Through a wooded path to the north of their farm, Bog led the lieutenants with a light, chipper pace. The path to Robin’s was a favorite of theirs, in part because of their own efforts, making it easier to get through than the southern path to Marnie’s, but also for all the forage that showed up here. It was always nice seeing some seasonal flowers or berries they could snag before making their rounds in town in the morning. 

But it still wasn’t the longest path, and before long they came upon a large wooden house nestled into a ridge. On the ridge itself, a little ways over, was a bright yellow tent, though there didn’t seem to be any life there, and Bog headed down to the door of the house. Watching their watch for a few quiet moments before nodding to themself and heading in. 

It was New Years, and still relatively early, so Bog wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see a familiar face at the counter across from the door, an immediate woody scent greeting visitors from a log stockpile organized neatly in a cubby nearby. They didn’t hesitate to clear their throat, calling out, “Robin? Demetrius?” 

“Is that The Bog?” Robin called from the back hallway, heading into the main storefront, though it was clear from her appearance that she wasn’t quite open for business, having been hanging out in the rest of her home wearing not much more than an apron. 

Harrier leaned in beside Kim and whispered to him, “She’s making an apple pie,” pause, “Poorly.”

“Surprised to see you here all bright and early after the New Years! Surprised anyone’s awake! I haven’t actually slept yet myself,” Robin admitted, wiping some sweat off her forehead, a small sheen of baking powder on her cheeks, before she peeked around Bog, “Who’s your friends?”

“We are the police, ma’am.” Kim greeted, bowing his head slightly, “Lieutenant Kim and Double-yefreitor Harrier. We were hoping you might have access to a radio we could borrow.”

“...I knew most of those words, but not all of them,” Robin admitted, giving Bog a curious look, “Got any translations for me, Bog?”

“Happy New Year!” Bog cheerily greeted, giving Robin a wave before laughing sheepishly. “I hope you get some rest later, but I am glad to catch you. I was half expecting things to be a ghost town until the afternoon at least. Oh, and I brought over that lumber we were talking about the other day.” 

It was a little redundant to say, considering the pack, but, well…especially with the Ba La Fayes and all the arguments that Bog had gotten caught up in over the last few months, they did try to be clear with things. Unshouldering the pack and taking out the lumber from its straps to put in her donation box, Bog gave Robin a half-smile. “The lieutenants had a bit of a mishap and ended up on my farm--they want to try contacting their people to report it, and just for safety, I guess, and the way they usually do that is through something called a ‘radio’. It sounds kind of techie, so I thought I’d ask Maru or Sebastian about it, if they’re around.”

“A communication device called a radio?” a sleepy but intrigued voice asked, a young woman with tight curls shuffled into the storefront from a different hallway, wrapped up in a cozy robe. “Sounds intriguing! What form of communication is it?”

“The ‘bzzzz’-y kind!” Harrier provided enthusiastically. 

“I will admit, it’s increasingly alarming that none of you have heard of it,” Kim admitted, eyeing the new woman now too. Had there been some sort of event last night? “It’s a very common concept, where we come from.”

“Right, well, living out on an island, sometimes we’re the last to hear about things.” Robin shrugged. “Where did you say you were from? Police? Never heard of the place myself!”

“...oh, this is just going from bad to worse, huh?” Harrier whispered.

“It is less than ideal, yes,” Kim whispered back.

“SEBASTIAN!” Robin called down the stairs that were opposite of the hallway she had come in from, “SEB! WE HAVE A TECH QUESTION!”

“WHAT?” Called a voice from downstairs.

“A TECH QUESTION! WE NEED YOU!” Robin called down.

“WHAT'S THE QUESTION?”

“I’M NOT SHOUTING IT THROUGH THE HOUSE, JUST COME UP HERE!”

“UGH!”

After a moment, a tired looking young man headed up the stairs, grumbly rubbing his eyes. “It’s the crack of dawn on New Year's Day. Why is everyone even awake, let alone us having visitors?”

“Seb, do you know what a radio is?” Robin asked.

Seb blinked. Once, twice… “What, like in Sci-fi stories?”

Bog shrugged a bit. “They’re from a place called ‘Revacho’, and I think ‘police’ is like security? A profession, not a place. Oh, you did mention you’re detectives, yeah?” Bog said curiously, looking to the lieutenants. 

Unphased by the shouting match, Bog filled Maru in on how Officer had described a radio before, Maru looking increasingly awake and intrigued as they talked, and by the time Sebastian trudged up to the main floor, she let out a little gasp of understanding. “Oh, right! Those two-way communicators that work through electrical currents that aliens use!”

She giggled brightly. “Though I think real-life ones are called ‘telephones’ now.”

Giving the lieutenants a slightly apologetic look, she explained, “Not that we have those here either. Dicea’s been willing to send over the blueprints, but even if we did have the funds and materials to make a tower and phonelines, if nowhere else on the island did, then we’d only be able to call each other. Which would still be helpful! But not really for trying to call home if home isn’t Partinique.”

There was a quiet, sleepy groan from the stairs Sebastian had come from, a deeper voice questioning, “...’Bas?” quickly followed by a higher, soft giggle, just barely able to hear a, “Shhh, ---be -ack---”

Bog brightened. “Oh, did Sam and Abby spend the night?”

“Mhm. Sam’s barely dressed, if you want to head downstairs.” Sebastian yawned, scratching the light stubble on his chin. “Anyway, yeah, radios aren’t a thing. I mean, they’re a thing in theory, but in practice? No one’s ever been able to make one that produces coherent sounds.”

Harrier tilted his head. “Coherent sounds?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, blinking heavily, “We’ve actually made radios that, again, in theory, should work over small distances. Almost anyone can, it's a blueprint that’s been out for ages, the material isn’t hard to get. A thousand techheads have tried to refine it over and over and over again because every formula and theory on earth says it should work, but… it just doesn’t. It picks up all this crazy noise. Most of the time just static, but sometimes it’s voices, sometimes it’s music, people swear they’ve heard growls and laughter. But never the sound it’s supposed to pick up, which is whatever the other mic is broadcasting.”

“That’s spooky!” Harrier said, before tugging on Kim’s sleeve, “Kim. It might be more magic stuff.”

“It’s concerning, is what it is. Especially to hear this island does not have phones, either…” Kim frowned, “...we appear to be in a predicament.”

Bog glanced towards the basement stairs, clearly tempted. The ASS trio were always fun to hang out with, and, well, Bog enjoyed the blessing of finding them all very attractive. Seeing a half-naked, sleepy, likely hungover Sam was appealing…

But woe was the feeling of concern and responsibility. Damn. 

Listening to Sebastian’s explanation, Maru nodded brightly. “Seb and I have made our own prototype too! We heard some really wild music on it once.”

“Huh… Well, I’m glad my hunch to ask you guys was right, at least,” Bog said kindly before giving the lieutenants a sympathetic look. “I’d still recommend seeing Lewis about a place to stay, next, and seeing the Wizard, but maybe writing a letter back home would still be wise? If it’s a place we can get to, I’m sure there’s at least some mail center that would be able to pass it along. Oh, actually…”

Bog patted their pockets for a moment before looking to Robin. “Do you have another of those maps, like you gave me when I moved to the archipelago? I’d be happy to show Lieutenant Kim and O…” Bog paused, squinting at the duo for a moment, before correcting, “Harrier around for a while, but I still do gotta tend to my crops today.”

“A farmer’s work doesn’t stop even for holidays,” Maru cheerfully laughed.

Bog snorted in amusement. “I’m happy to work around nature’s schedule. Better than those dunces over the river. Ugh.” Bog scowled, recalling some of the drunken conversation from the saloon the night before. “I can’t believe they tried to schedule Shane in this morning. It’s New Years.”

“He really needs to just quit soon, I have no idea why he’s still putting up with it,” Sebastian said, rolling his eyes.

“He’s got dreams! Sometimes you need to live in a cruddy situation for a while in pursuit of what you really want,” Robin said, looking meaningfully at Sebastian, “If you really want something, sometimes, you have to say no to something else.”

Sebastian sniffed lightly. Not saying anything to that. He had not quite picked up on the fact that she was trying to send him a message. 

“Well, maybe this sort of works out for me, on my end,” Harrier said, looking to Kim, “I mean, I was planning to just sleep under my desk tonight… last night? However long it's been. At least this way I have a bed tonight.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Kim said dryly. Though privately, he thought not being trapped on an island where radios just picked up spooky sounds and they worshiped alcohol and his motor-carriage was missing would have been preferable to Harrier not having to sleep under his desk that night. “And yes, a map would be helpful, thank you.”

Bog gave a grim nod as they agreed with Sebastian. They did get why Shane, and Sam for that matter, worked for Joja. It…was kind of the only new job you could get in Partinique. Bog’s farm was only as much of a job as it was if they could keep making a profit with their produce, and while that profit had slowly started to grow as the months went by and they got more of a feel for how to do things efficiently, things were still rocky. They didn’t even have a kitchen. 

So, yeah. Money was money. 

But the Escoffiers sucked. Joja sucked. Bog wouldn’t go so far as to say Kimigashineans sucked, but the way the bigger businesses from there decided to do business in Novis sucked.

Every time Shane showed off something he’d stolen from the seemingly never-ending shipments to the manor, Bog let out their longest ‘yeah boiii’ ever. But it still didn’t make up for shitty bosses that wanted you to come to work on a holiday. 

As Robin fished out a map of the archipelago, Bog got a pencil and started making a few notes on it for the lieutenants. “Alright, I need to head to town anyway, so I’ll drop you two off at Lewis’, and that’s kind of in the middle of town. Slightly north is Harvey’s, which I still recommend for getting yourself checked out, and I know you guys said you didn’t have the right kind of money, but if you get some, Pierre’s is the best place to go for whatever you might need. Out front the shop people post odd jobs sometimes too.”

Bog went on to give directions for the saloon and to the Wizard’s tower, but while they talked, a bleached blond head poked its way out from the basement stairs. “Sebastiaaaaaaan,” Sam sleepily whined, “It’s too early, come baaaaaaack.”

“It’s alright, I know how to make money in a pinch,” Harrier grinned, before pulling off his backpack and, ignoring Kim’s sigh, pulling out a trashbag and some long yellow gloves, “I’ve got this, Kim!”

“...does anyone here pay for empty bottles collected?” Kim asked Robin.

“Uuuuh,” Robin frowned, tilting her head in confusion, “Pay for it? Um… maybe go ask the general store, or maybe even the blacksmith? They might have a use for empty bottles?”

“But not an established practice?” Kim asked.

“I mean, I’m not even sure what you mean by ‘collecting empty bottles’,” Robin admitted, “Do you mean collecting them from the recycling bins?”

“No, like, from the ground,” Harrier explained.

“Who would throw bottles on the ground?”

“Kim,” Harrier whispered urgently, “I might not have this.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Whine, whine, whine,” Sebastian sighed, giving Bog a nod before heading downstairs. 

“Anyway, we thank you all for your time. Bog, we appreciate the additional help, though this map will be of great help as well,” Kim said, taking the map and, beyond all reason, immediately handing it to Harrier. “We will put ourselves in your hand for only a while longer, then please go back to your powdery melons.”

“Ah, trash collecting’s not exactly lucrative,” Bog explained, a bit more used to the city standards of ambient trash than others who’d been established in the archipelago much longer. “Mostly it’s just seen as something good to do for our ecosystem, but mostly you’ll just get raw materials out of it through recycling, not pay. Using the shipping bins out by the port and putting in fish you’ve caught, or certain shells and mollusks you can find on the beach aren’t bad for a quick silver or two, though.”

“And, uh,” Bog gave the lieutenants a sheepish but appraising look, “Going into the mines works too, but I wouldn’t recommend it. No offense, but you don’t exactly look like adventurers.”

Maru nodded a bit more worriedly. “The mines are super dangerous. Pretty much only Bog and guild members go in there, and even then I see you guys at the clinic way more than I’d hope.”

“Yay~!” Sam cheered as Sebastian headed back, catching a glimpse of the others in Robin’s shop before calling out, “Oh, hey, Bog! Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year, Sam!” Bog called back, giving a little wave, before giving the lieutenants a kind look. “And it ain’t no thing, Lieutenant. We all gotta watch each other's backs when you pass out in a weird place.”

Harrier’s eyes widened in fascination. The mines. That sounded… hardcore! Exciting! Something a hero cop might do?

“We will keep the beach collecting in mind,” Kim agreed, “Mining is a dangerous task back home as well. I would not volunteer myself for it unless the situation became dire.”

Harrier’s face fell. Aw.

“Well, you all let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Robin said, giving Bog especially an earnest look, “Helping is good, but don’t get caught up. These men seem like they can handle themselves in a pinch, they don’t need you babysitting them.”

Harrier nodded earnestly, while Kim remained impassive. Robin was essentially warning Bog to take care of themselves, because strange men were strange men and even ones in need tended to need some caution as well. Don’t be afraid to call her if Bog needed help.

Kim picked all that up. It was sensible advice. No need to comment.

Harrier said, “Yeah, and it’s always a good idea to be careful in case we’re serial killers.”

Kim internally sighed.

Bog gave Robin a grateful look. Along with Lewis, she had been the first person he’d met in the archipelago, and they’d been grateful for her constant welcome and help in the months since. When they’d made the decision to move to the Solar Archipelago, it had been all or nothing. Bog hadn’t cared what the circumstances were, anything would be better than Accus City and being a puppet for Joja. 

But going to a place where they were welcomed right away? Always given an offer to stop by whenever they ran across Robin in the mountains? Trading encouragement when Bog commissioned a construction project and the two of them were working on the farm at the same time? 

Maybe Bog just felt like they had some kindness to repay back into the world. 

“Sure thing,” Bog agreed, before snorting. “I don’t think I’ve pissed off the spirits enough for that. I’d have some words for the afterlife if serial killers ended up on my farm of all places around here.”

Shaking their head a little, Bog picked up the pack they’d carried the lumber over with and gave Robin and Maru a wave. “Thanks for the help, and sorry for dropping by so early. Might catch y’all in town later, see ya ‘round!”

“Bye, Bog, Happy New Year!” Maru called. “And good luck, Lieutenants!”

-

Maybe going out to the frozen pond, skating and playing in the snow, wasn’t exactly the sort of vibe Kokichi thought his husbands necessarily wanted for setting the tone for the new year. There was kind of a limit on that, since it was winter so the snowscape was just the setting they had, but he still appreciated their enthusiasm regardless when he’d brought it up, the kids eager for a sanctioned pond day. And as he and Kimiko twirled laps around the others, Bianka continually challenging everyone to races, even when the leg weights she’d put on were obviously tiring her out, Mike refusing to put one foot on the ice, but letting himself have fun making things in the snow whenever someone wanted off, Kokichi was content to call it a successful outing. 

One that definitely made him want to take a hot bath and snuggle by the fire into a well deserved nap, though with what Kaito proposed before Kokichi could get too drowsy, even that was posed for excitement. 

Sending a notice to Saint Madison as a warning, Kokichi then opened a portal to Kaito’s mind, gently raising up his husband’s consciousness.

Kaito, despite Kokichi’s misgivings, had had a great time at the pond for New Years, honestly. 

Oh, sure, he’d never be as graceful on the ice as Kokichi and Kimiko were, but he was holding his own with Tim, Cali and Maki, doing their circles around the ice while their better skaters did circles around them. Shuichi had been relaxing on a bench to the side, chatting with anyone who needed a rest with him and holding Miyako, who was only mildly irritated to be out in the snow that day. 

And Kaito had been thrilled, really. At one point he had hidden a mild slip by saying, no no no, he was just resting for a second, THAT’S why he had ‘suddenly’ sat down in the snow, no worries, he was fine! And he had just sat in the snow a bit, watching his family and all their little friends play around and just felt… at peace.

…and then he noticed, as usual, that his husband was hot as hell skating. And boy he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Kokichi for the rest of the day, right up until that night. He kneeeeew his husband was very tired from all the running around that day, but, well… look, why not take advantage of that empath second-wind? So he asked Kokichi to come over. 

Besides, he wanted to spend time with his husband either way. And he wanted the chance to show off his old home to Kokichi in a less, like, urgent or sad way. 

Still, it had been somewhat disorienting, because he had literally woken up on his old bed. He guessed his subconscious just falling into old habits? Very old habits, actually, as Kaito blinked up at the tapestries he had strung over his ceiling, beautiful portraits of different skies all crisscrossing over each other, sunsets mixing in with starry nights, bright blue days over swirling, pretty storms…

Kaito chuckled, sitting up and glancing over at Kokichi, “You know, I moved out at nineteen, to get my apartment? I’d have brought you there, but honestly, that place was only nice for me, it wasn’t worth showing off. But this place?” Kaito laughed, looking around, far more amused than the last time he was here, “This was my childhood bedroom. It’s kind of trippy, being here again. Trippier to see you here, babe. Makes me feel sixteen again.”

Kaito frowned, before suddenly looking down at himself, “Not literally, change back!” he griped, hitting his much thinner biceps like his teenage body just needed to be brushed off like lint. And inexplicably it seemed to work, an adult Kaito huffing as he rolled his eyes, “Dream logic.”

Kokichi snickered, giving Kaito a fond look as he sat on the edge of Kaito’s bed, having been looking around the room as it formed, though once Kaito ‘woke up’, he’d been all eyes for his husband. “I dunno, I feel like any space Kai-chan liked is worth showing off. Something special to you is special, full stop.” 

“Though, I really can’t believe this room,” he hummed appreciatively, looking up at the tapestries again. “We both really spent our childhoods looking at the stars from bed, huh.”

Kaito looked up, grinning a bit, “There’s a really elaborate painting up there of the Pyre Battle from when the Momota’s first took back the country from our brutal oligarch tyrants,” Kaito snickered, swinging his legs off the bed, stretching, “The Pyre Battle was this brutal fight where people who were just suspected of having the plague were getting rounded up to be mass burned in this, like, desperate bid from the Oligarch to get the plague under control, right? And so Lord Kaiden got the revolution that had already been growing by that point and raided the pyre, using rescuing the people about to be burned as the motivation to really create a sense of urgency in the rebels, that they needed to come to battle now or what was the point, past this moment where their brothers and sisters were burning? So the artwork up there is the Momota revolutionaries running towards a pyre of people reaching back to them, twisted, morphed figures that vaguely resemble people representing the oligarchs watching the scene from a balcony on a tower, Molly Malone in her saints garb looking over the whole thing from the sky…”

“...it was fucking terrifying, I had nightmares all the damn time,” Kaito laughed, running his hand through his hair, “They painted that up there when I was six! To give me a sense of my legacy. I begged my nannies for help, and they gave me eye covers and stuff to wear to sleep. Actually, it was a gardener, overhearing me talk about it, who finally solved that problem. He asked to see the situation, and my seven year old ass was fearless, so I snuck him up to my room. In retrospect, that was insanely dangerous, I didn’t know him and no one knew he was there. But he just looked around the ceiling, stacked some of my furniture, and installed some of the hooks up there that you use to hang plants and vines, right?” Kaito said, pointing to the metal hoops, “And we grabbed some of my blankets and made a makeshift ceiling, covering the artwork. I think the blanket we used had a picture of flowers on it. I replaced it over time, but man, that stranger really came through for me, out of nowhere. And he could have gotten in serious trouble for it too. People are funny sometimes.”

Kokichi’s eyes widened a bit as he looked up again, a, “Whoa,” escaping him as Kaito spoke. He could see why such an intense and tide-changing battle was a symbol of legacy, and why something like that would be instilled in the next generation…but… Kokichi snorted a little. “That sounds like way too much for a 6-year-old. Aw, poor little Kai-chan’s nightmares…”

Shaking his head, Kokichi scooted to be more next to Kaito as he sat up and leaned his head against Kaito’s arm. “That was really kind of that gardener, though, and I’m glad things turned out alright. You never really know where something special is gonna come from, huh.”

“I do like the stars, though,” he said, kissing Kaito’s arm. “Maybe the mural is better for a museum mindset.”

“Museum mindset?” Kaito asked curiously, though he smiled lightly at Kokichi’s little arm kiss. He supposed it was no different than the head kisses he gave his shorty husband, but Kaito thought it was cute, Kokichi just kissing the easiest part of him to get to, to randomly show affection. Which he did in turn, leaning down to kiss the top of his husband's head, “You were sexy today.”

“Like…being in a space ready to appreciate history and artistic expression. Rather than just wanting to spend time with my husband and see his favorite things from home. I mean, you can tell me I got it wrong, but I don’t really think something that used to give you nightmares is something you reminisce on a bunch.”

Kokichi shrugged a little, before smiling at the kiss…and raising his eyebrows. “Yeah? Kai-chan comments on everyday sexiness, so I can’t discount that, but…from skating?” He huffed a small laugh. “I have been trying to get more comfortable with jumps.”

Kaito flushed lightly, remembering Kokichi’s leaps. That had been… very impressive. Kaito could have watched that all day, as he kissed Kokichi’s temple, lightly petting his back… before he suddenly gasped, “‘Kichi!” Kaito said, shaking his husband a little, excited, “I gotta show you something! You’re going to think this is sooooo extra, but I’m actually genuinely excited to show it off to you!”

Kaito laughed, standing up and taking Kokichi’s hand, heading beneath the second half-floor that hosted his reading library, heading into a door tucked beneath that led to his bathroom.

It was already a nice bathroom, the sort of gaudy extravagance that the rest of the castle suggested would be there. The floor was rough, dark stonework, not too cold to the touch of bare feet and not likely to be slipped on either, while there was a very long, very brightly lit vanity mirror that almost went across the whole wall. All of it lit not by electric lights–it had been installed before that technology became more widely available, even for the royals–but the edges lit up from back burners to catch fire, flames lighting up the mirror, along with the electric bulbs that had been installed in the ceiling when the technology became available. 

Purely for the aesthetic, Kaito left the bulbs off but turned on the fire mirror, it more than bright enough to light the bathroom in a warm, firelight glow, before gesturing to his tub on one end of the bathroom, “Ignore that, it’s pathetic. Luminary went through this phase where it thought, like, bathwater was really filthy and led to sickness, so baths were designed to not be sat in very long, and could barely cover you.” Kaito explained, showing that circular dip that had been installed into the floor, it obvious even from just eyeballing it that anyone sitting in it would only get water halfway up to their thighs at its highest capacity, “ We’ve gotten over that idea as a people, but this room was designed when that was a big belief, so shallow, really just meant to splash water on my skin if I want to sit in hot water soooo badly, degenerate, tub I have. But! We overcompensated hard when it came to showers.”

Kaito jumped lightly, just excited to show Kokichi a cool–as far as he could tell–Luminary thing, as he brought his husband to the shower area, “Okay, so see how it’s surrounded by glass?” Kaito explained, opening up the glass, “That’s to trap in the steam. Because, Kokichi, my shower doubles as a sauna. But, but, the cool thing is how the steam fills the room! Okay, so,” Kaito pointed up to the faucet installed into the corner, hidden within a spiraling structure of stone, like that part of the bathroom was volcanic rock that had started to bend and morph in the heat of bursting lava. Faucet knobs at hand level, but a thin, metal chain hanging from the oddly designed faucet, “Okay, first, you have to give it a second to build up. To do that, you twist this knob, but you have to push it in, otherwise it’s just going to act like a normal shower. So, you twist, push, wait…”

Kaito waited, still hopping on his heels excitedly for a moment… before grinning as he heard the rumbling sound of the pipes in the walls starting to strain under increased pressure. Giggling maniacally. 

Kokichi could only give Kaito a short, surprised laugh as he was shaken, Kaito’s excitement lighting up his whole mind. “Okay, okay! I am here to be shown off too, no rush, hun.”

Though he was very intrigued as Kaito brought him into a bathroom. Not entirely befuddled because, well, he and Maki had just talked all about how lavish their bathtub at home was, and their family spent a surprising amount of time in the bathroom. But Kaito didn’t start building up the drama or suspense at the door, so it wasn’t the ginormous mirror surrounded by gas lights, or the curious shallow pool--even more so when Kaito straight out said to dismiss it. 

“Pff, Maki-chan did say our tub had your one here beat, but I wasn’t expecting the difference to be this drastic, admittedly,” Kokichi giggled, giving it an amused look. He could only feed off Kaito’s energy, though, as they headed to the stand alone shower, the fact of it being encased in glass already very impressive. He peered, intrigued, by the twisting rock facade and…

Well, okay, the gurgling noises were a little concerning, that sound usually meant something was wrong in Kokichi’s experience, but if it was supposed to happ--

“WAH!” Kokichi jumped in surprise, gaping at the sudden deluge of steam. 

“HA HA HA HAHAHAHA!” Kaito cackled, bringing up his arms to cover his face as he laughed, the steam escaping out of the shower because the glass was open, filling the bathroom like a sudden rush of smoke, before immediately thinning into the usual thin layer of steam. Kaito grinned wide as he wrapped his arms around Kokichi, holding him close as as the steam burst ended, resetting as the pipes trapped it, starting to rebuild their tension. “Isn’t that COOL?? It’s called a steam shower, and it’s pretty rare in Luminary too. I used to love bringing people up here to try it out for themselves. I don’t know, I know I should be used to it, but I love the noise and the sudden WOOSH of it, I always get really excited for it. Hold on, hold on, hear that? It’s setting up to go again.”

Kaito hopped a bit, still holding Kokichi as he waited for it, before laughing as it burst out again, covering Kokichi’s eyes so the steam didn’t rush directly into them before letting his hand drop. Laughing, far too pleased with himself. 

Kokichi blew out air, making space to breathe something other than steam, though with the door open it wasn’t muggy for long, before following Kaito into laughs. Though, Kokichi’s were more wondrous, taking a far more curious look at the shower now. “That is so cool. And just…like, such a creative way to set up a sauna??”

“Aw, it’s like a smoking volcano, right?” Kokichi looked up at Kaito eagerly, hoping he’d gotten the conceit before doing an eager little patter between his feet, waiting for the next burst. And even with the eye covering, Kokichi still squinted, though he giggled with delight. “What the heck, that’s so awesome…”

“It is! At least, I think it is? I think that’s what the black stone flooring is meant to be and, um, actually, I guess the fire mirror too,” Kaito realized, looking at the vanity mirror like this was the first time the thought had occurred to him. “The whole bathroom’s volcano themed. It’s neat, right?”

“And the idea is that when you’re done steaming, you can just pop out the faucet knob,” Kaito said, reaching in to pull the knob out, standing back as a sudden gush of water poured from where the steam had been blowing in, “And you can wash off all the sweat you’ve been building.”

Kaito let his hands run under the water for a moment, just enjoying the heat of it, before reaching over to turn the knob off. The water stopping, as Kaito leaned back against the wall, looking at the shower fondly, “Lots of memories in here. Though, admittedly, nowhere near as much talking as we do in your bathroom. Tubs are better for just hanging out in, I think. This setup inspires more, uh…” Kaito snickered, giving Kokichi a somewhat lewd, somewhat sheepish shrug, “body language.”

Kaito’s eyebrows raised slightly, seeing the heat on Kokichi’s skin, the way he was breathing a little faster. “Are you okay? Shoot, I should have warned you the room was going to fill with steam. Do you need to step back out?”

“Ooooh!” Kokichi admired, glancing around to the rest of the bathroom as well…which even with the glass fogging up, he could still do because the shower was glass. Like…sure, windows were so normal it was easy to forget them, and glass art was something he’d seen in Dicea, but glass was still expensive! And a crazy material when you thought about it, and while it made sense here, because of Luminary’s glass production and the fact that the Momotas could definitely afford any glass they wanted, it was still lavish. And the kind of thing that made Kokichi look at it in awe. 

Plenty warm from the steam and the hot water, Kokichi basked in it, before looking up, raising an eyebrow at Kaito before smirking a little. “I’m good, Kai-chan. Even if it did surprise me, I know nothing’s gonna hurt me here. And even in real life I think I’d be fine with this.”

He grinned a little wider. “I’m just admiring the whole thing, you know? Body language of the intended subject included.”

“Oh, right! Dream!” Kaito said, looking a little startled as he looked around, like sudden evidence of the room's dream-like quality would be more obvious, “I think I got so excited to show you my shower that I literally forgot where we were. Just like, yep, Kokichi’s in my childhood room, being impressed by the cool steam shower. Totally normal, everyday thing we can do.”

“I know I’ve said it a thousand times, but I’m very lucky to have you.” Kaito said, leaning down to kiss Kokichi lightly, “I do miss Luminary sometimes. I guess little things, like my weird, extra shower. It’s nice that you give me a way to visit it. Though…” Kaito grinned, kissing Kokichi again, “I’ll admit, I didn’t invite you here just to show off my old things.”

Kokichi giggled lightly, before pressing into Kaito’s kisses. Running a hand down Kaito’s arm to lightly hold his hand. “And I’m really grateful to be someone you wanna share stuff like this with. There’s so much cool stuff out in the world, a lot of it my Kai-chan knows about, and getting to see it from your point of view is…incredible! And I like being able to let you come back to it too.”

Giving Kaito an amused, coy look, Kokichi huffed, “My, Kai-chan? I can’t believe it, I really thought he was showing me his sexy shower to butter me up for another painting, with all the dreamscapes I’ve been doing lately. You’re telling me my hot husband getting all wet and steamy doesn’t just want to hold my hand?”

Kaito laughed, reaching down to lightly grab Kokichi’s hands in his as he grinned cheekily, “We can hold hands! I like holding hands with my ‘Kichi! Your hands are perfect hand-holding size!”

Stepping forward, Kaito brought Kokichi’s hands up beside his head, pressing them lightly into the glass wall as he smirked down at him, “I like to hold them like this too.”

Kokichi could only smirk back. “I’m guessing you know exactly how sturdy these walls are, huh? Think I should probably strengthen them myself…just in case. For safety.” 

Folding his fingers over Kaito’s hand, Kokichi swayed his weight between his feet, giving his husband a wink. “So do I have to do a whole interpretive dance for the kind of body language you’re looking for, or can I get another kiss just by asking?”

Even literally existing in Kaito’s mind, Kaito couldn’t entirely believe that Kokichi had any idea what he did to him. Though, these days he was more and more willing to believe Kokichi got close to understanding the effect he had on him, as Kaito suppressed a growl into a sigh, leaning and whispering, “Babe, if you leave the glass as is, I’ll be so gentle… but if you strengthen it? I’m going to pin you to the middle of this wall.”

“And you’re about to dance plenty,” Kaito said… before lighting up a little, “But you can always have a kiss anytime you want, beautiful~” his sincerity and excitement at that taking away some of the bite from the earlier statements, as he leaned in to kiss him.

-

It’d been a good-ass while since Clara had set foot in Chonis. Not for any nefarious reason, she liked to think her track record for being banished was pretty clean! (Even if Anthony joked that that was only because she tended to leave places she’d get kicked out of razed to the ground.) Nah, she just had never had much of a reason to stay in the city. It was too far south for most of her routes so she’d just skipped by it. 

But that said, the woman clad in pink leather and denim, a headscarf covering her face matched with oversized sunglasses, strode through the city with the utmost confidence, even when she had to backtrack a few times to find the right back alley…and then discovering the rotted fence that she could slip through to an even back-er back alley, which finally matched the address she’d been given. 

Actually a pretty good place, all things considered, but she definitely understood the need to skip town as soon as possible, regardless of comfort. 

Heading to the tavern Prince Kokichi had mentioned, Clara held herself straight as she knocked on the doorframe. 

“OH GOD DAMMIT DEMYX WHAT DID YOU DO THIS TIME!?”

“WHAT!? I’M UPSTAIRS, I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” 

“YOU’RE THE ONLY DUMB BASTARD WHO GIVES OUT OUR ADDRESS, YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE GONE FOR IT TO BE SOMETHING YOU DID!” 

“GUYS, SHOULD I GET THE DOOR?!”

“NO, SORA! JUST–” muffled shouts that weren’t literally trying to be heard by the whole tavern, before the door opened, Axel peeking out warily. He raised an eyebrow–pink–before saying with an air of caution, “Yeah?”

“Hey there!” Clara said brightly, giving the man a polite bow. “This’ll be super embarrassing if I’m at the wrong place; you one of:” She looked at a scrap of paper in her glove. “Sora, Axel, Demyx, Ienzo, Namine, or eight other associated people I don’t have the names of?”

Axel squinted at her. “Um… if those people owe you money, then…” he squinted more, “...no.”

“Eheh!” Clara laughed brightly, putting her hands on the hips. “Well, I’m about a week late for a Unity gift, but how about if I told you I’m here to give you money?” She lowered her sunglasses for a moment, inviting Axel into a cheeky moment with an impish look. “Courtesy of the very generous Ouma family. Iiiiif I’m at the right place.”

Axel’s eyes widened, processing for a second… before he opened the door wide, stepping back with a winning grin. “OH, did you say Axel? I absolutely misheard you until this very second, but it’s all coming in clear now. Please, please, any friend of Prince Kokichi is a friend of ours! GUYS!” Axel shouted up at the tavern, “THE LADY OUMA SENT IS HERE! DON’T FUCK THIS UP FOR US!” 

There was a scurry upstairs, Demyx peeking down the barrier as he said, “Woah, really!? I’ll be honest, I kinda thought you cut and ran by now!”

“Oh, does that mean we’re leaving soon, then?” Riku asked, leaning over the counter of the bar, Sora sitting on one of the stools, “The money’s to travel over the border, right? Should we start packing?”

“Uuuuh, I dunno, let’s talk to the others before I just say yeah, go pack,” Axel said, “...though I have no idea what you’d ‘pack’, you have like three outfits.”

“I’d pack those three outfits,” Riku said sagely.

Taking the invitation in, Clara watched the rush of excitement amusedly, taking off her sunglasses fully and tucking them into her jacket pocket. Even more than just the handful yelling, she could hear more footsteps up above, likely heading for the stairs. More sentiments like the blond’s--a pink-haired fella muttering, ‘seriously??’--while Clara just laughed a little to herself. “Oh, you guys’ll be a fun bunch.”

Though more people were still coming over, Clara started to take control of the narrative. “Almost, this money is the accommodation flow His Grace said was for you--food and supplies and all that. Planning a trip with over a dozen people is more than just a race with any old cart you can nab, so I’m handling the bigger order stuff. But, that’s stuff to still talk about.”

“First off!” she said brightly, nodding to the forming group, “I’m Clara Redgrave, nice to meet you. We’ll be working together, so I’m not gonna get into it more than just saying, don’t manipulate me with Empathy, it’ll just make things harder.”

Aqua straightened a bit, uncomfortable hearing a stranger talk about Empathy straight out, though it was Ienzo, unsurprisingly, that curiously asked, “You’re not an Empath yourself?”

“Nope!” Clara laughed, giving Ienzo an amused look. “Would’ve been a lot easier to contact you guys in the first place if I was, don’t you think?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that with us!” Sora said brightly, swinging his legs on the stall, “We only ever do that when we’re trying to steal things! Or get out of trouble from stealing things! Or not get arrested from the fights we got into from people noticing we were stealing things!” 

“Thank you, Sora, you made your point.” Luis sighed. “Also probably made this lass’s point too, considering we’re looking to her for funds. Believe it or not, miss, we don’t steal very often… too dangerous,” Luis said grimly. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell her we steal things?” Riku frowned, tilting his head to the side as he crossed his arms, “The prince might not like that, he might take the funds back?”

“Nah, that guy’s got a wild streak to him, I can tell,” Demyx grinned, “I bet if he was here he’d help us steal things. Just a vibe I get.”

“You’re out of your mind, there’s no way he would,” Axel frowned, “I bet he’d end up out delivering with Sora.”

“Can we focus?” Kairi sighed, pushing her way out through the crowd and going to Clara, bowing to her politely. “Sorry for my friends, they’re… well, we don’t have a lot of practice at being social outside of ourselves. It tends to make us act like we’re in our own little bubble.” Kairi laughed weakly, smiling sheepishly.

“I understand,” Clara smiled kindly at the young woman, “And no worries about it, alright? I’ve discovered the horribly shocking truth that being imprisoned doesn’t usually come with social outreach programs. As long as we can work together, I think we’ll be just fine.”

“Which does lead to another point, but!” Clara slipped off her backpack, the bag seeming rather…flat. Not empty, there was heft, and the vague shapes of some objects in it, but it really didn’t seem like the sort of thing holding a bunch of coin…or, really, anything that valuable. “I’ll hazard a guess the money’s the most pressing thing to you all currently. You have a bag or box or something to store it? It can be fun to make a shower, but I’d rather not make you guys pat into corners for everywhere the buggers’ve rolled off to.”

With a quiet hum, Aeleus came forward with a small but tightly enclosed crate, one of the more in better shape things they’d found in the tavern storeroom, and plunked it softly on the bar. 

And with a small sound that sounded kind of like, ‘eh, it should do,’, Clara took out a flat trifold folder made of canvas from her bag, undoing a few straps, before one seemed to actually do something and…

Ienzo swore he felt his heart stop, and Lauriam leaned forward, his jaw dropped. 

A literal shower of gold pieces plunking into the box. 

“Well, thankfully, we’re not actually that hard up anymore,” Demyx said, “We actually got into a bit of luck not that long ago and managed to get our hands on… 8…”

Everyone got very quiet as they watched that gold fall into the box. Like something fragile but beautiful was occurring, and one overly loud whisper would shatter the illusion, making it vanish. Sora whispered, just loud enough to be audible, like prayer during mourning, “That’s a lot of deliveries.”

“...” after a minute, Demyx worriedly looked at the others, “Are we sure Ouma doesn’t want anything for this? Triple, quadruple sure? This is, like… this is way more than even the really messed up kind of escort service would pay. This is, like, start up a new factory levels of money. We’re sure??”

“I… I’m pretty sure?” Kairi squeaked, some of the uncertainty more genuine than the wariness she could force in her voice to pretend at being Kairi, “He’s been on the up and up so far?”

“Yeah, this is a scary amount of money. I did not realize such a thing existed, yet, here we are,” Axel said, warily crossing his arms and stepping back, “Hooooo’h boy.”

“Are you lot crazy!? Ladies, gents, we’ve hit the JACKPOT!” Luis shouted, practically salivating at the sight of all that gold, “Who CARES if he wants to either fuck us sloppy style or make us fuck around with more brains by this point? We were eating lizards off the sidewalk a week ago! I am bought and sold!”

“Let’s not go that far,” Isa cautioned, “It’s exciting now, but we really don’t want to be swept up in it. We don’t want to end up in another factory.”

“Nor am I willing to be fucked ‘sloppy style’ either,” Even grimaced.

“I know it’s a sex thing, but why does it sound like it's a type I’ve never heard of?” Sora whispered to Riku, who shrugged.

Ienzo was stunned silent, and just plonked himself onto the edge of one of the booth seats. Pressing his hands together in front of his mouth and shaking his head a little. That was an insane amount of money. The 8 gold they’d gotten from Maya? Life-changing. 

This? Enough to…create entire lives. For multiple people. 

Maybe that was the point. 

“...well, how much is it?” Lauriam asked after a moment, voice far more wary than cocky. 

“780 gold,” Clara said gently, not a psychic herself but practically able to see the second impact her words had on the group. “Dicea’s got a crazy social program called Universal Basic Income. Believe me, I know how fake this sounds, but it’s basically eradicated poverty there. If the government knows you exist? Then every month you get 40 gold, split into two payments over the month.”

“When Prince Kokichi and I were talking, we went over how in general the cost of living in Luminary is more expensive, especially for emergencies, so,” as chipper as she’d been, Clara drew in a small breath, the amount of money not lost on her, for how often she smuggled large amounts around, “In order to ensure your financial safety for at least the next month, if it takes longer to leave, he put together thirteen orders of 60 gold for you all.”

“That’s 39,000 copper,” Ienzo whispered in a breath, still staring at nothing. 

“A month?” Aqua choked. “Ma’am, that can last us way more than a month.”

“Oh god, did you scam the Ouma?” Axel said, eyes dilating into pinpricks, “Oh, I cannot owe my life to a loan shark again, I just can’t do it, last time went so badly.”

“Hahahaha, he’s a prince! Not a loan shark!” Demyx squeaked, starting to sweat profusely, “From a royal family that can apparently pay all their citizens every month!? S-s-so he’s like the Momotas! He’s loaded! It’s fine!”

“I think I’m with Luis,” Dilan admitted, though he looked a little tired to say it, “If there’s a catch? We can’t turn our backs on this. Bought. Paid for.”

“Hold on, hold on, nothing’s changed!” Kairi said, putting up her hands, trying to create order, “This is exactly what we were expecting–”

“We thought he was going to send us, like, maybe fifty gold! And that was when we were drunk and talking ‘pie in the sky’ numbers!” Demyx shouted, “No one saw this coming!?”

“M-maybe we could pay it back?” Sora offered, though he winced as soon as he said it, “Though, I don’t know if I could make that many deliveries in a lifetime.”

“Perhaps he won’t want something as drastic as conditioning, perhaps he’ll simply want spies, or–” Even offered.

“Enough,” Kairi said, her expression suddenly going cold, putting up her hands, palm out, and then shoving them down.

Around her, a sudden emotion dome invisibly sprung up. CALM. QUIET.

Everyone around her suddenly went quiet, feeling calm. 

Clara calmly closed her eyes, and said evenly, “I get your point of order, miss, but I don’t appreciate that.” 

Within the sudden haze of his mind, Ienzo glanced over to Clara, curiosity sparking at him. How did she…?

“I won’t try to explain the eccentricities of the Oumas--to be honest, I don’t really get it either. Diceans are some real weirdos, and the Oumas most of all. But what I do understand is that this money is yours, no strings attached, and you’ll never be expected to pay it back, even if you decide not to come to Dicea,” Clara said evenly, gaze calm but clear when she opened her eyes again. 

Kairi honestly wasn’t able to hold the dome for very long anyway. It was considered basically witchcraft among her group that she could pull that off at all. Another point to her ‘witch’ title. After a moment, the dome burst, and everyone around her took a breath. 

“Oh, apologies,” Kairi said, “I didn’t think you’d notice anything had happened. This group can just get… riled up.”

“Look, ultimately what it comes down to is, whether we can trust them or not, the money is here now and going to Dicea is still the safest option for us,” Axel argued, “Even with Ienzo’s benefactor, and Sora’s deliveries–”

“And my street busking!” Demyx said.

“I wasn’t going to count that,” Axel said dryly, “Even with all of that to consider, we still can’t hope to even replace the locks in this tavern, let alone find a safer place to live. And you know who’s definitely going to try to force us to do conditioning again? Someone in Luminary, who knows that we can. Honestly, I think we’ve been crazy lucky that no one’s come to drag us out of here in the middle of the night yet. We know there are people out there who understand exactly how we work and what we can be used for. I wouldn’t be surprised if the supervisors were just holding onto that information by this point to sell it to the highest bidder.”

“Yeah, Mad Maya was saying the same thing, basically,” Demyx frowned, “That it’s just a matter of time. If enough people show up to take us out, it’s not like we can really stop them either. If they know to tranq Kairi first? The best the rest of us can hope to do is run.”

“Demyx!” Axel grumbled, rubbing his eyes, “I didn’t want to say that much with the stranger here…”

“Oh! I mean… a-all of us could totally pull off some cool Empath tricks!” Demyx said, “We’re… we’re all that powerful! Don’t try us!”  

“Honey, I’ve been fighting against psychic abuse and enslavement for the last ten years, I know what mass influence feels like,” Clara said dryly, taking a subtle breath to center herself again. She might’ve recognized the dome, but it still wasn’t very pleasant to have someone influencing your emotions all of a sudden. 

Rubbing his head, Ienzo gave Clara a bewildered look, but the point was side-tracked, especially as Aqua crossed her arms and frowned at Clara. Not gearing up any aggression, but just saying, “Don’t call her that.”

“My bad, apologies,” Clara conceded, bowing her head to Kairi before sighing in grim amusement. “...look, almost tit for tat? Though not really, since none of you can get to her right now…”

Her voice softened. “My daughter is an Empath from one of the factories. Her father and I managed to smuggle her out and to Dicea while the program was still in high gear and through a warzone. Protecting you guys on the way to Dicea almost sounds like a cakewalk…and it’s a cause that hits close to home, alright? Trust me with your well-being? And I vow to not break that trust.”

She smirked slightly. “Helps to have something of a secret weapon on our side too, for anyone who’d want to take the brute strength route.”

“Woah, what?” Demyx said, eyes widening, “One of the other factories?”

“Empaths have… escaped?” Isa said, frowning, “From other factories?”

There was a curiosity in the general group’s demeanor at this idea. None of them had ever heard of Empaths escaping once they were caught. But then, the supervisors likely would have never told them about it. Still, that hadn’t felt like a real possibility, let alone one that had actually happened. 

“Do you drink, Miss Clara?” Axel said, gesturing to the bar, “We have drinks. You have a story we want to hear. Trade?”

“Not as many as you’d hope, but some, yeah,” Clara said, before snorting a laugh. “I’ll definitely take a drink to tell this one, sure. Though, uh…”

She gave the group a sheepish grin. “Can I have your names so I don’t have to guess around the five Prince Kokichi gave me?”

-

With introductions given and drinks poured, Clara sat back against the bar on one of the stools and started to speak. 

“Ten years ago, I didn’t know what the heck an Empath was. Anything ‘magical’ is either Atua’s miracles or demonic, right? I never thought that much about it, and I still didn’t, when I got a letter telling me my brother was missing.” Clara frowned, some sort of deeper loss in her face, though the others didn’t interrupt. “He used to be a part of a special unit of the guards in Uhmen, tactical force stuff. There had been an incident in the summer, most of the unit declared dead, and the others discharged from service. Then, right after, he disappeared.”

Sipping her drink, Clara rolled her eyes. “So obviously I had to go find him.”

-

“So, wait, was Clara the one that told you about Empaths then? Or was it, like, pure coincidence you two met when she was looking for her brother?” Kaito asked, laid out on the floor, looking up to where Lio was sitting on his couch. 

Kaito, honestly just wanting some company more than anything that day, had invited Lio over to finally have that drink and convo they had planned a thousand years ago. They had been drinking for a bit, Kaito having invited Lio to hang out in his shrine since they were going to be talking about stuff that probably shouldn’t be overheard in a bar, setting up the hookah if Lio enjoyed that sort of thing and otherwise the two having just chatted for a bit by this point, mostly talking about the kids.

But they had finally started to get into the story of what had happened at the factories, Lio telling Kaito a bit about how he had met Clara to begin with.

“No, it was coincidence,” Lio laughed through a wince, rolling his glass slightly in his hand. “I, uh…said some pretty awful stuff when I found out she was Luminary later on, accused her of knowing everything and luring me into a trap but I was just lashing out. She had no more an idea of what was going on than I did.”

“Look, it was dumb teen impulses to join a war, and that carried on to me meeting Clara,” Lio sighed. “There was a team who’d found some important-looking compound out in the middle of the desert and they went to go scope it out. Figuring out if it was something for civilians or something that’d disrupt the war efforts, right? I was meant to go meet up with them…but I got a carrier bird message to stay away.”

Lio glanced down at Kaito, giving him a small smirk. “I bet it would’ve driven your military crazy to hear that I elected to completely ignore that and go anyway. It sounded like something had gone wrong, why wouldn’t I go help?”

Rolling his eyes, Lio sat back with a sigh. Tequila had been a good call. “I found out quick. I know the technical terminology now, but even with that, I think ‘monster’ is still the best descriptor. I found it on my way to the compound, not even in it, eating some poor soul. Fought the creature…and nearly took Clara’s head off in shock when she ran into me, having just dealt with one on her own too.”

“Yanno, I sometimes think smarter people would’ve run after that, not just head right into ground zero.”

-

“Wait,” Sora said, eyes widening as he leaned in over the counter, absolutely enraptured by this part of the story, “Monsters?”

“You’re not talking about Empaths, right?” Axel frowned, “I mean, I’m assuming you’re not, because obviously it’d be crazy to tell us you saw a ‘monster’ that you killed and it was one of us, but, like… I can’t imagine what else you ran into.”

Clara frowned, sympathy, pity, and…guilt drawing her expression. “No, they weren’t Empaths. I don’t know how much information you guys got about the other Togami facilities, but from all the ones I know about? NEST was different. It wasn’t just for conditioning, it was for psychic experimentation.”

Ienzo’s eyes widened a little, nervously looking towards Even. 

“I say monster just so you get the idea of what I thought at the time, but they’re not, really. They were people and animals, once. Just so warped and twisted, mentally and physically, that, well, at least for the ones I saw at NEST, they just…weren’t anymore. Turned into mindless, violent monsters.” Clara huffed softly. “Almost like a zombie novel, honestly.”

“...no way,” Lauriam scoffed after a moment, giving Clara a suspicious look. “Sure, mentally Empathy can break someone, but physically?”

She gave him a lazy look. “We found out it’s a process called ‘G Evolution’. It was intended to be a way to erase mental limits so those who underwent it could use their full power and abilities, but it turns out those limits are there for a reason. Humans can easily tear their bodies apart with their own strength, and if something keeps putting them back together?”

Clara shook her head a little. “Well, we can touch on that later. Anyway… Lio and I headed for the compound, knowing now that if my brother or any of his comrades were still alive, it was probably barely. The plan was find out what we could, save anyone left, then get out.”

“And like all good plans, it immediately went shit up. We got maybe two steps into the compound before a flaming carriage hurled right towards us, and we got separated onto either side.” Clara smirked. “So that made it easy to decide who was going left and who was going right.”

…her smirk faded quickly. “The G subjects were everywhere, but every now and then there’d be a room or two without them. I found one of Lio’s comrades in one of those rooms…but he’d been attacked. Badly. He basically had to fight me off himself, despite it all, to keep me from ‘wasting supplies on the already dead’.” Clara paused, lifting her glass in solemn remembrance of the brave, kind soldier. “...Martin had heard of my brother. Some of the notes he’d found in the compound. Apparently the incident that happened to my brother’s unit was related to G Evolution too, and Christian was investigating it, but he got a tip of something about it in Danganronpa so he’d skipped town. I was relieved he was alright, but I still needed a way to get back to Lio.”

-

Kaito gave a strained, nervous giggle. “Oh. That’s what you meant by monsters. I thought you meant, like…  jerks…”

Already Kaito was seriously considering whether he needed to tell Kokichi about this or try to take it to his grave… and then apologize for it in the afterlife? Ahhhhhhhhhh.

“Well, I’m glad her brother got out of there.” Kaito sighed, turning over onto his stomach and sipping at his tequila. “Though, I’m sorry about your friend. And I don’t mean I’m sorry in a ‘sorry that happened way’, just…sorry as a Momota. I don’t know how much anyone in my family knew, but it still happened on our watch. So… I’m sorry. We failed you.”

Lio smiled wanly at Kaito. “Thanks, Kaito… Though I think your family failed your people more than an enemy soldier.” Immediately Lio winced. “....okay, ouch, that sounds way more harsh than I meant it. I just… Optimistically? I liked to think that if any of the politicians, your folks, actually knew what was happening in NEST, it would’ve gotten stopped. But either way it…did still happen. And while the people directly responsible aren’t around anymore, well…that’s kind of been my past decade, outside of my family.”

“I didn’t really find anyone I could, er, talk to, for a while. I just focused on getting through the part of the building I was in, looking for paths over. There were notes, messages, everywhere, which is kind of why I can even tell you what had happened coherently. I’m still not sure if some of it was just bad organization and security, or just…” Lio quieted a little, sighing, “...people wanting to get a last message out, one way or another.”

“I felt like I spent an eternity fighting off the G subjects and finding bodies…and then I met Char.” There was a shadow of a smile on Lio’s face as he shook his head a little, cheeks flushing just a bit. “Maybe she’s the reason I had that optimism about your folks, even if…well, I’ll get to that. But after saving my neck, literally, she introduced herself as a Royal Inquisitor.” Lio laughed a bit. “And had to explain to me what that meant. But she said that she was looking for a certain Togami Employee, and had been sent to shut the facility down. Even if her being Luminary wasn’t the most comforting thing to hear at the time, meeting someone else basically on my “side”? You wouldn’t believe how relieved I was.”

“Hah,” Kaito said weakly, before shrugging a bit, “Honestly, I always say ‘if’ my parents knew to just be… kind of gentle on my own mental health? I know they probably did. You’re not saying anything wrong just pointing that out. They were dumb scumbags.”

Kaito felt ill saying it, but, like… he just had to get over that. His family had ruled over a brainwashing enslavement program that did not have a five year limit, which had been the bit that had made it all easier to stomach… and fuck him, he had known that since he was, like, 10. So that wasn’t even surprising, even if he hadn’t wanted to think about it. Now his family had also resided over, haaaaaaaah, turning people into mindless, rampaging, literal monsters, hah hah… hah.

Eh.

Though, Kaito’s eyes widened at the next revelation. “She’s an inquisitor! Wow! …scary!” Kaito laughed, though he sounded a little in awe to say it, “Those people are… shoot, I don’t know how to describe them. Well, you know who they are, if you’ve talked to one before. They don’t answer to knights, elites, nobles, hell, if an inquisitor came to me and told me I had to follow them into some dark room, I’d… go,” Kaito grinned warily, “And fucking start praying. They don’t answer to anyone but the absolute top of the elites. Like, the people who lead everyone else. And even then, barely. That was partly what made them so terrifying. No one could seem to get a grasp of who they answered to, just that no one could make them face consequences for anything. Wow.”

Lio smiled a bit, though Kaito wouldn’t be wrong if he described the way Lio nodded as…dreamy. “Char’s definitely that type. We were walking through a living nightmare, and nothing seemed to phase her in the slightest. If I’d been in a different state of mind, I might’ve called her heartless, but then I was just so relieved for any kind of help.” He grimaced. “...especially with the huge G subject that started showing up after that. I…”

Lio trailed off, his eyes going a little glassy, before he took a drink and shook his head. “...nah. Too graphic.”

Taking a breath, he continued. “Unfortunately, I did get briefly separated from Char, but Clara and I spotted each other again…on opposite sides of a grated, locked door. We filled each other in on the things we’d learned, stuff about fighting the G subjects, she told me about Martin and her brother, I told her about Char…” Lio’s smile returned. “...and that was the first time she told me about Cheri.”

-

“Booooo!” Demyx called, “Tell us more about the horrifying beast guy!” 

“Shut up, Demyx, that was a person at some point,” Even scolded, sipping on some of his vodka straight, like a menace, “...though a fascinating person, in the grand scheme of history. I would have loved to have seen it for myself.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Isa growled, before huffing, “Wait, I feel like we breezed past this ‘Cheri’ person. Who was this?”

Clara’s smile went adoring and proud. “Cheri’s my daughter.” 

Aqua breathed deeply, feeling the pain of grief and letting it run through her…before giving Clara a sympathetic look. “...you said your daughter was from a factory. So the place being overrun with ‘monsters’ and death…”

Clara nodded, her smile staying, but her gaze grimly bemused. “She’s not my biological daughter. Cheri was the biological daughter of two of the Empaths at NEST…not like you guys,” she said, voice growing drier. “Empaths that were willingly employed by Togami.”

“What?!” Lauriam hissed, looking genuinely pissed in his surprise. “Who the fuck would volunteer for that?!” 

Clara looked at him dead on. “The people who developed G Evolution.”

In the silence that followed that, she continued the story. “I found Cheri hiding. And, well, I bet you can imagine. I see this scared little girl, she was only 9 at the time, in a place overrun with monsters, there was no way I could just move on without her. But she’s always been so smart.” Clara chuckled a bit. “She could barely get the words out, but she told me I needed help.”

“I never meant to one-up Lio, but if Mr. X was a giant,” Mr. X being what they had nicknamed the G subject Lio and Char had first encountered, as Clara had already explained, “Then the fella that showed up next was a behemoth. Honestly, I was lucky to skate by as much as I did. In the boiler room I made use of damaging the pipes and getting it stuck in the steam, but if it hadn’t fallen over a railing, I would’ve been toast.”

Clara smirked a little. “But apparently I was impressive enough, because I managed to gain Cheri’s trust. She dropped down a ladder for me, and actually helped me a lot through the compound. Didn’t feel great putting a little girl in extra danger, but I don’t think I would’ve made it out of the maintenance areas if she hadn’t been there.”

Again, Clara’s smile faded, but it was into anger this time. Old anger, for sure, but still there. “Maybe I’d gotten too complacent, working together with her through that. I should’ve sent a bolt through Silver’s head the moment I saw him.”

The Empaths all looked at each other, bewildered. Sure, they knew one Empath who voluntarily worked for the program, but he was one of the guys who had literally developed it. To think there were others…

“...but they never even gave us a chance to choose,” Isa muttered. 

And there was a bitterness, in that revelation. Not that any of them believed they would have volunteered for it, but…but to have been kidnapped and imprisoned, enslaved, while others had been… what? Allowed to treat the factory like a day job? Allowed to have homes, and lives, and friends? 

A few of them glanced uneasily at Aqua. Allowed to have children? 

“Fucking bullshit, man,” Demyx muttered.

“Wait,” Even frowned, “Who was–”

-

“Silver?” Kaito asked, having enthusiastically cheered to hear about the Cheri rescue, though the look on Lio’s face at discussing the new person made him think it hadn’t exactly gone smoothly from there. 

“A Togami supervisor,” Lio scowled, looking across the shrine over his glass. “One of the higher ups at the facility. I never came across the guy in person, but,” Lio let go of an irritated sigh, “I did find a note about him at one point. The…the destruction the G subjects caused didn’t all happen at once. There had been attempts to contain it, and at one point it didn’t seem to matter who the survivors were--Luminary, Dicean, Indentured, employees…they were just trying to survive. Silver had gotten a group together, seemed to be leading them…and trapped them. Used them as bait for a licker.”

One of the more disturbing forms of G subjects Lio had come across, though he hadn’t wanted to go into detail about what exactly it looked like. He’d just told Kaito that while they had once been human, lickers had changed so much they no longer resembled the human form at all. 

“Since he was a supervisor, he knew Cheri, and…I guess between everything, there was just enough confusion that he managed to pull a crossbolt on Clara before she could react.” Lio’s eyes squinted in pain. “...Cheri’s told me about the nightmares she has about that. We all have them about NEST as a whole, but that moment… Silver told Cheri to come with him, or he’d kill Clara. Hurt her a bit until Cheri relented, even though Clara told her not to trust him…”

He took a deep breath. “...a kid shouldn’t have to negotiate a hostage situation. Cheri shouldn’t have had to do anything that night, but…” Lio swallowed. “...Silver was even more of a piece of work besides that, but for making my daughter feel like it was her fault if anything happened to Clara, to put that guilt on her… Hope that asshole is wallowing in his trials.”

“Fuck him. Hope it added a hundred damn years to his journey,” Kaito agreed, sipping his tequila, groaning as he felt it burn down into his stomach, “...I can’t believe all of that happened. We were told it was an explosion. Like, a gas leak. No survivors…ugh,” Kaito groaned, running his hand over his face. “...what on earth did he want a little girl for? Because she was an Empath?” Kaito realized, looking up, frowning, “Why go through all of that for one Empath?”

Lio gave Kaito a grim, tired smile. “...Kaito, do you remember how I said I got my shoulder injury?”

When Kaito nodded, Lio nodded back. “The friend I had been arguing with was Char. Long story short, I found out she wasn’t a Royal Inquisitor, or from Luminary at all. She’s a spy from Novoselic, who had been sent to get information about the conditioning experiments happening at NEST.”

He sighed a little. “...I was stressed, and stupid, and just wanted to know why she’d lied to me. Char had saved my life the whole time we’d teamed up together, but after learning about Silver, I just…got so frustrated and scared about people lying to me about who they were, and I’d recently learned that Clara was Luminous too even if that was just me assuming rather than her lying…”

“She didn’t have time for all that when we were in an apocalypse, and she’d started to walk away…and I saw the crossbolt.” Despite the subject, a little smile grew on Lio’s lips, like it was something precious. “Which had been shot by the woman Char had been trying to find. Annette Birkin. …Cheri’s biological mother. And despite her target right there…”

Lio let out a shy little laugh. “I woke up later with my shoulder wrapped and Char’s jacket draped over me.”

-

“...that doesn't answer the question,” Even frowned, “Why did Silver focus on Cheri? He had factories worth of us. Certainly one child wasn’t worth the risk for him.”

“It’s wild to me your friend was that surprised you were Luminary,” Demyx added, frowning, “I mean, he was in Luminary. You’d think he’d have assumed?”

“No, that part doesn’t surprise me,” Luis said, “You see that with the Noveselic folks as well, which is why I’m familiar with it, my lot coming from that border. We have a reputation, to basically everyone outside our country. There’s a loooot of folks out there convinced of the whole ‘barbarian’ myth.”

“Barbarian?” Sora asked, not familiar with the term.

“Couldn’t tell you what it properly means, but it’s short hand for ‘dumb fuck who tries to solve every problem by putting their fist through it,’” Luis explained, “Folks cross the border or meet a Luminous for the first time and are shocked we’re talking in full sentences. He probably saw our clever pink badass lass here and just thought ‘well, a Luminary would never save anyone, is’ gotta be someone else’.”

“No way, that’s not a thing,” Demyx said, sticking out his tongue… before glancing warily at Clara, “That a thing?”

Clara nodded. “Luis got it spot on. It’s gotten way better in Dicea lately, but back then? Lio told me that he thought I couldn’t be Luminary because I’d made a ‘come here often’ joke the first time we met back up in the compound. Like, Luminary’s reputation is so bad outside the country, people can’t even fathom we can make jokes about anything but killing. Let alone be scared or want to protect our families or be interested in art or literature… Lio said that he saw me as a person, so…of course I couldn’t be Luminary.”

She let out a short sigh, flicking some of her bangs out of her face. “But, well, it’s getting a little better. And I told you about Lio getting shot because it adds context.”

“Annette Birkin was one of the voluntary Empaths in NEST, one of the developers of G Evolution,” Clara explained. “Cheri’s father, William Birkin, was the other…and willingly underwent G Evolution himself when Silver and the other higher ups tried to stop the G Evolution project.” Clara’s gaze was dry and cutting. “It turns out juggernaut monsters aren’t that helpful if you can’t control them.”

“And for the most part, no one could, they were truly mindless. But maybe because he did it to himself, maybe because he was an Empath…there was still something of William there.” Clara sipped her drink. “The behemoth G subject I’d fought in the boiler…I’m sure it could’ve noticed me before. But it only started attacking me when I tried to get closer to Cheri.”

“No…” Aqua whispered. 

“I’ve no doubt he would’ve killed her. He really wasn’t in control,” Clara grimaced, “But there was still something in William that remembered Cheri and…maybe wanted to protect her. Silver figured that out, and figured that maybe the rest of the facility was lost, but if he had an unstoppable monster that he could control?” She scoffed. “There are some people more deserving of our stereotype than others.”

“Maybe it’s cosmic irony, though. Cheri managed to escape Silver just long enough; found some acid, burned his eyes,” Clara proudly smirked, “And when William came along, well, it was easy pickings.”

-

“Holy shit, Cheri!” Kaito gasped, “I mean, good job, but fuck! Ooooooh, I wanna give her a hug the next time I see her. Fuuuuuuck. Is it too late to spoil your kids? I could buy them things? Does Cheri want her own, personal carriage? I can get her one!” Kaito groaned, putting his head in his hands, “Oh, poor baby… I mean, good, fuck Silver. But a kid shouldn’t have to do that.”

Lio huffed the outline of a laugh, nodding as he pressed his glass to his forehead, eyes squeezing shut as they burned. “She’s more brave than any kid should ever have to be in their lives. I mean…it’d make sense with anything we saw that night, but you see why I couldn’t just… More qualified, vetted parents maybe would’ve been more responsible, but I couldn’t abandon her. She’d been through too much…”

Lio let out a shaky breath, pulling himself together for the last parts of their journey. “After I woke up, I tried to find the others…and I did. Char and Cheri facing off against William. Char was trying to protect Cheri, fending him off, but she’d gotten hurt. I…” Old guilt came across Lio’s face in a wave. “...I wanted to just jump in, be the hero, just like how I’d joined a war and disregarded a ‘do not come’ message… Char cut me off at the pass. She’d dressed it, so she knew how badly my shoulder was messed up, so she just told me to get Cheri and move somewhere safer, and she’d keep William off of us. I…did.”

“Clara showed up soon after, helped Char with the fight, but it wasn’t looking good…” Lio let out a huff, “And then the whole party came together, because Annette showed up. With a freaking shoulder cannon.”

“She…basically explained everything. William, the experiments…that everything was their fault. If the G subjects got out, they’d terrorize the rest of the country, not to mention if the wrong people got their hands on them to reverse engineer everything, so she’d rigged the compound with explosives that she’d blow once we got out. And…she aimed at William.”

Lio let out a breath, scratching the back of his head. “...a shoulder cannon blast on what was basically a catwalk maybe wasn’t the smartest thing. The walkway started to fall… Clara was the closest to the stable part, where Cheri and I were, but the others…”

Lio smiled painfully. “I caught Char’s hand, Cheri caught Annette’s…William caught Annette’s lower body. She…pleaded with us to take care of Cheri. Get her out of there, give her a life William and she never could’ve… She was a piece of work in her own right, but…I think she saw what was important at the end. I respect her for that, so…hope her trials are going well.”

Maybe it was a bit confusing, but the next breath Lio bit out was…annoyed. “Char told me to drop her. Knew my shoulder wasn’t going to hold, and if I kept trying I’d fall down too. I told her I wasn’t giving up on her…” He rolled his eyes. “And she held up a knife to me.”

-

“Gasp,” Axel whispered, eyes wide.

“Sora, why are you crying?” Riku whispered to him–everyone was whispering, because Luminary showed respect through silence, and damn did that story deserve some respect–as Sora’s eyes wobbled next to him.

“Y-you’ll understand w-when you’re whole, friend,” Sora whimpered.

“Oh no, why would she hold a knife to him?” Demyx whispered, eyes also watery, “Did she die?”

Clara tsked a bit, a smirk on her face, despite her own wet eyes. It was never an easy story to tell. “Char. I can still hear the exact way she said it. ‘Heads up, dandelion!’”

“She threw the knife past Lio, to the G subject that had come up behind Cheri,” Clara shook her head, “The noise startled all of us, honestly. But Cheri took the knife and took out the dang thing, all while Char fell from Lio’s grasp with a freaking smile on her face.”

She gave Demyx a ‘can you believe this’ sort of look. “Don’t be fooled by the dramatic pacing, she’s not dead. Last I heard, which was a few months ago, Char was vacationing in Novis. Still didn’t keep her from letting Lio think she was dead for a few years.” Clara tsked again. “She can be such an ass, he can do so much better than her.”

“Considering our hands were now free…and the detonation countdown started, Annette apparently not wanting to leave it up to chance if she couldn’t press the button later, we helped Cheri with the G subject, and…well, got out. Just in time.” Clara knocked back the rest of her drink. “Thus ends the tale of why I dropped out of college at 20.”

-

Kaito clapped. Elsewhere, several Empaths did as well. How could they not? What a tale! 

“Man, no wonder you couldn’t just tell me offhand what had happened,” Kaito sighed, leaning back from where he had sat up, flushed from alcohol and adrenaline, “You went through a whole adventure! And you were just a teenager too…I really, really need teenagers to stop having a bunch of life altering adventures happening to them. You guys have me worried so much. I was just having sex and listening to gossip at that age, like, occasionally committing petty theft to impress cute boys.”

Kaito tilted his head, did some mental math, before amending, “Well, no, I think when you were that age, I was going through a big ol’ scandal or something. Cheri’s 20 now, right? She was 9 at the time, I was 12…. Yeah, while Cheri was fighting literal monsters and burning guy’s eyes out and you were losing ladies over chasms of pseudo-death, my biggest worry was saying something embarrassing on a stage in front of people.” Kaito scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I swear man, you all really put things in perspective. And by ‘you all’ I think I literally mean ‘every other person I’ve ever met’. It’s insane what people go through… though that story was a top contender for ‘holy shit’ stories.”

Lio wiped his eyes a bit, though he gave a laugh. “A word of advice, don’t compare anything to that story, it just gets depressing. Though the fact that it’s just a contender? …shit, man, no wonder you’re worried. I got nerves more frayed than an old ball of yarn and a life-long dedication to a cause through that, no one ever needs to go through anything even close.”

Lio sighed and leaned forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. “...of course, I say that knowing about Clara’s friend who she’s bringing with all those Empaths of yours.”

“It’ll be fine! It’ll be fine, I think,” Kaito said, brow pinching, before shaking his head, “No, it’ll be fine. They’re people that need help, just as much as anyone they conditioned. My Kokichi wouldn’t invite them here if that wasn’t the case. They’re… Cheris, not Annettes! They just cosplayed as Annettes. Because sometimes to not want to kill yourself, you have to be the devil’s advocate, because… boy, are you just trapped in hellfire sometimes.” Kaito laughed warily, before taking another sip of tequila. “Fuck.”

“I don’t know, I hate that all of that happened to you, but I’m so glad you’re long on the other side of it now,” Kaito sighed, giving Lio a worried look, “Though…to go from that, to taking care of a little girl? I know how much of your brain raising kids can take. I know being responsible for another person's well-being can mean putting off the breakdown for… well, until you can’t anymore. Are… are you okay?”

“I trust you guys and…well, no offense, but I trust Clara. She might not have the psychic advantage, but she’ll know an Annette if she sees one.” Lio’s expression softened a bit. “...and she’ll know an Annette, as she was before death, too. You don’t need to have been a ‘perfect victim’ to deserve to be saved, or even helped. They were prisoners. Whatever they might’ve done, as long as they don’t want to do it anymore? Then they deserve help.”

Slowly, Lio scooted off the couch to join Kaito on the floor, resting his head back on the couch. “...to be honest, I don’t know. I’ve sure had my fair share of mistakes and meltdowns over the years… Because of Cheri, and my injury, when Clara and I started making, or joining, depending on how you look at it, our network for this kind of stuff, I was just meant to be, like…a home base, you know? A place for information to be sent and compiled, a safehouse, someone to contact… Basically two years after NEST, I was out in the ‘field’ again. I’m glad we got Nela to safety but…I shouldn’t have been there, man.”

“Like to think I’ve learned some things, though. Only time I’ve left home since is vacations with the girls.”

Kaito lit up. Floor time~ Maki and Shuichi would be so proud of him, that he got Lio to the floor.

But Kaito sighed at Lio’s explanation, shaking his head. “I definitely want the Nela story sometime, because I bet it’s also incredible, but… I really mean if you’ve had your chance to grieve yet. That stuff didn’t just happen to your kids, it happened to you. That was too much for a… what were you? 18? That’s too much for a guy two years off in Dicea from even being allowed to drink, let alone be an independent adult. And now you have Bianka, which means you’re still deep in that ‘being a reliable dad’ phase…I just hope you found ways to give yourself days to just fucking be sad about all of that, man. Because there’s no way you can keep that much terror just bottled up in you for years and years, that’s how you give yourself a damn ulcer and probably a mental illness.”

Lio gave Kaito a small, grateful look before huffing a soft laugh. “Well, I’m not disputing any mental illness claims regardless. The PTSD alone is a nightmare. But…yeah, I do. Probably noooooot as much as I should…” Lio rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish look. “Clara’s been telling me…basically for years to find someone to talk about this more with. Other than therapy, I mean, just not keeping it as this…big horrible secret from people who already know the big revelations.”

“...my kids really are the best,” Lio said quietly, smiling softly. “These days they call it ‘sad dad days’. Sometimes it’ll be them handling cooking for the day, and just spending time with me, or setting up plans so I can have time to myself. I do wish they didn’t have to, but…I’m grateful when they do it. Intuitive little sneaks.”

“Oh nooooo,” Kaito said, looking weirdly smitten, despite the term, “Sad dad days? Ugh, that’s cute. I mean, not great, but absolutely adorable.”

Kaito considered the implications of what Lio had just said, tilting his head back and humming… before he straightened up, grinning. “Well, I’m down for hearing this story a million times, just to be clear. Like, with whatever little focuses and specifics or observations that comes with it… I get it, you know? Sometimes you just gotta tell someone what happened. Just talking about it at all helps! I don’t even have to say anything particularly helpful, I just have to be a listening pair of ears, and bam! You’ll feel a little better!”

“But,” Kaito snickered, scooting over to sit next to Lio, laying against the couch with him, “Because I’m a talker by nature, I’m gonna say something anyway. As terrible as all of that shit was… dude!” Kaito nudged Lio’s shoulder a bit, grinning, “You’re a hero! Like, a real one! Undisputed! Whatever you were trying to prove, going out there back then… you proved it. You have nothing to be ashamed about, nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s the rest of the world that should be embarrassed that little Lio had to put on his hiking boots and go save the damn day from the monster apocalypse. And you saved a little girl doing it, not once, not twice, but three times! Three! What a fucking record! You’re the god damned champion of being One Of The Best Guys!” Kaito laughed, before grinning gently. “People should be tripping all over themselves, just to get the opportunity to talk to you. It’s incredible.”

Lio smiled with a knowing nod. It was very cute. Sucked, because while a child could be kind and considerate, they shouldn’t have to take care of a parent, but…well, Lio really couldn’t deny the appreciation he felt that his daughters wanted to. And he had to admit it did help, just having days that he could…be. And not have to be responsible for anything. He liked to think he pulled himself out of it when his daughters did need something on those days, though. 

Mildly surprised by the offer, Lio then gave Kaito a grateful smile. Moving with the nudge with a laugh that near on bordered a giggle as he flushed a bit. “Three’s a pretty good record, huh? Maybe I’ll look into getting a trophy.”

“Kokichi can present it. I don’t think Oumas are supposed to give out trophies, but I’ll talk him into it, this can be the exception,” Kaito assured, “Your girls will be able to tell anyone willing to listen that one of the Oumas declared their dad One Of The Best Guys. Who else gets a bragging right like that??”

“You’d deserve it. It’s really cool, getting to talk to a bonafide hero. Tween me would be throwing a fit right now, demanding I demand more stories… but one traumatic retelling is enough for a day,” Kaito sighed, grabbing the tequila bottle and pouring them both more drinks, “...actually, no. I wanna hear more about how you daringly crossed the border and ignored orders. We breezed past that bit, I want the full story! Even that part was cool! Lay it on me man!” 

“An Ouma making an exception for me? I think that’s a little too much flattery,” Lio laughed, before giving Kaito a grin as he refilled his glass. “Alright, alright, so the war had already been going on for about five years at that point…”

-

It was hard for anything to follow up a story like that, but they had talked to Clara for a while longer, sorting out travel plans and what to plan on coming up. And when she bade them adieu, pretty much everyone felt the need to chill out and de-stress. So it wasn’t strange when Aqua left the tavern alone. 

…fuck. 

Terra felt the emptiness within them, the yawning void that was never quite gone. Other Empaths had been able to have love. Children. Keep their children, protect them from being made a tool, at least… 9 was more time than a lot of the Indentured children they saw got. 

They could see a future, where they had been able to argue for Ventus’ innocence, keeping him shielded, happy and safe, and if the supervisors had started throwing a fuss because of Ventus being of age…he’d just turned 13. They would’ve already been free. Maybe being stuck in a factory wasn’t the greatest upbringing even still, but…

Terra let go of a shaky breath, before gripping his fists. Someone had to pay for this. Feel oblivion themselves.

-

It was either a very nice sports shed, or a very shitty cabin. Either way, it had a sink and a bathroom, and that bathroom even had a shower! It was, in fact, mostly shower. Like someone had installed a toilet just to see if they could, and to everyone’s shock, especially the toilet’s, it had worked! So long as you were willing to squeeze past the door now, which could not only open so wide because of, in fact, the toilet.

“In retrospect, maybe they should have installed the door on the shower side?” Harrier pointed out to Kim, after barely squeezing his body through the opening. “Since the shower side just needs a drain and a faucet, but the toilet side is a whole entire toilet, you know?”

“Or the door could have opened outwards,” Kim said dryly, “But then, we did not design the place, so there is nothing to be retrospective about.”

“It’s the cabin that’s reflecting,” Harrier said, a tad defensively, “The toilet rethinking things. Even if its existence isn’t its own fault, who are we to tell it not to ponder the choices others made on its behalf?”

“The toilet’s not talking to you, Harry,” Kim said, staring out the window.

“You don’t know, it could be.” Harrier frowned, looking uneasy. “It’s not like all the items are mad at me and are apparently giving me the silent treatment.”

“...what?” Kim asked.

“Nothing.” Harrier frowned, squirming uncomfortably. “What are we doing today?”

“I’m… going to let you take the lead on that, detective,” Kim said, the spring mattress he was sitting on shifting under his weight as he stood up, “Where do you think we should go next?”

“Oh, well,” Harrier tilted his head, before pulling out his ledger, looking down at his notes, “We’re supposed to go meet the wizard at some point. Bog said they’d introduce us. Perhaps we should go follow them up on that?”

“Lead the way, detective.” Kim nodded.

Another day, another set of farm chores, which is what the detectives had found Bog doing when they walked back over to their farm. They’d just been walking out of a coop, feathers sticking to their clothes and a few eggs in a basket when they spotted Kim and Harrier, waving and agreeing to take them to the Wizard’s tower in just a moment. 

As usual, the walk south of the farm and through Cindersap Forest was calm in the midmorning, and Bog’s path was sure as they walked around the small lake, a tall stone tower with dormant vegetation starting to loom over a ridge. And as they climbed the stairs, Bog gave the duo a sheepish look. “Fair warning, I think Rasmodius will help if he can, but he’s not always the most personable guy. Secluding yourself in a tower away from everyone else will do that to you, I guess.”

With a brief knock as a warning, Bog entered the tower, a man with purple hair and beard not even glancing up from the cauldron he was pondering. 

“And so our visitors have come here,” he said cryptically.

“Oh man… this hobo’s place is a lot nicer than our place, Kim,” Harrier observed, looking around the tower in awe.

“Officer, we don’t refer to people as ‘hobos’... wait,” Kim frowned, “What do you mean ‘this hobo’s’ place? In comparison to…?”

“Our hobo place,” Harrier said, “Since we’re hobo cops now.”

“We are not hobo cops,” Kim said, before looking Harrier up and down, amending, “I’m not a hobo cop.”

“We’re homeless and living off scraps and charity,” Harrier said, “What else does that make us?”

“We are temporarily displaced,” Kim said, before looking to the, um… ‘Wizard’. “I apologize, my partner does not mean to be rude. Your home is lovely.”

“Mornin’, Rasmodius,” Bog greeted, reaching into one of their packs and pulling out a shimmering stone, offering it to the Wizard. “These two have got some funky circumstances so I figured you might know a thing or two. Also! Gift from me to you.”

Finally looking up from the cauldron, Magnus accepted the solar essence from Bog, giving them a small nod. “An appreciated specimen as always, Bog, thank you. And I do not begrudge your impressions, travelers. I can hardly fathom the differences our home might be to you.”

“They said they’re from a place called Revacho; do you know about it, Rasmodius?” Bog asked. The Wizard tended to speak like he ‘knew all’, and in fairness he did know a ludicrous amount about the archipelago and the state of nature within it, but Bog had learned that things usually went better if they just asked straight out what the Wizard did and didn’t know. 

Which was exemplified as Magnus answered, “No.”

And further, as he followed up, “Not your specific home, anyway. If you recall, travelers, how did you end up in the Solar Archipelago? Not your guess of the method, your experience of it.”

“Oh, um…” Harrier paused, trying to conceptualize exactly how it had happened. “We drove into a pocket of nothingness.”

Kim’s face tensed, but he said nothing. They, of course, hadn’t driven into a pocket of nothing, the theories of ‘pockets of nothingness’ was just pop-science propaganda… but he couldn’t argue that, perception-wise, that had been what had happened. 

“And then we woke up in Bog’s farm,” Harrier said, “No sign of injuries, no sign of drugs, nor dehydration or starvation to suggest we went without for the time period it would have taken us to be taken here. That said, no sign of regular maintenance that might have restored injuries we’ve given ourselves, or progression of injuries that really should have progressed by now.” Harrier said, tilting his head, “For instance, I have not seen a doctor for a head injury I definitely am still suffering from, and I’m pretty sure my liver is dying.”

“He’s fine. He just needs water,” Kim said, “But yes, we did seem to black out mid-drive, and woke up here.”

Bog gave them a concerned look before sighing. “I seriously would recommend going to Harvey’s, again.”

But their concern for Harrier’s health went unacknowledged as Rasmodius nodded, stroking his beard a few times before stepping over to the wall. He lifted a few hanging sheets of parchment before flipping them over the small brackets on either side, revealing a large map.

“Nothingness, La Duvide, The Pale… I see. Travelers, this is a map of our, as in Bog and my, home world.” Magnus waved a hand over such continents labeled as Eagane, Tiavel, Basacta, and of course Novis in the bottom right. “Shall I confirm none of these places are familiar to you?”

“Oh, no,” Kim muttered, “The ‘pale’ nonsense has followed us.”

Harrier, in turn, lit up a little. “Oh, the pale! My friend Joyce told me all about that. She’s rich and knows a lot about reality. She got me mostly caught up.”

The two detectives stepped closer to inspect the map. Harrier to see if his mind would supply any information–he had not seen for himself a world map yet–and Kim to squint at it, his eyesight not always the most reliable when it came to certain distances. Bifocals where they came from not the most reliable things.

Kim, unfortunately, didn’t see anything familiar. And his first, knee-jerk reaction was that it simply meant they were being messed with, misled, deceived for some reason…

While Harrier?

ENCYCLOPEDIA

Look for the Mesque–there is no Mesque. Look for Insulade–there is no Insulade. Seol?? Look for Seol?? THERE IS NO SEOL–

CONCEPTUALIZATION

It’s a new world, a new beginning. Perhaps we are a new us? Perhaps Harrier Du Bois was little more than a dream, and we can be anyone–

INLAND EMPIRE 

Was it all a dream!? No, no, it was our whole lives, we’ve already rebuilt our world this week, how can we do it again–

VOILITION

Be calm, take a breath. It is not the end of the world, even if it is the disappearance of one…

HALF LIGHT

WE ARE LOST WE ARE DOOMED WE ARE NON-PEOPLE IN A NON-WORLD

shivers

we are so, so, far away from ourselves… like a head guillotined from its own body, but still able to scream…

COMPOSURE

I believe we are going to faint.

Composure was correct. 

Kim frowned, stepping back as Harrier started frothing at the mouth and collapsed. He put up a hand towards the other two. “Please give him a moment, this happens from time to time. He will awake in a moment, entirely fine.”

“And, yes, this map is… unfamiliar to us,” Kim agreed, looking at the map, “Entirely.”

“Ah, your familiarity will help, then,” Magnus noted, before…uhh…

Bog started in concern, only stopped by Kim’s hand even as he told them not to worry. Bog was worried. Suddenly collapsing was never a good sign. 

Giving Harrier the moment, Magnus waited a bit, looking over his cauldron in the meanwhile, before continuing his explanation. “The universe is vast, travelers. While for most beings like you or me, we tend to only ever experience one space and time, perhaps getting glimpses of more if our circumstances are extraordinary, the amount of both are manifold.”

Gesturing back to the map, Magnus pointed to a set of islands in the top right. “While there are exceptions, such as beings formed from beyond physicality, such as the Junimo, Bog, things within our own space and time are statically confined. Except…for the Unknowable Isles. They are a nexus, of sorts, for things caught or traveling through The Pale. Things from other worlds, other times. And given that space is not static, sometimes they end up other places…such as you two finding yourselves in Novis, travelers.”

Bog blew out some air. All this was…a lot, but so was most of the magic Rasmodius had told them about since coming to the archipelago. The only thing you could do was roll with it. “So…to get back to their world, Kim and Harrier should travel to the Unknowable Isles? I guess that’s an answer, but it’s a long journey.”

“And an uncertain one,” Magnus shook his head. “There is no guarantee that going to the Unknowable Isles would deposit you back to your home, though the odds may be weighted in your favor. Things of the same universe gravitate towards each other. A perhaps more sure option would be to find one of those beings formed from non-physicality that has the correct domain, and gain their favor to return home.”

“The correct domain…” Bog repeated, before frowning. “So…not the Junimo?”

“The Junimo are nature spirits, their domain is in restoration and the natural world,” Magnus answered, “Not interdimensional travel.” 

Travel to the Unknowable Isles? 

…task accepted. 

Harrier wiped the foam from his mouth, sitting up and giving Kim a tired smile. “Well, at least we know what’s next?”

“Next? This is a long journey by ship. Do you have a ship, officer?” Kim said stiffly.

Harrier frowned, dipping his head in shame. “No. Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize for it…” Kim huffed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was frustrated. And a little afraid. He was starting to worry this whole thing might be some dying fever dream, his last desperate thoughts as he was crushed beneath his crashed auto-carriage. And… he should not be taking that out on Harry. “Nevermind, it’s good. It’s fine. We know what to do next, yes.”

“There’s also those non-physical beings,” Harrier reminded him, standing up, “If we found one and asked it for help? Kissed up to it a bit? Do you know any non-physical beings we can try to woo?” Harrier asked, looking surprisingly chipper, for a man who had just fainted and apologized for not having a ship. And had brain damage. And a probably failing liver. Kim was right, in one sense: Harrier seemed oddly durable, for a guy falling apart.

Bog pushed up their glasses uncertainly. Partinique had a port, so of course they came across ships… But they didn’t think Pam or Willy would be willing to take on a months’ long journey to a part of the world everyone was told to stay away from, no matter how good the pay was. Maybe they could take Harrier and Kim to one of the bigger ports in Novis, and maybe there’d be someone there looking for that kind of adventure, but…it was a far shot.

“I’m afraid not,” Magnus answered Harrier, on the subject of the non-physical beings, his usually cryptic and stern expression softening a bit. “By their nature, those kinds of beings can be drastically different from each other, the only thing unifying them the fact that they’re not fully of this world. But…they still are intrinsically a part of it as well. And because of that ‘in-between-ness’ they are not always welcome or accepted by physical beings. This leads to a rightful sense of caution and distrust. I cannot give you any solid advice, but I will simply advise to have care in your dealings with any you may find.”

“In the meantime, I will direct my efforts into locating some that may have the domains you are looking for,” Magnus gave the group a nod, clearly dismissive. “I will contact you if I make progress, while you work towards your passage to the Unknowable Isles.”

“...yes, thank you. We do appreciate the assistance.” 

Kim didn’t believe in any of that. But in truth, his literal most logical answer was that he was actively dying, or hallucinating, somewhere. And when that was the case, perhaps leaning into the hallucination was the only reasonable way forward. 

Either way, it did not change that their most immediate problems were that, apparently, they were now unemployed, had no savings, no pocket change, and were living–together–in a small cabin that only most technically qualified as such… with one bed. Together. With Detective Harrier. In a small space.

…they did not have toothbrushes.

They needed necessities for a long term stay. 

“I believe we need to go scour the beach,” Kim realized. “Collect… sea shells and such.”

“Oh, I can do that, Kim, you don’t have to,” Harrier said easily, “I’m used to picking up and bagging trash, remember? Why don’t you go explore the town, learn the layout, and I’ll go garbage picking?”

Kim sighed, looking around uncertainly. It was true he wasn’t looking forward to the exercise of collecting beach debris… “Perhaps I will find other means of gaining employment. Odd jobs,” Kim conceded.

“That’s the spirit! Hobo Cops are a GO!” Harrier cheered. 

-

(It was, perhaps, a small bit of irony that due to The Wizard’s disengagement with the townsfolk of Partinique, he was unaware of someone that did actually know where a being formed from non-physicality, one of such categories being Tulpa, might be. But maybe that was for all the best, since that person didn’t really concern themselves with those sorts of things. Instead more focused on…)

-

Sam had his eyes shut as he played, peacefully feeling the music he created with his guitar…and the feelings of anyone tuning into Sam’s Super Awesome Music Broadcast, catch it three to four days a week during afternoons and some evenings, anywhere Empaths were. Not that, uhhhh, he really advertised that. Ingrid made it sound so simple, but Telepaths and Empaths were Built Different. Sam had figured out a way to transmit his feelings about his music into something that actually sounded like music into the greater psychic space Empaths shared, but it was asking a different thing for him to talk during it. 

Abby said that was probably a good thing. Despite being in the same community, he didn’t really know the kinds of people he was broadcasting to, and the last thing he wanted was to tell a bunch of strangers where he lived. Though, she had followed that up with a noogie and telling him that if he started talking everyone would tune back out to avoid the psychic damage, so Sam didn’t fully invest in that. 

But, still, it was super awesome to be able to share music with people all over the world. It was almost like getting a stage before getting famous.

Demyx had been staring at the gold in the wooden box for some time now. Technically this was because it was his turn to guard it–780 gold couldn’t just be buried in a floorboard, someone always had to have their eyes on it–but he didn’t have to be literally looking at the golden coins. He just…it was so…shiny. 

He wondered what it’d be like to shower himself in that much gold.

Blinking, he smiled. He usually had half an ‘ear’ out for Empath Radio to start, and he could hear the swells of music beginning. He wished he had his sitar with him. He had left it in the other room. 

This time he just listened to it, taking it in. The music felt like warm days on the beach, staring out at the ocean. Demyx had never seen the ocean before himself. He wanted to, someday. It was nice imagining it, especially from where the radio host was. Maybe one day he’d see that beach that was always mixed with the sounds. It was almost like he could see.. It… now……

Demyx opened his eyes on a beach.

…what the hell?

A few notes hesitated, though, ever the super pro musician, Sam didn’t stop playing. Even if, uh…

“Uh, hey?” Sam tried, giving the guy a slightly hesitant wave, even as he looked around Partinique’s beach in confusion. Sure, a lot of the music Sam played was tied in with feelings about his home, but he’d never really made a whole daydream about it. At least, uh, most of the time. But definitely not while he was broadcasting to other Empaths, as making a dream to chill out in and, even more, talk in was something that could, like, only happen if a…stronger Empath was…supporting it. 

Sam gave a bashful grin. “Flattered as I am to meet a fan, can’t say someone’s ever thrown me this kind of party.”

“Um,” Demyx umm’d, looking around uncertainly. Where the hell was he? This wasn’t Destiny Island, and it sure wasn’t his own mind either. It didn’t look like any of the others' minds…was he?? In a new mind???

“....sorry, give me a second, I am wildly unprepared for this,” Demyx confessed, looking around warily again, scratching his scalp, “Did I grab you? Or did you grab me??”

“Huh?!” Sam ‘huh’ed, all cool calm facades fading into his genuine shock. “Wait, you aren’t doing this on purpose? Massive, dude.”

“So I guess I’d say this is…well…” Sam lightly bit the backing of his lip ring in uncertainty. “This does still feel like my mind, and I don’t think I’d be able to keep playing if someone snatched me up. But I don’t really ‘make’ stuff like this when I’m broadcasting. I just,” Sam snorted a little, mimicking Emily a little as he gave a little sway with his body, “open myself up to the eeeenergies~” 

“So this feels like you supporting me? Uh…sorta?” Sam let out a soft, sheepish laugh. “Sorry, I don’t meet a lot of other Empaths, I dunno if I’m explaining that right.”

“I mean… that sounds right to me,” Demyx shrugged, “I don’t really understand it, but I think you’re onto something! This is definitely a ‘me’ thing… probably!”

Demyx kicked his legs slightly, looking down at the sand. Neat… “Oh man, I should probably go. I’m supposed to be staring at stuff in the real world,” he admitted with a pout, looking around. “Also, you’re probably not super chill with just some random guy dropping in. That’s my bad. But wow! Look at that! That’s the ocean, huh?” Demyx whistled, looking around at it, “It’s huge! I mean, I knew in concept it was, but it’s way different seeing it in real life. You can’t see it all at once!”

Sam tilted his head a little--staring at stuff?--before shrugging a little with a grin. “I mean, music-lovers definitely get a leg up, and you don’t seem so bad, for a mind-invader,” he snickered. “A guy stumbling into my mind saying ‘whoops’ definitely makes an impression, you know?”

Though, as the guy looked out towards the ocean in awe, Sam’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you’ve seriously never seen the ocean?!”

“Okay, okay-okay-okay,” Jogging over, Sam waved for the guy to follow him, “Look, I hear ya, you’ve got stuff to do, but just wait a second!” Leading over to a rockier part of the beach, Sam hopped up on one of the wide, flat rocks and crouched down, pointing to some tide pools with an excited grin. “I seriously gotta brush up on marine life if I’d wanna show you everything snorkeling can get, but I am a pro at tide pools, man--check it!! Can’t get the full sea experience without the sea life.”

“Oh yeah?” Demyx bit his lower lip, debating with himself. He was supposed to be watching 780 gold… ah, fuck it, nothing was going to happen if he just looked around for a bit. 

Hurrying over, Demyx squatted next to the guy he had accidentally brain-invaded for a bit, whistling low and staring in excitement as the guy started pointing out neat little marine life to him. “I’ve always always loved this sort of imagery, but it’s always been something I’ve only known as, like, a vague concept that I’ve heard about. Fantasy stuff, you know? It’s wild seeing something more accurate.”

“Oh! Um, I’m Demyx, by the way,” Demyx said, looking sheepish, “Sorry, I should have said that from the beginning. And sorry again for just dropping in. This won’t happen again, swear it!”

“Well, I’m glad to be your very own cicerone into fantasy, then,” Sam laughed brightly, before grinning sunnily at Demyx. “It’s awesome, right? I’ve always lived within walking distance of one beach or another, but it never gets old. We don’t do it a ton right now since winter breezes off the waves can be brutal, but when the weather’s better I take my brother out here every chance we get. It’s cool sharing it with someone new too.”

Extending a hand, Sam greeted, “Sam, no worries, Demyx. Accidents happen, I get it. Though, uh…” It was Sam’s turn to look a little sheepish. “I don’t really get a chance to ask for much feedback, though people usually seem pretty positive about it. You like the music?”

Demyx blinked at the hand, but able to pick up a hint, he reached over to grab it. Shaking it back with the stiffness of someone who had literally never given a handshake before. 

“The music? Hell yeah, I love the music! Actually, if you remember, I actually joined in a few days ago. It was actually the first time I had ever heard it!” Demyx grinned, “I was the sitar. Do you play most of that yourself? I mean, I have to assume you’re having some constructs accompany some of the instruments, but you scream ‘musician in practice’ to me.”

Sam’s eyes bugged. “THAT WAS YOU?!?!?”

The sunny beach day somehow grew even more sunny and inviting, happiness radiating from Sam like a terrestrial sun himself as his grin grew in awe and excitement. “BRO!!! I-I mean, yeah, I have some constructs helping out when I want a bigger ensemble, though sometimes I just remember jam sessions with my friends? But I’m usually playing too, and - dude that was a sitar?! I’ve only heard one once, b-besides you, I mean, dude you rock!!”

Backing up a little, Sam clapped his hands over his head and then bowed his head, pleading, “Please jam sesh with me sometime!!”

Oh!!! This person was really excited!!!! 

…this was really overwhelming and new!!!! No one was ever excited for Demyx! Demyx was only ever excited for Demyx!!! Uuuuuuh!!!!??

“Um, no, you rock!! Your music thing is awesome, I love the sounds! Um… yeah, I’d love to jam sesh! I jam sesh! I sesh all the time!” Demyx grinned, before starting to sweat, “No, that’s a lie, I haven’t played with other people in a long time, but!! I’m super down to sesh with you!”

“And, uh, you’ve never heard of a sitar? I mean, hold on, let me…” Demyx focused, and some of the water sprang up from the ocean, forming into a sitar as it approached him, “Looks like this! You’re sure you’ve never seen one?”

“Alright!” Sam threw an excited fist in the air. Yeah, he played with Sebastian and Abigail a lot, but good music was about collaboration. And when Demyx had joined in on the broadcast before, Sam hadn’t been able to believe it. The way they had been able to play together had felt…just…magical. He guessed that since they couldn’t really hear their actual instruments, all that was left was the way they felt about music, and that…was something really special to share with another musician. 

Relaxing from his pleading pose, Sam sat more normally on the rock, watching impressed as Demyx formed a sitar out of water. “Whoa, super cool! Though, yeah, I’m sure,” he hummed, peering at the instrument. “The one time I heard it, it was this demo record from a merchant ship from up north, selling all sorts of crazy foreign stuff. I still kinda regret not buying it, but, yanno how money is.”

Inspired by Demyx’s showmanship, Sam popped up, readying himself before he dramatically jumped up, miming an epic power chord before his guitar (that he was currently playing in real life) popped into his hands. Letting out a delighted little laugh, he sat back down, showing his baby off. “Far as I know, guitars are pretty common all over the place, but they’re still very cool.”

A little more sheepish, he said, “As you heard last time, I do play more instruments, but guitar is usually my tried and true. Aaaaand I think I’m gonna confuse my brain waaay too much if I try to play something different than what I’m actually playing.”

“Hah! That was awesome!” Demyx said, eyes dazzled. 

Settling next to Sam, Demyx started to strum at his sitar… before he sighed, “Yeah, I do know how money is. I’m sorry, man, I can’t stay, my fam back at home is kinda counting on me to be responsible right now. Nothing’s going to happen, but I should still go back.”

“But, uh… we could try again in the future?” Demyx grinned, “If you’re down for it?”

“Know how that is,” Sam said kindly, an, indeed, knowing look in his eyes. “Good on ya for being good to them and, uh, sorry for distracting you. Kind of a habit with me.” He laughed lightly. 

With a wink, Sam nodded. “For sure, man! Usually if I’m broadcasting, I have time. Or, like,” he rolled his eyes, “Wouldn’t mind if you popped in while I’m at work, though I’d rather not interrupt with running into walls or anything. But! For the most part, any time, Demyx! I’ll catch ya later!”

Demyx grinned, giving him a little wave, then feeling embarrassed about the wave, giving him a thumbs up, and then feeling self conscious about that–

Demyx opened his eyes, letting out a little huffing breath. Woah…

….woah! 

He stared at the gold–of course it was all still there, nothing had happened–as he drew his knees into his chest. Feeling warm and light and a little freaked out still.

…he had made a friend?

He had made a friend! 

Woah! 

-

Sam did like playing a decent set when he was broadcasting, so he kept practicing for a little while…

AAaaah but who was he kidding?! It was just luck that Monday nights weren’t exactly bursting with nightlife, otherwise Sam would’ve gotten more than a little chewing out from Lewis from running into people on his board again. But as he zoomed through town, heading north--hoping to catch Sebastian smoking out by the lake and Abigail coming back from guild duties--Sam couldn’t keep the bright grin off his face. 

As luck would have it, he did see a nefarious, shadowy figure by the edge of the lake, and Sam quickly tried to slow down. 

…uh, tried. 

“SEBA--ah!”

Sam ate shit, tumbling over himself, as his board slowly rolled towards the figure.

Sebastian took a breath of his cigarette, staring down at Sam for one beat, two… “Dude, you’re going to kill someone on that thing someday.” He brought up his leg to stop the skateboard from rolling over the edge of the pier, lightly kicking it back to roll against Sam’s head. 

“I’d ask why you don’t think he’s going to end up killing himself on that thing, but you’re right. He’s got a hard head. He’ll outlive us all.” Abigail snickered, squatting down to give Sam a pat on the back, before walking past him, going to sit at the end of the pier with Sebastian. “Seb, you know those things are going to kill you.”

“You get to make fun of my cigs if, at this exact moment, you are not sucking on a gem,” Sebastian said. 

Abigail shrugged, sticking out her tongue, where she showed off she was sucking on a small ruby. 

“Nah, I’m great at avoiding people! You think I’d really go all in with Vince, Jas, and Leo running around? Shane’s cool, but I think he’d actually murder me if I ever hurt Jas.” And while he and Vincent roughoused around, as brothers did, Sam would never do anything to actually put his little brother in real danger. Despite the complaints, the most damage Sam’s board ever did to anyone was to himself.

Which was totally fine, since he always did just walk it off.

Getting up and setting his board by a tree before joining his friends, Sam scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve all got our vices. We can say I told you so when I get a concussion, Sebastian gets lung cancer, and…man, I dunno, your stomach gets impacted or something? I don’t even know how you swallow that stuff, dude.”

Shaking his head a little, Sam flicked his hands to the side, brushing that matter off. “Okay, but! You guys know that broadcasting thing I do, and how someone joined in the other week?” Sam grinned wide, barely able to contain his excitement once more. “I actually met him today!”

“I’m betting I choke on one someday,” Abigail said, chewing her ruby lightly between her back teeth, “Get overzealous. Try for a diamond too big for me. Die chasing the sun.”

Though, their tongue in cheek morbid discussion came to a stop, as Sam excitedly shared his recent encounter. Sebastian and Abigail listening in with enthusiastic support, and only the occasional jab, as Sam explained the guy he had met…

“Can that happen? You just just accidentally fall into each other's heads?” Abby asked, raising an eyebrow. “That sounds like a mindfield for misunderstandings.”

“Boo,” Sam snorted at the pun, before shrugging a little. “I mean, I kinda knew that hypothetically? When I was first figuring out all this stuff, the other Empaths that taught me mentioned it, like stronger Empaths accidentally affecting stuff they don’t mean to. But I guess I had a practical example today.”

Sam smiled lightly. “Demyx seemed super embarrassed about it, so while misunderstandings can happen, I dunno! This just seemed nice.” Fiddling with his ponytail a little, Sam laughed softly. “Kinda feel bad for holding him up, it sounded like he was busy. But if someone says they’ve never seen the ocean, what am I supposed to do?! Not show it off?”

“Man, there are people out there who really haven’t seen the ocean?” Abigail said, looking out at the lake water, pulling off her boots and socks to dip her feet into the cool water, “Ooph…it’s hard to imagine. I don’t think you can live anywhere on Novis without at least being an hour from the ocean. You’d think people would go out of their way for it.”

“Some people probably feel the same way about snow.” Sebastian pointed out, “Remember when we all freaked out as kids because there was frost on the grass one morning? And we tried to gather enough frost to make one snowball?”

“We got close! I mean, it melted in our hands before we could pack it into a snowball, but I think we got enough that, theoretically, it would have made a handful!” Abigail snorted.

“Sitar…” Sebastian took a deep breath from his cig, holding it in his mouth, “Sitar… isn’t that a Luminary instrument?”

“Oooooh, those freaks? That’s fun. Sex-worshipping wild folk… oh, what time is it? Don’t want to miss the 6 o’clock shot.” She said, pulling out her flask.

Sam nodded a little, looking out at the lake peacefully. “He said he’s always been drawn to ocean imagery, as, like, fantasy. I don’t get it-get it, but I sorta get it, you know? Feels like a bummer if he likes this stuff but just never had the opportunity to be around it. Sometimes you just don’t have a choice, I guess.” 

Such as longing for city life, but living in a tiny town, he supposed, even if that felt like a smaller example. But that’s what made Empathy super cool, in Sam’s opinion. Even if Demyx couldn’t go see the ocean wherever he was, at least Sam could share Partinique’s. And all his favorite bits, without, like, accidentally stepping on a fish carcass, or getting stung by a sea jelly. 

Sam laughed, reminiscing about one of the closest times they’d ever gotten to snow--at least on the archipelago--before blinking. Making a confused noise before looking wide at the sky. “...ooooh, you know? I even knew it was from somewhere up north. Cool! I’ll ask Demyx if he’s from there next time!” 

Because, considering Sam owned a Dicean Melodeon, having an instrument from a certain place didn’t necessarily mean you were from there. 

“Oh shit,” Sam muttered, patting around for what pocket he might’ve put his watch into. Did that kind of defeat the convenience of a watch? Maybe, but it still worked out if Sam remembered to bring it with him at all. Finding it in his pants, Sam squinted at the numbers, before raising an eyebrow. “...uh, it’s 11?”

“At night or in the morning?” Sebastian smirked, “Because if it's in the morning, shouldn’t you be at work?”

“And if it’s at night, someone needs to let the sun know,” Abigail agreed, nodding towards the sun, which while leaning towards the edge of the sky, hadn’t quite started to set yet.

“Ugh,” Sam playfully groaned, nudging his friends. “Shut uuuuup, I’ll remember to wind it. And don’t talk about work when it’s hypothetically prayer time, that’s, like, super sacreligious or something.” He squinted a little. “...unless your work is holy? I dunno, that’s a better question for your mom, Abby.”

“Oh! That reminds me--find anything cool in the mines today?”

“Oh, yes! Hold on, hold on, check this out,” Abigail grinned, licking her lips as she opened her pack, before pulling out a long line of thread, each part of it hoisting just… truly ugly fish. The sort of fish that you looked at and went, well, maybe some things just should stay in the depths of the ocean. “Should make a pretty tasty meal, I’d say!”

“I’m not eating that.” Sebastian said, squinting, “It has teeth. Fish shouldn’t have teeth.”

“Won’t eat my fish, won’t eat my rubies. You’re impossible to please, Seb. Sam? Want some gross teeth fish?” Abigail asked, showing him the fish.

“Whoa…” Sam marveled, looking at the…fiiiiiish? In astonishment. Sometimes he wasn’t really sure if he believed Abigail’s stories of glowing or boiling lakes in the mines, but then she brought up stuff like this and, welp? Who was he to argue with the divine?

“Uhh…hey, you try it first, and I’ll be second, alright?” he snorted, before kicking Sebastian’s leg lightly. “And you’ve totally eaten fish with teeth before, dude. Gus’s fried pufferfish rules. As does my mom’s fish casserole, and I don’t even know what the heck she puts in there.”

Regarding the fish again, Sam tilted his head. “You think this thing already has a name? I think…congeelfish suits it.”

“I don’t know its name… but yeah, Congeelfish! That sounds good.” Abigail grinned, snickering as she drooled a little, “Mmm… cook this with some sapphires? I’ll have some tasty soupy saphires to suck on for like a week. Heeeheeheheheee~” 

As Abigail giggled menacingly to herself, Sebastian looked to Sam, “Hey, did Bog visit you today?”

Er, maybe he’d volunteered too soon… But, eh. Couldn’t hurt to try a little. 

Perking, Sam nodded with a small smile. “Oh, yeah! They did. Not for long, you know how they’re always running around, but they caught me on my way back from work and gave me a cactus fruit. You know, at this point I think they just have a bunch in a chest to give out since they know I dig ‘em so much,” Sam laughed. 

Though, his mirth did fade slightly into contemplation. “They’ve been pretty worried about those detective guys in town. I kinda get it, they did show up on Bog’s farm so that’s kinda like responsibility stuff, right? And those two are kindaaaaa…” Sam trailed off, scratching his cheek lightly. “...weird?”

“Yep, they’re definitely hoarding those things… you know,” Sebastian smirked, “For alllll the people in town who are obsessed with them.”

Abigail snickered along with Sebastian, though she hummed a bit at the mention of the, uh… ‘detectives’? “I’ve seen one of them on the beach, actually. He was wearing a fishnet for a shirt. Like, not one of those ones designed to look like a fishnet, but I think he literally found a discarded fishnet and decided to put it on as a robe. And I’m almost one hundred percent sure he stole a strawhat from Pam. I swear I’ve seen it before on her. Though, it had a hole in it, so maybe she tossed it?”

“I’ve heard they’re basically stuck here, so I guess they’re our new neighbors.” Sebastian sighed. “Great. Couldn’t have been cool guys who washed up from the city, nope. Instead it’s two old farts. One who’s clearly, you know…” Sebastion tapped at his temple, “A little off. I saw him talking to a mailbox this morning. He pet it.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Like you two aren’t cheering every time they bring over an amethyst or a frozen tear. I think it’s nice! You don’t see a lot of people branching out in devotion like that.”

And, uh…it was something that Bog seemed to take pretty seriously. Not only had they managed to learn the favorite things of pretty much everyone on the archipelago, but they regularly gave those things out. It had really been something else, watching Bog literally sprint across town to give Maru a birthday present. It was nice! And Sam certainly wasn’t complaining about getting little gifts every week. 

Though, Sam’s expression grew a little…uncomfortable, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap and biting at his lip ring. Just humming a little to acknowledge his friends.

Abigail squinted at Sam…  before leaning against his shoulder and poking his side. “You know something we don’t?” Poke, poke, “Seb, get on his other side.”

“Eh? What? Oh, sure,” Sebastian said, scooting around Sam’s other side, and while he had no idea why Abigail was doing it, leaned in on Sam’s side, poking him as well. Poke. Poke poke. 

“Nnngh.” Sam crumpled under his friends’ attacks. “O-okay! I just… Look, it’s not his fault!”

No one asked to be around an Empath. Sometimes it just…wasn’t fair to be around someone that could know exactly how you were feeling. 

“I kinda get a massive headache around the taller guy,” Sam admitted, still looking uncomfortable as he admitted it. “It’s…weird. It’s kind of like reading a bunch of people at once, like, not in-depth, but more than if I was just in a crowd of people, but that is kinda what it feels like? And then, like….”

Sam drew in a breath, holding his hands out and waving them a little, before letting all the air out and deflating with it. “I don’t know. I can’t even start to describe it.”

“A bunch of people at once?” Abigail pouted, rolling her ruby over her tongue a bit, fidgeting with it before shoving it back in her cheek, “Are we sure he’s human?”

“Way I hear it, we’d know as much as he does about that. Guy’s got full brain amnesia. I know because he won’t shut up about it. He tells everyone he meets. Like, seriously, guy, get a personality, he’s like one of those guys who if once he gets a bad back, that’s who he is, the bad back guy.” Sebastian scoffed.

“I remember one summer where you would not shut up about a broken thumb,” Abigail said. 

“You use your thumbs for everything! Of course it would come up!” Sebastian insisted.

“And yet~” Sam sighed dramatically, “When I broke my arm, it was nothing but ‘stop whining, Sam’s for like two months. I think that if you literally can’t remember anything, it’d come up a lot. Like, ‘everything’ encompasses everything, right?”

Looking over at Sebastian for a moment, Sam nudged his shoulder. “...everything okay, man? You know I’ll always have your back in the fight against the world but…you seem a little more stressed out today?”

“Eh, I’m just a little bummed out,” Sebastian shrugged, sighing as he adjusted his hoody around his shoulder, tapping his fingers against the wood a bit, “...you guys know that fifty copper I managed to save up the last few months? The latest ‘start’ of my moving funds?”

“Yeah?” Abigail frowned, “Don’t tell me…”

“No idea what happened. But it looks like I might have spent it all New Years… on new records,” Sebastian grumbled, looking away with an embarrassed flush.

“Ahhh, Seb,” Abigail sighed, “I thought you were going to hide your jar this time somewhere your divine center can’t find it?”

“Well, apparently my divine center still had a clear enough memory to find it in the shed,” Sebastian huffed, “The bastard.”

“Aw man!” Sam condoled, flopping back on the pier before reaching up to pat Sebastian’s back. It was…an on-going dilemma. Sure, practically everyone had stories of things their divine centers did that they didn’t necessarily appreciate otherwise, but Sebastian’s was, uh…well, Sam would call it ‘particularly devout’. The epitome of indulgences of pleasure, at the cost of what Sebastian saved for more practical things. 

Lifting himself onto his elbows, he gave Sebastian a sheepish look. “...are they at least good records? Maybe they’ll be inspiration for something that’ll get you to a major cash flow!”

“They’re great! Of course they’re great, man! That’s why that bastard spent all my money on them!” Sebastian whined, waving back and forth for a moment before collapsing onto Sam’s lap, “I’m never activating my divine core again!”

“You always say that,” Abigail huffed, reaching over to pat his head, “But hey our cores always have some wisdom to offer. Sam’s right, maybe that music will inspire something better…but also, try putting your jar up the top of a tree or something next time.”

“Oh!” Abigail said, looking at the sun again, “That reminds me. Six o’clock shot!”

She opened up her flask, taking a long sip. And she held the liquid in her mouth, bowing her head and grasping her hands together over her head, thinking hard to herself ‘let the day end calm and grateful, knowing Iony will party with us soon.

“Anyone want some?” she asked, swallowing the burning liquid down.

“Yeah, sure,” Sebastian grumbled, reaching up for it.

Sam chuckled softly, smiling fondly at his friend and rubbing Sebastian’s arm as he collapsed in his lap. “Madness, I’ll pay a tithe to have a listen. Morris hasn’t said anything about pay-cuts, so I’ve got a little coin to contribute towards the cause.”

Sebastian always did say that. Then around came a holiday, or just some Friday the three of them felt more like drinking than having Sebastian kick their asses at pool, and woop there it is, divine cores activated. At least Sebastian’s didn’t tend to spend that much money if the three of them were together. 

Giving a little hum as Abigail remembered the time of prayer, he cleared his throat, accompanying any internal prayer Abby was giving with a sung, “We’ll be the envy of the stars above.” 

Sam rarely went to the community service with his mom anymore, but he did still like a lot of the hymns. There was something playful and uplifting, remembering the only difference between them and stardust, a person and the universe, were the connections they formed. The stars glittering with eternal (at least compared to a human life) radiance, and yet still envious of the closeness people could achieve. 

Taking the shot after Sebastian, Sam…well, didn’t dislodge him, so just struggled staying up in a crunch, holding his hands above his head.

‘...please gift onto us Dad’s safe return, so that our love may entwine again.’

…thunk.

“Uuugh,” Sam groaned. “Maybe I should take up Alex’s offers to work out more often. That sucked.”

“Worked out fine for me,” Sebastian said, swallowing his own sip, before handing the flask back to Abigail. 

The three watched the lake for a bit. Abigail offered Sebastian and Sam some extra rubies to chew on: they both declined. Sebastian talked about moving out to the city, and making his own demo record, and maybe writing the musical he had been talking about since high school. 

Sam gushed about getting to have a mind jam session with a new musician, asking Abigail and Sebastian if it was weird to have Bog’s voice as one of his mental ‘instruments’, especially if he was playing with another person, like, that’s weird, right? And he asked the others if they wanted to go snorkeling soon, like a total madman, asking in the middle of winter. 

And the ASS Trio just…enjoyed each other’s company, until Sam remembered he’d promised to play board games with Vincent that night, and he started jogging back through town…until coming right back, and riding his skateboard home.

-

In a lot of ways nothing had really changed, Ienzo knew, but the perception of how much more dangerous the tavern had gotten was monumental. They had a scary amount of money just sitting in a crate, and now, well…

Ienzo had tried to be very practical with the funding he’d need for his new experiments. In truth, he didn’t actually need many supplies--maybe some sort of titration set would be helpful for figuring out the exact chemical compounds of marijuana himself, to see if there could even be a medical answer (though just weed already solved that, he supposed), but there was already that sort of research out there. So, really, all he needed was marijuana and volunteers, the latter of which he already had.

And after an enlightening afternoon with Maya learning how to grind and roll blunts, he had the former. Which was scary, because now they had an absurd amount of money and extremely illegal drugs in their home. 

But, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and a lot of people had a lot to gain, so…

Ienzo took a deep breath, pepping himself up as Xiomara and Rantarou were set to arrive for their session. They both had said and demonstrated that they’d be willing to do anything to get rid of conditioning, but usually those things were just…strange and uncomfortable. Not highly illegal with a massive stigma and would once again leave them at the mercy of their uneasy trust…

Well, he had to ask, at least.

As the volunteers showed up, Ienzo gave them a small smile and a greeting bow, leading them into the tavern to the lab. “Good morning, Rantarou, Xiomara. We’ll discuss it in depth in a moment, but there’s been a major breakthrough in my research. I’d still like to hear about your experiences with the constructs so far, but hopefully this method will lead to less nebulous results.”

Glancing back at them, he asked, “How have your days been?

Xiomara had quirked an eyebrow in mild curiosity--it wasn’t often Ienzo actually said he had a breakthrough--before squinting at him, as the guy tried to…make small talk? “...fine,” she said after a moment, looking at Ienzo with more attention now.

Rantaro, smiling in that calm, charming in a non-threatening way of his, also said, “Fine,” matching Xiomara… but he couldn’t help from following it up with, “You seem to be in an excellent… mood.”

The unspoken thing being that Ienzo had, in fact, a mood to express. 

“Do I? Well, it is pretty exciting to get such a solid lead, even if parts of it do make me a little trepidacious,” Ienzo mused. “Not the method itself, mind you, but there are associations that make it a bit tricky. But those are things we’ll discuss, I suppose.”

Xiomara squinted even more, sharing a weirded out look with Rantarou. Like…she wasn’t the only one finding this weird, right? And the things laid out in the lab only added to that mood. A small box, a box of matches, a few towels… And? What looked like drinks and snacks?

“What’s the harebrained scheme this time?” she asked, far more cocky than the wariness she actually felt. “I’ll admit, the mystery items have me stumped.”

To Xiomara’s further discomfort, Ienzo…laughed. It wasn’t much of one, just an amused huff, really, but it was undeniably a laugh. And he looked damn near playful as he brought a thoughtful hand to his chin, regarding the items as well. “You know, I would be too. The closest thing I’d guess is a fire massage, but even that doesn’t quite fit.”

“Ah,” Rantaro started to sweat a little, sharing a wary glance at Xiomara that his perpetual charming smile did absolutely nothing to undercut, “I do believe we all discussed this already… I thought the consensus was that outright, physical torture might not… lead to anything. Are we…” Another wary chuckle that did nothing to deflect the clear unease he had, “...of a new mind about it?”

“No?” Ienzo raised an eyebrow, before frowning a bit at them. “...am I really acting that differently? I knew there’d be a change, but you two seem more…alarmed than I was expecting.”

“...well what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Xiomara hissed. 

Rantaro’s left eyebrow flickered slightly, another rush of unease running through him. “Ienzo, how alarmed were you expecting us to be?” Extremely conscious that Ienzo hadn’t clarified that they weren’t doing direct, physical torture yet. 

And, darn it, maybe it was just his compelled people pleasing nature, or maybe he just didn’t want Xiomara to be frightened away so that in the long run he had to deal with this nonsense by himself, but he suddenly smiled tighter and said, “If this is a breakthrough that hasn’t been tested, perhaps I should try it alone first. And if it shows results, Xio can try it next time?”

“Like…somewhat,” Ienzo mumbled before sighing a bit. “Sorry, I’ll be clear. The breakthrough is that apparently the effects of marijuana negate the compulsion of conditioning. It doesn’t get rid of conditioning itself, but it allows people to ignore or resist any actions or behaviors that conditioning would affect. That’s why it’s illegal and has such a massive stigma attached to it.”

“Now, being perpetually high isn’t really conducive for everyday life, so what I’m asking of you two is, if you’re willing, to get high, let me see the resistance effects myself, and then for me to see the actual changes in your minds so that I can develop a way to replicate it psychically.”

While he had moved on in subject, Ienzo couldn’t help crossing his arms and pouting a little, grumbling to himself about, ‘thought this was supposed to help me be better with people, not worse…’

Xiomara’s jaw had dropped a little, looking a little more affronted than wary now until Ienzo explained the tie-in to why weed was illegal. Then…she looked at the items in the room again. Giving Ienzo a more incredulous look. “...you want us to hotbox. And you got us snacks for the munchies?”

“And drinks for dehydration,” Ienzo mumbled.

“Oh!” Rantaro said brightly, “...oh.” He said, that sinking in as he looked down at the supplies, “...ooooooh.”

“...hah,” He said, laughing lightly as he started to recognize the items for what they were, now that he knew. “...it’s funny. My… my mistress once tried to talk me into trying this once. She was a teenager, and while she was an exceptional display of poise for her position… she went through her rebellious phase, like anyone does. But for courage, she wanted me to do this with her.”

Looking around the items, honestly no idea how to even begin using them, Rantaro shrugged a little. “I talked her out of it. Said it was too high a risk, that the smell would be obvious, that it’d ruin her reputation… it’s funny to me that she might not be aware if this really is a way to defer conditionings effects.” Rantaro frowned, “I wonder what might have happened that day if I had gone along with it.”

Then, smiling at Ienzo, he said, “Also, your consideration is greatly appreciated. I have heard that this stuff starves you in an instant, that it negates days worth of food. Is that true? I always thought that one seemed maybe a little far fetched. Biology doesn’t really work that way, I think.” Rantaro laughed lightly, shrugging, “For as much as I know.”

Ienzo nodded slightly, though his expression wasn’t without a dull sympathy for the position Rantarou had been in. “That’s the point about this which made me the most uneasy. Weed itself doesn’t pose, well, basically any risk for the way I’m asking to use it…but the social risk is more than what I’ve asked of either of you so far, even talking to you about my abilities and the entire purpose of dismantling conditioning. We’re lucky that guards don’t come by here, but asking you to take the risk of smelling like weed, or someone recognizing your high if you’re not sobered up before you leave? That’s…significant.”

Glumly, Ienzo shrugged. “Even with hindsight, to me that sounds like the intelligent call, to caution your mistress against trying it. While it might’ve armed you with important knowledge…I’m making an assumption that she isn’t just barely more than a teenager now, so you would’ve still been under contract. I wouldn’t call it much of a missed opportunity.”

“And you’d be correct--weed doesn’t actually do anything to the food already in your system. A full stomach stays as such,” Ienzo nodded, “While the information wasn’t easy to find, what I have found is that the receptors in your hypothalamus that normally send signals which we interpret as being full or having an appetite are affected by similar cannabinoids that set the signal to ‘being hungry’. It’s the perception of hunger, no actual starvation.”

Xiomara regarded everything with a small sigh and the disgruntled look she regularly got when Ienzo started talking science at them, before she shook her head a little. “...can we really stay until we’re sober and the smell goes away? Like, you’re not giving us a curfew?”

Ienzo shook his head. “Correct. I won’t ask either of you to put yourselves in that kind of danger.”

“Oh, is that why you asked us to arrive so early?” Rantaro realized, “So that we wouldn’t have to spend the–”

“Hey, everything still cool in there!?” A voice called through the door, Demyx. Knocking against it as he called, “You didn’t forget how to light it, right man?”

Rantaro glanced at Xiomara uneasily. The other people at the tavern almost never interrupted their sessions with Ienzo, but this was the second time they had seen–or, heard–Demyx now. Rantaro got the sense the man wished he was joining in, and was giving Ienzo a thousand chances to ‘think’ to invite him. 

Rantaro didn’t know if he trusted the other people in the tavern. He mostly trusted Ienzo out of necessity. It felt alarming, to have someone sniffing around the doors… literally.

Ienzo sighed, looking up briefly. (Even that level of mundane irritation was unsettling to see on him, and with the knock at the door, Xiomara tensed a bit.)

“Excuse me for a moment.” He nodded to Rantarou and Xiomara, before going to the door, poking his head out. 

Keeping his voice low, Ienzo gave Demyx an unamused look. “Do I have to devote arts and crafts time to make a proper ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door? Demyx, we got these supplies for science, not recreation.”

Demyx grinned, leaning against the door wall as he whispered back, “I’m scientific. I’m the most scientific! Come on, why all the secrecy? They don’t want a little music to go with their brainwashing liberation? It’s not like I don’t see them come and go,” Demyx pouted, trying to peek over Ienzo’s head, trying to catch the participants eyes in hopes maybe they would vouch for him.

Rantaro avoided Demyx’s gaze, ducking his head away. This whole venture was already nerve wracking. And, well…knowing they were the conditioners, even with no memory of them, still made them… intimidating to be around. Sometimes.

Xiomara puffed herself up, fists at her sides. Glaring fiercely at Demyx, just daring him to come closer. 

“Demyx…” Ienzo sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Your desire to create a fun atmosphere is appreciated, however that’s not the ‘vibe’ here. While I don’t want this to be unpleasant, being in a household full of strangers that were once hostile is unnerving normally, and even more without one’s full faculties. Out of consideration, I want to offer as much security as I can.”

Ienzo gave his friend a dry look. “So that means not inviting in someone they barely know.”

Demyx pouted, realizing literally none of them were going to invite him in, as he tried one last attempt tp insist, “Are you sure? It doesn’t have to be a party atmosphere, I can play something soothing and low–ow!”

“Are you interfering in my son's experiments?” Even snarled, yanking Demyx back by his ear as he glared at him, ignoring the way Demyx thrashed as he held firm, “Stupid boy, you realize how delicate this is on the best of days? You bow to this door and apologize to anyone behind it for daring to disturb them! And then you go to every other door and do the same!”

“Gah! Calm down! I was just leaving, stop pulling my ear!” Demyx cried, “Mercy! Mercy!!” 

Rantaro blinked at the ruckus outside, before raising an eyebrow when he heard someone collapse, shouting, “MY APOLOGIES FOR DISTURBING YOU, DOOR!” before scrambling off. 

Outside, Even scoffed as he watched Demyx run off to go apologize to the next door, then the next, and rolling his eyes, Even looked back to his son, “I’ll remind everyone that this room is to remain undisturbed unless asked. I do hope your latest experiment goes well. If the theory is correct, it could lead to big things for all conditioned.” 

Ienzo was already mid-facepalm, so he had to lower his hand before giving Even a grateful look. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll talk to Demyx later. And hopefully I’ll have fruitful news to give everyone soon.” With a small bow, he closed the door to turn back to his volunteers…only to pause at the incredulous look on Xiomara’s face. He blinked, before trying, “Sorry about that. He just likes hanging out with people.”

“So, I don’t want to rush you into a decision, but do you think you have an idea of whether you want to go through with this experiment or not?” he asked them both.

“That’s your dad?” Xiomara blurted, still looking at Ienzo bewilderedly.

Rantaro, in turn, was already trying to rationalize it, as he suddenly fretted a bit, “Oh, no… were you born in the factories? I don’t know why that’s never occurred to me, but that seems… particularly cruel.”

Ienzo started slightly, looking at them wide-eyed. Unsure what to do about the fretting. “I-I…uh, no. I was an orphan, I was sent to the factory for my first round of conditioning when they realized I was an Empath. Even is not my biological father, he raised me after we met.” With a slight wince, Ienzo anxiously glanced to the door. “As…far as I know, at least from the Chonis factory, no one was ever born straight into imprisonment.”

Xiomara crossed her arms and bounced her heel lightly, a tense, discomforted expression on her face. “...you know? It makes sense with everything, but I never thought about you guys ‘growing up’ there. Sure, tons of kids went through the factory, but…” A deeper scowl cut across her face as she looked away from Ienzo. “...at least we could leave.”

Ienzo shifted, looking unsure. “...it’s not about the race to the bottom, of who had it worse. We’re all legally free now, and soon I hope to ensure you are mentally as well.”

“Perhaps not, but Xio is right,” Rantaro frowned, “It didn’t occur to me that some people never left the factories. I’ll admit, I imagined all this time you had been brought in as adults. Being raised at the factory, unable to leave… I’m sorry that happened to you.”

And maybe it was something about knowing Ienzo a little better, or maybe having watched him defend them, but Rantaro took a deep breath… before saying cheerfully, “I say we try your experiment. Can I assume you won’t be getting high with us? Or do you think you’d be able to mark the results getting high with us?”

“...thank you,” Ienzo softly said, unsure how to really respond to ‘sorry your life sucked more than we thought’. But he did appreciate the sympathy and the outreach of feelings. 

Though it was much easier to move onto business. Smirking slightly, Ienzo half-shrugged. “I think it’d be pretty remarkable if I could have the presence of mind to log what I need to while high, so, correct, I’ll be staying sober. Due to second-hand highs, though, my plan was to just wait outside the door while you two get stoned, if that’s alright?”

Xiomara sighed, running a hand through her short hair as she looked at everything again. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s not like we’re trapped in here, even if we jam the door crack. …how’re we doing this?”

With a little nod, Ienzo went over to the small box and pulled out two neatly rolled blunts, offering them to Xiomara and Rantarou. “Have either of you smoked before?”

“Um,” Rantaro gave a small, amused chuckle, reaching over to take his blunt, “I mean, I hope it’s not firework science. You just sort of… swallow the smoke?”

Rantaro blushed, it sounding wrong the second he said it aloud. He had never smoked anything before! Did you swallow the smoke!? Was that what you did or was it as silly as it sounded aloud?? Dammit, teenage Kaede had probably known!

Xiomara smirked a little--distracting herself from the fact she was picking up a fucking weed cig-- and companionably clapped a hand on Rantarou’s shoulder. “Ooh, fancy boy’s first cigarette? We’ll get you there, ‘Tarou. Don’t be alarmed when you feel like you’re hacking up a lung.”

Ienzo shrugged passively. “You inhale when the blunt’s at your lips, and you can hold the smoke in your mouth for a moment if you like, but you do breathe it out. I’ve only done it once, so I’ll leave you in Xiomara’s care for more advice than that.”

Seeing them get situated, Xiomara getting a match from the box and striking it, Ienzo gave his volunteers a nod and quietly exited the room. Settling on the wall just outside it, as promised. 

Rantaro laughed sheepishly, somewhat buckling under Xio’s firm shoulder tap. No one had ever suggested being someone’s personal house keeper required you to be particularly strong. 

He and Xio settled in, the act of lighting the blunts and figuring out where they wanted to sit for the long haul being a little awkward and clumsy. Rantaro coughed through the first few puffs, but after a moment they settled, staring at each other a little awkwardly as little by little smoke filled the room.

“...I wonder how long this is actually going to take us,” Rantaro said, scratching at his arm a little, “We’ve never been left alone this long together. It’s not, admittedly, how I was hoping the first time we’d just ‘hang out’ would go, but I have been wanting to do this for some time. It’d be nice to get to know you better, Xio.”

The taste and smell of skunk was, uhhh…different. In that it reeked, even compared to nicotine cigarettes, and was far and away from hookah or herb pipes, and came with the lingering paranoia that this was the sort of thing that got you sent to prison forever. But slowly, Xiomara forced herself to relax, guiding Rantarou through smoking as the haze between them thickened. 

“Think it’s supposed to be quick, but most of what I know is rumors through rumors for people I wouldn’t trust even on a holy day,” Xiomara shrugged, before scoffing lightly, giving Rantarou a skeptical but amused look. “You keep shooting your shot, pretty boy. Guess this isn’t the worst first time to hang out either though. Illicit drugs, food and drink at the ready, a prostitute’s here, sure, the scenery could leave something to be desired, but this is a peak Friday night to some folks.”

Her next look was even more amused. “I’d think that’s still the same for the rich.”

“Shooting my…oh, no!” Rantaro laughed sheepishly, putting up his hands as he shook his head, “No, sorry to give the wrong impression, but I’m not interested in that. I actually don’t… well, I’ve never found myself particularly interested in… well.”

Rantaro looked away uncomfortably, like he wasn’t sure what he was trying to explain… and his face being turned away already only covered some of the way his face suddenly stiffened. A small frown as he stared at the far wall, debating with himself. Calculating…

…and he looked back at Xiomara relaxed, that same sheepish, pleasing smile on his face as he laughed awkwardly, “Geez, am I that obvious? I did try to go out of my way to not dress very flashy,” he said, ears glinting with rings.

Xiomara snickered lowly, taking a puff from her blunt. “Teasing, ‘Tarou. After your offer before, I think I have you pegged as soooomething of a gentleman, at least, and I know my limits enough to get a scream out if weed smudges that part out of you.”

…though, it looked like it might not be doing anything so far. 

Looking at his piercings for a moment, Xiomara shook her head. “Your mistress. You’re custom, so it means she’s loaded, and with her keeping you on, it means that you get some benefit from it, even if it’s not your money. Though with the new policies, I’d hope you’re actually getting a paycheck now.”

She gave him a commiserating look. “...I know you said before you can’t even tell if you’d wanna leave her, and just knowing is worth all this to you. I don’t wanna add more fuel to the shit fire, but financial security’s a big reason to stay too, as if you didn’t need more shit to untangle.”

Rantaro laughed lightly, bringing up his blunt to delay answering for a moment. Collecting himself, really. 

“I am getting paid now, yes… sort of,” Rantaro said, looking down at his knees, a little ashamed to take on the ‘sort of’ at the end, “I’m… it’s being called an ‘allowance’. Which is an honor, really, in comparison to before. My…” uncertainty flashed through Rantaro’s face. Not sure what to call…well, the Momota’s, “...my household uses ‘allowances’ as a way to sustain the livelihoods of their family members. So that even without work themselves, they’ll never be adrift, never entirely dependent on their spouses, never trapped. It’s an honor, to be given an allowance, like I’m…”

Rantaro looked away uncomfortably, “...family.”

There was a heavy pause, the smoke filling more of the room… before Rantaro laughed a little. This laugh sounding a little different, as he admitted, “I’m embarrassed to tell other indenturedes that. Everyone knows I should have a paycheck. Giving me an ‘allowance’ traps me in a different way. I’m not employed. I just still live there. I don’t really know what’s going on, anymore. My role has been erased, and now I’m just there.”

Xiomara nodded as Rantarou explained his situation, something different from, well, pretty much all the other ex-Indentureds she’d talked to since the decree went out, but still understandable. The elite always played by different rules, it made sense that that’d apply to their ex-Indentureds too. 

“I mean, that’s not your fault, and I think most people would sooner call you stupid for walking away from money like that than anything else,” Xiomara reasoned, before scowling lightly at the air. “What else are you even supposed to do? You didn’t have a job that was only yours because of the free labor and mind control perks. You had a life that you were molded into. You could get a housekeeping gig somewhere else, sure, but that’s only half the ‘job skills’ you got,” Xiomara said derisively, rolling her eyes at the term. 

“S’bullshit, man,” she muttered, tapping the end of her blunt into an ashtray, looking away.

“...it is kind of bullshit,” Rantaro muttered, taking another long, deep breath… before coughing and giggling at the same time, looking a little bewildered as he asked, “I thought this was meant to relax you? I don’t feel relaxed,” Rantaro giggled, “I feel… is it meant to vibrate you? I feel like I’m vibrating. In my skin. Slowly.”

Rantaro looked at his hands, before sighing, shaking his head, “Maybe not, maybe I always feel like this. I’m probably fine, actually. I don’t feel relaxed, I feel really nervous,” Rantaro giggled, before shaking his head, “No, I’m fine, actually…oh no, no, I’m fine.”

Rantaro took a deep breath, before putting the blunt down and reaching for some water. Trying to reassure himself that he didn’t actually feel he was vibrating, and he was in fact fine, and it was probably because he was expecting something to happen soon that anything happened at all. He was fine. He was probably still entirely sober, even.

Taking a long drink of water, Rantaro asked, “I know how to cook. I know how to make the bed, and sweep. I know how to drag shrieking, frightened boys to underground prison rooms… it was a very nice room, nothing happened to him in there,” Rantaro muttered, looking briefly defensive, before giggling, “But that’s not the sort of thing I want to do for a living! I mean, I suppose the cooking and cleaning was alright, but dragging people around because I was ordered, or saying things were okay when they weren’t… that really was most of it! I always had to be so… reassuring.”

Rantaro frowned, a brief look of irritation running through his face… before he gave Xiomara a sad look, “I know it’s not a race to the bottom, as our resident scientist said, but… I don’t envy your position. I’m not sure how well I would have done, had I been given to the brothels. I feel uncomfortable even idly touching people. I don’t want to presume you hate it, but… it’s terrible that it wouldn’t have mattered if you did.”

Xiomara gave Rantarou a long, uneasy look. She did feel kind of…floaty, admittedly. It was honestly pretty mild compared to some of the other stuff she’d done, which just made her even more confident in Ienzo’s declaration that the only reason weed was illegal was because it messed with conditioning. But even if she didn’t know much about weed trips, she knew enough to know that bad trips were a thing, and that sometimes if you had other stuff going on?

“...if you let yourself say it’s not fine, I’ll get Ienzo,” Xiomara promised after a moment. “I assume we’re supposed to feel something weird, but if you start feeling like you’re dying or something, we stop.” It didn’t matter if they were in the middle of an experiment. Hellfire, if this was the curve of what she was getting, Xiomara was fine being the only lab rat for Ienzo to study. But bad trips were scary, and Xiomara wasn’t going to encourage Rantarou to stay in one. 

Though, uh…maybe this was evidence enough. 

Xiomara gave him a wide-eyed look--drag shrieking, frightened boys to underground prison rooms????--before muttering a quiet, “Saints’ graces, dude. Know people say the elites are crazy, but…what?”

Despite the absolute ‘what the fuck’ness of that…it was something Mr. Tight-Lips was saying under the influence, so Xiomara was willing to let it go as she sighed beleagueredly. “The biggest appeal of Indentured brothel whores is that we can’t say no. Sometimes the fact that it doesn’t matter if we hate it is what dirtbags seek out.”

Her gaze went heavy as she looked to the side, sipping on some water. “...I didn’t always hate everything about it. Got fuckin’ good at my job, and if you manage to have an appointment with a good lay, it can be a nice time. But especially at my old brothel, that was a small section on the roulette wheel. But it doesn’t matter if it’s just some weirdo with no rizz, or some shitty douche; I’m there to be touched, and they do. And I can’t even lift a fist to punch their grubby lights out.”

“Ugh,” Rantaro huffed, shaking his head, “I doubt I could have handled it. I mean, I’m sure would have been compelled to, same as anyone else. But it’s hard to imagine.”

“And no, I’m fine,” Rantaro assured Xiomara, smiling charmingly… before that smile waivered. Putting his hands together in front of his lap and gripping them tight, “...how old were you, when you were taken? I know the legal requirement for brothel is you have to be of age to sign that career contract. But I am very aware there are… exceptions. I hope you weren’t one of them.”

Xiomara tsked in irritation, her nose wrinkling. “16. Got into the wrong crowd at school, took on debts I couldn’t repay. Folks were basically out of the picture by that point, so it was all on me. Place that bought me couldn’t afford kids’ contracts, so at least there was that.” Some of her disgust faded, though it was replaced by an uneasy resentment. “...one of the girls I met at my new place, she came from a higher class place. Not temple run, but more associated with them. She said sometimes they bought up contracts for kids about to age out of the orphanages and just had them do cleaning, just so another place wouldn’t get them. Still makes me sick to think about a 13-year-old in a brothel, but it damn is better than the alternative for them being there.”

She gave Rantarou a lazy look. “Am I right guessing you got snapped up at 7?”

Rantaro visibly relaxed, an uneasy but genuine smile on his face, “It shouldn’t have come to that, but I always feel relieved when I hear stories like that. It’s hard to buy into the temples preaching, sometimes, considering everything… not that I should say that,” Rantaro admitted, flinching away, “But it’s true that the temples really do seem to try what they can, at least with the brothels. I was shocked how quickly they moved against the dungeons. It really showed they were just waiting for an opportunity.”

He shouldn’t say Atua was a difficult god to believe in, because of the Momota’s. Not when Kaede was… his…

(...what?)

(What was she?)

“As far as I’m aware? I was an infant.” Rantaro said, looking away somberly for a bit… before giggling, “Who knows who my family was. But yes, I was seven. I remember…”

Rantaro closed his eyes, feeling that vibrating fill his body, “...we were taken to the factory, but all the seven years olds were taken aside. Boys and girls both, while all the others were herded inside, we were taken to this place outside the gate, told to stand in a line and be still and polite and quiet. And after a while, a woman showed up…”

Xiomara gave Rantarou a long, considering look as she blew out some smoke. “...maybe not out there, no, but if you can manage it in yourself, I don’t give a shit. May be hired by ‘em now, but if god’s real? Then one whose chosen land looks like this,” she nodded to the sparse room in the dilapidated tavern they were sitting in, home of people who’d had to grow up in a prison and were left to the elements when they were kicked out, noted as a woman who’d had her body made a product for basically all her adult life, “isn’t one I think is worth all that much.”

That piece said, though, she nodded, at least the very beginning of Rantarou’s story not dissimilar from many she’d heard. 

“...with her two children,” Rantaro said, smiling warily. “An older boy who looked grown to my child eye, in the way fourteen year olds look ancient to those not ten yet, and a little girl. Four. Big pink eyes, excitable, practically bouncing on her toes. And the two kids held off for a bit, while the woman talked to us a bit. I can’t remember what about, not for the others. I think she asked me if I had any family, if I liked the orphanage, if there was anyone I’d miss. Maybe she asked the others that too, because every now and again she’d have one of us move out of the line and step aside, until there was only a handful of us left.”

Rantaro’s stomach twisted uncomfortably at the memory. One he hadn’t thought of for a long time, and maybe even if he had thought of it, hadn’t seemed all that remarkable… but now made him feel a little nauseous, as he said, “And then she brought her little girl over, and told her to talk to us, and she could pick any one of us she wanted to take home with her. That whoever she picked would be her friend.”

Rantaro took a shuddering breath at that. That memory hurt now. Why did it hurt? It had never hurt before. In truth, he had sometimes recalled it with some feelings of flattery. Out of everyone, he had been picked. But now…?

“What I would learn in the upcoming years was that her mother was afraid her daughter would never be able to make true friends, in her position. That she wanted to ensure that no matter what, her child always had someone she could depend on and confide in,” Rantaro said, before frowning, “...I think she might have also, at least on some level, realized her elder child might need to be watched. He wasn’t gifted his own ‘Rantaro’. He followed along beside his sister and asked us strange questions and tried very hard to get her to pick one of the girls. But Kae–”

Rantaro covered his mouth. Squeezing the skin tight. Staring at the floor.

Xiomara’s mouth twisted and she glared at the floor. As she’d said…Rantarou had been a custom paper doll. A crazy elite really not seeing the problem with buying a friend for their precious little snot-machine. Like the group of kids weren’t people themselves. A friend for the kid, but a life-long purpose and identity crisis for…

Sharp eyes shot over to Rantarou, before Xiomara’s eyebrows scrunched. 

Moving with a slow fluidity, she put down her blunt and walked over to Rantarou, squatting by him. Not touching, but staying close, her knees off to the side and her hands folded against her stomach in a service position. 

“...Rantarou,” Xiomara said softly, “We don’t have to talk, okay? Just nod or shake your head. Do you need me to get Ienzo?”

Rantaro gave a shuddering breath…before he shook his head. Looking down at his hands, ashamed. He hadn’t realized how much he was saying until that moment. He had almost confessed who exactly he served. That was so dangerous, especially when he was saying things he knew he shouldn’t. Suggesting things he knew he shouldn’t. It was a blessing, to serve the Momota’s. It wasn’t cruel, what Princess Ibuki had done. Kaede loved him…not as a… toy. Or a pet… to suggest otherwise was… was…

Rantaro sniffled, his eyes growing wet. “I’m sorry. This is so unbecoming.” he whimpered. 

Xiomara sighed softly. 

…he hadn’t gotten the name out. She couldn’t really say for sure who the rich, pink-eyed, few years younger than Rantarou with a much older brother, ‘Kae’ was. That was…

…

…that was fucking infuriating. It was common knowledge that The Reaper had been one of the biggest driving forces in getting the program shut down, but people praised Queen Kaede in the same breath for all the policies she was making that the kind of people who would praise the program ending would like. That her personal fucking Indentured one, hadn’t ever been let go from his original contract, and two, still wasn’t free was…INFURIATING. 

But Queen Kaede wasn’t in the room right now. 

Pulling out her handkerchief--just a blank, simple one, but Xiomara had gotten it in black--she gently offered it to Rantarou. “You’re high, there’s no keeping composure. And…” she sighed again, her gaze heavy, “...I think you’re getting to actually ask yourself these sorts of questions without your mind fighting you for the first time. If you’re overwhelmed, that’s understandable.”

She looked him over again. “...I know you said you don’t like to be touched, but I feel like I should offer… Do you want a hug?”

“It’s not fair,” Rantaro pouted, accepting the handkerchief and delicately wiping his eyes with it. His posture still rigidly professional, but that in itself being a sign of how high he was. He usually made his servility look relaxed and effortless. He had mastered the art of it always looking like a coincidence, that his head was bowed and his eyes were averted and he was always pleasantly demur. Like it was just how he was, rather then a very carefully held posture to constantly make himself servile.

Without the false ‘lazy confidence’ he put into it? His posture looked stiff, and rigid, his mannerisms carefully planned, robotic in nature, dabbing his eyes in just the correct way, folding his hands in exactly the right spot when he lowered them down. Pouting, but still with his head slightly bowed, still slightly projecting the ‘you have nothing to fear from me, I’m good, I’m obedient’ mentality. 

His whole life had been carefully trained to be someone Kaede could go to for hugs… and she had never once asked if it was okay first, as Rantaro gave another burst of ugly, loud tears. “I don’t know who I am without her.” Rantaro sniffled, his face red and splotchy. He must look terrible. He must look so pathetic. He wasn’t supposed to do this. “How am I supposed to demand she let me leave? I have nowhere to go.”

Sniffling some more, Rantaro covered his head in his hands… before nodding, “Please, yes, thank you.”

Xiomara looked at Rantarou with sorrow. Anger for him. A wriggling idea in the back of her mind that this really might be the first time Rantarou had ever been able to cry about this. 

Still moving slow, starting with a hand on his arm so Rantarou could track her movements the whole time, Xiomara lifted herself up and wrapped her arms around the sobbing man. Cradling his head to her chest and encouraging him to rest his weight against her, even if he was sitting. Gently rubbing the top of his arm and over his shoulder. 

“It’s not fair,” she quietly agreed. “They didn’t just take everything from you…they stopped you from ever growing anything. They took your potential. And your mistress never considered that for you. Rantarou, you’re allowed to at the very least be conflicted about that. There’s nothing wrong or…ungrateful, or shameful about that. Or you.”

-

Outside the door, Ienzo came back to himself, holding a hand over his mouth as he tried to come down from the shaking throughout his body and the tears rolling down his cheeks. It was…too much being in someone’s mind when they were feeling that strongly. 

-

Rantaro leaned against Xiomara, his shoulders shaking as he tried to compose himself. It was so much to think about. He was so scared. He had come all of this way to open up his mind, and now that it was open, all he could see was how…empty it was. Empty his life was. He didn’t have anyone outside of Kaede. He hadn’t made friends. He had no prospects. He had lived and breathed for her, isolated in her manor, locked away in a body that could only agree and could only look at her and only wanted her approval.

And now he was still there. Or, he was supposed to be there. He was supposed to go back, and walk back into that manor, and back to Kaede, and come when she called, and listened when she talked, and accept her allowance, and not ask what he was to her now. Was he supposed to be family?

He didn’t feel like family. He felt trapped. He felt like a bird in a cage. You didn’t do this to family.

Princess Ibuki had let her daughter pick someone out of a lineup. In the end, Rantaro had always been picked because, essentially… a four year old had liked the look of him.

Everything else had been custom designed for her otherwise.

“...heh,” Rantaro giggled, leaning back and wiping his eyes a little, “Apologies, I didn’t finish my thought earlier. I was… heh. I was trying to say it wasn’t fair, that I’ve lost my composure, but you seem okay…I feel like the blunts are being very biased against me right now!” Rantaro pouted, glaring warily at the blunt in the ash tray, still smoking, “It feels safe to say it is picking on me!” he whined.

Xiomara snorted in amusement. “Turns out I’ve done harder stuff than weed before. Or maybe I’m just lucky--or unlucky, depending on your perspective.” As Rantarou leaned back, Xiomara easily let him go, though she didn’t head back to her own seat right away. “I feel kind of floaty and very aware of my body. Feel like I’d be getting ripped off if I’d shelled out for a hyped up high and got this.”

Smirking a bit at Rantarou’s pout, Xiomara raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, then? I will laugh at you if you pick a fight with a blunt.” A little more serious again, she said, “Or you can go air yourself out. I think I’d be okay chilling out here while Ienzo picks my brain if this is that bad for you.”

“No, I don’t…” Rantaro frowned, before squaring his shoulders, trying to look determined, “I don’t want to leave you alone, high and waiting to see if you obey. I don’t think he’ll try anything, but… it’s scary! To be alone! Even if he wouldn’t try anything, I don’t want to leave you alone in a position where he could!”

And he held that dignified pose for a moment… before his whole body relaxed, warily rubbing his palm against one of his eyes as he confessed, “And I wouldn’t take advantage, because honestly, all of that has always seemed sort of gross to me. Who really wants another persons body pressed into you like that? I mean, I know almost everyone else, is the answer to that, but I really can’t understand the appeal. Every time I’ve tried? I just found myself making excuses to get as quickly out of there as I could. I like that sort of thing in theory, and I don’t mind my own company,” he admitted, before his nose wrinkled, “But adding anyone else to it? It’s just never seemed worth it. Getting past the initial ‘no’ impulse.”

Hands on her hips, Xiomara’s grin got even shittier as she looked down on Rantarou. “Aw, would you look at that… I did say you were a gentleman. So brave, Sir Knight~ I’m practically swooning.”

Snickering, Xiomara returned to her own seat, deciding to take advantage of some of the snacks Ienzo had procured for them. She had no idea what he’d done to get the sorts of connections and cash for all this. She just hoped that he had the sense from what his life had been like before to not have done anything drastic. 

“So you were lying before, when you said it wasn’t like you wouldn’t get anything out of it if I tested my conditioning with you,” she said, far more amused than actually accusatory, “Cute. Surprise, surprise, I’m a fan of you aces. Can always trust more in genuine disinterest than so-called moral codes.”

Rantaro sniffed, still rubbing his eyes, pouting a bit, “I’ll admit, it wasn’t entirely altruistic. I’ve always wondered if something might jumpstart me someday. As I said, the idea of it? My own left hand? None of that repulses me,” he frowned, “The act of sex itself doesn’t seem bad at all. But…”

Rantaro’s expression darkened, his expression nakedly, ruthlessly honest as his nose wrinkled, “...the people. Ngh. I’ve never met a single person who, when it comes to the act itself, outside of just imagining it? Wasn’t just… alarming. Frightening, really. They’d smell and put their hands on you and you couldn’t really predict what they were going to do, and their breath would be on you…” Rantaro shuddered, before lamenting, “I just wish bodies weren’t so repulsive. Or that people weren’t so… overwhelming. One or the other, I might have been able to get past. But both, together? Frightening and repulsive? One cancels out the reason one might try to get past the other, either way you look at it. Why deal with the fear when the result wasn’t worth it? Why breathe through the repulsion and see if there’s something you like past it, when the experience of just trying was agony? It’s just… hard!”

Rantaro sighed, reaching over to steal some of the snack for himself, saying as he ate, “It never ended up being that important, it’s not like I was free to date, not really. It simply never came up. I doubt my mistress ever noticed that I didn’t desire other people, I think she thought it was just natural that I never would stray to anyone else. Her cousin noticed though. Immediately offered to let me experiment on him… I was tempted to take him up on it.” Rantaro admitted, before realizing he was talking with his mouth full, covering his mouth and turning away, “Sorry.”

Swallowing, and then immediately reaching for more, he continued, “I didn’t, in the end. In truth, I just rarely saw him, it never had another chance to come up. But I always wondered if maybe it was just the wrong person, or wrong people, or wrong circumstance… if maybe something randomly will just,” Rantaro snapped his fingers, shrugging, “Start me. I would have likely gotten nothing out of our encounter, but I might have gotten something, and that was enough to make me curious. Which is partly why I offered, on top of just, you know… attempting to help.” 

Xiomara nodded, expression growing more amused as Rantarou explained his utter disgust with the idea of ‘sending passionate prayers to Atua’. There were some aces that didn’t find the whole thing that gross, sure, but the ones that did? That disgust was genuine. And, in some ways, it was just so…refreshing, after people that reveled in the bodily slop of sex. 

Still sucked that Rantarou had never pursued it just to know, though, at least from the angle of it being denied to him. 

“Could be either,” she shrugged after a moment, “That something could click for you one day, or it never will. Though that does make sense, that it’s just the question of it that’s enough to offer. Fiiiiiine, I’ll hold off on the degenerate accusations for now.”

“...ugh.” Xiomara groaned, tipping her head back against the wall a bit. “Sometimes I think it’d be easier to be like you. Talking about feeling trapped? The temple brothel I work at now is top notch, the best sort of job I could even imagine, you know, for someone that’s only given out for work. The security and boundaries are actually protective, the pay’s a wonder, the crowd that’s at least willing to do the Atuan song and dance tends to be better…”

She stuck her tongue out a little. “And I still fuckin’ hate it. No wonder, but five, eight years ago? That version of me would throttle me for even thinking about leaving. Now that I gotta think about rent, I see why people consider whoring out as a backup plan when the bills come. Having your skin crawl is chump change to getting evicted.”

“There should have been something put in place,” Rantaro muttered, brow furrowing as he glared at the snacks, “I don’t know… what? But when the program was ended, it really feels like everyone involved still ended up stuck in exactly the job they were already in, or ended up on the streets. There should have been… something. I don’t know what ‘something’ is, what it’d look like, but… this all feels really half-thought out. It’s not enough that it all stopped. We’re all still stuck.”

Rantaro sighed, rubbing his temple… before he looked around the dinky room they were in. The walls cracked, water stains from a leaky roof, but… “These people seemed to have found a home for themselves, regardless.” he noticed, “Maybe there are other options, for people like you and me? That doesn’t result in us literally sitting in some gutter somewhere. It’s just hard to see it. I’m terrified to leave my mistress, mostly because I can’t imagine a life where I’m alone and taking care of just myself. I feel dependent on her. I imagine you feel the same way about your job. But I’m sure we could pay bills some other way…somehow?”

Rantaro didn’t sound convinced even as he said it. He technically had gold in a savings account, that allowance he had spoken of. But Kaede could be… bitter. Petty. Rantaro didn’t feel confident he’d have access to that account, if he dared to leave.

“What did you want to be before the debt?” Rantaro asked. “Before it was all decided?”

Xiomara sneered at the ground, something bitter and vindictive in her gaze. “Figure all this might’ve been an argument people made against ending the program, if it was ever up for debate. Oh noooo, think about all the displaced people we’d need to figure things out for, we toooootally have to keep them on the benefits of the program, it’s only humane~”

She scoffed. “It still sucks. But I’d rather have listless hope than the delusional kind about hoping you’ll be lucky enough for someone to actually end your contract.”

And it wasn’t just hope for some people. She had to imagine there were a decent number of people taking their freedom by the reins and taking a future with their own hands that had never been an option for them until now. It was hard not to consider that a delusion in its own right…but it did sound more tempting than waiting around for someone else to change things. 

“...I guess the two of us are still taking our own steps forward,” Xiomara realized with a hum, lazily glancing over at the door. “We may be stuck at our shitty jobs, but we’re letting a mad scientist work his magic to get rid of a different tie. Maybe that’ll make the rest of the shit easier.”

Stretching out her legs and crossing one spiked boot over the other, Xiomara raised an eyebrow at Rantarou. In some ways…that naive teen felt like another person. A kid who thought she’d had it all figured out and so decided to ignore all the dangers of the world, thinking she already had it handled. She’d never been a bright-eyed dreamer, but…

Xiomara huffed. Looking a little embarrassed. “I wanted to be a wind-surfer. Didn’t think I’d make it as an athlete, even back then, so I said I’d take people on tours. Take ‘em to the Obsidian Pillars ‘n shit like that.” 

“We are doing that.” Rantaro agreed dryly, giggling lightly…then giggling harder. Leaning in and whispering to Xiomara, “Do you know how far I traveled to be here, in this shitty little tavern? I came from the capital. Just hoping, hoping, that someone from the factories was still here, and would be willing to help. I lied, saying I just wanted a quiet, out of the way place to vacation for a while, we have a manor on the books here, I swore I was just resting and she let me come… I did all of that without even knowing Ienzo was actually for sure here.”

Rantaro’s eyes widened as she explained what she had actually wanted to do, back when she had the option to do things… and his eyes grew wobbly and wet, as he sniffled. “I’d have paid to take a tour to the Obsidian Pillars. That’s a good job! There’s value in that! They should have let you do that! You could have been a conditioned wind-surfer!”

And then Rantaro burst into tears again. But only for a moment, sniffing as he gave the blunt an irritated look, “If I have to burst into tears every time I want to think about what life without my mistress is like, I’m going to be very cross. This is ridiculous. I’m so sad… but also I keep wanting to giggle about everything? Also, my stomach feels hollow. Ienzo doesn’t know what he’s talking about. There’s no way there’s food in my stomach right now. It’s just a black hole in there.” He pouted, reaching for more snacks.

Xiomara raised her eyebrows, only not giving a whistle because it was something that Rantarou had whispered. “Damn, knew you were a little rebel already, but those are some lengths, pretty boy. Doesn’t sound so bad chilling out in an actual manor for a vacation if you couldn’t find these guys, though. Stupid to ask, but I did wonder how you found out about them. If you were staking everything on it, it’s less of a mystery.”

Xiomara had gotten a recommendation. Rantarou had gone where he guessed old factory workers were, without even knowing if any of them were working on how to do conditioning at all. It had been a massive leap of faith for him. She could respect that. 

Though she just flushed, scoffing a little as she took a long swig of her water as Rantarou got emotional about her teenage dreams. “Pah… Don’t need someone that won’t stab you in the back to do a luxury job like that. And I have big tits. It’d’ve been a wonder if a brothel didn’t pick me up.”

Safely holding onto her own snacks--she wasn’t gonna say it, but it did feel like she hadn’t eaten anything that day--Xiomara pushed a bag more towards Rantarou before smirking. “Well, I think we can safely say we’re high as kites. And that his tip-off was right. Think we should let him know?”

“I’d be surprised if he doesn’t know already,” Rantaro sniffed, rubbing his eyes, “People guarding doors tend to listen to what’s happening on the other side of them. Guards know all the gossip. You shouldn’t have important conversations near doors… sniff.”

Rantaro stood up–he wobbled a little, tried to stand up properly, wobbled some more–before headed over to the door. Looking warily at the doorknob like he wasn’t sure what it was, before knocking on the door. “Please come in, we’re going to need sandwiches. And we’re ready to report. Or be tested.” Rantaro paused, before giggling, “I can’t remember what it was you wanted us to do. One of those, right?”

After a moment, Ienzo opened the door, looking a little dazed himself…or, he did from what Xiomara could see of his face, most of it being covered with a sleeved hand. And…more than the dazed expression, she noticed his eyes were a bit red too. 

“...I see inebriation was successful. Though I suppose I knew that,” Ienzo said, his voice stuffed, like…

“Are you plugging your nose?” Xiomara asked incredulously. 

“Weed reeks,” Ienzo said simply, shrugging.

“Have you considered you reek?” Rantaro giggled, before blowing his nose into Xiomara’s handkerchief, “Ienzo, your demon weed made me cry a lot. Is making me cry a lot.” Rantaro paused, reaching up to touch the burning bags beneath his eyes, as he admitted, “Feels neat. I can see the appeal.”

“Often,” Ienzo said simply, “Though we usually have been able to get soap.”

Ienzo…was aware, to an extent, that Rantarou had been crying--strong emotions provoking a response in an Empath didn’t always mean that the person having them would express those feelings in similar ways, but he had a good guess--but he nodded gently. “Apologies. That wasn’t my experience with weed, but I suppose this is good to know for the future. I…can already make some conclusions of my own, but how are you feeling, Rantarou? Besides something that’s provoking you to cry.”

Rantaro smiled weakly, “It has occurred to me that being picked out of a group of children to be a lifelong designated friend might have been, in hindsight, a bit degrading and humiliating, and might have ruined my life.”

Rantaro paused.

“Also, I really need a sandwich.” He said, eyes reddening in another raising burst of helpless tears, “I’m so hungry.”

…oh yeah. That was definitely conditioning being nullified. 

Fuck yeah.

But also--

“Perhaps,” Ienzo softly agreed with a gentle look before sighing. “Alright, I’ll ask one of the others to bring up more substantial food. I would do it myself, but I don’t particularly want to leave you guys here alone.”

Glancing to Xiomara, he asked her the same. 

“Haven’t tested anything,” she shrugged, “But I’m chilling. Mostly ‘Tarou and I have just been talking.”

Ienzo gave a small, hesitant nod. “...theoretically, we might not have to directly test your conditioning. If I can pin-point the changes in Rantarou’s mind and compare it to yours that should…probably be evidence.”

She glared down the bridge of her nose at him. “...seriously, what happened to you? You’ve never shied away from testing things directly before.”

“Ienzo always cared about the tests, and he always cared about not making it too hard on us,” Rantaro observed, sniffing a little as he tilted his head, “But…this feels different. Nice for its own sake. Like you’re afraid of hurting our feelings. I’d call it a difference between having a moral understanding of right and wrong, and an empathetic understanding of it.”

Pause.

“I would know,” Rantaro whimpered, eyes reddening again as he wobbled in his seat, “She can’t tell the difference. She used to tell ‘jokes’ to her cousin when they were young and wait to see his reaction to tell if those ideas were bad or not. I couldn’t do the same for her. I could give moral arguments, but I wasn’t allowed to show disgust. And it’s not like if an idea was disgusting her other cousin would react appropriately. Two peas in a pod right there.” Rantaro grumbled, nose wrinkling. 

“I suppose that’s just another way to say it, but there is a certain level of discomfort I’d like to avoid if it’s manageable,” Ienzo mumbled, feeling weirdly flattered and weirdly embarrassed to be called out on having an empathetic sense of compassion. It was, in a sense, exactly what the Nobodies had been striving for in becoming whole. Regaining, or even forming, an understanding with other people that they had been lacking with their defenses. 

Ienzo certainly knew there was a lot for him to gain, in being whole again, but it was satisfying to know that even people that didn’t know what had happened could recognize it too. And rather intriguing that the same result was achieved in certain people likely without psychic manipulation. 

“At the risk of working backwards, I’d still argue that having a socially defined moral sense is still worthwhile. It’s not always a lack of effort that prevents people from having empathy, and it’s not something that can be taught, unlike compassion. However…if your mistress had to crowd source morality, then that seems more likely that she doesn’t even have that understanding to begin with.” Ienzo frowned under his hand. “...which really sucks, as someone working under her. I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s alright,” Rantaro said, before his eyes widened in sudden wonder, “I could go make my own sandwich… please excuse me, you two,” Rantaro said, standing up and determinedly heading to the door, “I’m going to go fix us up some lunch. I’m assuming ingredients are down on the first floor?”

Ienzo made a…weird sort of panicked noise--something that only Xiomara really had a definition for, which she called a ‘bottom noise’--and tried to block Rantarou from going through the door. “I’ve already asked one of the others. While normally it’d be fine to make use of our facilities…”

Ienzo gave Rantarou a mildly desperate look. “...for your own sake, I’d rather not have you bump into any of the others while you’re high.”

Xiomara tensed a little, giving Ienzo a more serious look. “Thought you guys were off the manipulation game?”

“Yeah, but they’re still assholes,” he muttered.

“HEY! We’re assholes who make sandwiches when our dear friend asks for it!” Demyx called from halfway up the stairs, overhearing this part as Rantaro had held the door open, being talking back inside. “Sorry we’ve only got jar stuff, I could only make sweetened peanut butter! The fridge keeps randomly going out so it’s been tough to store meat in there,” Demyx explained, passing Rantaro the plate of sandwiches, who looked in absolute wonder at them. “Heheh… you’re soooo baked.”

“I am.” Rantaro agreed, before slamming the door in Demyx’s face.

Ignoring the sputtering, outraged cries on the other side, Rantaro turned to the other two, smiling charmingly, “I brought us sandwiches~”

{Gratitude / mildly apologetic / we’ll hang out later? / EXCITEMENT / It’s working!}

“Very well done, pretty boy, I think you’ve broken some records with that,” Xiomara praise, looking on with smirking amusement, able to actually feel that for the shouting at the door rather than tightly strung anxiety. Though, her sharp gaze slid over to Ienzo next. “Dear friend, huh?”

“Demyx is my best friend,” Ienzo confirmed, more nonplussed now that Rantarou wasn’t trying to saunter right into the den of snarky, weird assholes.

{So rude!! Nah it’s all good. Hell yeah!!!}

“Aww, that’s nice,” Rantaro smiled, having put the platter of sandwiches down next to Xiomara, now contently chewing on his own, “Friends are nice. They’re very useful. It’s very difficult to start coup’s without at least a few.”

Rantaro frowned, before wilting in his chair a little, looking ashamed of himself, “I have to stop saying things. I’m not supposed to talk about those things. I’m usually much better at keeping my mouth shut than this, it’s basically effortless. Why am I talking so much… oh, right, I’m drugged.” Rantaro said, nodding, looking considerably more relaxed. “I hope Xiomara is drugged too.”

“I am, don’t worry, this isn’t some elaborate scheme to make you look silly alone,” Xiomara…reassured? Giving Rantarou a piranha smile as she nodded in thanks and took a sandwich. 

Ienzo sighed softly, giving Xiomara a dry look before turning to Rantarou again. “I imagine it’s a combination of you just being the type to talk a lot while high, while also being able to talk about your work more candidly. I’ll be sure to reiterate it while you’re sober, but no personal information leaves this room,” Ienzo said seriously, having a good few guesses what ‘coup’ meant and knowing how dangerous that was to talk about casually.

Rantaro smiled at Ienzo in gratitude–his smile while high was wobbly and a little crooked. This was largely because, outside of his carefully crafted persona, Rantaro didn’t have a lot of personal experience smiling just because, and his face wasn’t sure what to do–before looking to Xiomara, “How does your conditioning even work? Mine is I have to obey my mistress and basically put her and her needs above everythings else. If it’s good for her, it’s ‘good’.” Rantaro explained, “Even if technically I knew otherwise. The most I could think against her was worrying about how her own actions might negatively affect her. It would keep me up at night, worrying about her.”

“But, you were trained with brothels in mind, yes?” Rantaro frowned, “Is that just obedience? I can’t imagine you were conditioned to obsess over the wellbeing of customers that would change out every day. Is it general obedience, or just sexual?”

“Ugh,” Xiomara griped, wrinkling her nose. Sure, even for people with more widespread positions they had stories about the job not being done even outside of working hours, but it was so…insulting. Mind, body, life… Not a moment left for themselves. 

“Could you imagine? I think that level of care would be more off-putting to customers than something to want, actually,” Xiomara scoffed, “Start getting ideas that your lay for the night wants to marry you, and that’s a quick way to lose a customer.”

Glaring to the side as she idly munched, she explained, “It’s mostly sexual obedience. You get put in a sexual situation and everything in your head is suddenly a ‘yes, beautiful’. There’s still some general stuff with it too, though, I guess for making sure we’d follow the rules of the brothel when it’s more administrative than sexual.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “There was always a debate around if we had conditioning that’d get us horny on command. Never felt like that to me, but a girl I knew said it didn’t matter for us since with enough lube it doesn’t matter if we’re wet or not. Little more obvious if you’re not hard in the middle of an appointment.”

Rantaro’s nose wrinkled in disgust at the idea of being horny on demand, but after a second of thinking about it, “I wonder if that would have made it easier? Should we try just ordering you to be horny? …” He suddenly squinted suspiciously at Ienzo, “Who was in charge of the ‘horniness conditioning’? Maybe they’d know?”

Xiomara shrugged, not looking that enthused by the idea. “Like I said before, it’s not as if I never got anything out of it. Feel like getting horny on customers’ dime would just leave me feeling even more conflicted about it. Though, since it’s never worked for me before, I doubt that’d mean anything if it didn’t work now.”

That may be true, but just getting confirmation if it was a part of conditioning at all…

A conflicted wince spread across Ienzo’s face. “...I…could ask. I guess.”

Rantaro raised an eyebrow, and then that not feeling like it was portraying his incredulousness enough, tilted his head to the side, “Why the reluctance? Surely this is normal for you all? Do you all not talk about this?”

Then his brow furrowed, as he admitted, “I guess most Indentured never talked about the details of their own conditionings either. Maybe that was just also true in the factories.” 

“No, we did, to an extent, at least. Sharing information was one of the only advantages we could get,” Ienzo explained, still looking hesitant, though some of the confusion seemed to be self-directed. “...this is new to me. I’ve never had issues just asking the others for information before, but…”

Ienzo’s eyes narrowed uncertainly as he winced again. “...asking my dad about the sexual responses he may have conditioned into people is something I’m curiously trepidatious about.”

Xiomara immediately pulled a grimace. “Oh.”

“Oh, no, don’t do that.” Rantaro said, quickly nodding, a bead of sweat near his otherwise blown out eyes, “Oh noooooo… really?”

Then he leaned in, whispering warily, “The shouty older gentlemen?”

Ienzo shook his head. “Other dad.”

Xiomara frowned lightly. “...are literally all the older people that were in the factory with you your parents?”

“No, though we’ve always had a sense of responsibility towards the younger Empaths, through the generations,” Ienzo explained, “My dads just were the main people who raised me, though the others have always looked after me and each other as well. There was a couple who many of us agreed were our collective mom and dad, but…” Another uneasy expression crossed Ienzo’s face. “...well, we just stopped saying that as much, after a while.”

Rantaro watched that flash of discomfort cross Ienzo’s face… and then burst into tears again. 

“Oh noooooo,” He whimpered, pushing his arm into his very fashionable bicep, sniffling into a hoody that cost way too much to be ‘general street clothes’ because Rantaro by default only knew to shop at the nicer districts, “Something happened.”

And because Rantaro just had normal empathy, but even normal empathy could lead you to connect some dots–why would a couple designated Mom and Dad suddenly uncomfortably lose the title?--he whimpered, “To a kid. Oh noooo…maybe we can ask the blond delinquent to ask your father about how you do sexual conditioning,” Rantaro said, his mind immediately moving on to a solution to the first problem, wiping his eyes as he looked towards the door, “He’d probably do it.”

Ienzo glanced down for a moment, eyes lowered with pain. Aqua and Terra hadn’t stopped being caring after Ventus, even ‘Terra’ now kept a close, protective eye on the teens, but it had felt…wrong to half jokingly call them Mom and Dad after they lost their biological child. Like it was the barest respect they could give for Aqua and Terra’s grief to bury those names with Ventus. Then after Terra died, there was no shot. 

Taking a small breath, Ienzo grimaced a bit. “...he would.” And Aeleus would likely answer Demyx, just like he’d likely answer Ienzo, but…well… Asking with intent meant that everyone would be able to hear it, and if even asking Aeleus in private made Ienzo hesitate, the idea of asking in front of everyone was…

…was…he blushing?? Weird.

“I’ll ask,” Ienzo sighed. 

{You still nearby?} he asked Demyx.

{Eh?} Demyx felt back, {Yeah sitting downstairs what’s up more sandwiches?}

Demyx got the next message swiftly, somewhat surprised at the request, but of course with intent he understood why he was being asked basically as soon as Ienzo had asked him. The intention behind the question sent with it. {Oh yikes, yeah, I’ve got you. Give me a bit! Pretty sure I saw him sitting in the back alley not that long ago!}

Stretching, Demyx hopped off the bar stools, grabbing his pretzels to take with him as he headed to the back rooms of the tavern, moving past the kitchen and out the back door. 

It was sunny out. Demyx winced, actually a little surprised by how bright it was. But as his eyes adjusted, yep, there was Aeleus, sitting out in the sun. It was relatively safe to just hang out in their ‘backyard’, for lack of a better word, as walls had been put up around the other businesses years ago to separate themselves from the dead, dangerous cut off alley that the tavern was hidden away in. There wasn’t much back there other then a thin bit of pathway that didn’t go anywhere and an open sky, but it was a nice spot to just sit and be if all you really wanted was some sky watching or sun anyway.

“Hey big guy!” Demyx called, waving at Aeleus, “Ienzo sent me. Mind if I grill you for a second?”

Aeleus opened his eyes, from where he had been meditating in the sunrays. If they weren’t working at a breakneck pace, often there had been plenty of time to simply sit with your thoughts in the factory, but Aeleus found that even with an open world, carving out time to center yourself in the present and be aware of your body and thoughts was still beneficial. 

Though the world outside of oneself was more demanding these days. 

Regarding Demyx for a moment, Aeleus declined his his slightly, giving the okay, though he quietly noted, “Ienzo is amid an experiment with his volunteers today.”

“Yeah, it’s a part of it. We’re pretty sure one of them is one of yours! Brothel stuff,” Demyx said, shrugging in a ‘of course, right’ sort of motion, the exaggerated swagger of how he walked over trying to offset how clearly uncomfortable he felt asking as he said, “Anyway, no big deal, Ienzo’s just trying to get a sense of what the brothel career track conditioning actually preps for? They’re trying to figure out how to test if her conditioning’s slipped a bit without, ya know… asking her to go doggy style, haha, am I right?” Demyx laughed nervously, practically full body wincing at his own joke. Out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop and think ‘maybe that’s in bad taste’. 

“Hm,” Aeleus grunted, noting his understanding. It wasn’t all that surprising, though Aeleus hadn’t pried into Ienzo’s volunteers’ personal lives, when he asked about his son’s findings. Basically every ex-Indentured in Chonis and the surrounding cities--and more, for some--had gone through their factory, and given where they had ended up, with word getting out the way it had, the chances of a brothel worker being a volunteer were high. 

One of his, and one of Lauriam’s, then. Not even that interesting to note, though Aeleus now had the perspective to be thankful one of them hadn’t been one of Ienzo’s. He didn’t doubt his son would work just as hard to unravel conditioning, but after seeing just how much guilt Ienzo had been carrying around from his work? Aeleus could just be thankful it wasn’t compounded with a ‘round two’, so to speak. 

As for how to test a brothel worker’s conditioning respectfully, though…

He beckoned for Demyx to come closer, as he stood up. 

Uh oh. 

Demyx chuckled nervously, scooting closer little by little as he said, “You know, we have all these cool Empath abilities, I know you and I struggle a little with the more nuanced stuff–though, I gotta tell you all, suddenly being whole has opened up my abilities in weird ways! We should definitely ask Sora and Axel and your son if they’ve had a similar thing going on, but anyway, my point is, we could ask one of the others to tether us and you could just–eep!”

The eep was unnecessary. Demyx had just flinched when he saw Aeleus shift his weight slightly as he got close. Demyx was not sure still if his nerves were unnecessary though, as he asked, “Sooooo?”

“That seems important to have brought up sooner,” Aeleus noted, not accusing Demyx, but some of the natural rumble of his voice making the statement a little more imposing than he meant. That was par for the course with Aeleus, though. 

Giving the younger man a flat look at his squeak, Aeleus informed, “I will not hurt you, Demyx.” 

Before grasping one of Demyx’s wrists, pulling it behind Demyx’s head as he turned the younger Empath away from him, putting gentle pressure on the middle of Demyx’s back. “Ienzo should ask his volunteer to get into this position, and ask her to try to get out of it. If she can, or attempts to, then that is a sign her conditioning is failing.”

“Eeeeee!” Demyx squealed again, though he went, “Oh,” when the manhandling became less the elaborate beatdown he knew Aeleus was very capable of–when you spent years together and literally only had other people as entertainment, you spent time in everyone's mind, inevitably. Aeleus’ fighting rings being weirdly popular with some of their family, but not Demyx’s favorite by a long shot–but the gesture, while firm, was oddly gentle. 

…it was very uncomfortable to feel a little flustered with your best friend's dad holding you. Yeah, Demyx wanted out of this.

Pulling away, Demyx gave a small breath of relief when Aeleus easily let him go, before laughing sheepishly. “Ooph! Alright, I’ll let them know! Even just being willing to pull out of it is enough?” he clarified. 

Demyx had always been one of the more difficult members of their group to convince to exercise. To be honest, Ienzo had been too, though he had always eventually caved. Perhaps it had just been health for health’s sake in the factory, but Aeleus did find some pride in himself that they all hadn’t left the factory emaciated and weak. The world would not be gentle to them, they needed to be strong enough to withstand it. 

Nodding once, Aeleus confirmed, “If the conditioning’s still working, she should go limp, or freeze at the very least. Any amount of struggle is significant.”

“Got it! Oh, before I run off, I’m not sure if Ienzo meant for me to ‘hear’ this bit, but,” Demyx shrugged, “Apparently there’s some debate over whether they were compelled to feel horny? Yay or nay, big guy?”

“Not purposefully,” Aeleus answered, unbothered, “Sometimes it was a side effect.”

“Yeah, I could see that. Thanks!” Demyx called, giving Aeleus an informal half-bow before running back inside. 

He headed upstairs, knocking on the door. “Nooooow can I come in?” he whined. “He gave this body motion thing I have to try, uh, I’m not sure how to… like {this}?” he said, focusing hard on what Aeleus had just done to him. “If conditioning is working? She should just let you. No resistance,” he called through the door.

Rantaro, enthusiastically, had started throwing snacks into the air and trying to catch them with his mouth, and had just celebrated catching two different nuts at the same time when Demyx had come back, pouting at the door. “Why does he want to come in here so much? Tell him we’re doing science in here. Tragic science.” 

While they had been waiting, Ienzo had been quiet, eyes closed as he tried to observe as much of the state of Rantarou’s mind as possible. He didn’t think he’d isolate the exact changes within their experiment time, but as long as he at least observed what it might be, he could analyze the memories ad nauseum without a pressing time limit. Or, perhaps, the time limit he always had, in the knowledge of ex-Indentureds trying to navigate their freed lives with conditioning. 

As Demyx returned, though…

Xiomara raised an eyebrow, seeing the sudden flush come over Ienzo’s face. Even high she’d noticed that he’d avoided actually telling them what had happened to him, but…sheesh. Whatever it was, it’d done a number on their stoic scientist. 

Sighing, Ienzo muttered, “He’s an extrovert,” before calling through the door. “Thank you, Demyx. But I still have to insist on not bringing in any new, unknown factors to my volunteers especially when they’re in a vulnerable state.”

Getting up, he motioned for Xiomara to do the same. “Alright, it seems like there’s a shorthand for us to test this.”

Demyx groaned behind the door– people were hanging out! He wanted to hang out!!--before heading off, back to his lonely existence of not hanging out and getting high with his pal. 

Back in the room, Rantaro frowned as he recalled exactly what Demyx had said, “She has to put up resistance to something? We’re… still allllll on the same page about physical torture, right? Just checking in.”

“Yes,” Ienzo confirmed, giving Xiomara a gentle look as she got up. “I know it didn’t sound like much to you two, but it was much more effective for Demyx to explain everything with our abilities. …even things I didn’t need to know,” he grumbled softly before explaining to Xiomara the position she needed to go into, Ienzo, gently holding her wrist and putting a hand on her back like he’d understood from Demyx. 

There was a pause, before Xiomara looked over her shoulder…and down. Their height differences making this a bit different than Aeleus and Demyx. “...so I just have to get out of this?”

“As I understand, ye - Nn!” Ienzo just barely caught himself as he stumbled, nearly shoved on the ground as Xiomara had twisted her hand, grabbing Ienzo’s forearm and nearly pulling him over her shoulder, if not for her other arm going around his back and shoving the rest of him forward and around her as well. 

She gave him a skeptical look. “You sure that was it? I get that you didn’t actually want to pin me, but you were barely holding me at all.”

“U-uh…” Ienzo stuttered, still righting himself, visible eye wide. “I believe we can say your conditioning is nullified, yes.”

Rantaro clapped a bit, giving a fully supportive nod at Xiomara’s resistance. Heck yeah, she resisted the heck out of him. He bet that was only 1/100ths of her resisting power. Wow, he had gone from ‘crying a lot’ to ‘veeery chilled out’. This part was great. The whole thing was great, really. He could watch Xiomara resist stuff all day. 

“So, wait, what would have happened if her conditioning was working, then?” Rantaro asked, “She would have just stood there?” He asked Ienzo, though he was looking at Xiomara, inviting her to clarify, assuming she had ever noticed anything about that position before.

Xiomara just shrugged, giving Ienzo a pat on the shoulder as she returned to her seat (and snacks), though as Ienzo straightened, he nodded. “Apparently she’d have gone limp or would freeze. So that not only resisting, but, er, effectively disarming the grapple without any cognisant recognition of struggle means that marijuana is definitely nullifying your conditioning. So, for you both, this is resounding evidence that the information I got was accurate.”

Ienzo smiled faintly at them both. “...so that means that hopefully soon, you…may be unhampered by conditioning fully. Permanently.”

Rantaro’s eyes widened… before he suddenly smiled sadly. Eyes reddening, but not bursting into tears yet, as he noted, “But not today. This is going to wear off soon, huh?”

He sighed, letting his head fall a little, his light green hair falling over his face a bit. He felt like he still had so much to think about. So much to consider. And it was… suffocating. To know that in a few hours, he wouldn’t be able to anymore. In a few hours, he’d feel guilty he had done any of this. 

Being here? Trying to break his conditioning? Was only possible for him at all by restructuring his motivation to all be for Kaede’s benefit. She was queen now! She… she didn’t need a puppet to yes-man her forever, she had thousands of those now. She needed a real friend. 

And worse, Rantaro’s existence was now a PR nightmare. Kaede couldn’t be the Queen That Ended The Indentured Program, and still keep her own, persona lndentured to fulfill the exact task that he was customized to do, for her. History would find out. It would paint her in a bad light. She couldn’t demand every other elite give up their personalized enslaved servants, and then keep hers on a conditioned leash and chain. 

If Kaede wanted to be the good queen that Rantaro… was… pretty sure??? He knew she could be??? She had to start with her personal life. She couldn’t fix everyone else and then herself last. The ‘Rantaro’ problem needed to be dealt with, and Rantaro was determined to do it himself. To ensure her place in history.

(But, god.)

(To even imagine, wanting it for himself…)

(He was going to lose that ability, soon.)

Ienzo gave them an apologetic look, even as Xiomara sighed and waved his look off. (He could still feel her disappointment, after all.) “If I could ensure you your autonomy now, I would. The closest I can think is… Perhaps think of it as sealing the condition of your minds as they are right now. But not only is going through the rest of your lives high not a viable option, I’m quite certain there would be a plethora of other issues that would come from having a ‘never changing’ mind. And I’m not sure I’d even be able to succeed at doing that.”

Xiomara huffed a little harder. “Ienzo, you having a lead as solid as this is already a fuckin’ miracle. Don’t prostrate yourself because you can’t solve things instantly. Conditioning sucks, but we’ve dealt with it this long, and we can hold out longer knowing there’s an end in sight.”

She gave him a hard look, though there was genuine vulnerability shining underneath. “Just don’t keep us waiting forever, okay?”

“Xiomara’s right,” Rantaro said, smiling enthusiastically, “After the other experiments, staying up all night, stressing our bodies out, that weird, circular dance thing you had us do that sort of seemed like an elaborate way to do squats and yoga… I didn’t lose faith, but I was reserving myself to the idea that if you did get a breakthrough, it was going to be after I had run out of time and had to go home. It was clear you weren’t sure where to start.”

“So, to see something not only work, but work well?” Rantaro smiled wider… before bursting into tears again, “It just gives me hope. That even if you can’t solve this before I go back, that you have something really solid to work on. That one day I’ll still hear good news anyway.” He sniffled, blowing into Xio’s handkerchief again, “Xio, I need to take this home and wash it, this is really gross now, I can’t make you put this in your pocket.” He whimpered.

Ienzo relaxed a little, his slight smile returning. “I’ll still defend that they were experiments worth running. Every bit of data is worthwhile for understanding the world…but, yes, it is uplifting to have something work out.”

“‘Ppreciate it, moneybags,” Xiomara snorted. “I’m not left in a laundry wasteland, but I’d rather not have snotty pockets, thanks.”

Shifting slightly, Ienzo thought over what Rantarou said about returning home. About their own upcoming plans to leave Luminary entirely. Glancing down for a moment, Ienzo gave them a slightly nervous look. “Actually, about that… We might be able to contact you even without being physically near. Ideally, once I consolidate the correct effect into something replicable, it’ll be something we can distribute to every person with conditioning, and going on a tour over the whole country and beyond to achieve that had never been my intention. If…it takes long enough for me to nail down that we can’t meet in person anymore, you won’t be left out of the rewards. Especially since I’m very familiar with your minds’ signatures now.”

A heavy silence among the group at that. The three scientific, rebel conspirators… just looking at the reality that soon, the three of them would be separated. And their strange little time together would be over. Rantaro back at the capital, Xiomara here, and it sounded like, Ienzo somewhere else.

It was the natural way to progress, of course. The experiments were always going to be temporary. It was just, in that moment… a little sad. 

“We’re doing something really good here.” Rantaro whispered, “Regardless of our reasons, we still are. These last few months might be the best thing I’ve ever done. So… thank you both. For having let me participate all this time. Even though I know I must have come across very sketchy. It’s… relieving. To know I’ve helped.” He turned to Xiomara and Ienzo, smiling tearily, “It’s a nice first choice to make, really. I’m glad I can think that. Even if it’s only briefly.”

Ienzo had never really lost hope, in the factory. It had been simple logic to him--if there was a way to implement conditioning, then there had to be a way to get rid of it. Even as all his hypotheses and experiments had failed, sometimes spectacularly and left at Orlette’s hands, sometimes quietly only to his own disappointment, he had never stopped trying. 

Being able to try openly, with people willing to work with him? He had always been grateful for Rantarou and Xiomara volunteering, of course, but…

…he found there was a part of him that was a little disappointed that he had only just met them as himself. 

“Geez, you two really are some sad saps,” Xiomara drawled, even as there was a small smile twitching at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, you could say we’re some real badasses. Revolutionaries in our own rights. Just keep in mind that there’s a lady in Chonis who’s seen you both in some really embarrassing moments when you start getting big heads off in rich people land and scientist haven, okay?”

“I’ll be sure to,” Ienzo said softly. “I’m…grateful to have known and worked with you both. Memories are very precious to me, so I won’t be forgetting our time together and what we’ve accomplished.”

“Though,” he smirked a little, “That’s counting a few too many eggs. I still have a lot of work ahead of me. And you two have some time to sober up.”

Rantaro, high and sentimental, wanted to offer Xiomara right then and there to come back with him. Forget this place, forget her job, he had plenty of space and she was fun and he hated the idea of her doing the work she did, not when there were so few other choices for her. 

He wanted to take her windsailing. 

…but he couldn’t entertain it, not even high. For the same reason he could never, in a thousand years, even offer any of them to come spend the night in his manor. It’d be reported back to Kaede immediately. She’d wonder who they were and how Rantaro knew them and she’d find out too.

And even if she didn’t, Rantaro knew there’d be consequences for just… socializing. Kaede entirely content to be Rantaro’s whole world. As she had always been.

Rantaro wasn’t just sentimental because he was high–though it was definitely a factor– and not just because he was doing something good, or saw the end of his conditioning hypothetically on the horizon… he just liked the ability to spend time with people he didn’t necessarily have to perform for. This was nice. He was going to miss it.

“...can we have the blond delinquent make us more sandwiches?” Rantaro asked.

Ienzo crossed his arms a little. “...I am starting to feel bad for asking Demyx so much when it’s just to be at the door. He is exceptionally good at rolling with the punches, but he is my friend.”

He pouted a little. “...are the snacks that bad? I…haven’t really had to shop for stuff like that before, I’ll be honest.”

“The snacks are good,” Rantaro said, before sagely adding, “Sandwiches are also good.”

“You guys conditioned us,” Xiomara joined in, not above taking that pot shot, “I think he can deal with being a gopher for a little while.”

Ienzo sighed. 

{...}

{...Demyx?}

{HOW MANY SANDWICHES CAN THEY EAT!??}

-

Sam didn’t really understand the sort of tech wizardry that Maru and Sebastian had done to make his headphones, but he’d hype-man them to Iony for the rest of his life for it. Music was now on the go, wherever, whenever and without being loud enough to get yelled at for a ruckus. Sure, it was a little limited, with only one instrument and maaaybe three songs if he set the note-loop well, and it got super jarring when the clockwork ran down and a song just stopped. But! Those were all just little nitpicks against the reality that HE COULD HAVE MUSIC AROUND AT ALL TIMES!

Which really helped during work, and after seeing how much more focused he was with his headphones, Morris had allowed him to wear them officially too. Sam had a feeling it helped that he mostly cleaned and was never tending to the front of house. Apparently the ‘authentic island feel’ the manor was supposed to instill in guests and potential buyers was mostly limited to their uniforms. 

But, whatever, all that was to say? Sam was happily bobbing his head as he swept the hallway, grooving to the tune playing in his ears.

U-U

O.O

To be honest? This wasn’t even the first time Amaina had done this. 

Of course she knew about the Empath radio. Like, no-doi. But she usually had the most fun riding around the tethers that the music danced through, visiting random minds that were currently listening to and grooving to the music. She rarely stuck around the source of the music, because usually the guy was just sitting around, vibing, which was all well and good, but Amaina was a more active dancer than that, and she liked being where the action was.

But lo! Look at this?? The music source was…

OoO where the heck are we? she asked from the top of Sam’s broom. Looking around curiously at the stockroom.

“Gah!” Sam jumped a bit, surprised by the…sprite that was suddenly on his broom. “Hoo, give a guy some warning, would you? That almost got me as good as the time my watch was late and Shane came up behind me to tell me to clock out! Geez…”

Fixing his headphones and calming his heart, Sam snorted in amusement. “I dunno how specific you want me to be. We’re in a stockroom? Not the kind of place I’d expect anything so colorful to happen,” he laughed, giving the sprite an appreciative nod of her style.

OoO How can I warn people I’m coming without still just appearing!?

OOO YOU ASK THE IMPOSSIBLE

OvO thank you I am very colorful

Amaina hopped off the broom, letting her little body ‘fall’ down onto the floor, waddling around on nubby legs as she looked curiously around the storage room. She took in all the various items, food stuff it seemed, mostly, but a few glass plates, some cups, a lot of them with random pineapple imagery. Why so much pineapple? Over there was a whole vase shaped like a pineapple!

O.O the land of food and pineapples

OOO AND MUSIC! 

OoO where’s the music coming from, music boy?

Sam considered that, leaning on his broom as the sprite hopped off it, before snickering. “You know, that’s fair. Guess I’m just a little jumpier here, but that’s not your fault. Oh the life of having a manager~” …and a mom that came and visited him at work sometimes, even if she was looking at the sales too. 

“Not wrong,” he laughed, watching as the sprite looked around, “Though I guess that means I should specify we’re in Novis, then? Don’t think a lot of people would mind being called the land of pineapples--Leah made some pineapple spiced wine for the Feast of the Winter Star once and it blew everyone’s minds. My mom’s still been trying to figure out the recipe since.”

Perking, Sam grinned and crouched down to be closer to the sprite, taking off his headphones and showing them to her, the music quiet and distant in the storeroom. “Cool, right? My buddy and his sister made these for me. I don’t really know the nitty gritty, but basically there’s a tiny music box in here that you can program and wind up to play automatically. Basically magic, right?!”

OoO !!! 

QoQ Magic

Amaina grew her usual fairy wings, fluttering up to take a closer look at the headphones, looking it over in fascination. This was genuinely new technology to her, she had yet to see this replicated in any other mind she had visited. New music stuff!! What a time to be alive! 

Aw, but, bummer… if it was being made off-continent, that meant it was going to be a long time before Dicea got a hold of it. They didn’t get a lot of imports from other places too much, they prided themselves on being more self-sustaining than that, which meant sometimes it took a while for the cool stuff to pass the border too. 

Poor Senpai didn't get to see the cool headphone magic…

O.O

OoO wait here hot music man

OOO I GOTTA GO GRAB SOMETHING

And Amaina disappeared. 

Though, Sam wouldn’t have much time to wonder about it, as someone from above screamed, and because Amaina ran on looney tunes logic, from a hole in the sky, Miku fell ‘on top’ of him.

Now, Sam had assumed, similarly to quite a few people, that Amaina was some sort of physical, magic being herself. A sprite or a fairy or something of the ilk. Was it strange for a sprite to suddenly appear on the top of his broom at work? Uh, yeah, incredibly, but sometimes the wonders of the world just happened, they didn’t adhere to human rules and expectations. 

However, with the whole presence of an Empath around? And not just a Chibi that had honed the skill of flitting through minds without notice? Uhhhh Sam was PRETTY AWARE that there was another whole-ass Empath, not just portalling to him, but full-on projecting themselves in his perception. Which was bonkers, and kind of a little scary, if he were honest, but mostly Sam’s reaction was--

“GAH!” Sam stumbled back as he dropped his broom and headphones with a clatter, landing back on his ass as he tried to ‘catch’ the Empath. 

Which…probably looked rather strange, when Claire poked her head into the storeroom, giving him a bewildered look before shaking her head and continuing on her way. A muttered, “Not my problem,” on her breath.

“Oh, dammit… Amaina!” Miku shouted, wincing as she rubbed her back, looking around in frustration, “Amaina, this is why everyone keeps telling me you’re out of control! Amaina, you can’t just…augh! You can’t just brain-nab me! That’s a line! …Amaina!?”

Miku scoffed, ignoring the fact that she was currently sitting in some random dude’s lap as she crossed her arms and closed her eyes, focusing… oh, that was why Amaina wasn’t answering. She was currently running the body, making sure the oven wasn’t about to burn the dinner Miku had been making. “Just take it out of the oven in fifteen minutes! And then turn it off!” 

Miku huffed, opening her eyes and glaring at the wall–stupid, overly powerful construct–before she finally glanced over at the person who’s lap she was in… and squeaked in shock. Throwing herself out of his lap and putting her hands up as she said, “I am so, so sorry! Oh, shoot, I’m in someone else’s head! I thought she was trying to show me something in a dream! Um… sorry!” 

Sam listened, wide-eyed as the woman in his lap ranted, faintly grateful that no one else could hear this. He’d come in banged up enough from skating before that Claire probably just thought he’d tripped over himself, if she thought any more about this at all, but, uh…suddenly being mind-invaded wasn’t quite the excitement he’d thought about when he’d told Demyx before he wouldn’t mind if someone hit him up at work. 

And this was a little more than hitting up. 

“...she’s a construct?!” Sam yelped, putting together some of the things the woman had said, looking amazed and taken off guard before he incidentally mirrored her, putting his hands up as well. “I-it’s okay! Uh, well, I mean, projecting this hard to me is a little much, so I’m not saying, like, that’s totally cool to do all the time, but…it doesn’t sound like you did this on purpose?”

Sam grinned sheepishly, slowly putting his hands down. “If you can believe it, not the first time that’s happened to me recently. Guess broadcasting myself out to the whole community is a little attention-getting, huh.”

Picking himself up, Sam offered a hand to the woman. “Welcome to my head?”

“Geez, sorry again.” Miku sighed, taking his hand and standing up. “And trust me, I’m aware it’s a problem. Yeah, she’s a construct alright. You ever heard of Chibis? Well, I am the cautionary tale of those getting out of control. Without trying to be too weirdly casual about it? Sheeee’s kind of a full blown mental illness by this point. Not an excuse for letting her just invade your head!” Miku admitted, putting up her hands warily, “But, I’m just trying to convey how very much I did not do this on purpose. I have no idea what she’s up to, most of the time.”

Looking around, Miku sighed, running her hands through her hair. “Anyway, I won’t stay, I can fix this now that I’m aware it’s happening. The ‘pulling me into your head’ thing. But, what is it she’s trying to get me to look at? I only ask because otherwise she’s going to complain all night that I didn’t look at the super cool thing she wanted to show me. Something about magic?”

Sam let out a whistle, the only appropriate response for hearing something that much of a doozy. “Shit, Chibis are like…shared power constructs, right? Or something like that. To be honest, that was kinda breezed over,” he laughed sheepishly before giving her a sympathetic look, “Sucks that you’re people’s warning signs, though. At least she’s really cute? And, I dunno, could be worse vibes to get from a mind-invader.”

Making a sort of ‘oh!’ sound, Sam picked up his headphones, checking them over for a moment to make sure nothing had been damaged when he dropped them. Then, with an excited grin, he showed them to Miku just as he had Amaina. “Aw, that’s sweet that she wanted to share this with you though? I figure it’s different with a construct, but I could see my little brother doing the same thing, along with getting all pouty if I didn’t see it.”

“This is an invention my friends made for me,” Sam explained again, knowing now to bring them back up to his own ears for Miku to actually understand what he was talking about, “There’s basically a little music box in here that I can program and wind up to play automatically, with, like, acoustic foam around the outside so all the sound gets funneled to where my ears are. So it’s hands-free music on the go without noise complaints!”

He gave her a wink. “Definitely magical.”

“Oh, she’s cute alright,” Miku said, rolling her eyes, “And she knows it too. Word to the wise? If she wants to ride in your shirt, she is absolutely just trying to cop a feel. Don’t let her cute fool you, she’s a perv.” 

Though, the younger sibling comparison wasn’t necessarily wrong. Amaina was roughly 16, this year. Which, admittedly, was probably the age to start getting curious about touching chests. But otherwise, she still had strong ‘annoying younger sibling’ vibes that had been going strong for roughly five years now. 

Before that? She was so cute! And manageable! Gah!!

Though, Miku did step forwards, looking curiously at the music box… her eyes widening in delight. “Oh, wow! Wait, wait, wait, can you change out the drum for different songs?” she asked, looking in awe over the contraption, “Like those self-playing pianos you see? Though, wow, the size of it, I can’t even imagine the craftsmanship you’d need to insert the pins you’d need! That’s really impressive! Can I hear it play something?”

“Noted,” Sam snorted, subconsciously closing his shirt up a little more. Look, he didn’t have a lot of shame in his body, but there were certain times you expected to be ogled! Like at the beach! Or in the middle of summer! Or the first keg pop of the season! Not randomly by a construct that snuck into your head. 

“Ha, exactly!” Sam brightened, nodding and beaming with pride as someone got just how amazing Sebastian and Maru’s work was. “The size does mean that you’ll never get something played with low notes, but all the songs we’ve put into it have all sounded fantastic to me. It’s just a matter of driving music by the instrument, you know?”

Nodding, Sam wound his headphones up a bit before letting them go, letting the music play out into his head for Miku to hear. It was a more traditional waltz, one Sam had actually seen transcribed before so it had been easier to make a reel for the headphones. It was mellow, but jaunty enough that it was a favorite for passing the time at work.

“...oh!” Miku’s eyes widened, realizing, “I know your music! You’re the music Empath! The one always putting out the songs? Wow…” 

She gave him a genuinely curious look. “How do you pull that off? I’ve always thought it has to be tough, letting that many people tether to you all at once. Do you not feel it?”

“Eheh~” Sam laughed sheepishly. He hadn’t started doing the broadcast to be famous, but it was starting to feel like that was an effect of it anyway. “Yeah, that’s me, the one and only. Would give you an autograph, if physical things wouldn’t just be something I have to bring home later.”

“Hmm, well, it’s sorta…” Sam squinted, trying to explain, “It’s like when we have those huge meetings, right? I still think what I’m doing might be direct tethers, but it does feel more, like…public than that? I based it off of a Telepath Broadcast, if you know about that.” He gave her a sheepish shrug. “I do get a sense of how many people are around, and, like…super surface, general feelings, though,” Sam laughed brightly, “I have gotten people sending in requests before? Which feels wild! Like I’m some superstar musician. If I know the song, I usually do try to play it.”

“That’s impressive. That you managed to figure that out on your own, I mean. Those huge meetings are hosted by some pretty powerful Empaths,” Miku said, an appropriate amount of respect in her tone as she pointed that out. “Sounds like you’ve found a great workaround though. I wish I could pull off something like that, but I’m pretty low level myself.”

“...wild, out of control construct not-included,” she said dryly. 

“I’ve actually made a request before! It was like a year ago, I would be surprised if you remember it,” she said, suddenly laughing a little as she blushed, “You know the melody ‘Sunny Day in the Flower Field’? This is going to sound so silly, but I requested that one a few times, because I randomly started coming up with really dumb lyrics for it, and I liked having the chance to sing along with the melody.”

She giggled, “It’s reeeaaaal dumb, but I really enjoyed it for a while. Especially singing it in an Empath space? There’s this like…specific sound I really love, when it comes to singing? That I’m really struggling to recreate in the real world.” She said, “Sort of like how a record player sounds, but when it’s not… playing anything.”

“Well, how to adapt it for Empathy was all me, but I did have a Telepath helping me out with getting the concept at all,” Sam clarified, still puffing up with pride but not wanting to steal credit. He didn’t think Ingrid would particularly care, but he had really appreciated her help, and just…being able to talk in person with an older psychic. “But, yeah, I get that. This about tops out my power level, and I really have to concentrate on it.”

Sam smiled fondly. “But it’s super worth it. Getting to do a fun community thing like this, and get to share my music with people? That’s what life’s about!”

Brightening as Miku explained that she’d actually requested a song before, Sam burst out laughing. “That was you?! HA! I was just like, wow, I guess someone really likes this song! It’s a pretty melody so I didn’t mind, but knowing you were singing to it?”

He gave her an encouraging nod, gesturing out. “Care to give me a taste of some of those lyrics?” Though, only a beat later, he registered what Miku had said meant. “Wait!!” he exclaimed excitedly, “Are you a musician too?!”

Miku giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear, before she nodded determinedly. “I am! Well… I try to be,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly, “It can be tough to be a musician full time, but I do songs with a band on the weekends. Sometimes. We all have real jobs too… you know how it is.”

She beamed. “I’ll admit, I was hoping you’d ask. But keep in mind, this was a silly song! Not one of my real songs! I can do real music, I just liked this one and it came to mind always around lunch… ahem.” She coughed, done trying to justify herself, before singing out, “Surely tomorrow the skies will be clearer than today again~ So I won’t let it get me down, If I can laugh and sing, I’m happy~” She blushed in embarrassment at the words, feeling self conscious as she continued out in that same strange, tinny voice, “If I look up at the sky, a big ball of cotton candy floats on by~~”

She swayed side to side, singing, “My stomach is empty again~ Is it luuunch tiiiiime?”

“Yeah…. Yeah.” Sam did know how it was. 

…OH!

Giving the door to the storeroom a quick, nervous glance, Sam hurriedly picked up his broom, but it was telling that he didn’t start sweeping again, just leaning on it as he listened to Miku sing. 

And damn could she sing. She was right, there was a cool, like…distant? Quality to her voice through their mental space, and then her bright tone, vibrant sustain…

Sam laughed brightly, shouldering his broom to woop and applaud, “Five star single right there, just for the relatability! Wow, you’re really good!”

Giving Miku a more sheepish, though welcoming look, Sam mentioned, “Hey, you know, I met another musician like us recently? We’d made plans to get together to jam sometime--would you wanna join? I do like writing lyrics sometimes, but I’m not much of a singer if I don’t have to be.”

“Really!” Miku said, looking IMMEDIATELY excited, eyes popping with–literal–stars… before she cleared her throat, looking away with a self-aware blush as she said, “Uh, y-yeah, I’d love to join an Empath jam session… that’s cool. That’s chill. I’m chill.”

“But it’s neat, isn’t it?” Miku said, suddenly looking very excited, “The way we can fluctuate our voices into sounds that are basically impossible in the real world? That’s true for Empath style music too, you know! Not that I’ve seen any practical examples, but in theory? You could make music that’s faster than anything an instrument could replicate in the real world, including our singing, which could be ten times faster, which makes its own unique little sounds, and we could really, really pitch everything up, like, think the highest pitch you can get on a piano and then double that–”

Miku kept going like that for a while, before, forgetting herself, she started speaking too fast for Sam to reasonably catch up with. Some of her Empath music habits bleeding into her regular speech patterns as she spoke faster and faster and higher and higher.

(All Chibis were oddly musically inclined. There was a theory that the part of the brain that made music possible made Chibis possible too. But the type of music they enjoyed was influenced by their creators, and Amaina’s high energy, fast paced preferences were clearly showing right now.)

“Oooh, I’ve never considered that! I mean, I use dupes of instruments when I broadcast sometimes so it’s a more complete sound, but I never even thought about going further than that! But you’re sooo right. We could come up with entirely new whole genres even!” 

While Sam was just as hyped to talk music with someone else, eventually, even knowing the intent behind Miku’s words, they were starting to blur together a little. Holding up a sheepish hand, Sam chuckled, “Ah, hey, you’re starting to lose me a little. Not your fault, I can barely focus on a good day. A little slower for the uninitiated into cool musical effects?”

“Oh! Sorry!” Miku said, her voice popping back to normal, blushing in sheepish embarrassment again, “Bad habit! I’m actually not all that used to talking to people about my favorite kind of music, so I get a little overexcited. Believe it or not, when other Empaths talk to me, it’s… uuuuusually to warn me Amaina’s up to something.” She said, rolling her eyes a little, “Or to tell me Amaina is acting too independently… or to tell me I need to get her under control… scold me for letting a construct wander around…”

She sighed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “Amaina’s not hurting anyone. Well, maybe me, but I don’t feel hurt. Just inconvenienced sometimes. But everyone who’s telling me I ‘have’ to get her under control or I ‘have’ to return her to base essence doesn’t know what they’re asking of me. She… has friends! I know that’s crazy, but she does! People out there are attached to her! She has, like, this whole life that it would feel really…shitty. To cut short. For no reason.” 

Miku frowned, before she sighed, “I know, I sound crazy. She’s just a construct.”

“Dude, I am all about the excitement! Especially for music!” Sam cheered, “I just wanna be able to listen to you, yeah? You have cool stuff to say, and we’ve only just met!”

Honestly, Sam didn’t really know what to say about constructs in general. He didn’t tend to use them himself, and other than being trained when he first noticed his abilities, and then what happened during his broadcasts, he didn’t talk to a lot of other Empaths. Having a genuine conversation like this with Miku, and Demyx before, was a rarity. 

So he didn’t really know about it in terms of what a construct ‘should’ be…but he did know about being scolded for something that was just a part of you. And…

Sam gave Miku a gentle smile. “...there’s this idea people have where I am? That when you create something, that you put care and intention into, it gains its own life. Not like people think sculptures or scarves are just gonna start walking around,” he laughed, “But more like that creation gains a soul from the care it’s been given? So there’s a level of respect you should show to that spirit, even when it’s the respect for when it’s time to be given away or retired or whatever.”

He shrugged a little. “Amaina might be a construct from you, but even more obviously than a craft project, she’s got her whole being that’s just hers. So I don’t think you sound nuts to respect that.” Sam rolled his eyes a little. “Or to give the fingers to haters that want you to return her to essence. Like, who are they to say what’s right for you?”

Miku briefly winced, like she was afraid Sam’s speech was gearing up to be some roundabout way of explaining to her how she should get Amaina under control–like she said, most of her Empath conversations became that–but she relaxed little by little with every word, giving Sam a wary, uncertain look… before she brightened. “Yeah! Exactly! She’s… she’s a whole thing! A, a…an art thing! A composition! Yeah, like a music composition!” 

“And me and my friend made something beautiful,” Miku said, gripping her hands into fists and gritting her teeth, “We made something that dances and sings and is super cute and randomly saves cities! And sure, she’s a little out of control, but you know what!? The best art is! What right does anyone have to tell me to ‘tone it down’!? I’m a MUSICIAN, DAMMIT! I’ll make any song I WANT! And if people like listening to it when I’m not around, that’s AWESOME!”

Miku huffed, panting after her little speech… before she blushed, self conscious again. “You know. To a reasonable amount! N-not anything super crazy or anything.” 

Smiling at Sam, Miku relaxed a little. “But, yeah, when you and your friend are planning a jam session? Count me in! I’d love to sing!”

“Fuck yeah!!” Sam cheered, raising his broom handle in victory, “You can’t oppress art! It’s a life and legacy beyond the creators, and--” He paused, giving Miku a confused look for a moment as his brain caught up with ‘and randomly saves cities’. 

Though he decided to just laugh it off. “And maybe not throwing you into randos’ minds, but I can’t complain about it this time.” Sam beamed at Miku. “Awesome. I’ll ping ya when we figure out a time? He’s got some sorta responsibility going on, and well,” Sam gestured around to the storeroom, “I do have a day job too, but we’ll figure it out. Ha, I’m so pumped for this!”

“Same, but we’ll figure it out!” Miku said, giving him a thumbs up, “Alright, I gotta run, casserole in the oven! Heh, that’s a lie, but I do have potatoes, and that’s pretty ‘chefy’ for me! It was nice meeting you…oh!!” She blushed. “My name is Miku! What’s your name?!”

“Aw yes, potato night~” Sam laughed, before blushing as well. “Oh, whoops! I’m Sam--it was nice meeting you too, Miku. And Amaina too.”

“Heh, Sam! Cool! Um…” Miku shrugged, grinning, “Bye!” 

And she disappeared. 

…

………..

……………………. O.O

Amaina stared at Sam from the top of his broom again.

Sam snorted a little, amusedly looking at Amaina. “Look, now bringing in Miku is something you could’ve asked about before doing. You can’t catch me on a technicality there.”

Adjusting his headphones, he explained, “I don’t mind if you wanna stick around to listen, but I do have to get back to work. I’m…” he gave a slightly nervous glance back at the door, “a little surprised Morris didn’t barge in to yell at me through any of that. He’s usually got a sixth sense for when I’m not doing a ‘quality Joja employee performance’.”

O.O

Q.Q

QOQ I AM NOT A PERV I AM SMALL AND CUTE SENPAI IS MEAN

QoQ and you should let me ride in your shirt hot music man

OvO and I can listen to music too

O.O

OOO WE CAN BE QUALITY JOJA EMPLOYEES TOGETHER

“You know, I think I’m believing Miku here,” Sam snorted…before giving Amaina a devious grin. “If you stick around, though, we might catch Abby just coming out of the mines, or Alex doing a crazy winter workout, and you can get your kicks there.” He snorted an impish giggle. “Would apologize to Shane for not objectifying him too, but these uniforms really do no favors for anyone.”

O.O

OvO deal.

-

“Okay, but… maybe we should just call the Ouma, just in case?” Axel said, as the group discussed with Ienzo the next stage to his observations of Somebodying them, “I mean, cool, we’re getting to the stage where we might be able to do it ourselves! But the guy’s literally, like, godlike in his abilities. And it still feels like we just barely got through the other somebodyings, you know? Doing it ourselves might be over our heads.”

“I mean, we won’t know until we try, right?” Sora pointed out, kicking his legs cheerfully on the barstool he was sitting on, the group having their meeting around the bar, “Well, until some of us try. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to send everyone in, like we did with Ienzo.”

“We made excellent distractions for Ienzo’s somebodying,” Even pointed out, before scoffing, “And little else, yes. A smaller, more specialized team might be wise.”

Ienzo shrugged, a light flush coloring his cheeks. “Distractions still helped. The more Zexion had to focus on, the less likely he would’ve just nuked everyone, so I’d say that was a success. Though I’m not entirely sure if that was 2’s whole intention. But Sora’s right--we could rely on Prince Kokichi to help all of us, that is what he offered, but I believe it would be most helpful for all our understanding to attempt to break auto-pilot without an all-powerful crutch.”

“It might’ve felt like we barely got through it, but only for a success,” he noted, “So far, there hasn’t been anything stopping us from just leaving if it really seems too far over our heads. We lose nothing by making an attempt, and have quite a lot to gain by not indebting ourselves further, and not having to work around someone else’s schedule.”

Plus, like, the accomplishment of new psychic excellence, but Ienzo knew some of the others weren’t exactly concerned about that. 

“As for a team,” he hummed, “I suppose that deciding who’s going next would determine who would go in, yes?”

“Correct. So…” Kairi looked around, smiling sheepishly, “Any volunteers?”

No hands went up. 

“Come on, guys, it’s not so bad!” Sora said, “It’s just some of our closest friends coming in to brow-beat us for some of our greatest insecurities until we go crazy enough to show cracks in our psychology for everyone else to forcefully break through!”

“...Lad, there’s no way you meant that to be comforting,” Luis said. 

“I just mean it’s not that bad when you really look at it,” Sora said.

“There’s also the potential benefit of apparently our abilities getting more refined after becoming whole, if Demyx’s theory is any evidence,” Kairi said, “That could be fun?”

“Are you volunteering?” Axel asked his little sister, both wary and a little excited. He and Kairi hadn’t talked properly in years.

“Oh, no, that’s a bad idea. We don’t know if the first time trying it ourselves might give us brain damage or something, and I’m too important to the safety of the group,” Kairi said, “...sorry.”

“Brain damage? Who was saying anything about brain damage!?” Dilan said, “Is that a possibility?”

“We haven’t seen this go wrong yet, so…” Even frowned, “...we can’t rule it out?”

“Oh, then Isa should go,” Riku said, his voice soft, but absolutely no doubt in his gentle expression, as he pointed to the man in question, “He’s already brain damaged.”

Isa flinched, looking away uncomfortably. Not saying anything to that.

Aeleus…considered it. After listening to Ienzo analyze their experiments so far, he…had a hunch that his case may be closer to Axel’s than the complete construct model. That wasn’t to say those cases were easier, Ienzo had lost a construct and Zexion had been forced out of Axel’s mind, after all, but with that revelation already known, it could be more straightforward. 

But put bluntly, he didn’t think the others were ready. Aeleus’ mind could be a literal battlefield, and while they all had their chosen fighting styles in the psychic world, seeing all of them fight against Zexion’s constructs? 

They needed more time. To get stronger, hone their abilities. For Sora to potentially develop his keyblade into something more than a figment, for Aqua to be herself, and not have Terra handicapping them by fighting in a style that wasn’t theirs. 

So not this time. 

And as the conversation went on, that pointed to…

“I’m confident that if it looked like we’d be causing harm to one of us, that’d be an indication to stop,” Ienzo thought, before looking to Isa. “But, otherwise… Would you want to, Isa? I’d think that it’d be more difficult than just having Saix track Isa down, but you never know.”

There was a brief pause. Not because Isa was considering it, or trying to avoid it. They knew it was the pause where he was trying to make absolutely certain that he wasn’t about to start growling and barking. It was easy to tell when Isa was trying to get his head right, because he’d stop and start notably swallowing a lot. Like the impulse was something that could be soothed down his throat. 

After a moment, he nodded. “Sure, why not? I actually miss the act of hunting a bit, now that we don’t have an endless list of prey. I could go for a walk up there.”

“Yeah!! Walkies time!!” Demyx crowed.

“Shut the hell up, Demyx!” Axel shouted, Demyx giggling sheepishly as he glared at him, “You’re not coming.” 

“Oh, come on, I was just teasing! Isa knows I’m teasing, right Isa?” Demyx insisted, giving Isa an earnest look, “It doesn’t bother you, right?”

Again, Isa was swallowing a lot. This time it was going less well. Some of the little breaths between swallows clearly half-formed growls.

“Alright, yeah, I won’t go. My bad,” Demyx said, putting up his hands.

“Should I go?” Sora asked, “I mean, I like dogs.”

“You’re not coming either,” Axel sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Anyone who wants to go into this calling Isa a dog? Is not. Helping. I’ve told you all a thousand times! It doesn’t help to point it out all the damn time!”

“Oh dear, what a shame, well, if that’s the criteria, guess I’m out~” Lauriam drawled, getting up now that it seemed the crux of the meeting was over. “Sorry, pooch, maybe another time~” 

Aqua rolled her eyes a bit before looking between Isa, Axel, and Ienzo. “Should I come? Your world is dangerous, Isa, and if you start attacking us like the others, the group might need a way to defend that won’t burn everything to the ground.” It wasn’t cruelly pointed out, as she gave Axel a nod. Not a doubt in her mind that Axel would be going. 

“For clarity, I’m definitely going,” Ienzo said after a moment, figuring that he shouldn’t leave that to an assumption. “My interest in learning about auto-pilots hasn’t diminished just because I’m myself again.”

Isa tried to say yes, gave a little huffy, wet growly sound, before rolling his eyes in exasperation. Just nodding. 

“I’d like to go as well,” Even volunteered, placing his hands properly behind his back, “I’ve wanted to leave the bulk of this research to my son, as I know an aspect of my Nobody nature would be to sabotage his results. However, I feel like his research has gotten to a level where me making wrong or misleading observations couldn’t derail anything of any significance. And I have been very curious to see one of these done.”

“So, that’s Terra for fighting,” Namine said, “Ienzo and Even for research. Axel as the personal touch–”

“Heh. Yeah he does,” Demyx smirked, “OW! COME ON, THAT ONE WAS HARMLESS!”

As Demyx whined and crumbled under Even’s truly brutal ear twists, Axel looked to the rest. “Anyone else wanna come?”

“You know, I don’t know what I can add, but I’ll come as another bit of ‘personal touch’,” Luis volunteered, clapping Isa on the back with a friendly grin, “I like to think you and I have grown close over the years. And while I know we’re not supposed to be making ‘jokes’, I’ve always thought I’ve gotten along pretty well with Saix when he’s gone full beasty, which is probably going to happen, let’s be honest, eh?”

Axel seemed like he wanted to argue for a second… before he shrugged. “Actually, yeah, you have a point. And you are good with him when he goes full wolf. Sure.” 

Ienzo gave Even a mildly surprised look, before smiling slightly. They did tend to have different approaches to projects, different priorities of what was worth pursuing, but Ienzo thought that when they were able to work together, he and Even could accomplish a lot. Having another analytical perspective starting to consider the auto-pilot defenses would be invaluable.

(...and, a bit selfishly, made Ienzo feel a little better to know that someone would be working on that more personal issue, while he focused on his anti-conditioning measures. It was…harder to multitask these days.)

“It sounds like we have a group decided, then,” Ienzo nodded. “Just let us know when you’re ready, Isa.”

Isa swallowed, swallowed, swallowed, “I’m going to go upstairs to at least lay down through it, I think,” he decided, standing up and giving the group a small bow of his head, “Give me, oh, fifteen minutes and then feel free to start piling in.”

“Sure, see you in fifteen!” Axel called, watching Isa head upstairs.

Once he was out of sight, though, he turned to the others. “I swear, guys, if we make this worse? I’m burning the tavern down.”

“Eep!” Sora said, before laughing, “No, I’m kidding. You guys are going to be fine! You’re just going to bail if it starts going badly, right?”

“Besides, it’s not going to get worse,” Riku rationalized, “I mean, he’s basically always been like this.”

“Sure, to you kids,” Luis scoffed, shaking his head as he went behind the counter to pull out a rum, pouring himself a shot. “You didn’t know him before. You know the original reason he picked the ‘wolf’ aesthetic for his Nobody? Because it was so entirely unlike him. It was basically ironic. No one thought there’d be any harm to picking an animal to base their auto on until he stopped being able to entirely function as a person. Boy, did we all learn that one the hard way,” he said, taking the shot with a flick of his head back.

“What was he like before?” Kairi asked. 

“I mean, when he’s totally calm and himself? Mostly he’s the guy you know, even now as a Nobody,” Axel explained, “Stick up his ass, way too formal, acts like he’s better than everyone because he kind of is… but a really strong sense of justice,” Axel sighed, looking away, “A problem solver. If he saw something was fucked up? He had to do something about it. Honorable type…we were friends on the outside. Who knows how the hell I pulled that off, but we were. He was a student studying to be a lawyer. Came from enough wealth to pull that off, though he wasn’t a noble type. His dipshit little sister was a Demyx type. Impulsive, pulling in all sorts of debt, making ‘friends’ with all the wrong people.”

Axel huffed, “I was sent to go collect some of her debts, and it was a serious collection. Like, ‘bury her in a hole’ sort of collection. But I don’t like doing that shit, so when she begged us to talk to her rich law-school brother about it, I took her up on it, dragged her to him, told him she needed to square her debts. Crazy bastard came to talk to the boss himself, and whatever he said worked. Then he watched me get my ass chewed out for not just following orders, and he took me to get a drink as thanks. We were friends after that.”

“...okay, I’ll admit, I can’t imagine Isa doing anything like that,” Sora admitted, “He can barely talk, even when he’s ‘calm’.”

“Like I said, if we make it worse? I’m seriously going to lose it. This guy’s been through enough already, he’s sacrificed enough already. He used to be able to convince rust off of metal. Now he can barely fucking talk… hate that shit.” Axel growled. “He should have never even ended up in the factories. And they totally fucked him up.”

Ienzo crossed his arms, looking to the side. Zexion may have treated some things flippantly, but what happened to Isa wasn’t really…a joke. It was a horror story. Sure, he and Isa could butt heads time to time, but he and Axel had kind of turned into Ienzo’s weird older brothers in the factory. Watching Isa slowly lose his mind--and not so slowly, in one case--had been…

Ienzo just hoped that they really could help. Even if he wasn’t sure if the auto-pilot was…the main issue with some things. 

Well, no way to know but to try.

-

Ienzo sat on the pier of Destiny Island, his eyes closed. A certain air of concentration around him. 

“You good, kiddo?” Terra asked, walking down to the edge of the pier to join him. “Guess Sora, Axel, and Demyx have already done it, but this is your first time doing this as you.”

Ienzo nodded a bit, before opening his eyes. “I was just conferring with Zexion. He’s going to try a method of dormancy so that I might have access to all our energy for this.” He paused, before frowning softly. “...my energy.”

“Hah! We getting little chibo along for the trip?” Axel asked, sitting on one of the pier’s weight bearing poles. While he had never looked dramatically different in Destiny Island than he did in the real world, one small clue that he was whole again was that he had taken away the red triangles decorating his eyes. Something he had worn because he thought it made him a little more intimidating during conditioning sessions. 

“Oooof, why didn’t anyone stop me at the third shot? You all knew we were about to do this and still just watched me drink anyway. Buncha alcoholics, I swear.” Luxord groaned, running his hands over his face, “Perhaps I would have balanced it all out with a fourth shot.”

“Yes, certainly that’s the way to deal with feeling tipsy. Just move right along to feeling drunk,” Vexen scowled, “Truly brilliant.”

“Well, seems like everyone’s here,” Axel said, looking around. “Except for the star of the day… Saix! Saix!” Axel called. 

Luxord whistled, before shrugging at Axel’s bristle. “What? He might hear a whistle better.”

“No, by a ‘method of dormancy’, I mean that he’s not manifesting,” Ienzo explained, before furrowing his brows and putting a hand to his chin, “Though I suppose you could make an argument that, since he is a part of me and divesting a certain manner of consciousness to me, he is around, because I am? That makes more sense in the physical world, but it’s a little more convoluted here. For example, my consciousness is not split between Destiny Island and what I would consider a personal space, but the fact that there’s a distinction between those things--”

“Alright, slow your roll a little, we get what you mean,” Terra laughed lightly. “You’re putting in as close to 100% as you can get. Nice to see it! And without Ouma here, we might need it.”

Sighing a little after Luxord’s whistle, Ienzo got up. “Maybe we should just go to his door? There’s not as much of a need for introduction since it’s just us this time.”

“Yeah, maybe he expected us to just head to his mind right away. Alright, let’s go,” Axel said, hopping off the pole and heading down the beach. 

Saix’s area was one of the, visually, easier to get to places, but physically, had a pretty heavy lock to keep conditioned people who were resting from literally just walking right back into his space. Rather than a knob, Saix’s door had to be pushed in, and if he didn’t want you in? The weight of it wouldn’t budge. 

But, because Saix’s entrance was more fortified and less hidden, it was also the one spot in Destiny Island that looked a little… off. A large, uneven paneled wall of wood that was rough to the touch and chipped in places to suggest it might have been slashed at one occasion, you could peek in between the wood panels to see nothing but pitch darkness between the trees that the wall hid behind it. It wasn’t an inviting part of the island, tucked off into its farthest corner and even at its most generous giving the sense that it might have been built as a cage more than a section to explore. 

But, the Nobodies knew what was behind the door, and weren’t disturbed by its ominous presence as Axel pushed his way in, the group heading inside to the pitch black area.

It took a little bit of walking, but soon sunlight started to break into between the leaves of the densely thick forest. And, as they walked, it seemed like the sun rapidly began to set. 

Once the moonlight was out, they knew they had successfully walked into Isa’s mind. 

“Saix!” Axel called out as they walked, “Saix, buddy! Come on, pull it together! Come meet us!” 

Unlike a lot of the other Nobodies, Saix wasn’t actually dramatic for its own sake. For a lot of them, the melodrama and theatrics was part of how they had managed to separate that side of themselves as fully as they had, and so melodrama was a part of the Nobodies’ existence. 

Saix wasn’t putting on a performance when they found him standing in front of a lake, caught up in looking at the moon on its surface. He had just genuinely gotten distracted. Looking back at them in startled bewilderment as they approached, like in the mere twenty minutes that had passed he had forgotten their goal for the day, more confused why there were people in his forest than anything… before he seemed to recall the earlier events, looking embarrassed as he cleared his throat. “Oh, uh… yes. Welcome. I’m pleased you let yourselves in.”

Ienzo had never seen a real coniferous forest. He wasn’t sure Isa had either, and even if he had, there was some amount of imagination that had gone into Isa’s world. Still, there were aspects of the giant forest that Ienzo genuinely liked, despite his usual distaste for the outdoors. It was beautiful, for one, and if Saix wasn’t conditioning, it could be quite peaceful. More than once Ienzo had summoned some of the books from his own world to read in a different setting…and to not be found by the others, knowing Isa wouldn’t say anything unless someone directly asked. 

…the woody smell could be a little overwhelming. And sometimes the sense of woodland critters going about was startling. But mostly, in idle moments the forest was nice. 

Idle being the operative word. 

Giving Saix a small nod, Ienzo summoned his Lexicon and skimmed through it, a visual representation of him going over what they knew about getting by auto-pilot defenses. “Often, Prince Kokichi started by asking about the ‘safe space’ concept he spoke about the first time we met, but for the most part, it seems our original egos are connected by a concept that is important to us. Likely something sentimental--Sora with the puzzles he used to put together, Demyx by the personal connections he makes with music. Axel was an outlier, but that was because his ego didn’t need to be ‘found’.”

Ienzo glanced up, giving Axel a small nod. “You’ve already been right in front of us. So I suppose the first thing to consider is…” He looked up at Saix now. “...I’ll be honest, it seems rather sophisticated if your ‘wolf’ aspect is an aid. But it does react to emotional stimuli, like Axel’s.”

“Yes,” Saix said, slowly, like he was sounding out the word to make sure he had it… before, feeling more confident, he nodded, “I did consider that myself. Considering how my mentality shifts when I’m conditioning, it might be possible my wolf is an aid and not a…”

Saix frowned, licking his lips. A brief look of frustration on his face, as he looked around the woods. “...no one else came in with you, yes?” he said, a tad uncertainly. Staring out between the darkness of the trees. 

This was not unusual. “No, man, still just us. You’re picking up the sound of your critters,” Axel half explained, half reminded Saix. 

Saix, especially, could be a little paranoid, in a general sort of way. When they had first been told to leave the factories? They had almost had to physically drag Saix out. He had been convinced it was some sort of setup, and had regressed to full wolf by the time the guards had declared that they either make him leave or they were just going to lock him in and leave him to the building. Luis, to his credit, had been the one to lure him out…again, leaning into his influence on Saix’s wolf side. It had taken a while for Saix to come back.

But Saix just nodded, relaxing a little. “Right,” he said, before looking to Ienzo. “Should I pull out my wolf side? I’ll be considerably less helpful once I do, but it would be foolish to keep him hidden just to keep me coherent.” 

If the wolf was an aid…well. They might have to be more careful with experimentation. The way Kokichi had helped Axel was through brute force, a method that just wasn’t open to them. Ienzo did consider that it might be a matter of Saix compartmentalizing the wolf into a different form ‘outside’ of himself, then, but if it was something that Saix had thought about himself? Then he’d likely tried. 

“I dunno if I’d say that,” Terra mused, “Your wolf’s senses for psyche stuff is better than any sensor method any of us had. Heh, you managed to find Ienzo last time, after all! If Isa is here separate from you, you might have a better chance finding him that way.”

“A good point,” Ienzo nodded, before looking back to Saix, “And it has also seemed that trying to ‘rein ourselves in’ so to speak, is counterproductive to freeing our egos, so if you’re feeling the impetus to go wolf? I’d say that might well be our first step.”

“Alright,” Saix said, admittedly looking a little… ‘accepting’ was the correct word, but in the sense that he seemed to be accepting he was about to do something that might not lead to much. Axel realized right then and there that Saix didn’t really think they could make him whole. That he was just going along with it because Riku had volunteered him. 

That was alright. Saix didn’t have to believe he could be helped. They’d figure it out anyway. 

Saix looked up, staring at the moon. Getting his head right…before with a growl, his bones snapped and cracked beneath his skin, the transformation process of him turning into a wolf always disturbingly loud. 

“Ugh. Never love that part,” Luxord admitted, before grinning, his face red tinted as he said, “Heeeey, c’mere boy! Let me see you, it’s been a minute!” 

Vexen scoffed, “I feel like we made a mistake bringing you, Luxord.”

But, the wolf–a massive, shaggy haired blue beast, with golden eyes that almost bled into a blood orange in the right lighting–just stared in bewilderment at Luxord as he called him… before his massive tail wagged a little. Getting up and walking towards him, and still with that mildly confused expression, sitting at his feet.

“Eyyyy, there we go. Such a good wee beastie,” Luxord cooed, squatting down to pet the wolf's head. 

“You’re right, this was a mistake,” Axel whispered to Vexen, who nodded.

Ienzo cringed a little. It’d never been pleasant, but there was something a little more visceral Ienzo found about watching Saix transform this time. Something that made Ienzo wonder. Even if it made logical sense that a complete shift of form would entail the breaking of bones and morphing of muscles…they were the ones who made the rules in their minds. That’s what being an Empath was. So the fact that Isa had kept that logic… Maybe it had just made sense to him to have such an obvious change, when he used his greatest conditioning tool. 

Snorting a little as Luxord got comfy, Terra shook his head before speaking up. “You think you can pick up on anything, Saix? Anything out here that’s over-specifically you?”

Saix sniffed, his big, wolf eyes rolling to Terra next. 

There… wasn’t a lot going on in there. 

They knew Saix could still understand them. He’d follow orders. And he could condition in this form, which meant he was capable of thinking, in that he could recognize when his job was done and when he needed to up the pressure or lower it. 

But Saix almost exclusively did obedience conditioning and, occasionally, location conditioning. Essentially, general obedience, which almost any Indentured in any career track needed at least some of, was Saix’s usual process, but if you had an Indentured who, for whatever reason, needed to stay within certain parameters or follow certain pathways without flaw or distraction when ordered? Saix was who was assigned to you. These career tracks, depending on who they were being catered to, either housekeepers that were being doubled as reliable guards for specific rooms or items, or assassins who strictly worked security against other assassins. 

If you wanted them to stay. Saix made them stay. 

But that sort of conditioning didn’t need a lot of complicated thought, at least not by the time he was reinforcing parameters in wolf form. So right now, Saix wasn’t at his most coherent. 

Still! He knew what Terra was asking! Sniff! Find Saix! Find the Saix smell! The Isa smell! Seek! Hunt!

Saix looked around, his empty, wide eyes rolling as he sniffed the air. Sniff Sniff. Sniff.

He looked up at the moon and HOWLED.

Vexen looked up at the moon as well. “...I can’t fly here. Can anyone else fly here? Saix’s rules don’t allow flight. This might be an issue.”

“Good boy, good boy! You’ve got the scent, huh?” Luxord encouraged, scratching between Saix’s ears, “Alright, lead the way! I’m sure there’s a way up there, if that’s where you are!”

“Yeah, that would make sense. It might just be convoluted to get there,” Axel said, “Sora was hidden in a specific alley, beneath a large sheath of glass, inside a different, lower, large sheath of glass. If Isa’s up in the moon? The pathway there could just be as nonsensical.”

Saix wasn’t really listening to any of this. He was just sniffing the right pathway, before taking off. Running through the woods. 

“Ugh, I wish I could fly here. Or at least hover,” Vexen groaned, following the others as they ran after the wolf.

“...oh, that’s rather poetic,” Ienzo softly hummed, as he looked up at the full moon as well. Saix’s wolf form wasn’t exactly, always based on the concept of a werewolf, but it was very connected with those stories. So for Isa to be the moon that inspired change in the wolf…well, it was all there, wasn’t it.

Though getting to the moon could be another story. Literally. 

Taking off after Saix, Terra’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Didn’t you guys say that Sora was in the glass? Like, as part of the mosaic? If Isa is the moon, I think we might need to get creative. ‘Old Man Yells at Rock’ doesn’t seem that inspiring, does it.”

“Why do I have to yell at it? I’m merely meant to be observing at this stage,” Vexen scoffed, “And ultimately, Empath rules are always at best suggestions when it comes to physicality. If we can get Saix to the point where he’d believe the moon would crack? It would. The manipulation needs to occur to the Empath, not their environment.” 

“Unless you’re Ouma,” Axel corrected.

“Well, fine, unless you have the physical ability to literally alter a person’s mindset by forcefully changing the environment yourself, fine, the rules work differently then. But for us? We have to negotiate with Saix, we can’t ‘blow up the moon’,” Vexen said, rolling his eyes, “Sorry we aren’t all top-level Empaths, we must simply make due.” 

“I hope the wee beast isn’t just having us run in circles,” Luxord pointed out as they ran through the woods, “Don’t forget, part of his conditioning practice was exhausting his prey. He might just be running us around cause he knows we’ll follow.”

“Nah, he’s not that lost. Saix knows what we’re doing, and even when I was feeling the affects of leaning into my Nobody side in my world, I never entirely forgot what we were doing,” Axel explained. “It was more like I knew that the more I leaned into my conditioning stuff, the easier it’d be to find the part of me that let me do it. It felt like an instinct, to be my most vicious self, to find that piece of me.”

“Fascinating. From the stories, I had assumed you were all being caught up just in the emotions of the experiment, but the theory that to make oneself whole, you’d instinctively lean into your most Nobody suited environment… I have a theory about how our conditioning worlds work now. Would anyone be interested to hear?” Vexen said.

“Ugh,” Luxord muttered, rolling his eyes, “Can’t just tell us? Have to make one of us grovel?”

Terra snickered a bit. Hey, Vexen said it, not him~ And while Vexen’s crotchety complaining rarely achieved what it was meant to, it usually got some reaction. Though in that case, it might just make Isa ignore them even more. 

Ienzo, not out of breath from mental running, still flushed a bit. Saix might not be running them in circles, but Zexion had definitely tried. Though, 2 had been there to counterbalance that… And for that matter-- “...it might pay to consider other motives, still,” he mumbled embarrassedly, “It might’ve just been a ‘me’ thing, but when you guys got to the room I was in? Zexion wasn’t just leaning into ‘his most vicious self’.”

Ienzo glanced down, his expression pinching slightly with embarrassment. “...he explained it to Maki, when Kokichi separated him from me. If you’d relentlessly tried to get near me, he would’ve legitimately tried to hurt you.”

Though, in the same breath, Ienzo said, “Very much. Please explain your theory.”

“Well, he’d have hurt us as much as you can be hurt in the worlds,” Axel stressed, “Which, as we all know, is less hurt and more…”

“Life-long trauma?” Luxord offered. 

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t have been traumatized, we’re used to it,” Axel said dismissively.

“Think that might be your trauma talking there, lad,” Luxord snickered.

“Ahem,” Vexen said, in that tone of voice that suggested he’d quite like to be the center of attention now, thank you. “Our worlds have always been smoothed out by our primary conditioning styles. Roxas liked to make people feel lost in a frightening place, forced to use their wits and intelligence at his command. Axel used those… adequate fire tunnels. Demyx’s far too over the top stage–”

“Professor, please, can we summarize? We know why our worlds functioned the way they did.” Axel sighed.

“Ah, yes, but what I mean by that, is that I actually think the original, primary purpose of these worlds we create when we become Nobodies, is to work as eggs. Protective barriers, separating us from the rest of the mind while our Nobodies or Aides developed.”

“Okay… so?” Luxord asked, looking over his shoulder. “What’s your point there?”

“It’s actually more important when one considers Demyx’s claims that he feels like he has more access to his Empath abilities now that he’s whole,” Vexen explained, “Has no one else ever thought that our mental worlds seem small? Extremely self-contained. Most of us have no real experience exploring other people's minds, and when we condition we pull others into ours, allowing them to internalize the trauma within their own mindscapes without us doing the difficult work of figuring out how it’ll all fit inside and work in practice.”

“Okay… are you saying something like we’ve sort of… lobotomized ourselves?” Axel asked. 

“That’s a word for it,” Vexen said, nodding, “But it feels particularly useful to point out now, since I am certain we’ve passed that tree more than twice now. I think it might be difficult to notice because of the nature of these woods… but I think, now that I’m really running through it, Saix’s world is incredibly small.”

The group came to a halt there. Everyone looking around, as Saix stopped as well, looking back to see why the group had stopped running with him. They were supposed to follow the smell, yes? Come on! 

“...we haven’t passed the lake again,” Axel noted, looking around, “... but if we’ve been running in circles around it, I wouldn’t have noticed.” 

That wasn’t…entirely true. As much as it might’ve been his intent, Ienzo knew that he just didn’t have the raw power needed to…actually have Zexion be able to act on killing intent. But being forcefully booted from someone’s mind could hurt. And…they were always connected, and the brain was a physical thing. Something that Ienzo had been experimenting with in that lens for months, at that point.

It didn’t help the feeling of shame, but Ienzo was grateful it just hadn’t gotten to that point. 

Terra frowned as Vexen explained his theory. It did follow their experiences--the Nobodies did feel other to their original selves, as had been the purpose. And…to prevent bleedover, it made sense for there to be even more of a border. But how that applied now…

“Alright, hold on. Let’s try…” A rope appeared in Terra’s hands, and he handed one end of it to Axel before he started walking perpendicular to the direction they’d been running. “If I end up behind us, then Saix’s world is shifting perspective. If I see the lake, then we’ve just been going around it.”

Axel took the rope end, giving Terra a nod, as the group waited. The man running off into the woods. 

It was actually laughable, how quickly he showed up on the other side. Not much more than a minute passing by the time they had stopped hearing his footsteps, before those footsteps started appearing on the other side, Terra coming out of the dark. 

The woods were more than just small. It was basically the size of a large room.

“...THAT’S WHY!” Axel suddenly shouted, eyes wide, “I’ve let Saix chase me around in here for fun before, and it was like he could teleport! Which he doesn’t do in any of our other worlds, just here. I assumed it was just the rules of his world, and I guess that’s kinda true, but it’s just because he barely has to keep an eye on you or move, he just always knows where you freaking are!” 

“Indeed… and its size, if my ‘lobotomy’ theory is correct, could be why our Isa struggles so much, cognitively,” Vexen said, looking around, “He’s allowing himself way less access to the rest of his mind than the rest of us, presumably, are. It would be like if Ienzo had tried to use his body, but strictly from that organ room of his. Zexion and the others had access to the rest of Ienzo’s mind, Ienzo would have only been able to draw from that room.” 

“Okay, so should we assume Saix has been leading us in circles on purpose, or… maybe the pup can’t figure out how to get closer to his scent, because in theory, his scent is just right up there. The entire time,” Luxord said, pointing up to the massive moon.

Ienzo frowned worriedly, Vexen outlining the conclusion of such a small space clearly. It wasn’t just Saix struggling with a mental perspective that didn’t communicate through words. It was him with a fraction of the mental space to do anything in. And the rest of him…

“Ah geez… I was expecting a little more than that,” Terra said, rubbing the back of his neck, the length of the coiled rope in his hands making that point as well. “But, well, if it was a matter of Saix not knowing how to get closer, we kinda knew that from the start, right? Everything in here has gotta smell like him. But he was able to pick something up, so…” Terra trailed off, not really sure what that meant himself. 

…it’d be like Ienzo trying to… Ienzo’s eyes narrowed as he thought. He’d tried to keep in mind that his own circumstances might be an outlier, but if they were drawing comparisons now… Ienzo had hidden himself in a small, secret space, too scared and hurt to even try to come out, after a while. All the layers built up to obfuscate that were…a trauma response. If Saix had been making the part of him that was cognisant smaller and smaller as…a trauma response, then the rest of his mind…

Ienzo licked his lips nervously before closing his eyes. Focusing. Trying to feel out the physical bounds of the mind he was in. Assessing the damage of Isa’s mind more mechanically than metaphor. 

Empath problems require Empath solutions.

(And it wasn’t the Nobodies’ fault, or the Somebodies’ fault, that they didn’t know a lot of ‘Empath’ solution techniques. They had grown up in a closed circle where the main focus on Empath abilities was creating very specific trauma and very thorough disguises. The technical aspects of what being an Empath was was learned within the group mostly through trial and error, and wasn’t always successfully passed down or explained to the others when someone did figure out some technical aspect of their abilities.)

(But Ienzo was different. Ienzo had been studying hard, Empath abilities and what they really, physically manifested as.)

(What Alter Ego had taught Kokichi once as a way of passing on information they themselves had been told, Ienzo was recreating. Raw.)

As Ienzo’s energy expanded within the space, it very quickly started hitting walls on all sides. The room was a closed circle rotating around a center, but that center inverted, like a bagel. Everything that wasn’t the forest spun around that center, but if you went to the center, everything that wasn’t the forest was all in the exact same spot. That empty, inverted center.

Visually, this was impossible to figure out as you wandered the forest. The second you wandered away from the lake, you were caught in the circle that never naturally returned to its empty center. But if you specifically sought out the lake, and could feel it the way an Empath could… it became blatantly clear that the moon in the sky was just a reflection, or a visual trick, to seeing the actual moon in the lake as if it was at a distance. The sky reflecting the lake, not the lake reflecting the sky. 

Ienzo was different from Zexion in some key ways. He was more emotive, more sensitive, when he sought out others’ problems, it was more out of concern for them, rather than an abject sense that he should listen, or that that information may come in handy one day. But for most of his life, they had been two halves of a disjointed whole, and that had only gotten more muddled and confusing as more constructs were made and Zexion took over more and more of their life. 

That was to say, some things really hadn’t changed at all. 

Feeling the torus around them, Ienzo took off sprinting. Not relying on sight, as he got back to the lake, and without hesitation jumped in. 

“Oh shit!”

“Woah!” 

“Oop, lad’s off!”

“He’s got something! He’s got something and he’s surprisingly fast! Aeleus will be so pleased!”

But only Saix was able to keep up with Ienzo, the man’s sudden movement seeming impossibly quick to the others, almost like he was teleporting… because Ienzo, like Saix, suddenly understood how the dimensions of this world actually worked. 

But the wolf just stood at the edge of the lake and watched as Ienzo sank down, down, down… his big, empty eyes disappearing as the light in the water grew too bright around Ienzo. His quick descent into the moon–whose gravity had caught him and was rapidly pulling him in–lighting up so bright around him that for a moment he was blind, only his Empath senses letting him know he was phasing into another spot in Isa’s mind.

One even smaller.

When Ienzo’s vision came back, the environment would be immediately familiar. He was in the factory’s ‘quiet room’. The one with walls covered in specially carved sigils, that essentially muffled Empath abilities to the point of being useless. It was where you were put, when the Supervisors wanted to separate you from the other Empaths in the factory. Sometimes it was just an isolation room. Too often, it was where they felt the most comfortable punishing the Empaths, when they didn’t want the others to know how the punishment was going.

Isa was sitting next to the wall, looking at the sigils on the walls. Mindlessly tracing his eyes over them, again and again and again.

He had, after a while, thought the sigils kinda looked like moons. 

“....” Isa stared at the moons some more, memorizing the looping ways they were carved, all the little ‘stars’ both in and around them, “........... oh.”

It took him a while to notice Ienzo was there. 

He just stared at him. 

Ienzo couldn’t help the flinch, once the light faded and he could see again. He didn’t really mind claustrophobic spaces, but this one… He couldn’t help but hold his shoulder as he looked around a room he’d been more than happy to leave behind when they stepped out into freedom.

It was concerning that this was where Isa was. 

Ienzo stared back at Isa. 

“...hi.”

“...did you know that topographically speaking, tori have two holes?”

“...” Isa stared at Ienzo… before he nodded his head slowly. “I did know that. Have you ever seen it drawn out? It’s hard to really convey the way the surface moves without it just sort of looking like you’re trying to draw a ba–”

Isa froze, listening. 

Outside the door of the room, there was sudden laughter and the sound of heavy boots. The supervisors passing by. Hopefully passing by. It was bad if the sound of their steps stopped in front of the door…

…but the footsteps kept going and he relaxed, looking tired. “...sorry, I can’t remember what I was trying to say…we weren’t talking about bagels, right? Shapes, we were talking about shapes…”

But even as he recalled the conversation, Isa kept staring nervously at the door. Waiting to see if the footsteps would double back. Clearly struggling to focus on anything other than how nervous he was. 

For some shapes it made sense, but for others, only seeing diagrams of three-dimensional shapes was infuriatingly unintuitive. Describe a torus, ask any given person how many holes it had, and most would likely say one. Right there, right in the center. To think about it in a different context meant disregarding that ‘common sense’ thinking to take on entirely different paramet--

Ienzo flinched again, his breath catching as he saw Isa freeze and heard the footsteps outside the door. This was Isa’s mind, even if he had created something that could hurt, they really did have more power than a figment…

But all the reasoning in the world didn’t stop the impulses that had been developed for over a decade, even if they were no longer there. 

Ienzo let out a shaky breath, before regarding Isa uncertainly. “...I mentioned it, because that’s the shape of your ‘world’ right now. And we’re currently in the center sphere it surrounds.”

Ienzo gave the door a distasteful, uneasy look. “...I guess mine wasn’t much of a ‘safe room’ than a prison either.”

“...I know I’m supposed to be outside,” Isa said, curling his knees to his chest and resting against them, staring warily at Ienzo, “Maybe you’d understand. It’s not like I can’t see what Saix is doing. It’s not like I’m truly, entirely separate from the rest of me, like your father’s suggesting. I don’t think I could actually exist without having access to all three layers.”

“...but this place is the only place that feels real,” Isa whispered, looking around nervously. “...I think… I think this place is fake. And you’re real. And I’m currently staring at ripples in a lake. And I’m currently trying to breach the walls of the ‘egg’ as Vexen put it. I think that’s real.”

“But a part of me thinks I might be hallucinating,” Isa whispered, glancing at the door, “Or, caught up in a daydream. And the second I really let myself believe in the daydream, that’s when they’re going to come back. And it’s going to be worse when they do. I don’t want to believe in a fantasy again. It’s so much worse, to be caught unaware, just when you think it’s all going to be okay…”

Ienzo sighed softly and sat down across from Isa, crossing his arms over his stomach. He had been…somewhat aware. For a long time, at least, it wasn’t like Ienzo couldn’t know what his body was doing or what any of his constructs were up to--the ability for them all to seamlessly share information had been vital to him. It was just…he hadn’t cared what his body was doing. Nothing in the physical world had been important. How could it be, when there was more information than someone could synthesize in a lifetime, in an eternity in the psychic realm?

But if he had to, he knew what was going on. And sometimes stuff filtered down anyway. 

“...that’s fair,” Ienzo said quietly, glaring at the symbols on the walls. “I couldn’t be here, if not for our tether, which this room prevented, at least meaningfully. But if I’m wholly a delusion, then…that solves that logic.”

Ienzo gripped onto the end of his jacket. “...it’s been like this since your escape attempt, hasn’t it.”

Isa took a deep, frightened breath, as he whispered, “But that was a long time ago. It was a long time ago, and it’s not happening anymore, and they did let you out and…”

He went quiet, eyes wide with worry, as more sounds happened outside of the door. The quiet room was very near the supervisors’ break room. That was another reason you had to whisper, you had to be quiet. If you shouted and made a bunch of noise, a whole group of suddenly very pissed off supervisors would suddenly be ‘off break’. 

Isa’s escape attempt had been a spectacle. And it had been designed to be a spectacle. 

Or, rather… it had been designed to be a bet. 

The supervisors entertaining themselves with how far Isa could get, before he realized what was going on. 

“...I had a different Nobody,” Isa said, “Or, maybe it’d be more accurate to say Saix used to be more human than wolf. He was mean and calculating and thought he was incredibly clever. He thought he was so smart.” 

“He put me in this room, because he didn’t have the mental energy to imagine anything better, after a while,” Isa said, looking around, “I don’t actually remember them coming in much. I just existed while we waited, and when they came in, at first he dealt with it… but he eroded away. And after a while, it was just the wolf.” Isa blinked. “I think they thought it was funny. That they could frighten me so much that I just started howling and barking and biting. I think that’s one of the reasons they kept me in here so long, actually. Until the novelty wore off.”

“It was a long time ago, and we’re out of the factory,” Ienzo agreed, whispering back. 

…it had been terrifying. Ienzo had been told stories of other breakout attempts, as all the older Empaths did for newbies to warn them off it, but being around when it had happened to Isa? 

Vexen had told him that doing ‘overtime’ wasn’t going to make them go any easier on Isa. Ienzo hadn’t said anything about it, but he just hadn’t been able to sleep. Terrified that there just…wouldn’t be anyone coming out of the ‘quiet room’. 

Ienzo scowled, glaring at the ground. “...wish they’d actually gotten infections when you bit them. It’s a miserable way to go. Just the delirium from fever can be worse than physical pain.”

Isa laughed quietly, before warily looking at the door. 

“...I can’t… handle any more,” the man admitted, closing his eyes. His voice still a whisper. “I didn’t think I could be broken like this. Not the ‘Isa’ me, not the ‘Saix’ me. Not even the wolf. If you had asked me, before, what it would take to break me, I’d have said so much more. I thought…”

Isa sighed, peeking his eyes open. “I thought I was wise to even concede I wasn’t indestructible. When I started to look into the factories to see… why some people weren’t coming out. Why Axel hadn’t come out. I thought I was wise to recognize that I was looking into laws that no one cared about seeing enforced, that powerful people wanted no one to care if Indentureds were being abused even past the laws we had put into place, I knew I wasn’t ‘indestructible’. But I was still surprised… how quickly they found a reason to arrest me. How quickly I was put into the system. The way they laughed, when they said, ‘lucky you, you’re about to know exactly why they don’t come out.’”

Isa blinked, licking his lips. “...but I still wasn’t beaten. If anything, I felt stronger. I had never realized I had these abilities, until I was imprisoned for them. No wonder, it felt like I just ‘knew’ what people were thinking. No wonder I always ‘knew’ what to say to convince someone of something… Axel warned me, that I was overconfident. But even knowing I had been given this unfair advantage my whole life, I still thought I was some master manipulator, able to talk people into circles, spin stories around their heads. I still thought my ability to negotiate and lie and manipulate would work for me, in a place where Supervisors all wore the moon around their necks…”

Isa stared at the sigils. Briefly getting lost in the circles. His eyes tracing them. Looping, looping, looping… before he smiled tiredly. “I thought I was humble. Self-aware. That’s how narcissistic I was, how grande and strong in my mind I was. That even just acknowledging I wasn’t invincible was somehow a concession I had to make. How stupid… they used my pride against me. My certainty that I was smarter than them. They made a game of it. And when they decided to break me, it took so… so little.”

“Now I actually know better,” Isa said softly, “And I’m afraid.”

…to be honest, Ienzo had thought Isa was stupid, when they met. When the new Empath had been brought in, and Axel knew him? And in their usual trade of stories about how they’d been caught, Isa had admitted to looking into the factories? Ienzo had thought he was an idiot. Who purposefully involved themselves with the factories at all?! The program was so obviously coated in bright red warning tape that anyone poking around anyway had to be stupid. 

But Ienzo had been a young teen with basically no peers his age and enjoyed feeling smart. 

It was an intellectual bravery, to look where no one else was, and compassion, to be spurred into it by a friend. It was…hopeful to know that there was someone who had cared about the group of people that disappeared off the end of the earth, even a little, and even if it had just doomed them too. 

Ienzo smiled faintly at the floor. “...even with an advantage you hadn’t known about, I still think your manipulation abilities were exceptional. I’d never seen Viz so happy, as when you convinced the supervisors to let her spend the day outside for her 70th.”

It just…had been hubris in a big way that mattered too. 

And Ienzo couldn’t talk with Isa through things logically because…he was right to be afraid. His fears of being betrayed and hurt were things that did happen out in the world. It was scary. It was…

“...I feel like I’m going to throw up all the time now,” Ienzo said, staring at the floor. Sweating a little. “I’d forgotten how much everything smells, even if we did cover that point. But I really hope I never actually do, because if I have to experience vomiting, I think I’m going to freak out.” Ienzo sweated a little more. “Using the bathroom again is not as simple as I thought it was going to be. And I feel bad taking as many showers as I already do, even if we have the money for soap steadily now, because I’m always worried about the day the water stops going through, but, but, did you know you can actually feel grime settling on your skin? Just ambiently? There are so many things that just feel bad.”

“And everything’s so quiet. Sometimes I just have to leave the room I’m in, which people don’t really comment on because they’re used to my constructs making sudden decisions about where we should be, but it’s not arbitrary, it’s just that I’m freaked out by how quiet everything is and I want to scream and never stop just to fill that space. And I’m glad Demyx is a weirdo because I feel like a freak just…touching him a lot? Because I feel so…isolated, physically.” Ienzo took a shaky breath. “And I still have trouble sleeping because I’m still…”

“So scared. Of everything changing when I wake up.”

He hadn’t done it on purpose, but Ienzo was white-knuckling his shirt, shoulders hunched in as he stared at the floor. 

“...but even so, I’m glad I’m out there again. And the others make it so much easier. They make it easier to not be as scared, and…to have faith things will be okay even when I am.”

Isa frowned as he watched Ienzo tighten and tighten. This clearly having been on the boy’s mind, even as he tried to relate to Isa’s problem. This was just something he had needed to talk about. Outside of helping Isa. Outside of anything. 

Quietly, Isa shuffled over. Sitting beside Ienzo, before just leaning his shoulder against him.

“...I think a part of me is just afraid that I’ll leave this spot, this moment, and something worse will be just around the corner,” Isa admitted, “There’s something almost freeing about being in your absolute worst moment. I feel it outside all the time, that tension of just waiting and waiting and waiting for something to happen, like I do in here… but in truth, the moments I relax the most are the moments where they’re right outside. And I think they’re about to come in. And it’s finally happening again… then I can breathe. Just for a second. Like all the tension leaves me all at once, because at least I’m not waiting anymore.”

“...but maybe wallowing in my worst moment isn’t the best way to not be afraid of what comes next,” Isa admitted, “I don’t think I can shake this room or what happened in here or the factory. Not really. Not like this, by choosing to. But… I can admit that I’ve been avoiding having to think about the future this way. I leave most things to you guys. I barely talk. I let the wolf socialize more often than I do.”

“And more, I knew this was coming. This conversation,” Isa said, smiling lightly at Ienzo, “You’ve been working hard to make sure this conversation happened someday for months now. I knew it was eventually going to be my turn. That I’d have to come out of here. I’m sorry I made you come in here to chase me. It was just too hard to leave by myself.”

“I don’t think you’re alone in having a bunch of weird new little… things. Wanting to be clean, feeling overwhelmed. I think yours are going to be a little more obvious than a lot of us, because your ‘egg’ was also pretty extreme. But I think we’re all going to be struggling to be people again. Whole or not,” Isa said, “...except Sora I guess? Though, we all as a group might want to keep an eye on his schedule. I grew up around workaholics, I know a budding one when I see one. That boy won’t stop moving unless we make him.”

“I can’t promise I’ll leave here and suddenly be more talkative or less paranoid. I’m not even sure I can walk out of here and stop feeling like a dog sometimes,” Isa admitted, frowning, “I think that’s just something I’m going to have to work through. Hopefully with less barking.”

Ienzo let out a slow, careful breath, leaning against Isa’s shoulder in turn. With logos not an option, and ethos basically negligible, pathos became the answer, but, uh… That had been a bit more than Ienzo had meant. Maybe it was the stress of being back in this room, the empathy hearing Isa’s fears, maybe it was just something he had needed to tell someone. But…well, it did still make his point. 

It was scary out there. 

But that was okay. Sometimes it wasn’t scary, and that was better than it being scary all the time in here. 

There was some comfort in anticipation, the release of it, even when it was terrible. The predictability was better than never knowing when the shoe would drop otherwise, and for a random effect. …but it wasn’t life. 

“I do understand needing to be fetched,” Ienzo said, returning Isa’s smile. “And knowing it’s coming doesn’t make it any easier. If we knew how to get out otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing any of this, so you don’t need to apologize to me for that.”

Ienzo grimaced a bit at the fact that even ‘whole’, they would have a new batch of troubles in adjusting to be ‘people’ again, but…well, that was the future they’d chosen. And it was something they could actually make progress in, unlike their Nobodies. 

“I think you should still get to bark sometimes, for fun,” Ienzo softly mused, “It does get people to shut up when you’re really aggressive about it. But if people still have to pull my body around places, then I think you have the leeway to work on your stuff too.”

Ienzo blinked, before looking up. “...speaking of… I’m a little surprised none of the others jumped in after me. I’m not that much more impulsive.”

“Oh, they’re probably struggling to find the lake,” Isa said, tilting his head slightly, ‘feeling’ what Saix was up to, “You’re actually not supposed to be able to just go back to the lake whenever you want. If you could, everyone I conditioned would have realized how small the space was. They’re probably still running around the woods trying to break out of the loop. Saix just kinda left them there.”

“But in truth, I’m a little relieved they didn’t come,” Isa admitted with a small shrug, “Axel’s going to want to talk to me plenty when I come out. Now that he’s whole again? He’s relentless about that sort of thing. He basically wouldn’t leave me alone when we first met until I agreed to get a drink with him. He was just charming enough that I didn’t find it entirely infuriating.”

“But, there will be time to talk after we get out of here… I have no idea what to do about my aide, by the way. The wolf is an aide, he’s not Saix. He’s just an aide to Saix. I think returning Saix to base essence will mostly just mean I have a sort of dumb, jumpy wolf hanging around now.” Isa sighed, standing up. 

He looked to the door, giving it a grim glare… before offering Ienzo a hand up. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. This was always a terrible place.”

Ienzo made a light humming noise that was very close to, “oh, huh, yeah”. He had figured the others would follow him, but…he hadn’t really known what it looked like to them. He’d been solely focused on the shape of Isa’s world, and the ‘solution’ he’d found in it. 

Yikes.

“Really?” Ienzo raised an eyebrow at Isa. “If I’d had to guess, I would’ve figured you’d rather talk to him than me for all this. I know things between you two are…complicated, but…the ‘personal touch’ theory Prince Kokichi started with seems to have held true, mostly.”

Faintly, Ienzo had the idea to apologize to Isa about Zexion having blurted another complicated thing about Isa and Axel’s relationship to Prince Kokichi, but, uh… Maybe it was better to just never bring that up again ever. 

“Well, at least Luxord will be happy about the wolf sticking around,” Ienzo sighed, before taking Isa’s hand and getting up, giving the room a hated look. “I’ll be happy if this place never comes up again. If I didn’t think other people might’ve taken up squatting in it, it feels like a fitting farewell if we burnt the factory to the ground before we leave.”

“Why wouldn’t talking to you not be a personal touch?” Isa asked, sounding genuinely curious as he squeezed Ienzo’s hand, “We’re family. Any of you would have been a personal touch. I’m just glad it was you, this time. You understand what I’m going through better than Axel would. And Luxord is drunk and just wanted to pet the wolf,” Isa said, rolling his eyes, “So, yes. Personal touch achieved. Theory still active.”

“I hope if they’re squatting, in a few years, it’s unrecognizable,” Isa said, looking to the walls, “I hope they graffiti all over these moons.”

And then they headed out the door. 

-

…alright, now time to get back to-- 

ㅍ^ㅍ Go to bed

Ienzo could only blink at Zexion for a moment, before frowning. “You of all people know how much work there is to do. And seeing how well our project’s worked tonight? I had no idea minds could create sequestered shapes like that, and the fact that we could feel it? We could be on the verge of a breakthrough!”

ㅍoㅍ=3 I’m aware, but you need to sleep. You’ve overexerted yourself.

Grimacing, Ienzo stood his ground, shaking his head. “No, but, that’s the thing? Expanding my energy wasn’t a power burst. It was actually well-within my capabilities, which, I know, seems odd for what it does, but it felt almost easy, knowing what to do.”

ㅍ.ㅍ I’m not talking about psychically, smartass

ó_ò I mean emotionally. We just saw one of the places we were tortured. We saw our brother trapped there, continually tortured. 

´ - ` …and I did tell you how hard it is out there. Chosen path still, you are struggling. 

Ienzo opened his mouth before he bit back his words. Shoulders slumping as his gaze dropped. “...I still want it. You can’t run our life for us. It just…”

ᴗ_ᴗ Your life, Ienzo. 

Ienzo clenched his eyes shut, taking a shaky breath. Letting Zexion pull him down onto a couch when he felt a small, nubby hand tug at him. Wrapping his hands around his oldest friend as the Chibo held him. 

ó.ò It’s hard. 

ᴗ . ᴗ But it’ll be okay. Get some rest, Ienzo. Things will look better in the morning. 

´ _ ` …I promise

No one could ever promise that. But Ienzo could choose to believe in that hope anyway.

-

Amaina was nosy. 

Sometimes, to her own detriment. Not often! There were very few things in the world, or all of existence, that could truly backfire on Amaina in any meaningful way. Her life, with rare exception, was one devoid of true consequence. Even when she was a sneaky little brain worm, going in and peeking at things she wasn’t supposed to, the offended party very rarely ever knew anything had happened. And when they did? Amaina was very cute. She had some serious pretty privilege, and she knew it, and she was a-okay leaning into it. 

The only times she really faced any consequence for her snooping, was if, like, there happened to be a giant psychic eating dragon in someone’s head. Ooooor if she stumbled upon an Empath who was actually capable of detecting her enough to scold her (or worse, scold Senpai QoQ) and, sometimes… very rarely, but sometimes, the biggest consequence of all happened.

One of her peers was there. 

She lost a loooot of pretty privilege with other Chibis. 

And as Amaina went to go play around in this ‘Destiny Island’ place that she kept hearing about from snooping around her friends in the castle’s minds, she knew the second she saw the little guy, oh yeah…this dude was going to be a total whiner. 

…not that that stopped her from following him around for a while. Waiting to see how long it took for him to notice she was there. That was the fun part, of other Chibis OvO

The library was a lot lonelier these days. Zexion had never really been one to seek out companionship, not since the days when he had been sought out for companionship, but there was still something so unnerving about the quiet library. 

What was more aggravating than unnerving, though, was the amount of work that had started to pile up. Yes, fewer constructs meant that they weren’t taking out books or laying out projects themselves, but the stacks of books that just ended up scattered around from Ienzo’s own thoughts was still a lot. So with Ienzo working through his memories of Rantarou and Xiomara’s minds, working out the changes he needed to isolate for nullifying conditioning, Zexion had taken to one of his newer tasks when Ienzo didn’t need him as backup. 

And that was reshelving books. 

Pushing a little library cart, Zexion moved through the silent space, mundanely putting books back where they belonged, trying to keep Ienzo’s mind in some kind of order…

ㅍ.ㅍ

ㅍ_ㅍ Are you lost or something?

O.O

OoO oooooooh… imma ghoooooost

O.O

OOO NO I'M A FIGMENT OF YOUR IMAGINATION

OoO that one makes more sense

With that, Amaina scooted backwards on the top of the book shelves she had been peeking down at Zexion from. Thinking maybe if she was out of sight, boom, she’d be out of mind… metaphorically. 

=o= =3

O.O

Sitting cross-legged on the top of the bookshelf suddenly, Zexion gave the Chibi a curious look. 

O_O We don’t really feel you here, so most likely that means you’re ultra powerful, or specifically made for infiltration.

ㅍ_ㅍ Or both.

O_O I don’t think this is correct, but since he’s the only other Empath we know that has a Chibi, I have to ask: Did Prince Ouma send you?

ㅍ_ㅍ No one else visits us.

O.O

OoO how do you do that squinty eye thing

ㅍ_ㅍ The ‘art style’, for lack of better terminology, I’m in seems to have made the natural shape of my eyes into rounded rectangles. 

O_O Maybe that was the best way Ienzo could conceptualize me into something resembling a Chibi

O_O I don’t really know why I look like this now, but my best hypothesis is that remaining in my human-resembling form would imply subconsciously to Ienzo that nothing has changed, and would allow me too much power again

ㅍ_ㅍ It’s strange. But he doesn’t seem to mind, so I suppose I don’t. Demyx already fawns about anything he wants, so this doesn’t change that. 

O.O mhm. Mhm

OoO makes sense

OOO IM SO JEALOUS ITS SO CUTE

OvO you have a permanent little grumpy look

OoO anyway noooooooo Wisdom aint the boss of me he’s the boss of that whiny jerk

O.O

OoO And everyone else for the most part

OOO I  A M  P O W E R 

O.O

OoO and made to be sneaky, yes

OvO what are you made for?

ㅍ_ㅍ Perhaps it’s an homage to my usual expressions before this. I wouldn’t call them ‘grumpy’, but you wouldn’t be the first to say that

O.O

O_o I wouldn’t have called Chibi Kokichi ‘whiny’. He seemed rather cheerful and enthusiastic when we met.

ㅍ3ㅍ Though it would make sense if Prince Ouma and Chibi Kokichi were putting their best feet forward to show off what a high-level construct looks like.

O.O

O.O Fascinating. So you are a reservoir of power for your Empath? That’s interesting for someone to do within themselves, as opposed to collective power in a group. 

v _ v I think there’s a lot other Empaths have figured out that we don’t know about. 

ㅍ_ㅍ It’s a long story.

ㅍ_ㅍ But now I make sure this dummy isn’t going to work himself to death.

OoO awww that’s a nice reason to exist

OvO I’m P O W E R but also my senpai wanted her friend to get to live a life

OOO SO I’M OUT HERE LIVING BABYYY!!!

Amaina swayed back and forth cheerfully, both Chibis now just sat on the top of the bookshelves. Little swirling bursts of color hovering around Amaina cheerfully as she hummed her appreciation for life… before she scoffed.

O.O Chibi Kokichi is only a baby chibi

OoO I’m talking about the grumpy one who thinks I shouldn’t do totally normal Amaina things

O.O

OoO like invade Wisdom’s mind

O.O

OoO and randomly open doors to his memories 

OOO LIKE WHY MAKE A DOOR IF YOU DON'T WANT IT OPENED????

O.O …you’re partly constructed from the power of someone who’s…

ㅍ.ㅍ

A pensive look came over Zexion’s face as he looked out into the library. It wasn’t a bad view from up here, kind of fun to see the way the bookcases started to snake into branches of the maze. He supposed not having the shelves go all the way to the ceiling now did kind of defeat the purpose of a maze, but…well, it wasn’t like they wanted to trap anyone here again. 

ㅍ_ㅍ There still are remnants of the others’ power in Destiny Island. It’s only possible through all their efforts, over the years. 

ó_ò I guess it’s kind of a nice thought that we were able to bring them out with us, even if just echoes. 

O.O

Zexion blinked at Amaina. But he supposed it wasn’t that crazy to think Prince Kokichi had multiple high-level constructs, and had just chosen a personable one to show him and Axel. 

(…e_e eugh. Scary)

e_e

Zexion gave Amaina an uneasy look. 

e^e Memories are a very private thing. Forcibly tearing into someone’s mind, especially if they’ve put in effort into barricading certain things, is cruel.  

OoO and also very fun

O.O

OoO I’m not disagreeing with the first part but can we also talk about how fun it is??

ene

e^e I would like to ask you to leave. And not sneak into our family’s minds either.

ò^ó They’ve had enough of people toying and torturing them for fun. 

O.O

O.O

QoQ Nooooooooo!!! 

QOQ DON’T KICK ME OUT I PROMISE I’LL PRETEND IT’S NOT FUN

QmQ The only way I can EXIST is jumping through minds what am I supposed to do??

ò^ó There’s a large variance between existing in a mind and delving into private things. 

ó^ò We would know. 

ò^ó I’m no longer Ienzo’s protector the way I once was, but if you come into my new territory, I’m not going to allow you to hurt and frighten him. 

QOQ I DON’T EVEN WANT TO HURT OR TORTURE HIM

OoO the number of people I’ve tortured is zero

OOO ZERO

O.O

OoO can we hang out somewhere else?

ㅍ_ㅍ Just because your definition of torture doesn’t align with someone else’s doesn’t mean they weren’t hurt.

ㅍ.ㅍ If we go to the island, will you not just go to someone else’s mind to harass them? You may be able to conceal your presence, but I’ll let them know if you’re up to something.

O.O

O.O

O.O

OoO oh I know!

OvO you should introduce me

ㅍ.ㅍ

O.O

O_O Sure. I think the others would be interested in seeing a construct like you.

ㅍ_ㅍ And you’re at least more polite than that jerk if you are like him.

Patiently taking Amaina’s hand, nub in nub, Zexion took them to Destiny Island. He took a breath, before calling out:

>O< WE HAVE A VISITOR!

“A visitor?” Sora said, popping his head out of the tree house, “Is the Ouma here?”

“Hey, isn’t that Zexion’s voice? You know, his cute, new little voice?” Demyx asked, pulling himself up from the waterfall, shaking the water out of his hair, before leaning over and giving Axel a hand up, “Who’s visiting his chibo?”

“I don’t feel anyone new. I mean, not that that’s saying much, but I don’t,” Axel frowned, wiping the water off his arms as he looked around, “Don’t see anyone either. Ienzo?”

Isa cracked open the door at the far right of the island, peeking out warily as he sniffed. “No, there’s someone here. I can sense them… it’s really small though.”

“What’s Isa saying!?” Vexen called out from the far left of the island, wandering out of the cave with the door in it, an irritated expression on his face, “Tell him I can’t hear him when he’s all the way over there like that!”

“Well, I can hear him,” Isa said.

“Isa said he can hear you!” Demyx called to Vexen.

“The hells does that have to do with what I just said!?”

“Hey, is Ienzo’s little toy able to call meetings now? Is that what’s happening?” Xaldin called from the tree balcony, frowning as he peered down at the sand, “Namine, you need to get your group under control here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, the hell is she meant to do?” Luxord asked from the lower balcony, looking up at Xaldin, who stuck his tongue at him.

Namine, in turn, appeared right next to Zexion and Amaina, looking down at them with a small, confused frown. “Oh… huh.”

“Is all well, witch?” Ansem called from the tree that tilted off the small island. 

“I don’t know yet,” Namine said, “...Ienzo? Who’s your guest?”

{???}

It occurred to Zexion then that he hadn’t asked the Chibi for her name. 

ㅍ_ㅍ This is a Chibi construct, similar to the one that Prince Ouma showed to Axel and me before.

ㅍ_ㅍ She wanted to introduce herself to you all.

Zexion gave Amaina a small prompting nod then, just as Ienzo came out of the pseudo-forest between the treehouses, looking bewildered. 

“...oh this is very strange.”

O.O

OoO rude

QOQ I’m not a baby! 

OvO just very cute

“I see,” Namine said, though she sort of didn’t. “So, your Empath is here somewhere then? I don’t feel them.”

OoO Just me.

O.O

OOO MY NAME IS AMAINA CHAN 

QvQ not that anyone in the whole wide world asked

“Guys, what am I looking at here?” Axel sighed, having hopped down to the sand to get a closer look.

“Uuuuh, she just said?? Amaina Chan?” Demyx said, pointing to his noggin, “Open your brain, Axel. And by open your brain, I mean liiiiiisten.”

“Constructs can’t hop into minds by themselves,” Namine said, “...can they?”

ㅍ_ㅍ Why not?

Ienzo tapped his chin as he considered that, making his way to the beach as well. “...I suppose so, with a certain level of power. I imagine it’d be difficult, but not impossible.”

Marluxia didn’t come any closer, but did regard the group from where he sat on the edging of a treehouse intently. “How are you any different than a person, then, Amaina Chan? Psychically created people are a thing, apparently.” His eyes narrowed a little, even as he offered a game smile. “If you’re fully autonomous, don’t need an Empath to bring you places, sophisticated enough for personal opinions and an attitude…”

O.O

OoO I’m small and CUTE

“I’m convinced.” Demyx snickered, squatting down and offering Amaina his finger. “Hello little guy! My name’s Demyx! So, if you are a construct, whose construct are you?”

OoO Senpai

“........ oh that’s the whole answer,” Demyx realized, glancing up to the others, “Anyone know a ‘senpai’?”

“I…” Isa frowned. Swallow, swallow, swallow… “I believe that’s a Dicean word, actually.”

“She’s gotta be the Ouma’s, right? Who else can even get to us?” Axel asked.

“In theory? Anyone,” Namine said, “We don’t have a lot of defenses when it comes to intruders. It’s just no one ever comes here.”

OvO except me! 

O.O

OoO who is soooooooo cute

OoO and nooooooon threatening

“...well, that was a weird thing to say,” Demyx muttered. “Should we feel threatened right now?”

ㅍ_ㅍ She’s not Ouma’s.

Zexion glowered a bit before he answered Demyx’s question.

e^e She said that rifling through others’ memories, particularly ones that someone has gone through lengths to conceal, is fun.

Ienzo’s eyes widened a little, alarmed, before he gave Zexion an incredulous frown. A momentary exchange of understanding going between them. Ienzo couldn’t believe that Zexion would allow someone with the same MO as Tengan to stick around…so that meant that Zexion had observed that Amaina was likely too powerful for him to actually boot out, not that they really knew how to do that effectively in the first place. So the next best thing was making everyone aware. 

“...o-oh,” Ienzo said after a moment, giving Amaina an uneasy look. 

O.O

O.O;

“Ooooh,” Demyx said, reaching over to give Amaina a gentle tap on the head, snickering, “We have ourselves a little invader huh? Baby Tengan?” 

“Ugh,” Axel shivered, “Don’t joke.”

“We have an interesting opportunity, is what we have,” Vexen said, finally having made the trip over, now that he felt confident the creature wasn’t about to suddenly explode. “I’d quite like to take you to my own mind and run some tests on you, dear.”

OvO No

OoO though maybe later 

OOO I’M TRYING TO SOCIALIZE 

“I will consider that an ‘ask again later’,” Vexen said, already wondering if there was a way he could lure her in. “Do you eat candy?”

O.O

OoO what like mental candy??

“I suppose.”

O.O

O///O I eat eye candy

“Aeleus, I’m going to need your assistance later!” Vexen called. 

“How do we know this?” Namine frowned, “Zexion, have you caught her in some of our memories?”

Ienzo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Did you really…? Don’t literally lure kids into your lab with candy, Vexen.”

Watching from the sidelines, Aeleus sighed. 

Zexion blinked up at Namine. ㅍ_ㅍ No, that’s just what she told me, recounting her irritation with one of Prince Ouma’s constructs.

O.O I couldn’t actually sense her at all.

ㅍ_ㅍ My best hypothesis is she was simply curious about me, likely due to the fact that I was partially modeled off a Chibi. So she was spying on me in Ienzo’s library, I assume waiting for me to notice her.

Ienzo’s eyebrows lifted before he gave Amaina a curious look. “How long were you in my head before Zexion noticed?”

OoO I dunno

O.O

OoO ten minutes?

O.O

OoO nah i’m not that patient, it was quicker than that

OOO IT’S NOT VERY OFTEN I GET TO MEET OTHER CHIBIS MY AGE!!

OoO he’s the most interesting thing here

“Uh, rude???” Demyx said, eyes widening, “I have a whole stage in my mind! With a big old tub of fish!”

O.O

OoO coooool

“Gah!” Demyx gasped, clutching his heart, “It IS cool! Don’t say it in that tone of voice! My world is awesome!”

“Meanwhile, in my world, I have lots of interesting spaces for testing and experiments,” Vezen said, “Doesn’t that sound interesting to see?”

O.O

OoO no.

“Okay, this construct was clearly sent to insult us, there’s no other explanation.” Vexen huffed. 

“Alright, do me next,” Axel said, pointing to himself, “Why didn’t you come visit me?”

O.O

OoO I only like to visit fun memories

OvO or chibis

OoO for the most part I’ve only found chibis.

“........yep, she was sent here to depress us,” Axel huffed, crossing his arms, “And she’s winning.”

Ienzo gave Amaina another curious look, matched by Zexion’s in a side-eye. Chibi her age? Then…that meant that she was a long established, powerful construct, a particular kind that was…just looking around for other similar beings. Which, Ienzo figured, wasn’t all that common. On top of just Empaths being a minority already, one having a need to make a developed construct and then maintain it for so long was something that likely only happened for a handful of reasons. Like being traumatized at a young age and then brought up in an environment that only encouraged your coping mechanism. Or…having it be a living memory of a friend. 

“No offense, squirt, but that’s not exactly that hard with this group, guys,” Terra snorted, leaning against the first pillar of the peer. His body language was relaxed, but his gaze was sharp and concerned, especially as he looked over to Ienzo. “If all she wants is to hang out with Zexion, guess that’s your call. But would you want any backup?” Just in case. 

O.O

O///O you’re pretty

“Oh, come on! I didn’t get that reaction!” Demyx wailed, collapsing onto his butt in the sand, “Guuuuys! My egoooooo!” 

“You know what, I agree. That one hurt.” Axel nodded. 

“What are we actually discussing here?” Namine frowned, looking to the others, “If we’re deciding if we’re going to kick her out of this space, we may need to call for more backup then just us. The Ouma–”

OOO NOOOOOO!!!!

QnQ he’ll scold me

O.O And then his baby chibi will scold me

OOO AND THEN THE OTHER LITTLE JERK WILL LAUGH

“Well, it seems we’ve hit a sore spot,” Vexen said, “Apparently she does at least know the Ouma.”

OoO I used his dungeon prisoner husband to be a temporary dad for my best friend because I couldn’t eat his other temporary dad because I’m not physical 

O.O physical people can just eat other people anytime they want its not fair

OoO but my best friends with his real dads now so its all good

“...”

“...”

“......you all heard the cannibalism thing too, right?” Demyx whispered.

“I guess to a being made of mental energy, that would seem like a fascinating superpower.” Vexen murmured.

⊹_⊹ 

A glimmer went through Zexion’s eyes as he noticed the same thing Vexen pointed out: a vulnerability. Leverage. Something predictable they could actually hold over Amaina to get the proper reactions they wanted and--

@〰@/)

Ienzo could only exasperatedly sigh as he put his hand over Zexion’s mouth before he could speak, holding his chibo back from flailing around. “It sounds like you’re involved, then, so you know just how terrifying Prince Ouma is. Though…” Ienzo briefly trailed off as something occurred to him, “If you found out about us through him, that already means that you’re pretty comfortable testing him.”

Giving Zexion a flat look as the chibo stopped resisting, going limp in Ienzo’s arms, Ienzo sighed softly. “I’d actually be pretty happy if you wanted to talk and confer with Zexion, peer to peer, so you are welcome to spend time in my library. However, the umbridge we take with your carefree approach to memories is for a reason, and if you cross that boundary I’m setting now, I will tell Prince Ouma about it.”

And because old habits died hard, he blinked and added, “And we’ll ask him to psychically eat you. I am absolutely certain he’s capable of that. So don’t break into the places we’ve walled off, please.”

e^e

Zexion gave Ienzo a dirty look. That’s exactly what he would’ve said, jerk. 

““qOp””

O_O”””””

OoO deal

“Good,” Vexen said, clapping his hands together with a smile, “I’m glad we got that all cleared up. Now, if you would like to follow me, young lady, I have plenty of treats and eye-candy about, if you’d sit still for a few dozen tests.”

O.O

OoO nah I’mma hang out with the emo thnx

Amaina trotted back over to Zexion and jabbed at him with her nubby hand, Okay I did the thing they all know im here, noooooooow??? Can we hang out????

Zexion rolled his eyes a bit as Ienzo let him go, catching the hand Amaina was poking him with. 

ㅍ_ㅍ Yeah, sure. Always have to make sure the new people you meet are properly threatened, right?

He gave a little nod to Ienzo before he and Amaina disappeared, presumably - oh, definitively back in his head. 

Though Ienzo just squinted, frowning a bit. Glancing over to Demyx with that frown growing concerned. “...my social skills are really that bad, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Demyx snickered, before jabbing his thumb towards Vexen, “But look who raised you, dude.”

“Perhaps if I convinced Aeleus, Terra, and Xaldin to all be shirtless next time I ask…?” Vexen murmured, chin cupped in his hand, trying to figure out how to lure the tiny chibi into his lab for tests. “Or perhaps that’s giving away the lure before the fish takes a bite? Sheer shirts??”

“I mean, we sort of have to be defensive, if someone is touring our minds for fun, right?” Axel frowned, “Sure, she looks harmless, but we all know personally how quickly that can turn on us. And we don’t know she’s just looking. Zexion was right to show her to us.”

“I was sincere that if we want to get rid of her, we will have to reach out to the Ouma,” Namine pointed out, sighing softly, “While we were talking, I was trying to affect her in some way. Change her appearance, compel her to move to some spot or another. It was like trying to manhandle wind. She is well beyond our ability to manipulate.”

“Anyone else notice she called our little chibo a chibi though?” Demyx said, “I mean, I know his design is based on chibis, and that’s why we call him a chibo. But she’d recognize he wasn’t one, right? Aesthetic wouldn’t fool her.”

Ienzo looked over to Vexen, before grimacing a bit. Ah. Yeah. That’d do it. Well, at least he had a whole world of people to be awkward at while he practiced, now. And…hopefully the impulse to always be searching for a vulnerability would fade with time. He’d much rather like it to be something he was choosing to do, rather than an always present paranoia. 

“Eesh,” Terra sighed, running a hand through the side of his hair. “From how cagey Zex was, I figured it’d be difficult, but if you couldn’t get anything on her, Namine? Well, I guess if they’re acquainted, then the Ouma would know exactly what we’re talking about if we have to plead with him for help. Though, if the biggest thing Amaina’s worried about is being scolded by him…?”

Ienzo crossed his arms, leaning more on one hip as he gave Demyx a little nod. “There must be more to what defines a ‘chibi’ than I thought, then. I did get the sense they were a category from how Prince Kokichi described his own…though apparently the construct we saw, Axel, despite showing much more cosmetic similarity to Amaina, she doesn’t actually group in as a ‘chibi’, or at least he was a proto-one. I did think it was a cosmetic and…maybe assumptive category, but I believe there’s more to it, now.”

…but who would he be able to ask about that? Sure, now two people had come to visit them, but it wasn’t like the Empath community was suddenly throwing a welcome party. 

(...technically three. But the cat hadn’t been back since the first time.)

“If I can just get her into my lab, study her for a while, I’m certain I could have a much greater understanding of how such constructs work,” Vexen said, huffing a bit, “Which, considering we apparently have such a construct among us who may fit its criteria? Could be invaluable for at the very least my son to utilize, but also for the rest of us to develop as well. We’re already struggling with formed constructs that we don’t entirely understand, such as Axel and Isa’s aides, and I’m having difficulty studying either in ways that wouldn’t potentially be harmful to their creators–”

“Maaaan,” Demyx sighed, sticking his pinky into his ear and scratching it, “Shame we can’t just ask someone.”

“....”

“........” Demyx glanced around the silence, raising an eyebrow, “We’d have asked someone if that was an option, right? I’m counting on you all to be the smart ones, you all have ruled that out for a reason?”

“Who on earth would we ask?” Namine asked, looking uneasy at the idea, “We don’t really know anyone outside of ourselves.”

“Annnnnd we’re not really anyone’s favorite person.” Axel frowned.

“I dunno, I’ve met someone. I mean, he seems to know as much about Empath stuff as I do, except for some cool things like how to project to a bunch of people at once,” Demyx said, grinning excitedly… before tilting his head, “But mostly I’m thinking of the god card we have in our back pocket.”

Ah. Right. The music Empath. That Demyx had accidentally bridged to, and instead of being horrified or pissed off or just uncomfortable, had apparently sounded incredibly friendly and had invited Demyx back to play music. That guy. 

Ienzo lifted his gaze from the glare he was giving the sand before wrinkling his nose a bit. “...Prince Kokichi is a bit of an outlier, when it comes to community reception. And while us branching out to start dealing with our auto-pilots is in part a method to stop relying on his good-will so much…”

By this point, Ienzo was starting to believe that Kokichi really was just that nice. But still, the idea of going over to grovel to him for help again…

Ugh. The things to do for science. 

Ienzo gave Namine an unenthused look. “...mind sending him a message to ask what he knows about chibi constructs?”

“Sure–”

“Oh, and tell him I’m in a new Empath band!” Demyx said, suddenly looking excited, “I wanna see if he knows what those are?! Like, maybe that’s super common! Wouldn’t that be cool, if there were a bunch of Empath bands out there!? Tell him, tell him!”

Namine blinke., “Certainly–”

“Hey, can we ask about the aid thing too?” Axel frowned, crossing his arms, “Me and Isa were talking about ours, and we don’t… entirely get how they work still? Which was already alarming enough for me, but Isa’s is walking around and barking at things.”

“Hmm,” Namine hummed, “I’ll do my best.”

-

Kaito had been working on creating this damn atmosphere all day, and despite!!! EVERYTHING!!! He had succeeded!!!

Everything being things like: Miya having, just, the absolute worst runs they had seen that morning. They were starting to add new foods to her diet, and had been warned that her bowel movements were about to become a whole new beast as her little body adjusted to the new nutrients, but…. But wow. Wow.

But Kaito had had his heart set on wooing his husbands that day, and he was going to achieve it, truly terrible poopy diapers and all!!! …until Shuichi just absolutely dipped out. None of Kaito’s atmosphere or suggestions able to break through his sudden ‘eureka!’ moment when he realized oh!!! This was what that potion recipe needed!!! Before running off leaving a very disgruntled Kaito wearing a very silly outfit, if no one was terribly impressed with how sexy it was.

But then Kokichi had come back from work! And liked his outfit! And Miyako was snoozing so Kaito had asked to go into Kokichi’s head for some ‘adult time’ and nooooow!!!

“...babe?” Kaito asked, noticing Kokichi’s gaze had wandered away and to the left, while Kaito was trying to sexily take off his shirt, “Still with me?”

{So yes, apologies for bothering you, we’re just trying to understand chibis a bit more, considering our recent visitor. She said she knew you? Amaina?}

“Shoot, uh…” Kokichi muttered softly, blinking before giving Kaito an apologetic look. “Namine’s pinging me. It doesn’t sound like they need my help there, but give me a second? I’ll be quick.”

{Amaina came to visit you? ^^;;; I hope she wasn’t too alarming. She’s very sweet and not a harmful construct, but she is very nosy, which people don’t always appreciate. She does mean well, though.}

{Also sorry for not following up! Things have been a bit busy here--I hope everything went alright the other night?}

{To answer you, Chibis are a specialized form of Empathetic construct. What they do can vary a lot, but what connects them is that they’re a construct made by more than one Empath, and through development they become more than the sum of their parts. Like not just ‘half x and half y’ but ‘x’ and ‘y’ melding together and growing to become ‘Z’, if that makes sense?}

{One of Amaina’s Empaths was fairly strong, which helps, but most of why she’s so strong herself is just the nature of being a Chibi. Stronger together, and all that.}

Kaito gave his husband a bewildered look, though he scooted back to give Kokichi some space as his husband phased out again. “Wha?? Now?” he asked, an absolute whine in his voice. His atmosphere!! He’s put all day into this!! Can’t they leave a message!?

{She seemed pleasant enough, but it was a bit alarming how… effective? She is? We did warn her that if she overstepped any boundaries, we were going to ask you to step in. I apologize to use you as a threat, but how inexperienced we generally are with greater Empath power levels becomes more and more obvious every day. There’s nothing we can really do to her ourselves.}

-

“He says, essentially, that it’s because it’s a construct made from more than one person?” Namine said, “Could Zexion be a mix of all of us because of the Destiny Island pathway?”

“Oooooh, interesting… would not Destiny Island itself be a Chibi then?” Vexen said, looking around the island, “Just without the aesthetic?”

“Oh, hmmm…”

-

{Is it possible for a Chibi to not look like a Chibi? We’re thinking specifically our island.}

Kaito sat on his ankles and glared at the bed they had made in Kokichi’s mind. Reminding himself, ‘you made a vow to support his work no matter what, you made a vow, you swore, auuuuuuugh.’

-

Ienzo’s eyebrows lifted, a hand on his chin, as he considered that. He for most certain made Zexion himself, originally…but after getting to the factory? There was so little in their minds that was truly, without exception ‘them’. The power that Ienzo used to maintain Zexion was definitely mixed with the collective pool of the others, so…if that was the criteria, then…

-

{Ah geez, well, I get that. I hope that she’ll just listen to you, but, yeah, I’ll step in if things get out of hand. Usually she just needs someone to explain why what she’s doing is hurtful, though.}

{This is a little convoluted? And might just be a distinction of category for its own sake, I’m not sure. But Destiny Island, I’m pretty sure, is what’s called a ‘collective’. The space Empaths all meet in for announcements is a collective, for example--it’s a communal space that all participating Empaths contribute to, and thus have access to. You guys have taken it a step further, though, with being able to share your energy through it. That’s why my mentor and I were so amazed when we visited that first time.}

{I think the main difference is that--unless, correct me if I’m wrong--a collective doesn’t have a will of its own, it’s just a space, while a Chibi does. A Chibi can have hopes and goals and opinions and can act outside of its Empaths’ knowledge, and presumably, will, though all the Chibis I know about have a priority towards some aspect of their Empaths’ well-being, or just, like, care about what they think, while a collective is just there.}

-

“So, our island is essentially a mental collective, which we basically knew,” Namine frowned, “But I think the main reason it’s not a Chibi is because we didn’t instill in it its own sense of personhood?”

“Ah, intent matters, I see,” Vexen said, tilting his head slightly, “Another thing that, at least instinctively, we already knew. Our Nobodies were built with a specific intent, after all, though considering what a Chibi is meant to be and the way we collect power between us, with a different set of intentions, our Nobodies might have qualified as Chibis themselves… Zexion being a potential perfect example of such.”

“Okay, but what about our aides?” Axel asked, “Isa and I intended to make Nobodies, but we accidentally made aides. Mine is an item, his moves around.”

“Also, yours is turned off, right Axel?” Sora asked, having wandered closer out of curiosity, “That’s why you’re not a sadist anymore?”

“It was more ‘emotion dampening’ than real sadism,” Axel said, “Though I have no idea how to define Isa’s by that criteria. What is it even helping him to do, by this point?”

“Should I walk over?” Isa called from the other side of the island.

“If you want to!” Axel shouted back, before looking to Namine, “Ask about the aid thing.”

-

“Kokichi,” Kaito said dryly, crossing his arms and starting to pout, “How much longer? Should I… go take a bath or something?”

{I see, that does clear some things up, but also inspires more questions. We’re curious why some of our Nobodies went the Chibi route, while others ended up aides? Do you think it's perhaps just a limit of our individual power levels?}

-

“It’s still good to confirm that the things we thought we knew really were what they seem,” Ienzo hummed. “We don’t exactly need external validation for our own observations, but it helps with overall understanding to see how our experiences work within the framing the greater Empath community has made.”

After he had been freed from his mind, Ienzo had intended to take back all his constructs, not wanting to allow himself to hide behind them anymore…but he hadn’t been able to do that to Zexion. Zexion was him, yes, but they had been through so much together… Their arrangement had been hurting him too, putting far too much responsibility on a construct, but Ienzo couldn’t bring himself to truly take Zexion back into base essence…

So he had altered Zexion’s role. And perhaps that change in intent had been the thing to really push him into Chibi territory. Which was incredibly interesting to note that a Chibi didn’t have to start from scratch; that something could become a Chibi if the circumstances were right. 

-

“Um…maybe. I thought it was gonna be one thing, but this feels like they have a lot of questions.” Kokichi frowned a bit. “I would ask if we could just talk later, but…I’d feel bad brushing them off. They don’t really have anyone else to ask.”

{Oh, hmm… That is a good question.}

{It…could be something due to intent? Like, Axel said he didn’t really believe that your Nobodies were entirely different constructs, right? Just you guys pretending. So that belief about what was happening makes sense reflected that his method was making an aide that altered his behavior. I don’t think that’s reflective of his power levels compared to everyone else, especially since you’re all sharing power.}

Kaito pouted, grabbing one of the pillows and holding it to his chest as he flopped onto his side. Whatever. He hadn’t wanted to have sex anyway. Who wanted sex? He had other things he could be doing! Like… baths! Baths were cool. Baths were more cool than having sex. Kokichi wished he was a bath.

He’d have to remind Kokichi he had to let Kaito wake up…ugh.

He moved his foot over to tap Kokichi’s side, pouting. “Can I listen? You’re just staring into the distance for me, babe.”

-

“The Ouma seems to think Axel made an aide because he thought everyone else was also making aides,” Namine said, looking to Axel, “Basically, your intent was different than ours.”

“Well, how are you supposed to be an entirely different person?! That just doesn’t seem realistic!” Axel insisted. “I mean, everyone else's Nobodies were still them a little, you know? Half of us didn’t even look different!”

“I don’t know if mine is a matter of specific intent,” Isa said, “Perhaps more accidental? Though, I think I’m in the curious position where my Nobody might have made my aide before being… reabsorbed? Is it possible to damage a construct to the point where it returns to base essence on its own?”

“Yes,” Ienzo muttered quietly.

“Oh, that’s a thought,” Vexen frowned, “Could our constructs become so damaged or traumatized that they themselves devolved or morph? If something can become a Chibi by accident, there must be other things they could become.”

“I bet that can become really bad, in some cases,” Axel frowned, “I wonder how much shit we avoided because we used each other as coping techniques?”

“I bet our Nobodies are, like, a mental illness thing other Empaths avoid. We’re probably the weird ones to have done it on purpose,” Demyx pointed out. “But yeah, I’m betting we avoided worse fates by doing that. Have you told him about my cool band yet!?”

Namine sighed.

-

{Demyx would like you to know he’s joined an Empath band. I think he’s curious if you know any other ones.}

-

“Well, we kinda already knew we’re freakshows to the rest of the community,” Terra sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Like, literal worst case scenarios. Though I guess we can get some points for avoiding the truly worst stuff.”

-

Kokichi gave Kaito an apologetic smile before nodding, scooting over to take one of Kaito’s hands, his line of communication suddenly opening up to his husband. “You might be able to help, actually. We’ve navigated so much of my Empath stuff together, I’m sure you have good insight to share.”

Which…well, the next thing wasn’t a technical question, but Kokichi still lit up.

{OoO!!!!}

{YOU CAN DO THAT?!}

{Oh that’s so cool, I’m really happy for him!!! :oD}

{No, I don’t know any Empath bands, so I’d like to just put out there that if they decide to play any ‘shows’, I’d absolutely want to come!!}

Kaito gasped a little, quietly listening in for a moment. Ooooh, this felt… different. From the last time he had done this. The last time Kokichi had branched him to Shuichi and Maki, and while Maki had been mostly quiet, Shuichi had just sort of felt like talking to Shuichi, while Kokichi always had those sudden ‘big’ emotions that could be a whole message. Like you’d be listening and suddenly SURPRISE or SWEET or MISCHIEF feelings would fill you, like you could feel those emotions with him.

But while the Empath talking back to Kokichi at first seemed pretty normal, if… weirdly… empty? Like talking to glass, as she said {It would seem so. I’m assuming by your surprise that you haven’t heard of other bands–}

But then Kaito startled when a sudden new… voice? Pitched in, {Demyx stumbling into a mind and SAM! On the beach, blond, friendly, MUSIC–several chords of music all played at once–sheepish, apologetic, hadn’t meant to, Sam’s chill, band?? Jam session, singer??? WHOLE EMPATH BAND!!!}

{oh thats a lot}

{??????}

{Hello?}

{oh sorry my bad interrupted sorry husband/prince consort/second son/Tim & Miya’s dad/atuan/kaito ‘Kichi did i just say all of that at once??}

{OH SHIT new person!!!}

{Oh dear.}

-

“I think the Ouma just put his husband on the line,” Namine said dryly, while beside her Demyx bounced on his toes. New person! New person! 

Ienzo (knowing, of course, because Namine said {husband} in their minds that she meant Prince Kaito) gave Namine and Demyx a mildly concerned look, before his curiosity won out and he followed Namine’s line over to Kokichi. 

{Prince Momota? [more info here]}

-

Kokichi barely touched that before deciding, nope, that’s too much for a casual conversation. 

{Hi Demyx, hi Ienzo. Congrats on the band, Demyx! I was just telling Namine that, no I haven’t heard of an Empath band before, but please let me know if you guys end up doing shows!! That would be incredible!!}

{Also, yeah, this is my husband ♡Kai-chan♡, we were hanging out in my head when you called, sorry.}

{♡Kai-chan♡, this is everyone.}

Kaito, holding Kokichi’s hand, still clutching his pillow to himself, had let his eyes glaze a bit, his non-Empath mind doing his best to interpret all the new ‘stuff’ that was happening. Everyone was speaking fast–or, well, normally–so it wasn’t like Kaito had time to linger on much of anything. Though, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride and affection when he saw how Kokichi ‘said’ his name. His husband was so good to him.

But! He was mildly distracted by literally one of the first things he had heard. Which was this weird sort of…it was hard to explain.

It was like picking up a word that should have felt flat, and realizing once you touch it that the word was actually a bowl, and that bowl was actually a hole, and that hole was actually a tunnel, and oh Kaito was??? Falling??? Down a rabbit hole???? Not really, but also, kinda really as he reached to touch his own name in curious fascination.

{Prince Momota  [more info here] The second born prince of the second most recent ruling reigning king  [more info here] King Leon took the throne younger than expected  [more info here] King Ambra while having been a healthy man in his sixties with considerable more time expected to rule got food poisoning from consuming too much gold in a feast where gold foil was the main decoration  [more info here] According to Lord and Lady Seisar one must never in polite company mention how the king being poisoned was an act of hubris and instead must refer to it as an ‘unprecedented tragedy’ and–}

{ oh this just keeps going how do i stop this????}

{oh no wait nevermind i guess i had to look away that was wild did everyone do that just now?}

{Sorry, Prince Kaito, did what?}

{nevermind hello! Sorry new to this give me a second}

{Totally going to invite the Ouma to a performance!! Gonna be the absolute best performance ever! Going to be so much fun!!}

{We apologize, we didn’t realize we were disturbing family time. Again, the presence of the new Chibi gave us some sense of urgency in reaching out for information.}

{oh neat OoO Amaina Chan is there?}

{ ???? }

{...oh… I can do it too…}

{Ah, I think Prince Momota [more info here] looked into my context markers [more info here]. It’s advisable, to my disappointment, that if you already know the context around something to skip delving further into it.}

{ò_ó apparently for regular conversation it takes too long to clarify everything you mean}

{It’s alright, I understand why you guys were alarmed, and I’m happy to help out when I can! ^^;;; Though, uh, if we’re getting more into the ‘I’m just kinda curious about this’ kinda stuff, while I’d be happy to talk about it later, yeah, family time.}

Kaito was a glutton for punishment. He couldn’t help but click on his name again to see if it’d lead to the same thing, and grinned in delight when this time it was {Prince Momota  [more info here] Husband of the Ouma  [more info here] Prince of Dicea, an extremely powerful Empath [more info here] abilities seem to include but are not limited to: ability to manipulate and transform other people's mental scapes at will [more info here] Axel’s aid, with unknown symbolic properties before, was dug out and transformed into a ruby after fighting his fire dragon figment–}

Kaito’s eyes widened in wonder as he got more and more info of one of Kokichi’s adventures, waving his hand distractedly at Kokichi, “Talk to your friends, babe, I’m reading something,” before he whistled, “This Axel guy’s world had some stuff going on. Also, ‘Kichi, you know they call you ‘The Ouma’? They make you sound like this cool, ominous figure. It’s sexy.” Kaito grinned, still scrolling through mental read-mores, before saying, “Oh, let me try to do it back!”

{...}

Kaito focused hard. A fun ‘read more’ to send back. Come on, something fun, fun…

{THE OUMA/’KICHI/MY KOKICHI/’KICHI PEACHY IS SO SWEETIE/BOSS/SOOOO SCARY/NOT SO SCARY!/WENT TO SEE PENGUINS LAST BIRTHDAY/BABY PENGUINS!!!/HE CRIED/IT WAS SO CUTE/LOOKED GREAT IN THE WATERSUIT/MMMM THE WATERSUIT}

{What is happening?} Namine sent, feeling baffled by the sudden mesh of random information layered over each other, inflating and then shrinking away like an accordion of knowledge, or more, like someone who doesn’t understand that trying to project a general ‘bucket’ of info doesn’t mean that bucket is particularly organized, or that there are things in that bucket you didn’t mean to add in. 

{Baby penguins!!} Demyx chimed in excitedly. {Annnnnd the Ouma’s hips???}

“Whoops,” Kaito frowned, tilting his head, “Really was just supposed to be the penguins…maybe I should try that again.”

“Yeah,” Kokichi sighed a little, though he could only give Kaito an amused look. “I’ve told them before they can just call me Kokichi, but I do get if that feels too weird. And I kind of am an ominous figure to them so…I guess that checks out. Though it is just my surname.”

Ienzo hadn’t been particularly offended by Amaina before, her assertions that they were boring and unattractive and their worlds were uninspired. He didn’t agree, sure, but her opinion didn’t matter much to him in a detached sense. 

However, at the swelling mish-mash of baby talk trying to tell a story, it was almost literal how dark clouds stormed over Ienzo’s head, despair darkening him as he slumped.

{ᄒ_ᄒ}

Was…Prince Momota mocking him?

{Ⓞ//////Ⓞ} Meanwhile, Kokichi’s reaction…

“Kai-chan.” Kokichi groaned, his face tucked into Kaito’s shoulder. “I…don’t think you can separate more private thoughts in a message like that.”

“I just need practice, babe! I feel like I got really close!” Kaito grinned, wrapping his arm around Kokichi’s waist and chuckling as he leaned his head against him, “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop. I don’t have a lot of thoughts that aren’t at least indirectly connected to how beautiful you are. Or how sexy I think your hips are. Thiiiin little hips.” Kaito hummed, closing his eyes and smiling warmly as he held Kokichi to himself, “That get sexier for every pound you add to them. My healthy, sexy ‘kichi…oh!”

Kaito suddenly started, looking excited as he said, “Let me try sending them a message that can move! Hold on, hold on!”

{Is this working!? Amaina Chan, you seeing this!?}

{@o@ Dungeon Prisoner we don't do that for a REASON}

{@O@ WISDOM CONTROL YOUR MAN IM GETTING MOTION SICK}

“Oh, wow, that worked way more than I thought.” Kaito grinned.

Meanwhile, on the island, Axel was kneeling at the edge of the pier. “Oh god… I’m gonna be sick… am I gonna throw up out there if I throw up in here? I’m so dizzy.”

“That was…” Namine blinked, clearly trying to steady herself too, “...different.”

{Ouma,} Vexen sent, clearing his throat, looking a little green himself {As the young lady in Ienzo’s head has said… please control him. This is getting foolish.}

“Ooph,” Kokichi groaned, putting a hand to his mouth. Everyone was right. There was a big reason to not do that. Was this what persistent vertigo felt like? Uuugh…

“Kai-chan, I’m glad you’re having fun, but…maybe we can practice this without people on the line? So we don’t make them sick, or…yanno, send private memories?”

Ienzo was curled up on the sand, arms over his head. Axel was right. He was gonna hurl. But he couldn’t throw up, if he threw up he was going to freak out; even just the idea - it was bad enough feeling things going down his throat, if something came back up?!

(So maybe it wasn’t so surprising that in Kokichi and Kaito’s bedroom, a very pissed off looking chibo suddenly loomed over Kaito)

𝕊𝕋𝕆ℙ 𝕀𝕋

“Holy fuck!” Kaito shouted, bug-eyed and uh oh, instinctively turning around to put himself in front of Kokichi, but that small act of protection doing little to negate Kaito’s obvious fear as he shouted, “‘KICHI I PISSED SOMETHING OFF!”

He didn’t say he pissed a ‘ghost’ off… but, like, at the core of him, that’s what he was looking at. A ghost had just popped in–to a dream version of their room, yes, but it felt so real–and told him off. He literally felt his bladder clench, the only thought saving him there being ‘changing the sheets on this bed takes so long it's way too big you are a grown man do not piss yourself.’

Amaina popped up, patting Zexion on the head, before pointing at Kaito. OoO Apologize dungeon prisoner this group is kinda jumpy

“....sorry,” Kaito said, putting up his hands, “I’ll stop. My bad.” 

Kokichi blinked in surprise over Kaito’s protective arm…before he tilted his head a little. The features were the same, but…

“...Ienzo?”

Still seething at Kaito, Zexion glared until an apology was given, and even then he gave Kokichi a cool look. Simply saying, “No,”...before his simple features calmed a bit. Glancing around the unfamiliar room with curiosity and just a hint of confusion before awkwardly giving the princes a small bow. 

“Ienzo isn’t still having auto-pilot issues, I’ve simply been relegated to a new purpose,” he informed, not wanting Kokichi to get some idea about Ienzo just going back to his old coping mechanisms, “...still, don’t fuck with him.”

There was a silent, awkward beat before Zexion disappeared. 

-

In the corner of his lab, where Ienzo had already been while he was working on his projects before Amaina showed up, Ienzo heaved breaths against the wall, the corner the only thing keeping him upright as his head whirled. The initial sudden feeling of vertigo faded, but replaced with the sudden dread of panic and all-encompassing exhaustion. 

There was a knock on the door, but to call it a courtesy would have been giving it too much credit, as the door opened while Demyx knocked, looking around quickly before whistling when he spotted Ienzo. “Yep, I thought that one might have hit you. Dude, sit down, you’re going to fall on your face at this rate!”

Demyx hurried over, offering Ienzo a hand to help him slide down onto his butt, “Geez, you’re pale. Take some breaths, man! Iiiiiin and out, in and out, you know how it goes!”

Ienzo blearily took the hand, not even really registering that it was Demyx there, just knowing that anyone who’d be there would be help. Managing not to, indeed, fall on his face, Ienzo tried to breathe. Yanno, normally, and not like breaths were something he had to choke around, almost feeling physical and making him feel so much like he was going to nonoonno pleasedon’t--

He’d likely be embarrassed later, by the utterly pitiful noise of fear that escaped him as he heaved.

“Awwww, poor guy,” Demyx said, rubbing Ienzo’s back as he brushed back the longer bangs of his hair, “There there, let it all out. You’ll feel better once it’s all done! Come on, you’ve already started, go ahead and empty it all out!”

NONONONONNO

There wasn’t the option for Zexion to ask to take over, this time. It wasn’t that they had just agreed, once they’d woken up after Ienzo was brought back, that no one else would front anymore. Ienzo had specifically reconfigured his mind, as well as he knew how, to ensure that no matter what, he couldn’t retreat and hide while someone else took care of things anymore. 

He had chosen to live his own life and that was not a choice made lightly. 

Still, even if Zexion had had the option, he likely wouldn’t have been able to. The library nearly pitch black as the sounds of books tumbled like an avalanche to the floor. An earthquake of panic, with none of the energy to brace against it shaking the library apart. He felt compelled to help Ienzo, some way, somehow, but…

…well, there was always the emergency option. 

Ienzo went limp against Demyx’s touch as he passed out. 

“Oh, no, whoops! Oh… well, gross,” Demyx grumbled, catching Ienzo before he managed to fall into his own sick, which mostly meant, ew, now it was all over him. “You out? Ienzo? Ieeeenzo? Yeah, you’re out.”

Demyx pouted, before reaching out to Axel. {Hey!!! Still meeting?? Need help! Like, bath help!!}

{What?} Axel sent back sounding exhausted, {Yeah, alright, I’m coming, we were just wrapping up. Lots of sorrys just being passed back and forth right now.}

After a moment, Axel headed into the room, grimacing at the sight. “What the hell happened? He hit his head?”

“Nah, I think he got overwhelmed throwing up. Put himself out,” Demyx said, “If we make sure he’s clean when he wakes up, I’m hoping he won’t throw up again.”

Axel sighed, but nodded. Helping Demyx heft Ienzo up, the two shuffling out into the hallway to head to the bathroom.

“Oh shit, our little lad go and get himself wasted?” Luis asked, having been wandering down the hall while they shuffled past, “When? Just now? Don’t tell me he was drunk for that whole conversation?”

“Haha, shut up, man, you know it was that motion message. Damn. Who looks at Empath messages and goes ‘I wonder if I can send motion’? That prince is a freak,” Axel scoffed, “...no one ever tell him I said that, I do not need a vendetta against a Momota!” 

“Shit,” Lauriam called, sounding more impressed than worried as he came by, looking Ienzo up and down. Ienzo did have a tendency to look…well, not great, perpetually dazed and tired-looking, but in other accounts his constructs had always made the effort to look put together as much as they could. Seeing him pale as a ghost, bile dripped from his lips and lightly scattered over his front was a change worth noting.

“Careful with your words, Axel, now that we’re moving up in society,” Lauriam lightly commented, before raising an eyebrow at the group…even as he held open the bathroom door for Axel and Demyx. “You sure it wasn’t him completely projecting Zexion through Kairi’s connection?”

“Heeeee did what now?” Demyx asked dryly, giving Lauriam a nod as he and Axel got Ienzo into the bathroom. “I assumed he knocked out of the conversation basically as soon as Prince Kaito did the ‘motion’ thing.”

“Projecting Zexion… what, like the Amaina Chibi does?” Axel frowned, grabbing a towel and starting to wipe Ienzo up, “Or, whatever the heck that thing is doing?”

“Either way, Ienzo’s not powerful enough to force his way into the Ouma… unless he was hanging out in the prince’s head?” Demyx theorized, “Lauriam, can you grab some other clothes for him? I think these are done.”

“Couldn’t tell you. Mechanics are the brainiac’s thing, not mine,” Lauriam said idly, inspecting his nails as the others started to clean Ienzo up. “I just know I noticed something ‘extra’ go along the line from Ienzo to the Ouma. Which, you’re right, ‘Enzy’s not powerful enough to do, considering all his demands for others to make an opening for him.”

Turning to go get a change--without acknowledging that that was what he was doing, of course. Demyx wasn’t the boss of him--Lauriam glanced over his shoulder. “Just like you’re not powerful enough to randomly drop into people’s heads.”

“Eh…OH!” Demyx suddenly lit up, wiggling his shoulders a bit as he pulled Ienzo’s shirt off, tossing it aside as he looked to Axel, “He’s saying it’s more evidence for my theory!! We’re stronger when we’re whole!”

“I don’t feel stronger,” Axel pointed out, shuffling Ienzo’s pants off of him, grimacing at the wet, scrunchy sound as he tossed it aside with the shirt, “But then, I didn’t get ‘whole’ the way you did. I wasn’t a Nobody to begin with, so… I don’t know. Maybe you’re right, maybe being a Nobody affects your power level?”

Returning--despite having more space for themselves these days, for their actual living space the Nobodies had kept things fairly consolidated--Lauriam shrugged as he kept Ienzo’s clothes draped over his arm. “Again, I’m not the guy who interprets data. But I suppose it’s a possibility.”

A distasteful tick went through Lauriam’s lips. “That is a more tempting reason to go through with ripping your mind open, I’ll admit.”

“Oh, come on, Lauriam, we’ve all already agreed to become whole again. You having doubts again?” Demyx scoffed, going to turn on the water. 

“Don’t be dismissive, Demyx,” Axel frowned, “I didn’t feel entirely okay with becoming whole when I volunteered either. I had doubts. And, as grateful as I am for it now… I didn’t exactly get to choose in that final moment either. I was whole the second I could hold my aid in my hand. It’s a scary moment, you don’t really know who you’re coming out as.”

“Who are you explaining it to!? I did the whole shebang too!” Demyx insisted. “...or, well, Larxene did it. And I remember how it felt a little… she was scared, sure. No…” Demyx frowned, looking away, as Axel hefted Ienzo up, putting him in the tub, “...she was sad. Like we finished a song before she was really done…”

Lauriam glowered at Demyx, though only for a moment before it shifted to the wall. It was…harder to argue now that trying to regain their hearts was a futile effort, when it had worked. Sora was happy and excited, Demyx didn’t suddenly go on tangents about how much he wanted to see people grovel and cry, Ienzo was smiling. Axel was…pretty much the same, maybe a little less quick tempered, though that had been reflective of his experience. And it hadn’t been that long since Isa came back, but so far Lauriam hadn’t noticed anything. 

But even still, that success percentage was hard to argue with. 

So…either Lauriam had to argue that they were outliers…or he was. And somehow applying it to himself felt less like a sign of superiority, thinking more clearly and being realistic and more like…he’d be saying there was something wrong with him. Which absolutely wasn’t an option. 

“Larx could’ve put on a concert until the heat death of the universe,” Lauriam said dryly, absolutely not hurt or bitter or anything about her going back to base essence, “Any curtain call would be premature. Not that you’ve stopped humming once since coming back.”

“I’m just saying,” he huffed, “A power upgrade seems to be the one definitive, provable benefit to all this.”

“I’d say us being healthier is also a benefit, but I’m literally still waiting for Ienzo to wake back up while I’ve got him naked in a tub, soooooo,” Demyx huffed, shrugging, “We’re just doing our best, Lauriam. It’s gonna be okay! Our Nobodies were always just a temporary crux thing! …unless you thought you were going to live your whole life in the factory.”

“Which we all did, Demyx,” Axel growled, giving Lauriam a worried, sympathetic look. “Us changing our minds kinda came out of nowhere this last year. Like I said: don’t be dismissive. We’re all coming to terms with it still, some slower than others. That’s fine,” Axel said, saying that more to Laurium than anything. 

Despite Axel’s attempt to diffuse, Lauriam just bristled. “There’s nothing wrong with being skeptical. Until a few weeks ago when you guys decided to sightsee in a murderer’s mind and got a coin-toss of luck with a power freak, literally every discussion we had was hypothetical. And even if things seem to be just dandy with you, we still don’t know how this is going to work out long term! In case you’ve forgotten all sense of time.”

“...I think it’s worth defining that she was a murderer against her will,” Ienzo slurred in a mumble, blue eyes just barely blearily cracking open. He was still gathering where he was and what he was doing and why thoughts felt like drops of ink in water, but hearing Maki mentioned, he thought that was an important distinction.

“Oh! You’re awake! Well, no, but you’re sorta awake!” Demyx grinned, splashing his hands in the water a bit, “Hey, you’re in the bath, alright? We’ve gotten the bile off of you, you’re good bud!”

“Man, I am not saying that our allies aren’t just as scary as our situation,” Axel huffed, shaking his head. “Literally took an entire, hidden part of me and held it in his hand, remember? Like…” Axel put out his hand, palm up, before closing it into a fist, “Literally held a massive chunk of me in his hand. And… can just… like, is anyone else still freaked out that he literally just had over 700 gold hand-delivered to us!?” Axel said, looking around at the others in exasperation, “That’s still really alarming every time I think about it!”

“You guys are worrying too much. Life owes us, like, a thousand favors by this point.” Demyx huffed, “Call it karma!”

“If it's karma, we’re in trouble. None of our hands are clean,” Dilan called from the door, leaning against the frame, “What are you guys doing? I know Ienzo hasn’t volunteered for no voyeur thing.” 

“He passed out, we’re helping him! Don't be weird!” Demyx shouted. 

Ienzo let out a small, comprehending hum before his eyes shut again, finding that a little easier to not have everything just be a swirl of input. Just like the invasiveness of their minds, the factory Empaths had gotten very comfortable with each other physically too. You had to, in the size of the spaces they were given, but it had been a necessity too, when someone nearly went braindead over-exerting themselves to meet quotas, or needing to heal in peace after a punishment. 

This was not the first time Ienzo had woken up in a bath, and he had no reason to even consider it would be the last. 

“He is royalty,” Lauriam pointed out, aiming for haughty and falling closer to ‘unnerved’, “The way people talk about the Momotas’ wealth? Or even just walking into any royal district and seeing how much money’s pumped into that? 700 is probably a drop in the bucket.”

Which felt kind of…disgusting. Marluxia liked to think of himself as someone who’d happily revel in any advantage he got, but it seemed that there was a limit to that, and getting sent over 700 gold was apparently way over that. That kind of money was just scary. 

Looking back at Dilan, Lauriam snitched, “He either got hit harder with the motion sickness, or he decided to test out the new bounds of his little chibo against an obsidian wall.”

Ienzo let out another soft hum, this one more dissenting.

“Oh? Well, I can’t discourage it if you’re testing your limits.” Dilan shrugged, before chuckling a little, giving Ienzo an amused look. “Hey, if you’re practicing invading minds, let me know next time. I’m bored as hell, and Luis is getting too comfortable.”

“Your Xaldin’s showing,” Axel sighed. 

“Tsk, making that drunk do some mental exercise isn’t ‘sadistic’,” Dilan scoffed, shaking his head before pushing off the door frame, “And if it is, so what? Us Nobodies have to stretch while we still can. Who knows who’s going next. Maybe our Lauriam here will have a sudden last minute epiphany too.” Dilan smirked, reaching over to Lauriam’s hair. “Ready for the chopping block, handsome?” 

“Nm,” Ienzo protested again, not any louder than his previous attempt. 

“And because ‘whole’ people can never just be sadists either,” Lauriam rolled his eyes, before scoffing, blocking Dilan’s reach with an arm, “You know? Maybe I will. I don’t expect a big revelation, but if I can get a power boost too? Well.”

He smirked a little. “Not that we’re really in need of some fixed scales anymore, but knowing more opportunities to look for tends to make more pop up.”

“Oh yeah? That’ll be fun. Can I come watch?” Dilan asked, smirking at Lauriam, “I bet you tap out halfway through. You hate giving up control. I really can’t imagine you letting go enough to let any of us help you.”

“Hey, why are we picking on Lauriam!? If you’re so tough, you go next, Dilan!” Demyx demanded.

Axel, in turn, just watched curiously. The whole group was close–you couldn’t help it, in the factory. The other people were literally the only things in their world–but there were little pockets of groups, usually ‘cliques’ for lack of a better word, that tended to be closer in different ways. Dilan and Lauriam were part of a clique. And Dilan, for all his Nobody’s sadistic tendencies, didn’t tend to turn those sadistic tendencies on his family for more than just mild teasing and pranks.

Maybe… Dilan was worried about Lauriam? Worried that he couldn’t do it, if push came to shove?

“Oh please,” Lauriam scoffed, again aiming for dismissiveness, but bristling with genuine irritation, “What, are you expecting me to weep and whine that it’s too hard? If there’s even some cowardly loser sniffling in a corner up there, I bet I can get to him faster than anyone.”

Fronting on Dilan, Lauriam glared up at him, before giving a cruel smirk. “Maybe I really should go next. You know, because you’d need all the help you can get.”

“What, and give up the potential power boost first?” Dilan chuckled, reaching up to lightly knock his fist against Lauriam’s chin, “Cute. Nah, I’ll go ahead and become whole and become even stronger, and when you finally get around to it? Maybe I’ll show you a move or two, flower.”

“....uuuugh, oh, you guys are doing that again,” Demyx huffed, rolling his eyes, turning back to Ienzo, “Poor Ienzo here has already puked once today. Do your gross old man flirting somewhere else.”

“Old man!? They’re your age!” Axel shouted. “And younger than me!”

“Lauriam is. Dilan’s ancient,” Demyx said, turning up his nose.

“You’re right. The whole ones can be sadistic,” Dilan muttered to Lauriam. 

Lauriam silently seethed up at Dilan, eyes fixed and bright…before he gave Demyx a flat look. What a child.

Though, he gave the musician a coy look as Dilan muttered to him. “Oh just wait your turn, Dem-Dem. Now that we actually have things like calendars? And,” he dramatically gasped, “seeing the sun rise and set every day? We’re wholly aware of each and every day that passes. No more happily taking guesses in ignorance.”

Leaning towards Demyx a bit, Lauriam smirked more. “I’d get used to refraining from throwing rocks in glass houses, if I were you. I doubt even Ienzo would stick around to pick up the pieces once your little band friends accuse you of cradle-robbing.”

“Hey! I kept count! I am… definitely most likely 27!” Demyx said, knowing he couldn’t say, like, one hundred percent that was true. The first few years had been easier to keep track of, but the more time spent in the factory? Especially with the way the supervisors enjoyed messing with the group’s sense of time? Referencing festivals and holidays and even just the weather that made no sense–how was it over hundred degrees out in the middle of winter? Wasn’t it the middle of winter?--just to confuse them…

Yeah. 27 Was Demyx’s best guess. The older Empaths were guessing on even flimsier logic. Luis, whenever a new Empath was brought in who asked how old he was, just said ‘guess’ and whatever the Empath guessed? That was how old he was until the next guess. 

“...a-and I have no idea how old my bandmates are!” Demyx admitted, scoffing as he crossed his arms, “But it’s not like I’m planning to date them. My head’s nowhere close to that right now. Could you guys imagine, on top of all this bullshit, trying to date?”

As much as he wanted to, Lauriam couldn’t really argue that vague claim, because he was ‘definitely most likely’ 26, and, yeah, that had been the approximate age difference between him and Demyx since they met. 

They had tried to keep time, sure. Some of them held tight to the last date they knew before being brought in, and kept referencing it against whatever date it was someone said when they were first brought in, some had even tried making mental clocks…but that was hard to keep up with, when they had no reference of a ‘second’ or a ‘minute’ of a real clock to check it against. 

Lauriam had once seen some notches in the wall of one of the bedrooms. He didn’t know if it was more depressing if someone had just given up because they lost sense of time, or they realized they were never leaving. 

“For you? No. Though even in the best circumstances that’s a stretch,” Lauriam snarked, before giving Demyx a challenging look. “But~ Of all methods, dating someone long-distance does take care of some of the issues like, oh I don’t know, that we’re planning to flee the country soon.”

“I’m just saying, Dem-Dem, be careful where you put your pushing-30 hands.”

Demyx bristled, before sticking his tongue out at Lauriam, crossing his arms and huffing as he looked away. “A-at least I’m not attracted to old guys!”

“Again, he is not that old,” Axel grumbled, knowing he himself was somewhere in his early thirties–the introduction of Kairi into his life had actually been shocking for Axel, because he had realized he had to be way older than he had guessed, having thought he was in the factory a shorter time by no less than four damn years– and starting to feel ancient as Demyx just huffed again. “Ugh. I’m on Lauriam’s side, you’re going to age like a toad, if you’re already looking at us like we’re ancient.”

“Pff, I don’t care, myself. I think I’m pulling off my forties nicely.” Dilan smirked, bringing up an arm to flex a bicep. “For your all’s sakes, I hope you grow up to be this pretty too. Especially you, flower,” Dilan said, giving Lauriam a wink before heading off.

Lauriam crossed his arms and gave Demyx a flat look. That wasn’t even a jab at all. Being into people younger than you--could get creepy. Being into people older than you? A calculated choice. 

Huffing a little as Dilan headed off--and watching him go for a moment, eyes flicking over him--Lauriam then quickly squatted by the others around the tub. “Ienzo, you’ve been grunting, I know you’re awake. Get your mind together, then we’re doing this,” he demanded, before scowling. “There’s no way I’m letting Vexen poke around to do it instead, but I’m not letting Dilan get to it first.”

Ienzo gave a drawn out, beleaguered groan. 

He and Lauriam really could get along, sometimes!! But whenever someone started to even hint at being better than him in some way, Lauriam just got so…obnoxious. And pushy. And meanly manipulative, sometimes.

“Now? Are you crazy?” Axel said, reaching over to flick Lauriam’s ear, “It’s not even like Dilan was saying he was going to volunteer tonight, or this week. At least get a night's worth of real sleep first.”

“Also, look at him,” Demyx said, pointing to Ienzo, “You really think he’s going to be up to it anytime soon?”

Lauriam huffed, rubbing his ear. “Neither am I. I’m just reserving my place. It’s not like I’m saying, ‘oooh~’,” he rolled his eyes, swaying into a swoon, “This would be suuuch a good opportunity for an experiment, seeing just how much concentration you really need for this, especially with a new power level. Or testing just how easy it is with an enthusiastic volunteer.”

…even as Lauriam said those things facetiously, Ienzo cracked an eye open.

“....” Demyx squinted, looking between Lauriam, then Ienzo, then Lauriam, “...ey!! No! You’re doing that thing where you’re being sarcastic about trying to get us to do stuff, and getting us to do stuff! I’ve learned since the ‘spider nest’ incident, Lauriam! Ienzo’s not falling for it while I’m around!” 

“Ugh,” Axel scoffed, “Lauriam, did you ever get the clothes? Just pass us the clothes, we might as well get Ienzo dressed and send him to bed by this point.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Lauriam huffed, “Ienzo’s practically drooling onto the side of the bath, he’s not capable of doing anything right now, and I don’t need to babysit a toddler this evening. Or ever!”

“Never needed to be babysat,” Ienzo grumbled, apparently still a little sore over arguments over a decade old.

“Never needed to be picked up to head to the insulated room either, hm?” Lauriam said with heavy sarcasm before sneering, “Might still need to, actually. Didn’t quite hit that growth spurt all the way.”

“Least I never hit my head on an overhead after mine in front of all the supervisors,” Ienzo grumbled back, earning a flushed, gritted teeth glare.

“Fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted,” Lauriam dramatically sniffed, tossing Ienzo’s clothes at Axel as he got up to go.

“Geez, you know, I hoped Lauriam would relax a little out of the factory, even before becoming whole,” Axel sighed, watching Lauriam head off, “But he’s still butting heads with everyone.”

“I’m telling you guys, we need to get him laid. And you laid. And literally everyone else laid,” Demyx said, leaning over to drain the tub, “I don’t know how everyone resists the temptation to so much, we’re literally surrounded by brothels. It’s a de-stresser, if nothing else.”

“I’m a little shocked you managed to start sleeping with people outside of the factory as quickly as you did, Demyx,” Axel admitted, nose wrinkling a little, “I like to think I’m coping pretty well, but… talking to people outside of all of us? Heck, being in crowds, being near them? It can be kinda overwhelming. I can’t imagine actually trying to sleep with anyone new right now. It’s just too much.”

“Besides,” Axel said, glancing at the door where Dilan and Lauriam left, “I think this is the time where some of us are going to have to start thinking about who we are to each other. It’s easy to not put a label on something when it's only us and we have a lifetime in private to figure it out. But… yeah. Now we’re out here and eventually some of us are going to think about dating and getting relationships outside of the group… Leaving it ‘unsaid’, if you have something to say? Isn’t going to last forever.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing. It’s great we can make relationships outside of the group now!” Demyx shouted, helping Ienzo out of the tub, Axel passing him the towel, “If you don’t know how I started so quickly, I don’t know how you all resist. It’s so great, getting to know people, getting close again… it’s good for us!”

“Can’t argue that,” Axel sighed, “Still hard though.”

“Think he might be missing Larxene too,” Ienzo mumbled, taking a deep breath to try and mitigate at least some of the complete manhandling Axel and Demyx were doing for him. No one else moving around your body includes externally, bud. “Like how you were after Sora reintegrated Roxas, Axel. But grief is too plebeian an emotion for High Lord Marluxia.”

As they started talking about relationship dynamics more broadly, though, Ienzo could only frown. Mostly staying quiet on the topic of Demyx’s known and prolific patronage of the local brothels, just chiming in to mutter, “Hasn’t really been the main thing I’ve focused on exploring with our freedom… Don’t really know what to do in a group of people that haven’t been forced together through poor experiences either.”

“Yeah, well…” Demyx looked away, a brief flash of guilt running through his face, “...I can’t be the parts of Larxene he liked. She was almost entirely unlike me. I… wouldn’t be able to fake it if I tried.”

“It’s a learning process. You’re going to figure it out, Ienzo,” Axel said, rubbing out his hair with the towel, before passing over his clothes, “And there’s no big hurry. Like Lauriam said, we’re about to make a run for it out of the country. Demyx found himself some long distance friends, which is good, but otherwise? We’re about to uproot our whole lives. Hell, your new…thing with the Mad Lady Maya? Even that level of connection has me worried, along with your subjects. You’re already connected to a lot of people here, Ienzo, and that’s gonna be hard when we leave.”

Even then, though, Larxene had things that Marluxia liked. It wasn’t to discount their lived experiences, their personalities, but…well, they weren’t the full people. If Lauriam really was serious about becoming whole soon, then soon it’d just be Demyx and Lauriam. Maybe the two of them would build a different relationship that way. But it wasn’t either of their responsibilities to be their constructs. 

Ienzo shrugged a little, dazed as he pulled his head through a shirt. “Connections that were always meant to be temporary. Rantarou isn’t from Chonis, he was always going to leave even if we weren’t. And I really doubted that Xiomara would keep coming by after I figured out how to get conditioning to stop working.”

A faint, sardonic smile lifted Ienzo’s lips. “If I really wanted to, I could be Lady Maya’s new pen pal. It seems fitting.”

“You should. I know we’re fine with gold now, but in the future, she might still want to fund your research, even if it's in Dicea,” Axel pointed out, “Based on the way you described it? I get the feeling she needs to feel useful in what you’re doing. That woman’s been silent and locked up her whole life, watching her family ruin the lives of everyone around her… honestly? Considering she’s literally been called Mad by all of her neighbors? She might go crazy without the focus.”

“Uhhhh… that’s pretty bold to say,” Demyx frowned, “You’ve talked to her, what, once?”

“Sure, but I’ve been watching Ienzo–and, honestly, kind of the rest of us–lose our minds in the last year wanting the same thing,” Axel frowned, “And that manor was great and all, but she’s been there, alone, for a long time… She might not be that different from us, as far as how much she needs this.”

Ienzo hummed shortly. Just figuring out how to nullify conditioning wasn’t going to be the end of his scientific endeavors for life. It’d been a project for a long time, yes, and to not lose focus Ienzo hadn’t really put the time into narrowing a focus for anything he wanted to do after it, but that didn’t mean the desire wasn’t there. If Maya was willing? Then…why not reach out to her for funding on future projects too? The worst she could say was no, and he thought it’d be interesting to keep her updated on his projects regardless. 

Even if their former relationship had only been one by proxy, Ienzo thought it would be…nice, to try and form one like this. 

And if it helped her too? She had said she wanted to be passionate about something. Ienzo didn’t think it was thinking too highly of himself to say he brought up thought-provoking queries. 

Though…

With another deep breath to steady himself after putting on his pants, something a little…nervous. And unsure crossed Ienzo’s face. Though he did still quietly say, “...more than a year.”

“Yeah, I know,” Axel sighed, reaching over to ruffle Ienzo’s hair lightly, “We all knew, man. You don’t have to get that look on your face. It’s not like any of us could really keep secrets in the factory.”

“What are we talking about?” Demyx asked, genuinely confused… before he realized, “Oh! Oh, Ienzo’s experiments to stop conditioning in the factory. Yeah, how could we not know!? Vexen would be pissed for days. We’d all be running, hiding behind corners and each other, trying to stay out of his way because his kid pulled some shit again and he was worried about him.”

Ienzo looked up. Blinking. Not focused, he was still too out of that for even utter surprise to bring him to full focus, but it was enough for Ienzo’s face to start turning pink as he squawked, “What?!”

Axel blinked right back. “...oh wow, you really thought we didn’t know. Ienzo, no one talked about it because the more anyone mentioned it, the more in danger you were… but your dads knew. And look, I’m sorry, but Vexen can’t keep a secret to save his life. You messing one of those up, Vexen being pissed about it? Were always Events.”

“Not to mention the random people you conditioned whose schedules were all over the place,” Demyx sighed, looking deeply tired, “Did you really think no one was covering for you when that happened? Don’t you remember Xaldin randomly punching that one supervisor in the face? That guy was looking into some of your numbers, and suddenly, fucking with Xaldin was alllll he wanted to do. Did he never tell you? That’s more humble than I’d expect of him.”

Ienzo looked between Axel and Demyx, astounded, before pink deepened and he melted into a humiliated little puddle on the bathroom floor. He’d known and accepted his failures, sure. Knew about the danger. Had paid for it, the first time or two he’d given it a go and really hadn’t been subtle at all. 

But he’d thought he’d gotten better! Trying smaller scale things that wouldn’t be easily detectable, for all they hadn’t worked either! Kept his theory crafting firmly in the deeper parts of his library, even if he could admit that maybe someone might’ve picked up on certain patterns in his sleep deprivation, but there had been other, non-anti-conditioning planning reasons for that too!

That HIS ENTIRE FAMILY HAD KNOWN THE WHOLE TIME??? Sure they knew Ienzo hadn’t paid a ton of attention to things outside himself, but that painted him in shades of just…utter thankless hubris…

Ienzo groaned on the floor, pink starting to turn red. 

Demyx giggled, reaching over to pat Ienzo’s side. “Heh! You’re the doofus for once. Does this make me the smart one?”

“You wish,” Axel scoffed, grabbing Ienzo’s arms and hoisting him up, “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You need a nap.”

“I thought I hid it so well…” Ienzo moaned, humiliated, sloughing his body forward at Axel’s directions. “I thought the supervisors just thought I’d learned after my second time in the quiet room…”

Every other time had been for a different reason, after all. As loosely defined as those ‘reasons’ for torture were.

“You might have! Maybe we didn’t know every time!” Axel offered, clearly trying to spare Ienzo’s ego a little.

“I’d be astounded if we missed any,” Demyx countered, cruelly unconcerned with egos, “The second anyone realized something was up? Rumors spread within the hour. Usually because someone was scrambling to cover however they figured it out for you.”

“It wasn’t a bad thing you were trying to do,” Axel said, the group heading to the room with Ienzo’s bed-nest in it, planning to yell at anyone else who might be home and using the room, “And no one wanted to like… kill the goodness in you. Same way Roxas’s damn heart was broken by some sob story every other conditioned person had, or,” Axel sighed, “Hell, the entire Destiny Island thing. You know your dads were part of the group that found a way to justify the breaks… It used to be we’d do our thing and then kick them awake and then they’d just… sit in their rooms and cry.” 

Axel’s expression dimmed. He hadn’t been around back in those days, but the older Empaths had been deeply affected by the time before Destiny Island. As bad as the factories were, they used to be neverending wails of despair. That the Empaths had found a way to limit the torture at all? Had been a pointed effort and experimentation, one that had almost fallen apart when the older Empaths died and Namine hadn’t shown up yet. 

In truth, Axel thought Vexen was more… an earnest researcher, than someone naturally brilliant. Vexen could be kind of an idiot sometimes. But his persistence in trying to find a way to not only make the methods they needed for the shared island, and then justify it to a mocking, goading Tengan? Vexen had earned his title as a scientist a long time ago. The group owed him and the other older Empaths who had worked with him a lot, when it came to general mental health breaks.

Ienzo gave another despairing groan. He already knew he had so much to be grateful for, and a lot to apologize for concerning his family. It just…sucked learning that there was yet another thing. 

He sighed as they steered him towards his cot. “Thank you, retroactively, then… I’m not upset that you knew, just that I didn’t notice you knew. I know I can get hyperfocused on experiments, but I knew how much trouble you guys would get into by proxy if the supervisors realized what I was doing. So I thought if I hid it from everyone… I’m ashamed knowing how much you all were doing for me without me even noticing.”

Their Nobodies had been made to be cruel, yes. But even then, and especially when their main egos had been around more frequently…it was obvious to even the most staunch believer in the Nobody method that they just weren’t cruel people. They couldn’t stop the program or conditioning, but over generations they had fought and experimented to make things even the smallest margin better. And those inches counted. 

Every little bit of humanity they retained was important. 

Already looking like he was about to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow, Ienzo dazedly mumbled, “Maybe I should make a ‘thank you’ cake or something…”

“Ooooh, I’d like a cake,” Demyx grinned, glancing around the room and pleased the only person there was Luis, who was already asleep in his on bed, napping away some booze, “I’m so down for it, I will support ‘thank you cake’ dreams.”

“You’re welcome, but I think you don’t give yourself enough credit. For the ‘not noticing’ stuff,” Axel said, helping Ienzo down on the bed roll, “You do know you helped all of us with a thousand things over the years, right? It wasn’t Zexion just taking and taking and taking… we were all helping each other. You helped us too. I’d get into specifics if I thought you’d be awake long enough to hear it, but trust me, Dilan didn’t punch that guy and take those punishments because he was self-sacrificing. He cared about you. You… I mean, you were the one that noticed and argued he needed the medication, right? They weren’t going to let a healer see him until you kept putting up a fuss, and that led to the others putting up a fuss. He still has his foot because of you. That’s not nothing. You’re not in debt.”

Sometimes it felt that way. Ienzo had felt so helpless when he had been put into that first room for conditioning. As he tended to do back then, he’d started talking to Zexion, had noticed feeling something a little…weird, and before he knew it he’d been shunted into a different room by people wearing weird symbols and looking at him like garbage, unlike the uncaring professionalism of the people before. 

Then his life in the factory had started, and while Ienzo had been a little nervous about going in for conditioning? He’d tried to be brave, remembering Maki’s proud reassurance. But factory life for a long time had never stopped being overwhelming, and he had been encouraged to hide behind someone else so he just…gave in. And it just went deeper and deeper until sometimes Ienzo actually had to consult his mental map of the factory when he fronted because he didn’t recognize anything. 

And the entire time, he knew that the only reason he had been alright was because the others were directing the constructs in charge of his body. Add in the fact that he had been the youngest by a longshot for a good while, someone that--despite Ienzo’s precociousness--really did need to be taken care of, Ienzo really did just feel indebted. 

But it had never been one way. Even when he had been a child. 

“Of everything, ensuring our health is the bare minimum they should’ve been on top of to ‘protect their assets’...” Ienzo grumbled, not even really arguing but just exasperated by the memory. But he sighed. “...fine. Just…let me know when I’m being an asshole next time?” 

“Yeah, obviously,” Axel said dryly, poking Ienzo’s cheek. 

“We’ll still take the cake though!” Demyx grinned, throwing the blanket over Ienzo, “Holding you to the cake thing!”

“Alright, come on, I’m hungry and I still am processing that we talked to one of the Momota princes directly and he was kind of an idiot,” Axel sighed, “Not even, like, malicious. Just dumb.”

“I dunno, I think if I hadn’t found out about my abilities the way I did? I’d have probably had fun with my first time playing with it too.” Demyx snickered, getting up to follow Axel out, giving Ienzo a wave.

“Didn’t say it carelessly,” Ienzo muttered back, before giving Axel and Demyx a small, tired smile. Giving Demyx a little wave back as they left.

…

Settling onto his side, Ienzo closed his eyes. He really wouldn’t have any trouble going to sleep, as much as it did tend to give him trouble regularly. There were all sorts of things to consider, like the actual nature of Chibis, and…what Zexion had actually done to Kokichi, and…

Ienzo frowned to himself as he pulled his blanket up to his chin. 

Demyx thought it was wonderful to make connections with all sorts of people outside of their group. Not dating, evidently, but having sex, making friends, everything else…

Somehow he didn’t find it comforting to acknowledge that Demyx was right.

-

Sam sat back on the dirt, the gurgling of the river at his feet a fitting soundtrack to the swirl of stars and cosmos above him. The chill biting at his fingers and numbing his arms and legs was its own remix, and far from unpleasant. It made Sam feel alive. Present. 

He drew in a shuddering breath, the cold sting launching a direct attack at his eyes through the tears gathering there was less pleasant, his angle not letting them fall down his face until they built and built and built and the dam broke. 

He…could check. Sam wasn’t strong enough to flip through every damn person in the world, and he wasn’t very good at reaching out to specific people--his broadcast was more of a ‘yell into the void’ thing--but…it was his dad. Out of anyone in the world, Sam would be familiar with his family’s signatures. And…Kent had still been around when Sam awoke to his gift. Not for long, sure, but…

Sam choked down on a whine as he took another shaky breath, rubbing some of his tears away with his arm. 

Yeah, he could check. And maybe not find anything. And maybe find, yanno, a warzone, death and fear and pain and all the other feelings in war. …and maybe find someone he wouldn’t even recognize as his father. Not that Sam knew that wouldn’t happen when Kent returned in person either.

He fell back on the crunchy grass as his chest shuddered. 

The war wasn’t going well. Not at all. And every piece of news that they got made Sam feel like…

But Vincent didn’t know. Every piece of mail just made Jodi’s cleaning schedule triple, and Sam… E-every time Vince asked for confirmation about Kent coming back soon, Sam reassured him with a bright grin and utter confidence, and Sam was happy to do it! Kids shouldn’t be burdened with that kind of stuff, they had a childhood that was important to enjoy, and without proper confirmation, it wasn’t like that couldn’t be true, so it wasn’t like they were lying to him…

A squeaked out sob escaped Sam as he huddled, his limbs curled up into the air. He’d go back in a bit. Be the best damn big brother in the world, maybe…maybe get some crocuses for his mom. Smile and joke and play music too loudly and peek around the corner to make sure Lewis wasn’t coming by before practicing a grind on Emily’s flower box again, and…everything. 

But out in the forest in the middle of the night, far enough away from Marnie and Leah’s homes, Sam could just cry. 

Harrier didn’t sleep well. It was probably from destroying his body with drugs and alcohol. He had found most things about himself, one way or another, linked back to that fact, even if he had never touched the stuff ‘himself’, and couldn’t remember what it tasted like, or how it felt to be buzzing from it fresh. Despite no memory of drinking? Harrier was still an alcoholic. And Encyclopedia informed him, statistically, he always would be. 

‘A recovering one’, Volatile would whisper reassuringly into his ears, ‘It matters, the ‘recovering’ part of that label. Don’t be dismissive of it. You should be proud.’

Harrier didn’t feel proud. He felt tired and uncomfortably sweaty and worn down in a way that forced his body to get up and move, out of the shack he and Kim shared, out into the more open air of the woods, trying desperately to let the world cool him down. He was overheated, and that heat was coming from inside of him. Something in him burning up. ‘Probably another stage of withdrawal’ Half-Light guessed. There were always more stages. Every time he thought he was close to the finish line? The reptile and his nervous system laughed at the hubris, mocking him as he attempted to recover in his sleep. 

Harrier’s body would always be in withdrawal. That was what addiction was.

‘If it’s all pointless anyway,’ Electro-Chemistry whispered, ‘Why not just get a bottle anyway? They’re everywhere, around here. It’s so easy…’

‘Recoving’, Volition said, ‘That’s the important part. Recovering.’

When Harrier heard crying in the woods, he had two thoughts at the same time. ‘Uh oh. What have I done now?’ and ‘Someone’s in trouble. You're a police officer. You’re meant to help people in trouble.’

Composure warned Harrier that actually, it sounded like someone was just having a good cry to themselves and it’d be polite to leave them to it, pretend you haven’t seen. Harrier ignored Composure, as he shuffled through the underbrush. “Hello? Are you hurt?”

Sam startled, sucking in a wet breath as he jolted back up into a sitting position, looking wide-eyed back at the foliage surrounding the river. The woods weren’t really dangerous. Yeah, hypothetically there miiiight be a bear, and there were always things you couldn’t explain in nature, but Cindersap was far enough away from the mines that the chances of a monster getting out and wandering that far were slim to none. And, well, even if they told the kids to be back before dark, there had never been an incident Sam knew about that wasn’t just someone being a little too dumb in the dark. 

Still, sudden weird sounds in the woods in the middle of the night were spooky, and it took his brain a good second to register, oh, person. And not random serial killer person. Prrrrobably. 

Hurriedly wiping his face, Sam let go of a slow breath. “Oh, h-hey Detective, fancy seeing you here… Uh, no, I-I’m fine. Just enjoying the sky.”

‘He’s not fine. He was crying. You heard him,’ Logic reminded him.

‘He believes he’s fine,’ Empathy added in, ‘But that’s because it’s an old hurt. The way someone aching from a lost limb is ‘fine’.’

‘We should give him a pep-talk, tell him to suck it up,’ Endurance offered.

‘We are not going to do that,’ Volition said.

‘Forget what Empathy said, this could be something terrible!’ Inland Empire warned, ‘He’s out alone in the woods and crying. Someone could have recently hurt him!’

‘They could be nearby still,’ Half-light warned.

Harrier waited for Shivers to let him know if anyone else was in the area. Come on… come on… let the woods speak to him…

….but there was nothing but silence. That part of himself weakly trembling. Disconnected from the world around him. 

“I think your world is mad at me,” Harrier worried, before flinching. Six different voices reminding him IT WASN'T ALWAYS ABOUT HIM, as he nervously segued, “Is it mad at you too? Is that why you’re crying?”

Sam gave Harrier a half-surprised look (matching the detective’s flinch. Eugh, loud) before chuckling softly. “That sucks to feel that way, I’m sorry. If you talk to Emily, then maybe the only time the world is really mad at you is when you’re destroying natural resources or littering ‘n shit, but even then, I dunno. I think the world loves us just as much as any living thing, yanno? But love isn’t always shown as kindness, and it’s not something to just, like…passively take in forever. Some of it’s up to you too.”

Taking a shaky little breath, Sam shook his head, amused. “But, nah. I don’t think the river and woods mind so much that I’m chillin’ here.” He let out a bright laugh. “Though my mom might if I track dirt inside again.”

Giving Harrier a curious look, Sam tilted his head, prompting. “What are you up to out here, though? Oooo, are you on a super secret detectives’ case!? Doing a stake-out into the middle of the night, justice never sleeps!” The pantomime Sam did was…vague at best, but clearly playful and trying to convey some sort of thrilling drama.

‘Yes. Tell him yes. It makes you sound cool. He’ll respect you more,’ Authority immediately crowed in, pride swelling at the idea of being on a super secret detective case.

‘Sire,’ Drama said, ‘He’s being playful. He won’t believe you if you say yes. It will be obvious.’

‘Just don’t tell him that you’re out here because you’re hot and aching and your joints hurt.’ Physical Instrument demanded, ‘Don’t be pathetic.’

“No, I just needed to walk around tonight. It feels better to move a bit when your joints hurt,” Harrier explained.

‘I hate you. Go die.’ Physical Instrument growled.

“Do you mind if I stick around to put my feet in the river? It looks cold, it might help,” Harrier asked, giving the river a slightly longing glance. He bet it would help. 

Sam nodded, accepting that answer, before he looked up at the sky with a humming sound. “...ah, nope, it’s gone. I remember a bit ago someone posted a notice on the community board for something to help aches, but that memory is gooooonzo. Sorry, dude.”

Looking back down, Sam snorted in amusement--even if it was snottier than he’d like. “Me? Nah. But it’s gonna be cold as ice. Won’t stop ya, but it might suck ass walking back to your place later.” He laughed lightly. “Sebastian once convinced Alex that swimming in the winter was good for off-season conditioning? Thankfully dude never got the flu or anything, but literally the only reason he stopped was that school got super busy and he just didn’t have the time, and Alex isn’t the guy to half-ass a workout, you know? If it’s not something he can keep up with in a routine, he cuts it out. Kind of admirable, really.”

“I’ll still give it a shot,” Harrier said, lumbering over to the bankside of the river, sitting down and pulling off his snakeskin shoes, putting them aside. Taking a breath, he put his toes near where the water was lapping the dirt, shivering. “Cold,” he admitted, though he kept his toes there for now, digging them into the dirt a bit as protection. 

Some of his temperature issues taken care of, Harrier looked back over at the boy. Not really a boy, probably a man. But Harrier sometimes couldn’t help but see everyone around him as younger than they were. He felt ancient. And brand new. But mostly ancient, in the way his body reminded him that, despite his lost memories, no, you’ve been around a while. Long enough to put himself through the ringer. 

“You were crying,” Harrier reminded Sam, “You’re good at talking past that, but I haven’t forgotten. You should let me help. I’m a police officer. My job is to help.”

“Your funeral,” Sam sang, “Of annoyingly frozen toes walking through the woods.” 

Not that he was really warding the detective off of enjoying the river, or all that concerned. Again, no danger unless it was something you made yourself. 

Wasn’t that the truth~

“I really am fine, you don’t have to do anything. Nothing to do,” Sam reassured, before letting go of a shaky, embarrassed breath. Running a hand through his hair as he looked out over the river. “I just… It’s dumb. My dad’s a mercenary, fighting in Panem right now. War’s not going well. That’s all.”

Sam didn’t think he had no reason or right to cry--crying was natural expression, and thus as holy as any other. He just…hated crying with other people around. Over things he couldn’t change, and just had to…wait. And see what news made it over by letter. What he could manage to catch before his mom swept up all the evidence under a broom and cleaning products.

Harrier cringed a little, looking away. The mercenaries he had just dealt with still fresh in his mind…

‘It’s not all the same. You can’t just assume one person in a group represents all of them,’ Logic cautioned. 

‘And it’s better for your mental health to give them the benefit of the doubt, especially when talking to loved ones,’ Volition argued, ‘The way you want to be given the benefit of the doubt, despite how the other officers act.’

‘Those stereotypes exist for a reason…’ Half Light cautioned.

‘He’s a son talking about his father,’ Empathy whispered, ‘Give the benefit, if not for your own health, then his.’

“Brave of him,” Harrier said, “I’m sorry it’s not going well… is Panem far?” He hesitated, Encyclopedia not speaking up as he asked, “Is it here? We’re not in Panem, right?”

He frowned a little, before taking a breath.

“Nah,” Sam answered, bringing up a hand and pointing his fingers like a star in the air a little above his hip, “This is Novis, where we are. And Panem is…” Sam’s other hand went up and up and left, a little above his head, far enough apart to indicate completely different hemispheres of the planet, “aaaaaaaaaaall the way over here. Couldn’t tell you literally anything more about it, other than there’s a war going on right now. Feels like a different world entirely, for how far it is.”

Putting his hands down again, Sam shrugged a little. “He’s supposed to be coming back soon. Spring’s the latest guess.”

For once, shivers meekly spoke up. Weak. Thin.

shivers

Distant, distant. Beyond the pale. So far from us that it might as well be a fiction, she lays in her bed. Drunk on something that was never meant to be consumed, as she traces her finger against her skin, mimicking the way she had used to trace it against his. Stars dotting his skin showing the places he had been. The terrible things he had seen. Things that hurt her so much more now, to remember. It had all been so exciting in the moment. Time had decayed the excitement. Deteriorating along with him. She will one day burn her hand, and that will be the day she stops feeling his stars against her skin, and will finally be able to forget.

Harrier blinked, before nodding. “That’s far away,” he agreed, “But it’s good he’s coming back. If he’s traveling that far and said he’d be back in spring? He might already be on his way. Perhaps the fighting is done for him?”

“Maybe,” Sam said, his voice not earnest or hopeful or believing. One of the first times Kent was deployed, the guild had been hired to deal with some of the pirating issue around Novoselic. With good tides, you could sail from Novis to Novoselic in under a week. Kent had written that he could make it back for his parents’ anniversary. 

In the mail, Jodi had gotten a glittering, rainbow shell, reminiscent of the mermaid pendant she wore around her neck. She had been so touched, genuinely smitten. 

Sam hadn’t seen his father for another six months.

“We just don’t know where he is, exactly. It’d be hard to do over mail time anyway, but it’s common practice to avoid enemy interception,” Sam said dully, looking past the river and into the trees that blocked their view of the ocean farther out. “So…it’s hard to know. Any news coming out of Panem is equally as pertinent, and as useless.”

‘He’s mad at his father,’ Empathy whispered.

“Pissed at the old man?” Harrier asked. 

Sam frowned. “...I mean…no. The guild pays really well, it’s what’s kept us afloat since, like…forever.” A huff left him. “They have an incredible widow’s payout too. Even Joja’s cash cow can’t compete with that.”

Mostly, Sam’s paycheck went into maintaining his own things, making sure his mom didn’t have to pay for him for…anything. More than adding another mouth into dinner plans and maintaining the roof over their heads that she’d do anyway. Buying Vince ice cream in the summer and new toys for his birthday. It wasn’t enough for anything more, so it was better to just…make sure he wasn’t a burden on anyone else.

Ah, so he wasn’t mad at his father. Wrong impulse, Empathy. 

‘My bad,’ Empathy whispered.

‘No,’ Endurance cut in, a rare moment of coming to back up Empathy as he insisted, ‘He doesn’t feel like he’s allowed to be mad at his father. His father is doing something almost incomprehensibly difficult, under his name. He’s the reason his father had to leave. He’s not allowed to be ungrateful.’

‘Of course not. He should aspire to be everything his father is,’ Authority said.

‘His father is absent,’ Volition said, ‘That’s not something to aspire to. It’s just another shitty, long-gone parent.’

Did Harrier have parents? 

‘At your age?’ Logic whispered, ‘The odds aren’t good.’

“It’s good for him to want to make sure you have the money you need. It’s hard, when you don’t have money,” Harrier admitted, lightly picking at the neon pink raincoat he had fished out between some rocks on the beach, its ends caked dry with some sort of mold that Encyclopedia was… pretty sure wasn’t toxic. “But it’s also hard not to have your father. Maybe that’s even harder.”

Sam gave Harrier a skeptical side-eye, though it was immediately brightened by an amused laugh. “You know, I don’t think a lot of people overestimate war? This might be a first! It’s,” some of Sam’s mirth strained a bit, “yanno, it’s fine. Mom’s always been here, Partinique’s a chill place to live. You might not be getting the best season for it now, but it’s awesome just getting to head over to the beach whenever you want. It occurred to me the other day that there are places where people might go their whole lives never seeing the ocean? That’s baffling, and such a bummer.”

“And he’ll be back soon. …probably,” Sam said a little softer, more hesitant, like he wasn’t really…sure, before his voice strengthened again. “He will. And things will be good. Vincent misses him, I’m looking forward to seeing that reunion.”

There was a moment of confusion, all of his voices trying to decipher that, more than a few of them desperately looking to Shivers. Please, please, he was so disconnected, explain…?

Shivers said nothing. 

‘Just confess you didn’t understand,’ Suggestion whispered, ‘He doesn’t seem the type to hold it against you.’

“Sorry, I don’t know what you mean by ‘overestimate’ war,” Harrier admitted, his shoulders dropping a little, “I’m getting better about learning enough new things to get by, but I’m confused more often than not. And most of what I know about war is what a city looks like after it. I don’t have much experience otherwise.”

Sam nodded a little, understanding. “It’s not like I do either. Novis isn’t really conflict central, on the world stage. But war is…” Sam sighed. It was easier to explain a concept like that in intent, but foreigners sometimes got really weird about Iony’s blessings. “It’s violent. In personal, bloody, survival ways, but in cold, disconnected, ‘strategic’ ways too. Supposedly there are all these rules about what you can and can’t do, to make sure the world doesn’t rip itself apart, but…either there are a lot of loopholes, the standards are pretty lax, or people just don’t follow them.”

“It’s the kind of place no one wants to be,” Sam frowned, looking at the sky just over the treeline. “It changes you, and not in ways that inspire new growth, or a new perspective to consider… It changes you because you see horrors that most people aren’t supposed to see. It’s death, and fear, and…a hollowing of the things that enrich your soul. That’s… {war}.”

Forty pieces inside of himself, already struggling without the vines that Shivers used to connect them to the world, suddenly shuddered. A piece of Novis turning around and, in a moment, slotting itself into a being that was Revachol, Calliou, Insulade, the world beyond the pale, inch by inch disappearing into its folds. The New New Old World, abandoned and discarded by the gods as they moved on to the New New New World. The New Old World its dictators only in age, but slowly crumbling to dust. The old world almost entirely gone. Its ancestors so long forgotten that they do not even get a title, other than The Pale.

shiver

We are in a new world. One not abandoned to the pale. The gods live here. We are not one of their children. Not anymore. Our travel here is the price of sobriety. 

Reptile Brain

You were never supposed to wake up that day… but then, we all already knew that. 

Nerves

Our century does not need a representative. We need to forget. We need to drink ourselves to death. Wisdom cannot save us. The pale consumes, and we must devour ourselves before we can be devoured.

shiver

I refused. I called you back. We are not done, even if we are abandoned. I don’t want our final breath to be to curse the New New New World. I want to sing. I want to disco.

“Have you ever done karaoke?” Harrier asked. “I think that’d make us feel better. Better to sing, if we’re going to talk about war.”

Sam hadn’t meant to reach out. Logically, he knew that was a bad idea. But Empathy was another limb, just another part of him, and in trying to convey something that didn’t have adequate words, or just that he didn’t have them, it was instinctive. Like making a gesture or looking over at something you saw move in the corner of your vision. 

So Sam reached out…and physically cringed, holding himself stiff for a moment as he braced through a sensation like forty people stuffed into a coat closet, all trying to have different parts of the same conversation at the same time. But the moment passed, and he let out a carefully metered breath, giving Harrier a confused look. “What kind of singing is ‘carry-oaky’?”

Harrier gasped. “You don’t know?” he asked, genuinely astounded, “It’s the best sort of singing. It lets you bare your soul in just the perfectly right way. There are thousands and thousands of songs, so it really means something which one you pick. It communicates. It’s a way to show the world what’s in you, the way the world shows itself to you.”

He paused, before adding, “It’s a lot of fun. You take instrumental versions of songs you know the lyrics to, and sing over the instrumental.” 

Sam’s eyes grew, dazzled by the description. “Ooooh…” Before he blinked, tilting his head with a little confusion. “That…sounds really niche for not only a band to record and release a record with only instrumental versions of songs that normally do have lyrics, and then someone to buy them. But it does sound like a lot of fun. Like being a vocalist for any band you want,” he laughed.

“Aw man,” he whined, “Makes me wish I’d brought my guitar out or something. I’d kill a version of that where it’s everything except the main instrumental melody. Or even a harmonic version.”

Closing his eyes, Sam sat up a little more and crossed his arms, considering. “Something tells me this isn’t a good question for information, but it’s, like, the most important question for expression.” He peeked an eye open. “What sort of songs do you like to sing?”

“Oh, sad songs about missing things,” Harrier said immediately, before pausing, actually considering the question, “...maybe. I trashed a hotel to a sad song about missing things. According to a neighbor, I played it for hours on end, every day, just bellowing to it. Looking for the tape was one of the very first things I did when I woke up, wanting to turn it back on before I was capable of understanding the concept of ‘want’. But I had destroyed it when I was drunk, pulling all of the tape out of the cassette and making it unplayable.”

“So, maybe that’s not my favorite type of song to sing, usually? But it’s what I’ve been singing for the last week, and honestly, I crave it as often as I crave booze… though I like to listen to electric. It’s not the sort of disco I think I grew up with, but I think it's the sound that will define us. Which is in itself very disco.”

‘Tell him the thing,’ Encyclopedia begged. 

“Do you know what ‘disco’ means?” Harrier asked.

…it was still a very important question. And Sam nodded in sympathetic understanding with ‘songs about missing things’, and even the kind of fervor you could get into with a song that spoke to your soul in harmony that sometimes ended up with things around you completely trashed. 

And all that was more important than, uh…tape in a ‘cassette’ and…’electric’ music?

“Aw man,” Sam laughed sympathetically, “That sounds like the worst kind of breakup bender. Rough, dude. Even if that wasn’t what you were doing.”

Lighting up a little at something he did know more about, Sam nodded. “Yeah! At least the music type, if that’s what you’re asking. Not usually my vibe, but some of those basslines are really sick.”

‘It wasn’t,’ Half Light quickly jumped in, ‘We were being very cool and independent. Very rock and roll.’

‘It was,’ Electro-chemistry confessed, ‘She was the first thing we had ever been forced to detox from. We couldn’t handle it. We tripled down on every other good feeling, trying to fill the void she left.’

‘Your toes are starting to stop hurting,’ Pain Threshold warned, ‘That’s a bad sign.’

Harrier pulled his feet back from the water, digging his toes into the slightly dryer mud as he nodded. “It’s a genre of music, yeah. A pretty kickass one too. But calling it ‘disco’ kind of was a big claim, I think. The world felt like it was ending on a high note,” he said, repeating shivers’ whispers, able to see in his mind’s eye the sheer energized joy that music was written with. Things still being hard, of course, but so many big wins recently that people talked about the future using ‘Utopia’ in entirely unironic ways. A brief, brief moment where the ideal had won, and that idealism was living up to every hope that people had fought for.

…and then reinforcements had arrived…the New Old World having simply been traveling, their enemies’ moment of triumph literally a logistical ‘in-between’ phase between when the war had ‘stalled’ versus when it would be ‘won’, for the Coalition. 

A city shelled into ruins…

“And so the music they made felt like it was going to be what defined them. That victory music. Where everyone and everything was the ‘king’ and ‘queen’ of something,” Harrier smiled lightly, his eyes distant. No longer just ‘seeing’ that moment, but living it. Shivers pulling him back and back and back, standing in the recording booths, sitting in the diners while ideas were exchanged by excited band mates, playing the records without a band, because the REAL stars of the show were the audience, dancing out their victory, loud and proud and flamboyant and alive.

A brief, flash in the pan moment. Centuries, millenniums, were a long time. ‘Disco’ hadn’t lasted fifty years. Hubris. Bright, beautiful hubris.

“It’s a Vesper word, a shortened version of discothèque, which was a derivative of bibliothèque,” Harrier explained. “It means literally ‘library of music’, and used in shorthand? To learn. Essentially, ‘disco’ would mean that you could learn about something through the music. Learn about the people who played and sang it. Disco the final definition of what our music was… but it wasn’t,” Harrier learned, his voices still whispering to him, informing him as he explained to Sam, “I don’t think you could find most of anyone now, who defines themselves by disco. They’d pick a thousand other genres or types of music first. Like sad songs about missing things. That feels more disco to me than being the ‘Dancing Queen’.” Harrier chuckled, the name referenced with fond, if exasperated reverence. 

“Where I come from? It’s going to be electric music.” Harrier said. “It’s not yet. But it will be. That sound will be our Disco.” 

Sam crossed his legs and looked over at Harrier, getting the impression he was listening to something…big. Not like history lessons in school or people getting on their soapboxes about the ‘important things in life’, but…like when he made pancakes for his mom’s birthday, and she talked about waking up at age 7, 8, 9, how the smell of vanilla permeated through the house with the soft sounds of baseboards creaking from people shuffling around, and the moment of pure joy biting into that first fluffy piece. Like when he admired the community garden in the spring, despite sneezing so much it made him dizzy, and the look of flattery and pride in Evelyn’s face when he mentioned how much he loved the flowers. 

Something ‘big’ to life. 

“Library of music…” Sam echoed in a quiet hum, turning it over in his head. ‘Disco’ a concept, not a genre, though the genre was of victory, overcoming the odds and reveling in it. That…put a pretty different spin on the tracks he’d heard. He’d always gotten a sense of ‘fun’ from disco, a clear dance groove, but thinking about it as hope? Not future hope, wishing on what’s to come, but hope in the here and now…

Sam laughed a bit. “I might be a little biased, but I feel like any musician that’s passionate about their music can make their own Disco. If some of your soul isn’t in what you make, if it’s not something that grows and forms into something new and new again with every person that experiences it, I really don’t know what they’re doing. Soulless art just feels like an insult.”

“That does make me curious about what electric music sounds like, though,” Sam said with a casual wistfulness. “Hope we get some over here, once it’s become Disco where you’re from. It’s always exciting to hear something new, but music that’s going to be that important and defining to people? Fuck yeah, dude, I’m all about it.”

shivers

It will not come over. We ourselves should not be here. We have seen what happens when the old worlds force themselves onto the new worlds. We will not define ourselves, by trying to influence or control what comes next. Leave the new, new, new world to themselves. Electric, likely, will not define them.

“I’m sure this place will make something close enough to it, someday,” Harrier said, tilting his head as he admitted, “I’m pretty sure ‘radio’ helps inspire it though. There’s a sort of scratchy, crunch sound radio makes. Electric music is first inspired by that sound. Maybe the sound a stereo makes when it's playing a record will inspire something similar.”

“And I agree, everyone has their own, personal disco. I simply meant for where I’m from. Elysium’s disco.” Harrier shrugged. “I feel like you asked me a similar question, but I want to word it differently: what’s your disco?” 

Sam blinked in surprise, his eyes widening a little before a smile started to grow on his face. He’d heard about the ‘radio’ thing from Sebastian, but…a scratchy, crunch sound? Like records but without the music?

That was exactly what Miku had been talking about!!! Convergent music evolution, and he knew one of the people!!! That was so cool!! HA! Maybe he’d actually get to play some electric music himself, way sooner than he’d think!

Riding that giddy wave, Sam beamed at Harrier. “Experimental noise rock. Let me go on a good riff, play around with tuning, have the whole band just playing their heart out, regardless of what music “should” sound like or what people expect… There’s nothing like it.” Sam let out a slightly sheepish laugh. “At least until I actually perform some. Can’t give the whole review just having band practice in my room.”

“Very disco,” Harrier said approvingly, “I’d love to hear it sometime. Music is good. I still think singing is the most soothing, but listening to music, dancing to it with your whole body? That’s how you heal. That’s how you express!”

‘Please don’t shout’, Composure begged, ‘You are a half-dead older man who he still barely knows, sitting with him in the dark in the woods. It’s only been a few weeks, death still reeks off of us. You’ll frighten him.’

“Ahem,” Harrier cleared his throat, looking away, sniffing through his bloated, red-veined nose, suddenly feeling very self conscious, “Maybe it’s time I move on. You seem to be feeling better.”

Sam gave a delighted laugh. “Hey, maybe one of these days we’ll convince Lewis to let us play for a festival. If you guys are still around, I’ll expect to see you in the crowd, alright? It’ll be an experience you don’t want to miss!”

Calming a bit, Sam took a breath and nodded at the dark woods around them. “You know, I actually am. Thanks for that, Detective. Aaaaand I should probably be getting back too, don’t wanna freak the family out not being back by dawn.”

Pushing himself up, Sam gave Harrier a snickering look. “Good luck walking back on ice blocks.”

‘He’s right,’ Hand-Eye coordination warned, ‘Our legs’ reaction time is not going to be great.’

‘We can handle it,’ Pain Threshold assured. 

‘You damn well better handle it,’ Physical Instrument warned, ‘Or I’ll give you some real pain to endure.’

‘Why am I the one being threatened, I didn’t even say anything,’ Endurance said.

Harrier pouted a little. He wished Physical Instrument was nicer to him, sometimes. He supposed he had kind of put the guy through a lot, though. It’d make sense he was bitter.

“I’ll be alright,” Harrier assured, hearing Esprit De Corps warn, “Though my legs did fall asleep, so I am going to stretch here for a moment before heading out myself. You should go straight home. Crimes don’t actually happen more often in the early morning hours, but the ones that do are tougher to solve. Best just get home safe.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Sam snorted, giving Harrier a playfully irreverent salute as he headed back off into the trees. It was still probably late enough that none of Marnie’s animals were awake, so as long as he could walk by the farm? He was golden. 

…and, yanno, open his window to sneak back in without waking up his mom or little brother, but Sam was awesome at that. No one would even notice he left.

-

His parents had given Ventus his assignment at an opportune time. Not by design, his birthday could have landed at any time, but he had been given his assignment with plenty of time to consider how he could best use his upcoming access to the castle. He wouldn’t even have to sneak in from the gate, under these circumstances. He had been given an invitation. Old enough to attend the masquerade. 

Technically he was old enough. And technically, there wasn’t anything particularly dubious about that invitation for a 13-year-old. The masquerade wasn’t a scandalous event in concept. It was meant to be an event that allowed the elites to forget who they were for a while, drop some of the endless performance and script of their roles, and just allowed them to hang out with each other, along with a few carefully selected, relatively attractive slightly less than elites. 

But, really, the only reason Ventus would be expected to attend was if the head of his house opted not to go, and as the next potential head of his family, he was allowed to attend in his parents’ place. 13-year-olds were technically politically important, but it was rare for them to be actually influential enough to want to invite them to parties and rub elbows with them under less than professional circumstances. Usually the actual head of the house, the person of influence, was more suitable for an event like this.

But if Ventus’ parents weren’t going to attend, and sent their son instead? No one could turn Ventus away. Even if he could already feel a few heads giving him a double take as he walked in, eyes behind elaborate masks unable to pin exactly who he was, but already wondering ‘Who forfeited their invitation to let a child here?’.

Ventus was a boy in every conceivable idea of the term. Hiding his face and putting himself in a suit did not make him look like a shorter adult. It was obvious in him, and rather than feeling anonymous at the masquerade, he felt terribly, terribly seen, as he wandered through the crowds, trying to work out where either of the survivors were. 

After all, this was a ball for elites. Naegi Makoto now absolutely counted. Surely, possibly, his sister… or the Guiness family’s daughter, heir-apparent to their fortune. Perhaps she was…?

Ventus had to hope one of them was at this party. Then he had to figure out how to actually get access to them. 

But where… where could he even start? He might stick out like a sore thumb in this crowd, but everyone else was just elaborate dresses or beautiful suits or bright, shining sets of armor all hidden under elaborate, beautiful decorated masks. Everyone else was bigger than him. Everyone’s eyes were following his movement, still just surprised to see him pass by, to exist in their space. 

Maybe this had been a bad idea. He was not blending in. He felt vulnerable here…

The music, a mix of speakers and an actual band performing, thumped and echoed through the ballroom, making it hard to catch snippets of conversation either. It explained why someone had to tap on his shoulder, Ventus startling as he looked over his shoulder. 

He couldn’t even see this person’s eyes. Just a general, masculine build, as the voice, muffled behind the full-face mask, asked with apparent interest, “Are you here with someone, gentleman?”

Gentleman? 

Ventus blinked, a little thrown off by that. He straightened, bowing slightly in curtsy, the man bowing back, as Ventus said–tilting his voice a little lower, defensively– “Uh, yes. Quite a gathering.”

“Isn’t it?” the man said, sounding more and more delighted. “I do love the atmosphere of such events. Though the company can get a bit stuffy sometimes. You seemed to be looking for something to do as much as I am,” the man said, sounding still, just, delighted as he said, “Perhaps you and I could go get ourselves a drink and pass the time together?”

Ventus blinked. Oh… maybe he hadn’t been standing out as much as he thought? Clearly this man thought he was older than he was. Ventus was now, as of a few weeks ago, technically legally allowed to drink, but at this age he was expected to only drink in the family home, wine and mead for dinners and when spending time with friends, parents, or mentors. Essentially, people he could trust.

This man was none of those, but was still offering a drink? Clearly, he must think Ventus was just shorter than everyone else. 

It was actually a bit of a relief, to realize he didn’t look as young as he felt right now, even as he shook his head. “No, sir, thank you. I’m just admiring the view.”

“So am I,” the man smiled wider, before putting his hand on Ventus’ back, “I insist, please, come with me.”

Oh, what? Wait… “Um, I really am busy…”

“You just said you weren’t. Let’s not be rude, it’s decent to accept a drink when offered.”

Ventus wasn’t really sure how to argue with that, feeling the pressure of the man’s hand on his back starting to lead him through the crowd as he tried fruitlessly to come up with an excuse, etiquette insisting to him he couldn’t just tell the older man to fuck off, he wasn’t high enough ranking for that–

“Actually, I’m going to dance with him,” a woman said, and before Ventus could even really understand what was happening, a hand had gently pushed him back while another hand gripped the other man’s wrist, hard, as the woman stepped between him and the man. “You’re welcome to move along now.”

“How dare you put your hands on…” the man snarled, for a moment, squaring his shoulders in a way that suggested he was going to get ugly… before something about the woman in front of him seemed to ping in him, his eyes widening as he suddenly startled. “O-oh, of course, um, my apolog–”

“Goodbye,” the woman said, her tone warm and friendly. The word final. 

The man seemed to stutter something, and without so much as a glance at Ventus, bowed low before hurrying into the crowd. 

The woman raised her hand, making a vague gesture in his direction, before turning to Ventus. Like the man, her mask was more all-consuming than most, it wrapping a golden metal around the upper half of her face, eyes hidden behind black, sheer cloth as her hair was wrapped up into a tight bun that paraded a mixture of flowers and feathers, but mostly jewels, that were haloed around her head almost like a saint’s sigil. Something vaguely ‘god-like’ in its structuring, ethereal and a little intimidating. 

But as intimidating as the mask was, her smile was warm, almost perfectly so. Friendly and inviting, as she held her hand out, “Do you know the viennese waltz?”

“Of course, my lady,” Ventus said, taking a swing in the dark that this was likely a noble lady of the court, before insisting pridefully, “I know more complicated dances than that too!”

“I’m sure you do, but I’d just like to do the viennese. It’s easiest to speak around,” the woman said. 

Ventus had mentioned he knew other forms of waltz because, well, the ballroom wasn’t doing the viennese. They were doing the foxtrot right now. And trying to do your own waltz while everyone else was doing another wasn’t going to work. They’d run into people, they’d be off-beat. 

But it seemed the lady had known something Ventus hadn’t, because almost as soon as they got into starting position, the song had changed, and suddenly it was one suitable for a viennese, everyone else in the ballroom shifting to the change in music tempo accordingly. Astounding… did she know the songs the bands would play? In their order?

The singer, singing to the new, slower temple, sang out, 

“In you and I, there’s a new land.

天使たち in flight,

My sanctuary~”

“What’s ‘Tenshi-tachi’?” Ventus wondered, listening to the song, several words, entire sentences, in some language he didn’t recognize. That was odd. You didn’t usually hear music not in Common, in Luminary. 

“It means ‘Angels’,” the woman said, the two dancing easily, the pacing simple to keep up with, “Creatures from another religion. It’s a Dicean song. I asked a well known band from the border to come down for the masquerade, to get a taste of our neighbor’s culture. Isn’t it lovely?”

“You picked?” Ventus asked, “Did you organize the queen’s masquerade?” 

The woman smiled warmly. “For the most part. I had help. Now, I’m aware that the whole point of the masks is to be anonymous… but I did find myself wondering who you are. Forgive me, you seem too young for the party I’ve organized.”

“Is it that obvious?” Ventus laughed awkwardly, before startling, “I have an invitation! I didn’t sneak in! My parents, Lady and Lord Shard, sent me to represent our family. They couldn’t make it.”

“I see,” the woman said, and while that friendly smile didn’t waver, Ventus could hear something judgmental in her tone, as she said, “They have older children. You must be young Ventus though. They sent you to a masquerade?”

“I asked to go,” Ventus explained, “I… I’m competing to be the heir of my family. I wish to meet my fellow peers.”

“I’m aware of how the Shard family picks their next heir,” the woman said.

Then silence. Leaving Ventus to fill in the next part. To volunteer something. 

“...w-well,” Ventus swallowed, suddenly feeling unsure of himself, “It’s looking quite likely I’ll pass my family quest! So they sent me.”

“You had a birthday not long ago,” the woman recited, “Those quests typically take years. And are borderline impossible. But you’re looking likely to complete it?”

This woman knew what she was talking about, more than Ventus had expected. Only some people knew about the Shard family quests to begin with, but this woman knew enough to guess that if Ventus had only just gotten his quest, and was now being treated like the heir? That was either a lie, or the masquerade was a part of it. She could guess that he was there for a purpose.

And as Ventus tried to imagine what it looked like from her perspective, he suddenly, nervously added in, “I’m not meant to hurt anyone.”

This wasn’t some assassination attempt from the weapons family. 

“That’s good,” the woman said, and she did seem to relax slightly at that. “You know, I have eyes and ears everywhere. It’s a perk of being an organizer. And this party can be dangerous for…” she paused, looking for the correct word, “certain types of people. Perhaps if you told me what you were looking for? I could assist.” 

“Oh, I can’t…” Ventus looked around nervously, “Quests are secret.”

“If you’re not here to harm anyone, you’re here for information,” the woman said, adjusting her footing to send Ventus into a spin, as the dance demanded, Ventus a little dizzy as she caught him, the two stepping right back into her rhythm as she said, “You don’t have to tell me what your quest is to ask for information.”

Ventus, again, felt a little overwhelmed. He wasn’t entirely sure who this woman was, but she spoke openly and boldly about things that Ventus had only ever heard anyone refer to in conspiratorial whispers. He wasn’t sure what to do with someone speaking this plainly to him about things that felt dangerous. Worse, she knew who he was, but he didn’t know her. 

“...why would you help me?” Ventus finally asked warily. This not the kind of battle he was used to. If she had threatened him, or held a knife to his neck, this would have been a lot easier. But she was just asking questions. And being nice. It was… discombobulating. 

“For a certain type of person, you’re the only appealing option around,” the woman said, her friendly, warm smile slipping lightly. Briefly, something feral in her expression. A smile that was more baring her teeth than anything else… before it was hidden behind a gentle laugh. “I’d like to encourage you to go home, but I know how the Shard family can be. I don’t want to send you home with nothing. I don’t want to hear you came to harm because I didn’t want any kids at this party. If whatever you ask isn’t important? I’ll be happy to help, before kicking you out of here.”

There was something playful in that last sentence. Apologetic, but in a ‘come on, can you blame me?’ sort of way. She reminded Ventus of kind tutors and friendly older siblings of his classmates. She reminded Ventus a little bit of Prince Kaito, for that period of time when Saber was bringing the then teenager around to the manor a lot–

He knew who this was.

Ventus felt his blood freeze, eyes widening as he realized it all at once. The way the ballroom seemed to move around her, the way the man had reacted to her, that gesture, like she was indicating to someone watching to follow him. He felt immediately foolish that he hadn’t realized before. Only that odd smile, the one that just showed teeth rather then pleasure, cluing him in as he suddenly stuttered softly, “Y-your grace–”

“Oh, no,” the woman laughed warmly, “My mask failed me? That’s such a bummer. Don’t say it too loud, okay? I think some people still haven’t caught on.” 

That was a lie. Now that Ventus was looking for it, he realized there was so much space between them and every other dancer. No one wanting to risk brushing against the queen. 

Oh god, oh god, what was he supposed to do. Was his quest treason? Just finding out information? Was it treason if he presented to his family information different from what the castle had put out!? Did it matter if it was treason!? Would the queen lock him up now, here, for the possibility he might be working against her!? 

He might end up in the dungeon today. The part of the dungeon where they don’t write down your name. They just close the door and it never opens again…

“Take a breath,” The woman–Queen Kaede–encouraged, “You’re going to hyperventilate at this rate. Watch me,” she said, before parting her perfectly painted lips, taking a deep breath in…. Then after five seconds, letting it out. In, then out…

Ventus, feeling like he was trapped in a nightmare, followed the queen’s breathing purely because it was the queen who had asked him to. But after a moment, he did feel his mind clear, as he whispered, “I’m not here to do any harm, your grace.”

“You said,” Queen Kaede smiled, “Aw, you’re really freaked out. That was another reason I couldn’t leave you alone tonight. Kaito told me once, that you were a sweet kid, for the Shards. Not exactly one of their hardened warriors. And now here they’ve gone and sent you right into the middle of one of my balls, not even a month after your birthday… Saber would have disapproved. That’s too much all at once.”

Saber. Ventus had to remember Saber. He had to… “You knew my brother?”

“Of course!” she laughed, “My cousin had a way of effortlessly mixing and matching different social circles. I think I’ve had at least one conversation with almost everyone that disappeared during that terrible time. I lost a lot of sleep, losing so suddenly so many friends.”

Ventus’ mind cleared. 

This woman was no friend of Saber’s. Saber rarely had friends. And Ventus knew of them, when he made one. He was told so he could know who to trust. 

This woman wasn’t trying to help him. She was fishing for information. Testing the dangers of the noble weapons family by talking to their youngest. 

He needed to mislead her. 

“Oh, good,” Ventus said, suddenly smiling, “I should have guessed you knew Saber. I know… I know you all did everything you could to find him.”

“We did,” the queen said sadly, “We really did. We still are, in some ways. We’d all like to know what happened to him.”

No you didn’t. The castle wanted everyone to stop talking about it.

Ventus smiled sadly, nodding… before he looked around nervously. Leaning in close to whisper, “Your grace…I’m here looking for more information on the inventor, Miu Iruma? Unofficial advances. My family has heard some… rumors. About her technology in the weapons market. I hoped elites making trades with her might speak more plainly in a mask and with some liquor.”

“...”

Ventus waited a beat. He got the sense the queen was analyzing him. Assessing how likely that question was true. He wondered if his initial fears would betray him.

“I was afraid to mention it to you, your grace,” Ventus whispered, looking down in shame, “I don’t want you to think the Shard family is in a position of weakness in the arms race. We’re certain we can compete with anything she’s making… we just need to know what it is.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say. Kaede suddenly laughed lightly, “Oh, that… that makes sense. Do not be concerned, the Shard family has been a reliable noble family for generations. I’d be foolish to toss them aside at the first shiny new crossbolt.”

“But I’ll spare you some time,” the queen whispered, “Miu Iruma does not make weapons. She seems to be a bit averse to the idea. We have actually tried to commission new weapons, and she has refused. So if your quest is about seeking out new technology? That’s a dead-end for you.”

Ventus sighed, like a weight was off his chest. It was very believable, because he was sighing in relief. Sighing that the queen seemed to believe him. “Thank you, your grace. I can go home with that.”

The queen nodded warmly at that, before saying, “I’m going to have some guards escort you to your carriage, young master. Trust me, as someone who was required to go to events like these at your age… one day, you’ll understand I’m doing you a favor.” The queen stopped, the music ending as she bowed to Ventus, a baffling thing for a queen to do, but understandable if she was ‘anonymous’ right now, the two straightening up… before the queen’s eyes suddenly seemed to narrow. “Ventus…”

Ventus startled, having been about to head to the front doors. “Yes, your grace?”

“...” She stared at him, saying his name again, like she was remembering something… before she smiled. “I know how you can impress your family. I would like to invite you to speak with me at a brunch, perhaps tomorrow? A sit-down with the queen herself? No doubt that would impress your notoriously difficult to please father.”

…why???

But Ventus, of course, could only say, “Uh, yes, of course my que–uh, my lady,” he corrected, looking around as Kaede laughed lightly, “Yes, my lady.”

“Good. I’ll have a carriage fetch you tomorrow,” Kaede nodded, before turning back to the crowds. 

Ventus hurried to the gates, where guards were already waiting for him, escorting him to a carriage to take him home. Absolutely no closer to his goal… but somehow?? With a personal invitation to speak to the queen herself more at length!?

He could see why Saber had hated masquerades. Those things were confusing. 

-

It had been something on and off Demyx’s mind for a while. 

There was… some urgency to the question, maybe. They were planning to leave the country, after all. It might be Demyx’s last chance for a while.

But what kind of ‘chance’ was he even asking for? Luminary was a big country. Assuming his parents had stayed even where he had last left them, that still put them several cities away. And their work hadn’t been the kind that allowed them to stay in one place for long periods of time. They built buildings, structures, and their work took them to where things were being built. 

They could be… anywhere.

….but, well, that wasn’t a good reason to not ask. So he knocked on Ienzo’s lab’s door and said, “Ieeeeenzoooooo~ you busy?” 

There was a moment of silence, before a sigh, some quiet footsteps before Ienzo opened the door, giving Demyx a small smile. “Always. But I can take a break if you need something?”

There wasn’t a…time limit, really, on figuring out conditioning nullification. Sure, Ienzo would prefer his work to come to fruition as soon as possible, and it would be perfect if he managed it before they left the country. He was confident in his method now, but reverse engineering marijuana’s effect on conditioning without leaving someone feeling high was like…putting together a very intricate model with pieces so tiny you needed a massively silly magnifying glass and the finest point tweezers you could imagine. Each little iota needing to be put precisely in its place…because if you didn’t, any number of brain issues could occur and the last thing Ienzo wanted was to leave ex-Indentureds at even more of a disadvantage. 

If he finished before they left, then he could have Xiomara and Rantarou test it, just in case and…then he’d have done it. 

But there was no case to rush. 

Still, Ienzo gave Demyx a more lidded look. “...if you did just want to hang out, though, I’m not really feeling up to going out today. I, uh…” Ienzo flushed lightly. “I feel much better than yesterday, but not fully up.”

“Nah, we can chill here,” Demyx said, pushing past Ienzo and wandering inside, looking around the lab. Lots of papers around, lots of notes. The walls covered in chalk formulas. There were even beakers in here these days. A real, proper lab. 

Which was good, since the family had essentially given Ienzo a whole room to work in that could have been used as another bedroom. It was good to see the space being utilized. Another reminder why they did spoil the young researcher a little bit, even more than the Heart/Light Trio. Ienzo just made better use of it all.

“Actually, I diiiid kind of come here with a request in mind,” Demyx admitted, throwing his butt onto the table they had dragged in there for Ienzo’s work desk, “But if you’re feeling funky, we don’t actually have to do it today. I just thought, with your chibi apparently able to jump around… do you think he’d be able to jump around like Amaina can, and find my parents?”

Thankfully, nothing was boiling at the moment. A lot of Ienzo’s work was mental, yes, but…well…he had weed. And he knew how to titrate. He didn’t exactly have a bunch of reactive chemicals to work with, and getting them was risky, but there were still some things he could figure out about the physical makeup of weed just from more simple observations. Ienzo didn’t think it’d hurt his understanding any to try, so he did. 

But instead, Ienzo just shuffled together some of his notes before sitting on one of the chairs--he…did sit on the floor a lot when he was working alone, but Ienzo was not about that neck strain life looking up at Demyx so far--settling into whatever had brought Demyx to--

Ienzo gave Demyx a blatantly surprised look, before his expression softened. Oh. 

“...” Ienzo sighed quietly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Zexion and I still aren’t…fully sure about that ability. I tried to tell you guys before, I didn’t send him to Prince Kokichi. Zexion just…did it. And he said it was more impulsive than he’d like. He…apparently was able to see the connection Kairi and Kokichi had, could move along it barely thinking about it… The reason it fucked me up so bad was because he tried to do other stuff, influencing Kokichi’s mind, and you can imagine how that went.” Ienzo rolled his eyes a little. 

“What that means, theoretically, is, yes, Zexion might be able to travel more like Amaina, but we’re not there yet. And he’s not made for stealth either, so if we happen to trip across the wires of some other Empaths, we may be making some enemies…”

Ienzo gave Demyx a softer look after explaining all the issues. “...but we can try. I…might be able to identify their signatures from your memories with them, and theoretically I should be able to find them that way.”

“Eh, only if you can,” Demyx shrugged, his tone surprisingly calm as he said, “I just thought I’d ask. I mean, I’d feel like such a bullshit son, if my parents were literally just around here,” he gestured around vaguely, indicating the city, “And I left without telling them I was alive? Cause they gotta think I’m dead or something… I can’t let them think that. Not now that I’m out and about. Not and leaving the country, you know?”

Demyx laughed weakly, shrugging as he stared at the floor, “They’ve probably already grieved their deadbeat son. But maybe me appearing out of the blue would make their day anyway.”

“It does feel like a wasted opportunity, if they were in the same city,” Ienzo agreed with a small smile. “A lot of us don’t have people outside the factory, but your parents, Isa’s sister… I suppose everyone would feel differently about it, but I think it’s worth considering whether to reach out or not. We have the choice in front of us, and it’s a privilege to choose.”

A part of Ienzo felt like Demyx was a little wasted on his parents, but…well, he knew how cruel that could be improperly said, especially when Demyx had thought about reaching out of his own volition. 

Giving Demyx a little nod, Ienzo asked, “May I?”

“Oh, now?” Demyx startled, “If you think you’ve got this? Go for it! Brain blast me!” He smiled, kicking his legs happily. 

Ienzo startled right back. “Wh-why’d you ask if you didn’t mean now?!” Letting go of an exasperated sigh, Ienzo shook his head and reached out to Demyx, finding an open invitation and…well, here we go. Memories of his parents…

-

A 5-year-old Demyx was walking across a steel beam about thirty feet in the air like it was the most natural thing in the world, holding a small box of food as he called out, “Daaaaddyyyyy! I brought you your lunch!!”

A man with his hair tied back, a scar down the side of his face that blinded him in one eye, and perhaps more surprising than that, in this memory younger than Demyx was now, glanced over in surprise at the approach of his son, before smiling warmly. “Aw, being the supervisor’s little helper?”

(The memory fuzzed and twitched, the mind flinching away from the unfortunate wording.)

“Yep!” Demyx said proudly, knowing the ‘supervisor’ was Mommy, who was down on the ground working on some blueprints, “She says you gotta work through lunch, you bum, so don’t come down!”

“Tyrant,” his father chuckled, reaching over to scoop up his son once he was close enough, sitting him between his legs on the steel beam as he opened up the box of food on Demyx’s lap, “We’re going to be little rebels then. We’re going to eat our lunch soooo slow that Mommy’s going to come up here to yell at us herself. And then we’re convincing her to actually eat a lunch today, okay?”

“Kay~” Demyx giggled, kicking his legs freely over the long drop, entirely at ease at the height, “I’m pretty sure both the strawberry cakes are mine!”

“Oh? So what, all the meats and greens are mine?” his dad chuckled.

“Yep! Cakes are mine!” Demyx said certainly.

“Well, then I’m stealing one of your cakes,” his father scoffed, ruffling Demyx’s hair, “And as payment, you can have some of my meats and greens.”

“Nooooo,” Demyx whined. But a quick hug and a firm yes from his father stopped his complaining, as both he and his father, of course, started by eating the strawberry cake slices first…

-

o_o Breathe, Ienzo

Yeah. Yeah, he knew. 

Ienzo hadn’t gone digging for a memory. With Demyx knowing exactly what Ienzo was looking for, he had just felt for the easiest accessible thing, barely peering in at all, really. It was…really sweet, the first memory that had come to mind for Demyx. Ienzo knew the story of course, his parents dismissing his passion and talent, wishing him off to the program. Knew there was closeness there but…well, enough that Ienzo did have thoughts like before. 

Seeing such…a simple, playful moment of love?

“No wonder heights don’t bother you at all,” Ienzo hummed, finding the ambient recognition Demyx had had as a child, feeling his father - there, the signature - and… Okay, it was like sweeping, but for things more subtle than Empaths, c’mon Zexion…

Ienzo’s brows furrowed as he concentrated, starting to sweat after a moment.

Demyx watched Ienzo. And, while he really almost never did this, having spent so much of his life not using his Empath abilities that they never felt like an impulse to him… he reached in, feeling Ienzo. Checking on his strain…

He reached over to touch Ienzo’s shoulder. “Hey man,” he smiled, “You can stop, it’s okay. I think we can both tell that they’re not in the city… and if the area you’re looking in is right? They’re not close either. It’s okay. I’ll ask Namine or the Ouma or someone later… I’ll send a letter.”

Ienzo just frowned, giving one last big {push}--

Before he let go of a deep breath, opening his eyes. His breathing heavy, though the apology in his gaze focused. “Sorry. It’s exciting to try to push at my new boundaries, but I do still have them.” Another shuddery breath as Ienzo pinched the bridge of his nose, tipping his head slightly so his fingertips were applying pressure right on the underside of his brow bone. 

“...there is still the chance they might be on the path we’re taking to Dicea. But a letter does seem more sure.” Ienzo smiled softly. “It’s strange seeing you without the mohawk. Somehow I’ve just applied it to you at any age.”

“Hah! Nah, I discovered that kickass haircut at the late, late age of 16, actually,” Demyx snickered, leaning back as he shrugged, “I went through a bunch of different haircuts. The mohawk was actually one of my less involved ones. I was really into braids for a while, I tried a dozen different braid styles before I got fed up with the upkeep and shaved a lot of them off. Then the mohawk~”

“Still, maybe on the way? Maybe I’ll get lucky.” Demyx grinned, giving Ienzo an appreciative look. “Thanks bud… Hey, maybe this is a shitty segue. But I’ve been meaning to check in on you about this and, I don’t know, there’s never a good way to bring it up…”

Demyx whistled, looking up at the ceiling… before just saying plainly, “You wanna talk about that whole ‘finding your parents dead’ thing?” he gave Ienzo a concerned look, “Cause… that sounds like it sucked.”

Ienzo snorted softly, leaning himself a little more over the table. “It helps that your hair just does that, naturally. The braids sound interesting, though. I have a feeling you weren’t really concerned with cultural significance, but I’d be curious how close some of your styles got to various traditional braids from around the world.”

Granted, Ienzo only knew of a few, but he was certain there were far more than even a generous guess would wager. 

Nodding a little at the thanks--it had been worth a try--Ienzo shut his eyes for a moment…before pausing. Slowly looking back up at Demyx as he lowered his hand to the table. 

His expression blank…before he sighed. Looking a very Zexion flavor of mildly bored. “There are edge cases out there, but I think most people aren’t excited to find corpses. Yeah, it sucked.”

Looking passively into the corner of the room as he propped his head up with a hand, Ienzo shrugged. “I woke up. My parents had a breakfast parlor they liked to use in the mornings when they were home, since it faced east and it was designed to take advantage of early morning illumination. I went in, saw two hanging corpses. Just stood there for a while until guards came, and I didn’t know what to do so Zexion asked to handle it, and I ceded control over to him. That’s the story.”

Demyx winced. Frowning as he tried to picture it. Stepping into a room, brightly lit from the sun. Silhouettes of the people you trusted most in the world. The people who were as certain to be there every day, as much as the sun rises and the moon sets…

…Demyx’s eyes reddened, his lower lip wobbling. “Dude. That sucks.”

(Ienzo’s heart was beating far too quickly. Especially for the lack of indication on his face.)

“Yeah.”

…

…

(Faster.)

(A tremor went through the placid expression.)

“...I think something’s always been fucked up with me,” Ienzo admitted, his voice carefully even, “I inspected them. Not in some tragic, naive sense of actually checking they were dead--I knew. But I knew my parents wouldn’t kill themselves either. They had a trip planned for Othain in a few days, and while some people might not understand their expenditures, my parents didn’t waste money for the fun of it. That’s how I knew that their injuries didn’t match the ropes.”

Ienzo’s eyes grew more distant. “There was nothing in the room that indicated a struggle other than that. But even if assassins did fix everything, I doubted that was the room where they died. Since it was overnight, I’d probably guess their room, but I was never allowed a chance to go check it after that.”

Demyx looked aghast. 

Just openly horrified, his lips thin with distress as he listened. He was now gripping the edge of the table between his legs, leaning towards Ienzo. His posture suggested he wanted to hug him, but hadn’t quite committed. Not composed enough to fulfill the act, as he whimpered, “There’s nothing wrong with you! Little Ienzo just found his dead parents, how is he supposed to act!? I wouldn’t know how I’d react finding my parents like that now, and I’m a grown-ass guy!”

Another tremor. 

“Probably not by acting like a mortician,” Ienzo said, a little gasp at the end of his words, finding himself short of breath. “Probably…crying, or something. Not elevating an entire mental construct to run your life for you because you knew you didn’t have any forensics training so it took you forever to really understand the wounds you saw.”

Ienzo’s eyes darkened, a haze going over them. “I’m sure they’d be happy I figured it out. Always were so proud of their little freak, friendless genius. Maybe I was always supposed to end up where I did. Sometimes it feels like I was thoroughly prepared for it.”

“Hey!” Demyx pouted, that getting him moving, reaching over to roughly grab Ienzo, pulling him into a sloppy hug as he patted Ienzo’s back, “Who’s friendless!? You just didn’t know you were friends with me yet! I’m proud of our little freak genius too! Stop being an ass to yourself about how you reacted to your dead parents, there’s no ‘right’ way to react to something like that…”

Demyx paused, before amending, “Except for maybe not going ‘muwahahaha, I did it’, that’s maybe the wrong way to react. General rule! Otherwise, nothing is normal, no expectations!”

Ienzo jolted as Demyx pulled him in, his chair clattering back a bit as…he was enveloped. And the tremors shattered as tears started spilling down Ienzo’s cheeks, Ienzo hiding against Demyx’s shoulder as he clutched onto his friend’s sides. His heart thudding so fiercely he was sure Demyx could feel it.

“It’s fucked up,” he said, muffled by Demyx’s clothes, “I don’t even know if I’m mad they died, I’m mad that everything exploded when they died. I barely even knew them…”

“See, that makes so much sense to me!” Demyx said, patting Ienzo on the back some more, holding him tighter when he felt that familiar warmth suddenly dripping against his chest. “You were, what, 7? I know, I know, you’re about to say ‘oh I totally got the concept of death because I was a cool-ass boy prodigy who dissected frogs probably, designed my own ancient coffin our ancestors used,’ that sort of thing, but…”

Demyx sighed, closing his eyes, “That’s not what death is. That’s just dying. The ugly, gritty, physical part of it, that’s the bit your brainiac little baby brain was processing. But, like… the gone part? The grief part? No way were you equipped to handle it, to even know what it was. And that makes sense! It makes sense you didn’t know how to feel… like I said. Me, right now? I wouldn’t know. It just sucks. It was fucked up, but you? You’re fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I was 6,” Ienzo cried into Demyx’s shoulder, “I turned 7 at Sunny Side.” Ienzo couldn’t ever remember making much of a big deal about his birthdays, but he had learned enough at the orphanage that by the time his birthday rolled around, he had kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t that the kids were cruel about it, that there was never any reason for celebration at the orphanage. But even if he didn’t talk to anyone before making friends with Maki, he had still been aware. He was the ‘crybaby lordling’. And Ienzo just…hadn’t wanted to deal with any harassment over someone saying that birthdays didn’t make him special, that this wasn’t like a manor, you won’t be getting presents and a feast, sire… It was just more ridicule he hadn’t wanted to provoke. 

Demyx had a good point. And…it was kinder to his child self, the impulses he’d had to investigate his parents’ deaths even if he couldn’t stop staring at them and hadn’t left the room. He had seen the physical state of ‘dying’, as Demyx described, and had focused on that. The thing he knew. 

…because processing that someone was gone?

Ienzo made a small sound against Demyx’s chest. “I didn’t know them because they were never home, Demyx.”

“Oh,” Demyx frowned, not ready for this particular bit of information… before his eyes reddened, his face reddening in outrage, “Oh, well… screw them then. Respectfully! Most respectful screw off to the dead. I don’t know. Where were they?”

“Traveling,” Ienzo said softly. An untrained ear might think his voice had deadened again, but really, Ienzo just sounded tired. “Maya mentioned it when we were at her party…international tourists.”

There was a small sniffle. “My dad had a textile business, we were nobility through my mom. As an excuse, technically they were making contracts all over the world…but they just liked traveling. Seeing what different countries were like, learning customs and tech and just…all sorts of information different places discovered. ‘N they’d always bring back trunkloads of things they’d buy internationally, liked trying to use them themselves, invite other people to check them out…”

A quake went through Ienzo’s shoulders as he leaned more of his weight against Demyx. “...as long as I did something impressive, they’d pay attention to me. For the…maybe few weeks between trips they were home. If I had something interesting I’d learned, or could show off a new skill or insight, then…” Ienzo swallowed thickly, before a more audible sob went through him. 

“...I remember wishing that they’d stay home longer this time. That the ships would get delayed or something…”

And Lehua and Siofra never left, not of their own volition. And seeing their corpses, Ienzo had leaned into what he knew about body inspections, about forensic work…trying to impress his parents once again. Hoping that maybe if he did really well, if he was the genius they always showed off to guests then…maybe he’d get attention again. Maybe they’d wake up. 

“Oh no,” Demyx whimpered, eyes reddening again, “That’s worse. You know that’s worse, right? That’s so fucking sad.”

Demyx gave a shuddering little breath, wiping his face on the top of Ienzo’s hair–you wanted to make him cry in the middle of hugs? That’s the price–before sighing as he held Ienzo close. “...I’m glad I met you.”

Ienzo hadn’t really known what to do when he got to the factory. But when Even had taken notice of his intellect, it was like a switch. Not outwardly, for the most part, but among everything that was terrifying and new, Ienzo had recognized that one familiar thing. Ah. If he was clever, if he was insightful, if he could do the things that got Even’s attention, then Ienzo would be safe, as much as he could be in a place like the factory. He’d have an ally. 

…but the other adults hadn’t dismissed him. And when Aeleus started asking things of him, things Ienzo wasn’t good at and couldn’t brute force through deep analysis and contemplation (basically any physical feat) he hadn’t just…left. 

And then Ienzo had gotten put in the quiet room for the first time, and when he got out, he couldn’t think. He couldn’t be impressive or useful or anything, and Even and Aeleus had been so worried about him. If they had a choice, they never left his side, and even when they couldn’t be, one of the older Empaths had always strengthened their tether to him and had refused to let Ienzo believe he was ever alone. 

Regardless of anything Ienzo did, his dads loved him. His family loved him. It was unconditional. 

Ienzo cried into Demyx’s chest, knowing that it hadn’t been his attempt to find his parents that allowed Demyx to hug him close like this. “I’m glad I met you too.”

“Theeeeeere, there there there,” Demyx said, like he wasn’t also a sniffling river of snot, trying to square his chin a little–though he quickly had to stop because he couldn’t breathe with his lips pursed up towards his snotty nose like that–as he patted Ienzo on the back. Pat, pat, pat. “Theeeeere, there there there…you know, your parents sucked in a lot of ways. But it still makes sense that you’re sad they’re dead and you want them back. It makes sense to miss them! I still don’t think there’s anything weird about your reaction.”

“You have looooooots of weird things about you,” Demyx half-sang out, “Lots. So much. You are our brainiac little freak who I had to fight 100+ versions of the other week! That was recent. While you hung out in a screaming organ room. That’s weird, Ienzo, you still have plenty of freak street cred! But how you reacted to your folks when you were a kid… still not the weird part. Still seems reasonable to me.”

Ienzo still felt like it was a little weird. But, well, when was anything about him not? And while at times he felt it made him struggle with things he sought to understand and connect with, it hadn’t ostracized him from the whole world. He’d just…found people as weird as him, and he fit right in. 

…and honestly Ienzo was happier to fit with them than anyone else. 

“It was only around 60…and not even all of them were there,” Ienzo sniffled, before huffing a few notes of an attempted laugh. Not because he was forcing it, but just because it wasn’t quite there yet. “...thanks, Demyx. I know it’s because I never brought it up, but…I’ve never talked with anyone about this before. Guess I did have stuff to say.”

“I know, I’m the best,” Demyx agreed, giving Ienzo a tiiiiiight hug, before leaning back a little, laying on his palms as he rested his weight on his arms, looking at Ienzo, “And honestly? It was kind of nice to cry with you! I don’t cry very often, sometimes you have to just clear the pipes!”

Ienzo closed his eyes tight, just enjoying the squeezed hug, before reluctantly leaning back as well. The time for that was over, he supposed. It took another moment for him to convince his hands to let go of Demyx’s jacket, though, taking a breath and wiping his eyes a bit. 

Smiling hesitantly, Ienzo huffed. “...I used to cry a lot. Before my constructs were in charge so much. Not even because I was that upset, I think, it just happened. I didn’t really know what to do with anything I was feeling, so I just cried. It’s…kind of nice, and kind of aggravating to do it again.”

“Heh. Your face is all puffy,” Demyx teased–again, entirely ignoring his own red, splotchy face–as he laughed, poking the space between Ienzo’s eyebrows, “You’re going to look like someone socked you in the face tomorrow. Don’t get all in your head about it though, the others get it. They're assholes, not stupid.” 

“And yeah, sometimes you just need to cry. There’s a few memories that I keep up in the ol’ noggin specifically for that,” Demyx said, tapping his temple, “When I know I just need to sob a bit? I go rewatch them in person. Some of them are sad, but most of them are happy. That memory I showed you of my dad is one of them. It’s good to reflect on nice things we had, and I think, good to cry about it too.”

Ienzo sighed a bit, shaking his head as he finished wiping his face. Well, not that he really ever thought he looked like a model. “I’m not all that worried about the others potentially making an ado about me, or you for that matter, crying. No one escapes teasing, but we all know about just needing time to freak out a little.”

Smiling softly, Ienzo tucked his hands in his hoodie pocket. “It was a nice memory. I’m glad that you have memories of your parents like that.” He glanced down for a moment, clearly debating something before he sighed. “...I do have some nice memories of my parents too, it wasn’t all awful. They…um.”

Ienzo took a little breath. “They liked music a lot. Liked collecting recordings from other countries and…instruments too, though at home they liked trying to learn new ones and play Luminary songs. My, um…my mom had a Dicean accordion, which is why I knew about that when Prince Kokichi brought it up, and when we heard it from your new bandmate.”

“Oh, yeah?” Demyx grinned, eyes widening in excitement as he asked, “Anything I could watch them play? I’d love to see one of those things for myself, they look so trippy!” 

Ienzo nodded shyly, giving Demyx a hesitant smile before he closed his eyes, strengthening their connection again.

-

The first thing noticeable was the sound. A bright, breezy sound, unlike anything he’d ever heard before (sort of, Ienzo had watched his parents messing around with the new instrument before, but this was the first proper piece he was listening to). However, that wasn’t properly setting the scene. 

Seisear Manor was grand. Not as expansive as Maya’s manor, but the closer space seemed to be a desired choice, rather than something just dealt with. It was bright, sunlight streaming in from long, nearly floor to ceiling windows illuminating a room full of…well. Full. An eclectic assortment of everything, different furniture items, a Luminary tapestry right next to finely beaded gauzy strips of fabric, lamps of every size and shape imaginable, the shelfs filled to bursting with little doodads and trinkets that looked like they were whimsically arranged to be an ultimate I Spy puzzle, and, in this room in particular, instruments. Stringed instruments, metal horns, all sorts of blocks and sticks and more identifiable drums, it seemed like every sound you could conceive of was capable by something in the room. 

But those weren’t the focus. 

Instead, sitting on the stairs--interwoven with cabled, twinkling lights--to the lofted part of the room, was a small, 5-year-old boy with slate blue hair just slightly covering one eye. A closed book in his lap as he leaned against the railing, eyes wide and amazed as he watched the two figures on the main floor. 

There was a young woman with a coy, intelligent smile, the silhouette of her off-shoulder dress bunched and scrunched unflatteringly under the straps of a box-like contraption, the center growing and collapsing like bellows as she adeptly manipulated it. The song she played was almost bittersweet, a little darker than the more upbeat polkas and jaunty jingles they had heard from Sam. But the woman looked enamored as she played, gracefully spinning and stepping with the man across from her that was never out of her loving view. 

Said man had Ienzo’s hair color, parted more neatly, but strands still stubbornly falling in his face, falling on his thick framed glasses. He was wearing a loose shirt that was laced at the neck and wrists and tucked into a sort of elegantly sculpted metal chest piece. Though, that didn’t seem to encumber him at all, as, not weighed by an instrument either, he put far more flourishes into his dance. Every spin or dip back expertly timed to make it look like it had been prompted by the woman. 

Demyx’s eyes widened, looking around the space. This place was… beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful building he had ever seen the inside of. 

He felt a touch of grief, on Ienzo’s behalf. This would have been a nice place to grow up. Sure, alone, parents gallivanting all the time, but… Ienzo had been so close, to growing up somewhere beautiful. Demyx wished he had gotten to see it through. 

But he smiled when he heard the music, shuffling over to young Ienzo’s viewpoint–heh, what a little cutie. Goober–as he looked down over the balcony, taken in by the dance. By the easy, playful joy of it. 

Seeing the happy couple filled Demyx with a touch of grief for himself. In another life, maybe he’d have been a happy couple with someone. He had a hard time imagining that now. As much as he was happy to finally have relationships outside of the group, to go meet people, learn about them, introduce himself, tell stories that his family hadn’t heard a thousand times now, as easy as it felt to go to brothels and to flirt and to enjoy physical company… he had meant it, when he said he couldn’t imagine dating on top of all of this. 

He didn’t feel like someone worth anyone's time, not with everything going on…he’d love for anyone to look at him, the way these two looked at each other.

But as quickly as that grief came to him, he let it go. He wasn’t the type to dwell on sad things, and pretty soon, he just found himself captivated by the dance itself, as in the real world, he hopped off the desk and grabbed Ienzo’s hand. “Alright, do you know how to do that? I don’t! Let’s try it anyway!”

Ienzo watched the memory with a small sigh. The pang of grief and fondness a little dulled, having just cried about it. He had loved nights like this. No small parties or groups of guests coming over, just…him and his parents at home. Enjoying something new together. 

His parents had loved dancing together. So many days he’d woken up and gone to the breakfast parlor, able to hear his dad bellowing from down the hall, greeting the morning with song, no matter if he got the words wrong or missed a note by a few steps. And while his mom hadn’t been much of a morning person, sometimes instead of half-splayed on a chaise, sipping coffee while looking dreamily at Lehua, her head was on his shoulder, letting him spin them around the room with small giggles. 

He knew in this particular memory, after the waltz ended, his parents had looked up at the stairs. Siofra calling up to him to come join. The next song she wanted to try was more technical, and, well, Lehua needed a proper dance partner, obviously--

“Wh-wha?!” Ienzo stuttered, looking a little alarmed as Demyx took his hand, pulling him in to dance. “I don’t…I-I mean, I think it was a combination of some dances, I…”

Unable to say no, Ienzo turned pink as he awkwardly spun with Demyx.

Demyx was a decent dancer, in the way someone who loved to dance would inevitably become after enough time. He didn’t do a lot of stylized, formal dancing–and by ‘a lot’ really that meant ‘basically none at all’–but!! He could decently enough mimic what he had seen the lovers do, though he had the benefit of not having an instrument to distance them, placing a hand on Ienzo’s waist to help guide the flowing spins.

In truth, they didn’t have the room in the lab or the practice to look the way Ienzo’s parents did. But it felt good. It felt smooth and flowing and fun and bouncing. It felt the way stage performances looked. It didn’t matter the reality was a little awkward and a little janky, Demyx felt in step with Ienzo, felt close and light as air, and was enjoying dancing to the jaunty music still playing in their minds. 

Ienzo had been a noble, for a small portion of his life. And despite his parents’ eccentricities, despite the way they liked to challenge assumptions and traditions, there were still some expectations Ienzo had been made to follow--one of those things being learning how to dance. 

But there was a big difference between learning a few simple waltzes when you were 6, and the rest of your life spent in small quarters and the majority of any movement being at the behest of someone that was focused on getting the most out of simple exercises. 

Ienzo was Not A Good Dancer. 

But he’d throttle himself before ruining Demyx’s obvious enjoyment, so Ienzo did his best to follow his friend’s lead. Even as his blush deepened, his heart starting to pick up again, though for a very different reason. Trying, and failing, to just focus on the loop of his mother’s song and not stepping on Demyx’s feet. 

It was probably Demyx’s laughter that drew the others’ attention, Dilan knocking on the door. “Demyx, you better not be fucking up Ienzo’s lab in there! And if Ienzo’s in there, knock it off, you know there’s no fun allowed here!” he called, his tone amused and teasing. 

“Ienzo’s showing me accordion music!” Demyx called back cheerfully, laughing as he pulled Ienzo into his chest and swayed back and forth with him. 

“Ugh, course it's music stuff,” Dilan huffed, the sound of his footsteps wandering off. 

@//////@ 

Were his feet even touching the floor anymore? Everything felt cloudlike. Except Demyx’s chest, which was very solid and very noticeable and oh god Ienzo felt like he was going to combust--

In his head, Zexion just rolled his eyes. What was Ienzo even expecting?

Demyx chuckled as Dilan walked off, before looking down at Ienzo. “Oh, you look dizzy. Sorry!” Demyx laughed, not sounding sorry at all as he slowed them to a stop, steadying Ienzo, “You gonna throw up on me, bud? Need some water?”

“I’m fine!” Ienzo squeaked, finding himself in the worst dilemma of his life. Torture a child into complacency? Pff, nothing on Ienzo’s overwhelming impulse to hide, to tell Demyx, oh, he had something in the oven downstairs, whoops, gotta go, and the utter despair that filled him at the thought of not being around Demyx right now. 

So that just led to a solution of--

“I-should-get-back-to-work,” Ienzo said way too quickly, “But we can still hang out if you want?”

“Oh yeah?” Demyx asked, entirely oblivious to Ienzo’s dilemma as he peered over the work Ienzo had put on pause, “You sure? You don’t usually like the distraction when you’re in the middle of stuff.”

“Yeah, but…I-I’m just configuring, it, um…” Ienzo knew his face was still blazing, and knowing that didn’t make it any better, “I’m not as good as multitasking anymore, but I can still do it with you around.”

“Alright, sure~” Demyx agreed, though he lit up as he asked, “Would music distract you? I could go grab my sitar, strum a bit as you work?”

“No, I don’t mind,” Ienzo shook his head. Though, as Demyx left to get his sitar, Ienzo could only cover his face with a muffled groan as he sank to the floor, actually fairly close to where he’d been sitting when Demyx had initially knocked on his door. 

ㅍںㅍ Having fun?

“Shut up.”

-

“You’ve got that constipated look, dearie~” Miss Crystal said, she and Kaito having been putting together beaded bracelets again, tucked away in the corner of a busy tea house this time. “Putting a lot of time into your next thought?”

The tea house was at Miss Crystal’s insistence for that session, as she confessed that if she had one more greasy meal that week she was going to have to start doing something she very much didn’t want to: start exercising. To keep the pounds off. 

Kaito had then spent some time lecturing her that she should still be exercising even if she was thin, that being just skin and bones wasn’t healthy and that she probably should try to put on some weight to turn into actual muscle. Just as he was about to start discussing exercise routines she could start with, Miss Crystal had declared that as a good therapist she couldn’t waste time on personal matters and then the two had proceeded to spend the first fifteen minutes of their session looking over the interesting teas and pastries on the menu. 

Miss Crystal always knew that if the conversation was taking a while to start? It meant Kaito had something he was nervous to bring up. The answer to that was usually to kill time and keep busy until he could bring himself to start. Trying to start the conversation and then divert into what he wanted usually just got them caught up talking about something else entirely, and then she never found out what it was that had been on his mind. 

When she had told this to Dr. Mariah, the other therapist’s brow had furrowed, as she said, “I feel like I get him to talk quite often using that method.”

“I don’t have the benefit of three other patients also badgering him to just say whatever's on his mind, love,” Miss Crystal had tittered a bit, giving Dr. Mariah an amused side-eye as she explained, “And that’s why you’re always complaining that everything he says is filtered under four different layers of ‘talking around husbands’. It might take longer for me to get him to speak up, but what he says to me? Is just what he means.”

“I wish the same could be said about Maki,” Dr. Mariah sighed, “Without getting into specifics–”

“Of course.” Miss Crystal shrugged.

“--I thought she was reserved in group discussion? Ten times worse in one on ones. I have never had a patient so entirely willing to just stare at me in silence. I don’t even think it’s being willfully obtuse; she just doesn’t seem to realize she has anything to say until I’ve basically spoken for her and then she needs to ‘correct’ me. How two people so absolutely determined to not open up became close is beyond me.”

“Just depends on the subject,” Miss Crystal reminded her, “You got fooled by that yourself, remember? Kaito talked for hours about his sex life, to the point you forgot you had learned literally nothing about his childhood or family for, what was it… months?”

“He didn’t tell you either,” Dr. Mariah said, a tad defensively. 

“Oh, he did. He just liked to talk around it. Everything was always happening to a ‘friend’ of his. And in truth, I think they were real stories he was recounting,” Miss Crystal said, “But it was just how he found ways to talk about things he was uncomfortable with. Mentioning how so and so he was dating was struggling with this problem, or how ‘their’ insecurity affected their sex life in some way. Admittedly an interesting way to talk about things that bother him, filtering it through ‘failed kink attempts’.”

This conversation came to mind for Miss Crystal, as Kaito gave a little, frustrated breath, before saying, “It’s nothing serious. Hey, how traumatic do you think it’d be if I asked my husband to, like, brain-nap me for sex? Just a little traumatic, or, like, crying and feeling like a monster traumatic?”

Miss Crystal tittered a bit. “Crying and monster.”

“Ugh, I knoooow,” Kaito grumbled, pouting as he carefully rung some more little stones and crystals around the beads, “I’ve gone and got myself one of the most powerful people around, just, like, period. And he doesn’t. Enjoy dominance. Like, what the hell! I thought everyone liked dominance, deep, deep down. But every time I hint that he should do something wild with his abilities to me, he either totally fails to pick up what I’m saying or looks a little grossed out.”

“Mmhm, mhhm,” Miss Crystal hummed, “You’ve mentioned that before.”

“The ‘everyone likes to dominate’ thing,” Kaito scoffed, “Yeah, I knew the second it was out of my mouth you’d pick at that. I know, I know, not everyone is obsessed with power and gets off on power fantasies, not everyone is trying to overpower you, you don’t have to be so scared of people, yeah yeah.”

“And yet, you keep complaining about it when it comes to your husband.” 

“It just baffles me that he has access to allll of that power, and doesn’t get off on it a little bit!” Kaito ‘shouted’, not actually shouting, just that tone that suggested baffled urgency as he said, “I could think of a thousand ways to use that on a partner. And if they were into it? Why not?”

“Because, if you’ll recall,” Miss Crystal said, “Blah, blah, blah?”

“......he’s not ‘holding back’, he ‘genuinely doesn’t like it’,” Kaito sighed, nodding, “Because ‘not everyone wants power over you’.”

“It’s hard to internalize something that, logically, you know is true,” Miss Crystal said, “Besides, you have Shuichi for that sort of thing. Why does it specifically have to be Kokichi?”

“Because… the power,” Kaito whispered, giving Miss Crystal a baffled look. “I just said.”

“You could recreate that feeling in a thousand ways with the partner who would actually enjoy doing that to you,” Miss Crystal said, “But you specifically want an Empath to do that to you. Which… you do understand why that makes me raise an eyebrow, yes?”

“...” Kaito glared at the beads. Silent.

They let that silence hang for five minutes. Miss Crystal waiting patiently, sipping at her tea, while Kaito’s speed with the bracelets increased, his hands moving faster as his brain raced. Irritation bleeding into the movement, but that was good: that was the point.

“......I keep…” Kaito frowned, looking away, frustrated, “...thinking maybe if I can recreate what happened? And look at it? Maybe it won’t freak me out so much.”

“You understand why you shouldn’t ask Kokichi to do that,” Miss Crystal said, “You’re not frustrated because if you asked him to do that, he’d feel monstrous for exploiting his powers in a way that hurts his morals. You’re frustrated because you know you’d be asking him to play out a scenario that would cause you open, actual distress. And that would make him feel monstrous. Because he’s not Korekiyo. He’s not Chad. He will get literally nothing out of upsetting you on purpose, it will just make him feel terrible.”

“I… yeah,” Kaito sighed, “yeah.”

“So, no, I can’t as your therapist encourage you to take that route for dealing with the fear, though I know it’s one that’s worked for you before,” Miss Crystal said, real sympathy in her tone. Kaito had first gotten to grips with the trauma of what happened with his brother with Togami being willing to play it out with him, making it smaller, more manageable the more Kaito analyzed it. Korekiyo had done the same thing with him about what had happened with Chad, with the night he had been left at the whim of a gangbang that had exploited him. 

It was just one of the ways Kaito dealt with sexual trauma, exploring it in a safer space. But you had to be a certain kind of person to be the other end of that exploration, to be willing to push through a panic attack or increasing disgust and fear and insecurity in their partner. Togami and Korekiyo could. Kokichi could never. Kaito could not ask his Empath husband to play out what his Empath tormentor had done. 

“We need to find another route for you,” Miss Crystal said, “There are plenty of other ways. We just have to explore them.”

“Right,” Kaito sighed, closing his eyes, a tension in him just talking about the subject, “...but how? I’m not trying to be difficult, I just… I have no idea what else to do. Every time I think about it? It’s so fucking scary. I have such a hard time even thinking about it, let alone working through it. Everything he did… how do you start?”

“Well, talking about it to your therapist is one,” Miss Crystal smiled, “And, we have discussed the possibility of speaking to…”

“I’ve brought it up once or twice,” Kaito admitted, wilting a bit, “I don’t think Kokichi approves.”

“It’s not up to him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kaito huffed, “But my ‘Kichi’s smart. If he doesn’t approve, it might be because it’s going to go badly for me.”

“He’s a husband who loves you,” Miss Crystal said, “He’s biased. He doesn’t want to see you distressed. But we’ve talked about the effect of humanizing your nightmares. This is one of the ideal ways to do it. Your tormentor literally isn’t the same person anymore. Going and seeing that for yourself? Might have the same ‘diminishing’ effect on your fears that your self-imposed sex therapy used to.”

Kaito snorted at that, giving Miss Crystal a warm look. “I still can’t believe you call it that.”

“It’s literally what you were doing, Kaito.” She laughed lightly, before shrugging. “And it did help you, enough to get you by until you got real help. It was a sexual situation you had control of that let you demystify terrible things that had happened to you. There’s literal therapists who use that method, if you seek out that sort of help. Their success rates aren’t an anomaly, it’s just something that works for some people.”

“I don’t want that,” Kaito whispered, “It’d still feel like cheating to me.”

“I know. That’s why I haven’t encouraged you to explore it. But confronting the physical body of who you fear?” Miss Crystal said, “I think there’s something there, for you. I wouldn’t recommend that to everyone, not even most people. But you? You might actually get some real progress from it. Especially, again–”

“Because he’s not really Tengan,” Kaito filled in.

“Exactly.”

Kaito sighed, playing with the beads lightly, spinning them in his fingers. “...I’ll talk to Kokichi about it.”

“Good… also, you’ve put too many beads on that one. You’re never going to be able to tie it.” 

“Hah! Watch me. I’m an expert by this point.”

“...okay, color me impressed.”

-

Sam really loved his mom. She was kind and a bomb-ass cook and she cared a lot about making sure he and his brother were taken care of and happy. But, uh…Sam would call Jodi a little…high strung. Sometimes. Particular. He could trust her! But…sometimes things ended up being Total Catastrophes that he thought weren’t that bad, so, over the years, and especially after Sam had started working for the Escoffiers, he’d learned that if he had a problem that needed a Real Adult and Sam couldn’t go to his mom, then that meant…

“SHAAAANE!” Sam called out as he rode down the path towards the small farm, bending his knees more as his skateboard jittered over the more-dirt-than-stone path. “SHAAAAAAAAAAANE!!”

Aw, dammit. And the throbbing in his arm had just settled down. 

Shane sighed, sitting out on his porch, drinking the dirty sock water damn Harvey had insisted he start drinking in the mornings, instead of the Dirty Coffies he had been getting by on for too long now. A ‘dirty’ coffee being, of course, a coffee laced with whatever he had been drinking the night before, to ease out the headache he had the next day. 

There was worship, of course, but damn Harvey said that Shane had officially stepped over the line of where ‘prayer’ ended and ‘heart attack waiting to happen’ began. And damn Harvey had insisted that if Shane wanted to be around to see if Jas would have kids of her own someday? He better drink this damn tea instead. 

Dammit.

“Stop shouting, Sam, you’re gonna bother the hens.” Shane grumbled, glancing over at the hen house. He had inherited the farm from his own folks, but a series of hard times during his father’s day had meant he had inherited mostly a husk of wood and farmland that was never going to produce more while Shane was still young enough to till it. He mostly kept hens now because eggs were always useful and Jas liked to attend to them. That was why he had that damn mean goat too. Damn goat.

“Watch the goat,” he warned as Sam approached. Rammer already running up to Sam’s backside. “Goat got out again last night. Haven't wrangled him up.”

“Ga-a-ah!” Sam warbled, holding the towel bundle in his hands up higher as he pushed off with more urgency, running away from Rammer until he could hop up onto Shane’s porch, quickly hiding behind him. “Shoo, naughty goat! You’re supposed to be on the same side as other animals, have some sympathy!!”

Maybe some people would find that a bit dramatic, but Sam didn’t feel like anything was different as he gave Shane a worried look. “Look, I know you said to stop just dropping by since you already have to see me way too much at work, and Emily actually has experience with injured birds, but you have so many hens! So you’ve gotta too, right?! A-at least that’s where my head was at, don’t throw me to Rammer--”

Sam barely took a breath as he rambled, landing on an earnest, “Please help?”

Shane gave Sam a long, bewildered look, “...what the hell are you squawking about? Hey, hey! Rammer, get!” 

Shane picked up the broom he kept by him for this exact reason, waving it menacingly at the goat, who was trying to walk onto the porch in order to follow through on his namesake. But Rammer knew he wasn’t really allowed to be on the porch, and the broom tended to just remind him of that, the goat bleating in obvious offense before turning around and trotting off. 

“Damn goat,” Shane muttered, putting the broom down, “It’s not the coffee and whiskey that’s going to give me a heart attack, it’s that damn goat. Anyway, what? What am I helping with?”

With a little worried sound, Sam glanced to the towel with some trepidation before he took a bracing breath, carefully ducking so he could grip some of it in his mouth. Lowering his arms and tilting his head back was enough to pull the towel off, revealing two very dazed and ruffled looking hawks seemingly with one wing each stuck to the other. It also revealed quite a few scratches down Sam’s arms and around his hands and wrists, at this point just a thin coating of blood covering his arms as some of the scratches dribbled. 

“Hmm hk!” Sam pleaded muffled around the towel in his mouth. 

Shane gave Sam an expression that was difficult to convey other than in a literal sense. It was a ‘did you really just put that bloody, bird covered towel in your mouth’ look… before he sighed, getting up from his wooden rocking bench, motioning for Sam to follow as he headed inside. “Put them birds on the table, let’s see what we can do. Also, go to the bathroom and clean off your damn arm with some rubbing alcohol, you want whatever strain of bird rabies those two could potentially have on them?”

Grabbing some gardening gloves from his counter, he put them on and then, for just an extra layer between himself and those talons, he put on his kitchen apron. It was one Jas had gotten for him, covered in smiling, clearly tripped out cats looking at rainbows and comets pass by, as he went to go look at the birds. “Alright, what have you lot gone and done, huh? Hmmm… ah, hells, how’d you managed this, eh?”

Shane frowned, seeing ruffled in some of the birds’ feathers a strange, metal glint. A fishing hook? No, it seemed too big for that, and metal was cut too raged, like it was meant to catch against fabric or skin it brushed against. What the hell was he looking at… “Ah, hell,” Shane realized, “This is that shit fucking Morris put on top of that fountain statue they’d got in front of the manor. The barbed spikes things to deter the birds. I did wonder if the storm we had would chip any of that off…alright, we can fix this. Even if these damn birds are going to try to claw my eyes out the whole damn time.”

“Wha e wa hmmo o oo?!” Sam whined, before following Shane in, gently setting the birds down on his table, only then taking the towel out of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I got it…”

There was a series of hissed and whined, ‘owowowow’s from the bathroom as Sam cleaned his arms up. Was he used to cleaning up small scrapes? Oh, totally, a lot of things worth doing came with a chance of injury. Was the sting of rubbing alcohol or peroxide ever bearable? No! But it was kind of his own fault. Sam hadn’t thought about using a towel until he’d already tried to approach the birds twice, and he thought it was just lucky they hadn’t gone for his face. 

Taking some medical tape from his pocket, Sam returned as he taped up one of the bigger, still bleeding scratches, giving the birds a worried look. Though as Shane identified what happened, a grim, edging into pissed look washed over Sam’s face, before calming into more worry. “It…wasn’t just these two. There were a ton of grounded birds, but…” Sam glanced over at Shane, looking genuinely disturbed, “I think they were already dead. These two were still moving around, so I thought…”

Sam trailed off for a moment before attempting a weak laugh. “Might’ve tired them out a bit. They did calm down after I got the towel. Dunno how well I could’ve ridden over with two hawks trying to kill me.”

“There were?” Shane asked, giving Sam a bewildered look, before shaking his head as he turned back to the birds, “The hell is up with that? Damn unlucky birds… Here, I’m gonna give you my gloves. I need you to pin down their heads and feet while I get this thing out of their wings. They’re gonna thrash, I need you to be firm, got it. The gloves will protect you.”

There was no good way for him to take the shrapnel metal out. The best Shane could do was try not to drag it out in a way that shredded the birds’ wings open. As he firmly held their wings, not letting them move it even when occasionally one of them tried to flap hard, trying to dislodge their grips, he grabbed the metal and, trying to see how it had twisted into their skin, tried to counter-twist it. It likely hurt like hell and Shane didn’t feel great about that, but it wasn’t like he had a needle of tranquilizer on hand. The pain would ease when the wings were free and their wounds were wrapped.

After a moment, he sighed in relief, the metal coming free. The birds would hate him for it, but he disinfected the wounds the same way he would any other wound, before grabbing some numbing gel that he wouldn’t have been able to push around the wounds when digging out the metal.

Lathering the newly cleaned wounds with numbing gel, he tightly wrapped the wings, before saying, “Keep hold of them, these guys aren’t going anywhere for a while, unless you’re just trying to send some coyote out there a free meal. Let me go dig up one of the cages from the basement, I don’t have an enclosure ready to throw them into. Guess there goes my damn Sunday.”

Sam nodded in worry. It had looked like a horror scene straight out of the horrible thrillers Abigail liked to recount during their sleepovers. If it had really been caused by the storm throwing around shrapnel from Morris’ weird anti-bird bullshit? Heh, it’d been a little while since Lewis had given him some community hours. 

“Alright, I got ‘em…c’mere, little dudes,” Sam said with a deep breath, taking Shane’s gloves as he handed them over and holding the hawks still. He didn’t want to hurt them more, but, well…there was no getting the barb out otherwise. Even so…

{I’m sorry, I know it hurts, this isn’t fair. We’re trying to help so it won’t hurt anymore, then you’ll be able to fly again! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, shhh, it’ll be okay…}

Sam had to bite onto his lip, the hawks’ screeches paired with the pain ringing through his head stinging his eyes. It was a relief to finally be able to let them g--oh. He gave Shane a guilty smile. “Sorry, man. Anything I can do to help?”

“Damn right you’re going to help, you have any idea how much space birds of prey need when they’re enclosed? I’m going to have to put mesh up around the walls of the whole damn horse stable or their stupid little hearts will die of depression,” Shane scoffed, heading down the hallway, a door opening as he headed downstairs. 

After a moment, he came back up with a cage, the size that could fit a good sized dog, and together the two put the birds in the cage. Only then did Shane go wash and tend to his own hands, the metal having bitten into his own fingers as he had pulled it out. “The hell is the point of metal that shreds you apart just touching it?” Shane grumbled, grabbing and wrapping a towel around his fingers haphazardly as he said, “Come on, let’s put a blanket over this, send these little assholes to sleep and then go get to work.”

“Aw… Well, can’t have that,” Sam said cheerfully, looking down at the hawks before whispering to them as Shane dipped into the basement. “Don’t be fooled, Vince said that Jas told him that Shane sometimes just hangs out in the coop and lets the chickens cuddle with him. He loves you guys, it’ll all be okay.”

Giving a little sigh of relief as he could finally let the hawks go, taking Shane’s gloves off to return to him, Sam frowned. An irritated, bitter haze going over him as he scoffed, “It’s ridiculous. What’s the point of half of what Morris does, having shit that you’re not supposed to look at or touch or use…” Sam glowered more. “Should see how he likes it, the feeling of getting bullshit metal stuck in your body…”

Though, after just a moment Sam’s anger turned into a pout as he gave the birds a little wave and took Shane’s direction. “Nighty-night, bird dudes. Don’t let the bedbugs bite, though I guess they might be a nice snack.”

“Great, gotta catch some mice now too. Well, maybe they got some down at the shop, or Bog’s got some laying around…” Shane grumbled, the two heading out.

Shane just had mesh lining in a tube hanging around. Some old project leftovers from very possibly over a decade ago that he had never seen a good reason to get rid of or even move from its spot where it had been leaning next to the shack. Grabbing it, some hammers and nails, and the ladder, he and Sam started working on clearing out the stable–Shane hadn’t had a horse in there for, again, well over a decade–as he said, “You ought to be careful, spitting out wishes like that. Becomes a bad habit, you’ll find yourself saying it around the wrong person.”

“They did mention they’ve been hearing owls more at night,” Sam hummed consideringly, “I’d think that owls would hang around where there’s food, so there’s probably mice at their farm. Think you’d probably be doing them a favor in that case!”

A little teary to be doing sweeping on a day off, Sam still took to using a pushbroom to clear out the floor of the old stables, putting a little more pep in his step to clear enough space for Shane to figure out the meshing logistics. Though he just sighed as he swept. “It wasn’t a wish, it was a threat,” he grumbled. 

…and immediately pouted again, groaning. “Which I know is still part of your point, man… I hate thinking about sharing negative shit like that with anyone anyway, something just feels wrong about it. I mean, doesn’t Emily talk to you all the time about the importance of putting out positive energy into the world? So then sharing negative stuff is like…against nature or something.”

Sam glanced up. “...and I’d probably get fired.”

“That too,” Shane huffed, nailing in some more mesh, tugging at it to see if the birds could pull it off, “I’m more thinking about the fear you put in others, threatening people around them. You ever want a first hand account of how that nonsense can escalate without a punch ever getting thrown, go talk to Pam. That was a lesson she had to learn hard, that you can’t go around just threatening to knock this asshole out or burn that farm down without scaring someone into eventually doing something about it. She’s a good lady, Pam, but her man was right to leave when he did, I don’t care if she ever followed through on any of it or not. Steady my ladder, I’m going higher.”

Sam sighed a little, his shoulders dropping. “...I dunno. Maybe it was right for him, but he still left Penny too.” It wasn’t something he noticed her dwelling on much, but…she did always get a little more melancholic on blustery fall days, like when her dad left. 

Leaving the broom against a wall, Sam headed over to steady Shane’s ladder. He didn’t think he was much of a violent person, and he didn’t really want to be. He just… “...I just don’t get it,” Sam impressed, frowning at the ladder, “When something you do causes that much pain, I don’t…get how anyone doesn’t care. I’m literally hired over there to clean, I can just clean bird shit off the fountain if he’s that anal about it!”

And that was the whole basis of what empathy was! I feel what you feel, so I better understand you. So…it was tempting to try and facilitate that lesson himself, since he had the ability. 

Shane sighed, but didn’t say anything to that. Again, Pam was a great lady. A great mom… but she had been a terrible wife. It had been one of those small town things, that everyone knew how abusive she could be towards her husband. Oh, no one called it ‘abuse’, that was rude. But that’s what it had been. Shane remembered being a teenager and among all the talks of ‘poor Penny’ and bringing the Sonko family food for the next couple of weeks, being Good Neighbors, there was this obvious, collective sigh of relief. This understanding of, while it was terrible how it had shaken out… that Mr. Sonko couldn’t have stayed there anymore. That a person shouldn’t live like that. 

But, while Pam had never been the type to really take out her anger on her daughter in the first place, something about losing her husband had maybe been the wake-up call she needed. She had mellowed out as she got older, focused on her work and on Penny. 

Shane remembered his father, as the two drank together and talked about that a bit, explaining that sometimes you got too comfortable with a person in the exact wrong kind of way. And that could twist a relationship from love into a ‘safe punching bag’. And sometimes the only thing you could do was take that punching bag away. “Once someone becomes your official stress reliever?” his father had said, a haunted look in his gaze, “It’s pretty rare for that relationship to bounce back to something equal. Someone usually has to leave before anything improves.”

And his father had turned to look at him, brow furrowing, and said, “You strike me as the type to end up finding your own punching bag. You better be real damn careful, that no one ever has to run from you.” 

It had been a punch to the gut to a young, tough Shane, to have his father look him in the eye and peg him as a future abuser waiting to happen. That thought had haunted Shane when he had taken in Jas. What if his old man had been right…

But, so far so good. If anything, he was the damn goat’s punching bag. And he’d rather throw himself into the ocean than have Jas cower from him for a second. Hell, he’d prefer it to just letting that girl down. He’d sure as hell have it coming already…

“I hear what you’re saying. Best I can say is maybe he didn’t realize this could happen?” Shane said, not feeling entirely confident in himself as he said, “We’ll show him the damage, maybe that’ll get some sense into him.”

And if no sense could be made, which Shane thought was more likely, well, he’d see if he could fasten that barb to handle storms better. He wasn’t sure how. Maybe Clint would have a method. Melted metal or some shit. 

“I guess,” Sam sighed. “I mean, I didn’t think it’d happen when I saw that shit. I thought it was some ‘Shinean art I’d never seen before. I’ve never been there! I wouldn’t know if they like sharp metal on the top of fountains!” Morris had been clear it was for making sure birds couldn’t rest there, though. Er, very clear. And condescending, as if Sam was dumb for asking, and doubly so for trying to chat during his shift. 

Frowning a bit as he stood by for Shane to move the ladder to the next spot, Sam glanced over in the general direction where he’d found the birds. “I mean, with the two I brought here, there must’ve been…five or six? That’s…a lot. Morris’d have to put some kind of precaution in place, even if just for, like…legal business reasons? Right? I mean…”

An irritated twitch went through Sam’s eyebrows. “Tourists wouldn’t exactly enjoy a vacation with birds dropping out of the sky.”

“Yeah. We’ll be sure to mention that specifically. That might get through to him,” Shane sighed, shifting the ladder over and heading up again, “Maybe he underestimated the storms we get here. Oh, sure, we look like paradise weather, all sunny days even in the winter, but when the rain’s howling and the wind picks up? Can’t control the weather, not with all the bribes or buy-outs in the world. And thank Iony for that, because I bet if he could, he would make sure we never rained again, and then we’d all be screwed.” Shane chuckled. 

Could always count on margins and…other…business…stuff to get Morris’ attention. Seeing the trash Bog fished up from the river? Nothing. Hearing about the price gouging right when Pierre and Caroline’s was busiest? …well, Sam did understand it, and the money saved when Morris put on sales was significant…but it was still shitty! And something he planned on purpose! But imply that something would lose customers? Escoffier would bend right over backwards. 

Sam snorted. “Aw, c’mon, can’t grow hops or grapes without rain! I think we might lose some of our appeal if the whole town suddenly went sober. And Lewis might actually do something about Joja too, since it’s the town that’s buying Bog’s crops and you only have to run into them while it’s raining to see how important that is.”

It was kind of cute, honestly. When they first moved to town, Bog had fastidiously kept track of all the weather predictions every day, which had made sense to Sam--plants relied a lot on the weather. But as time went on and apparently Bog had settled into farmlife, apparently it wasn’t that important. His mom had said she’d gone over to the farm in the early morning once, to drop off some fertilizer that she’d gotten too much of and, wouldn’t you know it, she knew the perfect neighbor who could definitely find a use for it! But when she got there, apparently Bog was hooting and hollering in joy to not have to water the crops that day. 

“That farmer could make crops grow in a desert, I’m pretty sure,” Shane said, not quite sounding in awe, but not quite jealous either. His tone more curious than anything, like he wasn’t sure if he was joking or not as he said, “The land gives more to them than I’ve ever seen grow here. I know they work hard too, but what they’re producing is more than hard work. They’ve been touched by the spirits around here.”

Shane looked around his old stable barn. Wood rotting, dirt dry as stone. There had been vines growing around the panels, once, but those had died and thinned out into brittle straw. 

Shane knew it was just the nature of soil. That his family just hadn’t turned the crops over the years the way they were supposed to. He knew by the time he had inherited it, it was too late to fix it, that it wasn’t his fault… but he still felt a bit of shame as he looked around. 

Some legacy to leave Jas. Poor girl couldn’t win, when it came to parents. 

“Come on, let’s get this mesh up, I don’t want to do this all day,” Shane huffed, looking back to the walls. 

“It’s crazy, right?!” There was no holding back the awe in Sam’s voice. “I guess the weeds meant something for plantlife, but Abby used to drag ‘Bas and me over to the lot all the time, and it was gnarly. Just debris everywhere. I don’t really remember Bog’s grandpa, but, I mean, it hasn’t really been that long, but it was kinda crazy seeing just how fast wild nature can take over a place.”

“And now? Sure, the part nearer to you and Marnie is a little rough still, but the north is totally pure farm. You remember when Penny got permission for the kids to pick cranberries during the fall? Vince brought enough home that it took Mom over a day to preserve and freeze and, like, figure out other cooking stuff to do with all of them, and he said they were only on one patch!”

Half-jogging to help Shane out with the mesh, Sam hummed, “Maybe that’s why those detectives showed up on Evergreen. Dunno why they’d need plant help specifically, but if they needed some help from the spirits, maybe that was the best place.”

“Those ‘detectives’?” Shane said, giving a small, slightly condescending laugh, shaking his head, “Come on, you don’t believe their story, do you? Those two are on the run from something, no doubt in my mind. My guess? That Harrier guy does have a screw loose upstairs, he came up with a lie without telling the other one about it, and now that Kim fellow has to go ‘oh yeah, we’re from some weird futuristic place no one’s ever heard of till we fell through the void’ with a straight face. Nah, those two are in hiding.”

Sam frowned a little, looking down. Not in shame, but just…confusion. “...if it is a lie, then it’s one they believe. Harrier is…a little hard to be around,” he winced, “but even with that he’s really genuine with everything at least I’ve heard him say. The place they come from sounds…complicated.”

“It probably was complicated! People don’t go on the run from something nice and stable,” Shane said, “Look, I can’t explain why they woke up in Bog’s farm, other than they were just exhausted and thought they wouldn’t get caught taking a nap in the middle of the day. But really think about their story. The things they say. That talk about phones like they’re old news and radios like they’re standard, motorized carriages? It’s all sci-fi nonsense. More than that, they don’t seem to know about magic. A lot of people off the island don’t, visitors think we’re making it up and don’t believe their own eyes when they see things while they’re here. Those two? I’d bet Luminary. Now that’s a place you run from.”

Sam snorted softly. “Look, I know. They do sound crazy. But all I can say is that whatever batshit stuff they’re saying, it’s not meant to be a lie. And…I dunno. It’s probably really scary to suddenly find yourself in a place you don’t know anything about--it’s scary when that happens and you traveled there on purpose! I don’t think it’s fair to assume the worst of them.”

But at Shane’s assumption?

“Huh - ah, oh.” Dropping a nail, Sam quickly squatted to pick it up, before looking at Shane with big teal eyes, shimmering with worry. “What’s so wrong with Luminary?”

“What, you don’t know? Well, I guess I was a little older than you when it was a big thing,” Shane admitted, “You don’t remember what a pissing match it became, when Luminary was first going to war with Dicea? Couldn’t talk about it without knowing how everyone else felt about it because if you did and someone disagreed with you, it was about to become a whole blow-up fight. Novis was buying a lot of steel from them for our ships, and suddenly it became this whole debate on if we should keep doing trades with them while they’re attacking their neighbors. Looooots of big feelings, lots of talk about that Indentured Program of theirs from folks who had been quietly murmuring we shouldn’t have been trading with them already, it got heated. It became a whole thing of whether you wanted more boats or to be on the right side of history, and it became real quick a show of your character which one you picked.”

Shane sniffed, before saying proudly, “I was pro-embargo, and I’m still glad we did it. Those people are monsters. Probably we’ve already started trading with them now that the war’s over and I hear even that slave-program of theirs has ended, but I don’t know. I say let them stay isolated a while longer, really drive it home to them how the world doesn’t tolerate that shit.” 

Sam blinked, before having the decency to look at least a little sheepish. “I mean…I don’t pay a ton of attention to that kinda news outside of, yanno. And uh…” …when? Had Luminary gone to war with Dicea? Uhh….there had to be a memory in there somewhere… Um….okay, Luminary was a metals place, Novis bought metals, people getting heated about that…um… Probably wouldn’t have heard about it from Sebastian, Robin was a big proponent of groove jointing, and they didn’t import a lot of wood from overseas… Er, well, okay, Pam sailed, that was a boat thing, so had Penny mentio--

“...slave-program?” Sam quietly muttered, looking more concerned as Shane made his stance clear. 

…was Demyx okay?

“Oh, god yeah,” Shane scoffed, shaking his head. It had been a long time since he had been a part of those debates, but he still remembered them like they were yesterday. Thankfully there weren’t that many people in town who’d seriously argue it was fiiiine to finance an invading, slave-owning country. But that was usually because they needed to be informed about that second part, since– “Oh, they didn’t call it that, they had a bunch of fancy language and little caveats. I remember one guy arguing that we were blowing out of proportion contract work. Tsk, contract work. Then you find out that contract work was signed by kids who had no choice but to agree. Prisoners with no other options. If everyone in your ‘work program’ is either impoverished, imprisoned, or literal children? Those are slaves. Just with a different word.”

“But, like I said, I’ve heard they’ve done away with it. Something to do with the treaty, I think Dicea insisted,” Shane said, still working mostly with heresy and bar talk, “Damn right too.”

“...what?” 

Sam’s voice was small as he looked over at Shane, looking absolutely heart-broken. 

Sure, he knew other parts of the world were different. Not everywhere was peaceful--that’s what gave his dad a job--not everywhere would even be safe. But…putting children? Into slavery? Shane could be cynical, sure, and Sam sometimes had to take his outlooks with a grain of salt, but…that couldn’t be right, right? Sure, maybe Lewis and the government of Novis as a whole were letting Joja do their Joja things with weird fountain spikes that killed birds, and someone needed to speak up about that, but…surely there weren’t people who looked at child slavery and were like, oh yeah, totally. 

A place like that couldn’t just…exist, right?

Shane guessed that the detectives had run from Luminary, because it was a place to run from. 

Sam zoned out. 

{Hey are you okay?!?! இ﹏இ / [feelings of overwhelming concern and worry and a little horror]}

{My friend [Shane / grumpus / cool guy / trust him / person to go to when you need help] just told me a bunch of stuff about Luminary and I don’t even know if it’s all true but even if some of it is; ARE YOU OKAY?!}

There was a beat before an embarrassedly belated:

{...oh uh, you didn’t even say you were Luminary but my friend [Sebastian! / my buddy! / I love this nerd! / REALLY HOT!] said that sitars were from Luminary but having an instrument from a place doesn’t mean that you’re from there so if you’re not YIKES sorry please disregard so I can go die a little in embarrassment}

{Oh shit am I okay!???/Oh wait yeah I am/Why??}

The next bout of feelings were essentially the Empath equivalent of nodding along and mhm, mhm, mhm… {Yeah I’m Luminous/Uuuuh yeah I’m fine!/Don’t die of embarrassment!/what are you worried about exactly?Wanna chat at the beach today??}

{[feelings of relief just as strong as the worry had been]}

{I guess nothing super exact? Some weird guys showed up in town recently and Shane and I were talking about it, he thinks they’re on the run, and he said that they’re probably from Luminary bc that’s a place to run from}

{he said some super alarming stuff about war and slavery but…also that those things stopped, so I guess you would be fine? ^^;; sorry, I just got kinda worried. I was like :o I know a guy from there! And then like OOO OH FUCK I KNOW A GUY FROM THERE and it kinda went like that.}

{Yeah B) we can chat, but it might take me a little bit / >:( I found some injured birds earlier [anger / frustration / an ache for the callous loss of life / sorrow for the pain caused] and Shane did his cool bird surgeon thing, but we’re setting up a flight pen for them so they can heal safely}

{:’( poor birds}

{Oh no! Poor birdies!!/Yeah I can wait no worries/Do the bird thing!!}

{And yeah haha!/The slave thing sucked I was caught up in all that/not so ancient history but it is history so at least we got that going for us/yeah maybe your weird guys are indentureds looking for a new start?/Maybe??}

“Hey,” Shane frowned, snapping his fingers in front of Sam, “I said are you okay? You with me?”

{ⓄAⓄ wat}

Sam startled, blinking a few times as Shane got his attention. “Ah shit, yeah, I’m good, sorry, man.” He gave a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, right. Finish the pen so you can have at least some of your Sunday.”

Shane frowned, giving Sam a tired look. “That one shook you, huh? Yeah, it’s grim stuff. We don’t have to keep talking about it. Especially if it’s gonna make you phase out on me.”

“I mean it…is pretty intense. You don’t really think that sorta stuff just happens…but I guess it does,” Sam muttered, his voice falling. But in a breath, he brought himself back up, grinning at Shane. “S’alright, though! Hey, even if the detectives are from Luminary, or any other place to run from, then that’s a good thing that they’ve made it here, right? They’re the most exciting thing that’s happened in a while, so that’s a good sign for being low-key.”

“Mhm. I mean, don’t get me wrong, if they’re from Luminary, I’m not holding that against them,” Shane said, turning back to his ladder, going back up, “It’s not the people’s fault all that happened. Just their leadership. I’m just saying we shouldn’t feed back into that leadership, not yet. Wait until that country figures itself out first. But, that’s just my opinion. Count that for what it’s worth.” Shane shrugged. “If they’re really from Luminary. Good, glad they got out.”

“Sure!” Sam chirped easily, holding the ladder, though soon interest lit up his eyes. “That would mean that either it’s a total delusion, or stuff like radios and electric music are a thing there. Which could be a thing! Electric music is on the cusp some places, so it could just be a thing there!”

Oooooooh he had to ask Demyx that later! And uh…maybe actually ask Miku where she was from so he didn’t make the same mistake.

“Uuuuuh,” Shane blinked, realizing, “...oh, uh, maybe? I guess I don’t know enough about where they’re at, tech wise, to say for sure not. They do have all that metal there. I could see them making use of that… Well, that’s an interesting thought, I’ll admit.” 

And for Shane, that seemed to be all he felt like saying about that, as he focused on hammering in the next bit of mesh. Wanting to get this damn enclosure done, dammit. 

-

“Yeah, he was really freaked out,” Demyx explained to Ienzo, sipping on some mead and eating some food with his friend, “So I’m going to pop in after this and chat with him, see what’s up. He sounded really freaked out about the Indentured Program? I guess they don’t have anything like that where he’s from.”

“It’s a Luminary concept,” Even said, listening in on from the other table, sipping on his soup–Sora, Riku, and Kairi had made a massive batch together and invited the others to have some if they were hungry–huffing a bit as he explained, “Well, it’s a Danganronpan concept that Luminary adopted and rebranded, but to the world at large? Luminary is the only country openly doing so. Historically, slavery was only seen in smaller communities exploiting their own people in various countries, and usually against the greater laws of that country. Luminary is the first, historically, to make it a national practice.”

“Right… but people don’t know about Danganronpa, right?” Demyx frowned, “I shouldn’t mention that to him?”

“We shouldn’t even know about Danganronpa,” Even sighed, “I would have never told any of you about it had I really thought we’d escape someday. Seemed harmless in the factory, but that’s dangerous knowledge to have. People who go around talking about our flower overlords tend to mysteriously disappear once the wrong person has overheard.”

“Sooooo dooooon’t tell him,” Demyx said.

“Unless you’re eager to get rid of him, no.”

“Cool, got it.” Demyx shrugged. He had never thought much about the Flora situation, not even when it had been explained to him. Danganronpa felt like a far away place and Flora a strange, alien people that… honestly he struggled to conceptualize as real people. The Flora as much on his mind as, say, the elites in the capital, or the Queen. Even though it did directly affect him, he didn’t feel like he could affect it. It was borderline equivalent to being explained how oxygen works, when Even had explained what he knew about why the program existed at all. Just another rule of reality.

None of them knew about the Danganronpa civil war or the loss of its queen. News was so far leaving Danganronpa only in rumors and silences that spoke volumes. It was a country that had mastered the art of keeping a veil around itself, and now that things were in ruins, no one had a real way to notice. News would likely only truly spread when Flora started fleeing the country as the hivemind shattered into more and more smaller groups of hiveminds. 

No one had announced the loss of their queen to the world. Queen Kaede was still navigating it, trying to make confirmations she could trust, trying to figure out who might have taken the queen’s place and being increasingly baffled when the answer seemed to sincerely be: no one.

Luminary was no longer a colony to Danganronpa because Danganronpa barely existed outside of just literally being an area of geography at the moment… but no one knew that yet.

Though, Axel pointed out, “The Ouma did say Danganronpa was on fire… like, literally.”

“I still wouldn’t test it, if I were you,” Even cautioned. 

“Honestly, based on the way he reacted to just the Indentured Program? I don’t think Sam would want to hear about Danganronpa anyway. We’re bad, but those guys are sick.” Demyx shuddered. “I’d give him nightmares. Dude’s a gentle soul, I can’t do that.”

Wow. So after one meeting, ‘Sam’ was sooooo concerned for Demyx that he had to send a message right away after learning literally any disturbing thing about their country. So kind. Such friendship. What a display of comradely concern…

Ienzo sipped his water, skipping out on mead even with a meal. “We don’t need to be making enemies in our own country or any other. Even if Danganronpa might not have the resources to disappear someone right now, no place is in a state of chaos forever, and the last thing we need is to be on a list of vendettas to settle, long after we’ve forgotten it.”

Frowning at his food, Ienzo paused before trying not to grumble, “You should be careful, Demyx. Even if you two hit it off, it’s like what we talked about when Miss Redgraves was here--other places in the world see us as barbarians. The only reason Sam might have not said anything is because he just didn’t know enough about Luminary period. You don’t have to stick around someone who’ll belittle you.”

“Nah, Sam’s not like that, he’s cool!” Demyx grinned, finishing up his meal and standing up, patting Ienzo on the shoulder and giving him a wink, “You’re gonna love him when you meet him! He’s the best! But thanks for the warning~” 

Going to put his plate in the sink, he whistled cheerfully, heading upstairs.

Vexen glanced at his son… before sipping his drink. “Keep making that face and it will freeze that way.”

…

(...two conversations, one barely that, and Sam was ‘the best’?)

Ienzo quietly watched Demyx go…before glaring over at Even. “Scientifically incorrect folktale. Go fuck yourself.”

“Ugh! The disrespect of the youth today!” Even scoffed, “This is what happens when you let them fall into the wrong crowd.”

“We were literally the only crowd,” Axel pointed out dryly.

“Truly, I was sabotaged as a father,” Even sniffed, before giving Ienzo a dry look, “Be careful, boy. Jealousy is a quick and easy way to lose someone.”

“Ienzo’s not jealous,” Axel scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of what? Some guy in Novis? Come on.”

Ienzo just glared harder at his father before huffing, crossing his arms as he sat back in the booth. “I have better things to do than be that concerned with who Demyx is spending his time with. If he wants to indiscriminately befriend everyone he psychically bumps into, woo, good for him, guess I’ll hear about it later.”

“Oh shit he is jealous.” Axel blinked. “Oh… huh.”

“Tsk, like I don’t know my own boy.” Even scoffed. 

-

Demyx went to go lay down, got comfortable, and he closed his eyes. Mentally reaching for the energy path to Sam…

He opened his eyes at the beach. “Woo! Made it!”

“Wahoo!” Sam cheered, pumping a fist in the air before grinning over at Demyx, getting up from his spot on the sand to greet him. “Nice! It’s crazy that you did it by accident, but getting here on purpose? What a pro~”

Laughing a bit, Sam gave Demyx a friendly look. “Good to see you again, man. Sorry for freaking out on you earlier. Shane can get down on the world sometimes, but I really wasn’t expecting that.” A little softer, he inquired again, “...you good? Like, I’m glad that, uh, it is history to you, but…I dunno. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that’s one and done.”

“I’m good~” Demyx said, laying back in the sand, taking a deep breath of the salty air. “Mmmm… fishy! The air, I mean. It’s weird, but I like it. And, look, I know it was about the Indentured Program, but you sounded really freaked out. What exactly were you worried about? It was just a lot of OH NO! Feelings,” Demyx chuckled.

“That’s probably the fish,” Sam snorted, giving the ocean a fond look. “And probably like, seaweed and stuff, since it’s associated? But there really is no mistaking when you’re by the sea--sound probably gives it away too,” he laughed.

Though, he looked a little sheepish afterward, joining Demyx on the sand. “I dunno, I just… War’s pretty intense, so I was already kinda worried when Shane was talking about that, and then he started explaining about…the program?” He glanced at Demyx, using the terminology his friend had just used. “And I guess… One of the things he started off with saying is that kids were put into slavery through it and…” Sam gave a weaker sheepish laugh, “I guess that can be a bit of a berserk button for me. So it was a lot of OH NO! Feelings for me too.”

“Kinda realize now there’s not really anything I could do if you weren’t okay, but it just felt like I had to check on you?”

“Ah, I appreciate you wanting to check on me, but I’m fine,” Demyx said, cheerfully taking off his boots and playing with the sand between his toes, “I mean, I wasn’t for a while? But not as bad as you’re thinking. I was never a child slave, I ended up in the program at 17. Got out this year! Things are looking up!” 

Sam stared at Demyx for a moment before wilting a bit with a strained grin. “...you do realize that’s still bad, right? 17’s still a kid where I’m from. How…” Sam poked at his lip ring with his tongue before taking a breath. “How old are you now? If you got out this year?”

“Yeah?” Demyx said, rubbing the side of his neck a bit, scratching lightly at his skin, Lauriam’s taunts on his mind as he said, “Uh, you know… twenties…” he coughed, feeling awkward, “Maybe 27?”

He still had no idea how old Sam was but GAH WHAT IF THAT WAS TOO OLD? Demyx shifted uncomfortably, waiting for the verdict. 

Sam stared for another moment before groaning as he flopped back on the sand, some of the lighter bits floomping into the air. “Iony’s tits dude a decade?! Gahhhhh…” Sam huffed as he pouted at the sky. “If you ever come to Novis, I’m treating you to like, all the drinks. God owes you a massive one. Gah!”

Sam flopped his arms over his head, before suddenly peeking through with alarm. “Dude, does that mean you’ve never activated your Divine Core in a decade?!”

Demyx blinked, always down for a drink with a friend, but, “...divine core?” he asked, scratching his chin, “I don’t think I’ve activated a divine core ever. Does not ring a bell.”

He paused… before looking down to his crotch. “Unless… point to where the divine core is, maybe I have.”

A look of horror washed over Sam’s face. “...noooooo.”

Pushing himself back up into sitting, Sam shook his head. “It’s the holy part of yourself that’s embraced when you drink enough alcohol. Your Divine Core is still you, but like…a pure expression without societal inhibitions or expectations. Well, usually, some people get unlucky. It’s generally a good idea to unlock your Core every now and then, but especially if you’re struggling with something or feel stuck, then your Divine Core can have really invaluable wisdom for ya.”

Sam brushed some sand out of his hair. “They can be real dumb assholes too, so it’s a balance.”

“...WHAT!?” Demyx shouted, grinning wide. 

It maybe wasn’t the most… considerate thing to say to someone else's religion. But Demyx wasn’t thinking about that as he shouted in giddy shock, “Hell, you guys worship booze? That’s awesome! Wait, wait, wait, I have to hear all about this, that sounds kickass. What lesser god do you worship??”

Sam stuck his tongue out at Demyx, a full ‘nyuuuu’ sound effect and everything. “Iony isn’t a lesser god. Just ‘cause you didn’t make the whole damn universe doesn’t mean you’re not important!”

Though, he wasn’t all that offended as he laughed. “Yeah, booze is holy, man. Waaaay back in the day Iony lived on Novis and we have this whole thing called the Yorba Accounts that was some bro’s, like, diary basically of some of the time when Iony was around. Iony is the god of, like,” Sam took a deep breath, starting to count off on his fingers, “indulgence and travel and free love and freedom and ecstasy and gender exploration and, like, some plants I think? And a bunch of other stuff, but alcohol’s a big one. The whole concept of Divine Cores is something people learned about from the parties they used to throw with Iony, and one of the best ways to pray to him is by taking a swig of something that burns.”

“Wow,” Demyx said, eyes dazzled as he listened to this. It, admittedly, putting an entirely inaccurate picture of where and how Sam lived in his head as he said, “Maaaaan, and I’m going to Dicea? I don’t know what those guys have there at all, but it doesn’t sound as cool at that! I wanna visit… where are you from again?”

When Sam answered, Demyx sighed, “I wanna visit Novis. Iony sounds kickass! I wish Atua was as cool.”

Not that he really believed either existed. But the concepts! The concept of Iony was coooool. 

“So, have you ever activated your ‘Divine Core’ and something religious happened?” Demyx asked, unable to help the quotations he put around the word, still getting used to the concept. 

“You’re going to Dicea? Man, you really are close by,” Sam chuckled. As exciting as it could be, immediately trying to make plans in earnest to actually visit each other in person was a little…much. But it was still a fun thought. Even if Sam didn’t think he’d be leaving the island anytime soon. “Hey, if you’re by the coast? Just go straight south and you’ll show up on the real beach in like a week.”

Nodding proudly that, yeah, Iony was pretty cool, Sam laughed brightly at Demyx’s quotated question. “All the time, man! So much of life and the world is holy! Though apparently my Core gets real into the ‘free love’ aspect of divinity.” Grinning without shame, Sam shrugged as he said more plainly, “I get super flirty. And hey, sometimes my Core strikes gold.”

“My family would never let me, but man, someday. When everyone chills out and things are settled, probably after the move.” Demyx sighed, looking around the beach. Definitely. He’d definitely see a beach for himself someday. Not that this wasn’t a good way to experience it, but spending a few days like this, rather than just an hour? Getting up to go explore to his heart’s content? Seeing what a coast town was like?

Someday.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Demyx snorted, “Look, I’m a handsome fella. I knoooow I’m a handsome fella! So understand what it means when I say: you’re the handsome version of me.” Demyx snickered, pointing to Sam, then back at himself, then to Sam again, “Seriously, it’s like I could crack walnuts on your jaw, it’s crazy! People are probably tripping all over themselves to get with you… You know, I was going to make a ‘prayer room’ joke, but you guys probably don’t do that. Do you?”

“Ah, protective family?” Sam nodded understandingly, before laughing lightly, “Though, I guess fucking off when you’re moving is kind of a dick move regardless. I was just a tiny tot when my folks moved us to Partinique, but I do remember how hectic it was.” Mostly in how Jodi had just seemed desperate to get away from the city as soon as possible. When he was younger, Sam had sometimes wondered what happened to the things they left behind, but it didn’t really matter. 

Eyebrows lifting in momentary surprise, Sam gave Demyx an appreciative wink. “Aw, hey, don’t sell yourself short! Don’t have to tear one bitch down to elevate another, yanno? Us handsome blonds gotta stick together, it’s written in the stars.”

Laughing a bit, Sam gave Demyx a curious look. “We definitely do have rooms where prayer happens, but that’s not what you’re talking about, huh? C’mon, spill the deets.”

“I’m not tearing myself down! I’m a 10 recognizing an 11~” Demyx snickered, “Plus, we look a lot alike otherwise. Which is cool! You’re just thicker.” 

Demyx didn’t say that maybe, in another life, he’d have developed as much as Sam had, muscle-wise. But he had spent the last decade inside doing pushups reluctantly and never touching the sun. He was… well, he knew he was malnourished and pale in the ‘sick’ kind of way. He knew that because all of his family, when he compared them to other people around, were also kind of malnourished and sickly looking, even if they looked normal to him otherwise. 

It was just a reality right now. His family was recovering, but… their time in the factory had damaged them. They didn’t look great. 

But that would be a bummer to mention, and Demyx barely gave it a passing thought himself as he grinned. “It’s the one fun thing about my religion. Though, I gotta admit, I don’t actually think Atua exists, I’m not a believer like that. But along with the sermons in temple and the passing of the iron and blah blah blah,” Demyx said, rolling his eyes at what he considered the more boring aspects of the religion, “A lot of our forms of worship are shown through sex? We’re offering Atua moments of intimacy and love, as a way to recognize his love for us and reciprocate it. So temples have prayer rooms where basically, you feel like basking in Atua’s love a bit? Grab a partner, or two, or three~” Demyx snickered, “Head to a prayer room and get dirty in his name. That was the only bit of going to worship I actually liked.”

Sam had been snickering along with Demyx…until his shoulders tightened a little. The sunny beach day dimming, the sea darkening with rougher waters farther out, and the pleasant smell starting to sour with the smell of aquatic decay that, for as much as it was a part of the real ocean, Sam tended to omit in his mental version of it. 

But as Sam took a deep, steadying breath, the beach brightened again, the sea calming. As if nothing had ever happened. 

Demyx…didn’t mean it like that. 

Just raising an eyebrow at the parts of his religion that he skipped over, Sam’s eyes went wide as Demyx explained just what ‘prayer rooms’ were. “Dude, no way. Sex is worship??? Pff, I bet a lot of people are happy to send prayers, then; ah, that rips. And also kinda sweet? Love for the love god!” Sam cheered happily. 

Tilting his head curiously, he asked, “Wait, is it just sex, or is all relationship stuff kind of a big deal over there? Like, you guys have any cool customs for dating or marriage?”

“Ummmm, yeah, we have stuff, I think, though sex is the most physical way we show it…” Demyx was sweating slightly, looking around the environment, before giving Sam a baffled look, “I’m not crazy, right? Shit got ominous here for a second there? Did I piss you off? It literally felt like a storm was brewing.”

Sam flushed red, looking away as he smiled uncertainly. “Uh, yeah, sorry. No, you didn’t piss me off or anything, I, uh… It’s kind of embarrassing.” He shrugged a little. “Mental hangup stuff. Know you didn’t mean it that way, it’s all good.”

Demyx, technically, if you asked him, knew he shouldn’t pry. 

But a decade of being a professional pryer made his first impulse go, “Oof, mental hangup huh? What was it?” His words blunt, but his tone concerned… and maybe just a tad too curious, admittedly. Again, his impulse to explore the mental thread. 

“I, uh…”

Unfortunately for most things, you didn’t need to be a professional pryer to get things out of Sam. Someone just had to ask. Even for the things he didn’t want to talk about. 

Crossing his legs, scratching the back of his hand lightly, inadvertently making his body language smaller and more closed off, Sam shrugged a little. Smiling something that didn’t look happy at all. “I had some weight issues a couple years ago? Or…I guess food issues that turned into weight issues. But…”

As he paused, Sam’s brows drew in before he talked firmly. And somehow the way the breeze around them whistled made it seem like doctrine to repeat. “I’m a healthy weight now and there’s nothing wrong with my body. I’m allowed to eat.”

“...?” Demyx tilted his head, trying to figure out how that related to anything–oh! “Oh! Because I called you thicker?” he realized, surprised, “Yeah, damn right there’s nothing wrong with your weight. Though, I guess my bad for making you think about it at all, because you have to know you look good.” Demyx shrugged. “Honestly, you’re way off from being too thin or anything like that. Or… too thick?” He clarified, “Either way, you’re fine. My bad though.”

Sam glanced up with a sheepish smile, laughing softly, “Yeah, I know. And I know you didn’t mean anything by it--like I said, just a hang up. Teens, yanno? It’s a rough time. It already has, so I know it’ll just get better as more time passes. Still just trips me up sometimes.”

“My bad, my bad,” Demyx said again, reaching over to pat Sam on the back, “I’ll keep it in mind, alright? I’m pretty sure I saw a dead fish in the sand over there for a second, I do not want to accidentally trigger death beach again. Best behavior!” 

Tilting his head back, Demyx said, “And we have lots of relationship stuff, but I don’t really know what would be different? From anywhere else? Like, I knew enough to know using sex as worship isn’t an everywhere thing, but beyond that everything else feels pretty self-explanatory. Wedding rituals, quadrants, families… I don’t know, do you guys have any specific Divine Core relationship stuff?”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” Sam gave Demyx a grin at the pats before slowly stretching out again, listening to what the process of relationships was like in Luminary. 

Sam whistled. “Okay, in a sec you’ve gotta explain to me what ‘quadrants’ are? But, yeah, I get that. If I’m gonna be, like, super thorough about it just in case? I have to ask if bouquets are a thing where you live, but I know mermaid pendants aren’t.”

Sticking his tongue out a little, Sam concentrated before a shimmering blue spiral shell with a small hole at the top for a string or chain appeared in his hands and he showed it to Demyx. “This isn’t even really a Novis thing on the whole, though the rest of the island does similar stuff. But on the archipelago where I live? When you’re ready to get married, you wait for a rainy day, take a shot and pray, and then head to the beach. Then there, you’ll find a mermaid pendant, and giving it to your loved one is a proposal.”

Sam chuckled a bit. “Legend has it that the person being proposed to always says yes, because if they’d say no then you’d never find a pendant in the first place. I dunno why any spirits would be so concerned with marriages, but it is what I’ve seen forever.”

Sam blushed a bit, looking dreamy. “It’s so romantic, man, could you imagine? If anyone gave me a mermaid pendant, I think I’d melt.”

“Ooooh, cool!” Demyx complimented, looking curiously at the mermaid pendant. “Those are pretty, I like it~ do you wear it around your neck then? Oh, and we do something different,” Demyx realized, grinning as he got to exchange stories. “So, for us, you have to put a ring in a bag. Like, preferably a little coin purse. It used to be, I think, that the coin purse was literally full of coins and you presented the bag as a trade?” Demyx said, vaguely remembering something Ienzo had actually explained to him once, when he had wondered about it. “But how much was in the bag was meant to represent how valuable you thought the person you were buying into marriage was, so of course offering too little became really insulting, but only so much could fit in a bag. So, to represent the coin another way, they invested it into a ring, and the ring represented how much value you put into the other person.”

“Kind of less romantic than your thing,” Demyx admitted. “But weddings didn’t used to mean a strict love thing, back in the day. I think for elites it still doesn’t, it’s more like a business deal between families. But for us common folk that’s way less of a thing, so you basically just get a ring you can afford that you hope the other person will like, and they take your last name! Or you take their last name, if they proposed to you,” Demyx explained, sighing, “Man…I’d love it if someone proposed to me, but honestly, if I fell in love I’d probably be too impatient to wait, so I’d propose first. I’d just get too excited, you know?”

“...” Demyx peeked an eye open, frowning at Sam, “This is entirely unrelated, just to be clear… did you say you were a teen a few years ago? How old are you?”

“Yupp! It becomes a symbol of your relationship after you actually get married. Some people don’t wear them all the time, especially for working and stuff, but it’s kinda a nice sign, you know? Like you have a constant reminder of your partner around.” Jodi always wore hers (at least these days). Sam had caught her tracing her fingers around the spiral sometimes after they got letters from abroad. 

…Sam had no idea if his dad had even brought his overseas. 

“Ooooooh…oh?” Sam tilted his head as Demyx explained Luminary’s proposal system, a little…confused about ‘buying’ a spouse, but he mostly shrugged it off. “Aw, but I bet the rings can be really nice though. And you could actually personalize it for the person you’re proposing to more? That’s cute! …hey, what’s an ‘elite’?”

Perking, though, Sam let out a startled laugh. “Oh whoops! Shit, sorry, didn’t realize I’d left you hanging like that. I’m 23.” Sam smirked, giving Demyx a teasing look. “Tooooootally legal for any very cool and romantic proposals, though I have enough worth to want a date first.”

“Five years…” Demyx muttered–probably–as he squinted at Sam, “That’s not so bad… though, again, not where my head is at! Sorry, I had a whole argument with my friend Lauriam, he got in my head that I’m getting older… eh,” Demyx sighed, tilting his head sadly, “Look, I don’t even care that much that he has a crush on some 40-year-old dude. I care that the 40-year-old dude feeeeeels ancient. He’s got such… such…” Demyx grimaced, “dad vibes.” 

And that was really where Demyx’s issue was. He and Lauriam were damn near–probably–the same age, Demyx had very specifically felt like Dilan had slotted neatly into an uncle/dad spot in his life in the factory, good for advice, good to whine to, snarky and mean but in a way Demyx liked…

…and then Lauriam looked at allll those same traits! And fucking got thirsty! What the heck!? In what world?!

Demyx, who did not understand the appeal of a dilf–since Luminaries did not have the equivalent of that word–just sighed, shaking his head, “I just don’t get it, it’s so weird to me. And he’s so serious about it too.”

Sam just laughed heartily. “Oh dude, I’ve absolutely had those conversations. My best bud is a year older than me and our other close friend, and like every birthday we make a whole deal about it basically being a funeral, one step closer to the grave, all that.” He shrugged good-naturedly. “Getting old is rad! It’s awesome that you get the chance to, and that you’ve had a life lived longer and longer! But it’s very funny to poke fun with someone that’s basically a baby in the grand scheme.”

Though, it didn’t sound like that was exactly the issue Demyx had with it. Sam raised an eyebrow, considering the friend--probably a similar age--with a crush on a 40-year-old… “Dad vibes or DILF vibes?” he asked sincerely. 

“...what’s a dilf?” Demyx asked. 

“Dad I’d Like to Fuck,” Sam said simply, “Like a MILF, Mom I’d Like to Fuck, GILFs… I’m sure there are more, but those are the ones I hear most.”

“....WHAT?” Demyx shouted, looking wide eyed, before grimacing, “Geeeeez. I mean, okay, now that you’ve said it, that makes sense as a concept, I get it! I’m not a prude, I hear that some people like to call each other daddy and stuff, but, like… it’s weeeeird,” Demyx groaned, flopping backwards into the sand, “Uuuugh, Lauriam… whyyyyyy. He’s hot too. Lauriam, not Dilan. I mean, I guess objectively Dilan is hot… if you’re into older bears,” Demyx grimaced, before tilting his head, “Oh, I guess that is what that is. Well… eh.”

“.....yeah, DILF vibes,” Demyx conceded, before amending, “Or, DLIF. Dad Lauriam wants to fuck.” 

Demyx stuck out his tongue, clearly disapproving, before he stretched under the sun a bit. “I know this isn’t real rays, but you mind if I take my shirt off? It’s nice just to lay out when it’s this cool outside.”

Sam snickered a bit. “Caaaaan get weird, sure, but everyone has their own type, right? If your friend is cougar bait, good luck to ‘im.” Sam sighed wistfully. “The world of dating is a brutal one, gotta take any wins ya get.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead,” Sam nodded to Demyx, before laughing a bit, “This cool? Aw man, like I know this isn’t like the middle of summer, but I thought it’s a pretty nice day in here! Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys that gets hyped when it’s over 38 out, not a cloud in sight. I love the sun but everything starts feeling like death after that.”

“Nah, it’s just hot in Luminary. That and I haven’t been able to sunbathe in a looong time, so now, like, even it just getting to the 80’s is almost suffocating to me,” Demyx said, shirking off his shirt and tossing it aside, laying back out again. It was a little exposing, to be shirtless around basically a stranger still, but, well, he had permission! It was fine. 

“Though, you said 38?” Demyx asked, raising an eyebrow, “I have to assume you’re using some different sort of math, I’d have guessed late 70’s.”

Ooooh, okay, nod, nod--

Sam choked a little. “EIGHTY?”

It absolutely didn’t occur to him that they might be using different math, so it was with a big sigh of relief that he put a hand to his chest and said, “Hoo…okay, yeah, it’s like…I dunno, 25 out here? Warm but not ‘I gotta nap in the middle of the day’ kind of warm. Is that what late 70s is to you?”

“Yeah, basically! I mean, I usually feel the same way about the 80’s, but now? Ooph, I just want to curl inside, lay flat on some stones every time I come in from the heat, y’know?” Demyx laughed, before taking a deep breath in, then out. The sun felt nice.

…”Oh!” Demyx said, opening his eyes, sitting up, “Right, quadrants! Man, you really let me ramble off to a million different topics, I can’t even remember how we got to talking about DILFS and temperature. Okay, okay, so,” Demyx put a finger up, like he was shushing Sam, jutting out his chin as he furrowed his brow, “Hmmmm… I’m betting you just have a different name for them. Quadrants are what we call the different types of relationships you can feel, but are like…” Demyx tsked, tilting his head, “Not familial? And not legal? I dunno, that seems like a really dry way to explain it, but they’re not inherently romantic either… but they aaare… you know what I mean?” Demyx said, looking at Sam expectantly. 

“Definitely,” Sam chuckled, before rolling his eyes, “Though no matter the heat I think my mom’d blow a gasket if I just laid out on the floor. Yanno, I don’t actually believe that you can make sweat stains into wood. Like…right?”

At Demyx’s ‘oh’, Sam perked as well, blinking before lighting up. “Oh dude I totally forgot. Yeah, lay it on me!” Putting his feet together, he leaned forward on his ankles, eagerly listening…before a squinty, thoughtful look came over him. 

“Mmm…I mean, like…yeeeeah?” Sam said with mildly confused hesitance. “Like, I think I do get what you’re talking about, but I don’t think we call them anything. Like, kinda purposefully, maybe? A ‘no labels, only feelings’ sorta thing. Though I’d guess actually having names can make things more clear if people are on different pages.”

“Yeah! So… yeah, I think we’re on the same page,” Demyx said, nodding determinedly, “So! There’s… look, it can be kiiiind of controversial to say this in some parts of Luminary, but, come on,” Demyx said, “The most common one is the normal one. Matesprits. Basically, you get that warm fuzzy feeling, you want to be with them, it’s love, Matesprits is just another word for love. There will be people who will argue that there’s a difference! But I don’t see it. If you’re in a loving, romantic relationship, you have a matesprit, end of story.” 

Then, turning over on his side, he lined out in the sand two criss-crossing lines, creating a little box, one with a heart on it. 

“But no one calls love or being a partner with someone having a matesprit in practice,” Demyx said, smirking up at Sam, “If you ever visit us, don’t think you’ll sound cool and like a local if you introduce your partner as your matesprit, it’s weird. Because, again! It’s implied! We have other words for it! …can you tell this was a whole debate I had when I was a teenager?” Demyx laughed. 

Then, he drew a little spade below and to the right of the heart box, “When people are referencing quadrants? This one is usually the one they’re using outright, because we don’t really have another word for it? Maybe ‘rivals’ but it’s usually more romantic than that. This one is kismesis, and it’s basically… kiiiind of being in love with someone you hate?” Demyx frowned, “Again, not really rivals, there’s a total romantic tension people who say they’re in one of these absolutely has, but! Otherwise they’re not really together because, again, there is this level of aggression they have against each other that makes it so they can’t really be together. That’s the best way I can explain it, I’ve never felt this myself, but I have known two people growing up who, like, really made me believe in it, they were just absolutely in a kismesis relationship together. And I see it a little in my family too. Lauriam and Dilan, actually, have some of it going on, though I don’t think they couldn’t manage to make it work as a matesprit pairing. They’re not dangerous to each other.”

Sam shifted a little more, looking at the diagram in the sand Demyx was making. Okay, heart made sense! “Oh, I think I see what you mean by it being a debate,” he snorted. “Lotta people here too take issue with the claim that, like…the person you marry is your most important, normal relationship. Connections are waaaay more varied than that. Though,” he laughed, “I’d actually need to be in a relationship like that to even think of trying to sound cool and cultured.”

Spade was next, and… Sam tilted his head. “I dunno if I’d really get it as ‘love with someone you hate’, but there are like…hm. Things based on light antagonism? I guess? That one’s never made a ton of sense to me, in like a gut feeling way. I get teasing, but it’d break my heart to genuinely be mean to someone I loved, you know? Like!!” Sam gestured emphatically. “They’re my special person! I love them! Why would you be mean?!”

“But I know that’s not how it goes for everyone,” he shrugged. “So, okay, yeah. Spade. Kismesis.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Demyx agreed, nodding, “Again, if I hadn’t seen an example myself growing up? I’d have probably called bs on this one. But, it’s a thing. In fact, it’s such a thing, that eventually a third part of that relationship became so common that it got its own name,” he drew a little club next to the spade, beneath the heart, as he explained, “Basically? Someone who loves both sides of the kismesis so much, that they put themselves at risk by joining the relationship specifically to run interference so they won’t kill each other. This,” Demyx pointed at the club, “Is why calling them ‘rivals’ doesn’t really work, and why they’re not just another form of matesprits. They’re not matesprits with attitudes: they’re dangerous to each other. And adding a third person they both care about to the relationship can basically be the last resort to keep them from killing each other. This is called an auspistic relationship.”

Demyx didn’t know enough about the world outside of Luminary to realize this needed clarifying, but a huge reason auspitic relationships were recognized as valid relationships, was the implied understanding that if you cared about someone, their enemy became your enemy. If someone was willing to go against that cultural norm, not choosing a side and not adopting an enemy of someone they cared about? Those feelings for both parties were extremely strong then, and it had to be recognized as its own form of love. 

“Oh, uh…” Sam’s eyebrows raised a bit. “Okay, I don’t really get the last one, then. Usually if people want to kill each other, the best thing you can do is separate them, if one of them doesn’t get arrested first. That’s…really intense. Though I guess that’s why you guys define another type with a mediator, for, uh, continued non-death. Which, yanno, that’s good! Not dying is typically a good thing for a relationship, in my book.”

He tilted his head a little. “Feels like you have to be some real specific people to pull off an ‘auspistic’ relationship, like…non-toxically. Big ups to the people that can.”

“More like the two kismesis have to be just the right kind of freaks,” Demyx scoffed, “That’s what I mean by ‘normal’ matesprit relationships. You hate someone, but you also love them? Why? Pick one. You actually want to involve yourself in that mess? Whyyyyy?” Demyx said, shaking his head, “Love makes people stupid, no matter where you are on the quadrant.”

“The last one you hear about people having a lot, buuuut, I dunno… I feel like people misunderstand this one. I hear a lot of people who are rocking that friends with benefits lifestyle say they’re this, but that always struck me as off,” Demxy said, drawing a little diamond next to the heart, “People say this is the one where you love your best friend? Buuut… okay, I’m full of controversial opinions, buuuuut,” Demyx leaned in, whispering like he was saying something scandalous. Which, in certain pubs, he absolutely would be, as he said, “I think this is a class love. Like, mixing the classes. See, how it’s described is it can be a non-romantic sort of love, where your friends with someone enough to want to take care of them when they’re having a hard time, right? Best friends for life sort of stuff. But.”

He tapped into the center of the diamond, “There’s always this extra bit that if you’re talking about it in depth, someone will always bring up as an afterthought, where one aspect of a moirallegiance– they’re called moirallegiances– is that one person stops the other person from acting immoral, or dangerous, essentially. ‘Moral’ ‘Alliance’,” Demyx explained, “And the only type of relationship I can think of where allowing someone to, like, rein you in like that and it be considered anything other than a matesprit, is in a relationship where that’s super taboo. Such as someone from a lower class doing it to someone in a higher class, and the higher actually listens to them. I think this whole part of the spectrum is just trying to define a relationship between an elite and a commoner, where the commoner is the one making the calls.”

“...oh!” Demyx startled, “I breezed by that didn’t I! You asked what elites were. Basically the ruling class. You guys don’t have elites?”

Sam had nodded, doing his best to understand, but with every interpretation of the diamond relationship that Demyx crossed off, and more as he got into what he believed it was, his nods slowed, only pure confusion on Sam’s face. Which was probably because he was missing a very important clarifying question. 

“The ruling class? Uh…” Sam scratched the back of his head, still trying to work through all that. “Like governors and Lamanes and stuff? I guess they do literally make the rules, but something about that just rubs me the wrong way, man… Like,” Sam huffed, his lip ring clicking against his teeth a little, “Who went and made you the ruler of the world? Rain falls on your schedule and animals walk on your paths? Bullshit, the world’s for everyone.”

“...and I guess even one person could technically be a class,” Sam mused, squinting at the sky, “But that does seem kinda weird to classify them as their own thing.”

“Wow, you guys don’t have class?” Demyx asked, eyes widening, “What’s that like? I’m… well, noooow I’m a commoner class. A year ago I was a second-class citizen, which is not something you want to be.” Demyx sighed, shaking his head, “Things like Indentured or prisoners, basically anyone who’s not in charge of their own freedom. But, yeah, now I’m a commoner! And there’s the poor class, middle class, upper… and then the elites, the noble class, the wealthy class, the royals… you don’t label those? Man, is my country just really into labeling things?”

Sam gave Demyx a concerned, pouty look--people not in charge of their own freedom??? That was just straight up blasphemy!!--before he sighed, closing his eyes and bringing his hands up as if that’d let him better consolidate all the information. “I mean…we do have classes, but I guess not the same way you guys do? I guess one of the big ones, is, like…Novis doesn’t have royalty?” He peeked an eye open, giving Demyx a small shrug. “Like kings and queens ‘n shit--not a thing here. So there’s no royal class.”

“I…guess people involved with religion are kinda their own class,” Sam guessed, now trying to really define things, “Like, if you’re a local religious leader, like Lewis or Caroline here, that’s kinda special, and if you’re part of the monastery that makes offering wine or mead, then that’s a huge deal. But mostly it’s kind of about how much money you make? And…I guess there can be some weird pressure between someone really rich and someone poor hooking up, but it’s not really taboo.” Sam shrugged a little. “Like just weirdness like people assuming that someone’s a gold digger, or someone’s got a financial domination kink. But nothing anyone’s gonna really do anything about.”

“Huh… that sounds kind of kickass,” Demyx said, grinning, eyes lighting up, “Man, your island sounds wild! Seriously, I need to visit you guys someday, that sounds like the sort of party I want to go to. You just go places and everyone you meet you’re basically allowed to talk to?! None of that bullshit dancing around the subject or being anyone’s dirty little secret or… damn, that sounds like a paradise, honestly. It sounds so easy!” 

“Man, that’s making me wonder what Dicea’s like now,” Demyx admitted with a pout, “I mean, I know at least one of their royals is cool. Like, really cool, outrageously cool… but now that I know not everyone does classes and stuff the way we do? I guess I just hope I’m not jumping from the pan into the fire. It’d be cool to live somewhere I don’t have to worry about stuff like that!” He grinned, looking excited, a little flushed at the idea. “Man, now I’m looking forward to going AND somehow I’m more nervous! Hah!”

“Not to brag but our parties are literally divine,” Sam winked, “It’s a good time down here. Especially if you manage to catch a holiday? I think it’d blow your mind.”

Sam’s was blown again as he stammered, “Wait, you’re not allowed to talk to some people? I thought you just meant like side-eye or people being stuck-up! That’s crazy…” He then narrowed his eyes. “...wait, Kimigashine has royalty. And Morris made it all ‘this is important, Mr. Thunraz, your employment will not tolerate it’ when he said I couldn’t talk to customers that come in…is that what that’s about?!”

As Sam gawked at his sudden revelation--Morris! That was kinda fucked up!--he then calmed, smiling as he saw Demyx’s excited fluster. “I hope it’s cool for you, dude. Don’t really know much about Dicea myself, but that means I haven’t heard bad things, you know? And, I dunno, I don’t hear people calling leaders ‘cool’ that often. If you say so, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

Demyx didn’t know who Morris was, but he nodded with absolute confidence, “Oh yeah, that’s classist talk right there. Who you can and can’t talk to is maybe one of the most important parts of it. Rich people can talk to you, you can’t talk to them, sort of thing. I mean, I’d say you don’t have to deal with that if all around you are commoners, but that’s not really true. There’s a lot of little nitpicky details they can get you on. When my Divine Core comes out? He messes that up alllll the time.”

Demyx paused, “Can I do that? Call being drunk activating my divine core? Or should I not since I don’t worship Iony?”

“Oh noooooooooooooo,” Sam groaned, flopping back on the sand, “That sounds so confusing! And easy to fuck up! I wouldn’t even need my Divine Core, I’d just fuck it up on my own!!”

Sam tilted his head over from his dismay to look at Demyx. “Oh, totally. It’s like…booze isn’t divine because we worship Iony and so it’s just applicable to people who do. It is because of its own nature. Everyone, regardless of what they believe in, has a Divine Core. People just wouldn’t think of it like that, or think about taking the lessons from it if they don’t believe, right?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Demyx said, though admittedly he was still spinning that around in his head when he said it. But the more he spun it in his mind, yeah, that logic was sound, “I’d say if you ever wanted an excuse to get down and dirty with someone, feel free to evoke Atua, but, like, I don’t think that does anything for anyone who’s not Atuan. You could probably just do it for any reason, if you’re going that route. You still can though, if you want, I’m atuan, I say it’s allowed– Oh!” 

Demyx snapped, incredibly pleased as he said, “You need an excuse for a religious sexy scenario for kink?! Hell, Atuan rituals are perfect for that. You can use THAT, I,” Demyx smirked, jutting out his chin and jabbing his thumb to himself, “give permission! Atua be pleased!”

Sam looked pretty pleased himself before he snickered. “I think I’d have to know a little more about a ritual more than ‘it’s having sex’, but, hey! I’ll take the permission whole-heartedly, thanks~ I’ll take any advantage I can to up my game.”

Snorting a bit, Sam rolled his eyes. “As if I haven’t been flirting with the same handful of people for years, but things change! And it’s always fun to spice things up.”

“Tsk, oh, god, I get that,” Demyx sighed, sitting up with a stretch before resting his head on his knee, “...hey, I know we don’t know each other that well, but can I lay something heavy on you? And it’s genuine heavy! And, like, you can say no, I don’t need to talk about it or anything like that. You just seem cool and I really can’t imagine who you’d tell.”

Demyx paused, before snorting, “I mean, don’t project it on the empath radio, but otherwise, yeah.”

Sam blinked up at Demyx before sitting up as well, drawing a line between his lips and turning the end. “My lips are sealed, 100%. Won’t even tell Abby or ‘Bas, and I tell them everything.” Sam smiled sympathetically. “I mean, we already touched on that you were enslaved, dude. If it’s heavier than that, I might need a sec, but we’ve already gotten into shit.”

“You might not need to talk about it, but if you want to, I’m all ears.”

“You can tell them other stuff about me, I don’t even mind they know I was a slave or that I’m squicked out by dilfs,” Demyx snickered, before sobering a bit, “No, the only reason I’m reserved about this one is because, well… I don’t know, me and my family keep waiting for something to happen to us. For the mob to show up. It’s not a secret where we came from, but we don’t talk about it casually to people in case someone tries to use it against us.”

“Soooooo, all of that really important and earnest reasons why I shouldn’t say it out of the way,” Demyx giggled sheepishly, “I’ve spent my entire time in the indentured program, locked away in the factories they condition people in. They… used me and my abilities to force other people in the program to obey. They did that to everyone I call my family. All my friends… we were only let out this year. But other than that? For the last decade, my life has been, mooooore or less, 12 other people.”

“And that…” Demyx laughed a little, sounding both sheepish and a little uncomfortable, “...was pretty lonely.” 

Concern, much like what had started their conversation, flitted over Sam’s face. Demyx and his family were being targeted by the mob?? It was chance Sam even knew what that was, but he knew enough comparisons to pirates that it was really fucking bad and scary. So whatever they were being targeted for…

Sam’s eyes widened a bit. Demyx’s abilities….Empathy. To…make people obey. But Demyx had been a slave himself, to if it wasn’t Empathy doing that to him, and the rest of his family too…

12 people?

Sam moved in, giving Demyx a hug. Something similar to what he’d give his little brother, size differences aside. “Aw dude…” Sam huffed with a bubble in his throat, “You’re gonna make me cry for real. My town’s like…30-ish people? And even that can drive me crazy. Just thirteen of you…”

Pulling back, not wanting to stifle Demyx in the hug, Sam gave Demyx a strained smile. “Don’t wanna presume, but…sometimes even if you’re around the people closest to you, it…can get really lonely.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, it’s over now!” Demyx laughed, though he not only leaned into the hug, he immediately hugged back. Flushed with delight at the random bout of physical affection, the effect it had on him like being dosed with a needle of dopamine straight to his veins. 

The others didn’t like to hug much. Demyx had learned to not need them. 

“I love my family. You can’t help it, you spend every day with someone, close proximity, they’re the only ones there… I can’t say I’d have loved all of them if I had just met them out in the wild,” Demyx admitted, hugging Sam tight before allowing him to pull away, dropping his hands into his laps and shrugging, “But that’s not what happened. We all ended up there. And now I love them.”

“But man,” Demyx sighed, looking out into the ocean, letting the breeze brush his hair back, “I’d get so lonely that my skin would itch. Physically, I could feel it. Especially those first few years? I remember there was this one day where I thought I was going to go insane. Like, I was on the verge of something that I wouldn’t have come back from, and I remember Dilan finding me and I think he could just see it on my face. That I was on the edge. And he just grabbed me and held on. For hours. To the point where I fought him, had this whole mental breakdown on him, and he just held on. And… I got through it. Came out the other end and my brain was still coherent.”

Demyx sighed again, living in that memory for a moment… before he snorted, “And yeah! Flirting with the same people for a decade!? Auuuuugh!” Demyx groaned, flopping backwards back into the sand, laughing, “That’s why I wanted to bring all that up! So I could say, yep! Yep. I get that!” 

Oh. That was a good hug. 

It was a nice thought to say that you could choose your family. In a lot of ways you could! And it ruled! But sometimes you just…ended up loving someone through circumstance, and, welp, now they’re yours. And there was no limit on family, but sometimes the family you had did make it more difficult to seek out things you needed. People you needed. 

Sam gave Demyx a soft look, wincing as Demyx described the kind of loneliness that drove you crazy, and just let out a huffed sigh as Demyx got around to the point he wanted to make. “That is so much more than just living in a tiny town with like six or seven people around your age. Dude…”

It was barely a moment of consideration, really. Sam looked back to give Demyx a warm, friendly smile. “Okay, like, again. I know we don’t know each other that well. But…man, if you ever just want a hug? Or, like, to cuddle or something? Take this as a blanket yes unless I speak up about something, ‘kay?”

He half-shrugged with a fond smile. “Bassy is the kind of guy that needs a lot of alone time. He’s kind of the opposite--even just being in the same area as people can drive him nuts if it’s for long enough. I get it, so I hold back sometimes…and I am super lucky my little brother is still all about hugs and piggyback rides. But, like…I get it.”

Sam squinted. “Well, no, I don’t, not exactly like you, but, like, a form of it? If I had my way I’d never be more than a few inches away from someone, is what I mean. So…yeah. Offer’s open.”

Demyx blinked at him, processing that… processing… processing…

And then he shot forward. Tackling Sam’s torso and wrapping his arms around it, before burying his face in his stomach.

“You are soooooo not prepared if you didn’t think I was going to take you up on that.” Demyx said into Sam’s shirt, before leaning back and peeking up, flushed with excitement just to be near someone as he said, “Now’s your chance to take it back! Otherwise I’m not moving.”

“Ooph!” Sam grunted, before laughing brightly, resting his arms on Demyx’s shoulder and back and eeeeever so slightly crooking his knees. Not quite full-on cradling Demyx, but his returned hold secure. Affectionate. Caring. “No take-backsies! I know the rules~ You’re a little behind on first touch, but if you stake your claim now, my lap is yours! Sorry, Miku~”

Demyx smiled wide, rubbing his face into Sam’s stomach some more, before laying back, perfectly content to leave his head on Sam’s lap as he said, “Oh yeah, Miku! I have to meet this chick at some point! You should invite her to say high, she can claim a side to lean on!”

“Oh! You think so? I didn’t think about it since we weren’t playing today, but, yeah! Okay, hold on…”

Sam closed his eyes and took a breath, idly rubbing Demyx’s back a bit, as the sound of skateboard wheels racing against stone roads echoed pleasantly in the trees behind them. 

{Hey, Demyx and I are just hanging out in my head. If you wanna, wanna come by to meet him/hang out too?}

{u_u}

{O.O}

{OoO sorry wires crossed one second}

{u_u}

{Oh, hey Sam! Yeah, cool, I have time! Be right there, let me just go lay down!}

Demyx looked like a cat that had found the sunny spot, just entirely comfortable laying in someone’s lap. He was, as Ienzo had said, an extrovert, and a touch-starved one at that. You know who DIDN’T let you lay your head on their laps for hours if you had no coin to spend? Brothels! You know who didn’t let you lay your head on their lap for hours? Most everyone Demyx knew! 

Now he was in someone’s lap and they were petting him and he was in the sun and about to meet a new person and things were fantastic.

The only thing that could make it better was if Ienzo was hanging out too! Though, Demyx hadn’t begged him to meet his new friends yet because, well, he wanted to get to know them better before subjecting Ienzo to them. His bud was so anti-social, if Demyx offered duds as his first attempt to socialize with him, Ienzo would probably never bother meeting any of Demyx’s friends again. He had to make sure they’d jive! 

So now it was time to meet the famous Miku. Who, after a moment, stepped into the sand– “Hah!” Demyx laughed, “Why didn’t you say she was another blond!? Guys, we’re all bright, bright blonds! What are the odds! Do you have green eyes too!?”

“Oh, no, shoot!” Miku pouted, already seeing the missed opportunity as she gave them a wave, “Pink!” 

“Awwww. Well, that’s alright! It means you’ll stand out as our lead singer! Hi!” Demyx grinned, “I called his lap! I’m Demyx!”

“Oh, okay!” Miku said, blinking at the two men, “...should I call somewhere else?” 

“Heya!” Sam called as Miku touched down in his mind--a much more subdued entrance than her last--and he gave her a wave, before continuing to rub Demyx’s back. “Aw man, you’re right! I even made a point about that earlier--gah, even more reason why we’re gonna be cool as hell.”

Snorting a little, Sam gave Miku a bright smile. “Only if you want to! We’re having a ‘it’s nice to have hugs’ kind of vibe, but stock is not limited! Oh, right!” Sam nodded around the beach. “Ta-daa~ Welcome to a way nicer view than the stockroom at my work. I think theoretically I could walk around the whole town in here, but I mostly just chill at the beach, so enjoy beach-y things to your heart’s content!”

“You know, that sounds awesome! But, I think I should take advantage of the band being all together,” Miku grinned, and while she thought it was cute, what this Demyx guy was up to, she still only went to sit by them, as she said, “So Demyx, you’re the sitar guy?”

“Mhm!” Demyx hummed, adjusting to better look at Miku, wrapping his arms around Sam’s leg as he said, “I’m sitar guy! You’re the singing girl?”

“Singing girl!” Miku smiled, “Though, my favorite style of singing is a little odd. I can do it the normal way if you don’t end up jiving with it.”

“I bet I can! Can I hear something?” Demyx asked.

“Already?” Miku said, considering it as Demyx nodding, “Hmmm… it’s sort of like–”

Rather than singing lyrics, Miku just sang out some notes, a nice little melody. But Demyx immediately understood what she meant, as his eyes widened in shock, forcing his head up and off Sam’s lap to hear her better, “Woah! Okay, that’s new! I don’t know how to describe that, other then maybe you’re singing into a metal can? But not quite. Hold on, let me–”

Demyx lifted his hand, and out of the water of the ocean formed his sitar, shifting and forming into his hands as he started to play. “Eyyyyy, those sounds kinda work together…” he noticed, at first just matching Miku’s notes, before starting to flourish on them. 

Sam was practically a second sun in the mindscape with how he lit up, watching his two new friends start to hit it off. They were both cool, so Sam figured that it’d be fine when they met, but seeing it in action? OH HELL YES!

(It was nice when people got along.)

“Oooh yeah, Miku was explaining to me a lot of cool singing stuff she does,” Sam egged on, even more delighted as Demyx prompted her into a song. And as he started to join in? Ha! Guess it was a band practice day after all!

Just listening to the two of them hone in on each other for a moment, enjoying the sound, Sam wasn’t just gonna let himself be left out…and he could already envision the space in the soundscape he could fit right in…

Hands already in position, Sam’s guitar appeared in his arms, though what he strummed maybe wasn’t what the others would expect. Sam’s guitar, not even just for matching with Miku and Demyx, was tuned waaaay down, a rumbly, in your chest bass sound that balanced out the high reaches of Miku’s voice. Sam rounding out the harmonies that Demyx and Miku made in melody.

Oh shit, this would actually work. 

That thought crossed all their minds, in various forms, as they listened to their clumsy but earnest first attempt. It sounded good. Or, good in the sense that there was clear potential. Miku, wanting to take it a step further, made up some nonsense lyrics off the top of her head, “You’re eating a day-old hamburger with a munch-munch~”

U_U

Demyx, lighting up, added two high strung notes to that, like he was timing her in. Sam’s bass strumming along in a steady beat.

“You own 12 gold watches that all go tick-tock, tick-tock~”

O.O

“Diligently writing another shitty song~” Miku laughed, slightly teasing herself as she continued, “And people want to call it all a waste of time–”

♫♪ ULTIMATE SENPAI!! ♫♪

♫♪ ULTIMATE SENPAAAAAAIII!! ♫♪

TOTALLY BEING COOL AND NOT A WASTE OF TIIIIME!!

“Oh shit,” Demyx said, his fingers working as he raised an eyebrow as flashing, colorful lights suddenly covered all of them, almost blocking out the beach as some little thing spun in the air… wait, “Is that Amaina Chan!? Amaina, did you follow me?”

“Noooo,” Miku sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose, “She followed me. Amaina, I was just joking! I’m fiiiine!” 

OoO oh okay then

O.O

OoO you may still applaud now

Miku sighed, clapping. 

Sam giggled quietly, delighted at the lyrics Miku chose for this, starting to get into more of a groove as she established more of a meter and flow. This…this was something. There was definitely something here, like a treasure trove just waiting to be--

Sam’s vision exploded into color. And the others talked for a moment, but all he could hear was…

“Wait, wait, wait, Amaina, do that again!!” he encouraged, a song being stitched together in his head. And as she sang, he echoed a more staccato “Senpai!” during her sustain, before laughing a snort as he grinned sunnily at Miku, singing quickly, “Writhing alone from all the pain inside without a sound or thought through the niiiight~!”

Miku sighed–fiiine–before she sang out quickly, “Destined to throw your lust, your need for sleep and foot to the wind. Life as unplanned as getting every single topping at a buffet–”

“Wow, fast,” Demyx said approvingly, before slamming his hands on his strings, two loud BNNSH, BNNSH! 

♫♪ ULTIMATE SENPAI!! ♫♪

♫♪ ULTIMATE SENPAAAAAAIII!! ♫♪

WRITHING ON THE GROUND 

YOUR FUTURES ON THE LINE!!

“Who exactly is the crazy one here?” Miku sighed.

♫♪ UL–TI–MATE SENPAAAAAAAAAAI!! ♫♪

“Pffff. I feel like this quickly became a roast.” Demyx snickered. 

“We’re not the ones that started it,” Sam giggled, “It’s tongue in cheek! Very punk.”

OOO NOW EVERYONE CLAPS

As Miku and Demyx clapped, Miku looked over to Demyx, “You know Amaina?”

“Yeah! She visited a friend of mine not long ago,” Demyx said, “He introduced us. You know Amaina?”

“She’s my chibi.” Miku sighed.

“Oh,” Demyx said, laying his hands on his lap, “...oh!! Oh, so you’re a powerful empath!”

“No, she’s a powerful construct. I’m mid at best.” Miku said, “She likes to watch me sing and play when I do, but she tends to butt in if she thinks I need a ‘boost’.”

OOO OF P O W E R 

OoO or just mood

“Yeah, pretty much.” Miku said.

“Well, it was awesome! Your singing is great, but having a backup vocalist to just belt out some lines at the top of her little voice is a great add-on, Amaina should play with us,” Demyx grinned, before looking to Sam, “What do you think? It was a good mix, right?”

✪▽✪

“THAT WAS AWESOME!!” Sam hooted, looking literally starry-eyed. There was a change on the beach, but this time it was a sweet wind through the trees, like a mix of flowers at the peak of their bloom, and maybe someone in town was making cotton candy so there was this hint of sweetness along with it. The beach started to glitter under the sun, aided by iridescent shells promising endless discovery for sandcastles and beach-combers, while the sea was almost as teal as Sam’s eyes, inviting and beckoning. 

“DUDE WE SOUND SO GOOD!! I’ve never heard anything like that, it was incredible!” he cheered, before getting his head back at least a little. “Oh, hold up, you guys sorta knew each other?”

“We did sound good!” Demyx cheered, “Your bass was sooooo smooth, it was so easy to play off of, and Miku, your sound is insane! How’d you even come up with it!?”

“Iiiiiii have to admit…” she opened up her arms, and Amaina flew into them, snuggling against her not unlike how Demyx had snuggled into Sam earlier, as Miku held her gently, “She was an inspiration. That’s just how she came out talking, and I started to mimic and play with it in my singing.”

“No wonder you two play off each other so well.” Demyx said. “And yeah, we both know Amaina, so I guess I kinda knew you?”

“Sort of,” Miku smiled, “I… know of you,” she said, something a little uncertain in her voice. Her gaze flicking over to Sam. 

“...oh! He knows!” Demyx realized, putting up his hands, “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I mean, it’s not his business, it’s not even my business,” Miku shrugged, “But okay, good, we don’t have to talk around it! Soooo long as we’re talking about the whole ‘Nobody’ thing.”

“Oh, nope.” Demyx laughed, “Nope, not what I was talking about.”

“Oh!” Miku turned bright red, before slapping her hands together, bowing her head, “Sorry!” 

“Ah, it’s okay, it’s not a big deal. I’m not a Nobody anymore! One of the whole ones.” Demyx said, before glancing at Sam, “It’s a whooole thing, I wore a mask to make work easier when I was in the factory, the mask sort of took over my life, it’s whatever. I’m better now!”

“A’thank you~” Sam winked, before lighting up as Demyx asked about Miku’s sound. Cooing adoringly a bit as she explained--aww, it really was a sound straight from the art of her heart…--before piping up, “Right, I forgot! I talked to this dude the other day, and he said this thing called ‘electric music’ is gonna be big where he’s from and the way he described, like, how the inspiration of the sound came about sounded just like what you told me about yours! Miku, you’re a music pioneer!!”

Though, that was just one revelation of many as, uh… Sam blinked at Demyx, before groaning and throwing himself at Demyx’s side, hugging around his waist. “I’m glad!! But man, the number of things that are ‘it’s over and things are better now’ is scary! I’m concerned! What do you mean a mask took over your life?!”

“It was nooooothiiiiing,” Demyx half whined, half laughed as he caught Sam, patting his back a bit, before shrugging, “Okay, that’s a lie, it was a lot. The empaths at the factory, to–oh, do you know I’m from the factory?” Demyx asked Miku.

“Like, a factory that makes what?” Miku asked.

OOO MENTAL ILLNESS

“Yeah, she’s right,” Demyx nodded, “Okay, so! Can we keep this between the band!? Ah, it’s kinda too late now, Amaina knows even if Miku doesn’t know yet, so its fine. So, I got into debt when I was 17, got arrested, was put into the Indentured Program… no, that’s a lie too, I volunteered, I could have gone to jail,” Demyx sighed, lamenting the choices he made, “I thought it’d be better for me in the long run. It was noooot. So, I’m in the program, I got to get conditioned at the factory that makes mental illness, which is how we compel people to obey in a program that doesn’t exist anymore, they found out I was an empath, forced me to stay in the factory because it turns out empaths are the ones doing the conditioning–”

OoO and those monsters didnt decorate at all the factories were boooooring all gray and blegh

O.O

OoO;; not that I looked

“Uh huh,” Demyx said dryly.

O.O

QOQ DON’T LET THE OUMA EAT ME IT WAS BORING I DIDNT STAY

“I don’t care as much as the others do, you’re a little nosy snoop but, well… I’ll admit, I just don’t find you all that intimidating.” Demyx said.

OvO I’m cute

“Mhm! So, I got caught up in that, and how we coped with it was making constructs that worked as personas, or masks. Or, what we called them, Nobodies. Versions of us that were heartless and wouldn’t care. Mine was a lady named Larxene! She looked like me, but hot. And mean.” Demyx grinned, “She was returned to base essence a few weeks ago, now that I don’t need her anymore. It took some effort, but I managed. All good now!”

Qmq 

“dude.” Sam whined, indeed teary eyed, before poking Demyx in the arm. “And you’re still hot! No tear downs for comparisons!”

He took a breath, sitting up properly again and rubbing his hands down his face before just keeping his fingers to his mouth. “That’s…so messed up. Like not your Nobody, but, like…everything that led you to having to make her? And…” Sam’s eyebrows scrunched in as it dawned on him, “If you were kinda…stuck as her for a while? That’s terrifying. Like…were you just trapped in your head?”

“Eh, sort of,” Demyx said, wincing as he tried to think of how to explain it, “It was kind of like… dreaming or… being drunk… oh,” He paused, before laughing, “It might not be all that different from Divine Core. Only my Divine Core was who I needed, not the wisest version of me. And I remember it about just as well, without beng blacked out. Does that make sense?”

“Oooh…” Sam nodded, absolutely getting that. Before he winced. “Yikes. Like, Divine Cores are an important part of you, but if they were you all the time? That’s…yikes. Especially one that wasn’t just you without inhibition, it was…survival you.” Sam wilted a bit, really thinking that over. Survival was important, yeah, but…it wasn’t living. Being stuck in survival mode like that, constantly, for a decade.

Sam got teary again. “Seriously, I’m gonna save up for an offering bottle when you come to visit. You’re owed it, man.”

Pat, pat, pat, Demyx patted Sam’s back some more, before grinning at Miku, “I keep making him cry because I’m tragic.”

“We should put it into a song,” Miku said immediately, “....but vaguely. Make it sound metaphorical.”

“Ooooh,” Demyx’s eyes widened, “We should!”

QoQ I like singing about senpai

“Not a chance.” Miku said. 

“It would go so hard,” Sam sniffed…before pausing, giving Demyx an earnest look. “Though, uh…I’m usually all about self-expression, who cares who’s listening, but since we’re in an Empath space, if we ever played it more publicly? Then your family’s some of the percentage that would be able to listen. Whoooo’d know it’s not that metaphorical. You okay with that?”

“They’ll make fun of me, but that’s okay. Just so long as no one gets weird at us, preferably,” Demyx winced, “But, I’m sure it’d be fine. We’ll be vague!”

O.O

OoO Larxene, Larxene, Larxeeeene Laaaaarxeeeeene

QOQ IM BEGGING YOU PLEASE DONT BE MY MAAAAAN

“You really did not hold back peeking at all, did you.” Demyx said

OOO”” DONT EAT ME!!

“I’m sorry,” Miku sighed.

Sam gave Demyx his own pat on the back before huffing. “If anyone wants to get weird, they’ll have to say it to my damn face. Art is expression! And someone saying your expression is wrong is a total dipshit!”

Though, he couldn’t help but snicker a bit at Amaina’s song. “Heeeey, there’s something there too. Adjustment of a relationship after a transition? You’re just full of ideas huh,” he winked at her.

OoO I just figured music man wouldn’t wanna be music ma’am again

“...high five for Music Ma’am, that’s very funny,” Demyx laughed.

They high-fived. Amaina’s little nub made a ‘WHACK’ sound effect.  

-

Sam was just…so pumped. Yeah, he loved being in a band with Sebastian and Abigail, and he knew they enjoyed the music, but there was something so invigorating and magical about playing with other musicians that seemed to live for music as much as he did. And even just messing around, learning each others’ sound, it had felt so right.

Not to mention that Miku and Demyx were just cool. 

After they bade him farewell for the evening, Sam had been in an incredible mood, playing around with Vincent and even managing to pull Jodi into some of their games, laughing. It was awesome. 

…

…

…but…it didn’t mean that some parts weren’t scary. Horrifying. And…Sam was happy! That everything was behind Demyx now! That was great. But the sense of paralyzing dread that he woke up with wasn’t…great. Sam normally slept in a while, but that wasn’t the case this time. He just…couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed, even as he heard his mom and brother leave for the day. 

But he did eventually, and skated across the town square to the general store. 

The little bells above the door jingled as he walked in, giving Pierre a wave--even with the stern look Abby’s dad gave him, sheesh, like he’d ever steal anything!--before spotting green hair down one of the few aisles. 

“Caroline! Hey,” he called to her, giving a grin and a small wave as she turned. “Hey, uh, so I know group worship was yesterday, but…”

Thankfully, he was saved from having to finish his trailing thought, Caroline giving him a kind look. “Need a spiritual check-in session? I have some time, Sam, I’ll take care of you.”

Sam let out a small sigh of relief. “Thanks, Saltigue, I appreciate it.”

He followed her to the back of the store, into the rest of the Preiras’ house, a little surprised when Caroline didn’t head to the shrine, but instead led him through their kitchen, as she grabbed a few things, and into her private tearoom. Not that he was complaining, really, he found the sunny, greenhouse-like vibe of Caroline’s tearoom to be a more comforting place than the enclosed shrine. 

Gesturing for him to take a seat on a stool, Caroline gave Sam a small smile. “Worried about your father? Jodi was pretty fervent in yesterday’s gathering… Or,” Caroline’s expression softened with pity as she lowered her voice even with just the two of them there, and Sam was suddenly enlightened as to why they had gone to the tearoom. The shrine didn’t have a door, after all. “Are you having trouble eating again, honey?”

Sam felt a little shame drop into his stomach, before he gave Caroline a weak smile. “It’s…kind of everything. Of everything.”

Thankfully that seemed to be an answer Caroline would accept, as she nodded and poured two shots into shallow cups of a deep, dark liquid. “I see; well, I’ll do my best to help you out, Sam.” Passing him one of the cups, she instructed, “Take a deep breath and take a sip, holding the liquor in your mouth. Close your eyes as we ask for our prayers to show the strength of our spirits, and swallow.”

Sam wasn’t sure exactly what Caroline had poured, but immediately a caramelized sweet, smoky flavor hit his mouth, burning everything just so to leave a trail of fire down his throat as he swallowed. He felt Caroline take the cup from him afterward, and guide his hands to his knees, cradling the backs of his palms in her hands as they rested there. 

“Let’s take some deep breaths. Breathe in…and out,” she guided, Sam following along. Filling his chest and then steadily breathing out on her rhythm. “Feel your ribs, your belly expanding, filling with air…and then let it all out, releasing the tension in your body.”

“You are safe. You are love. You are one with the universe, stars glitter through your veins as plants follow your breath and every animal recognizes its kinship in you,” she spoke, calmly and gently as he started breathing on his own. “You are an active participant in your life, the eyes through which the universe sees itself. Its reflection is a joy, the wonder of being, in you. Every kindness you do is self-love, the world’s reflection.”

“You are worthy,” Caroline said, starting to press slow, expanding circles on his palms, “Your space here is intentional. Fill your cup so that the overflow might fill others’. Indulging in your life, your experiences, your love, makes a life colorful, what we were made for. Your existence is a product of love and to nurture that in yourself is a wonderful thing.”

“You are forgiveness. You are your actions…but each moment is a choice for a new action to change that meaning. You are never stagnant, but as free and flowing as any river.” Caroline gently set Sam’s hands on his knees without her hands as a buffer, and after a moment he could feel her dripping a liquid into his palms. “You forgive yourself, letting go of guilt, and fear. You are open, and changing. You forgive others, letting go of resentment, and anger. They are as much a reflection of you as the world or the vessel you inhabit.”

As Caroline talked, Sam just focused on her words, not thinking about anything else. Letting himself be in the moment, feeling the sunlight from the windows, the smell of the plants around him, the warmth and small pressure of Caroline’s hands on his… And slowly, things felt open. A murmur washing back and forth like ocean tides in his head, snippets of intent in psychic space. Sam really, literally feeling the connection between all living things. Everything…as one. Not as separate as they seemed. 

Somewhere far above, he heard Caroline say, “Alright… You rest here as long as you need to, honey. Take your time.”

But Sam felt far from alone when the distant door clicked shut.

-

It was taking too long. 

Sure sure, Marluxia didn’t want Ienzo to actually fry his brain, but if he wasn’t pretending not to sulk about Demyx then he kept ‘testing his boundaries’ in all sorts of ways that left the little idiot looking frazzled and overwhelmed by the time one of them dragged him downstairs to properly eat. 

Which was SO RUDE! Marluxia had been very clear that he wanted to be next in line and for that to be soon and what did Ienzo do? Use up every little piece of brain power indulging his own damn curiosity. Ugh, like the twerp had ever been any different. 

But, well, the difference in their power levels wasn’t that big, and Marluxia had heard all the stories along with everyone else. It couldn’t be that hard. So, like everything worthwhile, he’d do it his own damn self. 

So the next chance he got? Marluxia hefted himself into the little roof alcove in one of the treehouses, and slipped down the rabbit hole to his world. 

“Man, you’re cheating. I know you’re cheating. Stop bullshitting with the dealer and play me an actual hand,” Xaldin scoffed, glaring at his cards. 

“We literally play on Destiny Island so that I can’t mess with the dealer, right?” Luxord scoffed, gesturing to the literal lines of squares and box that the ‘dealer’ was represented by, “Even though my setup is so much more fun than this. What even is this?”

“It’s something that doesn’t wink at you, shimmy its shoulders, tell stupid jokes, or take bribes.” Xaldin scowled. “Or give me half-decent hands fucking ever.”

“Tipping the dealer isn’t a ‘bribe’, it’s a well established practice to invite good luck, and one I enjoy,” Luxord said, before the two went quiet. Listening to the sound of someone scurrying out up the tree they were playing in, the two men leaning out the window to peek up just as Marluxia disappeared over the side.

“Guess someone’s going to go hang out in his world,” Luxord mused, leaning back in to play his game. “Alright, so–”

“You didn’t feel that shit?” Xaldin demanded, putting down his cards and getting up, “I swear, the booze is dulling your senses. That guy’s got ‘I’m about to make a dumb decision’ radiating off of him. Mistake waiting to happen just passed on by.”

“Eh? He’s going into his world, what kinda mistake could the lad make?” Luxord frowned, “Wait, where are you going? You going to check on him?”

“Check on him? As if,” Xaldin grinned, stepping out the window, “I wanna watch. Come on, this will be way more fun than losing to your cheating ass.”

“God, you’re a git sometimes.” Luxord sighed, pretending to take a shot of alcohol, before grimacing at the shot. Couldn’t compare to the real thing, or the stuff in his own world… “Alright, I’m coming.”

Marluxia landed among expansive, rolling hills of flowers. Wildflowers intermingled with patches of field flowers, somehow even greenhouse or house plants growing just fine with their distant brethren, creating a pleasant, inviting sea of color and texture…and smell. It wasn’t overwhelmingly flowery, but the soft, sweet, calming scent of flowers, different species rolling right into the next every step you took, was unavoidable. 

Marluxia looked over it passively. Probably a good thing he wasn’t waiting for Ienzo, he’d probably whine about the scent the whole time, with his freak little nose. 

…god, this was dumb. There wasn’t going to be anything here. If the others were waiting to find their sweet, kind, innocent selves buried in their minds, maybe it had worked a few times, but there wasn’t a damn thing more to Marluxia. Kindness wasn’t a luxury afforded. There were no such things as heroes.

But damn if he let Xaldin or any of the others show him up first. 

Scowling, Marluxia held out an arm, summoning his scythe, before glaring at the flower fields. “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he grumbled sarcastically, before striking into the earth, starting to tear the ground asunder. 

Revealing the muck and bones and disgustingly pungent viscera buried underneath. 

“Oh damn, Flower’s become a farmer~” Xaldin snickered, his feet touching the ground just as soon as Marluxia had started digging into the dirt. 

“Fuck,” Luxord winced, covering his nose, “Something died over there.”

“What are you, one of the conditioned? Nothing dies up here,” Xaldin said, strolling over the grass, watching Marluxia work and grumble for a bit, before calling over, “HEY! Trying to start a farm now? Not sure the soil here is any good!” 

Marluxia had noticed Xaldin and Luxord, it was his world, but he didn’t really give a shit if they just wanted to cloudwatch in the corne--

“What do you chucklefucks want?” he groused, giving them an unimpressed look before smiling sarcastically. “It’s the off-season for flower-picking, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Never around here it is~” Xaldin grinned, before rolling his eyes at Luxord’s small scoff, “What are you doing, Flower? Don’t try to tell us you’re making a new construct. I haven’t seen you change your world in years.”

“If you’re trying to be whole, you should wait for Ienzo,” Luxord warned, pulling a flask out and taking a sip from it, before wincing, “Dammit. Fucking wine, really?”

“Please, what would I even use another construct for?” Marluxia scoffed, continuing to slash and drive gouges into the field, revealing more and more of the second half of his conditioning tools. “I don’t have such a martyr complex I’m trying to achieve world peace in my off time.”

And speaking of that, Marluxia rolled his eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s busy giving himself a perpetual aneurysm. And embracing the edgy teen phase we were all waiting to drop. I’m not just going to wait around until he deigns to decide that one of us gets to get our brains back.”

“It barely even sounds hard,” he muttered, “Just have to dig.” With that, Marluxia jabbed the point of his scythe into the ground and shoved, a quake-sized fissure splitting open and smelling worse than sewage as half-decayed skeletons quivered and flopped into the now open space. Their empty faces somehow judging. Disgusted. 

“It can’t actually be that easy,” Luxord pointed out, sipping on the wine despite himself. “Ienzo’s not dragging his feet, lad, he’s trying to figure out how to do it without the Ouma. Which probably means more than just ‘go down’.”

“I dunno, I think our flower has a point,” Xaldin shrugged, though he made absolute zero indication he was about to come over to give him a hand, “The stories they told, it did seem pretty straight forward–the actual fuck, Mar!?”

Both the men winced at the sudden viscera that was coming down on them. Luxord warily pulling his hood up while Xaldin gasped as a literal human skull bonked him on the head, “OW! Marluxia, would you quit fucking around?!”

Sure, sure, Ienzo was studying. Testing. Theorizing. Sitting against a wall for hours a day with his eyes glazed over, doing who knew what could actually be practical in his head. Information was useful, and Ienzo’s library was massive, but Marluxia had always doubted just how much Ienzo actually got done just reading all the time. It seemed like he couldn’t do much of anything when it came to getting their hearts back without actually doing it.

“It just so happens ‘go down’ and ‘go deeper’ are both literal and metaphorical here,” Marluxia huffed, skimming the surface of his reasoning, before looking back to give Xaldin an acid look that quickly turned sickly sweet. “Not having fun? Aw boo~ Looks like someone who wasn’t invited is in the way~”

“Tsk. I just wanted to see you all stressed out and acting wild,” Xaldin said, kicking the skull aside before smirking, “That’s the other thing all those stories had in common. Reaching some sort of breaking point seemed to be a factor. I wouldn’t mind breaking you, if you need the help, Flower~”

“If you two are going to bang, I’m going to leave,” Luxord said, looking down at the gore with a frown, “This alllll… representing something, Marluxia? I guess I know the obvious answer. We’ve got another organ room situation?”

That actually got Marluxia to scoff a laugh as he started slashing deeper again. “If we could actually fuck ourselves back, now there’s a method Ienzo would never figure out.” He knew he wasn’t totally one to talk. Lauriam had been in the factory since he was 12, so it wasn’t like he had been out taking hearts beforehand. But at least, like…he’d had an interest. If it weren’t for the occasional fun bit of sarcastic humor Ienzo tended to bring out, Marluxia’d guess that their brainiac would solely refer to fucking as ‘partaking in fornication’. 

Rolling his eyes a bit, Marluxia gave Luxord a twee smile next. “Luxy, sweetie, you forgetting how I condition? You really should take note of all your brain damage. I didn’t just make bad smells and a sense of desperation ambiently, you know. Good boys and girls get to stay in the fields, while naughty kids get the bone pit.”

He struck again, now some of the dripping skeletons almost lunged of their own accord…but just onto air. No one here to be conditioned now.

Luxord warily looked at the hole, sipping again. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Right. Kinda had forgotten that. I swear, some of you lot got so grim with it. I still think Larxene and I had the best methods. Big, showy, a lot of anticipation, quick punishments, reset. You and Ienzo’s style of letting them sit in it? Again, just seems grim.”

“I think it’s cute~” Xaldin said, strolling over to peek into the pit. “You ever come up with a backstory for all the bones? Naughty kids you just never decided to pull back out?”

“Just fine for your cookie cutters that are just fine flinching at random things, cowering and hot-headed as it suits them,” Marluxia scoffed. “Doesn’t work so well when you have to make someone love and obsess over the big buyer they won’t even really meet until after I’m done. You wear people down until they don’t want choices. I have to make them want the right choices so much they’d rather die otherwise. It’s a little more complex.”

Glancing up at Xaldin, Marluxia smirked. “I usually leave that up to imaginations and whispers, but wait until you see the graves.”

There was a sound like metal hitting stone on the next slash. 

“I think it’s a waste burying them, because it’s way more fun to watch,” Xaldin admitted, crossing his arms as he raised an eyebrow at the rough scratching sound. “You’ve hit something, flower. Rock bottom wasn’t very far for you, huh?”

“Can we actually help?” Luxord asked, peering into the hole curiously, “It really does seem you’re just digging a hole there, lad. I could help dig a bit.”

“I’ll be happy to watch.” Xaldin shrugged. 

“We’re Empaths, even if something seems hidden or blocked up, nothing can actually hide from us in here,” Marluxia paused before his nose wrinkled, amending, “Other than weird little music snoops that were made for it by stronger Empaths, I guess. But that’s soooo more an exception than the rule. I don’t literally need to be in someone’s face to know what’s happening.”

Huffing, Marluxia looked up and theatrically gestured an arm out. “Be my guest, gravedigger, unless you’ve got any brighter ideas. There’s two places in here. The flowers and the muck. I think it’d be a little obvious if Lauriam was just frolicking in the fields, so down we go.”

“You lot make it real unrewarding for a fella to be friendly,” Luxord pouted, putting away his flask and skidding into the hole, “You need help pulling the top off?”

“It’s noooot gonna be this easy,” Xaldin frowned, “It wasn’t even this easy for the fucks who didn’t have actual Nobodies to deal with. There’s gotta be more to it.”

“Or maybe there isn’t! And everyone’s just overthinking things.” Marluxia scowled as he got back to work, uncovering more graves. Most just stone spikes--sand burials. Unmarked and unremembered, suited for those without a pretty paycheck to buy their memories for the future. This wasn’t true of all sand burials, but there was a certain sense from these ones, that these were indicative of people who died alone. Unloved and forgotten and dismissed by a world that had been quick to do so once they were no longer taking up physical space. No longer being useful. 

“Just like we’re probably overthinking this whole fucking process,” Marluxia spat, his slashes getting more aggressive, “Because there’s nothing. Fucking. Here.”

“...eh?” Luxord said, peeking up from where he had been gamely, but ineffectively, trying to pull up some sand, “Don’t tell me it’s in a different part of your world after all.”

“Nah,” Xaldin said, giving Marluxia a look that should have been amused. But it wasn’t. There was just something slightly pitying in it, as he said, “Flower here thinks he’s been a weed all along.”

“...what?” Luxord frowned, hopping back up into the field, brushing some of the sand off, “Come on, fellas, I am not drunk enough for this. Can someone talk plainly?”

“He doesn’t think he’s a Nobody,” Xaldin said.

“Oh…” Luxord looked down at the pile of mashed together bodies, “...really??”

Marluxia scoffed, but there was something more angry in it, less haughty and dismissive. “What, you think every single one of us is really a sweetheart deep down inside? Just look at Tengan for proof that being an Empath doesn’t automatically make you a sensitive soul who could neeever torture someone of their own will. It wasn’t even hard to come up with this method, and would you look at that, Ienzo’s sweet little subject is grappling with his entire sense of identity!”

“I’ve always been an asshole,” he said flatly, chipping off one of the few labeled mausoleum slabs, “It’s not that deep.”

“Uuuuh…” Luxord said, following Marluxia as he started to do work on the slabs, “......look, I’m not the ‘words’ guy among us.”

“Oh, no, please, I’d love to watch you try.” Xaldin grinned. 

“I’ll admit, you’ve been a brat since I’ve known you,” Luxord said, while Xaldin snorted beside him, “But you were a kid when you got here. And kids are brats. And… I dunno, there were a few years there that you calmed down. When you started acting alright on the outside, as Laurium. Like, no worse than any of us, not all of us are little rays of sunshine like Sora or just entirely unable to phase like Demyx. I’m just saying, I don’t know if it’s right to say you and Lauriam are interchangeable.” 

“Plus, if you really believe that, then what the hell are we doing out here?” Xaldin asked, gesturing to the holes around them. “You must think there’s something here, or you wouldn’t have started this.”

“Sure, because the lush is a perfect judge of character,” Marluxia said flatly, before he paused. Looking at the gouges and fissures in the ground, grotesque stained on an idyllic fantasy. Nothing ‘nice’ was real. It was always built on muck. And muck would always be muck, no matter what surrounded it. 

“...maybe I’m going about this wrong,” Marluxia muttered, before with a wholly over-dramatic whirlwind of petals he teleported himself outside the hole and back onto the field. Seeming to look for something for a moment…before snatching the air. A small tree limb appearing in thin air, before Marluxia smirked. Something dangerous and…not entirely stable in his eyes. 

“I’ll be nice and give you two a heads up to head back to the island. Ooooone~, twoooo~” Marluxia reared his free arm back, lofting his scythe high. 

Xaldin was an expert in a skill that Kaito had once stumbled onto by accident. He knew how to stretch, and shrink, a space. It made Xaldin seem like he could just take a step and suddenly be in front of you, because, well… he could. And more than that, he was entirely willing to enforce that on landscapes that weren’t designed for him.

All that to say, it felt like Luxord had simply blinked, and Xaldin was suddenly next to Marluxia. Hand on his scythe and scowling at him for just a moment, before bringing up a heavy, thick leg and–boom.

“Ah, shit,” Luxord whispered, as the familiar sound of impact– not exclusive to Xaldin, this was something Aeleus had instilled in them actually, that sound of battle–as he kicked Marluxia back, ripping the scythe from his hands as the smaller man was knocked back. “Lads, I don’t suppose I can advocate for calming the fuck down–”

“You’re out of your mind, if you think we’re just gonna sit here and watch you sever from us,” Xaldin said, his grin a grimace, spinning the scythe in clear frustration, “Baby, are you out of your mind?”

“H’oof!” Marluxia’s grunt was guttural as he went reeling back--not strong enough against Xaldin to simply make the blow not land--though he righted himself partway through, scowling as the scythe in Xaldin’s hand disintegrated into pink petals, reforming back in his own hands as he took a readying stance. 

A glare as sharp as the blade was fixed on Xaldin as Marluxia growled, “What, that desperate? To stay together as one big happy family? None of us would’ve ever even tolerated each other if our lives hadn’t turned into shitshows! Maybe I don’t want to stay, huh, Xaldin?! Have you ever considered that?! Or are you really sure that you know me that well that you can’t let go?”

Marluxia’s voice was dripping with venom. A pitcher plant’s poison ready to dissolve its victim whole. “Get out of my fucking head.” 

And as vines shot up to choke out and evict the trespassers, Marluxia running towards Xaldin to force him out, in the physical world, Lauriam broke into a hazy gazed sprint, running out of the tavern.

“Ahhgh! Fu-gh!” 

There was a cracking noise… and Luis woke up. 

“Owwww.” Luis groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat up in the booth, endlessly relieved to see a little rum waiting for him as he immediately reached to sip for it. “Well, that sucked. See, we should have just kept playing!” he called to Dilan, who had practically thrown himself down the stairs and burst out of the tavern. 

Dilan scowled, looking around for familiar pink.

Lauriam seethed as he ran down the defunct little road they lived on. He wasn’t thinking about what on earth he’d do for housing otherwise, since this had been such a genuinely lucky break, he wasn’t thinking about how all the money they’d recently come into which was the only livelihood he had was back at the tavern, he wasn’t thinking about how insanely dangerous it was to go off on his own if he ran into any of the old factory workers. 

The only thing consuming Lauriam’s mind was utter rage and the sense that if everyone was going to insist on doing idiotic things, then he was out. He was done with all this. He was--

(...)

He was suddenly in a headlock, Aqua looking down at him coldly as she just forced him into even more of a pin the more he thrashed. 

“GHH!! NGGG!” Grunting in outrage, Lauriam tried to free himself, and only managed to find it harder and harder to breathe as every one of his limbs was easily pinned. 

Looking up as Dilan approached and as she pacified Lauriam, Aqua demanded, “Just what in hellfire is going on here?!”

“Ah, fuck,” Dilan muttered, though he jogged over, wiping the sweat off his forehead, “Lauriam here had the bright idea to try to sever himself from the island! After all the shit Even’s gone on about the risk of detangling us by this point… could have given himself fucking brain damage, the little… augh.” Dilan scowled, looking away and spitting into the ground. “Fuck.” 

“Ghhrrrr…ggh,” Lauriam gurgled even as his eyelids began to drop. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Aqua exasperatedly huffed, waiting to feel Lauriam go limp. “The hell’d you do, Dilan? You two know the steps of your dance by heart at this point, but you usually know when to back off when he’s particularly thorny.”

“Why’s it gotta be my damn fault!?” Dilan scoffed, twitching as he watched Lauriam starting to choke, “Also, damn it, Aqua, I don’t call him flower just because he’s pretty. Fucking… here.” 

Dilan headed forward, grabbing Lauriam’s legs. “Would you stop choking him out now, we’ll bring him back into the fenced off area. I swear, Terra, you go too far,” Dilan said pointedly, hefting Lauriam up by the legs. “...he was trying to become whole on his own. He and Luis had a sort of fight about if he was even a Nobody in the first place. You wouldn’t believe which side Luis had to argue.”

“The only things that get him this worked up are you or when Riku’s feeling particularly ‘zen’,” Aqua pointed out before sighing, loosening her hold around Lauriam’s neck though she didn’t seem that concerned. What, she wasn’t gonna kill him, was Dilan crazy?

Giving Dilan a small frown--fine, point taken--Aqua looped her arms under Lauriam’s, his head lolling against her chest as he mostly unconsciously gasped for breath, helping Dilan move him. Though, she did look more concerned getting an answer about what was going on. 

“...what? We all agreed to take things slow, do it safely--Ienzo’s been working his tail off to make sure of it. Lauriam’s usually not that…” Aqua trailed off, her gaze flitting worriedly to the man in her grasp, before giving Dilan a tired look. “...someone made a bet with him, didn’t they.”

Aqua sighed before her lips turned down in confusion. “That should be the easiest argument Luis has ever won. Why would Marluxia even think he’s not a Nobody? He and Lauriam are barely alike. I was kinda surprised, even, what Mars ended up like when Laurie made him.”

It had been a mistake to assume that the preteen was another shy, reserved wallflower like their Ienzo, but not one made at random. Lauriam had been quiet, polite. Angry at their situation, sure, but he was right to be, especially since he’d been one of Hayner’s catches. But where Marluxia’s sweetness was always just a ploy, outside of sarcasm, Lauriam could be a genuinely sweet kid. It had been really cute, seeing how gentle he was with Ienzo, only to get completely humiliated into entirely avoiding their youngest for ages when Ienzo had bluntly shut down any attempts he saw as patronizing. But Lauriam hadn’t hardened from that. Only when it had been Marluxia. 

“I think Luis tried to play along a little bit. You know how it is, we’re our worst critics,” Dilan scoffed, “I think he was hoping it’d calm him down. But it just seemed to rev him up more than anything. He is stressed about something… and yeah, okay, I may have egged him on a few days ago. But I didn’t want him to dodge it entirely! I didn’t think there’d be any harm in his getting a little excited for it. He’s been nothing but freaked out about it since Roxas went back to base essence.” 

The two carried him back into the fenced area, kicking the gate closed behind them before shuffling over to the side of the tavern, where some shade was. Dilan huffed. “Let’s put him down here. Geez, Aqua, he’s tough in the mental scapes, he’s a fucking stick out here. Look what you did to his damn neck?” Dilan said, pointing to the bruising that was blossoming on his skin. “You gotta rein it in a bit.”

“He’s been skeptical about this since Riku first brought it up,” Aqua said, “And it probably didn’t help that it was Riku’s idea. But you know how he gets with challenges--he’s going to do something stupid. And, wow, look at that. He’d go through with it on his own time if the rest of us did.”

Setting Lauriam down, Aqua did take a look at his neck…before letting out a long, tired…regretful sigh. Rubbing her eyes a bit. “...yeah. Yeah. Okay.”

Dropping her hand and looking down at Lauriam tiredly, Aqua asked, “...do you think he’ll try to run again?” She looked up at Dilan, concerned, but inquisitive. “He could just be stressed out…or do you think you touched on something in his head that’s pushing to a more do or die moment? Because if he wakes up and tries to cut himself off again, I think we might have a time limit to get Lauriam back.”

“I still don’t understand how it got that bad, that quickly,” Dilan admitted, rubbing his temples, “...go get Ienzo. See if we can do this now. Even is rarely playing around with his warnings: we’ve been linked too long, and for most of our lives. We don’t know what a sudden separation is going to do to us. He said it could just be really bad mental destabilization, or even shit as physical as seizures. We can’t let him risk it.”

“Got it,” Aqua said, nodding and already starting to head off…before she paused. “...if he doesn’t start to wake up so--”

“...hh…un?” Lauriam’s eyelids fluttered. 

“Ah, good.” And with that, she stepped quickly and lightly, heading into the tavern to track down Ienzo.

Dilan watched her run off, before he sighed, pulling in his leg as he stared at Lauriam, a tired look on his face. 

“...you know, it’s not like I want you to go,” Dilan said, watching a small bit of clarity return to Lauriam’s eyes, “I’m gonna miss this. Miss you. Miss this… weird thing we’ve got going on. Let’s be honest, Lauriam’s not gonna be able to keep up with me. Sweet kid.” He chuckled, before looking away. The look on his face aging him years. Bags under his eyes deepening. 

“......I don’t think you’re sticking around for me, I’m not that full of myself. But I’m not going to ignore the shit you’re pulling so I get to keep my thorny little flower either. You know how many talks I’ve been given by fucking everyone, warning me not to take advantage. To not be bad for you?” Dilan said, gripping his hands tight, frustrated, “...I’m not going to prove any of that shit right. I’m not letting you self-destruct just because I like you this way. You’re going to be healthy, Mar. You’ll be happier, once you’re whole again.”

Things came in hazy as Lauriam opened his eyes, seeing the sky and the overhang from the tavern. His growing awareness of the sore ache in his neck was starting to feel important…

(But so were other things.)

“We’re meant to take advantage,” Lauriam mumbled in a rasp, “Fucking hypocrites. Like I’d ever indulge your shit one way.”

Lauriam took a deep breath, as he closed his eyes again, a…not quite defeated yet scowl on his face. “...there’s no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow here. Get ready to brace for supreme disappointment when you’re Dilan again. If there’s any more to you either.”

“I’m a Nobody, flower,” Dilan said, his voice soft. “I’m not Axel, I’m not Isa, I’m not whatever Ienzo’s got going on. I’m a full-blown Nobody that, you know what? Dilan’s horrifically ashamed of. Even just the things he thinks I might have done, eats him up inside, and he doesn’t even know the half of it. He thinks I’m the worst thing that ever existed. He’s ashamed of himself for making me, he’s ashamed of the things I’ve done, and he’ll spend the rest of his life apologizing for things he doesn’t remember doing, and he’ll hate every sign of me he ever sees in himself.”

“We’re not the real deal, flower,” Dilan said sadly. “And when you’re you again? You’ll be repulsed by me too. Just gotta accept it. That’s what’s happening.”

Lauriam went through the effort of bringing up a heavy arm just to flip Dilan off. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

“What is there even to be ashamed of?” he snarled, the sound a little gurgled, though as he opened his eyes the flame was back in them. “We had no choice. And we won. I’ll never give back something I won and I won’t,” his voice squeaked, “be ashamed of anything I had to do to get there. I keep saying it.”

In a sneaky burst of strength, Lauriam pushed himself up, grasping onto Dilan’s collar and getting in his face. “I’m not different, and I’m not your expectations.”

And he punched Dilan in the face. With his mouth. On Dilan’s mouth.

“...well, you’ve kept him occupied, I guess,” Ienzo sighed, catching his breath from running after Aqua. 

“Shit,” Dilan said, dazed. A small graze on his bottom lip that was already starting to bleed lightly where Lauriam had bitten him, licking the copper sting a bit, “You have terrible timing, ‘Nzy.” He licked his bottom lip again, before saying, “Could you just fuck off somewhere for, like, twenty minutes, kid?”

“Ew. No, he can’t!” Demyx pouted, he and Axel having followed behind as backup, frowning at the display, “It’s like some sort of emergency, right? Cavalry has arrived!” 

“Geez, what the hell happened?” Axel frowned. “What’s with his neck?”

“Don’t worry about that, he’s fine,” Dilan scoffed, giving the group a dry look, “Long story short, Mar’s trying to speedrun becoming whole by himself and gave himself a cute little panic attack doing it. You all sure you don’t have anything better to do? Flower here needs some sunning~” Dilan smirked.

Axel rolled his eyes. “Aqua said something about trying to sever himself?”

Lauriam scoffed as he pulled away, though it quickly turned into some wheezy coughs as the parade of idiots came bounding in. While sitting up now, he was still just on the ground, though for good measure he flipped the others off as well, something easily accomplished as he coughed. 

As Ienzo was more or less caught up on the situation, Aqua crossing her arms and giving Lauriam a cool look as she nodded confirmation, he gave Lauriam a flat look. “Are you fucking dumb?”

Maybe it was the way it almost sounded like an earnestly genuine question that had Lauriam bristling more, glaring at the others. “I told you I was going to go for it! It’s your own fault you’ve been oh so busy.” Growling a little, he added, “And maybe if that’s so unacceptable I should just leave.”

That got Ienzo’s attention more as he gave Lauriam a plainly concerned look before he got down to business. “Aqua, can you stick here to make sure he doesn’t freak out physically? And…without choking him out, please.” Turning to Dilan next, he asked, “I’m sure you’d normally be enough, but I’d like to ask you to come with us to find Lauriam. Since you saw what happened before, it’d be helpful to know what to avoid.”

“What do you mean, ‘us’?!” Lauriam seethed, glaring at Axel and Demyx, “Just because you’re such an exhibitionist doesn’t mean I want the whole circus in my head!”

Demyx pulled down the lower lid of his left eye and stuck his tongue out at Lauriam, while Axel just sighed, “We’re just going to be assisting, Lauriam. C’mon, man, we want to help you out. You could have really hurt yourself today, none of us are cool with that. Even Luis looked like he could barely swallow his drink when he told us what happened.”

“Oh, very serious then,” Dilan said dryly, “Not a lot can turn that man from his drink.” 

Lauriam glared at them for another moment before smirking. “...well then? Come right inside~ Let’s see if our dear cowards don’t just turn tail and run of their own accord.”

Ienzo sighed as he walked over to the deepest part of the shade, sitting down. “I really hate when you get like this…”

-

Knowing what to expect from Lauriam’s world, Ienzo was already holding his nose when he dropped into the flower fields, though that was even luckier of a precaution than he’d anticipated. Ienzo took in the ripped gouges in the earth like festering wounds with wide eyes before he let out a little sigh. “Guess we know where the panic attack might’ve come from…”

“What do you mean?” Xaldin said, landing behind him before looking around, “The holes? He worked himself up a bit while digging them, yeah.”

“Oof!” Demyx oophed, having landed and, not realizing the landscape would have changed since his last visit, tripped face first into one of said holes, before screaming in shock, scurrying out of it and bumping into Axel’s legs. “The place is covered in corpses! What the hell!” 

“Nngh, the corpse pits, right,” Axel muttered, frowning as he looked around, hefting Demyx up by his armpits, “There’s usually a lot more flowers between us and them.”

Ienzo nodded a bit. “Usually, we don’t see them at all in here, because they’re underground. Usually, the ground just swallowed people being conditioned, like quicksand. Amorphous, organic…” Ienzo let out a slightly exasperated sigh. “Marluxia was literally ripping into his mind. I don’t think he was about to lobotomize himself like this, but as we’re well aware, panic is a normal response to pain.”

“Citation fucking needed,” a grouchy, tired voice demanded. Marluxia trudged up to the group, looking…tired. Passing out from being choked would do that to you.

Ienzo blinked before shrugging, sharing through intent the quick, surface level scan he’d done on Lauriam’s mind just entering it. 

“I think by this point Ienzo IS the citation,” Demyx defended, giving the pits more wary looks. He had known in theory how Marluxia’s conditioning worked. He had never actually seen beneath the grass himself. Yikes!

“Sooooo,” Xaldin frowned, looking at the holes with new concern, “...do we fill ‘em up again? If this is hurting him, we shouldn’t just leave them, right?”

“You know, there’s a way to heal other Empaths with your own, like… energy or something, right?” Axel said, “I can’t expand enough to do it, but maybe one of you guys can?”

“Oh, I’ll give it a shot!” Demyx said, flicking his hand out, his sitar forming from water droplets dewing on the flowers, as he flicked the chords and hummed, closing his eyes. One of the older Empaths had done this for him once, which was why he had volunteered. He remembered what it had felt like, he just had to… to…

He expanded and expanded and– {OW!!}

He retracted, wincing with his whole body, the music on his strings giving an unpleasant TWANG. “Okay, word to the wise! If you’re trying to heal something hurt, it means you have to feel it first! Not fun! Sorry, give me a second, I’ll try again.”

“Heheh.” Xaldin laughed, because he couldn’t help himself. Funny.

While Marluxia glared at Demyx, it was Ienzo who shook his head. “As much as I appreciate being trusted and taken seriously, I’d advise against you guys always just going along with what I say. I’m always happy to share my thought process, or the methods or research I use, and it’s a better way to grow your own understanding of a topic rather than just accepting my own synthesis.”

“Ugh, maybe I will next time just to get you to shut up,” Marluxia scoffed, though even with the current situation, the two of them couldn’t help smirking a little at Ienzo’s dry ‘never’. 

But, well, there was a current situation. 

Giving Demyx a softer look, Ienzo said, “I won’t stop you, and I think it’s a good idea in the long run, but I think for the most part we should save our energy for…whatever we might need to find Lauriam.”

“So what’s that going to entail, if you’re so practiced at this by now?” Marluxia grumbled. 

“I believe we need to find a concept or memory that Lauriam is attached to or hung up on,” Ienzo theorized, before looking around the torn fields in consideration. “...you’ve always had a rather strong affinity for flowers, considering where we live, but…that might be too surface.”

“He seems to have an affinity for big, monstrous, Luxord-eating plants,” Luxord groaned, stepping into the world but swaying a bit as he landed on the grass, “Eesh… how far h’af we gotten then, eh?”

“Are you serious, you old fart? Get out of here, go back to drinking, you’re in no state to help.” Xaldin scoffed. 

“Our wee lad Mar needs us, h’ow am I not gunna come?” Luxord said, each word a little breathy, his nose swelling a little red as he blearily looked around. “Plus, I gutta punch that plant in its man-eating nose. ‘M ready for it now! Put-em-up!” he declared, putting up his fists and glaring at the flowers, “...which one of ‘em is gonna do it then, eh?”

“Luxord, it’s been maybe twenty minutes since I saw you, you were fine! How much did you have!?” Axel sputtered. 

“A right and fine amount, now focus, we gotta help our little lad,” Luxord huffed.

“Luxord, it’s admirable that you want to help, but I have doubts that an increased state of inebriation wi--phhm!” Ienzo startled with an offended look as Marluxia put a hand over his mouth, patting his shoulder sweetly before giving Luxord a dry look. 

“No worries, I can keep him occupied if you’ve mistaken my mind for Lexeaus or Xaldin’s.” Following Marluxia’s outstretched hand, roses started to rapidly grow, pointing their thorns in to wrap around Luxord and keep him in place. 

Xaldin laughed a little harder. He couldn’t help it! Look at his face! “You alright there, Luxord?” He grinned. 

“Ah, shite!” Luxord scowled, trying to kick the roses off, but quickly becoming immobile as the sheer volume of plants wrapped around his legs and up his knees, Luxord trying to kick again before he winced. “Ah, shit, shit, oooooh that stings, it bit me, it got me.”

“This whole thing is already a mess and we only just started,” Axel groaned, rubbing his face, “Look, if we’re putting out suggestions? Where’s the last place any of us saw Lauriam?”

“....what?” Demyx asked, for once giving Axel an incredulous look.

“Before the Somebodies all got entirely lost to the Nobodies! Which wasn’t that long ago, if anyone’s forgotten,” Axel sighed, “Someone must have visited Lauriam, talked to him, in here at some point before the big takeover happened. Isa was put in a room to keep him safe, so was Ienzo toooo a different extent. I didn’t have a Nobody, Demyx, you were in the water, which is like your happy place. Sora with his glass… where the Somebodies wanted to spend time before getting lost has to have something to do with it. Where was Lauriam happiest? Where did we see him hang out?”

“Man, you’re looking at it,” Xaldin said, looking around the field, “He liked his flowers.”

Ienzo could only sigh. “We’ll heal you too after this, Luxord, if Marluxia actually manages to hurt you.”

Marluxia bristled a bit--what do you mean ‘actually manages’?! He could kick everyone’s asses right here right now if he wanted to!--before giving the group an exaggeratedly shocked look. “Woooow, so you’re saying that, gasp! If Lauriam was going to be around here, it’d be right here? Nooooooo, what?!”

Ienzo shook his head a little before looking around the field. He…did have a point, earlier, noting that it was strange how much Lauriam not only liked flowers, but knew about them considering they lived in a desert. Sure, people did have gardens, and there was some farmland in Luminary, but for the majority of places people lived, there wasn’t much variety. Lauriam could’ve been rich enough to live somewhere where a garden could be maintained, but what he had alluded to about his life before the factory didn’t match that, so…

Crouching, Ienzo pointed to some wispy purple blooms, looking up at Marluxia. “What kind of flower is this, Marluxia?”

Raising an eyebrow--where was Ienzo going with this…?--Marluxia came over to see what Ienzo meant. “Oh, cornflowers, though before you start jumping to conclusions, no, they’re not the flowering form of corn, don’t ask me where they got the name. If you ever felt like unplugging your nose, they smell like peaches.”

Demyx, who was always down to ‘yes, and’ Ienzo, glanced around the fields before pointing to little puffy orange flowers. “How about these!? What are these?”

“Demyx, those are marigolds,” Axel said dryly, not picking up what Demyx was doing, “How do you not know that, those things are everywhere. I’ve seen one grow in a crack of a concrete floor indoors, before. I even saw one of the supervisors trail one in on their boots before. They’re basically weeds.”

Marluxia scoffed a little. “You know the difference between weeds and flowers, Axel? What people decide are pretty. People curse clover taking over their manicured lawns, but see some morning glory climbing over a door and it’s poetic aesthetic.” He wrinkled his nose a little, before grinning sharply. “‘Weeds’ are nature’s first strike back. In any barren, polluted space, whether its dry dirt, concrete, or foreign grass soaked in pest-killer, ‘weeds’ will fight their way in and make the area suitable for more delicate native plants later on.”

Ienzo nodded thoughtfully, taking that in. “They’re part of a healing cycle.”

“Well, can they heal me?” Luxord grumbled, staying very, very still in his tightly wound rose bush, “I could use some weeds to strangle this lot.”

“...if that’s how you feel about weeds, flower,” Xaldin said, looking down at the field, “That they’re the first part of healing? Maybe we ought to be following some ‘weeds’. What other flowers around here are weeds?”

“What are we going to do, follow their roots?” Axel said dryly, before pausing, “...wait that might be it.”

“If you’re interested in seeing more skeletons, sure,” Marluxia scoffed, unconvinced, though he did still look around. After a moment, he pointed some plants out.

“Knotweed,” a taller plant with large, triangular leaves, “Plantago,” flowers with long pepper-like centers and little beads of puffball seeds surrounding them, “Bindweed,” pale purple round flowers with white veins, “Wild Madder,” delicate cross-shaped white flowers growing in little clusters. 

Going over to the knotweed himself, Marluxia dug his fingers into the dirt, pulling up a mound with all the roots within it…and a skull dangling from the lowest. Unsurprised…until a wisp of a memory played out, a glimpse seeing some knotweed growing in front of a door, battered unthinkingly aside as someone walked through. 

Luxord shivered. “H’eeey, the roses got tighter. ‘S feels unfair, I dinnae do nothing.” 

“Yes! I’ve always wanted to solve a puzzle using Luxord’s pain levels as a guide,” Xaldin laughed, crossing his arms as he grinned menacingly, “We’re on the right track!” 

“See, this is why I don’t hang out with you when you’re not pretending to be Dilan,” Demyx said dryly, before he went to go take a closer look at Marluxia’s find… and grimaced, stepping back, “Nope, nope. Too grim! Someone else do it.”

“Come on, I’ll do it,” Axel sighed, heading over to Marluxia, “Mind if I hold your weed skull thing? I’m going to see if I can’t try to follow it. That’s kind of what the Ouma did for me, when he showed me the Ruby.”

Ienzo tapped his chin, thinking. Marluxia was surprised…but likely just because of a memory playing out at all. He’d likely thought that nothing would happen. But Ienzo thought it was just a matter of course. Some of the flowers here could be made up, but considering that Marluxia at least knew the names of some, some had to be real, and thus Lauriam had to have learned about them at some point. And that moment of discovery was a memory. This entire space was memories. 

Maybe it was just a matter of finding the right one. 

“Knock yourself out,” Marluxia said dryly, handing the collection of roots, dirt, and viscera over to Axel.

“Marluxia, do…you have a favorite flower?” Ienzo sounded a little baffled to ask, like he felt as if he should’ve known, considering that, well. Marluxia was their flower guy. If he had a favorite, then that should’ve come up ages ago, right?

But Marluxia just huffed. “No. Some are nicer than others, I guess, but I like most flowers equally.”

Axel frowned, looking over the knotweed, before draping it over his arm as he held the skull, looking over it. There were lots of bodies around here, of course. Part of Marluxia’s aesthetic, and despite Demyx’s discomfort, not much more disturbing than the sort of decorations some people used for masquerades. But… 

He tried to focus on the skull. He was mostly trying to help so it wasn’t all on Ienzo, but man, he was not a strong Empath. He could sort of get a sense it was a little different, but, well, the skull was just… a skull–wait.

Axel frowned, noticing something as he stared into the skull’s eyes. Bringing it up to his eyes, he peered inside the sockets. “...what kind of flower is this?” he asked Marluxia, gesturing into the skull. A flower twisted and hidden away inside. “It feels different.”

Again, Marluxia looked surprised before he peered inside the skull. He’d thought the plants and muck were pretty well separated, other than the fact that roots went into the ground and that’s where the bones were. As he saw what Axel meant, though, Marluxia started laughing. 

It…wasn’t a friendly sound. 

“Enchanter’s Nightshade,” he said, identifying the spindly white flower with yellow stamen, snorting a cruel laugh before giving the others a dark look. “I don’t know if it ever came up… Did you know that I’ve actually literally killed someone before?”

Everyone stared silently at Marluxia… before Xaldin grinned, chuckling, “I’m so mad I haven’t heard about this yet.” 

Axel looked away warily, holding the skull to his chest. “Oh yeah?”

Murder was far, far more common in Luminary than it was in most of the world, during relatively peaceful times. It was illegal, yes, but it was an understood risk of living in the desert. People in Luminary were just, when it came down to it, a little more desperate for resources than most parts of the world, and were a little more accepting to the harsh realities of what getting to the next month could mean sometimes. 

Axel, as a former yakuza? His hands weren’t clean either… but that’s why he hesitated to ask Marluxia about it. Because he understood just as well as anyone that while murder was more understood in Luminary, that didn’t make it any more socially acceptable. People treated you differently, not only when you killed someone, but how you talked about it afterwards. Why you did it. Suddenly, all of the dangers they were aware of, the cautions they had to take? Were because of you. And it was rare to be in an environment where that felt like a good thing. 

And already he noticed Demyx stiffening in discomfort, as he stammered out, “O-oh? Really! Wild! Um… how?”

Ienzo just stared at Marluxia for a moment, but if Marluxia noticed the silence, the tension, he didn’t act like it mattered. Snickering, Marluxia knocked on the skull in Axel’s hands. “Mind showing us, sweetheart? Pretty please?”

-

“Ooph, ugh… Clyde, get that brat!”

It was a house, clearly, but dark. It was hard to see exactly what was going on, but the harsh sounds and clatter around were pretty distinctly the sounds of a fight. The vision of the memory jittered, moving around wildly, trying to chase something, just turning a corner before--

There was a preteen Lauriam, teeth bared and eyes looking feral as he shoved a trowel into the point of view’s chest, shoving with all his might even as blood splattered back on him until the body fell to the floor, clutching the gushing wound. Watching the teen run off, opening his mouth to call out--

-

Marluxia smirked, eyes dark and clearly enjoying the memory.

“Nice~” Xaldin said appreciatively, “Very cute.”

Demyx shivered, taking a step back from Marluxia. “Nngh, gruesome… you really did that?”

Axel, though, frowned, tilting his head as he looked over that memory. “...you were young. You couldn’t have been any older than… well, I guess 12, thinking about it.”

“12 exactly,” Luxord called out, having been staring warily as the rose vines slowly and tightly crawled up to his torso, “I was one of the first to see Lauriam when he was brought in. It’s the same damn outfit. Poor little lad, shaking like a leaf…”

“He didn’t look shaken in that memory,” Demyx grumbled. 

Marluxia huffed in approval before scoffing. “Well done, detectives. Yeah, that was the night Hayner and his dumbass crew got me. Obviously it was a short-lived victory.” Marluxia glared at the skull. “Should’ve taken more of them out. Trowels aren’t exactly the best range for people bigger than you, though.”

Politely, Ienzo didn’t point out the possible connection to why Marluxia’s scythe was so damn huge, then. 

Frowning, Ienzo thought things through for a moment. “...you were pretty out of it, at least, when they brought you in. That…does make sense for killing someone for the first time.” He glanced up at Marluxia. “...right?”

Marluxia gave him a ‘come on’ look. “‘Enzy, I can be just fine killing one of the monsters that enslaved us without being a teenage serial killer, seriously. I’d never even really used a weapon before that, I just liked messing with people.”

Ienzo gave him a grim, though sympathetic look. “...enough to get found out?”

Marluxia looked away, gritting his teeth.

Xaldin chuckled lightly. Now those stories he had heard about. Though… “Don’t let his dark and mysterious aura fool you. They were pranks, nothing more or less. I did similar things at his age… and by I, I mean Dilan. Like, that level of harmless.”

“Oh yeah, I forget that some of us recognized our powers before the factory told us about them,” Demyx said, crossing his arms, “Empath abilities are just so… mild. When you don’t know what you’re doing with them. I always thought I was just great at lucid dreaming. It never occurred to me to even try to reach into other people’s minds.”

“I didn’t even have that,” Axel shrugged, “No idea until the factory. Then suddenly had to learn real quick.”

“I knew,” Luxord sniffed, drunkenly looking down at the roses. 

(That was the only thing he had to say about it. Luis had gone to the factory in his early twenties, like most of the Empaths had. But while he was fine talking about his life before the factory, he had never spoken to anyone about how he had actually ended up there. Most everyone agreed it had probably been a Demyx situation: debt that had gotten out of hand, and the gambler just didn’t like talking about it.)

Xaldin looked around, before saying, “I feel like we’re onto something with the flowers. I’m going to pull another weed, see what happens. Which ones had you pointed out…” He reached for one of the flowers Marluxia had pointed to, grasping it hard and pulling it out of the dirt. 

Ienzo felt like it was obvious, but he still pointed out, “I was well aware, though I didn’t know what Empathy was on a grand scheme. I think I knew that other people couldn’t store information the way I did, or make your thoughts talk back to you, but it didn’t strike me as something mystical either. It just made sense to me.”

“Oh to have the ego of a first-grader,” Marluxia snickered.

Though, as Xaldin snapped some of the flowers by their stems and immediate roots, Marluxia scoffed and rolled his eyes in irritation, heading over to him. “Such a brute~ I know the concept is foreign to you, but flowers need a more considerate touch, Xaldin. What’s above the ground is only half the picture.”

Putting his hands around Xaldin’s, he--forcibly--guided the older Nobody’s fingers into the dirt, far wider around the base of the Wild Madder until they pulled out a hefty root system, another skull dangling from the bottom. And maybe it was because they’d already gotten it started before, but this time a memory started to play automatically. 

First, some wild madder swaying by the side of a small fountain, but then--

-

“A-Aaron get off, what are you d-doing?!”

“Shh, you’ll like it. You should be flattered, cutie, just accept it…”

There were still alleys in royal districts, and this seemed to be one of them, by how suspiciously well-maintained all the stone in the ground was. And the fact that the ground was stone at all and not just packed dirt. Though that seemed to be far less of a focus as the two men in it. One of them feeling the other up and clearly getting ready for…well…it was obvious. And the other baffled, and slowly starting to panic as it started to dawn on him that his friend wasn’t just joking. If that wasn’t more obvious by the fact that he’d let go of--

Closer in sound, there was some uneven, frightened breathing, then, quietly, a young Lauriam’s voice, “It’s okay, they’ll be busy, let’s just go. Like I’d ever let some losers like that touch my s--”

-

Marluxia seemed…less pleased with this memory. Glaring at the skull but the tense draw of his shoulders…uneasy.

Xaldin tsked at that memory, frowning in distaste. “Man, I wish more of the people I had to condition had been fuckers like that. I could have had so much more fun with it.”

“Do you…” Demyx frowned, considering the memory, “...have a sister, Mar? I’ve been thinking a lot about trying to reach out to my family again, is there someone we should be looking for for you too?”

“No,” Marluxia said tensely, bristling a bit at Demyx before all at once giving a haughty huff, picking some of the dirt out from his nails. “You’re running out of time for that, you realize? If I even had anyone to contact, I would’ve done it ages ago, way before we were looking to leave the country at any moment.”

Ienzo just looked at Marluxia for a moment. 

…a sister, huh? And…it had sounded like there was more of a fight in that first memory than just what Lauriam had been doing…

Looking around the field, Ienzo looked for weeds. Something strong, healing, something that Lauriam felt was important…

Crouching, Ienzo dug his free hand into the dirt around a dandelion, but it seemed he’d barely touched a root before--

Marluxia’s pupils suddenly shrank into dots, and with petals that were there and gone in seconds, there was killing intent as he swung at Ienzo.

“Yeah, I know,” Demyx said uncomfortably, looking away, “I’ve just only ‘cared’ recently. Larxene never even thought about it.”

Axel had the same thought as Ienzo, looking around for more weeds. That was why he didn’t notice anything was wrong until Luxord groaned in pain, the thorns suddenly getting longer–

Xaldin did that short, quick step again, this time wrapping his arms around Marluxia and jerking him backwards as he shouted, “How many times are you going to make me kick your ass today, flower?!”

Marluxia barely even considered Xaldin this time, though, eyes wild as he struggled in his grip, focused on Ienzo. “DON’T TOUCH THAT!!” he growled, looking more similar to the memory of his first kill than anything.

And, well, if that wasn’t a sign then Ienzo didn’t know what could possibly be clearer.

Ienzo pulled the dandelion. But this time, instead of one memory, it was thousands. Twelve years of memories. 

-

“People call these weeds, but they don’t know what they’re talking about. These are my favorite flowers, La-La, they make it so new flowers can grow anywhere they’ve been. And you know how they spread their seeds?”

A young, female voice giggled as she blew, a flurry of white fluffs scattering to the wind.

“Through wishes.”

-

“So strong you think you’re already grown, huh?” a girl sighed, cleaning cuts on a young boy’s face, his thick pink hair fluffing out like a dandelion. “There’s always bigger fish in the pond, La-La, don’t be stupid.”

“They were being stupid, I couldn’t just do nothing, S--” Lauriam protested, even as he winced at the burn of rubbing alcohol. “Besides, I know that. You’re waaaaaay stronger than me.”

A giggle. “Well, as long as you remember that. Atua protect us, what am I gonna do with you, my little hero?”

-

“Lauriam, it’ll be okay,” a girl whispered, holding a boy in her arms as they huddled in the corner of a bed in a dark room. “It’s a few months, Mom will be back soon. We’ll be just fine, okay?”

A soft kiss on a forehead, though her eyes were determined in the dark. “I’ll take care of you, no matter what. I’m your s----- after all.”

-

“Rich people are the woooooorst,” a young woman groaned, splayed over a worn couch, her uniform-like overalls dusted with dirt and covered in grass stains. “All the money in the world to make their own personal oasis and it’s a shock if they spend more than an hour a week in it. But nooooo, no one else is allowed in to enjoy it…uggggh.”

“Rough day?” a preteen snorted, coming by with a cold drink to pass to her, gratefully accepted as she ruffled his hair. 

“It’s just frustrating. It’s like they want everything they have just to have it, just so no one else has it. It doesn’t matter if it’s even something they like… They’d be better off as fertilizer to grow the garden more, at least then they’d actually help someone else out for once.”

The boy burst out laughing. “Biggest mistake to arm you with a shovel, then.”

“Damn straight,” she snickered, throwing an arm around him.

-

“Well well well, I didn’t think flowers could walk, but I think the prettiest one in the garden’s made it out of the gate. What do you think, Aaron?”

The woman stared past the men as she stood tall, though her hands were folded at her waist, like a proper servant. “I’m on my way home, Lord Radcliffe, my shift is over for the day. If you’ll pardon me…”

“Oh, so cold, Gardener~ C’mon, you know you’re wasted working under the sun all day, why don’t you come inside and unwind with us for a while? It’ll be fun, I promise.”

-

“STOP!! HELP!!”

-

Vision had gone red.

-

“Good evening, Miss…is Belrose right?”

The woman’s expression remained cold. “How can I help you, sirs?”

“Right to the point,” Hayner smiled politely, an emblem shaped like moons dangling from his neck, “Well, we were notified that I believe your…brother? Maybe? Made quite a few ripples the other day, and we’d just like to speak with him.”

“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’ll excuse me, I have work in the morning, so--”

Hayner caught the door as the woman tried to close it, his smile not wavering. “Ah, too bad, I was hoping to do this quietly. Get the boy, men.”

“LAURIAM, RUN!!”

-

A man had a trowel plunged into his chest.

-

A preteen stopped quickly, eyes wide and horrified.

“There we go, seems you’re not totally beyond reason~” Hayner smiled, a woman with a knife to her throat in the arms of a different burly man, standing amid the bodies on the floor. “Drop the weapon, boy.”

The trowel dropped from Lauriam’s hand.

“Lauriam, don’t!” the woman called, gasping softly as the knife was pressed harder to her throat, blood starting to bead on the blade. 

“Looks like you know just who to listen to, here. Come with us, and she goes free, alright? Simple.”

Lauriam desperately looked at the woman, her eyes begging him NO, but he nodded weakly. “...okay. O-okay, just…let her go.”

“Good boy.”

Hayner put a hand on Lauriam’s shoulder, guiding him out of the house. The burly man waited until they’d passed the door before shoving the woman to the ground and following. They’d only made it a few steps before running came up behind them. 

The woman’s strawberry blonde hair waved wild in the wind as she yelled out, brandishing a shovel high to--

A knife went into her throat.

Lauriam jerked in Hayner’s grasp, screaming, “S---!”

-

Marluxia screamed, “STRELITZIA!!!”

That was a lot of info all at once. And, honestly? No one in there was quite… prepared. To handle 12 years of sudden memories, all crescendoing into a type of true, terrible anguish. 

Their minds did what Empath minds did when confronted with that level of sudden input, without having trained for it or prepared any constructs to handle the load. They very, very quickly started to reject and delete it, as fast as they could. Painfully. Like their brains were on fire. 

“FUCK!” Axel shouted, crashing to his knees and cradling his head, “Oh, DAMMIT!”

Demyx burst into tears. Though why he burst into tears was a little confusing to him, purging faster than the others as he tried to recall something about… a sister? Not his sister, right? No, he didn’t have a sister… ooooooh….

Luxord, maybe to his benefit, was very distracted from the massive memory dump by the roses squuueeezzzing him so tightly he couldn’t even shout out. 

And Xaldin swayed slightly, his eyes spotting as a massive migraine ran through his head, dizzying him as he took in the mix-match of memories he managed to retain, a sunset woman meeting a terrible, not very funny fate… before he grit his teeth and held onto Marluxia.

Don’t let go. He wasn’t sure why, his brain was blasted into disorientation. But Xaldin knew that. Don’t let go.

Ienzo dropped the dandelion, bracing both hands on the ground as his vision whirled, though that wasn’t very bracing as an assault of festering rot flooded into his nose, causing him to choke and gag. It didn’t at all help the clenching of his heart (Ienzo never deleted information. But Zexion was trying very hard to stow the cascade of new books in the library as quickly as he could), wanting to add sobs to his reaction. 

Especially since there was this sense of…

Your fault your fault your fault

Which was normal for Marluxia’s skeletons. But this one was more like…

Your fault your fault your fault she died she’s dead because of you, Lauriam, you brought Togami to your house you were always getting into fights and making enemies, she always did tell you you’d get into something you couldn’t charm your way out of and now she’s dead and it’s your fault you should’ve just let her be--

“WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!” Marluxia screamed as he thrashed in Xaldin’s arms. Face hot and expression snarling and desperate. “THEY WERE GOING TO RAPE HER!”

At least then she wouldn’t be dead.

“Th… fuck,” Xaldin grit his teeth, holding tighter, “They were going to rape her.” He agreed. “What else could you have done?”

“Ow, ow, ow,” Demyx groaned, “Are our noses supposed to be able to bleed here? That’s a new one for me.”

Oh please don’t throw up… As quickly as he could, Ienzo plugged his nose again, hacking to get the scent out of his head, but he still looked up at Marluxia as he shuddered. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said quieter, “It was Hayner and all of those monsters at the factory. You didn’t kill her.”

Ienzo closed his eyes for a moment, gagging again as Zexion pointed out a more specific part of the memories, easier to take in when curated. “...they did let her go. I doubt things would’ve been okay with her knowing that they took you, but…she came back after you because she loved you, Marluxia. That isn’t your fault.”

Catching more of his breath, Ienzo looked down…and saw a little hole in the ground, from where the dandelion’s skeleton was coming out of. Something bright, and clear on the other side. 

“Course it isn’t your fault,” Axel grumbled, clutching at his stomach. Ienzo wasn’t the only one who felt like throwing up. “Being forced to react doesn’t mean you’re responsible for the fight. It’d have been worse if you turned your back, no one can blame you for protecting someone!”

Luxord groaned… before suddenly sighing in relief. Realizing he could step through the vines now, Marluxia’s brain properly distracted from where it was holding him. “Nnngh,” he groaned, looking down at his body. That was a lot of scratches… but he, out of everyone, seemed actually the most stable. Able to not just stay on his feet, but wobble over, his drunken, bleary gaze uncomfortable but not struggling to function like everyone else's was, as he glanced at the thrashing Marluxia, then looked to Ienzo for some guidance… and then followed his gaze.

“...a’right,” Luxord muttered, heading over to the hole. “Ol’ Lui, last one on his feet again. ‘Swear, none of you know how to take your liquor or your tragedies. Les’see…” he muttered, kneeling down and starting to dig the light out. 

And then he tilted forward as the ground opened up beneath him, just muttering a little “Oh, shite,” before falling in. 

“Fuck,” Ienzo grunted, moving towards Luxord…before another heave shuddered through him, stalling him for a moment. 

Where Luxord fell wasn’t a flower field or decaying muck. 

It was…pretty barren, actually. More barren than the actual desert. 

There were two graves. One read:

Strelitzia Belrose

Beloved Sister

While the other you couldn’t read at all, because a man in his mid 20s with fluffed out pink hair like a dandelion was sitting in front of it. His eyes closed as he leaned against Strelitzia’s gravestone, a bloodied trowel in his hands that he clutched to blood-covered clothes. 

Luxord landed on his face, cursing through a mouthful of dirt and spitting out a dandelion as he straightened up, the little seeds of it floating away far more elegantly than they had any right to from having just been coughed out of a drunken man's mouth. Luxord looked up from where he had fallen, which was so high above that he only saw a distant, circular light in an otherwise sea of brownish-darkness. Then he looked around, where caked dirt cracked so far out in every direction that it too eventually just became a sort of brown-black in the horizon. 

Luxord sniffed, before looking to… well, of course it was Lauriam, wasn’t it. 

Luxord sighed, standing up and brushing some of the red dust off his pants, before rubbing at his face, slapping his cheeks a bit as he murmured, “Alright, pull it together. He needs you and you’re the only one here,” before walking over. 

He gave the other grave a glance–poor lass–before focusing on the man. Squatting down, he gave him a sad look. “Ah, Laurie… everyone knew you had gone through something when you arrived. You had looked like a kid pulled from a war zone. Me and the others used to worry about it, but… you were a sweet kid. I always hoped maybe whatever it was hadn’t been so bad. Never could convince you to talk about it.”

Sighing as he sat down, he looked to the item that Lauriam was clutching to himself, before glancing at the grave. A sandgrave. He was probably right. That was probably where she had ended up. It was probably too optimistic to say she had ever gotten the grave marker. 

Silence was a measure of respect, for the dead. But it was also respect for those grieving them. Silence and listening, as Luxord gently patted Lauriam’s leg. “You’ve held your silence too long, lad. It’s not respectful to forget the dead. Tell me something about your sister, Lauriam.”

(“Throw him in the hole,” Ienzo coughed.)

“She was a badass,” Lauriam’s voice answered quietly, though not from the man leaning on the grave. His eyes and mouth all remained shut. 

Instead, Marluxia looked at Lauriam like he couldn’t really believe it, the graves around him regarded more warily. 

“I think she could even beat Aeleus in arm-wrestling if she really wanted to. Strong in her own right, but she was always good at finding the perfect thing that would give. I never thought there’d ever be a fight she’d lose.”

“Saints high, are you serious?” Luxord said, looking over his shoulder at Marluxia, seemingly unsurprised to see him as he gestured for him to sit down with him, observing the graves. Waving his flask at him, he said, “Share a drink with me and tell me more. What was her fighting style? She specialize in anything in particular?”

Marluxia snorted lowly as he walked forward, hesitating a second before sitting in front of Lauriam, accepting the flask and taking a swig. Luxord was right, it was kind of weird that it was wine, but Marluxia didn’t really care. “Bare-knuckle brawling?” he smirked, “Or whatever you’d call ending the schoolyard fights your dumbass little brother got into, or managing to make a very convincing threat that any hand a guy put on you he’d lose.”

His gaze went heavy as it flitted to Strelitzia’s grave. “She wanted to be a magician, not a fighter. Neither of us really wanted to learn more than the basics with the pocketknives our parents gave us for protection.”

“Ah, a magician!” Luxord said, eyes widening with delight, “You all would have ended up in my neck of the woods! Casinos and stage magicians are close and friendly cousins. I bet I would have loved to have seen her perform.” He laughed, taking a swig from the disappointing wine flask, before sighing, “Bullshit how it all works out instead. We all deserved better. Any particular kinda magic she liked performing most?”

“Ugh, we could’ve only hoped not,” Marluxia scoffed, before giving Luxord a small nudge with a smaller smile. Only teasing. “At least what I know from her, I don’t think there’s any magician that doesn’t have some fondness for slight of hand…but she loved escape acts the most.”

Marluxia huffed a soft laugh as his gaze went fond, a surprisingly soft look for him. “She used to make this deal with me when I was little and being a brat. She’d ask me to tie her up in a rope or handcuff her really weirdly, and she said that I could do whatever I wanted until she got out.”

Marluxia laughed, eyes tearing a little. “It was always, like, minutes. When I’d throw a fit about it, she always said I should’ve done a better job tying her up.”

Luxord chuckled. “That’s a fun trick. If I had been lucky enough to have a little one, I’d hope I’m as clever as that. Can’t argue I didn’t let you have a bowl full of sugar if you lost the bet, fair and square. She sounded like a fun lass. I’m sorry I never got to meet her.”

“...you know, what everyone was saying up in your field,” Luxord said, looking up at the distant, light hole, “Ah, I wish I was better at words. Drunk, sober, I never really know what to say…but they were right. You did the best you could. It’s not your fault you couldn’t see the future. You only had what you knew in front of you to work with. You did the best anyone could ask for, with that.”

“And I couldn’t guess how she’d feel about it,” Luxord said, gesturing to the grave, “...but I bet you could.”

Marluxia grit his teeth, taking a heavy breath. “...I remember thinking, when you all explained what making a Nobody was, and I was getting ready to do it… It’d be easy. I was already a murderer, I already fucked with people’s heads for fun. And nothing ‘good’ we ever did was actually good. If you lose either way, then there’s no point. So might as well go all in so there’s something you can actually win.”

His eyes went red as they flooded with tears, unshed. Marluxia looked at Lauriam. “...but I did help her from something awful. And I…you. Were bound to get caught one day. You were always so cocky. It felt like nothing could touch your Empathy. It…wasn’t your fault that they found you. That they killed Strelitzia. You were trying to protect what you loved.”

“...and she tried to protect what she loved.” Marluxia’s eyes squinted as his voice lowered, looking at Strelitzia’s grave. It was so…barren. He looked down with a swallow, finding a bouquet of yellow and white dandelions in his hands, and…he knew what to do. 

Getting on his knees, Marluxia reached towards Lauriam and took the trowel, replacing it with the bouquet. “Dandelions are for making wishes. Her last wish was that you’d stay alive and free.”

Lauriam opened his eyes, barely noting the flower petals in the wind as he looked at the bouquet in his hands and then gently set it against his sister’s gravestone.

‘Bye, lad,’ Luxord thought, watching the man trade out the flowers for the trowel. Taking a long sip of his wine as the Nobody faded and disappeared, wishing the wine in Lauriam’s mind was as numbing as it was in his own. He knew no harm came to the Nobodies returning to base essence. He knew they still very much lived on, whole…

…but it still hurt to watch another go, even as he grinned warmly and greeted, “Lauriam, lad! Try not to be too startled, we’re still not sure how much anyone will remember: it’s been a year since I last saw you. Glad to have you back.”

Lauriam looked over at Luxord slowly, moving like…yeah. He’d been sitting in the same position for a long time. He stretched his neck a little, wincing. “...we…made it out of the factory, right? I kind of…”

Lauriam suddenly frowned, really taking in the scratches all over Luxord’s body, guilt flitting over his expression. “...shit Luis, I’m sorry, that was me, wasn’t it? Hold on, let me--”

He was cut off as he startled, a light rain starting to pour over the barren landscape. A rain that…made some of the ache and ‘stinging wound’ feel, now that he thought about it, soothed, and the scratches on Luxord’s body started to heal closed. 

Luxord let out a relieved breath. The pain had been consistent enough to become background noise, but it had been noisy background noise all the same. He laughed a little as the scratches faded away, giving Lauriam a warm look, before cautioning, “When we get back up there, maybe give Xaldin a little space. I doubt he’ll admit it, but he’s gonna be a bit sad. Your Nobody’s gone, in case you don’t remember what just happened. You're properly whole.” 

Lauriam stared at the rain with baffled confusion. It was familiar, sort of, but… Demyx? Aqua?

His brows came in a little at Luxord’s warning, though after a moment he nodded. “...it’s coming in. Everything’s a little…confusing, I’ll admit. …Marluxia’s been running the show this whole time, hm?” He gave Luxord a little smile. “Have suggestions for any apologies I should get to first, before the time it takes for me to remember?”

“Don’t apologize to anyone. You’ve spent way too long apologizing for shit that wasn’t your fault already,” Luxord scoffed, standing up and blearily looked down at the graves… before, despite himself, he bowed his head and said, “Atua loves ya. May your trials be swift and easy.”

Then, he looked up at the still very distant circular light above them. “...how the hell do we get out of here?” 

Lauriam’s eyes reddened a bit at the prayer. He wasn’t religious, but…

“...thanks, Luis,” he said quietly to the man, before snorting a softly amused sound. A whirlwind of flowers whisking him away and Luxord being gently deposited on the field above. 

Lauriam stood, a little unsteady on his feet as he turned and looked back on the graves. 

Strelitzia Belrose

Beloved Sister

Lauriam Belrose

Treasured Brother

Lauriam shook his head a little as he put gentle hands on the tops of each stone. He wished he’d gotten to bury her properly, but there was no chance of that now. He just hoped whatever oblivion embraced her soul, or whatever, was peaceful and kind. 

Part of him had felt like he died that day too…but he hadn’t. And he had more family than her that was still alive. 

Lauriam created another bouquet, this time of roses--maybe the most iconic thorned flower--and laid them against the gravestone that now read:

Marluxia Belrose

Treasured Brother and Friend

And with a breath, Lauriam thought it was about time to wake up. 

-

There was always a small adjustment period, after someone was made whole.

For one, with the mix of half-Nobodies/Half-Somebodies in the tavern, figuring out dynamics was a bit of a process. Sora was around and thrilled to see Lauriam again, but ‘Riku’ was a bit stand-offish and uneasy, like he couldn’t remember how he felt about the guy and was opting to just stay quiet instead. ‘Kairi’ tried to be friendly, but seemed mostly interested in making sure his connection to the island was still firm and sending word to the Ouma that another person had been made whole on their watch.

Luis was warm and friendly, seemingly happy to see the lad back. Even was fascinated to discuss what the damage to his psyche had been like when he had been digging holes. Dilan…

Dilan was friendly, but distant. He grinned and greeted Lauriam when he was in the room, but always found some reason to head off somewhere soon after. He was out of the tavern a lot, for the last two days. No one knew where he went, but in truth it probably didn’t matter. He was just ‘out’.

Lauriam had slept a lot that first day, having nearly fallen to the ground still sitting down when he opened his eyes in the physical world. Even with the psychic healing, he’d done a number to himself, and adjusting back into his life after nearly a year skipped was a lot to take in. The second day, he’d practically talked with Even and Ienzo the whole time, answering endless questions, and though Luis had assured him he had nothing to apologize for, he’d still checked in on the others who had been in his mind, knowing, once those memories had reordered themself, that it had been A Lot.

…or, well, he’d tried to check in with everyone. But it seemed like Lauriam didn’t even have a choice to take Luis’ advice or not. 

So that was why Lauriam was sitting right in front of his bedroom, contently working on folding an intricate paper flower. Dilan had to sleep, so he had to come back eventually.

That was true. 

As Dilan came up the stairs, moving carefully in the low light, he stilled when he got near his door, squinting through the darkness… before he scoffed, “Lauriam, is that you? What, trying to give me a heart attack? Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I could ask the same of you, Dilan. Though it does make a little more sense that I’m home in the middle of the night.” Shrugging, Lauriam held up his crafting to one of the mildly lighter parts of the hall. “I’m making paper flowers. Your turn.”

“Hah,” Dilan muttered, rubbing the base of his nose, before chuckling, “Wanna hear something embarrassing? I’m failing to get into fights. Been out there trying to pick fights all day, and wouldn’t you know it? No one feels like fighting. I don’t know if it’s the world’s changed or I’ve changed, I never had this problem when I was a young man. Luminary’s changed since I first got into the factory.”

That was both true and it wasn’t. Dilan had ended up in the factory before the war had started, and was out after it had ended, missing not just the war with Dicea, but also the civil war as well. People were tired. Faith was at an all time low. People weren’t preparing for their trials, they weren’t looking for chances to show off how strong they were, they weren’t dating based on those results. Not at the same passion and fervor that the adults of 20 years ago were. People were tired, and frightened, and weren’t looking for fights.

Also, Dilan had a look to him now. A gleam in his eyes. If you were looking for a fight? It wasn’t with a guy like Dilan. He didn’t have enough to lose.

“What are you making paper flowers for?” Dilan asked, leaning against the wall to peer down at what Lauriam was doing. “You’ve made a lot of them.” 

“Don’t let Demyx hear you’re feeling your age, losing your touch. Still won’t even get a fight out of him. He’ll probably just hide behind whoever’s closest, which right now would be me, and I’m not fighting you either,” Lauriam snorted. “We’ve missed a couple regimes, changes are bound to reflect that.”

Lauriam deftly tucked another fold into the forming flower, completing another petal in it--just as pretty as the small assortment on the ground next to him. He shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of time. They’re for enjoyment--if you can believe it, I like doing art crafts like these when I have the materials. I guess if I was using something other than old receipts and newspapers maybe I could sell some. Couldn’t hurt to make sure our treasure trove isn’t just going to all drain away.”

“Can’t imagine how we’d blow through 700 gold even between all of us, but then, have you seen how much street stall food costs these days? Bastards are out there robbing people, I swear. I could just grill lizards here, the hell am I paying a silver for?” Dilan scoffed, shaking his head. 

“...” Dilan watched Lauriam make his flowers for a bit, before musing, “I heard once Dicea’s got a lot of flowers. You might be in luck. Don’t know how true it is, but someone told me they visited once, and their grass grew up their walls and onto their roofs. So that’s something to look forward to, I suppose.”

“It’s ridiculous,” Lauriam agreed, nodding. “I got Ienzo to make a guess of how much he makes off with when he decides to con college kids, and the number he gave me? We should keep an eye on our little thief, I’ve seen arrest postings for half as much.” It was more ridiculous that bars were even charging that much in the first place though.

Fold, tuck, fold, tuck, fold, tuck, turn…

Lauriam snorted before giving Dilan an amused look. “Could you imagine having to trim your walls or your roof? I really hope that’s true because it sounds incredible to see.”

“Well, we’ll see soon. Just waiting for the logistics to all work itself out, then we’re out of here,” Dilan said, sniffing… before he reached for the doorknob, “Well, it’s late. Goodnight Lauriam, have fun with your paper flowers.”

Without even looking up, Lauriam swung a leg out, bracing his boot on the weird jutting support pillar just past the door, blocking it. Finishing his flower, before leaning back to place it with the others, without moving his leg, before then finally looking up at Dilan. 

Something a little mad, and a little challenging in his gaze. “...I’m not ashamed of you. And Marluxia did tell you not to think your expectations are reality, with us.”

“Tsk,” Dilan clicked his tongue, raising an eyebrow at the leg blocking his way, before glancing at Lauriam with an amused, but admittedly impressed look, “We’ve got to get you better boots. Especially if you’re going to throw them in people's way like this.”

“What expectations?” Dilan asked, though the way he stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets, looking away, belied some of the casualness in the question, “I’ve never had any expectation of you, Lauriam. Me and the flower? We had a… side thing happening. One we both knew was never going to last. He was just trapped with no good options to vent some of that growing need on, and I was the older guy just enough of an asshole to make myself look like an option. Now he’s gone and you have the whole world, Lauriam. There isn’t anything to expect.”

“We could all probably do with some clothes shopping. It is a little dangerous to suddenly go around town looking nice for once, though.” Clara had actually talked over some pointers about that with them, her first visit. Just little things they could do to make it less obvious they had a bunch of money, like splitting up necessity shopping lists between people and shops to make it look like they were only getting what really, really couldn’t be skipped. It had been an interesting conversation. 

Lauriam sighed a little. 

“I know. I remember.” While he didn’t move out of the way of the door, or look away from Dilan, Lauriam did blush a bit. It wasn’t like the others keep insinuating, like Marluxia and Xaldin had been fucking behind every closed door they found, but…well, it had been A Thing. “Though, you know what? Calling yourself ‘the older guy just enough of an asshole to be an option’ sounds quiiite a bit like you making an assumption about Marluxia. And me, since, you know, you’re talking specifically about things that happened before this past year.”

“So why are you avoiding me?” Lauriam asked, the question genuine, but the meaning an accusation. 

“Because, Dandelion,” Dilan scowled, taking another step back. Refusing to look Lauriam in the eyes as he stared down the dark hallway, “You didn’t have options. Now you do. And maybe I want better for you than to still be caught up with flirting with your local sadist. Cause you know Dilan ain’t around right now, right?” 

At that, ‘Dilan’s’ posture seemed to shift. Xaldin leaning against his hip and squaring his shoulders, grinning with a touch of menace down at Lauriam, some of his finely tuned mania bleeding into his eyes as he bared his teeth at him. “It’s just Xaldin here, baby~ Just the asshole who thinks it’s funny to drive you absolutely crazy. Maybe I’m being a damn saint right now, not totally ruining dull ol’ Dilan’s chance to make a good ‘first impression’ since you’ve been back. Give it a few days. I’ll be gone soon too.”

(It did hurt a little. But was…kind of nice in another. Just another thing that felt like that as Lauriam reflected on everything about Xaldin and Dilan, he supposed. But ultimately, being called a pet name that was his sister’s favorite flower was something he’d be proud of.)

(Dandelions were a lot stronger than your average flower.)

“I’m aware,” Lauriam said, crossing his arms and looking more like he was just lounging out against the wall. “I know perfectly well that you’re all Xaldin--the asshole I knew I wasn’t going to lose a friend in when I lost my temper, and the one that could match Marluxia beat for beat with whatever metaphor he was spinning into an insult next, and the guy I was happy to lose my virginity to.”

It wasn’t just Lauriam coming to terms that if he didn’t want to die one, he had to make a choice with limited selection. As…slightly disjointed and embarrassing that memory was, Lauriam genuinely was happy with it. 

Lauriam raised an eyebrow as Xaldin expressed some of his own trepidation at getting Dilan back…

Before a sharp smile glimmered in the dark. Lauriam letting out an excited laugh. 

“Pfff, ha! Marluxia won! Get fucked!”

“....oh, you little shit,” Xaldin snickered, crossing his arms as his posture relaxed, “Of ALL the things you remember, you remember that? Whatever, it’s not like I’m not right behind you. And I’ll still figure out how to be more powerful being whole first, which is going to be way more impressive considering you’ve gotten a head start.” 

Despite what everyone thought, this– this sort of exchange–really had been most of it. There had been a kiss once, years ago, that had jumpstarted all of it. Xaldin hadn’t even realized Laurium–who had still seemed so young at the time, though he was 19 when he had tried it–had just kissed him in what felt like out of nowhere. Xaldin was pretty sure they had been whining about everyone else's horny antics. Making fun of them, before sitting there awkwardly by their own attempt, until Lauriam had sputtered some excuse and left in a hurry.

Lauriam had avoided eye contact for a long time after that… and Xaldin had started flirting. 

Or, Marluxia had avoided eye contact, and Dilan had started flirting. 

It had all been a long time ago. It was tough to say who had started it, and who had continued it. 

And years of overly aggressive flirting had turned into one night of nerves. Of awkwardly trying to figure out how, physically, it was going to work between them, in some random closet they had picked because Xaldin was long enough that he could jam the door shut if anyone tried to walk in with the base of his foot. It had just been the one night, and in truth, it had been both forever ago and not that long ago… and it had been, bizarrely enough, Lauriam and Xaldin. 

Though, Xaldin had thought Lauriam had believed it had been Dilan, this whole time. Maybe it had been both. Nothing about their lives were straightforward. 

But if it was both, it had mostly been Xaldin. Dilan too ashamed to fully invest himself into a night with a man he had watched grow up. Xaldin, like he said, just enough of a bastard to let himself. 

In some ways, having only Marluxia around had been a relief. It was less complicated with him. He was a bastard and so was Xaldin. Lauriam…

“Alright, do you want to talk about this all properly? I’m guessing you didn’t stake out my door to deliver a cute little zinger,” Xaldin sighed, gesturing for Lauriam to join him downstairs, Axel and Isa both sharing their room with them already asleep inside, “We might as well just talk this through. Dilan’s gonna be even more insufferably difficult to talk to about it, might as well make use of me being around while you can.”

“Moving goalposts, are we? Well fine, if you insist on making another, separate bet, because Marluxia completely and utterly destroyed you in the first, sure, I accept.” Lauriam smirked into the dark, nodding his head in an infuriatingly formal bow, despite the rest of his body language. It’d certainly be motivation to get back in the hang of using his abilities himself. 

That was one of the bigger differences, between him and Marluxia. Lauriam sure didn’t enjoy being looked down on, but Marluxia couldn’t stand it. The thought of someone thinking themself superior drove him crazy, so every challenge and bet was something to win, to crush the competition and cement himself as the best. Lauriam liked winning, but the thrill of uncertainty in a competition was more interesting to him. He had to assume that everyone involved in a bet would be trying to win, so that drive to push himself harder, think more inventively, be better to give himself better odds was…exhilarating. Losing wasn’t the end of the world, but you could be sure that he’d do everything he could to win. 

Though, there were some situations where there could be multiple winners. 

“I figured this was the best place to wait that you couldn’t just avoid forever,” Lauriam shrugged, before getting up and collecting his flowers, “And, you know, maybe I should check my own expectations. I really didn’t expect you to be the self-deprecating one. We should talk about this, Xaldin. Marluxia should’ve talked about this too, but…”

A weird, less confident expression wiggled its way onto Lauriam’s face as they headed downstairs. “...well, I guess he sort of is. Sort of.”

“Yeah, he is,” Xaldin said, his footsteps heavy against the wooden stairs, peering through the tavern before sighing, heading to the booth and grabbing Luis’ hair, jerking him up. 

“Aw’gha??” Luis groaned, “Wha’g?”

“Go upstairs, go sleep in your damn bed,” Xaldin told him, hefting Luis up and pushing him to the stairs. The other man blearily mumbling nonsense, but walking up the stairs, having been sleeping long enough to not be too drunk to do so. 

Xaldin watched to make sure he made it to the top anyway, before shaking his head, heading over to the bar. “He makes a guy feel self-conscious about having a midnight snack,” he scoffed, taking out a bottle of rum and pouring himself a shot, placing the bottle down, “And yeah, he is. Look, the others might get nervous about reforming, but I’m not. It’s us. You’re us. Maybe Larxene would miss her performances and Roxas won’t ever call himself that again. But neither of them are dead. They’re happier. That’s the bit I’m looking forward to.”

Sipping at his glass, Xaldin sighed around the burn, before shrugging. “When you’re staring at your own end? One you’re willingly walking towards? Nothing wrong with getting a little self-deprecating, near the end. Keeps you humble enough to want that bore Dilan back. It’s good for me, at this point.”

Lauriam sighed a little as he watched Luis bumble his way up the stairs. He wondered if rehab was as common in Dicea as their roof grass. Maybe that should be something they should be considering along with getting Luis his heart back. 

(Though he had seemed pretty…in tune with his emotions in Lauriam’s head. They’d all helped, but Lauriam was really grateful for what Luis had said at the end there. He wasn’t sure he would’ve come back if it had been just Marluxia they pushed into that hole.)

(Also, really, Ienzo? His little brother had always been a little weirdo, but maybe they should start taking that more seriously too.)

Shaking his head, Lauriam scattered his flowers on a booth table and moved some stools around so he could lounge back against the bar, putting up his feet on a different stool as he joined Xaldin. “I definitely feel way less freaked out than he was, at least lately,” Lauriam hummed in agreement, “So, happier, sure.”

He glanced over at Xaldin before smirking. “...or you could keep putting it off. Let others volunteer first, now that we’ve got so many success cases. Look, I’d even be so kind as to make cases for the others, just to save you some face! Though, that would fall apart when it’s just you left, and we’re looking at you all concerned.” Lauriam mock gasped, putting a hand to his cheek. “Oh, poor Xaldin! Who would’ve guessed it was him that was most afraid of ripping into his own head! But we’d never force any of us to go through with it, no, so we keep just giving him pitying looks when we think he’s not looking, poor thing.”

“Hah! You wish. Word to the wise, dandelion?” Xaldin grinned, giving him a two-fingered salute, “I actually already know where that dull bastard is. When it’s my turn? I’m literally just gonna lead us to the damn statues standing guard. You know those eerie statues they found lined up in the desert, over in Delilah? Statues all standing and dressed like some type of army, holding those long-ass spears? My spears are based on those guys, and those statues are guarding some elaborate doors in my head. My father was one of the archeologists who had been in charge of uncovering them from the sand; left an impression on me, I guess. Dilan’s definitely in there. Mine’s going to be a piece of cake. No big ol’ temper tantrums, like some flowers I can think of.”

“So, yeah, it’s just a matter of picking a day for me. Easy,” Xaldin said, before shrugging, “Besides, I’m ready, honestly. You have any idea how bored I’ve been, since we left the factory? I went from having as much fun as a sadist could have, to helping that drunk upstairs catch lizards and helping Aeleus put up fences. Ugh. I can’t live like this, better to be dull Dilan again.”

Another sip of his rum, before he admitted, “I’ll miss riling you up. No one was more fun than you, dandelion.”

Lauriam’s eyebrows raised a bit, exposing his surprised interest. He felt like he had known something adjacent to all that, it didn’t feel world-shattering for understanding Dilan or anything, but…it was interesting. A piece of the man next to him that Lauriam wanted to know. 

But what he said was, “Sure. Just like how Zexion knew where Ienzo was, and Marluxia knew where I was. ‘In the maze’, sure, technically, I guess. ‘Down’, that was true. ‘Behind the statues’, sure, sure, I’ll take your word for it. I’ll pretend to be shocked when the statues start fighting us or the doors just lead in circles.”

Lauriam’s expression did soften a little after that, though. “I’ll admit, the world does look…brighter? Now. More full of things to do and possibilities. Going out actually seems like it’d be more fun, now. I wonder if Ienzo or Sora could convince Mad Maya to give up some garden space, or that’d ruin the mystique of decay she’s so carefully cultivated.” Lauriam’s nose wrinkled a bit. “Or I could just steal some seeds and dirt from the area. Kinda like that better than stalking around some noble’s garden.”

He raised another eyebrow at Xaldin. “...I was more fun, or Marluxia was? And I seem to remember Dilan didn’t exactly hold back on teasing either.”

In the same way Marluxia couldn’t truly conceptualize who Lauriam had been, as a version of him missing important pieces? Xaldin didn’t entirely understand Dilan, as he just scoffed, “Maybe. Otherwise, he’s a bore. Like most things are boring. Damn epidemic, how dull everything is.”

“...you were both fun, in your own ways,” Xaldin admitted. “I liked Marluxia’s anger. He was more likely to bite you then cuddle, but being bitten is fun, in the right mindset. Hissing, feisty, angry thing. Cute.” Xaldin smirked… before he glanced at Lauriam. “You’re different. You have a layer of sweet that takes the bite out of everything you do. But that’s not a bad thing. It was fun teasing you, seeing what you’d come back with. You’re a brat in the best way,” he chuckled, “...and it was exciting. Always seeing what you’d do next. Though, you and Marluxia had that in common. You’d both do surprising things, no doubt… but you were always harder to predict than him.”

Xaldin paused, before laughing, sipping his rum again. “I’m talking in past tense. I really have just accepted it. My instincts as a Nobody might cause problems when we go digging for Dilan, sure. But right now? I mean it. I’m ready to return to Base Essence.”

He said that, but he looked at Lauriam. And the look on his face wasn’t acceptance, but a sort of… tension. A construct looking at the one thing that would, in fact, make accepting his shift difficult, as he put down his glass and said, “Come here, dandelion. Let me get a good look at you. I haven’t seen your eyes look like that in a year.”

“I’m pretty sure Even and Ienzo have quoted something like, ‘your intent reflects your perception’, but I think I’ll just be killing the obvious to death to say it,” Lauriam snorted. Though Xaldin wasn’t wrong. Their Nobodies had been made to thrive in the environment they had been in. The one they couldn’t live in as themselves. Outside of it? Now the rest of the world was inhospitable, however that manifested. Too anxiety-inducing or complicated or boring to handle. 

Lauriam huffed again, though, again, he blushed a bit. He thought that Marluxia’s anger was one of the things that connected them pretty closely, actually. Lauriam didn’t think he was as quick to anger, or had it hang around him as long, but the heat of their tempers was pretty spot on. 

It…was kind of nice to think about not being angry all the time. 

There was a fuuuuuuuull spectrum of emotions to feel, after all. 

Lauriam gave Xaldin a dry look. 

“Bark bark,” Lauriam said flatly, “Bow wow. That close enough to the dog you were asking for? I’m not just going to come when called, Xaldin.”

Make me.

“Careful. Isa’s gonna hear you and think you’re trying to talk to him,” Xaldin snickered, before with a shit eating smirk, he whistled low. Once, twice, three times in a row as he gestured for Lauriam to come closer–

“Is someone calling me?” Isa’s quiet voice came from the top of the stairs.

“Oh my fucking…” Xaldin put his face in his palm before calling up, “Go back to bed, Isa!”

There was some grumbling upstairs, before steps shuffled back down the hall. 

“That poor bastard,” Xaldin muttered, sitting up on the counter, pulling in his legs to sit criss cross on it, before reaching over to grab Lauriam’s collar–not in a fist, at the end of his fingers–as he pulled him to encourage him to stand up. “Stop playing hard to get, dandelion. You know you love the attention.”

Oh how Lauriam wished Isa had heard the first part and was just doing the funniest thing possible. Otherwise, it was just kind of…sad. Lauriam sighed softly as he gave the stairs a glance.

Though it didn’t stick around for long as he rolled his eyes with a small smirk and this time followed Xaldin’s nudges, dropping his legs off the stool across from him and getting up, Xaldin still damn towering over him sitting on the counter. Lauriam wasn’t a small guy! Xaldin was just huge!

“Maybe. But it’s more fun to get with a little back and forth. Well?” Lauriam raised an eyebrow, as much in Xaldin’s face as he could be without embarrassingly going on his toes or anything. “Polluted swamp green fit me better than Marluxia or no?

More like the difference between a pond and an emerald. Lauriam’s gaze invited frogs to sit close and deer to get a drink, knowing that when it counted, the water was going to be inviting. Calm. 

Marluxia’s gaze had been gems that had refused to be shaped into jewelry. The sort of gem you stuck to the end of a power-drill, its ends sharpened to force other gems from the stones. 

There was a brief, sincere flash of grief through Xaldin, as he reached to cup Lauriam’s chin, thumb grazing the dip of his jaw gently, as he stared. He wondered what he looked like, to other people. He wondered which expression he held, that would look odd or disturbing, on dull ol’ Dilan. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, before leaning in to kiss Lauriam. 

There was no denying Xaldin was a sadist. Pretty much if they hadn’t just made their Nobodies care about nothing at all, then they made them to like the work, and that had been the route Dilan had chosen. Lauriam wondered how much of it was a conscious choice, and how much was reflective of their full personalities. Not that the sadist Nobodies were the inner sadist desires of their Somebodies, but that…Dilan just had so much feeling, so much enjoyment, that even the Xaldin aspect of him had it too. 

…Xaldin was right. Marluxia wasn’t really gone. All of the Nobodies that had been taken back into base essence were still just as much a part of their Somebodies as they’d always been. 

But there was still a difference. And Lauriam knew that he’d miss Xaldin when he went through with it. That Marluxia would miss him. Miss this. 

Lauriam didn’t hesitate as Xaldin kissed him, putting his hands on Xaldin’s shoulders as he kissed back. Appreciating it as much as it veered towards ‘goodbye’ kiss territory, as much as it was the first ‘hello’ kiss he’d had in a long, long time. 

Xaldin let himself enjoy it, for a moment. He let himself pretend that it wasn’t going to end. That the moment after this, and the moment after that, and a thousand more full, empty, final moments beyond that, weren’t going to happen. That he didn’t have to worry about anything other than making sure he tilted his head just right to capture Lauriam’s lower lip between his own. That he gave just enough space to allow the other man to breathe, before pushing back in, unable to deny the heat for long. He tasted Lauriam’s breath and decided it smelled like flowers in a warm field, and he didn’t care if that was wrong, it felt true to him. 

…and then he stopped. And for a moment, he just rested his forehead against Lauriam’s. Breathing. Just sort of sad that the moment was done.

“...you should go to bed, dandelion,” Xaldin whispered, “I don’t have anything to offer you. Maybe, someday, Dilan will. But I’ve got nothing tonight.”

There were echoed memories of a kiss that really hadn’t happened all that long ago. Lauriam knew Marluxia hadn’t meant it as a goodbye, it was just another way among many for his Nobody to say ‘shut the fuck up, you’re an idiot’. ‘I don’t lose’. ‘I’ll destroy you if you think you’ve got me figured out’. Maybe those, in that context, meant the same thing. 

Lauriam couldn’t kiss like Marluxia. He wasn’t going to leave Xaldin tasting blood, the impact of their faces feeling warm from raw impact. But while he didn’t bite, he grazed, teeth not wholly out of the equation; where Marluxia took and demanded, Lauriam was a little more gracious, letting out a small, shaky breath before meeting Xaldin half way as he went back in. 

And instead of only stopping when he was done, Lauriam let Xaldin pull away. Looking at the face right in front of his.

(But Marluxia was still part of him.)

“You say, right after that,” Lauriam scoffed softly, indeed sweetness softening the bite of his words. “...I don’t always fight just for its own sake. So I’ll just ask--you coming too?”

A part of Xaldin wanted to say no. To tell the cute, puffy dandelion, no, that wasn’t happening. Stop lending your heart out to a shitty mask that’s about to break in a couple of days. Stop touching a man who was about to disappear. It’d hurt less. Let Xaldin do, for once, the decent, selfless thing, and tell the flower to spare himself the heartache. 

…but fuck. Xaldin hadn’t been designed to be decent, as he ran his hand over his face with a tired chuckle… “I bet we could find another closet.”

Making wishes on dandelions was always a somewhat destructive act. But Xaldin had wishes too.

Lauriam didn’t think there was anything that gave away his surprise. 

He supposed that might’ve been a little vague, considering everything they had been talking about. And maybe it hadn’t been worth commenting on at all, considering that the only reason Lauriam had been able to catch Xaldin at all was because he was going to bed. In, yanno. The room that they shared with others. Which is what Lauriam had been talking about, not wanting to end up hearing that Xaldin had just gone out all night to avoid being in the same room as him again. 

And, also, like…Lauriam wasn’t a child. He wasn’t about to let Xaldin send him off to respect a bedtime. 

But Lauriam wasn’t going to clarify any bit of that and miss out on Xaldin actually??? Saying yes??? So he just smirked with a soft snort. “Hmmm, I wonder where we could possibly find one of those around here? I can’t think of a single small, enclosed room nearby, can you?”

Moving back in, Lauriam kissed Xaldin again, quicker but leaving him with a nip as he took his own turn gently tugging at Xaldin’s collar. Starting to step backwards without waiting, albeit slowly, for Xaldin to follow.

Xaldin adjusted to step off the counter, following the tug easily with a motion that might have been ‘obedient’, if the look on his face wasn’t so terribly, obviously smug. The nipping kiss just causing a low chuckle as he followed Lauriam’s easy steps, his hand tracing the other man’s waist down to his hips as he murmured, “Only been back a day or so and you’re already making such bad decisions, dandelion.” 

Grasping his hips, Xaldin stopped a moment in the center of the tavern, pulling Lauriam in for another kiss. It was late, and outside of a few drunk Luises and Isa worrying a whistle sound was for him, the odds of anyone seeing them were small. He didn’t really care if anyone did, either, just taking the time to kiss him for a moment as he swayed into him. Something like a dance in the motion as he tried to bend Lauriam back a bit in the kiss.

“I have to make up for lost time, don’t I?” Lauriam smirked, no longer really pulling, but not bringing his hands down either. Trusting Xaldin to follow just from a touch. “Marluxia’s taken advantage of our freedom a little, but certainly nothing exciting. I don’t think he’s kind enough to have been saving it for me, so I might just attribute it to a lack of imagination.”

The world was at their fingertips, after all. There was a lot to make up for after imprisonment. 

Lauriam was the one following now, as Xaldin kissed him again, feeling Xaldin push him back…and back… He huffed a little against Xaldin’s lips and hooked one of his ankles around the Nobody’s, shoving one of his hands up his shirt. Touching for the sheer enjoyment of touching…and also to get some purchase for instant vengeance if Xaldin dropped him. 

Xaldin laughed against Lauriam’s lips, hand wrapped around his back as he murmured, “Someone’s feeling paranoid.” 

And, because Lauriam was right to be paranoid, Xaldin grasped Lauriam’s hip, pushing up on his backside, and threw him over his shoulder. Patting Lauriam reassuringly on the butt as he said, “Alright, you were talking about the empty storage closet, right? Let’s go see if that door has a lock.” He chuckled, heading around the entrance, where on the opposite side of the tavern was a small sitting area that, as far as any of them could tell, had likely been some sort of event or vip room. 

“Could you blame me--!!” Lauriam very, very quickly went quiet, a weird sort of non-noise in his throat as he cut off the yelp before it became one as Xaldin hefted him over his shoulder. It was embarrassing, Lauriam wasn’t just something to throw around, it made him incredulous, yeah, Xaldin was ripped, muscles maintained as much as they could be and a little more, considering their circumstances, but Lauriam wasn’t small, it was kind of ridiculous--

It was really hot. And Lauriam’s face burned as he huffed, crossing his arms half in mid-air, not bothering to bend his knees at all so Xaldin kept walking into his legs. 

“Seemed like one of the more likely places to have a lock,” he grumbled, “And isn’t two inches with shelving.” Shifting his weight a little on Xaldin’s shoulder, Lauriam smirked a bit. “You sure you’ve got me? It’ll be very embarrassing to stop half-way through because you’ve thrown out a shoulder.”

“Relax, I’ve got you~” Xaldin laughed, again patting Lauriam’s backside… and not admitting, okay, his lower back ached a little and he was absolutely going to feel that a lot tomorrow. 

But tomorrow was, perhaps quite literally, Dilan’s problem. If Xaldin was going to throw out his back? He was going to do it fucking Lauriam silly. Dilan would live.

(Admittedly, some of this bravado wasn’t just that it was Xaldin’s last chance to do all of this. Their first, and only, time years ago had been a nice but nervous experience. Lauriam having his first and Xaldin not wanting to fuck that up for him. This time? He wanted to give Lauriam a memory less filled with nervous uncertainty. He wanted to leave him on a high note.)

They moved past the sitting area–it was trashed, whatever had happened in the tavern when it had first been abandoned having been absolutely taken out on that room by someone, chairs shattered and glass everywhere. No one used it–and headed to the storage closet at the end of the hall. Opening the door, Xaldin twisted the knob for the gas-light, warming the room with an easy, orange glow, and he observed the space, assessing: a few storage boxes that might have held festival or event decorations. Tablecloths bundled into the corner. Two beer bottles in the corner, opened and shared between someone years ago. 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna say this,” Xaldin laughed lightly, bending his knees to put Lauriam down, Lauriam not light enough and Xaldin not strong enough to pick him up and put him down again, just letting his feet connect to the floor to steady himself off Xaldin’s shoulder, “But our last closet was nicer.” 

“Darling, it’s not me I’m worried about,” Lauriam purred, before snickering a bit. He was confident he’d be able to catch himself if Xaldin dropped him. It was just that he’d absolutely laugh in the Nobody’s face if he did, while admittedly likely going to get an ice pack from the icebox that, fingers crossed, eggs apologized to, had been working well the past few days. 

Lauriam looked over the sitting room, then the storage closet as Xaldin went in. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen these areas (...sort of) but Marluxia hadn’t had a lot of reason to come over here. After their initial check for metals, he’d never been back. 

The fact that they had thought to check the wrecked area over for metals in the first place?

Lauriam huffed, getting back onto his feet. “I guess that was one benefit of being a life-long, important prisoner--we didn’t have to do all that much of our own cleaning. Can’t let the prized pigs wallow in their own filth that much.”

He looked around for a moment, taking particular note of the tablecloths--probably dusty, but likely not much more than that--and the storage boxes, before looking back at Xaldin, grinning with narrowed eyes. “I think we can make do, though. We’re resourceful enough.”

Not waiting for Xaldin to straighten up all the way again, Lauriam kissed him once more, angling to prevent Xaldin from standing up all the way. 

“Mph!” Xaldin mildly complained–weh. His back–but unable to complain that much about the position, Lauriam making it more than inviting as his hands wrapped around Xaldin’s face. Their firm grip warm and exciting as Lauriam kissed him, Xaldin feeling a strong spark of arousal run up the front of his body as he pressed his tongue at Lauriam’s lips, requesting access, and felt the man’s mouth part for him. 

If Lauriam wasn’t going to let him stand up straight, well, Xaldin had no choice but to wrap his arms around his backside and lift him up again. Not really off his feet, Lauriam was too tall to do that in any way that wasn’t throwing him over his shoulder. But Xaldin making damn sure the balls of his feet skidded against the floor as he brought Lauriam more into the closet, stopping when his backside hit the crates, jostling some of the bottles with a ‘clink’. 

“Hold on, let me,” Xaldin huffed, breaking the kiss, “Let me throw those out of here, last thing I want is them falling on us.”

Pff, asshole. Lauriam sucked on Xaldin’s tongue to make his stance on that little ploy clear. Though, of all the ways to be dragged into a closet, this was probably the top of Lauriam’s list. 

Lauriam made a little ‘mmph’ sound as he felt himself run into the crates, and it did take him a good second to catch his breath as they parted, just giving Xaldin a little nod. It would definitely be a mood killer, sure. 

Though, as kiss-drunk as he was starting to get, Lauriam’s fingers made quick work of his shirt as soon as Xaldin’s back was turned, perching himself more fully on the crate as he tossed his clothes on top of it behind him. Giddily counting the seconds in his head to see how quickly he could do it outside of Xaldin’s vision. 

Xaldin grabbed the bottles and headed out to the sitting room, tossing them inside without much concern about where they landed, the whole room a mess anyway, before stepping back into the hallway. 

Then, taking a breath… he started to stretch. 

Look! He didn’t actually want to throw out his back! It’d kill the mood! But so would the brat making fun of him for stretching out his sides and his legs, warming his muscles up slightly. Reminding himself that he had to keep his sadistic instincts in check, though not too worried about that. He had found it was more or less easy to treat his family (and maybe that was a weird word to use, right this moment, but whatever else they were, he and Lauriam were still a family of some sort. The kind that had lived in a home together for years. There wasn’t a better word) with some modicum of consideration, despite his ease and delight with suffering. 

His sadism and his love and affection and desire to be good to his loved ones weren’t things that canceled each other out. They were just two different parts of himself he could tap into. He’d prefer Lauriam have a good time, than to get a cheap thrill out of a grimace. 

Finishing rotating his shoulders and bouncing on his heels a bit, shaking his arms out, Xaldin headed to the closet, opening it up… and letting out a low whistle as he closed the door behind him, locking it behind his hips as he took in the sight. “Sunshine’s been good for you,” he noted, noting the lines of tan from Lauriam’s time out in the sun, his already darkened, paler skin almost like its own sort of thinly sheared cloth in contrast to the darker tan of his neckline and arms. 

It was hot. It gave an already sexy display texture, design, as Xaldin looked Lauriam up and down without restraint, making it obvious where his eyes were trailing and what parts he was appreciating in greater detail… before he started to pull himself out of his own shirt. 

Xaldin was strong. He and Aeleus had been one of the handful of Nobodies in the factory who, along with their Somebodies, had actually enjoyed exercise. There had been a lot of sessions between the two of them where they’d just work out with each other for hours, talking about not much, no real desire to stop and just enjoying the company of someone else who, yes, really did just want to do push ups all day for its own sake. 

But Xaldin’s body carried weight more than Aeleus’ did. Tossing his shirt aside and kicking off his pants, Xaldin wasn’t embarrassed by the stomach he had layered over his muscles, the hair that coated over his arms and stomach, peppering his chest which rounded the same way his stomach did, just a natural part of him that he didn’t think much about. Xaldin just made sure to tighten his dreads back, pulling it back like he wasn’t showing himself off, even as he smirked a little. “Still up to this, dandelion?”

…well, it’d turned out he didn’t need to worry that much about time. Admittedly, there was the passing thought that maybe Xaldin would just…leave him there. Just had gone along with the whole trip over just so Lauriam would stop pushing the issue, but it really was a passing thought. Lauriam might think about how to counter being dropped or picked up or jostled around, but he really didn’t believe that Xaldin would just leave.

But, anyway, that did give him enough time to unbuckle his boots and work on his pants too. And by the time Xaldin came back? Lauriam was definitely lounging back a bit, putting himself on display. 

Smirking a bit as he followed where deep blue eyes tracked, Lauriam half-shrugged lazily. “Has definitely been one of my more favorite parts of being out. A lot of things come with caveats, but the sun’s always been the sun.”

It was something Lauriam was happy to bask in for simple enjoyment…though there were others too that, at least right now, came out under the cover of night. 

Lauriam’s position didn’t change, but his gaze sharpened, eyes hungry as Xaldin matched his pace and started to strip too, watching as every strong, thick part of his body--biceps, chest, stomach, thighs…--were revealed, and Lauriam reminded himself not to actually, literally drool. 

Didn’t stop him from running his tongue across the bottoms of his teeth, canines hungry to bite into something. 

Not even bothering to look back up to Xaldin’s face, Lauriam scoffed. “What, did you think I stripped for fun?”

“Wouldn’t put it past you, getting me all riled up and then pulling out the rug,” Xaldin admitted, though rather than wary, the words were deeply amused and affectionate. Like that was an aspect of Lauriam he respected, as he strode forward and, grasping the man by the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. 

He brushed his fingers down Lauriam’s side, enjoying the warm feeling of the other man’s skin beneath his hands, his dick already nodding up in excitement for how close he was to Lauriam, which Xaldin was privately very relieved about. They didn’t have lube, but then, they hadn’t had lube last time either, nor had any of them any time in the factory. That was alright. Xaldin knew where to get some, as he grazed his fingernails down Lauriam’s front, before grabbing his dick and starting to work his palm against it, kissing Lauriam’s neck as he started. “You lean back and relax. Give me what I need, I know you have it in you,” Xaldin teased, working Lauriam’s shaft.