#tkdb rambles

AAAAA

OH MY LORD SHIELD THOSE EYES CHILDREN THOSE SHOULDERS ARE OUT AND BARE AND NAKED AND ONLY MINE TO SEE..

rip jin.. rue the day you broke up with our queen. how is this dress so demure and sultry at the same time... she literally looks so good in it i'm gonna bash my head against the wall a thousand times until her wings and halo come out.

since jin's been the one who normally supplies her ballroom dresses, I wonder who sent her this one.. because it'd be weird asf if he was like "hey I know I made you flee in fear and completely tore any semblance of a bond we had apart and probably made you breakdown once you got back to clementia, but you would look really hot in this dress so wear it."

nahh my money is on her two besties hodge and podge making the dress. they're the only darkwick staff actively taking care of her during her depression. and i don't know if darkwick themselves even care enough to give our girl a dress one last time.. look at the state of clementia this whole game.

there is a moment before things change. a moment before the unraveling. jin kamurai’s office door loomed over you like a gate to something irrevocable, your heart beating a frantic rhythm beneath the soft sweater you'd chosen that morning. it felt absurd, almost laughable, that you dressed with such care for this moment - the moment before you offer your heart like an unguarded throat.

“obviously.”

his voice is flat, a stone skipping over the surface of still water. he's not even looking up from the reports, as if he was expecting this. honestly he already knew what you were going to say. he has seen it before, felt it before, countless times, his whole life. the lingering glances, the stolen moments of hesitation, the way people like you always seemed to hover at the edge of his world, never quite brave enough to step inside but never willing to walk away either.

“i really like you,” you had said, voice small and quivering. “i just wanted to tell you.”

"of course you do", he sighs. "it was bound to happen eventually. i have the good looks, the noble name, and i’m captain of frostheim.” he says, like he’s offering an explanation.

“you should focus on your work instead of wasting my time on stupid things like this,” he continues, disinterested, like he’s already moving on.

“it’s pathetic.”

he gingerly exhales. dragging a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair like this is an inconvenience.

your fingers tighten in the fabric. “oh,” your mouth is dry. you swallow, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

your heart beats too fast, too loud, and you hate it. you hate that you're here, hates that you're doing this, but it’s too late to take it back.

"just.. that’s not why. i didn’t fall for you because of those things", you almost whimper, the humiliation seeping into your bones. "i like you because of that mission last year. the one at the old border site. when we broke the artifact and were left weaponless against all those things at the rubbles. the way you just jumped in bare handed and fought alone, you didn’t hesitate to put yourself in danger for the rest of us. you didn’t make a big deal out of it, you just "

you exhale, sharp, almost frustrated, like you can’t find the right words.

"- you were cool."

cool.

of course.

"cool?"

his mouth curves, and he lets out a tired chuckle. "like a movie character?" he muses, shaking his head and pressing the palm of his hand to his face. "heroic? charming?"

you blink, startled by his tone, the edge to it, the way it presses too close, too sharp.

"no, that’s not -"

"that’s all it is, isn’t it?" he cuts in, "you admired me. you liked the way i looked, the way i acted, the way i led. and now, you think that means something."

your breath stumbles.

"you think you’re different from the others," he continues, voice measured, cutting, leaving no room for doubt, no room for softness. "but in the end, you’re all the same. just a bunch of idiots thinking i'd care about however my existence makes you feel."

"i -"

"you don’t know me." the words are final. absolute. "you only know what you see. and what you see is exactly what i want people to see."

"but i -" your breath hangs between you, thick and suffocating.

"i know i don’t know you." your voice is quieter now, but not weaker, not pleading. just honest. "but i want to."

"what?"

you don't step forward, don't try to close the space he had put between you, don't reach for something that was already slipping through your fingers. but there is something else in your gaze, something raw and steady and painfully sincere, and it settles deep in his chest, where he does not want it.

"i already saw it - your cold, insensitive side," you continue, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn't stop you. "i saw the way you order people around, the way you discard things you don’t need as if they never mattered. i know that about you. and i still want to know you more."

he watches as you breathe through it, as you straighten your spine despite the quiet tremor in your fingers, as you lift your chin despite the fact that your voice might break if you speak too quickly. but you are not unaffected. he can see that. the pain is there, sitting in your eyes, in the tension in your shoulders. you exhale once, slow, measured, your fingers flexing as if you want to curl them into fists but won’t. and then - you smile. not soft. not warm. not bright. but small. faint. distant.

"yeah," you murmur, and your voice is light. "you were cool."

he says nothing, only watches as you take another step back, as if physically pulling yourself out of his orbit.

"cool as in that was a kind of moment that made my heart skip a beat," you continue, a slight tremor under your voice, and this time, there is something almost wistful in the way you say it, something that is already turning into memory, already being put away. "the kind of moment that made me want to see more sides of you, that made me want to support you. but even if you’ve heard this a thousand times before, don’t think you can dismiss my feelings so easily. you don’t know me either."

he stills. just for a second. just long enough for you to see it.

he almost hated you for it. for not breaking the way you should have, for still standing there even when he had given you every reason to leave. and so, he gave you what you were waiting for.

"then you’ve wasted your breath."

you exhale, shoulders finally relaxing, like you had just set something away in your mind for good.

"thank you for listening," you say, "i won’t let this affect my work anymore."

and then, just like that, it is over.

you turn without hesitation, without looking back. your steps are careful, controlled, your pace steady, not rushed, not fleeing. and he stands there, silent, hands still tucked into his pockets, watching as he broke you.

and he tells himself he feels nothing.

your fingers are already damp around the neck of another sweating bottle when you realize how much you've been drinking. the burn is welcome, smoothing out the rough edges of your thoughts, dulling that old, familiar ache in your chest. you don’t want to think about jin. don’t want to think about the way his voice had sounded - so flat, so unmoved. like it hadn’t cost him anything. you knock back another sip.

a laugh cuts through the noise, sharp and easy. you know that laugh. turn your head and see him - haku, lounging near the bar, one arm draped over the back of a chair, the other nursing a half-empty glass. his uniform jacket is missing, sleeves rolled up like he doesn’t have a care in the world, the veins in his forearms flexing. he catches you looking. grins.

“thought you were allergic to this kind of scene,” he says as you drift closer, half-shouting over the fifteen other ongoing conversations. “what changed?”

your tongue is also loose from the alcohol, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing. that you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for jin. so you just lift your drink and nod your head, a non-answer. haku just looks at you like he understood. (he does.)

“so you got an L from the ice king, huh?” the words shouldn’t sting as much as they do. you shrug, eyes dropping to the floor.

“that’s a shame,” haku continues, and there’s something almost genuine in his voice. but then - “stop making that pathetic face, though. you look like a kicked dog. don’t tell me you’re still in love with that idiot?”

haku watches you for a moment, then leans in, close enough that you can smell the faint trace of coconut and vodka on his breath.

“let’s help you get over him then. should be easy.” his voice dips, playful, but not unserious.

you tilt your head, eyes narrowing skeptically. “how?”

he smirks. “how about you go out with me? we can be friends, but you can kiss me. do other things. distract yourself. what do you think?”

his eyes glint under the shifting lights, the weight of the bassline pressing between them. something in his voice half a joke, half not.

you blink.

and then you laugh.

because it’s haku. haku, who flirts like it’s breathing, who’s probably said some version of this line at least twenty times tonight alone. haku, who once told a spirit she was the most beautiful ghost he’d ever seen before exorcising her five minutes later.

you shake your head, amusement curling at the edges of your lips. “actually, that sounds like a great idea,” you say, matching his tone, matching his game. then you tip your chin up, eyes glinting under the shifting lights. “should we start now?”

his smirk stretches, lazy, knowing. he doesn’t answer right away - just watches you like he’s waiting for something. maybe for you to break first, to laugh it off, to take it back. but you don’t. and suddenly, the air between you feels different. thicker. heavier.

haku tilts his head, gaze dipping briefly to your lips before flicking back up. and then, he grins like he’s won something.

“you’re dangerous when you drink, huh?”

you hum, feigning innocence. “i have no idea what you mean.”

he chuckles, tipping his glass against yours in a slow, deliberate clink.

“alright then,” he says, like he’s accepting a challenge. “let’s see where this goes.”

the heat of the party presses in from all sides, but suddenly, it feels like the only real thing in the room is the space between you and haku. the crowd is still moving, the music is still pounding, people are still drinking and laughing and existing around you, but it all feels a little distant now, like background noise to whatever this is.

his eyes don’t leave yours, that lazy grin still playing on his lips, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll flinch. if you’ll break first. you don’t.

you take another sip of your drink, the alcohol humming in your veins, making everything feel a little looser, a little easier.

“so,” he says, tipping his glass back, swallowing the last of whatever was inside. “if we’re starting now, what’s the move?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “you’re the one who made the offer, figure it out.”

he exhales a short laugh, then tilts his head, considering. the dim, shifting lights cast sharp lines over his face, catching the faint sheen of sweat at his temple. you can tell he’s enjoying this—this little back-and-forth, this game - but there’s something else under it, something you can’t quite place.

then, without warning, he leans in.