Ishi

Varka would fold his arms across his chest and grin, shaking his head as though he couldn't believe you were actually going to commit to the act. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've suddenly forgotten our little routine." He'd probably imitate the way you usually say it back to him just to make his point, his amusement growing when you continued pretending you had no idea what he was talking about.

Rather than immediately demanding the words, he'd let you enjoy your little joke for a while, approaching you and leaning against the doorway and watching you with that patient, entertained expression of his. You'd get a few steps away before he'd eventually call you back again, his voice carrying that unmistakable teasing warmth.

"You're really going to make me spell it out, aren't you?" When you still refused, he'd finally push himself away from the doorway and stroll over, slipping an arm comfortably around your shoulders as though he'd decided that letting you leave was no longer an option. "You know, I could simply let you go, but then I'd spend the entire day wondering why my favorite farewell suddenly disappeared." He'd give your shoulder a gentle squeeze, clearly far more amused than offended, and when you finally laughed and admitted you were only teasing him, he'd shake his head with a deep chuckle. "Cruel. Absolutely cruel. I leave you alone for five minutes and suddenly you've decided to test me."

Even after you'd confessed that you were joking, Varka wouldn't let you off quite that easily. He'd keep you tucked against his side for another moment, looking down at you with an exaggeratedly wounded expression before the grin returned. "You know, I was beginning to think I'd somehow forgotten something important."

He'd probably laugh at himself for having 'fallen' for it, but the fact that he'd noticed immediately would make it obvious how deeply ingrained your little routine had become.

His affection would be easy and unselfconscious, the sort that showed itself through a hand resting warmly on your shoulder, an arm around your waist, or a quick kiss against your forehead before finally allowing you to go.

Still, just as you reached the door again, he'd stop you with one last amused reminder. "Now, before you go, there's something you're supposed to say." He'd raise his eyebrows expectantly, waiting with exaggerated patience while you tried to make him say it first. Varka would eventually laugh and shake his head. "I'm not doing all the work here."

Once you finally gave in and told him you loved him, his entire expression would immediately brighten into that broad, unmistakable grin. "There we go. Much better."

He'd give you one last affectionate squeeze before releasing you, perhaps watching you walk away with his arms folded and that satisfied look still on his face. And naturally, the moment you glanced back, he'd call after you one final time just to have the last word. "Love you too, troublemaker. Try not to forget next time."

── ( 𝒅. ) Dottore would notice immediately, though his reaction would be far more restrained than the others. You'd give him your usual goodbye, perhaps already halfway through gathering your things and turning toward the door, but when you failed to return his usual declaration, his eyes would follow you with quiet, deliberate attention.

He wouldn't say anything at first. He'd simply watch for a few seconds, almost as though he were waiting to see whether you'd realize your mistake yourself.

When you continued toward the door without a second thought, he'd finally call your name in that calm, measured tone of his. "You're forgetting something." You'd pause and look back at him with an innocent expression, asking what you could possibly have forgotten, and he'd give you the faintest, knowing smile. "Don't insult my intelligence, my dear."

There'd be no uncertainty in his expression, he'd already figured out exactly what you were doing. Rather than immediately approaching you, he'd remain where he was, watching you with an almost amused patience as you continued pretending that you had absolutely no idea what he meant.

He'd let the silence stretch for a moment, perhaps even returning to whatever he'd been doing as though he weren't particularly concerned, but his attention would remain fixed on you.

Eventually, he'd set aside whatever was in his hands and approach at an unhurried pace, stopping in front of you before you could actually leave. "You normally say it back." His tone would remain composed, almost clinical, but there'd be a subtle amusement underneath it, especially when he noticed the smile you were trying to hide. You'd insist that you hadn't forgotten anything, and he'd simply raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?" He'd study your expression for another second before adding, "Then I suppose this is merely a coincidence." The dry sarcasm would make it obvious that he wasn't buying your act for even a moment.

Once you finally admitted that you were deliberately teasing him, Dottore would let out a quiet laugh and shake his head, looking at you with the sort of patient disbelief reserved for someone who had knowingly created a completely unnecessary problem.

"How childish." He'd say it almost dismissively, but there would be no real irritation behind it. In fact, the amusement in his expression would give him away. He'd still make absolutely certain you didn't leave without finishing the little ritual you'd interrupted, though he wouldn't simply demand the words.

Instead, he'd stand there with his hands folded behind his back, looking entirely content to wait you out. The longer you refused, the more entertained he'd become, as though he'd decided the situation had transformed into a battle of patience and he had every intention of winning.

After a while, he might reach out and gently catch your hand before you could turn away again, his thumb brushing once over your knuckles as he looked at you. "You were rather enthusiastic about it yesterday. What has changed?" When you finally laughed and told him you loved him, the satisfaction on his face would be subtle but unmistakable.

His expression would soften into the smallest smile, and he'd give your hand a quiet squeeze before finally allowing you to go. "There. I knew you hadn't suddenly forgotten." You'd probably tease him afterward, pointing out that he'd clearly been waiting for you to say it and had been far more bothered by the missing words than he wanted to admit.

Dottore would simply give you an amused look, completely unwilling to surrender the point. "I merely dislike inconsistencies." He'd pause at the doorway, gaze lingering on you for another moment before adding with deliberate casualness, "Particularly when they concern me." Then he'd finally step aside and let you leave, wearing that faintly satisfied smile that made it painfully obvious he'd gotten exactly what he'd wanted.

── ( 𝒑. ) Pantalone would notice the missing words almost immediately, but he'd handle it with the kind of composed amusement that made it difficult to tell whether he'd been genuinely caught off guard at all.

You'd give him your usual goodbye, perhaps straightening your clothes and gathering whatever you needed before turning toward the door, only for him to pause behind you with a quiet, thoughtful hum.

"Hmm." He'd let the silence linger just long enough for you to wonder whether he'd actually noticed before adding, "That's an unusually incomplete farewell." You'd glance back at him with an innocent expression and pretend not to understand, and his lips would curl into a knowing smile. "Don't worry. I'll give you another opportunity."

Rather than immediately stopping you, he'd allow you to continue toward the door, watching you with that calm, entertained expression as though he'd already decided exactly how this little game would end.

You'd make it several steps before his voice followed you again, smooth and unhurried. "You seem to be forgetting something rather important." Still refusing to give in, you'd probably insist that you hadn't forgotten anything at all, prompting him to give a quiet laugh.

"Is that so?" He'd let you continue pretending for another moment, clearly enjoying how determined you were to maintain the act. Then, he'd approach you himself, not with any urgency but with the effortless confidence he carried in nearly everything he did.

Rather than confronting you directly, he'd casually straighten the collar of your clothing, adjust your coat, or smooth some small wrinkle from your sleeve as though his only concern were making sure you were properly prepared to leave.

His fingers would linger for just a moment before he looked at you with an amused glint. "You really are going to make me ask, aren't you?" The entire exchange would feel less like an argument and more like a private game between the two of you, with Pantalone perfectly content to let you keep teasing him until you finally gave yourself away.

Once you finally admitted that you were deliberately withholding the words just to tease him, Pantalone's expression would soften into a quiet, almost victorious smile. "Ah, so that's what you've been doing." Rather than insisting that you say it immediately, he'd simply shake his head and give you a look that said he'd already forgiven you.

He'd take your things from you, perhaps fixing the strap of your bag or making sure you'd remembered everything before you left, all while occasionally glancing back at you with unmistakable amusement. "You know, for someone in such a hurry to leave, you've certainly managed to delay yourself."

The teasing would continue naturally until the two of you were standing at the doorway, and only then would he lean against the frame and look at you expectantly. He wouldn't ask you to repeat the words because he needed reassurance, he'd simply enjoy watching you finally break character and admit defeat.

The moment you told him you loved him, his smile would widen, and he'd give a small, satisfied nod as though you'd finally reached the obvious conclusion of the game. "There you are." He'd brush a single strand of your hair behind your ear before pressing a brief kiss to your forehead, then step aside to let you pass.

"Now go. Before you decide to torment me again." As you walked away, he'd probably call after you with one final remark, his voice carrying that effortless amusement. "And for the record, you weren't nearly as convincing as you thought you were."

── ( 𝒏. ) Neuvilette would initially assume you had simply forgotten, because the change in your usual farewell would be so unexpected that he wouldn't immediately suspect you were deliberately teasing him.

You'd give him your customary goodbye, perhaps already turning toward the door and gathering your things, and he'd respond with the same calm warmth he always did. Only after a brief pause would he realize that something was missing.

His gaze would follow you for a moment, his expression becoming subtly thoughtful as he replayed the exchange in his mind. "You have forgotten something." You'd stop and look back at him, genuinely innocent as you asked what you could possibly have forgotten, and he'd give you a slightly puzzled look before gently reminding you of the words you normally exchanged before you left.

"You usually say it back." There would be no accusation in his voice, only quiet certainty. When you continued pretending that you had no idea what he meant, he'd study your expression a little longer, eventually noticing the faint amusement you were trying to hide. That would be when understanding finally dawned on him.

His expression would soften, and the smallest smile would appear. "I see. So that was intentional." Rather than becoming embarrassed or trying to force the words from you, he'd simply accept the situation with remarkable patience. He'd let you continue toward the door, perhaps watching you gather your things with an almost amused fondness, before calmly adding, "If you are attempting to tease me, I must admit that it has been rather effective." You'd probably laugh and insist that you hadn't done anything, only for him to raise an eyebrow slightly.

"Of course." The quiet skepticism in his voice would make it obvious that he knew perfectly well what you were doing. Even so, he wouldn't make a fuss. He'd simply remain nearby, allowing the playful silence to stretch while making no attempt to hide the fact that he was waiting for you to finish the little game you'd started.

When you were genuinely about to leave, Neuvillette would call your name once more. There would be something almost gently expectant in his voice now, though he still wouldn't sound demanding. "Before you go." He'd approach you with his usual composed grace, perhaps reaching for your hand and holding it between both of his for a moment.

His thumb would rest lightly against your knuckles while he looked at you with that patient expression, as though he were perfectly willing to stand there for as long as necessary.

The teasing would probably become difficult to maintain once you saw how quietly amused he was by the entire situation, and eventually you'd give in and tell him that you loved him. The faintest smile would immediately appear on his face, subtle but unmistakably genuine.

"Thank you. That is what I was waiting to hear." He'd give your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it, perhaps leaning forward to press a brief kiss to your forehead before finally allowing you to leave.

Once you admitted that you'd only been teasing him, he'd give you a quietly amused look, the sort that carried far more affection than reproach. "Then I shall remember this the next time you are in a hurry to leave." There'd be no actual threat behind the words, only a rare hint of playful teasing from someone who was usually so formal.

── ( 𝐟. ) Flins would notice the missing words quickly, but his reaction would be much quieter and more understated than someone who would immediately call you back or make a dramatic fuss about it.

You'd give him your usual goodbye, already turning toward the door and gathering your things, and he'd remain still for a moment after you finished speaking, his eyes following you with a faintly puzzled expression. Something about the farewell would feel incomplete, and he'd quietly replay it in his head before finally looking at you.

"You're not saying it today?" You'd pause and turn around with an innocent expression, asking what he meant, and he'd give you a long, almost unreadable look. At first, he'd genuinely seem unsure whether you'd forgotten or simply changed your mind, but the faint amusement in your expression would eventually give you away.

His eyes would narrow just slightly before a small, knowing smile appeared. "So that's how it is." He'd understand immediately that you were deliberately withholding the words just to see what he'd do. Rather than rushing after you, he'd remain where he was for another moment, leaning casually against the nearest wall or piece of furniture while watching you prepare to leave.

"You know exactly what you're doing." His voice would remain calm, though there'd be a subtle teasing edge to it now. You'd probably continue pretending not to understand, and he'd simply shake his head with a quiet sigh, almost amused by how committed you were to the joke.

He'd let you take another few steps toward the door, watching with patient attention before eventually pushing himself away from the wall and following at an unhurried pace.

By the time you reached the doorway, he'd gently catch your hand, stopping you without force. "Wait." His fingers would settle comfortably around yours, and he'd look at you with that same restrained little smile. He wouldn't even have to say what he wanted anymore; the silence between you would make it obvious.

He'd hold your hand for a moment, his thumb moving once across your knuckles while he waited for you to finally break character. The longer you tried to maintain your innocent expression, the more amused he'd become, though he wouldn't tease you excessively about it.

Eventually, you'd laugh and admit that you were only messing with him, and Flins would give a quiet exhale that sounded almost like relief mixed with amusement. "I thought so." He'd look down at your joined hands for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

"You seem to really enjoy making things difficult for me." Even then, he wouldn't pressure you to say the words. He'd simply stay there, still holding your hand, until you finally told him that you loved him. The corners of his mouth would lift into a small, genuine smile.

"There it is." His grip would tighten briefly around your hand before he finally let you go, perhaps giving your fingers one last affectionate squeeze. He'd step aside to let you leave, but there'd be a quiet warmth lingering in his expression that made it obvious he'd enjoyed the entire exchange despite himself.

Just before you walked through the doorway, he'd add one last understated remark, his tone carrying the faintest hint of playful reproach. "Don't make a habit of leaving things unfinished." Then he'd watch you go, returning to whatever he'd been doing with the same composed demeanor as before, except for the small smile that would probably remain on his face for a while afterward.

── ( 𝐯. ) Venti would notice immediately and turn the whole thing into an exaggerated tragedy, because there was absolutely no chance he'd let such an obvious opportunity for theatrics pass him by.

You'd give him your usual goodbye, already halfway through the doorway, but without returning his familiar "I love you more," and he'd suddenly go completely still behind you. His eyes would widen as though you'd just delivered the most devastating news imaginable, one hand slowly rising to his chest.

"Oh? That's it?" He'd stare after you in exaggerated disbelief, looking genuinely wounded for precisely long enough to make you wonder whether he'd actually fallen for it. "My beloved has abandoned me without even saying those three little words?" You'd probably turn around laughing, insisting that you hadn't done anything, and Venti would immediately follow you with an increasingly dramatic string of complaints. "How cruel! How could you do this to poor little old me?" He'd trail after you as though he'd been personally betrayed, sighing dramatically and shaking his head while claiming that he'd clearly been forgotten after all this time.

The more you tried to suppress your laughter, the more ridiculous he'd become, perhaps clutching at his chest and announcing that he might never recover from such heartbreak.

When you finally tried to escape through the doorway again, he'd catch your hand and give you a playful twirl back toward him, grinning the moment you stumbled into him.

"Ah-ah, not so fast." He'd hold onto your hand for another moment, looking at you with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "You can't simply leave me with an unfinished farewell. That's terribly unfair!"

The moment you finally admitted that you were teasing him, Venti's entire wounded expression would vanish as though someone had flipped a switch, replaced by a delighted grin. "Ah, so that's what this is!" He'd laugh, shaking his head as though he'd just discovered the trick you'd been playing from the beginning.

Rather than being offended, he'd seem almost impressed that you'd managed to catch him off guard, though he'd immediately decide that meant you owed him compensation for the emotional devastation he'd supposedly endured.

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to make it up to me." He'd lean closer with a playful smile, looking up at you expectantly. You'd probably laugh and tell him that he was being ridiculous, only for him to insist that his suffering had been very real and very tragic.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to survive such heartbreak?" He'd sigh dramatically before breaking into another laugh. Eventually, you'd give in and finally tell him you loved him, and the satisfaction on his face would be immediate.

"There it is! My three favorite words from my favorite person!" He'd brighten as though he'd just won some grand victory, squeezing your hand before pulling you into a quick, warm hug. "Much better. Now I can let you go without spending the next hour composing a sad ballad about your betrayal."

He'd probably make a show of wiping away an imaginary tear before finally releasing you, only to call after you once more as you started walking away. "And don't think I didn't notice what you did!"

── ( 𝒍. ) Lyney would notice instantly and would never let you get away with deliberately skipping the part of your usual farewell he liked most. You'd say goodbye and start walking away without returning his familiar declaration, and he'd freeze dramatically behind you as though he'd just witnessed some terrible betrayal.

"Oh?" He'd place a hand over his heart, staring after you with exaggerated disbelief. "Was that really all you had to say before leaving me?" You'd probably turn around with an innocent expression and ask what he meant, only for him to follow you with that dramatically wounded look, his voice becoming increasingly theatrical as he insisted that something was clearly missing.

"I must have misunderstood. I could've sworn you normally say something very important right about now." He'd give you a suspicious little glance, already knowing perfectly well that you were teasing him, but he'd play along anyway. He might even sigh dramatically and shake his head as though trying to accept his tragic fate. "Perhaps I've simply become forgettable. How unfortunate." The more you tried to hide your laughter, the more exaggerated he'd become, following you toward the doorway while continuing his ridiculous complaints.

Eventually, he'd step neatly in front of the door before you could leave, wearing that playful smile that made it obvious he was having far too much fun with the situation. "Surely you wouldn't abandon your poor boyfriend without a proper farewell?"

He'd tilt his head, watching you expectantly, and when you continued refusing to give in, he'd let out an exaggerated sigh. "Very well. I'll simply wait." He'd cross his arms and stand there with remarkable patience, perfectly willing to turn your little joke into an entire game of who could hold out longer.

The moment you finally laughed and admitted that you were only teasing him, Lyney's wounded expression would immediately disappear, replaced by a bright, satisfied grin. He'd shake his head fondly, looking at you as though he'd just caught you red-handed. "You really do enjoy tormenting me, don't you?"

He'd step closer, but rather than immediately demanding the missing words, he'd simply look at you with an amused, expectant expression, giving you every opportunity to finally say them yourself.

You'd eventually give in and tell him you loved him, and his entire demeanor would brighten at once, the playful triumph in his smile making it obvious how much he'd been waiting for that little part of your routine.

"See, that wasn't so hard now was it?" He'd say it softly this time, without the theatrics, before leaning down to press a brief kiss to your forehead. Then he'd step aside with an exaggerated little bow, gesturing toward the door as though granting you permission to leave.

"Now you may go. I suppose I'll allow it." He'd probably hold the door open for you with a grin, only to add one final teasing remark as you passed. "Though next time, my dear, try not to forget the most important part."

── ( 𝒍. ) Lohen would notice the missing words almost immediately, but unlike someone who would simply tease you about it, he'd become visibly confused first.

You'd give him your usual goodbye, perhaps smiling as you gathered your things and turned toward the door, and he'd remain standing there for a second as though his brain had encountered some completely unexpected error in a routine he'd already memorized.

His eyebrows would knit together, his head tilting slightly as he watched you reach for the handle. "Wait, you forgot something." You'd innocently turn around and ask what, and he'd stare at you for another second before his expression slowly changed as realization finally dawned on him. "You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" He'd let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he pointed at you with an incredulous smile. "No, because you definitely know what I'm talking about. We've literally done this the same way every time. You say you're leaving, I tell you I love you, you tell me you love me more, and then you go." He'd start rambling on, "That's the routine. That's how this works."

He'd probably pause, glance toward the door, then back at you as though genuinely trying to understand why you had suddenly decided to disrupt something so established. "So why are you changing the rules now? Because if there's a new rule where you're allowed to just walk away without saying it back, I feel like somebody should've told me."

You'd probably be struggling not to laugh by then, which would only make him more suspicious. "Oh, you're laughing. Okay, so you are doing this on purpose." He'd follow you when you turned toward the door again, continuing to talk almost entirely because he couldn't stand leaving the situation unresolved.

He'd eventually catch your hand before you could leave, his fingers closing around yours as he gave you a mildly exasperated look. Once he realized you were only teasing him, Lohen would visibly relax, letting out a breath that sounded suspiciously like he'd been holding it.

The moment you finally laughed and told him you loved him, his expression would immediately soften into a relieved smile. "See? Was that so hard?" He'd give your hand a little squeeze before pulling you into a quick hug, though he'd probably keep talking even while doing it.

"Alright, go. Before you decide to 'traumatize' me like that again." He'd open the door for you, still grinning, only to call after you once you'd started walking away. "And I love you more, by the way. That's still part of the routine!"

Because such is he in the safety of your bedroom, in the safety of the fading light of fire and the late night, its stillness and silence. Such is he when allowed, desired even, to be present and allowed the luxury of no expectations or roles to play. When his trembling heart finally may peek out of its carefully crafted shell, to leave the shadow of a segment of the heart that usually covers for and stands in for the real thing.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he murmurs, his lips pressing a kiss to your temple.

His hand disappears briefly and when it returns, the darkness beneath your eyelids grows deeper.

You feel the strap of his mask being laid down gently over the curve of your skull, his hands skillfully avoiding any tugging on your hair or biting into the skin above your ear. The mask itself sits comfortably on your face. Its weight is new and strange, uncomfortable only because of how novel the sensation is. And finally it is secured. 

Carefully you try moving your head. The mask remains in place, though it feels like a new body part. The movement feels unusual, as if you actually grew a beak.

“Open your eyes now,” he instructs. His voice is always so low, more of a rumble, when the day is turning into another, when there’s only you to witness it. 

You follow his guidance once more. You blink a couple times, getting used to the uncanny sensory experience. Zandik’s hands stay on your shoulders. It anchors you through a short bout of dizziness. Then, you allow wonder to overtake you.

“Is this how you see?” you ask, equally quiet as his voice’s been. 

Your vision is sharper. Undeterred by the shadows or distance, you can see as clearly as you want if you focus, or simply settle for how you usually view the world. You can read the maps of lines on the leaves of the plant in the corner. You can count the pages of the book resting on your night table. If he wasn’t standing behind you, you’d like to see the sky. The fake celestial tapestry, or could you, perhaps, see beyond it?

“Of course,” he chuckles, his hands squeezing your shoulders, “That’s what you’ve been curious about.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Out of respect for him, you don’t turn around. You don’t tilt your head back. Though the mask doesn’t seem to be able to see through objects, and although he himself is wearing his mask, you want to be safe. Especially in such a crucial moment, you want him to know he can trust you. That he truly is safe here.

“It was an easy project,” he hums, nuzzling into your hair with his own beak, “There were enough adjustments to be made to make it an entertaining endeavor.”

You don’t ask what he means by that, knowing answering truthfully would require him to expose more about himself, and you don’t want to push. It’s enough that he already shared as much. 

“Can you see through the fake sky?” you ask instead. 

He takes the hint and silently allows you to turn around. It’s a smooth sequence of steps, a private dance for the two of you, as you move in sync so that you wouldn’t gaze at him. Did he take off his mask after all, you wonder. You’d like to believe so, and with the lack of evidence to prove otherwise, you choose to do.

From behind, he guides you towards the window. To your disappointment, albeit only small because it is only a matter of time before he succeeds and tears the counterfeit apart, revealing the cosmos beyond, not even the mask allows you to see the real stars. Still, you test the realism of the night sky and have to admit that were you not aware, you would also believe what you’re seeing to be the real thing.

“Art is meant to be beautiful,” you wonder aloud. He laughs, his arms now wrapping around your waist, his chest meeting your back. 

“And the moon is especially beautiful tonight,” he confesses, nosing into your hair. His lips press another kiss just behind your ear.

You close your eyes to the improved vision he so graciously gifted you, if only temporarily. And as if sensing that, or perhaps trusting you - perhaps simply accepting the possibility of being perceived, Zandik shifts closer to your side, closer still, until he’s standing in front of you.

The eight-year-old Segment also seemed to be fond of him, and that only added to your view of his character. The child largely kept to himself, except when it came to you and Forty-Five. You still remember the time you walked in on the older man holding Eight with one of his arms, while the child casually flicked Forty-Five’s earring back and forth.

So that was how you deemed the forty-five-year-old to possibly be the sweetest of the Segments, who not only cared for your physical health, but was willing to indulge in quite literally anything so long as it meant you were happy. And that meant he would do things that the others would not or be more hesitant to.

“Oh, darling!” The Segment called for you, and you could easily hear the delighted clicks of his heel rushing toward you. “There you are. I have excellent news.” He was still brushing off damp snowflakes from his coat as he immediately brushed up next to you the moment he got close enough.

“The meetings went well, Forty-Five?” Despite being forty-five, the Segment was exceedingly clingy and not afraid to show it, playfully rubbing his head against yours, expecting attention.

“Yes, yes, nothing particularly new, but I’ll tell you later. More importantly, something came up in the midst of discussion that I believe would be to your liking.” You couldn’t help but smile at his eagerness.

“And that is…?”

“A festival.”

“A festival? Here, in Snezhnaya, you mean?”

“Correct.” Forty-Five’s cute, sharp teeth began to show through as he grinned wider. He patted your back to urge you to walk with him. “There are many celebrations in Snezhnaya, but this one in particular… Well, officially it’s held in honor of Her Majesty, but really, you can call it a morale booster for the people of Snezhnaya to keep their spirits up. Food, drinks, games, shops… You name it.”

“That sounds fun…” It almost reminded you of when you’d attend the Sabzeruz Festival or Akademiya Extravaganza with your dear Zandik back when you two were students. You’d buy the food, and Zandik would buy mechanical toys or anything of the like so he could deconstruct them for parts. You miss those days, when things were simpler.

“That’s why we should go together,” Forty-Five agreed very casually, so you almost didn’t hear him correctly.

“Huh? W-Wait, really? We can go?!” You turned to him and clasped your hands with his, and he squeezed yours back in affirmation.

“Of course. That’s why I brought it up. I figured you would like to spend some more time outside of this place. Even I admit that it can get awfully boring in here.” The Segment felt himself getting a bit warm under all of the layers he was wearing when you positively beamed at him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you, thank you! Ah, I can’t wait until-” You then paused, as something came over you. “But… What about the others? I’ll have to tell them, and then they’ll probably make a fuss about it and then-” Before you could finish your sentence, Forty-Five pressed his finger against your lips with a mischievous smile.

“They don’t need to know, do they? This can be our little secret.” You stared at him, speechless for a moment, before both of you burst into laughter.

—

Sneaking out of the lab with Forty-Five reminded you of the thrill of sneaking out of the Akademiya with Zandik, except this time you would have fun instead of being stuck researching. And the others were none the wiser; well, according to Forty-Five, they were at least.

There were already plenty of people there by the time you two arrived. Despite the cruel fate that had been thrust onto the nation, the people of Snezhnaya were headstrong and managed to find joy in many things. That much could be said by how lively and wonderful the festival was. Decorations and stalls of delicious foods and souvenirs and games lined the streets, children and adults alike enjoying themselves, while Kresnik’s Torch kept everyone warm even as soft snow fell. 

“You know, this is my first time attending as well,” Forty-Five took in the scenery with you. “After all, things like this aren’t something any of us would want to attend.” You believed him. You couldn’t really imagine any of the other Segments wanting to come here either.

“Well, I’m glad I can experience it with you.” You reached inside his coat to rub against his arm, and he perked up.

“As am I. Now, shall we?” Forty-Five placed his hand out, waiting for you to take it.

You wondered how much the average person recognized someone like Dottore, or if anyone understood the logic of the Segments. Forty-Five did not seem particularly concerned at being spotted with you, but you knew that they seemed to want to keep you a secret as best they could. However, that was not something so easily done, not when you had your own desires and wants, and that was not something they could ever strip you of. 

Regardless, if the Segment didn’t care, you didn’t need to either. And so you took his hand in yours and let him lead you into the crowd.

—

“Here,” the scholar gave you a stick of hard candy, while pushing some wrapped ones into your pocket. There were many delicious scents floating around, but the sight of candy resembling the creatures of Snezhnaya caught your eye. And of course, Forty-Five would never deny indulging his sweet tooth. The two of you found a spot that was a bit away from all of the commotion to enjoy the treat.

“Is it good, dearest?” You nibbled at your candy and nodded.

“Mhm. Here, want to try some?” You pushed the stick of the sugar sculpture toward Forty-Five’s mouth, to which he didn’t hesitate to try, tongue darting out to taste your candy.

“Your one isn’t as sweet as mine,” the Harbinger observed, licking his lips at the flavor. You were about to pull away before Forty-Five suddenly crunched down and bit a part of the candy off.

“Hey!” A portion of your candy had been munched away while Forty-Five enjoyed himself with a mischievous look. “You bit its head off…” You twirled the sculpture around, now partially demolished.

“Oh, don’t look so sad. You can try mine too, of course.” Now it was Forty-Five who held his candy out to you, brushing against your lips.

“Nom…” Forty-Five’s sugar sculpture was quite sweet, just to his liking. Unlike some of the others, he didn’t care to hide his fondness for sweet treats. “Yours is yummy, too.” The Segment hummed in agreement, content to watch you. When you had enough of his candy and pulled away, he took the opportunity to finally capture your lips with his.

Seems like he was getting tired of all the indirect kisses.

—

It was then that one of the stalls caught your eye, and you tugged the Segment over to look at it. In front of you was a table of cat ears of different colors, as well as different headgear such as antlers.

“What are these?” You had never seen anything like this before.

“Well, it appears to be animal ears that you can wear. I believe they have these in Nod-Krai, as well.”

“You can wear… cat ears? How?” You picked up a pair and thumbed the soft and fluffy material. At that, a Fatui Agent finally appeared from the back of the stall and rushed over.

“Sorry about the wait, we-” The agent stopped in his tracks as he glanced at you and Forty-Five, before suddenly pausing as his brain seemed to process who exactly was standing in front of him. He could only sputter and bow deeply at the sight of the Harbinger. “L-Lord Dottore?! I- We- Uh, i-it’s an honor to serve you!” The Segment only hummed in response, seeming to be more interested in you fiddling with the ears instead.

“So, how exactly do these ears work?” Forty-Five asked, unbothered by the agent’s fumbling.

“Ah, um, well… You just need to stick them on top of your head, really. That’s all.” You furrowed your eyebrows, but followed the instructions anyway, placing the cat ears on your head. You don’t know how it worked, but they stuck there, even when you shook your head.

“Huh… It feels a bit weird. How do I look?” You turned to face the Segment, the sensation of cat ears on your head a bit peculiar. Forty-Five looked at you with a blank expression before suddenly breaking out into laughter.

“... Heh. Hehehe…. Ahahahaha!” Your face burned in embarrassment as he giggled at you. “Adorable. Simply adorable.” 

“Hmph!” The Segment’s hand petted the top of your head as you pouted. You grabbed another pair of car ears and pushed it in front of him. “Here. I can’t be the only one being laughed at. You need to wear them too!”

The poor agent had been watching the whole time, awkwardly rubbing his head at the scene. But more importantly, he didn’t know who this person next to Lord Dottore was, but he was sure that the Harbinger would never entertain such a foolish request, so-

Before the Fatuus could finish his thought, Forty-Five took the pair of cat ears from your hands and placed them on top of his head.

“Hmm… It does feel a bit odd.” The scholar crossed his arms in thought, and you reached to pat the top of his head too, specifically rubbing at the newly added cat ears clashing with his fluffy blue hair.

The Fatui agent at the stall was beyond baffled, and yet he kept his mouth shut. D-Did… Lord Dottore actually put on those cat ears?! Was the Lord Harbinger always this cute? Wait, no! He can’t think that way about his superior, much less the fearsome Second Harbinger! But should he compliment the Harbinger? Should he just smile and nod? Or would it be wise to interrupt this clearly affectionate moment? Would Lord Dottore be offended either way?!

“Hehe, I told you! Now you look cute, too!” If you listened closely, the Segment was practically purring at your attention. “Can we keep these? How much are they? I want to take a few pictures with them and bring them back to the lab…”

“Well actually, these aren’t for sale…” The agent’s words slowly died down as Forty-Five gave him a smile that made his stomach turn. “B-But, we can make an exception this time!”

“Very well, my dear. I believe I saw a photo booth somewhere around.” The Segment smiled like usual and urged you away to the next activity.

The agent’s legs nearly gave out at the encounter. Who would ever believe that Lord Dottore would dress himself with cat ears so easily… Though he seemed way more friendly than usual…

—

“It was so much fun! Thank you for taking me.” Your arms were wrapped around Forty-Five, squeezing him tightly. The two of you had a day of fun at the festival, and he seemed greatly pleased with himself as well.

“Of course. We can always go again, or even to some of the smaller towns more often.” Forty-Five brushed your cheek and planted a kiss on your forehead. “You deserve it.”

“Mhm! But uh… Do you think the others noticed anything?” You looked slightly worried, as you had finally arrived at one of the more private entrances of the lab. “You think they’ll be upset…?”

“Not to worry, darling. I’ll take care of anything, no matter what anyone says. Now-” The moment the forty-five-year-old opened the door, Eight was there, crouched to the side as if waiting for you two to return.

“The others are mad at you,” the child said bluntly.

“Oops…”

—

“What, you thought you could just run off with them, and all would be well?” As expected, Eighteen was the most vocal about his displeasure, pacing back and forth while the other Segments and even the original watched on.

“I wouldn’t call it running away. I took them out, and I brought them back.” Apparently, the Segments had turned the lab upside down after learning you were missing, and then realizing that Forty-Five was also conveniently gone. “We all do the same from time to time, no?”

“Taking them out to the forest and whatnot is far different from pushing them around in the capital,” Twenty-Five stated objectively. “And you didn’t tell us anything. What if they fell ill?”

“It may be, but that’s why they enjoyed it. They wanted to attend it, I listened, and everything was indeed well. Besides, do you really think I’m incapable of handling any possible situation?” He continued to smile and shrugged his shoulders. “Should I ignore their wishes simply because of differing opinions amongst us?”

“Differing opinions? Then, what makes your opinion take precedence above mine?” Thirty-Five questioned.

“Enough.” Zandik tapped his cane against the ground, the noise drawing attention. “Forty-Five… is not wrong. [Name] is allowed to do what they like. They should be free, without us intervening on their desires. And what matters is that they are unharmed.”

“…I would have gone with them instead, if I knew,” Eighteen sniffed. Sixty-Five only remained quiet. His mind was more similar to the original, after all.

“Eighteen, Twenty-Five, neither of you like crowds or loud noises for an extended period of time. Thirty-Five, those sort of activities do not interest you either. And Sixty-Five and I…” Well, they were both too old for such fun and walking. That didn’t really need to be said. 

“So, Forty-Five is the optimal choice if they want to attend festivities or things of that nature.” Despite the finality of his words, the original sounded a bit saddened about the truth because Zandik could no longer be the one to make his beloved happy. Only his younger Segments could truly fulfill your wishes, now. He had no choice but to leave it in their hands. “That being said, anyone who wants to take them out should still notify the others, so that this doesn’t happen again.”

Forty-Five seemed to have expected this outcome, only humming in response, as the other Segments grumbled for a bit before dispersing.

—

“Where are we going this time?” A few days after you two snuck out, the Segment had bundled you up once again in a fluffy coat and gloves.

“Nowhere all that special, this time. Simply outside, as we usually do.”

“Not that I don’t want to, but why now, so out of the blue?” Forty-Five’s smile twitched as he held your hand.

“You see… it seems that Eight is a little upset that we did not take him with us when we went out. He’s been pouty at me ever since.” Your heart dropped when the scholar said that.

“I-Is he really?” Immediately, you felt guilty for not thinking of inviting your baby along. You thought he liked quieter means of bonding, but at the end of the day, he was still a child. He wanted to have fun with the person he loved, even if it was different than usual. “Oh no… Oh Forty-Five, when is the next time we’re going out? We have to bring him then!”

“You can relax, beloved. He’s not nearly as upset as whatever you’re imagining,” Forty-Five tried to assuage your worries. “Regardless, as an apology, I’m allowing him to take ‘revenge’ on me. I brought you along because I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“Revenge? What does that even entail…?”

The revenge in question was a snowball fight with the other two Segments.

“You’re here. And… [Name].” The child was already outside waiting, and that’s when you noticed he’d already molded a small army of snowballs and set them aside for further use. Little Eight perked up when he saw you by Forty-Five’s side, his favorite person.

“Eight, I-” Before you could apologize, Eight yanked your arm and tugged you to his side, away from the older Segment.

“You’re on my side,” he declared before placing a firm snowball in your hand.

“Wait, I-”

“Two against one? I suppose in this case, that’s fair,” Forty-Five commented before bending down to reach for some snow himself.

“Are we really-” At that, Eight launched the snow with surprising accuracy, as if he’d done this before, at the older man, but Forty-Five dodged right in time, still agile. “Well, I guess we are…” You also attempted to pelt your lover with snow, but you were not as good as either of them.

Instead, you were mostly used as a shield, as Eight frequently hid behind you. The child Segment dove into your coat to take cover, nearly making you topple over, and the snowball hit you instead. Eight popped his head out and stuck his tongue at the older man.

After a long, drawn-out battle, Forty-Five admitted his defeat, and now Eight had become interested in building a snow fort. You and the older man sat at the side to rest.

“That was… surprisingly intense,” you panted while Forty-Five chuckled. Now you knew Eight could really pack a punch through… snowballs.

“Well, you of all people should know how expressive he can be.” You nodded in agreement, and something you’ve been thinking for a while about came to mind, but you weren’t sure how to voice it. Of course, the Segment saw your expression anyway. “What is it?”

“I just… noticed you’re more fond of him than the rest of them seem to be…” Eighteen’s dislike of Eight was clear, while the others seemed indifferent, but Forty-Five seemed to like him. The Segment smiled at your words, but not as wide as he usually did, as if a bit of sadness washed over him.

Perhaps, deep down, he wished for a family, a place to belong. He had always wished for acceptance, but this was a bit different.

Maybe the original Zandik, who eventually grew out of his prime and aged, began to see things differently. Decades had flown by and slowly worn him down, and left him looking back on his life. A life that was lived without you, his dearest.

Perhaps he sat down and wondered about what could have been. Possibly, he thought about how you’d look settling down with him; a garden or pet or maybe even another tiny person would bring joy to your lives. But those types of thoughts had no release for the original. They could only be contained within his mind, tormenting him.

And now, those thoughts had been inherited by the forty-five-year-old Segment, and that mentality was what he lived by. Forty-Five doted on you endlessly, treating you exactly how the original would have wanted, like you were his spouse - his family. And Eight… Well…

But the truth was that a family was not something that could truly be obtained for the Segment, because as he was now, Forty-Five was a stagnant, unchanging man, and he was mature enough to realize that.

So instead, Forty-Five latched onto the things that could give him the illusion of his desires - the fantasy of a family - since that was all he could have, being frozen in time.

Naturally, he did not say any of that.

“It’s a shame. The connection I can make with you is limited by my very own self,” Forty-Five said, the most solemn you’d ever heard him. “And yet, all I want to do is continue to try, even though it will never be possible.” Maybe for him, if he could leave a mark on you, if you could change because of him, then that would be enough.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. The only thing you did was place your hand on Forty-Five’s.

“Well now, enough of that. Come, it looks like Eight needs our help.” Forty-Five motioned to the child struggling to move heavy blocks of snow.

“… You’re right. Let’s go.” The Segment took your hand and helped you up, and the three of you spent the rest of the day together.

You loved the Segments dearly but…

The very nature of life is to grow and change; otherwise, were you truly living? By that logic, wasn’t the Segments’ existence sheer cruelty for them to endure every day they existed? Because if they could not grow, were they really living?

You didn’t know anymore.