YourlocalDouma

Your heart leaped to your throat. You barely had time to brace yourself when strong arms caught you effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Careful.”

You looked up to see Mash Burnedead staring at you.

“I—oh my god—thank you.” you stammered, your hands gripping his arms instinctively.

Mash didn’t let go right away. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he gently set you on your feet. “You’re welcome.”

You dusted yourself off, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. Mash, meanwhile, was already turning away, sneaking toward the exit.

“You’re leaving?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah.”

For some reason, you found yourself following him. “Mind if I join you for a bit?”

Mash glanced at you, then nodded. And so, you walked together, the sounds of the party fading behind you.

For someone everyone called a hero, Mash was… surprisingly normal. He wasn’t arrogant or overly serious. He just liked cream puffs, quiet places, and working out. You found yourself laughing at his dry humor, at how he casually talked about things like muscles being the answer to everything.

“Mash! There you are!”

You turned to see his friends approaching—Lance, Dot, Finn, and Lemon. Their eyes flickered between the two of you, curious.

You took that as your cue. “Well, I should get back to my friends. Thanks again.”

“See you.”

That night had been a strange one, but after the party, you didn’t see much of Mash Burnedead. Not in any meaningful way, at least.

Of course, you’d catch glimpses—him standing at a distance when you passed by, his eyes tracking your movements with that same unreadable stare. A few times, he made small attempts to approach you, casual and unassuming. A greeting in the hallway, a question about class, a quiet offer of a cream puff when he happened to have extra.

But more often than not, your friends would pull you away before you could respond.

“You shouldn’t talk to him” they’d say. “Just because he saved us all doesn’t mean he belongs here.”

It was an ugly truth, but magic ruled this world. And Mash, for all his strength and miracles, had none. Some people tolerated him now, respected him even. But others—like your friends—still clung to old beliefs.

“He’s a fraud.” one of them muttered one day when they caught him watching from across the courtyard.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to think.

----

The usual chatter of students filled the academy halls, but something felt off. A tension in the air, an unspoken weight pressing down. You didn’t think much of it—until you turned a corner and saw them.

Your friends. And Mash.

They had pulled him aside in a secluded part of the courtyard, away from wandering eyes. Mash stood there, expression blank, as your so-called friends spoke in hushed but sharp tones.

“You don’t belong here, Burnedead” one of them sneered. “You’ve already gotten what you wanted, right? Your fake title, your praise. So why are you still hanging around?”

Another one scoffed. “Do you really think people see you as an equal? You’re a joke.”

Mash didn’t react. Not a twitch, not a flinch. He just stood there, completely unbothered.

But you heard everything. And something inside you snapped.

“What the hell are you doing?” you said, stepping between them.

Your friends stiffened in surprise. “We’re just talking” one of them said, forcing a smile. “You should—”

“No. I don’t want to hear it.” You turned to Mash, your voice softening. “Are you okay?”

Mash blinked at you. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“See?” One of your friends laughed nervously. “No harm done. It’s just—”

“I don’t care.”

They fell silent. You inhaled deeply, steadying yourself, before looking at them dead in the eyes.

“If being your friend means treating someone like this, then I’m fine with not playing with you.”

They looked at you, then at Mash, then back at you. And then, without another word, they turned and walked away.

You didn’t watch them leave. Instead, you turned back to Mash, expecting him to brush it off like he always did. Instead, he just… stared at you.

“Uh… I hope that wasn’t weird or anything.”

“No,” he said, “It wasn’t weird.”

Your so-called friends never spoke to you again after that day.

At first, it was just cold silence—no greetings, no eye contact, no acknowledgment of your existence. You were fine with that. You had already made your choice.

But then, the petty revenge started.

A tripping spell aimed at your feet in the hallway. A bucket of water “accidentally” tipping over just as you passed by. An entire swarm of frogs conjured into your locker.

You should have been miserable. You should have been soaked, humiliated, struggling to shake off the cruel tricks.

But none of them ever reached you.

Somehow, every single attempt failed.

You never noticed it at first. You’d walk through a hallway where a trip spell had been cast, only to feel the floor perfectly stable beneath your feet. You’d open your locker, expecting books, not frogs. And yet, there was nothing but your usual neatly stacked belongings.

It wasn’t until one day, when you heard a frustrated shout from down the hall, that you saw it.

Mash. Standing calmly with a bucket of water in one hand, completely untouched by the spell that was meant for you. He tilted his head, looking at the group of students who had set the trap, then—without a word—dumped the water over their heads instead.

Your ex-friends went pale. You had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

It wasn’t long before the pettiness turned into something uglier.

A real fight.

You weren’t there to see it, but you heard the aftermath. How they had cornered Mash, trying to force him to stop interfering. How they had thrown everything they had at him—spells, illusions, underhanded tricks.

How he had barely even tried and still crushed them.

It wasn’t a long battle.

Mash simply stood there, taking every attack like they were nothing, before stepping forward and ending it with a single punch.

They never bothered you again after that.

And when you finally caught up with Mash later that day, he just handed you a cream puff, completely unfazed, like nothing had ever happened.

“Here,” he said. “You didn’t get to eat lunch.”

“Mash… did you...”

He tilted his head. “Did I what?”

You sighed, taking the cream puff. “Never mind. Thanks, Mash.”

“Anytime.”

---

It was surreal.

Rayne Ames—the Rayne Ames—stood before you, his sharp golden eyes watching you with that cool, unreadable expression. He had approached you out of nowhere, asking about Mash. Simple questions, nothing out of the ordinary. How was he in class? Did he ever talk about his training? Did he seem different lately?

You answered as best as you could, unsure why he was asking, and once he got what he needed, he left just as quickly as he came.

And that was that.

But after that day, your life started changing.

With your old friends out of the picture, you knew you had to move on. Mash’s group was welcoming, always ready to include you in their chaotic fun. But still, they had each other. They were a solid unit, bound by deep friendship and battles you hadn’t been a part of. You were an outsider, someone they liked but didn’t necessarily need.

So, you drifted. Talked to other students. Tried to find your own place.

And somehow… Rayne Ames kept showing up.

It was never anything dramatic. He didn’t actively seek you out, but he always seemed to be there—watching, listening, stepping in when things got too chaotic. You assumed he was just keeping tabs on Mash.

And Mash did not like that.

You didn’t notice it at first, but his little habits started changing. The way he always hovered a little closer when Rayne was around. The way he interrupted conversations with his usual deadpan nonsense—offering you cream puffs, randomly commenting on Rayne’s hair, or straight-up picking you up and carrying you somewhere else without a word.

Rayne, of course, remained unfazed by all of it. If anything, he found it amusing.

----

You had been experimenting with baking lately, and since Mash always seemed to appreciate sweet things, you figured, why not? A simple, homemade cake as a small thank-you for everything.

On your way to find him, you ran into Lemon, who, upon seeing the cake in your hands, lit up with excitement.

“Oh! If you’re looking for Mash, I can take you to his place!” she offered cheerfully.

You hesitated for a moment—going to Mash’s house wasn’t exactly part of the plan—but Lemon was already leading the way, and before you knew it, you were standing at his doorstep.

The door was unlocked, so Lemon let herself in, calling out, “Mash! You have a visitor!”

You barely had time to process what was happening before you heard the sound of weights clanking. As you stepped inside, your eyes landed on him.

Mash Burnedead, mid-workout, lifting what had to be insanely heavy dumbbells as if they were nothing.

You had always known Mash was strong. You’d seen him punch through walls like they were made of paper, carry people as if they weighed nothing.

But seeing him like this, up close—it was different.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that you were staring.

Mash set the weights down before turning to you. “Oh. You came.”

You quickly held up the cake. “I, uh—yeah! I baked this and thought you might like some.”

“Thanks.”

You didn’t stay long after that. You made an excuse to leave early, not missing how Mash watched you the entire time you walked out the door.

The next day, you didn’t show up to school.

At first, no one thought much of it. But by midday, whispers started. Even Rayne seemed mildly concerned, casually asking if anyone knew where you were.

But Mash knew something was wrong.

Because when he woke up that morning, the first thing he did was check his front porch—where he had left the empty cake box after finishing the last slice.

It was gone.

Someone had taken it.

And now, you were missing.

Where were you?

The world was spinning. Your body ached, your skin burned, and every breath you took sent sharp pains through your ribs.

It hadn’t been a fair fight—far from it.

Your old "friends" hadn’t come after you themselves, no. They were too cowardly for that. Instead, they had hired someone else—someone stronger, someone ruthless—to make sure you stayed down.

And they had done their job well.

You barely remembered how it ended. All you knew was that your body couldn't take any more, and at some point, you had collapsed against a wall, waiting for the pain to swallow you whole.

You barely registered the faint sound of bones breaking or the low, terrifyingly calm voice that followed.

"You shouldn't have touched them."

The first thing you feel is warmth. Next is the soft pressure of bandages wrapped around your arms, your ribs. Someone had taken care of you.

Your eyes flutter open slowly, adjusting to the lighting of the unfamiliar room. Your head feels heavy, and for a brief moment, your mind is blank. Someone was sitting next to you.

You try to speak, but your throat is dry. He notices. Before you can even think, he’s already reaching for a glass of water, pressing it into your hands.

“…Mash?” your voice is hoarse. “…What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

You shake your head, wincing at the dull pain. Your memories are foggy—blurry figures, flashes of magic, a crushing sense of helplessness. But beyond that? Nothing.

Mash watches you carefully, his fingers tapping idly against his arm.

"You got hurt. I handled it."

You’re too tired to question it. Instead, you focus on something else.

“…Where am I?”

Mash tilts his head slightly. “My house.”

You glance down at yourself—the fresh bandages, the blanket draped over you.

"You took care of me?"

He nodded.

A thought crosses your mind, something nagging at the edges of your blank memories. Something important.

You look at him, hesitating. "…Mash. What are we?"

“We’re together.”

“…What?”

“I’m your boyfriend” he says, like it’s the simplest truth in the world.

And somehow, even though your memories are gone—

You believe him.

Lemon sobbed the moment she found out.

You didn’t get it.

Why was she crying so much? Weren’t you and Mash always like this? Weren’t things normal?

She clung to your hands, wailing about how “true love prevails” and “you’re finally safe” while Finn awkwardly patted her back, clearly unsure how to handle the situation.

No one in the group pushed further.

You weren’t sure if it was because of your injuries or something else, but he barely let you out of his sight. If you walked, he was right beside you. If you sat down, he positioned himself strategically—either next to you or across from you, always watching, always ready.

You were just about to take a bite when Mash suddenly—without a word—took the food right out of your hands.

He inspected it. Took a bite. Chewed.

“…Too sweet.”

Then, he grabbed another piece from your tray. Ate that too.

“…Too spicy.”

Then another.

“…Too bitter.”

By the time he was done testing everything, you were left staring at your now-half-empty plate, completely baffled.

“Mash,” you deadpanned. “You ate most of my lunch.”

He blinked at you. “I was making sure it was okay.”

“…You didn’t have to eat all of it.”

“…I’ll get you more.”

And then, without hesitation, he stood up and walked off—probably to find something “safer” for you to eat.

You sighed, rubbing your temples as Lemon giggled beside you. “He’s so attentive!” she swooned. “Taking care of his beloved like a true gentleman!”

You weren’t sure about that, but you didn’t argue.

You thought Mash being overly cautious was limited to food.

You were wrong.

While walking through campus, Mash suddenly spawned over, his muscles tensing as he stared at something in the distance.

Then—without warning—he picked up a rock and chucked it.

The entire group turned, just in time to see a now flattened stone that had been in your path.

Mash nodded to himself, satisfied, before continuing to walk like nothing happened.

“…Mash,” you finally said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.”

“…It was just a rock.”

“It was in your way.”

Lemon whispered, “He’s so in love.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that.

----

You weren’t content with just not knowing.

There were gaps in your mind, blank spaces where memories should be. And it wasn’t just frustrating—it was unnerving. Every time you tried to grasp at the edges of something important, it slipped through your fingers like sand.

So, you did what any rational person would do.

You started digging.

Asking around. Looking through old notes, trying to see if anything sparked recognition.

But for some reason—every single time you got close—Mash was there.

Sometimes, he’d distract you—offering you more sweets, pulling you into his usual nonsense, finding ways to keep you occupied. Other times, it was more direct.

Like the time he just… picked you up and walked away when you asked Lemon too many questions.

Or the time you almost found your old diary, only for it to mysteriously vanish.

And then, there was the worst one—

You had been talking to Rayne.

It was a casual conversation at first, but then, you asked.

“Do you know what happened to me before I lost my memory?”

Rayne had gone silent. His gaze flickered over your shoulder, and when you turned—

Mash was already there.

“…Come on” he said, voice as steady as ever. “You need to eat.”

Rayne didn’t say anything, only watching as Mash practically dragged you away.

---

Finn wasn’t expecting to walk into this.

It was a normal day—nothing out of the ordinary. But when he turned the corner, he saw Mash standing there, gripping the edge of a table so tightly it looked like he might break it.

“Uh. Mash?”

Mash didn’t respond.

Finn frowned, stepping closer. “Mash, what’s wrong?”

No response, just that stupid blank stare, but there was something off about it. Something shaking beneath the surface.

Finn had known Mash for a while now.

Whatever it was—

It had to do with you.

So, he sighed, scratching the back of his head before offering a small, reassuring smile.

“Whatever’s going on” he said, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Mash finally moved—his grip loosening just slightly. He looked at Finn.

“You’re Mash Burnedead. You don’t lose, right?”

A long pause.

Then, finally—Mash nodded.

-----

Dot was hiding.

It was rare to see him so quiet, so serious. But today, he was focused.

A thick branch in his hands, his grip tight. He crouched near the hallway, waiting—watching.

Then, the moment you walked by—he swung the thing to your head.

Or at least, that was the plan.

Because before the branch could even come close to hitting you, a strong hand caught it mid-air.

You turned just in time to see the silent battle of wills taking place.

“…Mash?” You tilted your head. “Dot?”

Neither answered.

Mash’s grip on the branch tightened, cracking the wood slightly. Dot gulped. Sensing that things were about to get messy, you quickly grabbed Mash’s sleeve and pulled him away.

The moment you turned the corner toward the classroom—

You tripped.

Your foot slipped against the wet floor, your balance completely thrown off. You hit the ground hard. The world blurred for a moment, your vision swimming in and out of focus. Voices echoed distantly, panicked, but you couldn’t make out the words.

Everything faded.

You woke up later on, trying to piece together what had happened. But the moment you tried to think back—

Nothing.

Just an empty, hollow void where your memories should be.

You frowned, struggling to sit up. Around you, the group stood in silence—Lance, Dot, Finn, Lemon, and even Rayne to your surprise.

Before you could even question it, the door suddenly slammed open.

He grabbed Dot, then Lance, then Finn, shoving them forward.

“Outside”

Lemon and Rayne exchanged glances but didn’t intervene.

“…What just happened?”

Lemon sighed, shaking her head.

Everything was normal.

Or at least, it was supposed to be.

You went about your day, chatting with Rayne, ignoring the lingering stares from the group. They didn’t say anything about yesterday, didn’t mention the fight Mash had with them outside.

You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

But then—

Mash said something.

It wasn’t even anything big. Just an offhand comment, a simple remark about something only your past self would remember.

Your memories came flooding back out of nowhere.

It hit like a whiplash. Images, emotions, voices all crashing into you at once. The truth you had lost—the reason you had forgotten.

You didn’t even know why you were mad.

But you were.

It wasn’t like he hurt you. It wasn’t like he lied outright.

But he had kept it from you. Had stopped you every step of the way. Had taken advantage of your missing memories just to keep you his.

And right now?

You didn’t want to see him.

Didn’t want to talk to him.

Didn’t want to even look at him.

----

Mash wasn’t good with words.

But he was good at trying.

His first attempt? A written apology.

While you were in class, he stood outside the window, holding up a piece of paper with the words: "I’m sorry."

It would’ve been somewhat effective if he hadn’t written it on a tiny piece of paper that was hard to read from a distance.

Rayne, sitting beside you- just because you asked him to and surely you'll pay him with something else, glanced at it, then at you.

“…Are you really going to let him stand there looking like that?”

You didn’t answer.

The second attempt? Rock arrangements.

You walked outside to find a series of carefully placed stones, spelling out: "I messed up."

Then, underneath it, in slightly smaller rocks: "I’ll fix it."

You huffed, crossing your arms.

Rayne just sighed beside you. “At least he’s consistent.”

And finally—his third attempt?

It was just him.

From afar.

Because you wouldn’t let him near you. Wouldn’t let him explain, wouldn’t let him talk his way back in.

So, instead, he stayed back. Watching.

You weren’t expecting anything strange to happen that night.

You were at home, settling in, finally getting some peace after everything. The last thing you expected was to turn around and—

Mash was inside your house.

You barely held in a scream. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest.

“What the hell—?!” You gasped, stumbling back. “How did you—?”

“I walked in.”

“What do you mean you walked in?!”

“The door was locked, so I broke it.”

You rubbed your temples, inhaling sharply. “Mash, you can’t just—sneak into someone’s house like this.”

“I came to apologize.”

“You—” You sighed, exasperated. “That’s not how apologies work.”

“…Fine” he said. “If you won’t forgive me, then I’ll handle your old friends for causing the accident.”

“And then,” Mash continued, “I’ll leave school.”

He said it so simply. Like it was a decision he had already made.

You didn’t want that.

Not because you weren’t still mad. Not because he didn’t deserve to apologize properly.

But because you knew him.

You knew exactly what he was capable of when he was serious.

“…Mash” you said “you don’t have to do that.”

“But they hurt you.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “but you don’t have to fix everything on your own.”

“All you had to do was ask” you muttered, sighing. “Not—decide what our relationship is without asking me first.”

“…I’m sorry.”

You let out a slow breath. “Alright. Guess I shouldn't be mad at you anymore.”

And just like that, the tension eased.

But what you didn’t know—

Was that Mash had already handled your old friends.

Before coming here.

By the time you had started to forgive him, by the time you had calmed down—