playing with a dead bird.