In the course of an hour, everyone experienced three major events.

They discovered where they grew up, and what they wanted.

-

Hao smiled fondly at the glowing lights of Corona city, proud to be following in his mother’s footsteps as a Priest of Malenia. He’d do his city proud! He’d keep the sickness at bay, one bonfire at a time!

-

They faced a tragedy. Something grim and terrible. A death by accident, others, or their own hands. 

-

“Grab the gate! Someone has to grab the gate!”

“But we still have people out there!” 

“THEY’RE LOST! GRAB THE FUCKING GATE!”

Aced panted, eyes wide with dread. He was closest to the gate. The corpses were approaching, he could see it for himself. But he could see runners too. People trying to get inside. Could they make the gap? If he gave them more time, could they make it?! 

He ran for the gate, wondering, wondering, wondering–

-

And finally, they heard the announcement of the moon. The end was nigh. The festival begun. Humanity’s only hope was in the artifacts the gods carried. There was no other choice. No other way. No other–

-

“--hope?” Xaldin asked Vexen, the mercenary–now bodyguard, after some negotiations–as he hefted his morning star mace over his shoulder, “There’s seriously no other hope than fighting literal gods?”

“It would explain our histories. There have been signs of human remains long before our written texts began. Tombs and texts written in languages long dead a dozen times over. If this is a test, and humanity has failed before, perhaps…” Vexen glared at the tombs, biting his lower lip, “...they must have failed, yes? Certainly they couldn’t have succeeded… not with consequences so catastrophic… certainly. There must be hope.”

-

And with those three things touched upon for everyone involved? 

Session zero…

OOO IS OVER!!!

OvO holy shit I did it

There was a brief, startled moment where no one knew where they were. Everyone having seemed to take a step on their respective paths, and then that next step on the cobblestone of the town square of Clock Town. A massive group of 40-ish people all looking around like they had been awoken from a dream.

There was a moment of silence… before Kaito laughed, pumping his fist into the air as he shouted, “THAT WAS AWESOME!”

“Oh come on!” Marluxia whined, huffing, “It’s already been an hour?! We haven’t even done anything!”

ㅍ_ㅍ Were you expecting to fight one of the bosses tonight? That seems short-sighted, considering we’re all level one, and this game is intended to go on for some time.

Terra snickered, coming over to ruffle Marluxia’s hair before popping back into his Chibi form as his son growled at him. 

ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ CAREFUL ZEXY, ALL THAT FIGHTING SPIRIT MARS DIDN’T GET TO BURN OFF MIGHT JUST BE SENT YOUR WAY

Amused at everyone coming back to themselves, Kokichi gave Amaina a grin. “You did it!” he cheered with her, “Amaina-chan, Termina’s incredible, I’ve barely seen bits of the eastern areas and already it feels like I could be astounded by everything I could explore for ages! This is really gonna be awesome!”

Around part of the back of the crowd, Josie found Dimitri and patted his friend’s back. “So, what’d you think? Did I promise the LARPing session of a lifetime or what?”

QwQ

OOO HELL YEAH IT IS

QvQ everyone had fun?

“Phooo, I wasn’t even playing, and I still got caught up in the atmosphere.” Shuichi sighed, wandering over to Kokichi and Amaina, shaking his head a bit, “Luna Burgh is in a state. The players there have their work cut out for them, that has to be the hardest area to survive in. Everyone’s trying to steal from you.”

“What, are you kidding? Did you even hear what Corona has going on?” Axel said, overhearing Shuichi as he touched base with Isa and Luis, who were listening in curiously about his first session, “You know Amaina told us that there’s a random chance every session we get sick? These people are gonna burn us alive before we even get out.”

OoO Everyone has a random chance to get sick

O.O

OvO your chances are MUCH higher though

Kaito practically skipped over to his husbands, grinning wide as he gave Shuichi a quick kiss on the cheek, before wrapping himself around Kokichi and picking him up to swing him a little, “‘Kichi, ‘Kichi, did you see!? I did so good! I got a kill!” Kaito said excitedly, before turning to Amaina, “Was I the first kill of the game!?”

OoO Nah, sorry. That honor goes too–

Dimitri gasped slightly when Josie patted him on the back, still looking a little dazed, like he hadn’t quite caught up… before his eyes went wobbly as he turned to his friend. Swaying a bit as he said, “Josie… I think I k-killed someone?”

Alter Ego, who had been discussing something with Ava, twitched his ears overhearing that, before nodding to Dimitri, “Might want to take care of that first.”

“On it,” Ava said, heading to the two teens.

“It’s not just getting sick that’s a threat in Corona,” Invi added, looking over from her quiet check-in with Ira, something contemplative and calculating in her downturned gaze, “Those thrown in the bonfires are also dissenters or political rivals, or just those considered undesirable, as well as a number of people just mistakenly reported. It means that anyone at any moment can be selected.”

Which was dangerous for them, but could also become an advantage.

Giggling as Kaito scooped him up in a hug, Kokichi hugged his husband back. “Kai-chan, I’m not watching the whole game like the refs are--I’m a humble merchant! I don’t have time to tune into every world event happening! But I’m sure you were very impressive, and starting off with a good energy for the rest of the game~”

Smile growing warier, Josie looked around for a moment before guiding Dimitri back towards a bench. “Allllright, let’s sit down, man. At the end of all this, just remember--you didn’t actually kill anyone. It’s just like killing an NPC in a regular game, right? You’ve done that tons of times!”

“I know,” Dimitri sniffed, allowing himself to be led as he sat down, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms, “But it was so real. She was in so much pain… I couldn’t stop crying after I did it. I think I cried the whole session.”

“You’re one of our non-supernaturals, yes?” Ava asked, blowing a bubble gum pop as she approached the other teens, giving them a look over before focusing on Dimitri, “I don’t mean that in an accusatory kind of way. I just noticed you were having a tough time. Is this your first time doing anything like this?”

“Y-yeah… I mean, Amaina introduced herself to me at a park, and it was sorta a hallucination, which is sorta a dream thing… does that count?” Dimitri asked.

“Not really,” Ava said, sitting down at Dimitri’s other side, resting her elbows on her knees as she learned forward to look at both of them, “This was probably an intense way to first experience a mental landscape. I’m sure you were excited, Amaina wouldn’t have let you join if you weren’t, and Alter Ego and Templar wouldn’t have let you keep playing if you couldn’t handle it. But it’s still understandable that it’s hard to shake off, for someone who’s never been in this setting before. It’s alright if you don’t quite feel yourself yet.”

Josie rubbed Dimitri’s back as they settled. Amaina had told him it was a horror game, and if they were playing it in psychic space, he’d known from the get-go that it was going to feel real. He’d explained that to the best of his abilities to Dimitri too, after he’d asked if he could invite a friend that…

Well, that had been its own conversation. Letting Dimitri know in any way that magic and weird occult shit definitely existed and was real outside of enthusiasts’ magazines. But a game this huge was what he’d assumed would be a dream come true for his friend--literally--so Josie had pushed for it. 

He gave Ava a small considering look as she joined them--yeah, nah, he really didn’t know her, though there was something almost familiar there--and agreed with her points that they’d set up so many failsafes that if this really was too much for Dimitri, someone would’ve intervened. So it was just…coming down from the action. 

“Did kinda throw you into the deep end, huh,” Josie chuckled, giving Dimitri a pat in the center of his back. “It’s kind of a lot for me too, but Amaina’s been showing up in my dreams for months, so I have waddled through my baby steps.” He gave Dimitri a sheepish look. “We could ask her to stop by your way on a non-game night to take you on a more whimsical dream? Might help out before next time.”

Dimitri sniffed again, looking a little calmer now after having sat down and talked a bit about it and, honestly, maybe just waking up a little more from an hour long horror-based crying session… but he rubbed his eyes again and asked, giving Josie a little pouty look, “...yeah? Would you come with?”

“Of course!” Josie laughed brightly, before smugly grinning and pinching Dimitri’s wet cheek smarmily. “Hey, I was gonna sacrifice time with my favorite Sweet Dream Fairy just for you, because I looooove you, but if you’re gonna bare your golden heart, I’ll definitely take advantage~ We’ll go on an adventure full of cotton candy and rainbows, just you see.”

Dimitri pouted some more, but was looking more put together as he blinked tiredly, baring through the pinching valiantly as he said, “You’re teasing, but I know you also want to go on a magical adventure. So you’re welcome.”

Ava smiled lightly–crisis done–before standing up and giving the two a nod, heading off to let them continue to relax. Around her there were more and more excited conversations, as people told each other what they did during the session. It was actually a little interesting to see how many friend groups had clearly been broken up in the sorting, a lot of people playing with someone they didn’t know personally. Ava wondered if that had been a pure coincidence, or something Amaina, Alter Ego, Temp and Ienzo had guided everyone towards.

Ava was keeping herself available for any warning signs. Her role as an NPC was to be a potential obstacle and also helpful for clues to the players about storybeats and greater narrative puzzles, but her secret staff function–another of Amaina’s little helpers–was to help navigate any difficulties the players had separating the fantasy from reality. 

And she had been warned someone might be struggling. Now where was…

(ΦωΦ) You know what’s surprising?

(ΦωΦ) My character actually found you quite charming.

(ΦωΦ) It’s entirely possible I’m going to end up flirting with you. Which is both mortifying and also somewhat funny to me.

ʕ•̀ω•́ʔ Why is that weird? I am fucking charming. 

ʕ•͡ω•ʔ Wait, are you attracted to me? Normally?

(ΦωΦ) I didn’t think I was, but apparently if you remove, just… all context?

(ΦωΦ) You’re adequately handsome, Xaldin.

ʕ•͡ω•ʔ Hell yeah

ʕ•̀ω•́ʔ …no one tell my boyfriends or the kids, they’ll all get fucking weird at me if the resident grandpa starts hitting on me just because we’re both amnesiaced.  I’m not putting up with another round of that shit.

(●ↀωↀ●) Rude??

“So…what were you actually doing? I didn’t see much of Neveram at all on the camera things,” Doppio asked, just having finished hearing about Arven’s start in Sunrise. 

Giovanni shrugged, spinning the mask he’d made for his costume idly in his hands. “Hearing some of the others, I think we’re getting a slower start. In some definitions. Neveram deals with undead monsters every now and then, so there was this big outbreak of them that we had to deal with.” He smirked a bit. “Got a little close at the end there, but the woman with the pink hair over there, Linnea, has this crazy weapon that kept everything at bay for a while.”

Over in another group, Lauriam asked Dilan, “Where did you choose to start, actually? As an NPC you didn’t have to group up like the rest of us, and there’s new history everywhere on the map…” He blushed lightly, giving Dilan a sheepish smile. “It’d be kind of cute if we ended up in the same area, but I can’t imagine a version of you being that intent on graverobbing that you’d venture into a place everyone calls ‘instant death’.”

Dilan laughed a little sheepishly, leaning his shoulder slightly against Lauriam as he confessed, “I picked what I thought would be one of the safer areas. Technically Ghibli is the safest, but I’m starting my journey in Quarry Town. It felt like there was just enough going on there that it’d be interesting to see how some things play out, while still being fairly easy to run from when things get too dicey. Though, I believe Amaina’s given me some ‘special’ item that players could trade or loot off of me? I found an amulet in one of the graves I dug up that screamed ‘McGuffin’.”

“Hmm. I keep overhearing people trying to strategize. I’m sure they’d love to know you have a potentially helpful item.” Even mused, looking around curiously at the various groups, “But I imagine it’s a practice in futility. None of you will remember your grand plans once the session starts again.”

Dilan had tilted his head, considering what Lauriam had said, before asking, “Mind you, where did you go again? What place is ‘instant death’? Did you end up on the volcano?”

Lauriam’s eyebrows raised, though he paused to consider Even’s point. “Sure, sure, but it’s still fun to try to plan, and it’s not like the system is perfect. Maybe certain things will filter down, and if a plan aligns with our character’s motivations, I don’t see why it couldn’t.”

“Like, uh,” he tilted his head at Dilan slightly, looking up at him from the press against his shoulder, “That’s surprising, I didn’t see you in Quarry Town at all. Though there was a lot going on, and it’s not like I can really check now…” He gave his boyfriend a more skeptical look. “It’s practically a swear how people talk about the desert? I think I’m headed right into the fire, but the game world makes it seem like if you even take a step into the desert that Radahn guy will see you and rip you apart.”

Tipping his head back, Lauriam then rolled it to the side as he rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grimace. “Actually, that plays more into the ‘unable to strategize’ part than my point. My character didn’t think at all, and now I’m tied up and being dragged into the desert without a weapon. We’ll…see how that goes, I guess.”

“...there’s a God that chases you in the desert!?” Dilan gasped, suddenly looking panicked. HE had been going to go peek into the desert! To see if there were any graves to take a peek at that had been preserved! Or fresh! Oh no!! “Amaina! Amaina, I need a word with you!” 

Even watched Dilan suddenly hurry off, apparently not deeply concerned what his non-player character was up to. Crossing his arms and shaking his head as he muttered, “Not even a word of concern about the fact you’ve been dragged to your apparent death in session one… I’m aware I’m a bit of a traumatic figure in your relationship to that man. But even taking the age and iffy familial ties growing up out of it… what on earth do you see in him?”

Lauriam blinked dryly at Dilan, just watching him run off. How…did you miss that. Not even accounting for the fact that ‘Starscourge Radahn’ was on the map that they selected their starts from, the local god was half of what anyone talked about in game?! Sure, sure, he knew Dilan could be a bit airheaded when it came to things more recent than a hundred years ago, but…SERIOUSLY?!?

Not to mention…

Lauriam pouted a little--he wasn’t expecting it, it wasn’t that kind of game, and Dilan wasn’t even a player, but his mention of it being ‘cute’ was an idle fantasy about his boyfriend coming to save him--before letting out a beleaguered sigh at Even’s question. “Do you actually want me to get into it, or are you just asking to open up another passive-aggressive avenue to complain about our relationship?”

Even raised a delicate eyebrow at Lauriam, frowning a little at the question. But he paused. Like he was actually considering his response…

“...Aeleus is infuriatingly stubborn.” Even said, glancing over at his partner, who was listening to the teens excitedly explain what they did to each other and him, “And I don’t mean he’s ‘stubborn’ in some cute way where he insists we sleep in the same bedding together even though he knows I prefer my own space, because he likes to be near me, though he does do that. And I don’t mean ‘stubborn’ in some secretly noble way, where it’s what keeps him so loyal and reliable, though that is also technically true.”

“I mean stubborn,” Even scowled, clearly annoyed by some memory or another, “in a way where we’ve, more often than I care to admit, have had terrible fights. I don’t know how well we hid it from you all, though I can say we did try our absolute best to make sure you lot never saw it. Not just being the adults in your lives, but wanting to always be a strong, unified front that you all could rely on. To never let you be afraid that our relationship might fail, and thus we might fail you… but we had moments. And while, yes, I had my own issues, I will still argue to the end of time that half of those fights was him just being stubborn for its own damn sake. Absolutely infuriating, how much that man does not want to admit the first foolish thought that entered his head in any given situation was quite possibly not the most correct one. Ngh. He’s where I’ve gotten all my wrinkles from. Stress lines.”

A bit of Lauriam’s stand-offish stance softened as Even spoke, and he followed the older man’s gaze over to his partner and the teens. It wasn’t a surprise that Aeleus was stubborn, however Even wanted to define it. They had all grown a bit poetic with the way their energy manifested, however, but Lauriam thought it was undeniably true that Aeleus was as staunch and stalwart as rock. A steady foundation you could rely on. An immovable obstacle. 

Even if Even could cut right to your heart with words like a scalpel, sometimes Lauriam had felt worse facing Aeleus after fighting with the supervisors, if just for how heavy his disapproval was. 

“Do you just blame every sign of aging on one of us?” Lauriam lightly questioned, before sighing softly. “...Dilan’s sweet. I know he and Marluxia can tangent off each other for hours, but I love just listening to him on his own all the same. Maybe he doesn’t always pay attention or understand what’s going on, but none of that means he doesn’t care--and he really does, a ton. After talking with him, everything always seems brighter, and smaller, and he just…makes me happy.”

Letting out a little huff, Lauriam glanced down, something a bit tired draping over his shoulders. “It might sound silly to you, but some of my ‘escaping the factory’ daydreams used to have whole sagas of me going off on adventures with him. I might not have the sort of wanderlust the Heart Trio have, but sometimes those daydreams really felt like…it, you know? The best anything could be.”

Maybe he was just worn down from traveling recently but…well. Now those daydreams felt extra childish. Lauriam didn’t feel cut out for any kind of adventure anymore, he’d just…be in the way of anyone who actually wanted that stuff.

“I was young before I met any of you. I went to the factory and you all made me old.” Even said dryly, glancing down to his feet as he scoffed, “You know what I did not see coming? I met Demyx and Larxene and my toenails started to crack. Mummified by those two.”

“...I’ll admit. It makes me happy, that such things are not out of your reach now.” Even said, looking over to Lauriam, his expression evening out into something close to soft, if one squinted by his permanent eyebrow anger lines that were also the work of his partner, “Honestly, sometimes I look at our reality, our situation, and I feel near dizzy. I hadn’t hoped for better, for any of you. Wanted it, certainly, but hadn’t hoped for it. I expected you to die in those rooms, where your best case scenario was that you were one day emotionally so broken that you stopped dreaming of escape. That you’d accept you’d whither away in there, chained to a found family forced upon you, and at least be glad for temporary beauty in our collective imaginations.”

“That was all I had hoped for you.” Even said, voice soft and tired, “Amaian doesn’t know what true horror is. She wanted no children in her horror game, and so the world has a fertility problem. In the real world, we didn’t get to choose that. You all were brought into the terror, and we thought you were doomed. And we just had to live with that… but you’re not. You’re out and you’re free. You can live real lives. You can play foolish games with friends and even strangers. You can walk in gardens, even if there’s missteps. You can cross borders, even if it’s challenging. Someday soon, you can go out on dates with your somewhat moronic boyfriends.”

“...it’s all I could have ever wanted.” Even said, “More than I could have ever hoped for.”

There was a small, barely there smile on Lauriam’s face, mostly just in motion. 

“Does it still count if the dreams felt like pure fantasy? Because I definitely thought I was going to die there.” It had even gotten close, a few times. Lauriam had just seen too many people live out the ends of their lives in the factory, and yes, he didn’t care who the hell wanted to make a comparison, three was too many. Sometimes his deepest yearning had started to make plans about one day just being pushed too far, going on a rampage to tear as many amulets and sigils off as many supervisors as he could and then taking them all down with him. 

That was a fantasy to have everyone else escape, but not him. Lauriam had accepted that he’d never see anything but concrete walls for the rest of his life. 

But now they were free. (And Lauriam was starting to think that he was too suited to those walls, still.)

“Does that mean that she doesn’t know what horror is, that she’s specifically excluded something that would make it all ten times worse? I don’t like reading them, but I know a lot of the horror novels in Ienzo’s library don’t touch on every horrible subject possible at once.” Lauriam posed, before giving Even another small tired smile. “It’s nice to get more than you expect, huh.”

Feeling something sad tremble in his chest, Lauriam took a breath before leaning more towards Even and speaking quieter. “Actually, on the subject of dates--a Dicean couples’ holiday is coming up. What are you planning for Aeleus?”

“I did hear about that. In truth, I haven’t thought much what I’d do for it this year,” Even said, looking to Aeleus, “...but next year? I’d like to take us to a beach. A trip.” Even paused, before letting out a slightly shuddering breath, “Alone.”

“I can’t handle that sooner.” Even admitted, “Aeleus is far more ready than I am, to not have you all under thumb. Letting Ienzo go…” Even frowned, glancing over at his sons, “That was another fight between myself and Aeleus, though hopefully Ienzo and Zexion never got wind of it. I didn’t want to let any of them go. Still makes me ill when I remember how far they are… you’re right, Amaina probably does recognize how difficult seeing children in danger and knowing you can’t help them is, and that’s why there’s none in this world. I suppose I just meant what giving up in the fact of that terror does to you. She has not learned that yet.”

“I have a hard time being away from you all. I am doing my best to not make that all of your problem.” Even said, looking to Lauriam, “Same as you’re attempting to not make any of your problems my problems, by refusing to talk about any of it, no matter how much I bait you. So, fine, yes, I’m not planning much for this year, and am daydreaming of going off on a romantic couples trip with just me and my partner, to let us be alone for the first time in our relationship, and I feel a bit giddy and a bit anxious about it. What are you planning?”

Maybe Lauriam just wasn’t being fair to Even, but he had really expected his uncle to have dismissed the whole idea if he’d even heard about it. They weren’t Dicean, the holiday had no significance for them, performing romance felt trite in the face of a relationship he was confident in, yadda yadda… But instead?

Lauriam’s eyebrows shot up in pure surprise at the incredibly romantic plans, if even for next year. That was just pragmatic planning, they’d barely even begun to set up their lives in Usott so taking another multi-day trip was asking a lot, but also for the emotional side…

“...I only heard any of it after the fact, but it sounded like we didn’t exactly have an easy solution for staying together,” Lauriam decided on after a moment, his voice soft and understanding, even with the dull sting of not having been able to choose for himself in that decision, “No way Mom would leave without trying to talk to Ventus, and…I suppose it’s literally possible we all could’ve gone to NGP, but could you imagine all of us there?” Lauriam let out a small, amused snort. “It already sounds chaotic enough in the castle.”

“You could look at this as a good trial run, if nothing else, for being able to take vacations away from the foul liches stealing your lifeforce,” he half-joked, pouting for a moment at being called out--he wasn’t avoiding anything, thanks--before blushing lightly. 

“Well, Marluxia and I are going to try going out on a date together during the day. Figuring out the logistics of that. I’ve heard around that restaurants can get kind of competitive the day of, so we’ll probably find something else to do.” Lauriam started blushing deeper. “...and, ah… he’s set up a plan for Dilan and Xaldin later, but I’m not going to talk about it with you.”

He hadn’t even told Even he’d gotten a piercing, Lauriam was not going to get into just what sort of ‘surprise’ Marluxia had somehow convinced him to help with.

Even was nodding along with most of that, scoffing in soft amusement at the theory of them all going to NGP–someone would have inevitably gotten thrown into jail, even sending half had been dicey–and considering the wisdom of the competition of restaurants with a soft hmm–he had admittedly been thinking of just having a nice dinner out of the castle with Aeleus as a low-stress way to celebrate their relationship, but maybe not unless he could get a reservation somewhere–and finally at Lauriam’s vague, final point…

…Even’s nose wrinkled. “Ew.”

Lauriam’s face was a deep pink as he scowled at Even. “Don’t ‘ew’ me! I’m not getting into it!! And you deal with objectively gross stuff all the time!”

“I helped raise you, you brat, don’t tell me about sexual stuff. As far as I’m concerned, you’re celibate. Same as my sons.” Even said, sniffing a bit. Sounding dead serious.

“I’M NOT TELLING YOU ANYTHING!!” Lauriam outraged, before seething, “And like those two would tell you anything about what they’re doing in a million years.”

“They don’t have to. They’re not doing anything. Same as you. You… fell ass first into a pile of cum once, which was very unfortunate. And Terra is a very special kind of person, to have helped you with that. Truly disturbing… that’s what’s not going to be in this game.” Even realized, nodding certainly, looking a bit proud to have caught something Amaina missed, “Cleaning the cum off your foolish, clumsy son’s butt. Truly horrifying.”

At first Lauriam just rolled his eyes--sure Ienzo and Zexion weren’t doing anything. Of course. They clearly weren’t the kind of people who’d incidentally end up at a secluded manor in the middle of nowhere hosted by a cult, just to observe and take notes--before something grim came over him. 

He knew what Even was referencing, which was embarrassing enough on its own, but in general?

“...that sort of stuff better not be in this game,” he grumbled.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Amaina herself likely would find the concept fascinating, but she has too many people working with her that would have veto’d the possibility.” Even said, “If not even for tastefulness or prudishness, than purely due to consent issues. I don’t know how they’ll divert any situation where that could happen, but I’m certain they’ve thought of it and will.”

Crossing his arms, Lauriam nodded at that, lips still drawn in a grim frown. He didn’t really know Alter Ego or the Templar well, regardless of their trips to the island, but if no one else? He could trust that Ienzo would shoot down any sexual horror encounters. That was true horror, but even for people that wanted to play around with that stuff, doing it while no one could even remember they consented was the worst idea. And however diverting things would work, Lauriam also trusted that his little brother would twist the world into oblivion before leaving someone at the mercy of something like that.

(It didn’t even occur to him to worry about things like cheating, even if their characters weren’t dating.)

“...I’m not sure about trusting that they’ve thought of it, but I think it’s safe to trust that they’d stop it,” Lauriam conceded after a moment. “I get the feeling this is mostly about body horror, existential dread, and failure, anyway.”

“Have you heard that man over there talk for longer than three minutes?” Even said, gesturing over to Kaito across the crowd, who was curled around Shuichi’s shoulders now, leaning on his back as he swayed with him a bit, kissing Shuichi’s cheek over and over, “You can’t talk about literally anything without him bringing sex up in some way. If only to deal with him, they’ve definitely thought about it.”

Ava headed back to beneath the clocktower, looking around for where she had last seen Terra, before asking Kaito, Kokichi and Shuichi, “Have you seen Terra, one of the little ones, brown hair–”

“Oh, yeah, he went to go talk to the teenagers. Nice guy, I love his energy,” Kaito grinned, swaying behind Shuichi a bit before saying cheerfully, “Hey, ‘Ava’? I couldn’t place you before, but hearing you speak? You remind me soooooo much of someone~”

Ava smirked lightly, “You don’t say.”

Kaito chuckled, before saying to her, “Hey, I’m fine now? But I’ll probably end up reaching out to Miss Crystal about stuff. Just giving you a heads up because I know she’s gonna turn around and go to you about stuff then. Yeah, that’s right, she told on you. You suck at confidentiality.” 

“We never discuss specifics.” Ava sniffed, looking away, “You’re not in crisis?”

“Nah.” Kaito grinned, shrugging, “Having a great time! Just stuff on my mind.”

Shuichi was frowning slightly, side-eyeing Kaito, “You’re going to tell us what’s happening later then too, yes? That’s why you’re saying it so openly?”

“Yeaaaah, it’s no big deal, promise.” Kaito said, kissing Shuichi’s cheek again.

Ava nodded, heading off to find Terra again.

Lauriam’s expression soured as he looked over to where--and who--Even gestured. Sure. The guy over the moon about his partners was really that much of a risk. He’d buy that and think it was gold too. 

Kokichi briefly gave his Kaito a curious and mildly concerned look before smiling. “Well, I am relieved that you didn’t have a horrific time paired with the excitement in here. We’ll talk in the morning, I guess?”

From where Terra was listening to his kids talk about their first session, he caught Ava’s eye for a moment as she walked over.

ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ LOOKS LIKE I’M BEING SUMMONED. DON’T WAIT UP FOR ME, BUT I WILL REQUEST A RERUN--IT WAS CRAZY ENOUGH JUST HEARING ABOUT THE REAL SNOW YOU GUYS RAN ACROSS BUT WHAT YOUR GROUP IS WALKING THROUGH SOUNDS INSANE, RI-RI.

Bounding over towards Ava, Terra gave her a grin. 

ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ YOU’VE GOT A LOOK LIKE YOU WANNA ASK SOMETHING, KIDDO! HOPE I’M NOT TOTALLY OFF

ᕙ( •̀ ◡ •́ )ᕗ NAME’S TERRA, BY THE WAY, NICE TO MEETCHA!

“It was crazy,” Riku agreed, looking back to Ventus, “But, no, tell me more about driving the mopeds? I really, really want the chance to drive one in the game. Those things are crazy, could you imagine if they were real?”

Ventus nodded, enthusiastically explaining to the other teens what that had been like again, the older teens enraptured as the thirteen year old explained that how loud of a noise it made, and how fast it was, and then Terra went off this ramped slope and they were in the air and–!

Ava smiled at Terra, “My name is Ava. I know this isn’t going to make any sense, but Amaina and Alter Ego, the Templar, they’ve asked me to check in on people who might be having trouble with the game? It reflects what I do for work in the real world. We’re not advertising my role in that, mostly to let people relax around me, but you were pointed out as someone I should check on, and I didn’t want you to feel like I was trying to manipulate you by not being clear about my intentions… that said?” she gestured to the rest of the town, past where the group was primarily hanging out, “Would you take a walk with me?”

ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ HA, POPULAR NAME THESE DAYS! BUT WHEN ONE WORKS, IT WORKS--THE KIND OF NAME THAT YOU CAN SAY CONFIDENTLY, KNOWING WHO YOU ARE.

For a moment Terra tilted his head at the teen, before chuckling softly and popping back into his full-sized appearance, giving her a nod as he took the invitation to walk. “Figure it’ll be a bit until I come by here in-game, so why not? It’s always nice to chat in an interesting place.”

He gave her a small shrug. “And maybe the details don’t make sense to me, because I just don’t know the context, but if you’re familiar with most of our Game Masters? I’ve known ‘Zo too long to be that surprised by the wisdom of youth.” Or at least the intelligence of them. 

Walking a bit away from the town center, Terra gave Ava an amused side-eye. “This about when Alter Ego checked on us after the first death? They did seem a little worried.”

“Worried for good reason. This sort of game? How real it feels, how we’ve chosen to manipulate our minds through it, what we’re asking the players to experience while not having full control of our own minds and wills… It’s the type of environment that, if we don’t take care of the people involved in it? Could accidentally destroy someone.” Ava said, the two leaving the group as they walked down the streets of Clock Town.

The town had been designed to feel ominous and unsettling, a thick fog making it easy to imagine someone hiding in the many corners and turns of the alley and buildings, the roads twisting and winding in a way that suggested the town was almost mazelike in its structure. 

But during the break sessions, the fog was lifted, the sun allowed to come out. And in that sunlight, it was just a nice, stone-based town, pleasant to walk through as the voices of the group laughed and discussed in the distance. It made for a calm, easy walk as Ava laughed lightly, “And we’re doing all of this, risking all of this, for a friend who loves the world and people and existing among all of us with all of herself. Letting her draw in this community that she’s mostly manifested on ideals of experiencing beautiful moments in earnest. Her ideas of ‘beautiful’ vast and wide enough to include the beauty of its sadder parts. Wanting to know all of us, what we live through, what she herself has yet to personally experience, a little better… and I agree. She’s correct, this whole thing is a beautiful experience, in its own right. She has created beauty, inviting everyone to enjoy a nightmare together.”

“But we must be careful.” Ava said with a small sigh, “Far more mundane fantasies then this can cause harm to the vulnerable… Alter Ego informed me that you cautioned Amaina if she’d be willing to put the character she is playing through emotional turmoil. And they informed me that you said you were biased in this question. Could I ask what you meant?”

Terra nodded easily. He was, of course, someone well-accustomed to trauma and tragedy. “Prof used to get real pedantic when any of us’d call psychic space ‘fake’, urged us to call it the psychic world and the physical world, instead of fake and real. Some of that really is pedantry in word usage, but he is right for strict definitions. We may not bleed and bruise for real in here, but what we go through is just as real as anything when it comes to, like, reacting to the experience.”

Chuckling a little, Terra laced his fingers behind his head. “I dunno if ‘cautioned’ is really right, but I get why you folks are being careful. Like you said--Amaina-chan set this whole thing up in part to experience things she hasn’t, or couldn’t any other way. She wants to understand the pain and fear of a nightmare. When Alter Ego asked us if we were alright, Amaina answered so quickly I wasn’t sure if she was being honest with herself, so I posed a way to frame the question that could be a way to think it through differently. I agree that she shouldn’t fully traumatize herself just for the hells of it, but if she fully separates herself from the game, then…well, she’s failed in her goal, right? I thought that considering things from her character’s perspective might let her think more about what she’s feeling as the player, but I think she really is just fine so far. Which, good!”

Terra gave Ava another amused look. “I think Alt-E was worried I was considering our characters as full separate people though, which would be concerning, and which I admitted to having a bias towards. Because, like…” He snorted a laugh. “Okay, a lot of us are strangers here. Anybody told you about the ‘Nobody’ thing, or should I start from scratch?”

“I’m aware of a little,” Ava admitted, “But not much. For full transparency? I am aware you were a torturer in Luminary, part of the Indentured program. I am aware that the empaths in that facility created what I would consider, from a purely psychological standards, dissociative identity disorders, but what I know the empaths around me consider from a empath-based supernatural perspective, extremely well-developed constructs to the point of those constructs gaining a certain level of control of the mind, creating a certain level of psychological independence from their empath creators. I am aware you are one of those individuals.”

“...there’s an existential risk, in asking someone like you to ‘pretend’ to be someone else.” Ava said, “It compels the question of ‘how much can one pretend before one has recreated the circumstances that I myself was born from’. You can understand why Alter Ego was so quick to call the alarm on you, I hope. You’re one of the most at risk individuals here, to do something like this and be harmed by even just the concepts we’re playing with.”

Tilting his arm away to see her clearly, Terra blinked at Ava for a moment. “...geez, kiddo, I wouldn’t call that ‘a little’. You seem damn well-informed to me.”

Looking forward again, Terra grimly smiled as he idly observed the quaint stone buildings around them. Lotta blind corners in Clock Town. Lots of balconies and railings around…easy to get the drop on people. 

“...about six, seven years ago, my Somebody, Aqua, lost her husband,” Terra said after a moment. “He was murdered by our supervisors, a truly horrific event for our whole family. His name was Terra.”

“I guess that doesn’t really mitigate risk, but I’m pretty used to playing pretend,” Terra said, shooting Ava a softer smile than his grim one. “And what we’re doing with our characters doesn’t resemble the process of making a Nobody to me, or really any other construct. Maybe if this game went on for years, we’d have something to talk about, but for now? It does just feel like playing hardcore pretend.”

“I hoped you’d say something like that.” Ava admitted, “When Amaina said she wanted to invite you all to play this, she seemed particularly excited for you to play, Terra. I don’t know if you’re aware, but she’s very fond of you, you’ve come up in conversation before. She seems very keen on the idea of you in particular having a good time.”

“We considered being stern and insisting your group couldn’t participate. Again, because of how in particular you all are vulnerable to the pitfalls we’re working against… but it almost felt cruel, after seeing how excited she was to play with you all, to exclude you from the game, just because certain aspects of it could be more triggering for you than others.” Ava said, “We wanted to give you all the opportunity. To not exclude… that said?”

Ava turned to Terra, giving him a calm, but earnest look, “If you find that it gets more difficult with time? Please reach out to me. Call for a break. Tell someone. This is meant to be fun, and we don’t want to hurt you, or the others.”

“Oh?” Terra raised an eyebrow, eyes widening a bit in surprise. “She is? Know she enjoys using me for eye-candy, but I didn’t know she wanted me to play so much. Aw, that’s pretty cute!”

Letting out a flattered laugh, he dropped his arms and shook his head a little. “Well, I appreciate the invitation even more now that I know it was a point of contention. Would’ve been a lot of arguing if the kids heard ‘Ze was working on a huge project like this and only he was allowed in.”

Returning the earnest look with a sincere one, he gave Ava a short bow. “‘Ppreciate you all lookin’ out for us, kiddo. I’m sure I’ll tap out if things get too much.” His grin turned sheepish as he scratched the back of his head. “Might steal those words to remind my kids too. The Heart Trio are resilient, but they like to jump right into the fray without double-checking themselves, sometimes; Xi might just be too excited to go on an adventure like this to wanna stop, Mars is too competitive to even entertain ‘losing’ if he’s starting to have a bad time and…”

Terra’s expression pinched a little. Glancing back at the town square guiltily. 

Ava saw the guilt. She couldn’t taste it, which was a bit odd. That was one thing that she was struggling to adapt to, that she couldn’t taste the others emotions in the air. She had been able to do so in the pokemon world, and so far Alter Ego, who she had confided the oddness of the discrepancy with, had guessed that being connected in the hivemind-like scenario there had made it easier for her to fake an impulse that she had lived with her whole life.

Here? She just couldn’t do it. Too disconnected from the others. Not able to ‘taste’ when there was no physicality involved.

She considered what Terra had told her–she had already guessed that the Nobodies would have trauma and tragedy from the situation in their lives, and had been sadly unsurprised to hear Terra’s--but how he reacted to the weight of his family, the clear concern he had for them, including one unmentioned…

“Have you ever considered seeking therapy?” Ava asked Terra, “While I’m well versed in navigating trauma and addiction, I’m also a relationship therapist, and that includes familial relationships. It can be hard to be a father even in ideal circumstances, and you’ve been doing it in far less desirable positions. It might be soothing to talk about it with a professional, if nothing else.”

Terra understood why Lauriam had opted to play the game. That didn’t mean he didn’t worry about his eldest, though. 

(And while he wanted Ventus to respect his limits too, Terra just…didn’t know them. He was still getting to know his son, the person he was, and while of course he still felt protective, he couldn’t judge what kind of protection Ventus actually needed yet. It’d feel insulting and delusional to try and say whether Ventus should play the game or not.)

Letting out a little huff, Terra shrugged. “‘Zo’s buddy said she could recommend a therapist once we got to Usott, and from that Even’s mentioned the idea of us taking up that offer. Little hard when half of us aren’t in Usott yet, though, and while I respect Even’s ideas, I’m not sure how thrilled some of us’d be having someone poke at us like that.”

“I’ll think about your offer, though,” he flashed Ava a grin, “Dunno how nuanced I can get about, man, I’m worried about my kids, but the mind always surprises.”

“It really does,” Ava agreed, giving a little sigh… before she gave Terra a small wink, “Okay, soooo like, you’re good? We’re good? I’m gonna go back to hanging out with people.”

ᕙ( > ᗜ < )ᕗ WE’RE GOOD! I’VE GOT A BUNCH OF STORIES TO CATCH UP ON BEFORE WE END FOR THE NIGHT ANYWAY.

ᕙ( •̀ ◡ •́ )ᕗ SEE YOU AROUND, AVA.

Or for just a little longer as they walked back to the group.

-

“Along with her yogurt ice cream with the works, can I get, mmmm…” Kaito looked over the menu, humming a bit, “Eh, who am I kidding, I just want some protein. Can I get the burger, but, can I get it with two slabs of–yeah? Cool! And the works! Thank you!” 

“You’ve been in good moods during our requested sessions before,” Miss Crystal said when Kaito handed her the long cup of yogurt ice cream, chocolate chips and frozen pieces of fruit mixed inside as he chomped his own burger, the two walking away from the restaurant as they walked through the park. “But this is a little strange, even for you. You’re usually a little grumpy when you need an emergency session, if you don’t mind my pointing it out, darling.”

Kaito had given up on convincing Miss Crystal to stop using pet names with him as he wiped some of the sauce from the side of his mouth, shrugging, “‘M not gwu–sorry,” He said, swallowing properly, “I’m not grumpy when we do our sessions.”

“I think the last session we had you called me the most aggravating person in the world.” Miss Crystal smirked as they trailed along the pond’s edge, a group of kids running by with wind fans.

“Cause you can be,” Kaito huffed, “You do it on purpose. Why are all of my therapists so into mind games and upsetting me, huh? Aren’t you guys supposed to be aloof and constant professionals?”

“If you wanted aloof and constant professional, you wouldn’t have come back by our third session. Not that I could have faked it if you had wanted a more serious therapist. I am just a person, at the end of the day, and my methods work for some patients and are absolutely atrocious to others. You enjoy a therapist that doesn’t feel inhuman in their interactions. Same as your husband desperately needed an expert that treated him seriously, constantly. It works for some and not others,” Miss Crystal explained, humming happily at her next scoop of yogurt, “Perfect temperature for a warm spring day. I’ll miss the chill of winter, but the warmer months has it perks.”

“Ugh, no way, I am more than done with winter.” Kaito said, nose wrinkling in a genuine grimace, “I like it a little sometimes, because it’s still kinda fantastical and beautiful to me. But it’s sooooo damn cold, and it lasts too long. And my little Miya doesn’t like it either. Kokichi is devastated about it.”

“Awww, sweet thing. Well, as much as I want to hear about that, Dr. Mariah told me that you told her that I was going to end up telling her anything you told me today–”

“So damn unprofessional.” Kaito muttered, finishing up his burger.

“--which means that you think that I’ll need some assistance with some particularly supernatural aspect of what’s bothering you. Yes?”

Kaito glanced around the busy park, before gesturing to an empty park bench. Miss Crystal nodded, and the two went to go sit down. 

It was a beautiful day at the park. The sun was shining, the water of the pond sparkling beneath it, as a wind blew through, encouraging families to come out with kites and wind fans and picnic baskets to take advantage of the warm, windy day. It made Kaito want to come back later with the kids. It was a good day just waiting to be taken advantage of.

“So,” Kaito sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Did she tell you about the game we’re all playing?”

“I got the basics, yes.”

“I had a lot of fun. I mean, a lot of fun. I was in a great mood for all of that,” Kaito said, looking back as he rested on the back of the bench, watching big, puffy clouds roll by, “Even during the game, when I couldn’t remember it was a game? I was just… constantly in this good mood. In a good mood working for this, like, woodsman guy, and then there was this brief bit of terror where he tried to kill me, but even then… there was this sense of excitement? Of playful wonder. Like even the character version of me wasn’t entirely taking it seriously.”

“Wasn’t all of that the intention?” Miss Crystal asked, aiming for some melting whip cream at the side of the cup, “It’s a game. You had fun. Is it guilt for having fun that we’re out here, my boy?”

“Nah, I don’t feel guilty… it’s all make believe. And I have a bunch of things keeping me safe for all that. Kokichi’s given me a thousand tools to never let me really get caught up in some other Empath’s control. I have a feeling any of that worked at all because my defenses knew it was supposed to and held back. If I was in real danger, I think they’d literally just wake me up.” Kaito mused, smiling warmly as the breeze brought over the scent of flowers nearby, “My ‘Kichi spoiling me. And also, I’ve always had a mean imagination. I daydream about violence all the time. Sometimes I feel guilty about why someone is starring in a violence daydream I’m having, but I never feel bad about the daydream itself. It’s not actually happening. It’s just in my head.”

“Okay, so…” Miss Crystal looked over at him, bringing her thin legs up the bench and under her as she gave him an appraising look, “What’s the issue then? You had a good time. You didn’t feel guilty about your actions. You felt safe… what am I missing, Kaito?”

“It felt familiar.” Kaito said, “...it’s never felt familiar before.”

Miss Crystal frowned, “Mmmm, I think I may need you to explain more.”

“I’ve been abused by an empath my whole life,” Kaito said, straightening up and sighing, shrugging, “And it’s been tough to kind of reconcile with that, because it’s hard to remember that that’s happened. I don’t have any memories of Head Secretary Tengan visiting me in my mind. My only empath memories are my Kokichi visiting me, which are magical and wonderful experiences. And I know that the ghost phobia thing is my body reacting to the memory of being invaded all the time, I’ve come to grips with that. But that’s still my body remembering. I don’t remember any of it. I don’t know what he did that stressed my body out so much, I can only ever guess. But my body did react.”

“This was… like that.” Kaito said, “But the opposite. My body was just reacting to something that I wasn’t entirely conscious was happening. But this time? It felt familiar. Like I had experienced something just like that before. This playful feeling of being caught up in a dream, with lots of other people, feeling like I was putting on some sort of performance and hoping that the people I couldn’t see watching were happy with what I did for the game… my body reacted like it stepped back into an old muscle memory. My joy and playfulness and excitement… familiar.”

“...it felt like when I used to talk to Atua,” Kaito said, “Back when it was fun. And not just me filling in blank spaces that used to be filled with… so much. Voices and hands and eyes, always watching… like I was playing with this ‘being’ who was so much more than me. Godlike in how expansive it was. So many people, but somehow they were all just one person, and all of their eyes were on me, and we were all playing a game…”

“...oh, Kaito.” Miss Crystal said softly, reaching over to place a hand on his shoulder as she noticed the tears beading in the corners of his eyes, “I’ll admit, I still don’t know what you’re referring to. But alright, I see what’s bothering you. You’re not disturbed by what happened last night. You’re remembering something painful.”

“Yep. Yeah.” Kaito nodded, laughing lightly as he brought up his shoulder to rub the side of his face on, looking a touch sheepish, “Yeah. Last night was great, it was amazing getting to do something so fun and fantastical with my friends and loved ones and a bunch of cool strangers. But… but when I was a kid? Everything that happened with Atua? That’s the stuff I remember. Why I thought everyone was right to call me crazy. There were just these people in my head, who would come and go and they’d… it felt like I was adored. Like I had a lot of friends, sometimes, or like I was being well looked after by a parent I couldn’t see. Sometimes it was scary, but mostly it was fun. And the only word a young version of myself could give it was ‘god’. That the people in my head was god talking to me. That it proved he loved me.”

“Ah, now I understand. The voices.” Miss Crystal frowned, “... I still would like to keep you on the medication you’re on now, even with this new information. Your other symptoms have been clearing up–”

“I know, I know. I feel good. I don’t hate myself anymore. I’m not pissed at everyone anymore. It’s been easier to regulate my emotions, ever since you put me on the anti-psych meds. I know.” Kaito nodded, “But I think the voices were real. That Atua, for lack of another name to give them, was real. I think it might have been Flora? And that’s why it all stopped when the lessons stopped. Because that’s when Tengan stopped dosing me with pollen.”

“Which made me, not, like, a friend, or a son, to any of those people.” Kaito said, resting his elbows on his knees, gripping his hands tightly together, “...it made me a pet. That’s literally what Flora call humans that they’re not planning to actively abuse to death. They’re pets. I was a pet. A pet flora were playing with while Tengan slowly converted me into a seedling. And…”

Kaito closed his eyes, grimacing as more tears spilled down his cheeks, “...and why did they do that to me? It wasn’t harmless. That ruined my life. It ruined my life. I lost my inheritance. I was declared too crazy to risk being allowed to rule in front of the entire kingdom. I felt like a monster. A wild, stupid animal that my family was ashamed of, or somehow even worse, a kid so desperate for attention that he made up talking to god, sexually assaulted his brother, screamed and destroyed furniture, ruined his whole fucking reputation and future just wanting to be ‘special’... why did they do that to me? I had felt loved by those people. That love defined me, I dedicated myself to Atua because of how good that love felt. And I was willing to forgive how that love had ruined my life back then, because I thought Atua was with me even when the voices faded.”

“But those people, the voices, the hands, the eyes… they weren’t Atua, and they weren’t still with me after everything happened. They came, they fucked around with a kid like he was some cute fucking puppy for a bit, and then they forgot about and abandoned me the second I wasn’t fun anymore.” Kaito said, gripping his eyes closed tight, rubbing his knuckles over his forehead, “...Empaths and Flora ruined my life. I feel like I should hate them. All of them. But they’re my family… I couldn’t hate my family now any more than I could hate my family back then, when I was just grappling with the abusers I could actually remember. And obviously my family now deserves it way less than my other family did. It’s just… still a lot to grapple with. And I needed to talk to someone about it. Because last night brought it all to the surface for me.”

“...heh. Wish I could talk to Maki about it. But I’m worried she’ll resent it. She’s been dealing with that same problem with me this whole time. Being part of the group that ruined her life.” Kaito smile tiredly, opening his eyes, “It’s all so hard… I wonder if my ‘Kichi feels the same way, sometimes? I worried he would when I first married him. Hating a Luminary that had forced himself into his life, after Luminaries had spent his whole life trying to take his home from him. God, we’re all such a mess…”

“Mmmmm, I think calling your family situation a ‘mess’ is maybe over selling it.” Miss Crystal said, finishing her yogurt, “Yes, it’s complicated and a little difficult. But you all are coping with that difficulty just fine. Same way I know you’re coping with this just fine, despite how raw it must feel right now. Do you truly see Kokichi or your daughter as the same people who hurt you growing up?”

“...no.” Kaito sighed, shaking his head, “If you put it strictly in the abstract, sure, ‘empaths’ and ‘flora’ hurt me. But my ‘Kichi and my little sweetbun? No. It’s not equivalent.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that train of thought affecting you as much as you’re suggesting. I think you’re just coping with an already bitter memory having sudden new context. It’s always bothered you most, that the atrocities that happened to you were mostly because your abusers felt it would be a good time to do so.” Miss Crystal sighed as Kaito nodded. True. “And you’ve just emotionally confirmed for yourself that that happened again. Of course it would upset you.  It’s upsetting. And you’re… whaaaat?”

Kaito sighed, rolling his eyes, “Allowed to be upset. The point isn’t to not be upset. It’s to cope well with the feeling. The emotions are never going to stop, I’m just getting better at navigating them.”

“Ooooh-hohohoho, there is my grumpy Kaito again. Very good.” Miss Crystal chuckled as Kaito gave her some heavy side eye, “Yes, you’re allowed to be upset. You’re allowed to feel hurt, and angry, that terrible things happened to you, and you’re allowed to feel offended that the reasons for those things weren’t more profound then someone thought it would be fun.”

“You’re also allowed to still be happy that you get to experience that same communal, fantastical, playful feeling again with people you can trust more now,” Miss Crystal said, “Same as you’re allowed to love the people who belong to the same communities that hurt you, same as you’re allowed to enjoy activities that had been used to hurt you. You’re allowed to love your Flora daughter, you’re allowed to drool over the floor your empath husband walks on–though I’m still poking Dr. Mariah about exactly how ‘worship’y’ that gets sometimes–”

“Can a guy not be allowed to just find his nearly godlike husband really fucking hot?” Kaito grumbled.

“--and you’re allowed to want your other husband to harm you using the same games that past partners used to abuse you, but this time for fun. It’s all allowed, Kaito. You’re not sick or strange or wrong for any of it. These are normal ways to feel. Feelings are just complicated, that’s all. Complicated is normal.”

“Complicated is normal…” Kaito echoed, staring out at the pond… before he let his shoulders relax, “...thanks Miss Crystal.”

“You’re quite alright, my sweet baby pumpkin munchkin–”

“Auuuuuuugh.”

-

There were a lot of logistics Amaina and her little helpers had sorted through to get the game going, but there was one that was just an unfortunate fact they had to live with. Timezones. In order to play the game while everyone was asleep, it meant that there was a decently narrow window of time where that was feasible, right between when the Novans--the farthest group east--would wake up, and, well…

When the Luminaries in NGP, the farthest group west, would go to sleep. In the worst case scenario with timing, it’d mean that the Novans would just be awake two hours early, though considering the group that was playing, most of them tended to sleep in anyway. In the worst case for the capital Luminaries…sensibly, it’d mean they’d just stay up a little later. And for most of them, that was the case. 

But for one, who already had a notoriously horrible sleep schedule, and was taking his role as one of the game proctors seriously, it meant that he was starting off his night not asleep with a stretch of intense concentration, and then had the analytics of that session to pour over immediately after. 

Resulting in?

As he poured over the latest inventory sheets for his case, Ienzo nursed his coffee. He tended to look tired and out of sorts on a normal day, but the tender discoloration under his eyes looked even worse today. His attention to the papers unwavering, but in such a manner that those not accustomed to Ienzo would be baffled as to how.

Ienzo, on most days, would probably have taken his work and his coffee in the housing they had been given, since the castle library was fairly strict about any liquid that wasn’t water being around their books. But today he was out in one of the outdoor seating areas for the castle pseudo-market, not necessarily enjoying the sun and air, but more just…

“Nnnnnngh,” Luis groaned into his arms from the other side of the small table they were on, shaded by a sun umbrella. “Think ‘m dying.”

The group wasn’t taking ‘turns’ watching Luis. But there was an unspoken understanding that if Luis was leaving the house these days, someone needed to be with him, as he struggled to find a new balance between constantly drunk and constantly detoxing. And when the group had found out the baffling estimate from the lawyers how much longer this case was going to take, it was agreed that if they could get it? Luis might need more professional help than battling his own impulses on a day by day basis. 

So, Luis was out here ready to meet Valen, Luis ready to take her advice on looking into a rehab. And Ienzo was out here with Luis, so that he wasn’t out there alone. And both were trying to cure themselves with coffee that was– “just fucki’ng water, I swear,” Luis grumbled, peeking at the coffee in front of him before sighing, resting his head in his arms again. “How do these royal types have access to the best pastries you could ask for and somehow the most shit coffee you can imagine? How does that work?”

“It could be tradition spurring from a sign of luxury and wealth,” Ienzo muttered off-hand, not even looking up from his papers. “Unless you live by water, and even then there’s a whole industry needed for water refinement, having access to excess is a luxury. One would think that, without much water, coffee, as a drink made by filtration, would be intensely saturated to use as little water as possible, but in the heart of the wealthiest sector of the wealthiest city? Perhaps having the drink be mainly water was a flex, and the tradition of this being seen as the ‘proper’ way, ie. the way elites drink, to prepare coffee has endured.”

For a moment, Ienzo sighed, rubbing his fingertips lightly over his tired eyes. “We could ask Miss Tonberry for access to the press and grounds when we return, and then make an absolutely sludge of caffeine.” There were no Even and Aeleus here to nudge him away from subsisting off pure chemicals this time. He could absolutely make the sort of drink that’d let you stay up for days. 

“That sounds good,” Luis agreed, rubbing his forehead against the hard edge of his wrist bone… before one of his eyes peeked open. “...feel a disturbance.”

Lord and Lady Prud were in that delicate balance of ‘Not exactly New Money but still too new for Old Money’ when it came to their station as a family. The Pruds should have been a wealthy elite family, if hierarchy was to be preserved and admirably sustained in the proper way, which was a perfectly respectable station in life to be! A wealthy elite being as high as any peasant born citizen should be expected–or perhaps allowed, some royal families would argue–to go! But Lord Prud’s grandfather, having been unsatisfied simply being wealthier than most anyone he would have ever known, had wanted a royal title for his family as well, and had scandalously essentially bribed King Kaiden the second–Kaito’s Great-Grandfather–into allowing him to have one. 

If that wasn’t scandalous enough, Lady Prud’s family came from the wealthy elite… but only just barely. A wealthy child of a wealthy family, and a failed actress who the family had very nearly had to beg Lord Prud’s family to accept into a marriage contract despite her public and embarrassing background, a history so recent and fresh that the young married couple were only two years shy of it, and still felt the sting of needing to prove they were entirely fit to be among the noble ruling class stationed in and around the castle, despite no one having made a comment on it in some time now.

They always wore the most conservative, up to date fashionable clothing. They collected all the desirable jewelry that showed how established and well off they were to others in the many social parties they went to. They knew all the local gossip and knew exactly which important person felt a certain way about said gossip, which of course was, if asked, how the couple felt about it too. They shook hands with all the right people and spent time in all the right places.

And, like anyone who dedicated their whole lives to living ‘correctly’ in the name of proving themselves to some specific ideal… they gatekept the shit out of everyone else who faltered, proudly and publicly. Which was why the young couple, under a paper parasol that their servant held for them a step behind, had only watched Ienzo and Luis a moment before walking over. Lady Prud hanging off of Lord Prud’s arm like she was half a moment of fainting in shock as Lord Prud whispered, entirely to Ienzo, “Good day. Lord Seizure, your reputation is ahead of you, so forgive the lack of pleasantry in being asked your name. I am Lord Prud, this is my wife, Lady Eliza.”

“Good day, Lord Seizure,” Lady Eliza said, her nose just shy of wrinkling in distaste.

Great. Lovely.

Luis’ warning giving him a moment to breathe--ugh breathing sucked--Ienzo looked up at the approaching nobles, able to pick up on the bad vibes as they came closer. Maybe he should’ve put up an illusion, gotten the nobles and their servant to just pass them by, but by the time Ienzo even got his mind considering that, it was too late. 

A real shame. 

Politely bowing his head to the greeting, Ienzo dryly responded, “Good day, Lord and Lady Prude. As aware as I am of the difficulty the modern tongue has with traditionally Luminous names, I am happy to introduce myself as Lord Ienzo to you both.” He’d just…leave Luis out of this. Let his uncle skate by under the radar; one of them deserved some luck. “I hope you’ve been able to enjoy the fair weather we’ve been blessed with this day.”

“Lord Ienzo,” Lord Prud agreed, nodding his head again, still pointedly just looking at Ienzo as he glanced around to see if they’d be overheard, before leaning in and whispering, “I don’t mean to alarm you, my lord, but… I’ve become concerned that due to your recent history, you may be unaware that your help is putting you in a position of public mockery. I could not bring myself to walk past while a member of an otherwise old, esteemed family was being so… blatantly disrespected.”

Uuuuuuuuuuuuug--

“Ah, I see,” Ienzo said, voice naturally soft but making no effort to be as deliberately quiet as Lord Prud was. Sighing, he gave Luis a flat look. “Mr. Dareka, I have politely asked that you would at least warn me before donning me in clown apparel. It’s really not my aesthetic.”

Ienzo tilted his head a little. “I don’t think I’d make much of a good court jester regardless of the public perception of what such visuals imply. I’m not nearly talented enough in the realm of humor.”

Luis, much less familiar with the exact form of snobbery Ienzo was currently dealing with, lifted his head and blinked at him in tired confusion. “...um, sorry m’lord? I think your outfit looks fine though…?” Luis said, thinking better than to say he hadn’t picked Ienzo’s outfit out. Was that something he was supposed to be doing, as Ienzo’s servant? Didn’t nobility pick their own clothes?? 

But, as Lady Prud’s slightly wrinkled nose became a full on wrinkle, Luis saw the servant catch his eye from behind them, and made small, patting motions against his chest and chin. Luis blinked at the gesture, before uncertainly forcing his body to sit up straighter, the servant nodding. Ooooooh…

But despite Luis attempting to sit up straight at the table, Lady Prud was not satisfied, as she glanced distastefully at Luis, before looking back to Ienzo with a stern grimace. “You know how the help conducts themselves is a reflection of their masters. And I don’t appreciate your sarcasm when my husband is attempting to rescue you. If you keep allowing yourself to be seen like this in public, people are going to question the queen’s wisdom in allowing you to return to your noble line… if it’s wisdom at all.”

“Now, Eliza, let’s be kind,” Lord Prud whispered to her, Eliza’s nose wrinkling more.

“M’lady, we were literally just sitting here,” Luis frowned, not liking how she was talking to his nephew, “No one needed rescuing.”

Neither of the Lord or Lady reacted to Luis. Pointedly looking to Ienzo, waiting for Luis to be corrected.

{Don’t worry about it, Luis--we’re just dealing with a couple assholes for a moment.}

“My apologies, I did not intend to come off sarcastically,” Ienzo said just as flatly, though he did muster the energy--and will to care--enough that, to said confrontational assholes, there would be a thrung of innocent sincerity to Ienzo’s voice, lidded eyes hinting more at being widened and doe-y. “Since you seem to be oh-so familiar with my history, it would be a bit odd to think I would lie straight to your faces, much less while you’re graciously taking time out of your days to extend a helping hand.”

“As for how my fellows reflect on me, and subsequently reflect on Her Grace, perhaps call me naive, but I think people can form their own informed opinions on the queen’s wisdom and judgement, especially in regard to observing people partaking in the most ancient of traditions--basking in sunlight.”

Luis gagged. Vomiting a little in his mouth, quickly grabbing his cup to have something to spit the bile out on. Sitting up had been a mistake as he curled back onto the table. Oh god. He didn’t even know if he was still drunk or was too sober. He hadn’t drunk last night but had drunk a lot the morning before. It was all starting to feel the same.

The Lord and Lady both gave Luis horrified, disgusted looks at that… before turning back to Ienzo. “Basking is… certainly a word for it,” Lord Prud said dryly. 

“Indentured are ruining this country. Did you know that?” Lady Prud said, looking around nervously, like she was afraid to be overheard, before glaring at Ienzo, “And what you’re doing? Suggesting Indentured can be nobility? It was bad enough hearing that Prince Kaito took an Indentured to be a concubine in Dicea, at least concubines are still technically service positions. But Indentured can’t be more than what they are. They were already the lowest of us, that’s how you end up in the program to begin with, but everyone knows going through the program makes you fundamentally ‘un-person’. Anyone compelled to obey cannot pretend to be a functioning, independent member of society, let alone a leader of that society…”

“And you agree with me,” Lady Prud said, her tone suddenly taking on an authoritative tone as she stood up straighter, smirking slightly as she ordered, “And you will say so, now, Ienzo.”

“Eliza.” Lord Prud gasped at his wife.

Unnoticed by the nobles, Ienzo’s lidded gaze hardened into a glare. 

UUUUUUUUUUGH!

“I’m afraid there are several issues with your argument, Lady Eliza,” Ienzo began, voice almost icy in its clinicalness. “If we are talking about recent history, Indentureds ran this country. The recent economic struggles Luminary is facing, on top of trying to recover from the flash famine, is entirely because after the metals boom ended our primary internal business was the sold labor of Indentured Servants. Unless, of course, you were implying the fallacious idea that that labor itself, regardless of who was performing it, brings ruin. We all remember the embarrassment of House Mondelay, how in a fit of madness the House fired all of their service staff, subsequently leading to arrests in accordance to the old private safety laws, often nicknamed the ‘beauty laws’ due to the premises literally overflowing with waste and detritus, which service staff are employed to handle.”

“If we were talking ancient history, as in pre-Momota history, that would imply some, frankly, surprisingly pro-Oligarch views from one clearly so concerned with modernity,” he continued, “Which in contrast leads to another issue in that argument, principally being that Indentureds do not exist anymore, as in accordance with Queen Kaede’s laws. Something that doesn’t exist cannot affect extant things, I think we’d all agree. Now, there are indeed people who went through the Indentured Program, which no longer is an institution in our country, but considering that ‘un-person’ isn’t even a word, I think that may speak for itself on why that argument needs no further entertainment.”

He smirked lightly at the woman. “I am aware I can be a bit long winded, so I apologize if you were waiting for me to say ‘so, now, Ienzo’. Though I do believe patience to be a virtue.”

Lady Prud’s smirk waivered… then her face started to burn red as she realized the order she had given wasn’t turning out like she had thought it would, as she stammered, “W-well, so you don’t have obedience conditioning, fine. But the others are just as detrimental–”

“Eliza,” Lord Prud whispered to her, glancing around in heated embarrassment as he practically hissed, “Are you trying to get us labeled Pro-Byakuya? Control yourself. Um, please excuse us, Lord Ienzo, we will be going now.” He pulled his wife away, their servant at their heels as the two whisper-argued with each other.

Luis looked up tiredly. “...did that shrew just try triggering conditioning?”

“Good day, Lord and Lady Prude,” Ienzo excused dismissively, looking back to his papers.

Before he scoffed. “Likely. It’s not like we didn’t know people haven’t stopped using it just because the contracts were nullified.” Head tilted down, he smirked again. “There’s something satisfying knowing she’ll run into trouble trying to do that to anyone else too now. It’s always nice dashing a snob’s expectations.”

“...you know? I think if we had been anywhere else, in any other context? I mighta slugged her for that,” Luis grumbled, laying his head back down, “...I guess sorry I’m drawing eyes to you, Ienzo. I know you don’t mind, lad, but maybe I should go wait in the bathroom or something until she gets here. I really can’t sit up, I’ll vomit.”

“Instead we get to play the form of spar much more common in the castle. Wheee~” Ienzo spun a sarcastic finger as he rolled his eyes, before he looked back over and frowned at Luis. “Don’t apologize for that. I’d draw eyes regardless, people like that will come up with any reason regardless of what one does. If you are feeling ill enough to need the bathroom, I can help you over, but otherwise don’t subject yourself to hiding away from the opinions of mites.”

After a moment, Ienzo’s eyebrows scrunched. “...I really hope I don’t accidentally out anyone else, if someone else tries to use orders against me. I didn’t consider that.”

“Heh. Mites.” Luis chuckled, blearily looking up at Ienzo from the safety of half his vision being covered by his arms. “And how do you mean? Out who?”

Ienzo sighed softly. “The contracts have been annulled; that means conditioning shouldn’t work anymore. However, everyone knows that isn’t true, so everyone who is an ex-Indentured has conditioning. Therefore, it’s beneficial for people to hide the fact that they were Indentured, except for a subset of people who have found employment or safety on the sole fact they’re ex-Indentured, with all that entails. I truly hope a great deal of people have discovered that their conditioning has ‘worn off’ by now, but for anyone in the position of having to pretend that it’s still working until that knowledge is more public? Anyone flaunting a lack of conditioning, especially someone this week’s grain of the gossip mill as an ex-Indentured, might expose that fact more quickly.”

“That’ll get around one way or another, too many people involved to even consider it a secret anymore.” Luis sighed, closing his eyes. “And I think it’d be good if that got out more. I imagine there’s lots of folk out there who haven't tried defying an order in years, avoiding how it feels to try. Some folks probably won’t believe it till they hear other people are defying orders and not choking on their own throats for it.”

Luis suddenly brought up his head, looking around, before sighing, “Sorta hoped for a moment Aerith had seen all of that. I’m having some trouble convincing her you’re not some secret, nefarious abuser. Apologise for that too, by the way. It never occurred to me before how many people assume if a servant’s notably damaged, there’s something going on with the person they’re serving, good or bad. I’m apparently a massive red flag for you.”

“It will be, but I can still hope for it to be someone’s choice to be more candid about their own situation as long as possible,” Ienzo admitted before he left out a soft almost-laugh of a huff. “Aerith doesn’t need to have a good opinion of me, and honestly I’m happy that she’s looking out for dangerous situations and the people in them. I’d rather spare the effort trying to convince her all the signs she’s seeing are wrong just for our unique case, than contribute to a blind eye in the future.”

Ienzo’s expression softened. “I just want to help you feel better, Uncle Luis, even if all that means is moral support. Doing that is more important to me than caring how it looks to other people.”

“I know lad,” Luis smiled tiredly, “...this rehab idea. It’s a good idea, yeah? I’m not going to… be a liability? If I end up somewhere?”

And before he gave Ienzo a chance to answer, he added hurriedly, “If you all need to go, and I’m stuck somewhere, you can just go. I’ll catch up. I’m the best driver among us, even if you had weeks’ head start on me, I’d still probably end up finding you all on a road trying to fix a wheel or a thrown shoe. It’d be fine, I just… don’t want you all to be at risk, just cause I’m doing something unrelated.”

Ienzo gave Luis a scathingly flat look. “Unrelated. You’re unrelated to the ‘bringing the family together’ quest we’re on. That’s what you’re saying.”

Luis winced, even as he tried to grin sheepishly. “Come on now, let’s not turn that sharp tongue on me. I meant getting sober. Not… I can be drunk and we can still all get out of here. I just… I can’t figure out portions, but… you know what I meant, right?”

Ienzo just held his papers and glowered at Luis. “Drunk, sober, you’re our family and you’re with us no matter what, but that means we’re with you too, Luis. If I could make any guesses about bureaucracy, they tend to give underestimates, not over, so if we are going to be here for months?”

Some of the attitude did tone down there as Ienzo gave Luis a concerned look. “Then, if going through rehabilitation is something you want? We’re behind you all the way. Even if it means staying here longer. The last thing we’d want to do is put you at risk just to get on the road a little sooner.”

“That’s exactly the kind of support that’s nice to hear,” Valen hummed, giving Ienzo and Luis a bow and small smile as she approached their table. “Good morning, I hope I didn’t leave you two waiting too long.”

More surprising than Valen showing up for the exact purpose they were outside, was the tag-along at her side, Eimhin giving Ienzo a bright look before bowing to him and Luis. “Hello cousin, hello Mr. Dareka! Aunt Valen did tell me she was heading to a confidential meeting, so please don’t be worried about me sticking around long,” he laughed lightly, giving Luis an assuring look, “But if you were not otherwise busy today, Ienzo, I was hoping if we could spend some time together. I’d be more than delighted to procure some morning pastries in the meantime.”

Ienzo had just blinked in surprise at his cousin’s arrival, though he shuffled his papers together, put them back in their folder, and stood up. “Actually, that sounds like a wonderful plan if you wouldn’t mind an extra set of hands.” He gave Luis a small, fond look. “I don’t exactly need to sit in on your medical decisions, do I.”

Luis shook his head, a little grateful as Ienzo gave himself an out. He did appreciate what his nephew was saying, appreciated that he wasn’t being perceived as a burden. But Luis felt like harder to hear assurances were about to come from Valen, and he wanted some privacy as he tried to work out exactly how much of an effect this rehab thing was going to have on him and his family. “No, that’s alright. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

And then, remembering himself, he tacked on, “M’lord.”

“I’ll see you later, then.” And with a nod to Luis and Valen, Ienzo headed off with Eimhin. 

Rehab was notoriously awful. An ultimately good thing to do, and he had faith more on her qualifications as a healer that Valen wouldn’t even deign to bring up a rehab center that abused its patients, but the process just a nightmare to go through. But their family had been through nightmares before, and Ienzo wasn’t just trying to say comforting things for their own sake. He wasn’t about to abandon Luis to his trials, and no one else in their family would either. 

“I don’t mean this rudely, but are you alright, cousin?” Eimhin cut through Ienzo’s thoughts as he quietly spoke up. “You look as though you haven’t gotten enough sleep lately.”

“The frequent chorus of my life,” Ienzo drawled, before giving Eimhin a light look. “I suppose I look that way because it’s true. It’s nothing to worry about, I assure you; I simply got caught up with work for too many hours last night.”

Eimhin sighed, some of the princely air around the young man easing as he looked up with a put-upon expression. “Where have I heard that before… You and Maebh both.” Eyebrows arching up, his mouth strained at the edges in a grimace. “...Ienzo, please tell me you’ve had something other than coffee today.”

If Eimhin was drawing comparisons to his sister, Ienzo was suddenly drawing one to his fathers. He gave his cousin a slow blink. “...I’ve had something other than coffee today.”

“Nooooooo…” Eimhin softly moaned, tipping his head back. “Another one of them… Why? Alright. Alright!” Pumping himself up with a breath, Einhim put a hand on Ienzo’s shoulder, gaze focused with determination. “It might’ve not worked with my sister, but I will show you the glory of sweets, and it will remind you to eat regularly. Come, cousin, I will not be leaving this trip without putting in my due efforts!”

…it’s for family bonding, Ienzo, you can do it. 

Ugh. 

-

Spring was always such a relief in Usott. Sometimes it felt sudden, a quick breath of air that brightened the soul all at once and you could firmly declare that winter was over. Other times it crept up on you, snow slowly melting and each day getting just the slightest bit warmer than the next, before you suddenly found yourself walking around on a sunny day with just a light jacket or none at all and realized oh! It’s spring!

Nao wasn’t sure if it was her own perception of how winter had seemed to linger this year, but that was what it felt like. And, with the weather suddenly perceptibly warm again, she was making an attempt to get out of her workshop a little. Even if that meant just getting into a different workshop.

It was a nice balmy day even with just the windows open, and she was taking advantage of it to finish the paint jobs on the birdhouses she’d been commissioned by the Ornithology Society to make. It was a little late to try and house the birds just coming back from southern migration, sure, but especially as new chicks hatched and grew, it’d be good to have an abundance of new nesting areas for birds leaving the nest to claim. 

Or, that’s as much as she gathered from the society, and she trusted they knew enough about all that stuff to plan accordingly. She was just happy to have a project that would actually find use. 

It was…nice, being helpful again. 

Dipping her brush into the weather and animal-safe paints, Nao started painting some of the shingles she’d carved into the house, going for a light, pleasant spring theme.

Orlette strolled into the neighborhood workshop, not looking around as she headed directly to a free etching desk. Orlette had used this workshop a few times now for a few odd projects. She had practiced making a few simple rings with embedded stones, a necklace with a little glass circle. She had been prepping to make more and more complicated jewelry. All with familiar sigils. 

She had gone to a pet store the other day to look over collars. But had decided against it for now. Better to focus on her necklaces. 

All that said? It wasn’t what she was working on that day. Today, she took a pair of boots out of her large hand bag, and placed them on the table. Looking curiously at the heels before going to look at the material shelves to see what the workshop had to work with. 

She glanced at Nao, the only other person in the workshop that day, and gave her a nod as she passed her to the resource shelves. No need to be impolite.

Catching a glance as another woman came to the workshop, Nao nodded back. …and she could just leave it at that. Sure, she still got dirty looks time to time, but generally people left her alone on the whole. She even got small talk, occasionally, though Nao had a feeling it was from people who didn’t really keep up with legal cases and just happened to not be in crowds that did so as to pick up the crowd perception. 

…ehhhh, it paid to be polite. 

“New project today?” she asked, cleaning her brush and moving to a new color, before giving the woman a small smile, “I’ll definitely be impressed if you made the boots yourself. Could never quite get the hang of cobbling.”

“Nothing that ambitious,” Orlette admitted, taking a few different versions of metal pieces before heading back to her desk, sitting down as she turned on the desk lamp, “Though still perhaps a bit out of my range of skill. It’s very possible I’m about to destroy these boots. Try not to judge me too harshly, I don’t make costumes too often.”

Taking out a measuring tape, she jotted down on a notepad a few different ways to measure the heel, then the toe of the boots with a little ‘aha’ breath, as if that had only just occurred to her. As she drew some mockups on the notepad, she asked, “Did you make those birdhouses? They’re exquisite.”

“Hey, we all start somewhere, and this isn’t a place to judge,” Nao laughed, something a little dry in it as she realized the irony of that statement. It wasn’t a place to judge projects, at least. “Show me a crafter that doesn’t have a veritable mountain of scrapped ideas and attempts and I’ll show you someone that’s never tried anything new.”

Mistakes were inevitable, people almost never got things right on the first attempt. Some mistakes were less acceptable, but…well, mistakes aren’t stopping points either. You had to keep trying. 

She had to. 

Looking up again, Nao’s eyebrows raised in flattered surprise before she grinned. “I did, thank you! I can just hope birds feel the same.” Rotating one more towards the woman, just more in view, Nao shrugged a bit. “Aaaand the Ornithology Society too, since they’re the ones that commissioned me. Birds will be where they will, but hopefully a nice, safe home built for them will keep a few nests off some gutters and fire escapes.”

“Ah, delightful. A nature lover. Well, I imagine it’s hard not to be, in Dicea,” Orlette said idly, drawing with black marker onto the metal slabs, measuring out a few different shapes.

Orlette had tried to pretend to be Dicean, when she had first arrived. But she had quickly discovered two things: 

One. That the more and more the borders opened up, the more recognizable her accent became.

Two. That being from out of the country inspired a certain amount of compulsive goodwill from people. Not universally, Dicea had its xenophobics. But overall? Diceans were eager to help out and show off their country to her. Made navigating as a new person much simpler, back when she had first arrived.

So rather than being afraid of ‘othering’ herself, Orlette had embraced her foreign nature in Dicea, often bringing it up first to not leave whoever she was talking to wondering. 

“Diceans’ devotion to nature is quite something else. You all even have a fascinating relationship with animals and pets. I remember being very surprised when I realized no one here keeps birds in their homes.” Orlette admitted, grabbing some metal cutters and setting up the slabs into a holding clench.

“You’re not wrong,” Nao said lightly, warm amusement in her voice. “There’s such an entwined history of purposeful coexistence with nature that even if you don’t have a green thumb or aren’t good with animals, it’s hard to dismiss. Though before I give you too much of a wrong idea, I’m mostly just happy to take on a project, rather than having personal stakes in it.”

For the most part, Nao didn’t find it difficult to be around Luminaries. For one, a lot of new arrivals didn’t trust or understand the legal system, so they wouldn’t have heard the news first-hand, and a lot just tried to keep their heads down when it came to navigating more complex social attitudes. But for another? A lot of Luminaries moving to Usott, or even a few she’d come across for business or vacation, just didn’t really care about the local royal family. 

Nao supposed that she talked to Kaito or Shuuichi rarely enough that no one who cared would pick up on her relationship to them anyway. 

So otherwise? They were just people.

(Actually just people. Not strange things to study, not mindless barbarians. People with their own agency and values.)

…still, Nao hesitated for a moment. “Ah, I did hear a little about the practices of falconry and keeping songbirds as pets across the continent. The laws around pet safety are pretty hefty here, to the point I don’t think anywhere but a rehabilitation rescue could justify keeping a bird indoors for significant amounts of time, and even then they need to have flight pens to eventually relocate an injured bird to. I can imagine it sounds a bit overkill in some places.”

“No, not at all. Forgive the noise.” Orlette said, before pushing down hard on the shear against metal. 

SCHNIIIP.

The metal cut like paper in her grip, Orlette certain and strong in her movement. The shears were made to cut metal, of course, but it still took quite a bit if strength from the user to use them effectively, and Orlette, despite her prim and proper styling, a tidiness to her outfit, hair and makeup that suggested a more delicate frame, had no issue using said shears to their full effectiveness, as she cut another piece.

“Believe it or not, I can understand the conflict of keeping what should be otherwise wild animals in cages. I’d hesitate to call myself a ‘nature lover’ or even a ‘farmer’, not as you would understand the term. But I used to keep animals for a living, in Luminary,” Orlette explained, as she cut another strong and sturdy SCHNIIP, “I kept cows.”

It wasn’t Nao’s place to help people that didn’t ask for it. But she still glanced over as the woman pressed down on the metal cutters, nodding a little as she saw there really wasn’t reason to intervene even for people without hangups about it. The woman had good form and was using proper safety protocol; it’d be a freak accident that even someone looking over her shoulder wouldn’t be able to stop if she hurt herself with the cutters. 

People are capable of making their own choices and assessing their own risks. 

“Oh, really?” Nao hummed with polite intrigue between the cuts, changing colors again. “How was it? I don’t mean to assume too much, but I would imagine it’s a bit of a change from keeping livestock to being in the heart of a large city.”

“That’s what I mean, when I say I’d hesitate to tell any Dicean I was a ‘farmer’.” Orlette explained, looking over her cut pieces before grabbing a clamp. Experimenting with bending it in certain ways, “I kept cows in a warehouse in the city. Abhorrent conditions, would bring the average Dicean I’ve come to know to tears, I’m afraid. Which I only feel comfortable admitting because, well, while it was far from perfect even at my prime, the condition the livestock were in when I first was employed there?”

Orlette frowned, taking the boots heels and placing the metal testingly against it’s backside “Truly awful. Conditions that made you feel filthy just being in the environment. The lead supervisor had foolish ideas that so long as a cow could produce milk, why did it ever have to move the whole of its life? As a junior supervisor, the cows were filthy, stunk, bit constantly if you were foolish enough to stand too close to their snouts, kicked if they realized they could, and of course they would. They had nothing to lose, it was already terrible for them. A depressing, miserable environment that, and I cannot stress this enough, produced subpar milk because of that environment. An absolute mess.”

“By the time I became lead supervisor, I had quite a few changes to make, and so much to fix,” Orlette sighed, shaking her head, “And pushback every step of the way. But once those changes were implemented. I was proven right. They were far more effective. And the environment was far less depressing. Good morale for the warehouse employees. No one likes to work among filth.”

Nao paused mid-brushstroke and just stared at Orlette for a moment. This was…

Don’t. Nao, don’t. People’s experiences are not just fodder for thought experiments, their stories don’t exist in a vacuum for you to take bits and pieces of as you like. It’s their lives, and that matters to them as a person as a whole. 

“...wow,” she said carefully, purposefully returning to her painting. Busy hands distract the mind. “That sounds very difficult. Not just the pushback for something you believe in, but having to work in those conditions as well, even from the other side of it.” Nao paused for a moment, carefully considering her words again. “...it sounds like you had a lot of dedication, to even try to change things for the better. Takes a lot of strength, I mean. Admirable, even if the conditions you raised things to would still be shocking.”

“Thank you. I was proud.” Orlette said, picking up a metal spike, thin and needle-like, and a hammer, carefully pushing in thin holes into the metalwork, “I don’t mean to preach inadvertently, but it’s a thought process that aligns with my faith. Atua dictates to show love in all things. By improving the workspace, I expressed love to my coworkers, by making things better for them, and love for the people who relied on our produce. I made a difference, I like to think, at least for a moment there… it was hard work. But it was good work. Worthy work.”

“I have no regrets,” Orlette said, finishing pushing her holes, before taking some of her sewing supplies, resting back in the chair of the desk as she got to the less strenuous tasks, “That said? It was nice leaving it all behind, finding somewhere new. It’s good to experience new things, yes? Based on your scars, I imagine you enjoy it as well.”

“I think even non-Atuans can understand that,” Nao hummed, moving onto a bigger brush to start on the outer ‘walls’ of the birdhouses. “It may not be for the same reasons or with the same thought process, but doing what you can to make things better for the world around you is a worthy way to navigate life, in a lot of people’s minds. …within reason, of course.”

For a moment, Nao smiled regretfully, eyes glancing to the scars that littered her hands. More were visible across her arms and lower legs, today--the weather had been warm enough not to cover up as much. “I did, for a time, though…I think I’d call a lot of it chasing adrenaline with the foolish carelessness of youth. And not so much youth. As much as I think the new chapter of my life is better for me, if I’m honest, moving away from what’s familiar has been more of a struggle. But living inside regrets isn’t a way to live either--one way or another we’re all pushed forward.”

Glancing up, Nao gave the woman a more teasing smile. Nothing as coy or even openly flirtatious as such expressions she’d once had, but not all humor gone from her. “Though, don’t think I’m a tragic figure. A lot of these are from workshop accidents and people getting a little too excited in haunted houses. Those I don’t regret.”

Orlette glanced over, before smiling lightly, looking back to the boot as she threaded the metal spikes into the sole of the toes, “If it helps, I think a certain amount of tragedy can make someone more beautiful. In the way a leather coat is beautiful, or a mosaic glass that’s held its shape even when cracked. One is a type of purposeful destruction that was used to make someone sturdy and wonderful through its inherent tragedy, and the other an accident, but a wonderful accident, giving something that took a great deal of effort and time even more complexity and depth.”

“There’s something so… tempting. In a tragic sort of beauty.” Orlette mused. Her mind drifting back to sad, green eyes that flinched away if they accidentally caught hers too quickly… before she laughed lightly, “I can’t decide from a first glance if you’re leather or cracked mosaic. I think I’d need more time with you to decide.”

Orlette looked over, smirking a bit. Dark red lipstick perfectly matted despite all the talking she had done by that point, as she said, “I’m Orlette, by the way.”

Nao couldn’t help but snort softly. “Beautifully poetic. Though I think there’s something to metaphor clouding realities right in front of you. While it can convey and expand introspection, at least for myself, it bears remembering that people are people, and not objects like coats or art.”

“Still, as a writer, that sort of language always gets my attention,” Nao laughed, smiling more sunnily at Orlette. “Nao; it’s nice to meet you, the dedicated, faithful Orlette. And anything else I may learn too.”

Orlette thought it depended on who you were talking about. But for actual people? She understood Nao’s sentiment. She nodded along, humming in agreement.

“You may learn a lot,” Orlette said, smiling lightly as she took off her heels, pulling on the finished boot, “If you play your cards correctly. Now, tell me, from where you’re sitting? Can you see the metal spikes coming the front toe? I’m going for subtle.”

Leaning away from her desk to see better, Nao’s crafting eyes took in the boots, observing the work. “Hmmm… I do see a glint, but they don’t read as spikes. More just like a metal lining, as for tap shoes or dumpwork.” Raising an eyebrow, she gave Orlette a quizzical smile. “You said you’re working on a costume? Can’t say I’m familiar with a mountain-climber wearing those kinds of shoes, but it’s definitely a statement.”

“It’s a dominatrix outfit,” Orlette explained easily. Having learned enough about Dicea to know they didn’t have the same concerns about such sexual practices. 

It wasn’t something she believed in herself, allowing cruelty in sexual acts. At least, not with real people. That wasn’t the form of love Atua approved of, love that caused pain.

But if she wanted to protect herself openly, from the demons who had followed her to Dicea? The outfits she had observed for dominatrix’s allowed for the most flexibility, as she testingly walked in the boot, tapping it. It made a satisfying clicking sound. She imagined stepping on Lauriam’s chest, digging in the toes of her boot into his neck, daring him to move.

(She imagined the same thing for Luis, and let out a small, shuddering breath.)

“Not a bad first attempt. I’d like to make the heels little spikes as well.” She explained.

Nao let out an enlightened, knowing hum. “Ahhh, gotcha. I’m out of the scene these days myself, but…” She offered Orlette a small, guilty smile. “It wouldn’t be as subtle, but if you want some advice? You’d likely get more milage adding spikes to the back of the heel, rather than underneath. You lose less traction for walking, and you’re going to want to walk more on your heels anyway to avoid bending the front spikes up. Good way to ruin the toes of the shoes, and to accidentally hurt someone a lot worse than you mean to pressing the sides of the spikes against them, rather than teasing the points.”

Indulging in power play, pain play…it just wasn’t good for Nao. But passing learned advice to others, especially if it was to avoid dangerous mishaps? More than alright.

“Oh? Hmmm…” Orlette frowned, looking down at her boot, before glancing at the second half of the pair, still on the desk, “If it’s alright to let your bird houses dry a bit, would you mind showing me?” She asked Nao, gesturing to the desk.

“Not at all,” Nao said warmly, carefully covering her paints and letting her brush soak before coming over. She felt more comfortable dressing nicely again these days, though she definitely hadn’t broken out the mini-dresses or dress shirts for painting clothes, and that included not wearing heels to the workshop. Still, Nao towered over Orlette regardless, a common enough occurrence that Nao didn’t even really register it. 

“Alright, most commonly you’ll see a line of spikes right down the middle. Aligning them straight out is common too, but even if it does limit your range a bit, working best if you’re moving your leg backwards, I’m a fan of angling them slightly up. Even a few degrees does wonders not snagging long skirts or tails or the like…”

-

All things considered, Lauriam wasn’t laid out that long from his latest…whatever. Seizure, sure. Fine. With a bit of rest and strange Dicean medicines, he was up and at ‘em in no time! And, er, without dizzy spells or lingering headaches, which was probably a better sign of the medicines working than looking at his activity. 

But, at the end of it all, it just meant he was back in action! So he could start taking a more serious look at those apartment options--

What if she sees you in town and you don’t notice and you lead her right to where you’ll be living

Lauriam stayed in the castle. 

-

Honestly, Lauriam didn’t have much input to give on the whole ‘schooling’ thing, at least where Invi and Ira were concerned. From his point of view, they were both intelligent and had nearly finished high school anyway--probably even past it, as he listened to coaxed out stories of the study groups and cram courses the twins had spent basically every waking moment outside of school focused on. He knew from Ira about the deal their parents’ bosses had given, so it wasn’t all that surprising that he and Invi had gone in so hard academically, but…sheesh. 

As much as they fretted about finding an option to finish off that last missing year, he really thought they’d probably ace that ‘high school completion’ course they’d been reading about without having to go through anything extra. 

When it came time to potentially sign into that course, though…

Lauriam glanced nervously past the castle gate. 

“I’ll come for moral support,” he laughed, “but I’ll need more preparation than you guys on those tests.”

He did appreciate Invi’s offer to help him study. It was sweet.

-

“We’re going out.”

Okay? Have fun?

“Oh don’t act so confused--you haven’t taken a step past the front gates since you ran into that trash-loser. You’ve been holing up here like a trembling mouse in a granary with five new cats. The others have gone out, and they have just as much reason as you to be wigged out, so you’re going to stop being a coward for three hours, and we’re going out.”

An internal sigh. 

Look, I just… There’s still plenty to do here, and it’s not like you skimped out on shopping before. If I’m putting something off, it’s not anything important.

“Uh, like living our fucking lives? I am not letting us become a homebody. We’re going to go out for its own sake, to just be out in a city with shit going on, and we’re not going to let any two-bit nobody stop us.”

I doubt anyone could, for you.

“Damn right…”

Marluxia barely got out of sight from the gate guards before Lauriam’s anxiety skyrocketed to the point his vision went blurry. 

They went back to the castle and Lauriam found a secluded bit of the maze-like hedge garden around the back of the castle to sit and ogle the plants and wildlife in.

-

It had all fallen to shit, when Tom and Itch became the leading cultists for what was arguably the most important area in Dicea, Usott. 

Oh, sure, Ozzy knew why the two had been given the responsibility of the drugs, in a ‘big picture’ kind of way. The two had been, right out of the gate, amazing at convincing large groups of people to take Danganronpa Silver Poppies. While between them they had about as much charm and likability as mud between your toes, they had a style of persuasion that was hard to argue against. Most people didn’t recognize they had made decisions based on what the two were saying or doing, had been manipulated by the two directly, even when it was directly pointed out to them. Tom and Itch both highly manipulative, and yet somehow impossible to take seriously as manipulators. Like talking to buffoons screaming air into shrill harmonicas, and never noticing you had started tap-dancing to their horrible, horrible tune.

But little picture wise? They were always going to mess up. Too chaotic, too emotionally unstable, too in it for themselves. Monokuma couldn’t control them, and Ozzy was pretty sure The Bear had never even seriously tried. Almost as if he expected the operation to explode when he gave them the reins, and had been looking forward to it.

It made no sense for a Flora to want to destroy the process that had let all Flora act like little kings and queens for the last thousand years, with all the slaves and pets and breeders and toys they could ever imagine. Not after actively participating and benefiting from it for so long. And yet, it was hard to say Monokuma had had any other motive than sabotage, putting them in charge. Monokuma had been a professional, seasoned, someone who knew how to quietly and efficiently get more seedlings under control and shipped back to Danganronpa to fulfil any purpose a Flora desired better than anyone else. He had been reliable. Right up until he wasn’t.

That was what was so heartbreaking about the whole damn thing. It had all been so damn reliable, for so damn long, and now…

Ozzy and his friends were a rare sight in Dicea. Rare enough that Diceans probably didn’t actually know what they were looking at, when they glanced at the group hanging around listlessly in alleys or looking down on rooftops, and immediately felt a spike of fear, staying out of the group’s way. Not the fear of demons, no. It was hard to tell a demon from a person, unless you had a special ability to, or the demon was trying to be known.

No, people were flinching away from the unfamiliar but frightening look of starvation, as the group couldn’t help but watch people pass with slightly too wide, slightly too hungry eyes.

“...I hear the food at that new brisket place is pretty shit,” Skillis, squatting next to the wall, chewing on some tobacco–it helped the hunger panes–finally offered, after literal hours of silence, “Could go there, maybe tell the owner that to their face? Tends to hurt worse if it's true, right?”

Thrash sighed, not even fussed about crushing the gel in her hair leaning back against the wall, eyes glassily tracing where the edge of the building they were next to met the sky. “Or they could not give a shit, just tell us to leave. If you’ve heard about it, I doubt the owner doesn’t know.” She let out a scratchy, dark chuckle. “Or are you lookin’ to get some dosh? Could just sweep you into employment if you care that much about the food.”

Food… Even smelling shitty barbeque would be tough to handle on its own. Culinary food--the sort of ‘grasp at straws’ name for the sort of non-emotion, physical food most beings ate--did nothing to actually fill their stomachs (as much as they might try to pretend) but the smell. The smell was just as tempting as dark, smoky actually good brisket anger, or tart, sweet blueberry pie fear, or bright, tangy--

Head turned towards the direction of the park, and Thrash felt her body tremble as saliva surged in her mouth. 

“...roast lamb with mint sauce and…a-and garlic potatoes…chili flakes over brussel sprouts?”

“Could we cool it on the flavor talk? I’m this close to just taking a stick and beating some food out of someone,” Mouse said dryly. Her small, round face squinting a bit as she glared at the floor, her platform boots not doing much to add height to her small, petite frame, as she swayed a bit… before admitting, “I think I might be serious.”

“We can’t,” Ozzy said, looking to his group sternly. He wasn’t the ‘leader’, they didn’t have one, but he was the one who often had to caution them as he said, “We draw that sort of attention to ourselves, there’s no way for us to explain it. If we tell them we’re desperate, they’ll put us somewhere where people are getting helped and healed. Tell them we’re starving, they’ll put a bunch of empty calories in front of us. Tell them we just felt like it, we end up somewhere separated from people entirely, and they watch us wither away to dust eating our own damn misery, wondering why they can’t help us. There’s no good options there. Just temporary relief, and then certain, long-term death.”

“Always so damn dramatic…” Skillis sighed, resting his head in his arms, leaning against his knees, “...there’s only four of us, now. That makes it a bit easier than when we were with the larger group. We don’t need a lot. Just… something. For longer than a few minutes. There’s got to be a way…”

“Shut it, l-like…” Thrash’s eyes went wide with something akin to divine wonder. She pushed off the wall a little, wobbling as she leaned forward. “I wasn’t talking out of my ass! Don’t - don’t you smell that?”

A whole fine-ass meal. Faint, but distinct in a way she didn’t think she could mistake it for anything else. 

“...guys, I think I’m losin’ it,” she muttered, voice pitching up in desperation as she pulled herself up, eyes locked in the direction of the Community Park. 

“Uh oh,” Skillis said sarcastically, “Super sniffer is at it again. What was it last time? Sausages? But they absolutely had to be humiliation sausages, noot, nooooo, just an actual damn–”

“Shut up,” Mouse said, sniffing as the three followed Thrash, “I smell it too. What is that?”

It was odd, because it smelled like a lot. Like a group of people, all radiating the same satisfying, salivating scents. Was something happening over the hill? Some massive fight? A funeral procession? It didn’t taste like grief, not really. It was a complicated series of tastes. Big, various emotions. Strong. Crazy strong. And…

“...can’t be,” Ozzy whispered, the group looking down the staircase, “...it’s one guy?”

“A pink too,” Mouse said dryly. Trying to sound unaffected, but her pale features reddening in sheer desire, drool slightly pooling at the edge of her lips. “Know what they say about the pinks…”

“A bunch of bullshit. I’ve never tasted anything this strong from one person, pink or otherwise.” Skillis swallowed, staring at the guy… before heading down the staircase. “What are you guys doing? You want him to disappear down the street just staring at him?? Come on!”

“Our Mouse-y’s just got a type,” Thrash rasped a chuckle before eagerly following Skillis down the stairs, the group uncaring about stumbling down them, at one point Thrash just sliding herself down the railing. It was hard to not just break into a mad dash, as with every step the smells just became deeper and more tantalizing. Not just a snack, but as Thrash described, enough going on for a whole meal. A feast, really. They just had to get close enough to take a bite…

Thrash dropped to her knees with a moan, the scents so close within grasp all suddenly dulling. Which made sense, watching a big guy and a sharp guy, their nerves still a nice bite of sliced melon, but nothing compared to the food before, carry what looked like an unconscious pink guy out of the park. 

“No…are you fuckin’ me?!” she cried, “Total burnout…”

“Oh what a FUCKING tease!” Skillis shouted, kicking a rock into the garden wall, genuinely furious as he panted, “Oh, fuck, they can’t do that to us!” 

“I feel ill.” Mouse admitted, now looking pale. “I might vomit.”

“...c-come on,” Ozzy said, gritting his teeth, moving forward to follow the men holding the, like Mouse said, ‘pink’. “Maybe he’ll wake up. But we can’t lose him. That would have been enough for weeks. All coming off of one guy… we have to follow. Come on!” 

The four moved unsteadily, and going up the hill was agony for four people already weakened by over a year of an unsteady diet. But they were determined, and Ozzy relentless in pushing them forward, until finally…

“The castle?” Mouse said, watching the three head in, following inside and watching the three head to one of the ‘resident’ areas, “Think they’re visitors?”

“They’re sure not the damn princes,” Skillis muttered, the four unable to follow the three down the halls they were heading. The resident quarters not necessarily ‘guarded’, but the staff would recognize they didn’t live there and ask questions. “... you guys ever hear about what the sex demons at the brothels tried? One of them was telling me about it over drinks, a few months back. Apparently the Luminary one has a crazy libido. They invited him to be a regular customer, hoping to use him to ease long term food issues. They kept talking about him like ‘the one that got away’... I’m really feeling that, right now. Perfect, impossible food, and just out of reach…”

“...” Ozzy swallowed, “For now.”

“Hm?” Mouse said, glancing up, “What do you mean?”

“He’s out of reach for now.” Ozzy said, swallowing harder, harder… before relaxing, “Come on guys. We’ll be back.”

-

He could do this. He could do this! 

Lauriam had fought the supervisors tooth and nail before. It wasn’t to say he hadn’t been scared of them, but he and Marluxia had let that fear boil into hate and anger, trying to make every encounter with the supervisors just as miserable for them as it was for the two of them. Lauriam was confident. He could flirt and manipulate and barb and be an event, and he didn’t give a shit. 

(He wasn’t a liability for his family. He could protect them too. He wasn’t something that they needed to hide away and walk on glass around because he couldn’t do anything for himself, and would shatter apart at the slightest pressure.)

Orlette? So what. Things were different now, and she’d have a lot to answer for just looking at him. 

He could do this!!

-

Walking through one of the shopping areas Kaito had shown Marluxia before, Lauriam felt ill. He felt shaky and like he was grotesquely sweating, and he couldn’t stop thinking about turning a corner and just… 

He…he could do this.

They had taken turns watching the castle gates, since it had happened. 

It had felt a little ‘stalkery’ at first, and then had just become part of their routine. They kept telling each other they were just doing this until a better idea came along. Something more substantial than random scraps and begging they could manage doing their usual runs in their usual haunts.

But time had gone by, they kept up the watch, and no better ideas had come along. And now Pink was out the gate, and Mouse felt herself cursing that she was the one on watch when he did. 

It would be too easy to lose him–and lose their chance–if she went to tell the others. They had all agreed that whoever caught him leaving? Had to be the one to shoot their shot. Had to be the one to convince him down to the…

…it’d only be for a bit. Not long. One night. They just needed one night. A solid few hours with emotions this guy could feel that strongly? They’d be set for months. They’d find a different way. Just a night…

…oh no, she was already salivating. It wasn’t as strong a taste as the night they had found him, but he radiated a nervous energy that hummed warmly like freshly baked beans, flourishes of cheese and seasonings that represented various aspects of his anxieties, even a few solid meaty lumps of self-doubt and self-hatred for the nerves themselves.

Mouse was so hungry. She could eat a bit, if she got close enough. Let the energy coming off him coat and swallow down her throat, lick it off her skin. Lick it off his skin. Ooooh…

She swallowed hard, and tried to compose herself as she approached him. “Hey,” she greeted, coming up behind him.

Lauriam’s shoulders tensed for a moment before he turned and forcibly relaxed them, offering the small (small-small) woman a soft, polite smile. (Lauriam really was pretty, and no amount of mistreatment had changed that. Honestly there was a case to be made that even if Xaldin had convinced the others with the ‘break his nose’ idea, he’d still be pretty, just with additional character.)

“Hey,” he gave her a small nod, shallow enough for plausible deniability to not be a bow, “Sorry, were you trying to get around me?”

“No, I came up to you specifically,” Mouse said, absolutely no idea what to say next… before shrugging as she put her hands behind her neck, peeking up at him with one eye as if she only slightly found him interesting (rather then the only thing happening on this street, as far as her attention was concerned) as she said, “You’re new around here, right? Was getting kind of bored seeing the same faces all the time. Figure if I was right and you were new? I’d introduce myself, maybe show you some of the fun places to go around here. I’m generous like that… I’m Mouse. That second one’s my name, not a characteristic, despite what I look like.”

Lauriam’s eyebrows raised in surprise. That was a thing people did? Sure, he knew he wasn’t exactly a great case study, but his moms and sister had always told him not to go up to strangers when he was a kid--not that there was a ton of tourism in Romeliad to begin with--and Marluxia’s experience being ‘new’ in Chonis had mostly been people ignoring him. 

The princes had warned them that Diceans had a different definition of ‘friendly’, though. Maybe this was part of it. 

“That’s quite generous of you, Mouse, nice to meet you. I’m Lauriam,” he greeted regardless of degrees of niceties, bowing a little more overtly, though still shallow. Smiling with small amusement, he noted, “Not as descriptive as your name, I’m afraid. And you’re right, I am pretty new to the city. Is it that common for people to take up the mantle of tour guide on a whim?”

“There was a boy around here that used to do it a lot. Always see him harassing folk, acting excitable. Heard he got married and calmed down a bit since then. Left a big open void as far as ‘local tour guide’ goes,” Mouse said, scratching her scalp through her tightly wrapped dual white buns her hair was pulled back into, “And I’ll be honest, you put out a ‘vibe’. Like you might enjoy the same sort of haunts I do. I like my music loud and my couches grunge, if you get me?”

Mouse felt like she was keeping herself pretty well put together, but already she felt her hunger both easing and rapidly becoming painful. She was finally close to enough to consume some of him, but his emotions were steadying out as he talked to her. She was making him less nervous, which was the point, but… auuuuugh. 

“I dunno. You just put out that vibe,” Mouse said again. Shrugging.

He did?

Lauriam didn’t think he really put out any sort of music vibe. He’d listened to Demyx’s concerts like all of them, even saw a few of Larxene’s which were, uh…definitely spectacles if nothing else, but Lauriam didn’t really consider himself a music guy. He didn’t mind it, enjoyed listening to some, but tended to not seek it out much himself. 

On the other hand?

Marluxia grinned sharply, feeling intrigued. “Darling, I’ve been so entrenched in the experimental scene genres have passed me by, but consider my interest caught. For the sort of stuff I like, is there any point if it isn’t loud?”

Giving Mouse a haughty, expectant look, Marluxia tilted his head and gestured an arm out. “If you have the pulse on local haunts, lead the way. It’s nice enough walking around the seven million parks you all have here, but I would like some variety for things to do.”

…what had just happened?

A moment ago, Lauriam’s emotions had been ‘solid’. Solid not in the sense of reliable and strong, but ‘solid’ in the flavors. Thick, heavy lamb, solid potatoes, heavy beans. The sort of food that puts weight on your body and keeps you through the winter.

Now? It was spicy and light. Like if curry popped and sparkled in your mouth. It was still filling, still food, but there was a sense of… ‘artificiality’ that Mouse couldn’t explain. Like if the solid food had been mixed with the properties of candy. Fruit that was too ‘bright’. Water that ‘sizzled’.

…all un-nourishing. Lauriam had lost any and all fear in this exchange now. Genuinely excited to follow her, but no longer providing any food at all.

If Mouse had had doubts before, they were all gone now, as she said, “Have you ever heard of the Night Market? In the old closed off sewers? There’s hangout spots there even when the stalls aren’t set up. Folks hang out there to drink and listen to the music bounce off the sewer walls.”

She was starving. She needed to eat. 

Marluxia lost some enthusiasm, giving Mouse a slightly disgusted look. “You hang out in sewers?”

Lauriam smiled nervously. “That’s…unique. I haven’t heard of the Night Market, no. When I say I’m new, I’ve really only been in town for around two weeks, I think. And most of that has been making more permanent plans with my family, so I’m not really experiencing much nightlife.”

She wasn’t lying about the sewers, they could tell. And Marluxia was genuinely interested in, well, anything exciting. Something he could show Larxene when she made it to Usott, something more than just hiding out in the castle and letting the days slog by. 

Lauriam was trying. He didn’t want life to bypass them either, even if it was just…so fucking hard. It wasn’t really like his siblings needed an example to have fun, but he wanted to be one regardless. If he could have a life here without fear, then they wouldn’t need to have a single doubt about anything. And he couldn’t sleep his life away either. 

“...um…” Still, though, he had some reservations. “When you say they’re ‘closed off’, though, what does that mean?”

Mouse scoffed, “Squeamish, huh? Relax, they haven’t been used for that in, I dunno… hundred years, maybe? They upgraded the sewage system ages ago. It’s all metal pipes buried in the dirt now, all being filtered and recycled into fertilizer. The sewage tunnels were what we used to use, back before we knew better. All the plumbing led to these massive tunnels that had them traveling miles to to dump into the ocean. There weren’t a lot of them, they were hard to build, hard to maintain, smelled terrible. But Usott had one, and the tunnels didn’t disappear once a new system was figured out.”

“So, when they were all dried out and packed up with mud? Whaaaat do we do with all this space?” Mouse said, briefly miming looking confused and bewildered… before shrugging, “Set up a market, put some lights in, take advantage of the ‘big holes in the ground’ aesthetics for a weird and fun experience.”

“But it’s kinda illegal,” Mouse said after a beat, “Because it’s kinda dangerous? No one’s maintaining the tunnel walls anymore. But nothing’s happened yet, soooo no one’s really fussing about it.”

Marluxia prickled, scoffing right back at Mouse. “I’m not squeamish for hearing ‘sewer’ and not tumbling over myself at the chance to jump in a shit hole. The only person I know that hangs out in underground places has a way different reason for being there.”

Lauriam laughed softly, gently trying to soothe Marluxia’s anger. “Explaining it like that, I think I get it. I don’t really know how it is here, but empty spaces tend not to remain that way for long, right? Back home my friends and I found this totally abandoned building, more filled with sand there than mud here, and set up a base of sorts. I think there’s always a sort of requisite ‘grossness’ to abandoned places before they’re no longer abandoned.”

Again, Lauriam’s lips wobbled with nerves. “The…kind of illegal that would end up in arrests, or just told to get out?” Though he barely got that out before Marluxia rolled his eyes, grouching, “She just said nothing’s happened, what are you worried for?”

Mouse glanced somewhat warily at Lauriam. “No, no arrests…”

What was with the shift in tastes?

In mannerisms?

…had he just talked to himself?

“Are you mad?” Mouse asked. She didn’t know what she would do if he said yes. This had always been a sketchy idea, maybe even slight, uh, ‘demonic’. But doing this to someone who was already mentally ill? Didn’t feel… great.

But she was starving. So it was only a mild guilt, as she still steadily led him down the hills. 

Lauriam blinked, before flushing. That hadn’t been an ‘inside’ comment, huh. 

“I, uh… Sorry,” he said more quietly, stewing in embarrassment. It was easy around family and the other Empaths, even the royal family. They knew who Marluxia was, and even in introducing him they could explain the whole story. It didn’t matter if they spoke right after each other. And…Lauriam hadn’t exactly been speaking to anyone else. 

Following after Mouse, Lauriam looked down under the guise of watching his footing. “That probably sounds a little strange, I try not to speak like that just because it’s confusing.”

Marluxia huffed, before giving Mouse a challenging side-look. “And just saying that is confusing too. We’re two people, one body, got a problem?”

Ah. Okay. Mad. 

……..maaaaaaybe that was a good thing? Mouse wasn’t a psychologist, despite how many of her kind were. But she did know multiple personalities were meant to be aaaaaaaaa defeeeeeense mechanism? Maybe??? Like something bad had happened to this guy already and so he made a whole ‘nother guy. For what, she didn’t entirely understand. Share the load? Misery loves company?

But yeah, sure, it was like she was stealing–uh, borrowing–two people rather than one! They could trade out! Two for the price of one! That was maybe helpful??

Whatever. She was hungry.

“Noooo problem at all,” Mouse mused, before pointing down at the thin river at the bottom of the hill they were currently traveling through, “The entrance is down there. Not much farther.”

Hopefully, some of her friends were hanging out down in the… room.

“Good,” Marluxia sniffed, a glint of something sharp in his gaze, “You’d really hate to have a problem with me.”

Lauriam gave a slightly wary look to the tiny river, noting how much the crowds had thinned as they walked down the hill. Sure, sure, from what Mouse said, and her personal style, he got the idea they were ‘alt’ folks, which would generally mean they hung out in places that weren’t as popular. And especially if hanging out in the sewer was technically illegal. It all made sense. 

…but going to secluded places on his own wasn’t exactly the…brightest idea.

(What were the chances Orlette would show up in a place like this, though? She hated anything ‘other’, anything ‘alternative’. Escaping into a new life, he couldn’t imagine her making plans to be anywhere but with ‘upstanding, god-fearing samaritans’.)

Lauriam’s stomach clenched and lurched even just thinking about Orlette. 

As they approached the sewer there was a thumping, heavy sound, and a girl with brown hair looking like she’d been caught in an explosion for how it blew back from her head, other than messy parted bangs framing her eager eyes poked her head out. 

Mmm…like a thick beef stew. 

“Hey Mouse!” Thrash greeted, though her eyes were only for Lauriam, “Who’s your friend?”

“Hey,” Mouse said, like her skin wasn’t prickling with nervous sweat as they approached the entrance, “This is Lauriam. And, I think, some other guy. I dunno. I told him I’d show him one of the music hangouts? Anyone playing right now? If not, maybe we could test out the speaker system.”

I promised him music, she didn’t say. I’ve promised cool, casual vibes.

When Marluxia didn’t offer his name, Lauriam thought that his Nobody just didn’t want it to get out, but he felt awkward enough, especially in the face of the puzzled look that crossed over the other woman to gently murmur as he bowed in greeting, “He’s Marluxia, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Uhhhh, sure! Name’s Thrash,” he could be named crawfish boil for all she cared, “And nah, Ozzy’s just playing Heretic on the record player, we can kick him off. Welcome in, Lar-Mar, get ready to have a taste!”

Lauriam let out a soft sound as Thrash darted forward to grab his hand, pulling him into the sewer hideout as she called, voice echoing, “Ozzy!! Skillis!! Time to rise from the grave!”

It wasn’t like Mouse didn’t have any signs. She was small, so maybe Lauriam was just willing to give the benefit of the doubt for all the ways she was small. But on Thrash, who was a more average height, the signs on both of them became clearer. 

Lauriam knew what hunger looked like. Felt like. Looking at sunken eyes, bony wrists, a sort of hunch you developed because standing straight and stretching your empty stomach out just felt too painful, Lauriam started to feel a whole new source of worry. 

Thrash’s voice bounced off the walls of the tunnels, as the three went deeper into the dimly lit tunnels… and down in the distance, in one of the turnoffs, a head peeked out. Eyes seemed to glisten briefly in the dark, catching the light in an odd way… before Skillis said, far less casually than the girls, “Oh! Look at that. A visitor!” He paused, swallowing. “Here for a bite?”

“Don’t be stupid, Skillis,” Mouse frowned, “Don’t make it sound like we have more snacks than we do. He’s here for music. Maybe some drinks.”

When they got to the turn that Skillis was standing in, it proved to be a small tunnel even deeper into the earth. Little stairs leading down to a door, heavy and metal, that opened and closed based on a handle in the center of it. “Pretty sure it used to be some sort of employee room, back when the tunnels needed maintenance,” Mouse explained, as they headed down the stairs, “The door I have to imagine was to keep the smell out.”

“Sound too,” Skillis said idly, opening it up to let them in.

Inside was, indeed, an old room that might have doubled as some sort of employee rest area. A kitchenette covered in old beer bottles and various snacks was tucked in the back corner, cabinets with their doors long lost. There were a variety of chairs, but most of them looked like they had been dragged in from other areas, with one very large sectional couch that looked like it had been sitting in this place for decades. 

There were bean bags, which looked newer than most of the other furniture. But the newest thing was clearly the strung up electric lights, and the massive record player connected to a big box speaker. Thumping with music.

Maybe, maybe, if this room was full of people, it’d be a quirky but still interesting hangout spot. 

But as everyone entered? Only Ozzy had been hanging out inside. Staring at them with a deer in headlights look. The six of them in a dark, dusty room at the bottom of an old sewer tunnel.

And, as Skillis closed the door behind them? Ozzy considered the next step of things… and decided to just plainly say, “Damn. You actually got him?”

…Lauriam just didn’t understand, though. Yeah, there were stalls and pubs and restaurants that did require money. Money that everyone in the city, and the country, had, absurdly. But even on top of that? He had openly watched the three meals a day served up in the castle than were available for any and everyone. Not just the royal family--who ate the same things as everyone else--, not just castle staff, not just castle guests, but Lauriam had watched people literally just walk into the castle to eat and head back out. 

If these people were starving…what would they want with him? There was no point in robbing him, and it wasn’t like he was an amazing cook or anything. 

As much as those considerations were likely important, though, they did distract Lauriam enough that he jumped slightly as the door behind him closed. Into the…secluded, windowless room with a reinforced metal door and thick walls…

Lauriam’s eyes dilated not just from the dim light, and his heart started pounding.

And Marluxia bared his teeth. “...you have one fucking chance to explain that before I break your damn twiggy necks.”

Thrash almost swooned tasting the anger and fear radiating off them, before she chuckled nervously. “H-hey, we’re not here for anything nefarious, yeah? No need to jump to violence.” Fear…fear, huh? Carefully taking a step closer to Marluxia, she said with sticky amicability, “Not scared of the dark, are you? Didn’t really think it was possible for a metal head.”

Marluxia twitched. “No, I’m not scared of the fucking dark.”

Ozzy physically had to stop himself from moaning. That gamble had paid off, that flash of fear rushing through so… filling. It was almost painful, how much of it all at once there was. Had they ever had something that strong all at once before?

(Maybe not all at once, for one person. But, gods, Ozzy had forgotten what it felt like to eat something large. Nourishing. He had had plenty of complaints from their poppy days, but in retrospect, he had been so spoiled. Literally marinating in eager and willing food.)

Ozzy and Mouse respectively might have held their physical reactions from view. But Skillis? “Nnnng.” 

“Don’t be weird, Skillis,” Mouse said, before following Thrash’s lead. Heading in and plopping herself down onto the couch, reaching down for one of the still full bottles of booze on the end table. “And, yeah? I did tell you I was gonna find a new guy to hang out today. Why sound so shocked? I bring new people here all the time.”

“Oh, is this not the guy you’re trying to seduce at the new record store?” Ozzy said, sitting on the other side of the sectional, “Was just shocked you actually managed to land a date, you gremlin.” 

“Rude. Anyone would wish.” Mouse sighed, before looking to Skillis, who was visibly shaking, mouth gaped open. “Are you on something? So sit down on a bean bag, you freak.”

“Y-yeah, my bad,” Skillis said, going to do so. 

“It’s not even that dark,” Mouse pointed out, gesturing to the lights, “I helped set up those lights myself. They’re not that dark. They’re… warm. Nice orange color.”

Marluxia grit his teeth and tried to breathe normally, even if the adrenaline flooding their system made him want to heave. 

Mars, we need to leave. This isn’t right, we’re trapped, I can’t - I-I can’t--

We’re not trapped, the door didn’t lock, and it’s not heavy enough to permanently close on its own--they’re in here with us, if you didn’t notice. …I know this is weird, but that’s why we should check it out, right? We leave now, someone else just gets put in here. Better us than them. 

Better us than them was a very painfully familiar sentiment. It didn’t exactly help Lauriam’s panic, but he had grown used to trusting Marluxia’s lead for these sorts of things. 

Giving Skillis a suspicious, unimpressed look, Marluxia ‘casually’ leaned against a random chair’s back, not about to disadvantage himself by sitting. 

“Look,” Thrash let out a raspy giggle, “There’s grunge, and grung-y. We know what this place looks like--fuckin’ cool. Never hurts to double check a new guest can actually hang with us.”

Marluxia twitched again, irked. “What, the group that hangs out in a sewer is that exclusive?”

Thrash grinned lackadaisically, swallowing down that sweet spicy anger. Fierce pride that couldn’t stand for anyone tearing it down, a constant, pressing need to prove yourself. “It’s Pit rules here--anyone want in, we let ‘em in. But a lot of people don’t exactly mesh well, you know? Too light to be heavy.”

“We’re a tough to hang with crowd. Gotta have thick skin. And an ear for good music,” Mouse said, “And maybe an open mind when it comes to just letting people relax and enjoy themselves.”

Ozzy almost rolled his eyes. He knew that line. Mouse was echoing a line Tom had used all the time, when they were bringing more and more people into the party. That almost accusatory tone, which showing discomfort at the drugs that were about to be passed around meant you were being an asshole to the people using them. 

It had proved a good way to get people too nervous to voice their misgivings about what was happening around them, feeling immediately in the wrong. Ozzy didn’t think it’d be helpful here though. They didn’t have any poppy to give, the stuff long collected and destroyed. And they didn’t have other drugs that would help with this situation either. Mouse was trying–and failing–to mimic one of the most manipulative people she knew.

…how were they going to do this? They had to keep this guy at elevated, negative feelings for hours, without pushing him so far that he left and they were suddenly kidnappers if they insisted he stay. 

They hadn’t talked much, about how they were going to maintain the negative feelings long enough to feel full, overstuffed, on them. Ozzy expected everyone else had also had a ‘we’ll figure it out when we get there’ mentality. But now they were there? It was a daunting task. 

“I’m sure,” Marluxia drawled disparagingly. Though, for as much as this group tossed red flags between them…his eyes flicked curiously to the record player. “...what are you listening to anyway? One, whatever ‘loud music and grungy couch’ vibe you could’ve gotten from Lauriam, like, please, no way, he doesn’t have an edgy bone in his body, but he certainly doesn’t fit this. We’ve never heard anything close.”

“Seriously?” Thrash questioned, easing off the guy for a moment as she hopped up on the arm of the sectional to sit. “Maybe Heretic’s not the best known, but their sound is pretty middle of the road when it comes to metal.”

Marluxia squinted at her. “...metal what?”

“He had a vibe. Or, maybe it was your vibe?” Mouse shrugged, “Someone had a vibe.”

“Metal music. What, never heard of it?” Skillis asked, raising an eyebrow, “What, have you been living in a rock for the past fifteen years?”

“It’s been around forever, but it’s been picking up popularity since the war,” Ozzy explained, getting up and heading to the record player, “I think it really, you know, captured the way people felt about the war in general. That sort of angry, frustrated, betrayed feeling? You’ll see what I mean, give it a second.” 

Ozzy adjusted the settings a bit, before turning it on…

“You could say that,” Marluxia scoffed, rolling his eyes a bit, though as he crossed his arms and listened to the music they put on…

It was weird. As much as Marluxia was always happy to be a test audience--or just a fun audience--for Larxene’s performances, he wasn’t much more of a music guy than Lauriam, and becoming more of a Chibi hadn’t changed that. So he didn’t really have the ear or vocabulary to describe what he was hearing more than…deep. And lower than a lot of music he ever heard. But also, like…abrasive? But not entirely in an unpleasant way. Just…

…yeah, angry. The kind of music you could yell and scream to. 

(The kind that felt right paired with the electric frazzled feelings of feeling fight fight fight, wanting to punch and shatter a world filled with pain and sorrow and humiliation. The sort of thing that matched bloodied teeth and fierce grins every time a supervisor jolted back from a clean hit he’d managed to get on them, even if it’d only meant he’d be hit back worse or isolated.)

Thrash lidded her eyes as she licked lightly along her lower lip. An old, old anger and pain that certainly didn’t taste less nourishing for that oldness. 

“Anyone else feel a little dizzy?” Skillis muttered, laid out nearly flat on his bean bag, staring blearily at the ceiling. It was so nice to start being filled again…

“Whatever you took isn’t agreeing with you,” Ozzy shrugged, though he understood what Skillis meant. It was a lightheaded feeling. Foggy. When he was full, he knew he’d want to take a nap. Let his body rest.

But for right now? He knew if he tried to stop eating at this moment, his body and nerves would betray him. Fill him with the anger and resentment he was trying to consume. He had taken a bite and needed more. Needed it quickly too.

Mouse must have felt the same way, as she said, “You kinda look like it’s resonating, Lauriam. Marluxia. Whoever. What was the war like for you? Any horror stories?”

“Marluxia,” Marluxia grumbled, giving the group a dry look, though it was a bit less aggressive since they were just hanging out listening to music, personal weirdness aside. “And I missed it, living under my rock. By the time I’d crawled out from under it, people weren’t really talking about it anymore. That war, anyway.”

“‘That’ war…?” Thrash said, voice more subdued. 

Huffing, Marluxia shrugged. “Missed the civil war too, so no stories there either.”

Skillis blinked lazily at the ceiling… before picking up his head, squinting at Marluxia. “What are you talking about? How do you miss news of two wars? I mean, I can get the civil war, that wasn’t our business. But the Fifteen Year Potato wars? What do you mean you ‘missed it’?”

“I missed it. Do you need a dictionary?” Marluxia sniffed, before frowning. “...’potato’ war?”

Thrash snorted. “Tit for tat? You show and tell how you missed the war, we explain the potato part.”

“Feels fair,” Ozzy agreed, giving a nod before looking expectantly at Marluxia, “You said you were living under a rock. I thought you were joking, but… were you trapped somewhere?”

“‘Trapped’ is a strong guess,” Mouse said, “I bet he just lived in one of those armageddon prepper places. Just isolated communities, right?”

“Oo, fun, I get to go first~” Marluxia said with sickening cheer, before smirking amusedly at Mouse. “Are those a thing? That’s hilarious…but no. If you wanted to get technical, I was living in a rock. You know,” he gave a pointed look around the room they were in, “ominous, secluded place with thick walls and heavy doors. Getting heavy nostalgia vibes right now.”

While there were tangs of panic ever present, there was a decadent slam of those feelings as Lauriam’s eyes widened, his crossed arms gripping his biceps tightly, Marluxia’s faux confidence giving way to something that was barely keeping things together. 

“That’s enough,” Lauriam muttered quietly. 

This time, Ozzy couldn’t help his little sigh of longing. Mmm… that tasted good…

Mouse sat up, tilting her head and frowning at Lauriam, before looking around at the room they were in. She didn’t mind it here, but if she had been made to live here for years?

“Is that why you made a whole new dude?” Mouse asked, “For company?”

If it were possible, Lauriam gripped onto himself tighter at Ozzy’s sigh, feeling the mounting need to bolt with every moment. Even…even if none of these people were doing anything. Even if they…

(‘Make sure he’s actually working this time’, they’d said. Because it looked like he was just sitting in a room. Doing nothing.)

Lauriam stood off the back of the chair, leaning himself back to head towards the door. Eyes fixed on Mouse. “...what makes you think I made him on purpose?” he asked, a heavy, dread-filled implication in his voice.

Aw shit, no!!

Thrash popped up from the couch, jogging over to Lauriam with a desperate gleam in her eyes. Throwing her arms around his back, she tried to nudge him away from the door. “Look, none of us here are psych majors, sorry if we don’t use the right words,” she laughed, the notes a little rushed. “You good, Marluxia? We just got right to talkin’, didn’t offer drinks or--”

Lauriam heavily flinched away from her. “Don’t touch me.”

It was more than a feast. A damn banquet. Thrash drooled around a shaky little breath. 

“Oh, man,” Skillis whispered, wrapping his arms around his stomach, vision fuzzing out as he whispered, “I might burst. I think my stomach shrunk… I need more though. Can we just lick his skin or–”

“Sorry, he’s high as balls, he doesn't know what he’s saying,” Ozzy said urgently, standing up in alarm as he saw Lauriam edging to the door, Thrash needing to go get him. “And sorry, we didn’t mean to upset you. Thrash is right, do you want to drink? You seem kinda wound up, we’re all just chilling here.”

Mouse wanted to help as well, but she was shaking on the couch. Feeling the same overwhelmed effects Skillis was. Both ravenous and somehow full to bursting. She didn’t know how to handle this much food anymore. And like Skillis, she still desperately wanted more. Licking the sweat off his skin would be amazing.

Lauriam wasn’t oblivious to the way some people looked at him. Even if he hadn’t started eavesdropping on the supervisors, dumping a bucket of cold water over him and making him pick up tacks scattered over the floor wasn’t exactly a subtle punishment. The supervisors hadn’t just looked at him like he was something to own, they already owned him. 

But these people. 

They looked like they wanted to eat him. 

Fuck ‘better us than them’, Lauriam needed to get out of here.

Hearing one more shaky breath in the room, Lauriam took a step back, before all but sprinting towards the door.

Or, he would have, if Thrash didn’t grab him around the waist, grunting out a desperate, “No!!” as she tugged him back. For a moment her eyes glowing red and darkness seeming to dim around them like a black hole. “𝕐𝕆𝕌 ℕ𝔼𝔼𝔻 𝕋𝕆 𝕊𝕋𝔸𝕐!”

Lauriam choked on a heave as his vision blurred, muscles growing lax for a moment as something in his head made him feel numb and cowed…and that was enough to topple over from Thrash’s pulling. She swung him around just enough to get on top, failing to hold in a moan at the surge of fear that followed her use of demonic influence.

“Oh, shit! Guys, didn’t we agree anything he could go to the guards with was a no-go!?” Sillis sputtered in his bean bag, trying to push himself out of it and finding it difficult to stand up in his panic.

He had a point, but there was no time to talk about it. Like Thrash, Ozzy felt that well of panic as Lauriam tried to leave, scrambling over to help her. They couldn’t lose him, not yet! Sure, they felt better now, but they needed so much more! They needed to be able to live off of this for months! Enough time to finally have the strength and energy and mental clarity to think of a real solution! 

They couldn’t keep starving! They were dying!

(It didn’t help that Lauriam and Marluxia’s panic and anger at the situation tasted amazing. If he was a meal at a table, under fork and knife? Ozzy would be eating his bites so fast that he wouldn’t be able to breathe. Struggling to not choke around him, as he shoved him inside of himself.)

Ozzy threw himself down on Lauriam’s shoulders, helping Thrash hold him down, and literally felt drool spill over his chin as he said, “You can’t go. We’re not letting you go! We’re–”

“GUYS!” 

The three demons stilled, looking back at Mouse. Who radiated a dark, commanding presence. Her hair buns, which looked so much like mouse ears, oddly looking like ram horns for a moment, a testament to her parents’ heritage… before the energy eased off, Mouse looking more human, as she lifted a rope. “I told you we’d need this.”

This was such, such, such a bad idea… but Ozzy nodded, looking to Thrash. “Help me drag him over.”

What was that what was that that wasn’t an emotion dome WHAT WAS HAPPENING?!?!?

Malnourished or no, it was still two on one and Lauriam struggled to push Thrash and Ozzy off him, something almost foreign in him cowering (prey in the face of a predator) as Mouse shouted, unfortunately missing his chance to escape while they were distracted. 

But as she held up a rope? 

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME, YOU FUCKS!!!” Lauriam screamed, Thrash startled by the surge of strength (and maybe that delicious desperate struggle to survive at all costs) enough to actually fall back as Lauriam punched her, thrashing enough in Ozzy’s grasp to get his jaw close enough to clamp down on the top of his forearm.

“AUGH! HE BIT ME!” Ozzy shouted, trying to lurch backwards, but Lauriam’s grip was too tight on his arm. 

“That’s ironic,” Skillis grumbled, finally escaping the bean bag, hurrying over with Mouse to be backup to Ozzy and Thrash. “Alright, my turn!”

And while Mouse was trying to figure out how to wrap the rope around Lauriam’s arm? Skillis brought his foot back, and with a loud, “Allyoop!” kicked Lauriam in his side.

Panicked green eyes went fever bright. 

Group beatings were rare. Especially after… But even before, they didn’t happen often. No one was sure why, since it sure seemed like the hefty cast of torturers didn’t have anything to do but check in on them twice a day and make their lives miserable. Perhaps they’d just ought to be grateful that something wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. 

But they did still happen sometimes. 

There was no hope of winning, not really. Lauriam…? knew that, in some part of his brain, probably. There had been no hope since a sharp blade cut through a soft throat, and the monsters had scraped their prized corpse off the road. But it wasn’t about winning. Even if that’s what Marluxia…? had been made to do. 

It was about pain and death. 

Laur…luxia? growled a gutteral rumble as he felt pain from his side, holding his jaw even tighter instead of letting go to gasp. As they focused on his arms, he kicked a heel out, catching something hard, before twisting his body over to aim higher. One arm free. Mar…riam? finally released his bite as he jabbed a hand up, looking for anything soft or tender and aiming to dig.

Skillis was down, the kick out catching his knee in the worst way, Skillis gasping in pain as he was knocked to the ground, unable to put any pressure on his newly damaged joint.

But whatever gasp of pain Skillis made? Was nothing in comparison to the howling wails that came out of Ozzy, as their meal dug his fingers into the open wounds of the bite marks on Ozzy’s arm, digging his fingers in beneath the skin and pulling. 

Mouse was frozen, staring, for a few different reasons. One, she was a little frightened, the intensity of their prey’s fighting back a lot to handle. Two, she was a little uncertain how to help, everyone getting injured and the fight looking even in how badly everyone was doing. And three…

Mouse had seen, back in the poppy party days, one way people had fun torturing each other was forcing each other to eat until they puked. Some of them did it slow and methodically, wanting to make sure the food stayed, but others? They concocted filling liquids and forced it down someone’s throat, forcing them to swallow and swallow as their belly swelled, until the body couldn’t handle it anymore and started to crash.

This felt a bit like that. Like she was being overfed all at once. Forced to down gallons of protein filled liquid. 

But Mouth was only frozen for so long. Her friends needed help, the prey was out of control. She needed to, to…

Folding rope into two ends, she leapt forward and wrapped the rope around Lauriam’s neck. Wrapping her small hands around the bending loops of the rope and pulling back, hard. Strangling him.

At first, the man didn’t even seem to notice the rope at all, elbowing Thrash with an echoing crack in the sternum as she tried to pull him away from Ozzy, but as he lunged towards her more, it was only then he seemed to note it. If only because his head was jerked backwards in the opposing force of his body. 

No, no, he was not doing this he would WIN they’d ALL FUCKING PAY THE WORLD WOULD DIE ALONG WITH HIM izzy’s parents were strangled he couldn’t do that to him these monsters weren’t going to get him

Dad?

Dad? I miss you. I want to see you again. Will I go to where you are? If we go the same way?

The man wheezed and choked, grasping at the rope around his neck desperately, bloodied nails only growing moreso as he scratched at his neck to try and tear through the rope. Drool pooled out of his mouth, reddened face starting to grow purple.

“Ah, shit, someone grab his hands!” Skillis shouted, specifically not getting close enough to grab his hands, keeping a safe distance.

Ozzy, though, grit his teeth through the pain in his arm–which was terrible, maybe the worst thing he had ever felt–and grabbed one of Lauriam’s hands, pulling it away from clawing his own throat open. “Put him down, put him down! Knock him out before he kills himself!”

“I’m trying!” Mouse insisted, pulling the rope tighter. 

“Hold on!” Thrash gasped, panicking as she snatched one of the broken-off cabinet doors from the floor. “I’ll get him!”

Lights burst like opening buds in the man’s eyes. 

And as Thrash reeled up to smash the door over Lauriam’s head to knock him out, she froze with a frightened gasp, body growing lax as she stared uncomprehendingly at the giant vine stalk that burst up through her body, caging around her still-beating heart and ripping it up out of her. Her body starting to fall down the stalk as she gulped in a breath that didn’t go anywhere. Only thinking…how…?

(Somewhere else, but also not far at all, great vines and thick sunflower stems burst up across a tropical island. Seeming almost like they’d rip it apart, but also like they were desperate fingers latching on for dear life.)

(Sora shouted in surprise as one of the sunflowers, unusually massive, caught him by surprise and lifted him on the base of its head into the sky, while Riku, Kairi, and Xion all gasped and spread their arms, trying to see if he would fall and if they’d need to catch him, while Roxas dryly reminded them Sora could fly in any world.)

(Even twitched as he watched the sunflowers grow. What now!?)

{Lauriam, Marluxia, are you alright!?}

Meanwhile, all the demons were having similar experiences of their hearts gripped by vines, thumping outside of their exploded chests. Mouse for a moment only held onto the rope because her whole body had frozen in shocked, stupefied horror. Until, finally, she forced herself to let go, so that she could take a shaky step back. Reaching to touch her heart like she could potentially just push it back in, but unwilling to close the gap and actually touch it.

Ozzy gagged, falling and rolling to his side, unable to breathe. His mind was swimming with panic, unable to really comprehend what was going on. All he knew, suddenly, was that he was dying, and dying hurt terribly. 

Skillis stumbled backwards, also staring at his heart… and he smiled crookedly. “Oh shit… think this means we’re g-gonna meet our folks??” he giggled again, saying deliriously, “Maybe hellfire won’t be so bad.”

Reaching out to Lauriam and Marluxia’s mind didn’t receive a message back, so to speak. Just opening the floodgates more clearly to what had already been there--massive feelings of fear and anger and threat.

…

…or, well. Massive was a word to use. But perhaps misleading when, during their moments, the island Empaths were used to the Garden Duo having MASSIVE emotions. What was coming from them now felt weirdly…drained. Weirdly small for the sorts of things they were feeling. 

On the ground, the man sputtered as he tried to breathe, spit foaming at his lips.

Back at the castle, Even reached out to Xigbar. He needed a precise location, now.

In the sewer, six people just sorta… panted on the floor. Skillis having tripped in his scramble backwards on one of the beer bottles, shouting in alarm as he landed on his back, staring at the ceiling. Still just kinda… waiting to die.

“...is uh…” Skillis swallowed, “Is anyone dead yet?”

Thrash, somehow, hadn’t passed out, though she seemed well on the way there. While it felt like Skillis’ words came in garbled, she did agree with him--she always thought dying would happen faster. Of course, she didn’t think she’d go out in such a grotesquely violent way like this, but still. She felt paralyzed, blearily watching her heart outside of herself, uselessly trying to breathe…

Demons, at least all the ones Ascher knew, didn’t tend to group up in large communities, historically. They could be a little territorial in certain ways, and it tended to be dangerous just from a safety perspective. Large groups of people instigating negative emotions tended to draw unwanted attention, as it was.

Still, there still was a ‘Demon Community’. Outside of banding together during the Freeze, which was one of the more notable things, and keeping tabs on each other throughout the centuries, every now and then it was just good form to check in on each other when you were in the same places. How’re you doing, how’s the food hunt, neat stories from the new identity, sort of thing. 

Ascher enjoyed these visits, honestly. As they were ‘once every month or few months’ visit. A perfect frequenc--

Hearing thumping music echoing through the sewer wasn’t unusual. The cut of jubileed kumquats on his tongue wasn’t. Pausing their walk back from the underground, Ascher gave Ava a concerned look before he quickly hurried towards the weakening taste.

“Oh dear,” Ava murmured, lifting up the ends of her dress to give her better access to run as well, her heels clicking on the mud-caked stone beneath her. 

Ava had known this group in particular was struggling in the last year. She had been, for quite some time by that point, half considering actually reaching out to Kaito about it. The man had a peculiar relationship with his concept of self-sacrifice and the feeding of others, as she knew from the story of him and Drake. While to the family the most alarming thing about that incident was Shuichi and Kaito realizing their romantic kinks and interests didn’t actually always align, let alone how it affected their third partner, what Ava had found herself wondering was if Kaito, if he was explained the whole situation and they kept it as safe as they could, would be willing to volunteer to be miserable for a few hours, for a purposeful feeding.

Ava hadn’t asked yet for a few different reasons. One, it wasn’t necessarily… professional. To take advantage of a desire to feed others through his own volunteered suffering, as one of his therapists. It might make Kaito feel more accomplished, more useful, but that wasn’t a good thing.

Two… demons were a community, yes. But Ava was ultimately a person. A flawed one at that. And a part of her had thought that, well, it might be a good thing, for this particular group, to… suffer. For a while. Seeing first hand and unrescued from the consequences of their own choices.

Yes. The poppy parties were amazing places for demon feedings. But to a demon like Ava, who had been for several lifetimes now focusing and working hard to ethically source her misery? Taking advantage of parties meant to capture and enslave other people, even if it was necessary to survive…

Well. Maybe the kids needed to learn you didn’t touch the oven because, my, didn’t it suck to be burned.

Ava knew a thousand counterarguments to that thought process. But it hadn’t changed that she hadn’t come to this group's rescue in months, despite having a guy, like, right there, who’d probably be thrilled to feed them.

But, it would seem she had left it too long, as she stepped into the room and saw a group of youths all laid out and groaning on the floor, all of their eyes unfocused. Staring at and watching things that weren’t there. “They’re all hallucinating.” Ava frowned, looking to Ascher.

Ascher had only balked for a moment seeing the scene in the room before heading to one of the figures, something more alarmed rising in him seeing a rope loosely weaved around his neck. Preparing himself for possible retaliation--a man likely in his mid-20s would be a bit harder to shrug off thrashing from than an elementary school-aged child--he deftly loosened the rope more, pulling it away. 

“More than that,” he said gravely, “Ava, if you would, find something to staunch that young man’s bleeding wound? …shoot, they’ve been devouring this kid…”

Which made it more surprising as the man he was knelt over flinched and tried to pull away, growling incoherently as he pressed bloodied hands over his temples. Or, rather, what was surprising was just how strong his emotions still were, considering how much the other demons had been feeding on him. 

“Johnathan,” Ava sighed, kneeling down next to Ozzy, giving a worried look over his bleeding arm, “Did you let him bite you? Well, I can’t say that doesn’t feel a bit like karma… oh, what did you all do…”

Ava frowned, reaching over to take Ozzy’s belt–she could use her handkerchiefs against the wound and secure it with the belt–as she observed the way his gaze couldn’t focus on her. “What on earth is happening to…” 

…OH! 

Ava’s eyes widened in sudden recognition, as she glanced back at the man– Lauriam– and said, “I know him! Ooooh dear, this might be bad. I mean, more bad than it obviously is. I imagine there’s someone on their way here as we speak. We need to decide now if we want these four to answer to his family or not.”

“Shit…” Ascher sighed, giving the pink-haired man a concerned look, but not reapproaching him after he’d pulled away. And in that space, he looked over some of the other demons. Noting the awkward angle of Barthalmew’s leg, the way Tiandra struggled to breathe. “...they’re not answering to anyone like this. They need medical help before anything else.”

He gave Ava a serious look, asking her, “Do you think you’d be able to convince the family of that? If so, flagging a guard to get transport to the hospital is something to do sooner rather than later.”

Could Ava do it? Unlikely. She didn’t know this group past a few encounters and reputation. That said… “I’ll get a guard, and I’ll reach out to someone I trust can keep the peace between them, have him talk to the family while they’re in the hospital. I’ll wrap this wound and then run for a guard, think you can handle them all for a moment while I’m gone?”

She asked this as she took Ozzy’s belt off, following through on her plant to wrap his arm with her handkerchiefs. As she did so, Ozzy’s gaze briefly cleared as he jerked in pain, staring blearily at Dr. Mariah. “...oh no…” he murmured, realizing that not only was he dying, but also?? They were caught??? Trying to explain in his final breaths, “It wasn’t s’posed to go this far…”

“It never is.” Ava sighed, finishing her wrap. “I’ll be back.”

She went off to get a guard, get some transport, and send a message to Prince Kokichi.

-

The message had arrived just in time to avoid things growing into even more of a clusterfuck. Kokichi had known something had happened, in a vague sort of way, since the ripples Lauriam and Marluxia had put out weren’t exactly subtle, but instead of trying to check in on the Empaths--which, considering the last time Kokichi had tried, he hadn’t gotten much of an answer at all--he was notified right to the source. 

Which let all parties get transferred to the hospital, at least. Though Kokichi couldn’t help feeling like he had betrayed the Empaths in some way, with one of them being attacked like this, in the city he had promised them safety. 

They were all waiting to get the full story, though. Thrash, at least, was fully passed out, one of her ribs fractured, and Lauriam…

…w-well, he was awake. At least. Even if the fever he’d developed and burgeoning flu-like symptoms would likely be better dealt with asleep. But since he was conscious, the healers had let his family members in to see him. Even if seeing his neck and arm bandaged up, and him blearily, bewilderedly looking at his hands wasn’t the most assuring thing.

Even had stood by their bed, fuming. “I don’t understand. Was he attacked or not? How are rope burns around his neck an ‘accident’.”

“Apologies, ‘accident’ might be the wrong word. Yes, he was attacked,” Dr. Mariah explained, having been trying to be the go-between on this, “And it was targeted. But it has nothing to do with who you are, where you came from, your abilities. It was what was ultimately meant to be a hangout that escalated out of control.”

“How does this,” Even scowled, glaring at the girl that everyone kept insisting to him was a doctor, “occur from ‘hanging out’?!”

Dr. Mariah opened her mouth, closed it, considering her words. “...they were hoping to upset him. But not to this extent.”

“They can tell me that themselves, then,” Even said, “I want to know their room numbers.”

The man on the bed frowned a bit and looked up at Even with glassy eyes, the cooling patch on his forehead not offsetting the flush of the rest of his face. The frown gave the impression that he was building himself up to say something…but like he’d been the whole time, he’d remained silent. And looking a bit annoyed and worried about that. 

A bit defeated, he shook his head a little at Even. Or, did so more from moving his shoulders to avoid agitating his neck. 

“If these people truly aren’t a danger to us, you’ll have no problem introducing me,” Even told Dr. Mariah, pretending he hadn’t seen the shake.

But Dr. Mariah saw it, and sighed as she continued, “You’re upset right now, and worried about your people. I understand that your initial feelings would be to chase down those responsible and ensure they’re too intimidated to try this again, but I assure you, this was a one-time occurrence, and largely an accident. Your family, including Lauriam, is in no danger from this group from this point forward. Introducing you would only potentially get you in trouble with the guardforce, and tempt you to make greater enemies.”

“I’m going to be questioned by the guards!? They lured him into a room and attacked him!”

“And they’ll be appropriately reprimanded for that. But I’m afraid that’s for others to work on. Your part in this is done.” Dr. Mariah explained, “And if you try to go to the guards about it, they’ll say the same thing, as will any lawyers here. Keeping you all separated is what everyone is going to do, from this point forward. I know that seems harsh to you, but it’s how things are done here.”

“Outrageous.” Even muttered, looking back to Lauriam, “Reprimanded. Look at what they did to him…”

The man reached out to lightly grab onto the edge of Even’s sleeve. Unclear if the motion was meant to be soothing, or to keep Even from leaving, though likely both. 

The group had… They had almost killed him. Had tried to kill him, though as much as it was difficult to really parse the memories of what happened, ‘tried to kill’ wasn’t as purposefully malicious as the words implied. What happened was… Well, as Dr. Mariah kept saying--mostly an accident. 

Because…

A quiet, strained gurgle came from the man’s throat, a more concentrated effort to speak, though no more comprehensible than his silence. 

Even sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Honestly, Lauriam, are you seriously trying to speak right now? I’m sorry, are you not in enough entirely unnecessary pain? Just talk to me.”

“You seem agitated,” Dr. Mariah said, glancing in concern at Lauriam, but directing her words to Even, “I understand why, but I think you might want to take a breath, if that agitation is going to be directed at the one person in the room least deserving of it. And who can least defend himself against it.”

“Oh, he can defend himself just fine.” Even scowled, looking down at the hand weakly grasping his sleeve. “Which is what makes it all the more frustrating that he absolutely refuses to take care of himself. What on earth were you doing in a damn sewer.”

It was…odd. The contorted expression that twitched across the man’s face for a moment. Like brief flashes of shame then rage, right after each other, before settling into something that just looked grim. 

Reminded of it--or, more likely, urged--the intent that reached out was weak, wavering. Like it wasn’t even sure it’d reach, which added to the confusion of the mismatched emotions in it. 

{FunFear. FriendBelonging. WrongWrong. HelpCower. GrossDaunting. RegretFrustration.}

The odd messaging was compounded by the fact that the style of it was something that resembled neither Lauriam or Marluxia.

…….. {Xaldin, Aqua, go check on Lauriam and Marluxia’s world. Now.}

-

“Is he awake now?” Xaldin asked aloud, looking over at Lauriam’s door from where he had been listlessly sitting on the beach. Having been trying to give the guy space to recover this time, rather than having everyone rush into his world and potentially overwhelm him further. 

It was a plan of action that Aqua was doing terribly with. She’d been pacing trenches in the sand, only really stopping to confer with Terra, the two of them agreeing that Terra was going to Be Available for the teens. There had been a genuine moment where Aqua had actually started packing up her things in NGP, not much more of a plan in her head than literally running all the way to Usott to be with Lauriam and Marluxia. To be honest, it was more likely the fact that it’d still take her weeks regardless to get there that got her to listen to any sort of reason. 

But given more direction than ‘wait’ now?

“Fuck I hope,” she muttered in a breath, clambering up the treehouse that held Lauriam’s door. 

And, dismaying but perhaps not surprising, the flower field world was a mess. Dirt was upturned everywhere, crushing and bending flowers underneath, and while it wasn’t the stench of rotting decay that used to lie under the flowers, there was a definite smell. Something that might’ve been unfamiliar, had it not been for Dilan and Xaldin’s world. The smell of gravedirt. 

And on a pile of loose, upturned dirt, right by a stone gravemarker, a man laid, dazed. 

A man that wasn’t Lauriam or Marluxia. Or…rather…

He looked a lot like them. But both of them. Skin tone lighter than Lauriam’s, darker than Marluxia’s, buffer than Lauriam, twiggier than Marluxia; he was wearing loose, wide-legged pants, but his button-down shirt was covered by a black sweater vest. His hair wasn’t the thick puff of Lauriam’s, but it was wavier than Marluxia’s, at a sort of awkward length above his shoulders. 

And, looking over at Aqua’s tentative call, jade eyes looked back at her and Xaldin. 

Not moss green. Not acid green. 

Jade. 

“Well, shit,” Xaldin whispered, only taking a few seconds to really take in not only the situation, but also what the hell it might mean… before he carefully approached, lifting his hands lightly in a small signal that he was harmless as he grinned warily at the new person. “Well, this is a new one from the garden duo… well, I guess it’s just Garden right now. Hey garden~ love the outfit. You know me?”

After a beat, ‘Garden’ tentatively nodded before looking more wary. There was a small, testing sound from his throat, as if he was worried he’d have just as much trouble talking in here than he did in the physical world, before he spoke. His tone quiet, but lacking the softness that tended to accompany Lauriam’s voice when he spoke quietly. 

“...I have no fucking idea what’s going on either,” ‘Garden’ informed, before giving Aqua and Xaldin a stressed look. “...Mom? Xaldin? I think something’s really wrong.”

“Well, at least we’re all on the same footing,” Xaldin said, as he sent to Even, {The duo’s fucked. I think I’m looking at them merged together? I have no idea what I’m looking at. It’s like a new guy, physically, but he seems to be… them? Can we fucking fix this?? Now??}

At the hospital, Even pressed his lips together tightly. He had no idea what to do. What did they mean, merged? What… “If all you wish to do is protect your precious, innocent, violent attackers, you can leave now. You’re of no help to anyone,” Even said tensely to Dr. Mariah, partly to direct his frustration on someone who wasn’t Lauriam, and mostly because he wanted to be able to speak aloud, openly to… whoever was in the bed.

Dr. Mariah looked warily between the two, before nodding her head. “I’m going to ask the nurses to check on you both. For now, please excuse me.”

Dr. Mariah headed off, and Even sighed when the door closed behind her. “Absolutely worthless,” he muttered, going to sit beside Lauriam’s bed, giving him a concerned look, “...so you cannot speak, yes? And your intent is distorted. Could you make a second attempt to send me a message, so we can confirm?”

In the mindscape, ‘Garden’ frowned, before losing focus. 

And regaining it in the physical world as he levelled that frown onto Even. Conviction strong, but not snapping or as explosive as one might expect from Lauriam or Marluxia. “She’s trying to give more nuance to the situation,” he rasped at Even, expression grave, “Yeah, they tried to kill me, but because they were trying to eat me. I could’ve left earlier but I…” Garden faltered. “...he… I…”

Wincing, Garden put a hand to his head, shaking it a little.

Even squinted at Lauriam, frowning. “...you do comprehend that saying they were trying to ‘eat’ you does not make the situation sound any better, yes? Nevermind, you’re in no state to explain anything. Look, just… rest for now, I’m certain Xaldin and Aqua are trying to sort this out in your world, which is likely more helpful than anything I can do out here.”

Garden huffed a little. “Believe me, I’m not exactly thrilled with them. But even if you don’t, Vexen knows what starvation’s like. It’s not the best state to make decisions in.” Just rubbing his forehead for a moment, sagging in his fatigue, Garden peeked up at Even with a worried frown. “...Even, they…did something to me. It was kind of like an emotion dome, but not one. I don’t know what happened, but…”

He gave the wall a stern look. “I think that means that eating me wasn’t exactly cannibalism, if you catch my drift.”

“Lauriam,” Even paused, before trying again, “Marluxia. Right now, I am looking at a harsh, red, thin line around your neck. And that seems to be the absolute least of your injuries… nevermind.” Even sighed, giving up. In truth, vengeance against the group that attacked Lauriam was becoming less likely every second, and Even wasn’t the type to fight losing battles. A lifetime had taught him that it wasn’t worth the cost. If no one else was concerned about their attackers? Even couldn’t consider it a priority anymore. It was out of his hands.

The emotion dome though… “I don’t believe they’re Empaths,” Even frowned, “And no, I don’t catch your ‘drift’. What are you trying to explain to me?”

Garden gave tentative nods to both names, before cringing at the reminder of his injuries. It was one thing to acknowledge that the group had almost killed him. Another to face the moment-to-moment memories of it. But even the frightening reminder wasn’t enough to stop him from giving Even a flat look for a moment. 

Spelling it out, he explained, “I don’t think eating me was physical. Do you… Have you looked at Vexen’s memories of when we did our first grocery shopping after we got Ouma’s money? We all basically had to hold each other back from gorging out because when you have real food after a period of starvation?” Garden’s eyes lidded. He wasn’t feeling the need to throw himself in his family’s way to save the people that almost killed him, sure. But as he’d been recollecting on everything, he did understand more about what happened. “If someone tries to take it away from you, freaking the fuck out is kind of the base level reaction.”

“Tragic for them,” Even said, unmoved. “...they were devouring… I’m not even sure what to classify even my guess. Your empathery? Your energy? It would explain the way your signature felt, but I assumed it was a different form of stress, when I first felt it. They were eating your energy…”

Even’s brows furrowed in mild dread, as he whispered to himself, “What does that do to someone’s internal structures? Can you recover what you’ve lost with rest? …do you feel hungry, now? I’m aware they weren’t ‘physically’ devouring you, but it does sound like you were drained in some way. Do you feel hungry, thirsty? Like your body needs more of something in particular?”

Garden shrugged a little, not having any answers beyond the initial idea, and that was just from what he’d observed. He recognized the look of someone looking at him like a piece of meat, but not really the way the group had. And between the weird moans and hungry looks, he didn’t get the impression they’d been holding themselves back from physically cutting him open. So that meant? That they had already been getting what they wanted from him. 

…kind of made him feel a bit used, honestly. 

He remembered Thrash’s arm around his back, the feeling of them pinning him down…

Letting out a shaky breath, Garden shuddered and curled into himself before he gave Even another tense shrug. “...tired, mostly. And like I have a bad cold. I’m not sure how successful I’d be at eating anything right now, honestly.”

Lightly holding onto the blanket covering him, Garden gave Even a strained look. “Do you know how long I have to stay here?”

“To just rest and recover? I can insist we take you home now.” Even said, glancing back at the hospital door, “I’d want them to look you over, ensure there’s nothing they can do for you. But in truth, there likely isn’t. Nothing we can’t do for you ourselves. Besides, it’s not safe out here. Better to get you back to the castle walls until you’re recovered, to ensure it doesn’t get worse.”

Not safe out here… Something about that didn’t seem right, but what could he even say? It just felt tone deaf trying to argue that when he was in a hospital bed, called lucky that his larynx hadn’t collapsed or that the reduced oxygen to his brain hadn’t caused a shutdown. And it wasn’t like he could try and argue that it was his fault, either.

(Though, if he’d been him, Lauriam likely would’ve tried.)

The group had been friendly, at first. He’d explained that he was uncomfortable, set boundaries. He maybe could’ve left sooner, but he’d still tried to peacefully leave. Everything after had just been self-defense. 

Garden sighed softly, before giving Even a tired, grim grin. “...I look fuckin’ weird at my place, if you want to get your mad science cap on as a distraction.”

“Vexen is working on it,” Even said, standing up with a sigh, “Let me go find the healers, start the process of getting you back to the castle.”

-

Vexen was… working on it? As much as he could, as he stood in front of ‘Garden’, letting his own energy expand out, trying to read both Garden and the world's energy signatures as best he could, though all he could make out… “I keep getting confused on if nothing has actually changed at all, or everything has changed and they’re dead.”

“Well fuck, it’s not going to be that second one, yeah? Let’s all agree on that right the fuck now? Lauriam and Marluxia are not fucking dead?” Xaldin said, crossing his arms with a scowl, “Yeah??”

Garden gave Vexen a disturbed look, before giving more nervous glances to Xaldin and Aqua. “...I don’t think so. I think I am? Both of them? But even saying it like that just feels weird. Because I don’t feel like a ‘them’. I just feel like me.” An irked twitch went through his eyebrow. “...which encompasses everything both ‘Lauriam’ and ‘Marluxia’...which feels weird saying my name as if it isn’t.”

“You’re never not full of mysteries, love,” Aqua sighed, starting to rub his back again. It was confusing, but whatever was going on, he’d called her mom, and Garden did feel like her sons. And, as her sons had just gone through a severely traumatic experience, what, like she wasn’t going to comfort him? Get real. “Would it feel weird if I just called you ‘Lauriam’, then?”

Garden paused before nodding, jaw clenching lightly. Just being called Lauriam, even if he was, feeling too much like people wrapping Marluxia up into an implication of Lauriam. Like he was a part that didn’t matter to the point of not even referring to him by name. 

“But he’s not just Lauriam, right? He’s flower too. Ya know. The ‘whole garden’, if you will?” Xaldin argued, “...right?”

“Based on how we understand and define memories? He’s both.” Vexen nodded… before adding, “But based on how we understand individual consciousness in a shared mind? He’s a new person. And they’re gone.”

“Vexen, friend, I’m gonna fucking slug you if you say that again.” 

“I’m trying not to deny a very real possibility in front of us,” Vexen frowned, “I refuse to do the ‘pretend Terra’ thing all over again. We are not burying ourselves in denial, to force everyone to not even be allowed to grieve.”

Garden had given a stern nod to Xaldin’s point before he looked up at Vexen in alarm. Lauriam and Marluxia didn’t feel gone or dead or anything! If asked if he felt like either, the answer to both was ‘yes’! The thought of his family needing to grieve him was…

“It’s not fair isolating someone from the connections they still have, too,” Aqua said quietly, something ashamed but not beaten in her expression as she held Garden firmly against her in a side hug. “This isn’t a recreation of memories. He is them.”

Garden melted against his mom for a moment, deeply appreciative as he took her conviction to give himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “...I don’t think this is the first time I’ve felt like this. ‘We’ve’ felt like this. It’s just…the first time it’s looked like this.”

He attempted a small, sarcastic smile towards Vexen and Xaldin. “‘We’ did agree on 50/50, right? And your plan, Vexen, was for interchangability. What’s more literal to those ideas than this?”

Vexen winced, looking away for a moment. Clearly conflicted… before his shoulders sagged and he nodded. “... I suppose that could just be what this is. Perhaps your body or consciousness couldn’t keep that divide when both sides of you were so determined to keep things working simultaneously for them both, and… perhaps this incident simply pushed it too far. And this is your body or consciousness correcting itself.”

“Right, sure,” Xaldin nodded, waiting a beat, “...is this just for now, or?”

Vexen knew Xaldin was looking his way. But Vexen had no idea what to say. He had no idea how to explain this, or what to expect. He had never felt like less of an expert on Empath abilities in his life. He just… didn’t know…

“I hope so,” Garden grumbled, the slight pout to his disgruntled expression looking remarkably clear. Perhaps because it was a look found on both Marluxia and Lauriam time to time. “It’s annoyingly difficult to get any thought out when every fuckin’ thing to say contradicts itself.”

“Yeah, well, you arguing with yourself is nothing new. Alright, sure, this is… probably fine?” Xaldin said, gesturing to all of Garden, “You probably just need time to recover and shit! Hell, it’s an improvement from the last time you mentally shifted into something else. You guys remember ‘Glowing Ball Lauriam/Marluxia’? Sure, he could rock some sunglasses and a hat, but this is still a marked improvement.”

“...sure,” Vexen said tiredly, looking grim, “An improvement.”

Xaldin looked at Vexen… before shaking his head. “Alright, Vex, maybe you should go take a break. Seems like you’ve got all the info you’re going to get, correct? Go, take a break, before Garden ages you a decade.”

“I don’t age in that way.” Vexen said simply, before tiredly nodding. “Call me if anything strange happens.”

Garden looked a little sheepish there before rubbing the back of his neck with a wrinkle in his nose. “Uh…yeah, I think we narrowly avoided ‘terrifying monster transformation’ time, mostly ‘cause I was really tired. Am, actually. But considering I can still think at all, I will take this over being reduced to base essence entirely.” He glanced at his legs. “...even if this is very strange.” 

Quietly looking between Xaldin and Vexen, Garden smirked lightly. “Don’t tempt fate with weird brain stuff I can do. I’ll see you later, Vexen.”

The parting was interrupted as Garden gasped through a noogie, cringing under his mother’s assault. “Don’t antagonize your uncle when he’s trying to help you.”

Vexen opened his mouth like he wanted to reassure Aqua… but he hung his head and left. A defeated aura about him. 

{Hey man, I know you’re going through some stuff too, but I’m tagging you in for Vexen?} Xaldin sent to Luis, {Latest Lauriam thing is hitting him hard, not sure why. Go do your bartender thing.}

{...yeah okay. I can probably manage it. I’m on it.}

Xaldin felt a little bad about sending Luis. The guy was prepping for rehab, and even the prep work to go was proving to be an exhausting process. Luis was going to, at some point soon on a designated date, ‘surrender’ himself legally to the rehab center. It was essentially a volunteer prison, Luis would not be allowed to leave if he asked, because half the point of sobering people was that at some point in the process they always asked to leave. And the rehab’s job was to not let them.

It was scary as fuck and if they didn’t have a thousand reassurances from Ienzo’s aunt that this was legit, no one would be letting Luis do this. But Luis had to go, and he was struggling with the nerves and anxieties of it as the date crept ever closer. It was taking a lot out of him.

But Xaldin knew he could count on Luis to get Vexen to confide in him. Luis was good at that, even at his most out of it.

So Xaldin focused on what was in front of him, which was… his boyfriends! Mostly! As much as it was usually them, during moments like these! Giant flower monsters, balls of energy, now a whole new guy! Whatever, nothing they hadn’t handled before.

“Alright, so… okay, can someone fucking explain to me again exactly how this happened?” Xaldin asked, mostly to Garden, “Even’s keeping me updated, what were these, brain vampires?”

Aqua gave Vexen a worried glance as he left, but seeing it on Xaldin’s face too she trusted that he had it covered. She’d probably pop by the lab later regardless, but for now?

Given reprieve, Garden accepted Aqua’s reparations of running her fingers through his hair, getting it back in order as he leaned against her before he sighed. “As valid a guess as anything. I’m positive they were eating me, but I’m not exactly littered with bite marks and missing chunks. And they had some sort of,” Garden grasped for words for a moment before letting out a dissatisfied sigh, “something at least not our type of psychic going on. It was weird.”

“Love, why don’t you start from the beginning,” Aqua suggested, trying not to be so outwardly disturbed by the idea of someone eating her kids.

Nodding, Garden closed his eyes for a moment as he rested against her. “...one of them, a woman named Mouse, approached me while I was taking a walk in town. She said I had ‘vibes’ and asked to show me some cool places to hang out in town, and…”

A conflicted strain wobbled through his expression. Lauriam and Marluxia feeling quite different about that idea. “...I feel like sometimes I don’t know how to do anything other than nothing. I feel like a loser just whiling every day away waiting for it to be over. I know I actually want to live, I want to have fun, but I don’t know what that means beyond general ideas. It seemed exciting, seeing what people do in this city for fun. Mouse talked about it musically too, and I’d love to be able to show Larxene around different music scenes when you all get here.”

“It did seem weird when she said the place she was showing me was in an old sewer, but she really wasn’t lying about that. Even if she was trying to lure me somewhere, I think they genuinely do hang out there,” Garden continued with a mild grouch. “I wasn’t sure about it, but as we got closer, some of her friends were around and they were just…friendly. Excited for a meal, I guess. And I was curious.”

His eyebrows knit. “...their actual hideout reminded me too much of our room, and by then, I figured out something was wrong, but…” Garden frowned more, looking at the upturned dirt in front of him. “...they were clearly starving. Like, to the point it looked like all of ‘em had lost a bunch of weight. I thought maybe they wanted to mug me or something, but that didn’t make any sense and…I just figured that if I left? They’d just get someone else, and at least I know how to defend myself…”

“And it was weird, but mostly fine? We were just talking and listening to music, but it was…hard, being there. And when I tried to leave, they really tried to convince me not to, but…” Garden’s eyes went glassy as he curled in towards himself, looking markedly uncomfortable. “...I guess, whatever they were doing, they were able to eat me already, and…you know how good food tastes when you’re starving. They were moanin’ and shit, one of ‘em tried to grab me… I freaked out. Which freaked them out that their meal was leaving, so they tried to hold me down and…”

A pained wince went through Garden’s face as he held himself and curled against Aqua. Even thinking back on it in a calmer environment he could feel his heart picking up, the lurching nausea of dread of just…being back there. 

“...it felt just like trying to fight the supervisors. I thought I was gonna die…” Garden flinched more, squeezing his eyes closed tight as his fingers dug into his biceps. “I-I remember thinking that Izzy’s parents were strangled, I couldn’t do that to him, going like that.”

“Damn right you couldn’t. And you didn’t. Kicked ass, is what you did. Seriously, four against one, and you got all of them? Damn impressive.” Xaldin grinned, walking over to Garden and tapping him on the shoulder. “I’m honestly surprised they managed to take you down with them.”

Xaldin was grinning… but he still wrapped an arm around Garden’s back, pulling him in for a firm hug. “You did fine. You’re fine. You won that fight.”

Garden forced his eyes back open at the tap, and the resulting smile wasn’t forced. Tired, still a bit scared, sure, but…proud, in the face of that praise. Four against one weren’t odds you ever wanted in a fight, but…here he was. Freaking his family out over what happened, but not what was still happening, in a hospital bed instead of tied up in a bunker, made prisoner once again. 

A shudder went down his spine as Garden hugged Xaldin back, taking a deep breath in his boyfriend’s arms. 

“If you were doing all that while trying to give the benefit of the doubt, and all tied up in social convention? I know what we could practice physically was limited, but that just goes to show how fantastic of a fighter you are, love,” Aqua hummed softly, her voice soft but bursting with pride as she watched Garden and Xaldin hug. “You owe me a full-out spar when we meet up again. Plenty of time to heal, right?”

Garden snorted softly, burying his face in Xaldin’s shoulder. “I’d hope so. Cracked ribs only take a few months, I think.”

“Eh, you’ll get there before you know it. So will we,” Xaldin said, rubbing Garden’s back… before sighing a little as he heard footsteps coming up, “Didn’t we all have some sort of whole discussion about not overwhelming this world–”

“Lauriam! Or, uh, Marluxia! Or…” Dilan paused, stopping a few feet off, brow furrowing as he looked at the person leaning against Xaldin’s shoulders, “...I swear, usually I can always tell the difference, I have no idea why I’m struggling right now. Am I going senile? Is this what going senile is?”

“It’s Lauriam and Marluxia,” Xaldin called back, “Rumors of anyone being dead are entirely speculative!”

“Dead!?”

Garden peeked up at the footsteps before--semi-reluctantly, though it wasn’t so much so because it was for Dilan--lifting his face more from Xaldin’s shoulder, offering Dilan a slightly amused, consoling smile. “Definitely not dead. In a weird-ass state, but by this point, what else is new?”

Pushing herself up with a huff, Aqua walked over to meet Dilan, giving his arm a squeeze before nudging him towards Garden and Xaldin. “Alright, I can let boyfriend time just be boyfriend time. Hopefully I can fend off some questions from the teens before they barge on in here too, though I’ll be back to check on you later?”

Something fatigued ran through Garden’s eyes at the mention of the teens--that was a whole conversation he’d have to have later--before he gave Aqua a small nod. “See you, Mom. I’ll probably just be sleeping after I’m discharged from the hospital, so I’ll be around.”

Dilan gave Aqua a concerned look–she seemed tired, but really, that was to be expected at this point–but also a grateful nod as she gave him space to join in. Xaldin, though, was less accommodating. Giving Dilan a raised eyebrow as he approached, making zero room for Dilan to come in as he continued to hug Garden. “You say anything fucked up about his appearance, I’m going to knock you to the floor.”

“You have zero faith in me,” Dilan said, though when he got a good look at Garden’s face, he clearly had to swallow a bewildered observation, just saying after a moment, “You look… handsome. I heard you were kidnapped?”

“Pfff, they tried. He kicked all of their asses.” Xaldin said.

Blushing lightly--wait, he could tell just by the different clothes, his skin, and the length of his hair that things were different, but was there something else!?--Garden cracked a small grin. He pinched a bit of his hair, able to bring the ends up into his vision. “Weird, huh? And I’d hope that…whatever this is, I didn’t turn out hideous. Major ego blow.”

The smile strained more. “I ignored some red flags I shouldn’t have, ended up being a main course and almost put away for leftovers. I haven’t really heard anything about them, but…” The smile dimmed even more, turning unsure as Garden anxiously squeezed his fingertips. “...well, I didn’t kill them. As far as I can tell, I don’t think I’m being charged with anything?”

“Oh, good,” Dilan sighed at word that no one had died, as the same time Xaldin muttered, “Damn shame.”

“Certainly we’re under protection from the Ouma,” Dilan said, finally just wacking Xaldin on the back of the head– “Ow!”--so that the other man would let up on the hug and let Dilan get in there. Xaldin grumbling as he loosened his grip and took a step to the side, letting Dilan lean in to give Garden a kiss to the temple, “And if not, we’ll figure something out. We’re nothing if resourceful, and Atua’s saints are looking after us.”

Garden smirked lightly before something more grim came over his expression. “I’m not going to trip over myself for self-defense, but they didn’t deserve to die. They were desperate, I can understand that. Just shitty the way things rolled out.” He didn’t feel guilty for the actual blood on his hands, but those four? Garden felt like their lives would linger for a long time on him if he had managed to kill them. Even with everything that happened to make him fight them in the first place. 

Sighing, Garden closed his eyes to enjoy Dilan’s kiss, reaching an arm out to steal one of his hands. “I’m pretty sure someone mentioned Ouma being at the hospital handling things, so that’s probably right. …does suck being more indebted to him, though. He’s, like, weirdly patient, I don’t think anyone explained things about Orlette to him even though he’s been checking up with us, but I don’t know how many things we can avoid telling him now.”

“Why avoid it? Tell him all about it! I really feel like you all aren’t taking advantage enough of the fact that a royal family feels like they owe us something,” Xaldin scoffed, wrapping his arm around Garden’s waist, “Take what the Ouma’s willing to give for as long as he’s willing to give it, the guy’s a prince and also borderline cosmic in his fucking Empath powers, that’s a great guy to accept generosity from. Not to mention–”

“Here we go.” Dilan sighed into Garden’s ear, exasperated.

“--the fact that the damn Momota is basically begging us to kick his fucking ass, and as far as I’ve heard!? Zero asses kicked! Not so much as a damn bruise! A Momota is fucking whimpering for it, and no one wants to take advantage, you’re all insane–”

“I agree with you, Garden, though I’ll admit, I can’t bring myself to lose much sleep about their predicament right this moment. I know, of course, desperate circumstances cause desperate reactions. Honestly, that’s the summary of our whole lives, isn’t it?” Dilan sighed, “But… it’s too quick to pretend I can forgive it. Not if it was today. Not if it was you. So while I agree? I also hope they are suffering still. If just a bit.”

They weren’t exactly humbly keeping their heads down, not asking for a single thing, but from what Garden surmised about the way the others were handling the situation? They hadn’t told the other group of Empaths either, so that likely meant it was a matter of pride. Keeping some of the worst bits of their problems quiet to not, as Even once put it, obviously mark themselves as a group ‘historically cowed’. At this point he didn’t think Ouma would really take advantage of that, not in the way that scared them, but there was pride in not going about this new city and life snivelling pathetically. 

And for the opposite?

Rolling his eyes a little, Garden pressed a kiss to Xaldin’s cheek. “I told you about the conversation I had with him. Jerkwad may be all for getting a beatdown, but literally no one else in his family, including the ex-assassin and the fucking god are. That offer is basically lip service. The best we’re going to get is a verbal apology.” Pausing, Garden pouted slightly as his eyebrows scrunched. “...I should talk to him about that again. I don’t think he’s given any to anyone but me.”

His expression easing with warmth and something a bit smitten at Dilan’s feelings on the matter, Garden stroked his thumb down Dilan’s and offered a small, cheeky grin. “Surprising no one, I did bite one of them, and I think it was pretty bad. Only reason it wouldn’t be hurting is a shitton of painkillers.” The grin sharpened, edging into a more dangerous grimace. “Bit hard to avoid that without a fucking muzzle.”

“Yeah, yeah, you told me. ‘I’m untouchable’. We’ll see about that,” Xaldin grumbled, in no way, shape, or form dissuaded. 

But at the mention of the bite, Xaldin burst out laughing, while Dilan smiled warmly, Xaldin snorting through his laughs, “GOD I know how hard you bite when you’re just feeling playful, can’t imagine what you actually putting some pressure into it would look like. I’d have paid money to see that.”

“The supervisors did have to go to some lengths to control you, I recall,” Dilan said, squeezing Garden’s hand gently, “Certainly resulted in quite a few bad days for them.”

Bad days for Lauriam and Marluxia too, but it wasn’t worth saying that.

“I just wish I understood actually what happened. You keep saying they ‘seemed desperate’ and ‘like they were eating something’. That just sounds so bizarre. It’s like they were vampires, but for…”

“Brain vampire, yeah, I already said something similar. Don’t steal my bits.” Xaldin said dryly.

“... I feel like I’ve brushed over the fact that you’re apparently both of my boyfriends merged together,” Dilan admitted, ignoring Xaldin, “That is still very… odd.”

He hadn’t appreciated it in the moment, feeling demeaned by the supervisors, but Garden wondered if Ienzo remembered theorizing about Garden’s bite force, only hampered by the fact he didn’t have the proper tools to measure that physically. If Ienzo wasn’t wholly distracted by Demyx, Garden figured that they should keep an eye on him splurging out on all sorts of scientific equipment. Even with his grant from Maya he’d managed to get a start on his collection. 

“It was always nice, being able to leave a scar,” Garden sneered, also not worth saying that it was nice, considering all the scars the supervisors left on them. Though, he sighed a little after. “I’m just saying what it looked like to me. And considering the weird not-emotion dome that happened, and the fact I’m pretty damn sure getting into a fight doesn’t leave you feeling like you have a bad cold? Something more was going on.” He frowned a little, at that moment remembering what the small woman in his room had said. They were trying to upset him on purpose…

But Garden left that train of thought to give Dilan an awkward smile, shifting a little more in Xaldin’s grasp to more fully face Dilan. “You’re telling me. Sometimes it…” Garden paused, eyes flicking down as he pressed his tongue against his bottom lip, thinking for a moment. “...it’s felt like I’ve…we’ve? Gotten close to this before? But obviously not exactly like this. I’m not really sure what to do, but I think the last thing anyone wants from me right now is to stress out over it.”

“Eh, I still think it’s just the latest plant monster/ball of energy thing. At some point you’re just gonna sneeze and the two of them will tumble out,” Xaldin said.

“‘Sneezing’ was not, I believe, the answer to either of those issues,” Dilan said.

“Like you’d fucking know, you were asleep in the crypt, fuck off. They’re fine, he’s fine, it’ll be fine,” Xaldin said, looking to Garden, “Honestly, we should probably let you rest. Gotta imagine real sleep would help.”

“By this point it may as well be as plausible as anything else,” Garden mumbled, before he gave a slow, tentative nod to Xaldin’s nudge to end the conversation. Looking…surprisingly shy for that sort of suggestion as he glanced to the side, his grip on Dilan’s hand tightening slightly. 

“I don’t…really want to be alone right now,” he mumbled, cheeks pinking.

Xaldin and Dilan glanced at each other… Dilan gave Xaldin a stern look. Xaldin sighed and rolled his eyes. “He’s not going to sleep while we’re here.”

“It’ll be close enough,” Dilan said, having won the quiet argument as he looked back to Garden, smiling warmly, “We’ll stay. Perhaps we can show off some new memories we’ve made lately. I’ve been continuing my exploration of the below city, and found a fascinating series of statues that were nearly entirely whole… well, in comparison to the others.”

The shy look didn’t quite dissipate, but it did break out into a smile, like sunbeams breaking through a cloud. Relaxing more against Xaldin, he hummed, “I’d love to see them.”

-

“You know… sometimes it’s hard to leave this world. My casino,” Luis admitted, leaning against the counter, on the serving side of the bar as Vexen nursed a martini, “It’s the only place I feel okay, anymore. Going out into the world? Always feels like this terrible trap. Having to wake up and see what version of sick I’m going to be that day. Knowing it’s gonna shift hour by hour… have a drink and suddenly it’s too much, and I’m spinning and vomiting. Have a drink too little, and my heart starts feeling like it’s gonna thump out of my chest, and I’m sweating so badly it’s like I’m turning inside out…”

“Only in here does it feel like the way it used to,” Luis murmured, looking tiredly at his own simple ale, “Where I’m just relaxed and airy and happier. Do you think it’ll ever feel that way again?”

“I think my answer would be cruel.” Vexen said.

“That’s alright. Sorry, I’m doing a bad job of this. Supposed to be figuring out what’s got you so down.”

“It’s alright. Honestly, it can be nice to hear how someone else is doing, when I feel like this. Feels a bit cathartic, knowing I’m not the only one struggling with things,” Vexen said, sipping his martini, laced with cherries. “Well, not that there’s not enough suffering going around.”

“He’ll be alright. They’ll? Be alright?” Luis frowned, “...they will be alright, won’t they? The garden lads?”

“They are, currently, in this exact moment, not alright,” Vexen said, glaring at the mirror lining the back wall of the bar, beneath the alcohol bottles, “In this exact moment? They are dead.”

“...I don’t think we should be thinking about it that way,” Luis admitted, wincing a bit, “But I’m assuming that’s why you seem down? We haven’t lost two of ours. They’ll recover.”

“They were always going to die. Only a matter of time,” Vexen said, tapping his nail lightly against the glass, “But I thought I had bought Marluxia more time, at least… but no. He’s gone. I didn’t save him. All I managed to do was make sure Lauriam went down with him. And now they’re both gone. And I’ve entirely failed them.”

“You really are feeling a touch morbid today, huh?” Luis murmured, taking out his shaker bottle and refilling Vexen’s martini. “They’re not gone. At most, they’ve… maybe, sort of, returned to base essence, maybe. And the way Xaldin is describing it? Even that’s not likely. They’re both just still there.”

“You wouldn’t understand. You didn’t separate a part of yourself. Didn’t create someone like me,” Vexen frowned, looking away, “You can’t understand how fragile this existence is… as much as it even is an existence.”

“You exist in every way I can think that matters, so I’m willing to debate any philosopher that you firmly exist,” Aeleus said with a firm confidence as he came up to the bar, putting a hand on Vexen’s back and nodding to Luis as he sat down. “You may level the same point against me, that I didn’t separate myself in the same way you did. I’ll counter that most of us who did conclusively create Nobodies all did the process differently, so you can’t claim to understand their existences if you’re going to claim the same for us still.”

A bit softer, Aeleus announced, “They’re giving him one more check up, loading him up with fever reducers and painkillers, I’d presume, before we can all go back to the castle.”

“‘Ey, Ael,” Luis greeted, smiling tiredly as he shook his own glass of ale, “Can I pour you a cup?”

“Have you all given the new person a name yet?” Vexen asked, sipping his martini, “It’s always good to give the new Nobody… the new chibi… ugh. Can we even call him a new ‘anything’ when he’s ‘all of them’? Is it just Lauriam, whole again?” Vexen murmured, brow furrowing in a near pained look of confusion, “Is it just Lauriam, but unfractured? Was even Lauriam just his own sort of Nobody? The fact that he can take on chibi characteristics lends itself well to the thought…”

“I’ll take one, though I may unfocus if one of the healers comes by with more questions. Ouma seems to be taking on most of the situation from the legal side, so we don’t have to answer those yet.” Aeleus gave Luis a thankful nod.

Rubbing Vexen’s back comfortingly for another moment, Aeleus sighed. “According to Aqua, Xaldin has deemed him ‘Garden’. More of a nickname in my opinion, but I figure we can ask him how he feels about that when he’s not barely hanging on.”

Rummaging in his jacket for a moment, Aeleus took out a book and opened it up on the bartop, his brow furrowing slightly. “...Zexion and Ienzo are deciding to handle these events by exploring the same mysteries you’re pondering. I don’t entirely understand what Zexion was getting at, but he explained it as…”

From the book, a small glowing orb projected above the pages, displaying two differing wavelengths. “By observing the more metaphysical aspects of Lauriam and Marluxia’s mind, I’m told, usually their energy looks like this, in this sort of representation, at least. When Marluxia returned to base essence, it was more like this.” One wavelength warped, retaining a different color and a slightly different wave pattern, but mostly following the first, almost just creating a thicker line. “However, what they’ve observed Lauriam and Marluxia’s mind to be now, is…”

Aeleus frowned, as the two wavelengths separated again, before overlaying in their original shapes. And, as what happened with waves, the peaks and valleys amplified and nullified their complementary and differing shapes accordingly. Creating a new, combined shape. “Still both present. Creating something that looks entirely new.”

“Ooooh… quite the light show,” Luis said, not a small bit of genuine awe in his face, as he poured Aeleus a drink. “Can’t say I quite understand it, but I was always lucky to have my looks.”

“You’re entirely intelligent, Luis,” Vexen said dismissively, though he was looking more closely at the wavelengths his boys had worked out. “...alright, I will concede their energy is still there, still in their same complicated patterns. I am still going to wallow though. No amount of scientific reasoning in the world will keep me from wallowing, by this point.”

“Why? The lads are okay. They’re just… sick again.” Luis shrugged. “Which sucks, but we’ve all gotten through it before.”

“I had wanted to save all of us, by this point. And look what’s happened. Half of our group is separated. Lauriam and Marluxia are still getting beaten and attacked. I don’t have a third thing, but the first two things seem sufficient for wallowing,” Vexen scowled, “Seeing them both die with some new person in their place… it’s too much. I am endlessly exhausted by the tragedies our group faces. I am tired.”

“...I feel ya. But…” Luis frowned tiredly, “...it’s just how things are, mate. We can’t give up. We gotta keep pressing forward.”

“Not this exact damn moment, I don’t have to,” Vexen grumbled.

Aeleus gave Luis a similarly dismissive look at his self-deprecation, though he gave a rumbling proud hum right after. “As much as they hate the process, it seems like Ienzo and Zexion have been putting more thought into how they present information. I struggle to truly understand what they, or even Lauriam mean by how they describe the less metaphorical aspects of minds and psychic space, but it’s clearer to look at this and understand that Marluxia and Lauriam are not lost.”

Because they weren’t. Just…hurt. Again. 

Giving Vexen a quietly fond look, Aeleus heaved a sigh. “Awful, not being that perfect keystone to save everyone. You can temper your expectations to everyone that asks, acknowledging everyone’s contributing efforts and the truly daunting odds in front of you, acknowledging sacrifices might need to be made…” The fond look grew with a small, grim smile. “...but all that doesn’t change that it felt like you could change everything.”

“...once we get Garden settled back at the castle, come with me,” he said after a moment. “I’ve heard word of a good wallowing place.”

Vexen gave a soft, huffing laugh. It was a sad sound. “Cruel, to throw that back in my face. But fair. It just… it really all felt possible, for a moment. A true victory…”

“Vexen, mate,” Luis said, giving him an earnest look, “This is the victory. We won. Sure, it’s not perfect. We’re never getting perfect, it’s not in the cards for us. But it’s still so much better than we ever thought it was going to be, for a long time there… This is what winning looks like. For us, at least.”

“...” Vexen wiped his eyes with an annoyed huff–the mental imitating the physical–before he looked curiously at his partner, “I can’t even imagine what you intend to show me. But fine… I suppose I’ll wait to see.”

-

“…okay, fine Aeleus,” Vexen said, relaxing into the sauna bench, “This is a good place to wallow.”

-

If he was in the mind to care about it, Ienzo would feel a bit bad for the work he was creating for the librarians, but as it was? He was single-mindedly focused on adding to the building-block-like castle structure made of books around him, as he quickly sought and skimmed through psychological and medical books. He simply had to trust that the healers in Dicea would take care of the things with physical signs, but that was far from the whole picture, and Ienzo had doubts there were experts on this sort of thing anywhere in the world. 

Trauma reactions, shock, the nature of ego and identity, systems, dissociation, defense mechanisms, impacts of a lack of oxygen to the brain…

Ienzo dropped the book he was holding as his hands trembled, face absolutely blank.

Demyx was helping!

Well, mostly Demyx was in charge of fetching books Ienzo asked for. In the sense that by the time he had found the book and returned to the table, Ienzo had four new books already added to the pile, Demyx being sent off to find a new book with the absolute certainty that Ienzo was going to collect for himself a dozen more on his own.

But bringing back this latest book, he saw the look on his boyfriends face, and winced, sitting down opposite of him and, looking at him through the hole of the massive tower of books on either side of the table, asked, “Weeeee having a tough time, button?”

“I’m fine,” Ienzo mumbled with an airy robotic-ness that had been easing out of his tone for months. “It’s not all that surprising that the collection of psychological illnesses is meagre. Given some of the statements made in more accessible, overview texts, which claim to deny the existence of certain states and ailments entirely, there’s a vested interest in medical bias. Surely there are still papers being written, as not every healer or scientist would allow something to go unresearched simply because there isn’t money behind it. 

He had been reading the entire time he’d mumbled, but Ienzo then glanced up at Demyx, his gaze so blank it was like he was looking through him. “If you would locate any records of medical funding, that would be helpful--likely in section R, perhaps in the 30-45 row area.”

“Sure!” Demyx said cheerfully, not getting up, “But maybe we should take a break, buddy. Maybe take a walk? You seem… pale!” Demyx smiled brightly, “And blank. Super blank! You are not doing great, just from looking at you.”

Ienzo gave a noncommitant hum before looking back down at the book in front of him, the only movement from him the rapid scan of his eyes as he read. 

{ಢ_ಢ How could he be doing well?}

{இ_இ I know it’s his own bias, and I’ve proven him wrong, at least to my best understanding, but Dad keeps saying that Marluxia and Lauriam are dead.}

Ienzo loudly snapped his book closed, setting it aside and immediately cracking open another.

“I know,” Demyx said, his smile tinging sadly… before he brightened, “That’s why we should get up and walk. Do you want to go walk around that cute market again? The one with all the cats?”

He paused, before offering, “Or we could be a little dangerous, see how far we can sneak into the castle before we have to tell someone we get lost?”

“...Ienzo, I know you’re freaked out. I’m not exactly thrilled either,” Demyx said softly, “But you’re going to make yourself sick.”

A minor crack went through the stone, Ienzo’s lips wavering for a moment. “...Vexen and Even have no idea what to do,” he said after a moment, voice smaller than his previous inflectionless statements. “The person Marluxia and Lauriam are right now seems…stable, I suppose, but not in the fact that they’re like that at all. There is hope that things will normalize once they recover the intense energy drain they’re dealing with right now, but if it doesn’t?”

Ienzo sweat a bit as he looked back down at his book, not even reading the words. “There has to be something to give us a clue for greater understanding.”

{ಢ_ಢ Distracting ourselves won’t change the fact that they’re hurt. And what could we do right now anyway? ‘Garden’ is freaked out as it is, there’s no way he’d want to be an experiment right now.}

“We can still prepare while he’s resting!” Ienzo sniped, gripping the sides of the book tightly. “He’s going to wake back up eventually so there’s still purpose in trying to figure this out.”

Demyx nodded, grinned, and reached forward.

He tapped at Ienzo’s fingers, clutched so tightly around the book. Tap, tap, tap-tap-tappity-tap, before lightly nudging his finger beneath Ienzo’s. Pouting a bit when he found it difficult for even his dexterous fingers to get between Ienzo and the book, “Buttoooon. Hold my haaaaaands.”

Ienzo gave Demyx a consternated look for a moment before forcing his hands to let the book go, shaking slightly from working against that sort of tension, before he acquiesced and held Demyx’s hands. He remained quiet for a moment, before softly repeating to Demyx, “...I have to do something. They’re hundreds of miles away, the only thing I can give is information.”

He couldn’t help press cold cloths--they didn’t have ice--against Lauriam’s bruises, couldn’t take stock of their food to suggest things his older brothers would like, he couldn’t keep an eye on new stitches and be vigilant for signs of infection… The only thing he could do was offer information that hopefully, potentially, would be helpful. 

“...” Demyx closed his eyes, holding Ienzo’s hands. Lightly squeezing them. Rubbing his thumbs against the side of his palms. “Hmmm…”

Then he opened his eyes and said, “Why don’t we just go bother them?”

There was a small twitch in Ienzo’s lips, the hint of a smile. “...Dilan and Xaldin will be pissed if we wake ‘Garden’ up right after finally getting him to sleep.” Not really an argument against not doing it, honestly. 

“When isn’t Xaldin or Dilan pissed about something? It’s their default. Besides, Garden would probably love having us visit. I know Lauriam and Marluxia would. Well, Lauriam would, Marluxia is gonna grumble at us. But he probably also likes it.” Demyx shrugged, sitting up, letting Ienzo’s hands go so that he could stand up and go around the table, “Come on, let’s go back to the house, crawl into bed, and go piss off your favorite brother. Maybe he does need rest! I don’t know! He’ll get it after!”

Demyx held his hands out to Ienzo again, offering him to take them as he said, “We can’t fix him, button. We can’t undo that it happened. But we can go cheer him up. That’s something.”

Ienzo took a deep breath, powering through the points it got stuck in his chest. After feeling that, awful, horrible surge, they had decided to let the Garden Duo come down without an audience, trying out another way to help them considering their more recent complaints about privacy. Zexion, of course, had gone to spy on their world and take stock of the damage, which was how he and Ienzo had learned about Garden and the energy crash in his mind and all that, and Aqua and the Archaeology Duo had gone in, but no one was surprised about the parent and partner pass. 

Everyone else, though?

Ienzo looked blankly at Demyx’s hand for a moment before daintily taking it, his knees popping as he stood. “...favorite brother is quite the definitive statement. I’ve never thought to make a ranking of my brothers, it seemed rude. …and while Marluxia may put on an air of being annoyed, I think he’d really appreciate Larxene checking up on him too, if you’d be inclined to send a message to her.”

Ienzo wasn’t good at cheering people up, in his own opinion. But he could try. And perhaps seeing Garden whole and recovering would help some of his bigger fears about the situation. 

“...I think we could fix him if we can figure out how ‘Garden’ came to be, but I understand your point,” he muttered after a moment, forcing himself to get moving so they could walk. 

“Eh, maybe, but I’m not sure if anything is actually ‘wrong’ with him.” Demyx explained, cheerfully giving the librarian a nod as they headed out the door into the sunlight, “Or, nothing out of the ordinary. Okay, yeah, I knooooow this is unusual! But, like… so is every time those two have some big meltdown? The reaction is never the same, not once. The only thing that’s been consistent about when this sort of stuff happens to them, is that the only thing that fixes it is time. And I really doubt all the books and smarts in the world is going to speed up that process.”

Ienzo squinted, the force of the sun enough to spur a very distinct expression on his face, if nothing else. Eeugh…bright… But it was in that squint that he paused for a moment. 

“...it could, though,” he deftly countered. “One never knows until they make an attempt. Theoretical guidance may not help them process their emotions, yeah, but for the things that are beyond just emotional reactions? Like the very physical, if not psychological reaction happening right now? There very well could be something among the countless years of study within the sum of world knowledge that would be able to help. Even if the total of that sort of help is just an understanding of what’s going on, and the plan forward from it is to wait.”

Though, as he thought more about Demyx’s point of ‘every time those two have some big meltdown’, Ienzo’s shoulders slumped a bit. “I know that their record since Lauriam was reconstituted hasn’t been particularly hopeful, but…do you think it was overly optimistic to think this sort of thing wouldn’t be as common? In the space between personal vindication and, I know the two of them thought it helpful to a degree, drawing malicious attention to themselves, even if they didn’t provoke it, getting into a violent altercation was somewhat inevitable for us. So it would be a possibility that now, without that inevitability, they’d just…stop.”

“Stop which part?” Demyx asked, giving Ienzo a curious look, his face falling a little at seeing the distress on his boyfriend’s, before he sighed and nudged him with his shoulder a little, “Button, please… I promise, this is okay! I mean, not what happened. But they’re okay now. They’re going to recover. Even and Aeleus got there in time, and even if they hadn’t, I heard they had already basically won that fight when those two people stumbled on them. Forget what your dad keeps saying, they’re not dead. They’re okay now.”

“And, if you’re asking if they’d stop getting into stuff, in general? Eh…” Demyx shrugged, “As much as any of us have? Life is terrifying. It could have happened to any of us. It’s not their fault it happened to them… though admittedly their luck is kinda garbage, sometimes.”

Ienzo tilted his head, bonking it against Demyx’s shoulder in response to the nudge. As much as Vexen doomsaying and being in his own feelings that Lauriam and Marluxia were dead was hard to hear, Ienzo knew it wasn’t true, and had proved it too. And from what he’d heard, this fight wasn’t even their fault, even to the point of instigation, but…

“Their luck is atrocious,” Ienzo griped, a small frown making it through his expression. “Even with the best intentions, the number of times things have blown up in their faces is baffling just from a statistical point of view. At this point it’d definitely be too optimistic to hope that would ever change.”

His eyes lowered a bit. “...I suppose there was a part of me hoping that they’d stop throwing themselves at things because ‘if it’s them, it’s not anyone else’, now. That with a lack of constant, overt threats, they’d stop having to be protective in that way. I’m not even sure this fits into that context, but I grew up with Lauriam and Marluxia, I’d like to think I have a good idea about how they think by this point. It’s always been awful watching them splatter against a brick wall.”

Demyx tilted his head, before exaggerating the motion, stretching his neck out. To the side, to the back, letting out a breath. Opened his mouth, thought better of it, shut it… and then suddenly seemed to decide to say whatever was on his mind, “I’ve heard them talk about that before. I’ve kinda never bought into it.”

He winced, looking a little guilty as he said it, but shrugged again, “I mean, I bet they believe it. That the reason they do that is to protect the rest of us. But, like… we all know what it looks like to protect each other. We’ve had to do it so much… and none of it looks like what they do. Putting…” Demyx sighed, looking guilty again, but just kept going, “Putting themselves in the path of the punishments, tempting… ugh, this is why I never wanna talk about this, but tempting the rapes, the focus on themselves. I don’t think making themselves this prime target ever actually spared the rest of us anything. Protecting each other didn’t look like falling on the sword over and over again. It was usually stopping something that was happening in the process of it happening, or helping with recovery, or just hugging each other a damn lot… I don’t think pissing off the supervisors and making themselves a target stopped the violence towards the rest of us. I think it just inspired more violence.”

“No one was taking my beatings just because I avoided beatings. I don’t think so, anyway. I wouldn’t have acted like that or protected myself that way, if I thought that was happening,” Demyx said, frowning, “And I know that’s not what they mean when they say stuff like that, but it kinda felt like they were implying it was, sometimes, when they talked about stuff like that. So it’s made me think a lot about what they were doing. We wouldn’t have gone hungry if they ate, not more than any of us were already going hungry. We wouldn’t have needed more things if they took their share, it was always we were struggling as a group or we weren’t anyway. I don’t think any of the supervisors were like ‘Mmmm, I’d have gotten me some tasty Demyx ass, but, well, Lauriam’s making a bunch of noise, guess I’ll just send that energy his way’. It didn’t work like that. I don’t think so anyway.”

“Maybe thinking it protected us was their go-to excuse, but… I think they just do that stuff to hurt themselves.” Demyx said, “I don’t know why. But I do know that stuff didn’t protect us. And they’re not stupid, so a part of them has to know it didn’t protect us. But they still did it anyway. So… whatever compelled them to hurt themselves in the factory? Yeah. They’re probably still battling that.”

“I think there might be a literal point about ‘running out the clock’ or true distractions,” something a lot of them had done, though in different ways, “but considering we were in the ‘eternal torment nexus’?” Ienzo huffed tiredly. “Whatever the two of them distracted from one day could easily just be pushed to the next, and with compounded irritation in certain cases. And regardless of what they might’ve intended, they couldn’t keep doing it forever.”

For a moment, Ienzo pushed his shoulder against Demyx’s, watching the ground as they walked. Taking note of the patterns in the hall runners. “I think she half meant it as a joke, but Maki told me once she had a therapist recommendation in Usott. Perhaps I should ask her about that offer in more seriousness.” It wasn’t even that acknowledging Lauriam’s self-harm and Marluxia’s enablement of it was a new revelation. This just seemed like an opportunity to do more than sigh about it. 

Ienzo sighed quietly. “...this sucks.”

“I know,” Demyx said, their resident coming up, giving Ienzo a quick kiss on the head as partly a warning before he gently led him to the staircase up to their door, “...but this is the best version of this we’ve had.”

Opening the door, Demyx looked around to see if anyone was in the living areas– nope– before leading Ienzo inside, heading upstairs, “I feel like I need to explain myself, because I think you’re wondering why I’m not more freaked out. Yeah, it’s bad they were attacked. Yeah, it’s bad they’re doing another, like… brain transformation thing as they recover. That sucks. It sucks that this keeps happening.”

Leading the way to the master bedroom, Demyx opened it up to lead Ienzo inside as he said, “But this is the very first time that this has happened? Where they’ve been genuinely safe after the fact. We’re not locked in a room with our attackers. We’re not living on the street or in a weird outcast-royal sex manor. I hear they’re in a hospital! When has any of us ever actually gotten access to a hospital?”

“And yeah, we can get them a brain doctor,” Demyx nodded, heading to the bed as he kicked his shoes off, “Isn’t that cool that we can? That we actually could reasonably do that? Isn’t it kickass they went to a hospital and now they’re going to their room and no one is going to come in the middle of the night to hit them or molest them or suddenly say quotas are behind and we all need to get up earlier?” Demyx hopped onto the bed, letting it bounce him a bit, before grinning at Ienzo, “Button, this is the best version of this we’ve ever had. They were found. They’re recovering. They’re safe now… it’s alright. Everything is okay… as okay as it can get, sometimes.”

The blank look started to ease as Demyx spoke, and by the time they’d made it to the master bedroom, Ienzo was smiling softly. Stepping out of his shoes by the door and flopping himself on the bed next to Demyx, Ienzo just lingered quietly in those words for a moment. 

“It is,” he agreed softly, smiling just a bit more. “Though I found living with Maya agreeable. And as much as Zexion told me ‘Garden’ notably asked several times to leave, I am interested in hearing what a hospital’s actually like. And it’s cool that they could defend themselves, and for all intents and purposes it seems like that’s completely fine. Dad said Kokichi was handling most of the legal issues so I don’t know the details, but it is seeming like nothing’s going to happen, in terms of backlash.”

A twinkle of mischievousness glimmered in blue eyes. “More poor treatment may not be waiting during ‘Garden’s rest, but it’s not to say they won’t be disturbed. Should I expect you to hide behind me when we wake him up?”

“Pffff, what, you think I’m going to start volunteering for my beatings now? I have a great record! Can’t throw it away on them!” Demyx laughed, hugging around Ienzo’s middle and, nuzzling into his neck, “I know you’ll protect me~”

Demyx gave Ienzo a kiss on the cheek, before laying his head down on the pillow. Closing his eyes.

-

“Oye!” Larxene shouted, knocking heavily on Marluxia’s door again, looking agitated, “Ey! Ey! I heard we were partying! Don’t tell me I poofed into human form for nothing! Ey, ey, ey, ey!!”

With a small, bleary sound, Garden woke up, frowning as he reached out onto more solid grass and pulled himself out from the loamy mess he’d half sunk into in sleep. The blanket falling from his shoulders did make his heart warm a bit, but he would’ve appreciated it if his boyfriends had deposited him somewhere a little more stable when he’d fallen asleep. 

They probably thought it was funny, the assholes. 

Rubbing his head with a small sigh, Garden was alerted to what woke him up in the first place, hearing the knocks on his door. Had he locked it? Somehow?

A little unsteady as he pushed himself up, Garden ‘opened’ the door and ‘pulled’ his guest through, his face brightening as he saw who it was. “Larxy…hey!”

Larxene crossed her arms, looking him up and down, settling her feet into the grass as she raised an appraising eyebrow… “How are you both hotter and kinda dorkier looking? Your hair looks terrible. You look like you’re trying to outgrow a bad haircut.”

Garden rolled his eyes, scoffing as he settled on one hip. “Like you’d fare any better mixing with Dem-Dem. Antenna mullets I dooooon’t think are in right now.” Making his point, he poked one of the strands sticking out from Larxene’s usual slicked back style. Though, immediately after, he grimaced. “Is it really that bad? I can see the ends but I haven’t chanced looking in a mirror yet.”

“Why not? What, think it’ll give you a crisis? I think you’re well past crisis management here.” Larxene said, gesturing meaningfully to Garden’s, uh, everything. “Besides, the hair sucks, but it’s not all bad! Your face actually makes you look a little tough for once! You’re not competing to out-twink each other anymore. Maybe it’s because you got this way in the middle of fight? Which I want to hear all about, by the way… where the heck would I even make a mirror in here?” Larxene grumbled, looking around. 

“It wasn’t exactly first on the to-do list,” Garden sighed, rolling his eyes a bit at Larxene’s analysis of his face--thanks Larxy, always nice to know what you usually think of me--before listlessly looking around the torn up field. “There’d probably be a good way to do it, but I might actually lure Vexen back in here to throttle me if I tried. If I had the energy to try anything, I’d probably work this whole thing out first,” he gestured at his everything.

At the mention of it, Garden swayed slightly on his feet, before he gave Larxene a fangy grin (canines not as pronounced as Marluxia’s, more exaggerated than Lauriam’s). “They mentioned something about me fracturing one of the bones around my elbow? Think I managed that busting one of the others’ chests in.”

“Gods, what a bunch of idiots. Who looks at you and thinks you’d make a good kidnapping victim? You have crazy eyes. Both of you.” Larxene huffed, shaking her head at the stupids in the world, before looking around the area again, “I thought Demyx and Ienzo would have beaten me here. At least Zexion. They were the ones who told me we were coming to annoy you. They didn’t show?”

ㅍ_ㅍ It seemed polite to let you two catch up first.

ㅍ_ㅍ And to avoid the wrath of anyone but you waking him up, Larxene.

Garden jumped slightly from Zexion appearing behind him, before he narrowed his eyes at his little brother. “...you have one chance to tell me you haven’t been here literally the whole time.”

ㅍ_ㅍ Incorrect, I left to help Ienzo sort some reference materials, and I spoke to my parents for a bit.

“You are encapsulating a brand new phenomenon,” Ienzo said, shameless in his justification even if his small smile softened upon seeing Garden. “It’d be a loss to not try to understand what’s happening to you.”

Garden could only sigh. “...I’m not doing any experiments for you. I’m not about to kick you guys out, but I am supposed to be sleeping right now.”

“Holy shit! Okay, I know you were supposed to be some weird Lauriam/Marluxia soup before I got here, but it is WAY trippier seeing it in person!” Demyx said, peeking out from around Ienzo’s shoulders, Garden seeming adequately placated after talking to everyone else, “You look older?”

Garden twitched, levelling a glare onto Demyx. “Brotherfucker, I may have just finished a fight but that means I’m more than warmed up.”

Ienzo couldn’t help huffing a small snort--brotherfucker? Really?--before he surged forward, stopping Garden’s irritation in its tracks with a tight hug around his chest. Garden blinked, startled at ‘sudden Ienzo’.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

And all puffery deflated as Garden returned the hug, dropping his head down onto Ienzo’s to envelop him more. “Same, Izzy. But you know me--have to be a hell of a fight for me to lose.”

Popping to human size, Zexion’s eyebrows scrunched slightly as he looked Garden over with a small frown. “...you’ve never called him Izzy before.”

Lauriam almost exclusively used Ienzo’s full name. Marluxia called him ‘Enzy’ or one for a few distinctive epithets. For the most part, ‘Izzy’ was Luis’ name for Ienzo, if one that Aqua borrowed every now and then. 

Demyx and Larxene both tilted their heads to the side, but it was Larxene who had the eureka moment first, “It’s a mix of their nicknames for you! Well, as much as just calling you your name is a nickname, which in this group it half is, since you all want to change each others names so much. You know. ‘Ienzo’. ‘Enzy’?”

“Oh yeah,” Demyx nodded, Larxene swelling with smug pride as he agreed with her, “So uh… I guess that means their brains are mixed too? If their speech patterns are mixed? I can kinda see why Vexen was such a hard sell on this then, you do kinda seem like a new person. But in superficial ways. Like mixing the colors red and blue and coming out with purple. The red and blue are still there… I feel like I could have come up with a better example, but you all get what I mean, right?”

Garden had frowned lightly, not having thought anything of the name. It was just what came out. Though as more purposeful reasoning came to light? Parting from his hug with Ienzo, giving his brother a small, comforting pat on the shoulder, Garden hesitated before saying, “But I don’t feel like anyone new. Like, I know it’s weird, I’m not trying to say it isn’t. But I’m not some, I dunno, more than the sum of their parts, Lauriam-Marluxia new flavor. I am Marluxia. And I am Lauriam.”

Zexion shrugged a little. “I think the fact that you can say that is something new, however, in a distinctively different way than Ienzo could say I am him, for example.”

“Before we knew more about the nature of Chibis, at least,” Ienzo added, giving Garden a mildly curious, though concerned look. “...though, perhaps, those kinds of questions might be more fruitful when you’re less injured.” In another glance, Ienzo noted Garden’s dirt-smeared state, along with the tattered field. It wasn’t uncommon for Marluxia and Lauriam to be covered in dirt and grass-stains, of course, but…

Garden sighed and lightly ruffled Ienzo’s hair. “Hey. You know Mom stirred up a few rainclouds already, stop fretting about it.”

“Look, I don’t think it’s saying anything ‘shocking’,” Larxene grinned, letting static run over her skin for a bit, “To say we are half making this shit up as we go. The titles, the classifications, I mean. Maybe we’re ‘chibis’ now, but we sure as fuck weren’t a few months ago, and a few months ago no one had any idea what the hell we were. I’ve heard the golden cat say we were a ‘hivemind’ once, and that feels wildly off, but then he explained what being in a Flora hivemind was like, and you know what? It does look a lot like this! Only without one of us just never leaving all the worlds, ever.”

“We went into the factories… well, you went into the factory,” Larxene clarified, pointing to Demyx, who shrugged, “did a weird sort of lobotomy on yourself, I popped out, and was ‘Larxene’ waaaaaay before I become ‘complicated’ enough to be classified a chibi. And even now, I don’t know if we’re exactly what that freak Amaina-chan is either. That one royal, the hot one–”

“Maya?” Demyx asked.

“No, the other hot one.”

“Kaito.” Demyx nodded.

“Yeah, him! I heard he asked Isa if he was a ‘shard’ when they talked at the game. So HE’S got a whole different name for what he thinks we are, based on what he’s heard!” Larxene huffed, crossing her arms and shaking her head, “We have no fucking idea what’s going on. The best we can do is guess. If the non-twink version of Lauriam and Marluxia says he’s both of them, and that feels true? Fine! Going by our best guesses is how we’ve done everything else! Why the hell not?!”

Zexion shrugged again. “Largely, labels are only created because of the human--and even that is a label I’m using loosely and perhaps with dangerous assumption to mean sapient beings I’m familiar with--desire to categorize things. Bitches love patterns, and we are bitches. However, the issue with labels is that there are always more granular differences that would require exceptions or changes to definitions, rendering most labels useless for certain settings, or if one is trying to create a conclusive definition for something. As much as they can be useful shortcuts for problem-solving--” He gave Larxene a small nod. “Ultimately, how an individual feels is the final say for anything.”

Garden gave Zexion a tired grin. “If you can convince your dad of that so he stops telling everyone I’m dead, that’d be great.”

“We tried.” Ienzo shrugged a little. “We’ll likely keep trying.”

“Best I can ask, I suppose,” Garden sighed, before giving the group a small smile. “...so, Larxy already asked for it, but can I guess you guys came by to hear what happened too?”

“We heard what happened. You got sorta kidnapped and then kicked everyone’s ass.” Demyx said, looking curiously over Garden, “Though, the explanation for why you got kidnapped was sort of weird. Something about you feeding them?”

Garden’s eyes lidded as he ran a hand through his hair, keeping his disturbance at the texture inward. “Brain vampires.”

Dual blue blinks surrounded Garden. 

“Elaborate.”

“Brain vampires,” Garden repeated, shrugging a little, “Or that’s why Xaldin called them. I don’t actually know what they were doing, but they wanted to eat me and certainly weren’t holding back, so the explanation? They were eating something that wasn’t physical.” He frowned lightly, thinking back on the tidbit he’d set aside. “...actually, one of the people that found me said that…they were trying to upset me on purpose. So it’s maybe something about that? But Even told her to fuck off, basically, and I was having trouble talking so I didn’t think to ask her before that.”

Zexion’s lips slanted down, annoyed, while Ienzo tapped lightly on his chin. “I don’t suppose you picked up her energy signature?” At Garden’s head shake, he just muttered a small, “Damn…”

Talking about finding out something, though, reminded Garden of yet another, and with a blink his eyes widened as he brightened and turned more towards Larxene and Demyx. “Oh! But, actually--part of the reason I was talking to them in the first place. There’s this type of music they had on that’s nothing like I’ve ever heard before, it’s called metal?” 

Looking around for a moment, Garden stalked off, stumbling over himself dizzily as he scooped a snapdragon from the ground and returned to them. “Listen.”

“Hey, don’t fall! You sort of look like you’re gonna fall. Sit down, sheesh.” Demyx sighed, flopping down onto the grass as a display of what to do, “Sit, sit!” 

But admittedly, it was hard to stay seated when his eyes widened, both him and Larxene leaning forward eagerly, as music started to thump from the flower…

“What the hellfires is that!?” Larxene finally gasped, while Demyx whispered, “Wow.” “How are they even making those sounds!?”

“That is really cool! I think I’ve heard something close to this, but this is a really polished version of what I heard. This was played by an expert!” Demyx said enthusiastically, banging his head a little, his hair flopping back and forth as he did so, “This is a mosh song, no doubt! Did you go to a mosh pit? That’s pretty cool, honestly. Even considering brain vampires.”

Wanting to contribute to peer pressure, Ienzo and Zexion joined the little sitting circle Demyx and Larxene started, and with that Garden had no choice but to join. However, he sat straight with a pleased, self-satisfied look on his face as Demyx and Larxene gushed over the music.

(He wouldn’t endanger himself just for music. But it was nice that one of the things he’d gotten out of the experience was something his friends liked. It didn’t exactly feel worth it, but the feeling was close.)

Ienzo looked entirely phased out, nerdy analytical mind no doubt putting every resource into taking in the song, while Zexion gave Demyx a quizzical look. “What’s a mosh pit?”

Garden gave an easy grin. “If it’s a room in a sewer, yes, but no otherwise. They had this playing on a record player, but Mouse made it seem like there were live performances sometimes, however much her word means now. And they all acted like metal’s pretty common--they were shocked when I said I’d never heard of it. It’s gotten more popular post-war, apparently.

“Maybe it hasn’t crossed the border yet?” Demyx wondered, still bobbing his head to it, “And a mosh pit is where you go dance in a crowd, but with the explicit goal of everyone fighting each other. Or, sort of fighting, more shoving each other. It’s like shove-dancing as a group. It’s fun!”

“You say that like you ever stayed in one. I bet you kept to the sides of mosh pits every time you were in one so you could duck out once it got too scary.” Larxene sneered.

“You get zero points for guessing that, we literally share a brain.” Demyx huffed, before grinning at Garden, “I think you’d like a real mosh pit. It kinda makes you feel like the more aggression and boldness you bring into it, the happier everyone is with you. The sort of place you could show off.”

“Hm,” Ienzo hummed softly, voice so soft it was swallowed by the memory. 

“Yeah?” Garden grinned sheepishly, though his tone was thoughtful. “I half feel like you’ll tell me that and then I’ll have to have a very embarrassing conversation with, like, security or whatever for taking things too far. If it’s mostly shoving, I don’t exactly have the mass to do that without run-ups.”

“You’re getting older, you’ll gain weight,” Zexion hummed off-hand, giving Ienzo a curious look, though he winced at the brutal ear pinch he earned for those words.

“Hey! Be nice to my boyfriend! My other boyfriend will beat you up.” Demyx threatened, while Larxene gave him the driest look imaginable. A damn sahara’s worth of side-eye, for that. 

“Annnnyyyyyway,” Larxene said, sticking her pinky in her ear and cleaning it out a little, “So, are we getting vengeance on the brain vampires? Good music taste or not, they did attack you. New enemies?”

At that, some of Garden’s levity and life drained, leaving him looking just as tired as he assuredly was. He heaved a small sigh. “Not without getting in legal trouble, apparently. That woman in my room said that how that sort of stuff works here means keeping our groups apart and letting authorities deal with the fallout.”

There was clear hesitation on Garden’s face as he paused, so Zexion prompted, “...and?”

Garden grimaced. “...I believe it when she said it was a one-time thing. I don’t really get the, like, mechanics of what happened, but I do recognize that they were starving to fuckin’ death.” Looking down, Garden’s eyebrows scrunched as he frowned, speaking slower as he thought. “If they needed to be around someone that was upset, then…they didn’t need to trap me in a room or try to tie me up or anything. If they were desperate enough to try that in the first place, then maybe i--”

Ienzo’s face cleared from thought, his voice hiccuping through a crack as he snapped incredulously, “You are not suggesting to just give yourself to people that just tried to kill you, Garden!”

“No!” Garden sputtered, before looking a little more unsure, “No? I’m not - I know they tried to kill me, I’m not brushing that off!”

Demyx scratched his chin, pulling his legs up to his chest to rest against them, “...did you like them?”

“What? No way… did you?” Larxene asked, legs spread out, laying back on her palms. Both of them giving Garden quizzical looks.

“I barely had a single conversation with them, how would I know,” Garden grumbled, shoulders tensing defensively. 

And even more at the softer look Ienzo gave him, though his little brother still looked a bit incensed, as Ienzo said, “...did they like you?”

Though, just seeing the confusion that went through Garden’s face, Zexion cradled his Lexicon in his lap. “Let’s call it what it is, then. In trying to manipulate you to kidnap you, did they compliment you? Acted friendly, seemed to treat you as ‘one of them’ right off the bat, promised something fun or exciting?”

A flush bloomed over Garden’s face as he growled, “I-I’m not stupid! I didn’t just think everything was fine up until they were pulling me to the ground!”

Zexion wasn’t phased. “You’re not stupid, but as much as you can manipulate others, you’re incredibly easy to be manipulated.”

“Bitty Button.” Demyx frowned, picking up a small piece of dirt between his thumb and forefinger, and flicking it over at Zexion. “Come on, give him more credit than that. I wasn’t trying to suggest he was being manipulated… I mean, you were, but that wasn’t my point,” he said to Garden. 

“I think I know what you were getting at,” Larxene ignored Demyx saying ‘you still get no points, we share a brain’, as she guessed, “It’s like how it felt with the Indentured, right? I mean… it was hard not to get attached, sometimes. A relationship is a relationship, even between torturers and torturees, predator and prey… I bet even farmers get attached to slaughter animals. If a cow could talk back, we’d all be so weird about it.”

“Uuuuuh… kinda?” Demyx frowned, “I was thinking of how we got attached to the people who were forced into our worlds, but then you took it to a weird place.”

“Life is weird, gotta deal with it, you brat,” Larxene said, “It’s like kismetic flirting. It’s hard not to feel something for your enemies. I’d say ‘even if you only knew them briefly’, but let’s be honest, you all fought to the death, that had to be soooooo emotional and bonding. Xaldin and Dilan have competition.”

“Okay, she took it entirely way too far, I did not mean all that,” Demyx said dryly, “I just meant maybe any enjoyment you got out of spending time with them was still legit, because we used to like spending time with our Indentured too.”

Zexion shrugged a little. He’d watched Lauriam and Marluxia be manipulated by the people around them for the majority of their lives. He’d watched his Dads stress out over the fact that the Garden Duo were easily manipulated for almost the same timeframe. If the group that kidnapped them had acted like their friends in order to do so, it made sense that Garden would have reservations in his opinions of them, having felt like a friend.

Though, there were more complexities involved than that aspect too. 

While something pinged in Garden’s head around the concept of ‘prey’, inspiring a brief worried, docile expression, he frowned, listening to Larxene’s point. And Demyx’s point too, he supposed. Though, as he ruminated on that, he scoffed lowly. “It’s already annoying enough trying to convince Even not to go after them, it’d only be the difference stopping Xaldin saying something like I was technically in one of them.” His eyes lidded a bit. “Or not, really. He and Dilan are way more reasonable about everything.”

Ienzo gave Garden a bewildered look for a moment before he nodded. “Ah. You bit one of them.”

“Yeah.”

“Ouch. Also, gross.” Demyx pouted, nose wrinkling. “Did you get blood in your mouth?”

Garden gave Demyx a flat look. “No, I thought in a life or death scenario I’d just give a friendly nibble. Of course I got blood in my mouth, Dem-Dem, Axel ran back to the castle to get me a change of clothes before going back because the ones I’d been wearing were splattered.”

Ienzo’s expression grew more worried. “Wait, did they cut you too?”

Garden sighed, tangling his fingers in his hair. “No, I think it was just from thrashing around by an open wound. After they started strangling me I kind of lost track of what was going on.” Immediately he regretted saying that, though, seeing the way Ienzo tensed and glanced at his neck.

Demyx noticed it too, scooting over to Ienzo and pressing his arm against him. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d have probably fallen for the same thing. Some folks wanted to show me a cool music hangout spot? I wouldn’t have hesitated hearing it was in a sewer. Sometimes music is in weird places.”

“I’d have at least mugged them,” Larxene said, almost entirely talking out of her ass… though she smirked, something dreamy in her eyes as she said, “Or at least enjoyed the chance to make someone sing in pain again. I miss it, sometimes. I bet it sounded magical. Honestly, some things are wasted on you, Mars.”

Almost thoughtlessly Ienzo pressed back against Demyx, though he met Garden’s eyes before he could think to say anything about that.

Instead, he just huffed a little. “That’s what I thought! Even after explaining about them, it wasn’t like I didn’t know it was still sketchy, but guess what, stuff off the beaten path is in weird, sketchy places not a lot of people go! And I half thought their plan was to mug me.”

And while he hadn’t wanted to get into a fight, had tried to get out of the situation before it came to that, maybe there was something to be said about the satisfaction of holding his own in a fight, but as Garden opened his mouth to say that, something distinctly confused came over him, words catching in his throat. Even when he tried again to say them, swaying slightly in his sitting position. 

Zexion glanced around before cracking his Lexicon open and taking notes, particularly noting the increase of temperature. There was a certain stability they all could expect from their worlds, even at their worsts, because of each world being supported by the island, so…perhaps noticing a reflection of the fever he’d heard Garden had developed was intriguing.

“You good, uh… what do we call you?” Demyx asked, fairly sure Ienzo had said something about it, but not able to remember it now.

“Garden,” Larxene said, “Xaldin named him garden. Kinda kinky, getting to name your boyfriend. Feels possessive.”

“Do you have to make everything weird?” Demyx asked, giving Larxene a tad desperate look, before going back to Garden, “You good, Garden? You look kinda woozy.”

Slumping over his lap, Garden held his head in his palms, managing a small groan after a moment. “...it makes sense when Xaldin says it, but it sound fuckin’ weird whenever anyone else does. I already have a name…”

Shifting on his knees, Ienzo pushed Garden over (though it was more meant to be a coaxing nudge) so that he was lying down. “...though perhaps it creates some trouble for you at times, considering Lauriam would have no reason to join in on a conversation Marluxia and Larxene are having. Please answer, are you okay?”

“...think I might throw up, maybe,” Garden mumbled, looking a bit pale on the ground. “Head hurts.”

“Maybe you should be resting. Who’s crazy idea was it to wake you up?” Demyx asked, before wincing as Larxene kicked his knee, “Ow??? Cruel?????”

“Look, should we go or not? You look like you’re going to vomit. Which, I should stress, is a weird thing to do when you’re just a mental projection,” Larxene told Garden sternly, “And you’ll probably puke on yourself in the real world too. Gross.”

“Gross.” Demyx agreed, nodding somberly. 

“Horrible,” Ienzo muttered, looking disturbed. 

“Mean I might throw up physically, smart-ass,” Garden grumbled, before taking a sharp, shaky breath and pressing his hand to his forehead, mussing his bangs. “...I dunno, I probably should be sleeping, so, whatever. Whatever. And if you want to be weird about it, call me…Mariam, or something, if I’m a mix of myself. Whatever.”

As, well, Mariam grouched disconnectedly about it, his eyes glazed. Mariam in his room at the castle getting up with a hazy, quick breath and pushing himself to the connected bathroom, hunching over the toilet.

It was pure coincidence Ira was walking past Mariam’s door when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps inside. In truth, his first thought was ‘intruder’ rather than that it was Lauriam himself running around inside. Ira didn’t sense another person inside, but that wasn’t always reliable for him, his ability to find energy signatures around him nowhere near most of the others’ levels. So worriedly he tried the door, vaguely thinking he’d have to tackle someone as he was surprised to find it was unlocked. 

“Lauriam?” He called inside, looking for the attacker… but winced as he heard the sound of retching. Ah. Different problem. 

Clammy with sweat and flushed with fever, Mariam panted over the toilet, even through the cocktail of painkillers he’d been loaded up with feeling a pang in his side from his ribs. No blood in his puke, though, and he felt like it would’ve come up in the hospital if the ribs were worse off than he thought. Though while the dark bruises on his side weren’t as bad as the purple and red splotchy ring around his neck, they sure didn't look great. 

…what was he doing?

Voice. 

Glancing back over his shoulder for a moment, seeing a blur of blue, Mariam mumbled, “M’okay…”

“I don’t believe you,” Ira said plainly, though he didn’t feel a need to explain himself. Seemed sort of obvious Mariam wasn’t okay. Though, what to actually do about that Ira felt less confident about.

He considered calling for help immediately, but, well, maybe they wouldn’t need it, as he asked uncertainly, “Can I get something for you?”

Mariam scoffed wetly as he curled an arm on the seat of the toilet, resting his head on it. Just…breathing. “Mean it’s not…like ‘m not suddenly dying, or in immediate trouble. Smart-ass.”

He paused for a moment before asking, “Water?” Sure, sure, the sink was right there, but…that’d require standing up. And standing up sounded horrible right now. 

Ira nodded. Water was easy. Better, cups always seemed to be available in bathrooms here. An expectation that you would drink from the faucets. It was nice, one of those small things Ira considered a massive luxury, in Dicea. Less so for growing up in a desert area where water was strictly limited in some areas, but more because it had been very limited in the factory.

Filling up a cup, Ira brought Mariam the water. “I’m sorry you were hurt, Lauriam. I’ve only heard a little bit what happened, but it looks like it was worse than the rumors suggested.”

His hand only shaking a little, Mariam accepted the water, taking on the great task of lifting his head so he wasn’t drinking right on top of the toilet. He didn’t care how thorough the cleaning schedules were here, that was a grossness too far. As he sipped, though, he felt part of him bristle. 

Oh, so Ira wasn’t sorry Marluxia was hurt?

…he didn’t mean it like that. He thought he was only talking to Lauriam. 

“Worse even than that,” Mariam grumbled before he sighed, angling himself, if he couldn’t rest on the toilet, then to lean back against the sink counter as he gave Ira an exhausted, yet grimly amused look. “...hey, you’re a big psychology nerd, right?”

“A bit,” Ira said softly, shrugging, “As much as one year of college could allow. Why?”

Honestly, if the twins hadn’t been able to find anything with the mountain of research they’d doubtlessly been going through, Mariam doubted it from Ira. But it was still fun enough to ask, “So you kinda clocked the Nobody split as DID--got any names for the opposite?”

“Opposite?” Ira sighed sitting down against the opposite wall of the toilet, scratching the side of the face, “Actualization? Where the person affected by the split personality recognizes themselves as one person, embracing their characterizations in their personality as traits rather than individuals? Or, uh… I don’t know. Regression? Where you’re so overwhelmed that you become a ‘simpler’ version of yourself, for however you can define that. I don’t know much about regression other than sometimes people express it as literally de-aging in personality. Acting like children or babies or such.”

“...why?” Ira asked a touch warily.

“Mm…no. And, like, maybe when I started singing instead of talking, but not now for the second one either,” Mariam airily considered, closing his eyes as he focused on his water for a few moments. Not answering Ira right away. 

“...turns out there’s another level of broken my brain can get, beyond what we already knew,” he hummed, before coughing lightly, gingerly touching his fingertips to his damaged throat. “I’m a mix of myself, and apparently with the worst haircut of all time.”

Ira’s eyebrows lightly raised… before he glanced meaningfully at Mariam’s hair. “I think you probably just need to brush it, it looks fine otherwise to me.”

“I’ve been sleeping, no shit,” Mariam grumbled, before shaking his head. “My projection. Larx said I’ve de-twinkified, but I’m not sure she’s always the best judge on that, since twinks are, like, small.”

“I’m considerably less educated on what makes someone a twink, I’ll admit,” Ira said idly, tilting his head a bit as he looked Mariam over. Sighing, he pulled his hair out of its ponytail, just wanting to re-put it back up in a slightly more comfortable way to lean against the wall with, even pulled up the blue still flowing over his shoulder as he leaned back. “But if I recall right, Larxene is a part of Demyx, yes? And since meeting him in the game, I’m not sure if I’d trust his judgment on who’s ‘small’ either. He keeps hiding behind people he’s notably bigger than, he really cannot seem to judge it.”

“...so who are you, then?” Ira asked.

“She has her own reasoning, apart from him,” Mariam said a little testily, before he sighed, sagging against the counter. “And you’re mostly right, but Dem-Dem hiding behind Izzy or Zexi isn’t really a size thing. Unless I missed something big, I don’t think you’ve ever seen them seriously fight, but that’s mostly because the two of them are very good at not letting things get to the point they’d need to seriously fight. Being behind them, and more importantly, being someone that they’d consider protecting, like Dem-Dem, is actually a genuinely safe place to be.”

He shrugged tiredly. “They may be scrawny dorks, but you’ve seen Aeleus. For a guy that never gave up on any of us when it came to physical aptitude, he doubled down on his sons.”

…who are you, Mariam?

Red and blue, or purple?

Mariam sucked on the inside of his cheek for a moment before taking another sip of water. “...Lauriam, still. But also Marluxia. At the same time. Xaldin called me ‘Garden’, but since he already uses nicknames like that for me, it sounds weird coming from anyone else, so when the others got their undies in a twist about it, I figured people could just call me Mariam for now.”

“Mariam,” Ira agreed, crossing his legs and resting his elbows against his knees. “The younger ones are worried about you. I don’t know if that’s worth telling you, they clearly have good reason to worry. But I overheard Even telling them to leave you be for now. I didn’t understand why when I overheard it, but I get it a bit better now. You’re a bit alarming to look at, right now. The bruises are bad.”

Mariam winced hearing that. Something pained straining through the fatigue in his eyes. “...they’ve seen me near my worst before, but just because of necessity.” He gave Ira a small shrug. “By the time they came along, we had a few bedrooms, but I shared one with them. And it was hard to hide things when you had to go through our group spaces from where the supervisors would throw us back in.”

He smiled grimly. “I have a feeling some of ‘em felt better about things if they could help hold bandages ‘n shit.”

Mariam let his gaze fall to his chest, not bothering to strain his neck looking all the way down, but able to see the bruises at his side. 

“...think if I put a shirt on and a scarf it’d be less alarming?”

“Maybe,” Ira said, frowning, “Though, I’ve heard they have bruise creams in the medical ward here. Maybe I could go grab you some, I think it’s meant to reduce the swelling and coloring.”

“I doubt over the course of like five minutes,” Mariam grumbled, before sighing. “...you know, if it helps lower Even’s concerns faster so they don’t have to go around his back, sure. Thank you.”

Mariam glanced awkwardly around the bathroom for a moment. “...could you help me get back to the bed first, though? I think it was only that Larx, Dem-Dem, and the Dork Brigade already expected me to throw up on myself that let me get over here.”

“Sure,” Ira said, getting up and giving Mariam a hand up, letting him lean on his shoulder as they shuffled back to his bed. 

He helped Mariam sit down, before promising to be back with the cream soon. Heading off. 

Inside Mariam’s world, Demyx and Larxene both squinted at him. “Think he passed out on the toilet?” Demyx asked.

“Is this what happens to passed out people when they’re not two people? Weird. How does anyone cope?” Larxene huffed, reaching out to poke him.

Eyes a sliver open, Mariam laced his fingers with Larxene’s, except for their index fingers and thumbs which he used to press into hers in a heart shape. Voice going cutesy and twee, even if it was slurred from fatigue, Mariam cooed, “Aww cuuute~ ♡ Larxy-Warxy wants to heal me with a wuv beam~ ♡”

Zexion tilted his head a little. This did not disprove the ‘passing out on toilet’ theory. Judging solely by Marluxia’s mannerisms, his voice tended to just get sweeter the more annoyed he was.

Larxene stuck her tongue out at him, taking her hand back. “I dunno, could still be passed out. Who knows how these ‘one-person’ types work.”

“I dunno, Marluxia being an ass is a good sign, I’d say!” Demyx said cheerfully, “Like, sarcasm takes energy, right? Maybe he’s perking up!”

“Fuck off,” Mariam sighed, letting his hand flop back to the ground. “You know, if you really wanted to know, we actually have people who’ve been one person this whole time. And I didn’t pass out.”

Mariam’s eyes lidded. “...Ira’s helping me see what we can do about letting the teens visit me without getting even more traumatized.”

Ienzo frowned in concern. “It’s that bad?” Swallowing, he tensed as he explained, “Neck trauma does look very severe, so I suppose we could already surmise that. But I believe that nine times out of ten, regardless of what you look like, the Heart Trio would prefer to see you, and, considering your cognisance, confirm your well-being as much as that’s possible. Even if Namine has checked in on you.”

Mariam blinked, reminded of that possibility, before grimacing. “...wasn’t exactly looking out for camouflage.”

“Eh, to be fair, I think everyone else thinks you’re literally asleep.” Demyx shrugged. “Also, yeah, the odds one of them hasn’t peeked in here at least, at some point?” Demyx said, gesturing to Mariam’s world, “Is pretty low. Especially Namine. She loves to spy.”

“Okay, okay, but imagine being alone in your head, like… entirely,” Larxene insisted, eyes full of pure astonishment as she imagined, “Not connected to everyone’s world, not split into two. Actual. One Person.”

Demyx nodded along… before frowning. “Wait, I don’t have to ‘imagine’ that, that’s literally what all of our lives used to be like. I’ve still spent most of my life just being one guy alone in his mind… Okay, I guess in that context, I’m entirely alone in that here, all the rest of you have spent most of your lives doing this. So, I’ll tell ya! It’s… pretty unremarkable, you hardly notice it's happening.”

Mariam sighed and rubbed his head. In some ways, seeing him like this was just as alarming as seeing his physical injuries. But…it wasn’t really as if they could hide either forever. As much as they did try to shield the kids, the Heart Trio and their Nobodies had seen more than their fair share of the cruelties and horrors of the world. And seen their family hurt and scared and beaten. Acting like there was some innocence bubble around them that the group had a duty not to pop was just ignoring all the pain the kids already had and had seen. 

…still, if he had a chance to control the setting, he didn’t want to scare them even more than they were. 

Demyx brought up the excellent point that he was the outlier in the ‘most of your life having your mind to yourself’ camp, though Ienzo scrunched his nose with a grimace at the concept. 

“It’s awful,” he said emphatically, Zexion nodding with distaste in agreement. 

“I think Mr. Filled My Head To Bursting might be a little biased,” Mariam muttered.

“Ienzo just likes company,” Demyx shrugged, “Zexion too. If Larxene wasn’t such a dick, maybe I would have made dozens of her too–OW OW OW!”

“Say it again, I dare you!” Larxene cackled, throwing her arm around Demxy’s neck and started zapping his skull by tapping it, “Come on, you can say it! Go ahead, speak!”

“St–ow! Ok–OW! – UNCL–OWW!”

Zexion raised an eyebrow at Larxene. “...would you seriously want to share a stage with wannabes?”

“Don’t logic him out of his punishment, he just called me a ‘dick’. I’m at least a bad-ass bitch,” Larxene huffed, zapping Demyx another good shock before letting him go.

Demyx’s eyes warbled as he scooted closer to Zexion, leaning his head against him. “༶ඬ༝ඬ༶Bitty Buttooooooon.”

Well, he’d tried.

Sighing softly, Zexion wrapped his arms around Demyx and rubbed his head in what he intended to be a soothing manner. “If I had to make a guess, I’d think you’d get too bored to even begin to make multiple Larxenes in the first place. It wouldn’t click with your creative sensibilities. It would be intriguing, at the least, seeing all the I’m imagining wildly different egos you’d be able to spawn, though perhaps more chaotic than we as a group would be able to manage.”

“You’re the baddest bitch,” Mariam sleepily affirmed, “And as much as the privacy seems nice sometimes, I don’t think most of us could function being truly alone in our heads anymore. It’d be harder coming over for concerts, at least.”

“I don’t want to be alone. I was literally just saying how weird it sounded. Like something out of a sci-fi book,” Larxene said.

“Again, literally most everyone does exactly that. Including me, still most of my life. Though, I guess there will get to a point where that’s not true,” Demyx mused, already cheerful again as Zexion gave head rubs. Hell yeah. He had the best boyfriends. “Hey Mariam, Ira feeling you up with cream yet?”

Mariam flipped him off, before closing his eyes, letting his focus shift back to the physical world. The one full of dulled ache and gross sweat and the biggest tired cotton-y feeling he could get without having been tranq’d. Ugh. 

Sighing, Mariam pulled his blankets up higher, even if he knew he’d just have to push them back down for the cream.

Ira came back with a small tube of cream, knocking before heading in. “Alright, I’ve got it. No idea how effective it is, but it might help with the…” Ira gestured to Mariam’s neck. “All of that.”

“Thanks…” Mariam held his hand out for the tube before, with great reluctance, pushing himself up. For a moment he just lightly grazed the tender spots around his neck, eyes unfocused, before he shook himself and unscrewed the tube, starting to apply it. “Any news from the world beyond the door, other than ‘people are worried’?”

“Apparently Prince Kaito is pretty upset about all of this,” Ira said, looking around, like he was expecting suddenly for someone to be there to scold him, before leaning in to gossip, “I heard it from Xigbar. Apparently the princes aren’t entirely on the same page of how to handle it. Xigbar said he’s deferring to Kokichi, of course, but apparently there’s still some debate about it. Which Xigbar only knows about because the boys, of course, have been spying.” Ira sighed. “Well, long enough for Kokichi to notice and scold them about it.”

“Seriously?” Mariam glanced up to Ira with disbelief in his face, pausing for a moment before reminding himself to keep applying the cream. “Every conversation I’ve had with the guy makes it seem like Kaito takes Ouma’s word as gospel. They’re seriously fighting? Over what?”

“As far as the rumor goes? I think just a firm punishment for the group for attacking you. Though I don’t really know what kind of punishment he wants,” Ira said, frowning in a bit of worry, “He doesn’t seem the type, but a Momota? I could imagine it’s something… terrible.”

He watched Mariam apply the cream, before offering, “I can put it on the back of your neck.”

Mariam matched Ira’s frown. He didn’t think they did executions like that here, and besides, something like that, for him? Sure, sure, he had the fancy papers saying he was a Dicean, but he was still some nobody (ha) recent immigrant that just got into his own mess. And it’d kinda be ripe for Kaito to insist on a harsh punishment when all they could get from him were words. 

For a moment, Mariam just looked at Ira at his offer. Something a little…well, if he were honest, scared wavering in his stomach. 

But Ira was his friend. And none of that was his fault. 

Hesitating a moment more, Mariam nodded and handed over the tube before he turned around. “Thanks, I’d appreciate it.”

“...I’d think to try and talk to the princes, but everything I heard made it seem like my involvement is done, from a legal or action standpoint.” Mariam frowned at the wall. “Maybe I could just to find out the people that found me. It’d make sense to want to thank them, at least, even if Uncle Even’s scared them off.”

“I wouldn’t get involved. But, we both know that might be more of a personality difference than sound advice.” Ira shrugged.

Taking the tube, he laid the cream out across his fingers, before saying aloud, “I’m about to move your hair up.” He gave Mariam a second to register what he said before gently pushing his hair up. Then he announced, that same matter of factness to it, “I’m going to put the cream on the center of the center of the back of your neck. Spread it out from there.”

Another second to let him process, before rubbing the cream onto the center of Mariam’s neck.

“I could probably get the name of those two for you. I’d be surprised if the boys or Xigbar haven’t found out yet. They’re kinda nosy,” Ira said.

It…helped. It sucked that it had to help, that Mariam still felt his breath stutter, still gripped his blanket too tightly in his fists, but the narration and factual tone kept his eyes from burning or his head drifting off into space all over again. It didn’t feel like Ira was about to choke him again, he didn’t touch anywhere else, Mariam didn’t feel like he was in danger. 

Just…a friend helping him out. 

“Personality differences aside, I don’t think I want to get too involved. Just…one of them said something back at the hospital that’s been bothering me. She might have some answers I want.” Smiling tiredly, Mariam swallowed and tried not to form any thoughts about that, with Ira’s fingers gently running across the back of his neck. “I think, ‘could be professional stalkers’ is a closer description. But, yeah. If they’re willing to share and don’t make you trade for anything, I’d like to know. Don’t think I’ll be sauntering out of the castle any time soon, but time isn’t really of the essence.”

“I won’t trade anything for it, I’ll just ask,” Ira agreed, finishing smearing the cream on the bruises, before backing up, passing the tube back to him. “Here, let me know if you need anything else,” he said, like he was going to get up and go.

But he just sat there, on the edge of Mariam’s bed. Attentively waiting for a next request.

“Thanks,” Mariam said again, taking a moment to breathe before he turned back around, lifting his right arm slightly to dab cream into the bruises on his side. Though, as Ira sat there, Mariam blinked at him. “...you good?” Mariam tentatively asked, tilting his head slightly. “You look a little…”

The only words that came to mind were ‘zoned out’, but that wasn’t quite right. Mariam knew what a ‘head in the clouds’ expression looked like--he’d seen it on Ienzo’s face most of their lives. This was far more locked in, but with a sort of detachment that was similar to what words he’d been going to use. 

He didn’t think this was the problem, but Mariam still tried, speaking slowly, “You know you don’t owe me anything, right?”

Ira shrugged. “I know. I just don’t have a lot to do right now,” he admitted, suddenly looking a little tired, “Don’t really know what to do with all of this extra time, if I’m honest. Helping you out while you’re struggling seems like a better use of my time than trying and failing to read another book today.”

“...turns out, when things finally calm down?” Ira said tiredly, “It just means your mind won’t let you stop reliving stuff every quiet moment. I try to read a book? Suddenly I’m in the factory again. I try to look into access to the schools, find information? Suddenly all I can think about is spending hours soaking up puddles on the road. Try to take a walk? And I realize I’m forgetting the faces of the friends I watched die.”

Ira paused. “...this feels easier, than trying to relax. Relaxing is painful, right now.”

…

Mariam understood that better than he’d like. More than he wanted to. 

He gave Ira a small, sarcastic smile. “Turns out, unless you’re one of the pitiful ones that dream about the stuff you’re actively thinking about, sleep is a great way to pass time and not think about how fucked your life is. Though the rest of my family might tell you that’s a pretty shitty coping mechanism. ‘Cause it kinda is.”

Mariam glanced around his room listlessly. He didn’t want to send Ira on useless chores, even if that’s what he wanted. He wasn’t Xigbar. But he understood the need to fill up time. 

“...have you ever done loop braiding?”

“Sleeping also doesn’t really feel safe,” Ira admitted, “Honestly, that might be more Xigbar’s influence than the factories. Things would sometimes happen at night there, sure, but Xigbar didn’t like any of us being idle in that way. I think he worried it’d be bad for us. Maybe he’s right. But sleep does sound appealing, if it didn’t feel like someone would be angry with me.”

“Loop braiding?” Ira frowned, shaking his head, “I’m not sure. What is it?”

“We’ll get you there,” Mariam decided, nodding a little. “I think I once slept for close to a hundred hours, and while that’s with technicalities, it’s still hefty enough of a number that we can get you some peaceful naps eventually.”

With a small, triumphant smile, Mariam pointed to the small sack on the room’s desk he kept his embroidery supplies in. “Perfect. If you’re learning then that means you’ll have to focus on it more.”

“It’s a specialized form of weaving, I think,” Mariam shrugged, “Some of my sister’s friends used it to make friendship bracelets, and I learned from them. Didn’t really have anything string-like to spare, other than frayed strands that’d come off of clothes or blankets, but I still liked to make them when I could.”

As Ira returned with the bag, Mariam shook out some of the supplies, several twists of differently colored embroidery floss his goal, but a half-embroidered handkerchief falling out as well. It was clearly in the style of embroidery that he’d seen in Grasmere, but with his own twist, the red pattern on the black cloth unmistakable for anything but flames.

Ira gave the material some mild interest, good-naturedly taking some of the floss offered to him, and watching closely as Mariam started to show him the process. It wasn’t tricky, but it did take a bit of learning, and Ira’s hands were slow and clumsy as he practiced.

“Have you told me before that you have a sister?” Ira asked.

There was a reason Mariam had thought about loop braids over some of the other crafts he knew. A big reason was because he had the supplies, sure, but also it had come to mind because, while some parts could get mindless once you were confident, for the most part it took a lot of dexterity and focus in that dexterity. And every time Ira could potentially get comfortable and the thoughts crept back in, Mariam could show him a new pattern to add to the braid. 

Resting with some pillows propped up against his headboard as he watched Ira’s progress, Mariam blinked at him before frowning softly. “...had. For Strelitzia, anyway. I know my mom talked about her to you guys.”

“Not as much as you might think,” Ira admitted, “We heard more about you both once we were out of the factories. But I’ll admit, it’s been so long since she mentioned her daughter that I forgot she had one. In retrospect, talking about her might make her sad.”

Mariam hummed softly. How some of them had acted when they first met, it’d felt like Linnea had talked all the time about him and Strelitzia. But maybe that was just recency bias, or some similar term the nerds would use. Lauriam seeming very relevant with him right in front of them. 

He’d had to take Strelitzia’s necklace off in the hospital. Thankfully, Aeleus had left it on the bedside table, even if Mariam’s neck was still too tender to wear anything around it.

“...I didn’t talk about her at all for 14 years,” Mariam admitted, before grimacing, “Didn’t think about her all that time either. Not on purpose, anyway. It hurt too much. Took my boyfriend and nosy brothers to force me to, to even really confront…”

He sighed. “I know you’ve talked about it as a liability that tied your and Invi’s hands, but…I’m really glad you two have each other, Ira.”

“I can admit, I’m glad for it too. Though, I feel compelled to add, I’d have rather she just had a normal, safe life… but then, I wish that for myself too.” Ira shrugged, carefully working on another loop, “Some things don’t need saying, but I’d have still felt bad suggesting otherwise.”

“Fourteen years is a long time,” he murmured, “It can be difficult, remembering the length of time you all spent in the factories. I guess I don’t actually know how old you are. I’ve always assumed you were close to my age.”

Mariam laughed softly. “Okay, yeah, I wish you guys had had a safe, happy life faaar away from any factory. But you know what I mean.” He might not know Invi that well, and he was still getting to know Ira, but he could tell they meant the world to each other. Losing a sibling he was close to had destroyed him. Mariam was just glad the twins hadn’t gone through that. 

Reaching over to tighten one of the loops, Mariam sighed. “I think I’m 26. One year younger than Dem-Dem, which is how I’ve tried to remember it over the years, at least since he showed up. But I’m not entirely certain. None of us are.”

It was a little easier, since he’d been able to confirm his birth year with his mom and compare it to the current date, but that sense of uncertainty had never left him.

…actually?

Frowning lightly, Mariam looked up at Ira, searching his face. “...did…you guys have clocks in your factory?”

Ira nodded. “Big ones, the kind you could see and read across a factory floor. We used them to make sure we got certain tasks and chores done in time. Why? Didn’t you?”

Another difference. 

Mariam rubbed the back of his hand lightly as he shook his head. “Our supervisors actively fucked with our sense of time. We could notice certain temperature changes that I assumed had to do with the seasons, but we’d all be in our thicker clothes and one of them would say something about wanting to finish up early to celebrate All-Saints Day. We were expected to get up at 7 every day, but Izzy had a theory that they changed the light cycle and when wake-up call would be to basically any time.”

Mariam gripped his hand a little tighter. “...Tengan would erase the memory of the date each of us got brought in. Our birth dates. Anything we could possibly use to confirm the passage of time, he blocked. We found a few workarounds here and there, but mostly we just didn’t know.”

“That sounds cruel for its own sake,” Ira frowned, his loops coming in a little more steadily, “But that doesn’t surprise me. That man was often cruel for its own sake. I really believe he got off to misery. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Mariam griped, his voice coming out lower with the annoyance. But even if it was a conversation he hadn’t necessarily had with Ira (he had. In a frenzied fit sheltered from the rain, Lauriam had admitted something he’d never told anyone else. Hadn’t even told Marluxia until that point. One of the more personal and traumatizing cruelties Tengan had inflicted on him.) there still wasn’t much to say. Tengan was a despicable motherfucker and he was glad he was dead.

So it was a brief pause before Mariam asked, “So, how old are you, then? If you thought we were around the same age.”

“23,” Ira said, “So not that far off. But that’s still surprising to me, that you’re 26 and you lost your sister fourteen years ago. You really have been in the factory for half your life. Well, I guess a little less than half, now.”

Mariam hummed softly. “You’re Izzy’s age, then, huh. Weird. Though, yeah,” he shrugged, “A few of us have that ‘honor’. I remember Izzy marking his as some sort of fucked up occasion to not-celebrate. Think most of the older adults in our group passed that point too.”

His gaze softening and unfocusing, Mariam softly explained, “One of our older members, Viz, she only died a few years ago. Old age. She’d gotten in in her 20s, so I think she’d been in there for, I dunno, something like 50 years?” Mariam smiled bittersweet. “She was one of the silliest and most playful people I’ve ever met. Never gave a single fuck. That’s already admirable, but knowing how long she’d been in, she was someone to look up to, you know? That our lives could be more than pain and grey walls.”

Ira’s hands stilled, staring at the fabric. “...fifty years…”

He started to loop again… then stopped… tried again. Put down the floss as he murmured, “Fifty years…”

“...” And then Ira put his head in his hands and started to cry.

Mariam’s head jerked back up (ow…) and his eyes widened as he stared at Ira in shock for a moment. But he was no closer to processing thought when he scooted towards the edge of his bed and put an arm around Ira’s back. Letting his friend cry on him, to at least not do it alone. 

Fifty years was horrific. That dawning horror that each of them had had to go through, realizing oh. They were actually going to spend the rest of their lives here. They were going to die in the factory, their lives stolen. 

That had been the same for Ira. But with a much shorter timeframe. Fifty years was still horrific, but…in certain cases, maybe it sounded like an impossible blessing. Maybe it sounded like hellfire. 

Mariam held Ira’s shoulders more firmly, very gently rocking him after a bit. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in a stuttering breath, leaning into the rock, accepting the comfort even in his embarrassment, “It’s just…I can’t understand it, sometimes. How cruel the world can be. Fifty years in that terrible place?” Ira gave another shuddering breath, the horror running through him again, spilling more tears. “We didn’t deserve this… how could they have done something like that…”

Perhaps Ira had just felt too used to horror, for a moment there. It had gotten, in the factory, to a point where expressing horror at the death and terror and exploitation around them was almost a selfish desire. Burdening the others by your own inability to cope, to despair or weep or be terrified. There was no time for such things. Everyone needed to get on with getting on. To not manage that baffling and frustrating to the group.

But the horror of their short lives in the factory, which had felt so unfair in comparison to the decade the Nobodies had gotten, now seemed like a gift, in comparison to fifty years. Fifty years wasn’t favoritism. Fifty years was an unspeakable cruelty. Unfathomable.

Again Mariam blinked at Ira, before he glanced away. Unsuccessful this time in avoiding the burning in his eyes that preceded tears. Still, he kept Ira in a hug. 

“...you’re alright,” he murmured after a moment. “Sometimes I forget how awful it is for people who didn’t go through it. Just kinda sprung that on you…I keep doing that.”

Mariam clenched his jaw as he saw his vision start to blur. His lips trembling for a moment. “...after my mom, Aaxqu, became Terra, Larxene starting saying this thing: ‘The island never forgets’. We’re a big fucked up puddle of each other, but it means that the parts of us used to make the island never really go away, even after someone dies. So, in some ways, it means that we all got out. Viz, Inzi, Dad… Everyone I never even met too.”

Words stalled for a moment, as Mariam worked to get them out without his voice breaking. “...so they’re all free now too.”

“No, it’s alright. Apologies, I shouldn’t get so emotional,” Ira whispered, wiping his eyes as he started to calm down, “Your experiences should be shared. If not to me, or someone like me, then who? Who else would understand?”

“The island never forgets… sounds almost religious. But, then, perhaps it’s the closest thing for someone who grew up, has only existed, in a landscape entirely in the mind. If everyone you’ve ever known is connected to an island? I could imagine that would make it feel… all encompassing.” Ira murmured, looking in concern at Mariam, “Did you hurt yourself, coming to comfort me?”

Mariam huffed a wet scoff. “Your emotions are what they are, don’t apologize for feeling something. It fucking sucks. Honestly, someone else crying about it reminds me that it does, actually, suck as much as it does. Fuck knows I’ve blown up around you enough, you can have a few sniffles, I think.”

Still, he looked away once he was sure Ira was alright, embarrassedly wiping away his own burgeoning tears. 

“She does give off those vibes sometimes, yeah. But she’s hardly wrong. For those of us who spent most our lives in the factory, that also means we’ve spent most our lives connected to the island, and for our Nobodies? Even if they have the Somebody’s memories, they’ve spent all their existence as them with the island. It’s a pretty major part of us.”

Mariam let go of a slow sigh, running a hand through sticky bangs, just barely not getting his fingers caught. “Nah, just turned my head the wrong way for a sec. Not about you, really.”

Ira nodded, giving the bruises a sad look. “You have a lot of memories that must haunt you too. Does this new one compare?”

Mariam frowned a bit, not liking that look. “...we’ll see, I guess. It’s not a pleasant one, by any stretch of the imagination, but I think ‘almost dying’ is a hard category to get a nice memory out of.”

He let out a small huff after a moment, dropping his head into his hand to try and soothe it more. “I don’t know where the hell I got the idea. I know some shit about Atua because one of my boyfriends is a big believer, but I’m not really that religious myself. But I have no idea where… There was a moment I thought I might see my dad again, because we would’ve died the same way? In the middle of everything, that felt almost…peaceful.”

Ira just looked a bit more grim at that… but he sighed. “...sorry, this doesn’t come natural to me. Would you like a hug?”

Mariam laughed softly. “Maybe a small one. The painkillers are still working, I can tell, but I have a sneaking suspicion I might be pushing my luck with my ribs, and I’ve forgotten about my arm almost entirely, which’ll come back to bite me later. But, yeah. Comfort me up, ponyboy. Get some bedside manner lessons.”

Peeking back at Ira, Mariam gave him a small grin. “You cannot be worse than Even and Vexen, so you’re not actually working from zero.”

Ira smiled lightly at that, before carefully, gently, giving Mariam a hug. Keeping in mind his arm and keeping his arm around his back, just giving him a small hug… and compulsively giving a small ‘pat-pat’. “That man does seem a bit… high strung,” Ira admitted, “I imagine that can get challenging.”

Letting out a slow breath, Mariam found himself relaxing a little in the hug, smiling slightly at the pats. He had no dearth of it with two loving boyfriends and two parents that loved to fuss, but it was nice, being held. Always made things feel like they were that much more okay. 

“They’re absolute lunatics,” Mariam correctly flatly, before huffing, “that care about us more than the whole world. You can--correctly--complain about their methods, but you can never argue that whatever they were doing wasn’t intended for our family’s sake. Even hates going up against daunting odds, but if Izzy or Zexi asked him to, the world would have a very formidable mad scientist to contend with.”

Sighing softly, Mariam slouched against Ira’s arm a bit. “...wish I didn’t stress them the hell out all the time, though. Not great, being the problem child. Whatever he’s off doing now, I hope Aeleus has convinced him to chill out for a bit.”

“I understand that,” Ira said, giving one final pat, before gently untangling himself, “I mean, I’ve told you how I feel about Xigbar. He’s…” again, that nervous glance around, like he was expecting to be spied upon, “...insane. And can be cruel. But it’s hard to resent him, because I know how sincerely he’s trying to look out for all of us. That all the methods he used kept people alive, in the factory. And I understand how hard it is to stop, now that he’s out. That he spent too long inside the factory and it unhinged him.”

“We owe them a lot, the people who kept us alive in the factories,” Ira murmured, looking at his hands, “...it’s hard, knowing I need to start telling him to stop. I feel ungrateful.”

Mariam took a lot of issue with Xigbar, and that was no mystery to Ira. But, taking a breath, he tried to consider things as if he was talking about Even. Sure he’d never exactly been quiet about the issues he had with Even past the first year or two when he’d barely spoken up about anything, but…well, Ira was right to draw the comparison. Even if something happened you felt was wrong, it was hard to argue against it when it was happening to keep everyone safe. 

Mariam thought about his plans to get his own place, away from all the others. How Even had called the hospital ‘not safe’. 

Putting a hand over Ira’s, Mariam hoped to draw his gaze back up, offering his friend a smile. “Then you can think of it as returning the favor instead, which is the opposite of ungrateful. Xigbar and my mom spent ages in your factory, and while ours was run differently, if I can say anything confidently, it’s that spending years in there really fucks you up. Makes it frustratingly hard to live anywhere that isn’t there.”

Mariam smiled a little more. “That’s where you and the others who weren’t in as long have the leg up, now. You’re not unchanged, but you remember better what it’s like to live outside. What the world’s like more recent than a decade plus off. And it’s not like it wasn’t hard for them to help you guys in the factory, right? So even if it’s hard, you can return the favor and keep Xigbar alive out here.”

His smile saddened slightly. “And I mean more than physical threats, if you wanted to say something to get down on yourself like the danger out here isn’t as pressing.”

“...” Ira’s eyes widened after a moment, in genuine wonder, as he murmured, “It’s my turn to help them…?”

He and Invi, sometimes, had felt like the only two since they had gotten out of the factory who weren’t treating the outside world like either nothing had changed–Gula worried Ira endlessly, for how ready he was to fit back into a world that, from what Ira could see, didn’t seem as eager to accept him back into place–or was acting like the world was something that wasn’t actually happening in any meaningful way, entirely detached–the boys, Xehanort and Hao, seemed content to be spectators to life, which was not a good long term solution–or perhaps most glaring, treated the world like they had no idea what to do with it. Which was… Xigbar.

But him, Invi? Aced and Ava. They seemed to be in that sweet spot, of recognizing how things had changed, without it feeling like stepping into some strange, alien world. They could be what the older Empaths needed, stepping back into the world, and could be a caution to the younger ones, without being suffocating the way the older ones could.

Ira… could help. He could pay back the debt he felt he had from his time in the factory. Not by being who he was in the factory, but being who they needed in the world. Really needed.

“...that’s an apt observation,” Ira said evenly. Not able to adequately express how that sentiment had affected him.

“I try,” Mariam laughed softly. “May not scour libraries or be a giant super genius, but I do notice shit going on. Usually have a harder time having anyone actually listen to me, so I’ll take your acknowledgement happily.”

He shrugged a little. “I think now the biggest reason you’d hear from the Nobodies is that they worked so hard to wake the Somebodies up because we’re all family. But right after we got out of the factory, and for months after, a lot of the motivation was just because being dropped into a completely different life none of us had experience with, or were out of practice with, was hard. It felt like we weren’t suited for it, like we were barely surviving, and while that was good, it felt too unstable. So if we couldn’t do it, maybe we needed the Somebodies’ help.”

“Turns out we’re just as lost too,” Mariam scoffed a laugh, “but it is easier to do with all of us together. And considering our biggest turning points were because people who were more used to the world outside the factory helped us? It’s already a tried process, I’m sure you can do it.”

“I’ll admit, I do feel a bit overwhelmed still, even with the new way of thinking about it. We didn’t have lives left to uproot, not really, but moving to a new country certainly puts me in a less familiar place to navigate… that said?” Ira smiled softly, his hair shifting over his shoulders as he showed Mariam the knots he had managed to braid together as they talked, “I do like the idea of being helpful to my people. We never named each other family, like you all did, but… it is something like that, what I feel for them. Something close to it.”

“It would feel good, to know they were all truly okay.” Ira murmured, eyes soft and distant, “Good to know I helped them.”

It definitely wasn’t the best loop braid Mariam had seen, but for a first try? He gave Ira a small, approving nod. As something to focus on and do with his hands, it was perfect. 

“And I think you can,” he voiced his confidence, giving Ira an assured smile. “Like I said, Linnea and Xigbar didn’t always know what they were doing, so you feeling daunted and unsure isn’t you on the backfoot. The uncertainty is just life.”

Looking away as well, there was something a little amused and a little sad in Mariam’s smile. “In some ways, the ways we treat each other is the most important thing that matters, someone told me once. Everything else I think you can get by ad-libbing.” 

Ira nodded, looking at his large, crooked loops proudly. “...you’ve been a good friend to me, Mariam. I’m sorry again you’ve been struggling. Thank you for looking out for me.”

Mariam brightened, before laughing softly. “Glad I manage to offset some of the batshit stuff that seems to tag along with me, then. I’m happy to; you’ve been a good friend to me too.”

While still happy, Mariam’s smile strained a bit. “...I think I do actually have to lie down, though.” Things were starting to get a bit, er, wobbly.

Ira gave Mariam a concerned look, but nodded at that. He stood up and stepped back, letting the man settle himself into bed, as he said, “I hope the bruising cream helps. I’ll tell your, uh, your siblings that you were awake a bit and then needed to head back to sleep. Um… if that helps to know.” Ira headed to the door, “...I’ll come check back in later. Just to see if you’re up or need anything. Get some rest.”

“Thanks, Ira. I appreciate it,” Mariam said softly as he settled himself back down on the bed. “Hopefully next time I’m up I can see them. And…tell them I am okay if they look worried. They might not believe it, but it’s ‘cause they’re just a group of weird skeptics, it’s not anything on you.”

Letting his eyes close against the whirl the world was becoming, it wasn’t long before Mariam’s breaths softened and slowed.

-

It wasn’t that she believed in this maxim as a lifelong code to live by. Aqua admitted that she didn’t always handle pain in the best ways. But it was something that had been instilled in her from a young age, and something she’d used throughout her life when she didn’t drop the ball all the way underground. And, with Garden resting, there wasn’t anything to do, so Aqua took it up here in a fashion she’d never been able to in the factory--use up that anxious energy exercising. 

In particular, by going for a run. 

Having stretched herself warm, Aqua took off at a brisk jog, heading vaguely for the castle gates, but not taking any planned route to get there. And as she felt the ground solid under her feet and her breathing come into rhythm, she let the exertion take her feelings. 

Ventus was her baby-baby, of course. The one she’d carried in her body and had never gotten to carry in her arms. The Heart Trio were her little ones, unafraid of adventure before them, but still more at ease with someone reliable along for the ride. But Lauriam and Marluxia…they were her first. Her sons that she’d raised with the Terra the others never got, her stubborn, driven, passionate tweens. So sturdy that regardless of how people had tried to tear them down throughout their lives, they were still here. Still standing. 

She knew Garden wasn’t her awkward teen anymore. It’d been years since they started towering over her, years since Lauriam habitually called people by honorifics, years since Aqua and Terra were the first people Marluxia glanced at whenever he did anything, looking for acknowledgement. Years since she could just hold her boys and wrap them in the ocean away from their pain. A child didn’t just outgrow being held by their parents, but it’d been a long time since either of them had sought that particular comfort with her. Since they had been able to lie amongst the clouds. 

Finding comfort with his boyfriends was still good, and Aqua trusted her best friends. She was happy, overjoyed, really, that the four of them had finally settled their relationships into something that was happy way more than it was stressful. As his mom, though, Aqua still sort of wished Garden had asked her, even though a nap sounded like the last thing Aqua wanted to do at the moment. 

She barely watched the buildings around her go by, just keeping enough watch to make sure she wasn’t about to go on a collision course with anyone coming out. Each step engaging her body, like she was pulling the world past her, rather than moving through it. 

She wished she was there, with him. She wished she could join the watch the others had no doubt placed on Garden’s room, at the very least. She wished she could tease Garden about how shitty he looked once he woke up and was mussed from both sleep and fever, as she’d help wipe his sweat away. She wished she could give him a hug. 

The next few months felt longer than the road under her feet. But Aqua kept running. 

-

Shuichi and Kaito were fighting, because Kaito and Kokichi were fighting, and Shuichi was taking Kokichi’s side in the argument. It wasn’t a fight long in the making, just tense, whispered arguments in the last day as Kokichi handled the whole ‘attack’ situation with one of the Factory Indentured, but Maki was already a little tired of hearing about it, as the three took advantage of the fact that Kokichi was doubling up on Miya duty and office time to go off and talk to each other.

They were doing knife throwing in the basement. Mostly to help Kaito spend energy as he and Shuichi argued, Shuichi unwilling to, of course, even consider Kaito and Maki’s dance sparring habits. In truth, he was barely even throwing the knives either, skipping every other turn, including this one, as he let Maki go ahead. 

“Kaito, you can’t pull the ‘co-king’ card the second you want something, when you know that’s a whole job here that you are not even sort of doing,” Shuichi said, Kaito scoffing as the two backed up, letting Maki start throwing her knives at the target, “You know that’s why Kokichi was so upset.”

“No, I know it’s because he’s just entirely unwilling to even consider that any sort of action needs to be taken at all.” Kaito growled, crossing his arms and glaring at the ground, “I’m not asking for much! I just want them out of the city! It’s barely even a banishment!”

“You can’t kick anyone you don’t like out of the city. It’s not realistic, and also not legal.”

“He’s the law!”

“No he’s not, and even if he was, he’d still not be, because Aiichi is king.”

“They tried to eat him. One of my people! A Luminary who we promised safety to in coming here! Some Diceans tried to eat him! I’d be a shit leader if I didn’t argue at least for something!”

“You’re not a leader at all,” Maki reminded him, as the knife went thwack, “That’s half Shuichi’s point. You can’t just pick and choose these things. You told Kokichi you didn’t want to be king the way he explained it to you. You promised to defer to him on stuff like this. He might not hold you expressing your opinions against you, but that’s not what you’re doing. You’re just picking and choosing when you want to suggest you have some authority over people. That’s not a leader.”

“Yeah, well…” Kaito grunted, crossing his arms tighter, gritting his teeth, “Maybe I’m not a leader, but I’m not wrong either. Not doing anything sends the wrong message.”

“There’s no message to send. Most people will never know it happened. Which I think is half the problem. They’re not ‘just’ Diceans attacking a Luminary, Kaito. They’re a magical species that were starving because they couldn’t tell anyone why they were hungry,” Shuichi frowned, “In a place like Dicea, where anyone can eat and it’s expected you’ll receive help if you can’t? That puts them in a uniquely terrible position. This wasn’t a hate crime, it was desperation.”

“Ngh. Then it’s sending the wrong message to the magical community. My damn Luminaries aren’t fucking fair game… ngh, maybe you guys are right,” Kaito sighed, rubbing the brow of his forehead, “I think I’m just angry. I’m so sick of the bad guys getting away with it. Banishment feels like the absolute least we could do.”

“Your turn Kaito,” Maki said, stepping back as Kaito went to go pull the daggers from the target, “...you know, I think you did that in the dream too.”

“Did what?” Kaito asked.

“In that dream we were all trapped in. You were leading a city in the desert, and their main form of punishment was banishing people out of the city. So you played out that fantasy at least once.”

“I don’t need a damn fantasy city to banish people from, I need to stop feeling like I’m going to throw up every time I think of all the shitty things that happen,” Kaito growled, readying his dagger to throw, “Sometimes I miss just… feeling blind to it all. Back when I was conditioned? It’s not like I didn’t know bad things were happening, I did. But it was all through this hazy filter of ‘for the greater good’ and that ‘Byakuya was going to make everything better through all of it’ and with those filters, it was so much easier to stomach that nothing bad was happening to all the bastards in our lives… now? Nothing feels like it’s leading to anything better… I just miss that faith, sometimes. That it’s all for a reason.”

“Life is more random than that,” Maki said, leaning against the wood of the boxes Shuichi was sitting on. “And even if someone really does have more of a plan for the ‘bad’ things, that doesn’t mean the bad things didn’t happen. It’s an individual thing to… hold on, I just heard myself out loud, I’m missing my point,” Maki said, going quiet for a moment. 

Shuichi and Kaito stayed quiet while Maki thought. Maki sometimes needed a minute, when she was philosophising. She didn’t like to be misunderstood. It was a trait both Shuichi and Kaito admired for different reasons. Shuichi because he appreciated that Maki liked to understand herself first before explaining herself, and Kaito because he was a grade-A rambler who often didn’t know what he was saying until near the end of his own argument, let alone what he was communicating to others.

So they listened, when Maki finally said, “Yes, it was bad that they attacked someone to feed on them. That is an individual cruelty that needs dealing with. But Kokichi banishing them would be another individual cruelty that needs dealing with. Him having a good reason to banish them wouldn’t negate that any more than it does to you, hearing that they were starving. It all, individually, needs grappling with. Deciding one person can be cruel because the other person deserves it is the sort of argument that only works when you’re ready to stop thinking about it at all.”

“Okay, fine. Then I’m saying that I miss sometimes just… not thinking about it. I want to punish them and make them go away and then forget about it. And, sure, saying it like that makes it sound bad, but… augh. I just want vengeance! And then I want it to be done! I want it to be done and to not think about it!”

“I think Kokichi would agree with that second part, but not the first bit,” Shuichi said dryly, “Hey, do you remember that whole revelation you two had in therapy, where you realized you both were talking about different things at the Memorial Garden? What was it Kokichi thought you were saying…?”

Kaito hesitated, thinking about it… “Come on, man, that’s not fair. This isn’t that…”

“I don’t care, and I don’t want to hear about it, if it disturbs my own happy bubble,” Shuichi echoed, watching Kaito wince, “You told him he was wrong.”

“He was wrong. At that moment. But I also said I understood it wasn’t a single incident that would make him think that of me. So… shut up, I’m self aware.” Kaito grumbled. “It’s not like I don’t want to hear about this at all. I just wish there was going to be a quicker, more concrete solution than whatever it’s going to end up being… so that then I can stop thinking about it, auuuuugh, whatever fine maybe it’s a little like that! Happy?”

“Thrilled.” Shuichi smirked.

“...do you ever miss how you felt when you were conditioned, Shuichi?” Maki asked. Staring at the ceiling. 

“What? No,” Shuichi said, giving her a mildly baffled look, “Kaito I understand why he misses it. His conditioning was meant to keep him happy. Our conditioning made us miserable.”

“It did.” Maki nodded, still staring at the ceiling. “But there was still that ‘fuzziness’ Kaito talks about. We both had devotion training too. Everyone did, to an extent. It did feel good to serve. That was the point.”

“I don’t miss feeling happy about it, then. I’m not a servant,” Shuichi said grimly, old memories clearly weighing on him, “Or a slave. If I was ever happy to successfully follow an order? I don’t miss that happiness.”

“Hmm,” Maki hummed, “...Kaito. Do you miss being a leader?”

“What, back home?” Kaito asked, throwing the last dagger, grinning in light thrill as he got a bullseye, “Ey, look at that! And uh, I don’t know… no? I wasn’t really a leader in Luminary either. Can I say I miss being crazy wealthy sometimes? I absolutely miss being crazy wealthy.”

“No, I meant in the dream.”

“The dream? Uh…” Kaito frowned, brow furrowed as he went to collect the daggers, “...I don’t remember much of it. When I remember it, it’s mostly that last day, when we were fighting to escape. But the day by day stuff of living there? Not really. So I guess no.”

“I remember a lot of it.” Maki said, “It was nice. A fantasy. I had saved this town, these children, and got to look after them and run my own dojo at the same time. I was well respected. Loved. I still knew both of you, we had gone on adventures together. There had been struggles, yes, but I had learned from them. Could take pride in having overcome them, became better than my worst moments. It was… idyllic.”

“Well, that had been the whole point, right? Our greatest fantasies, played out… I don’t like that my fantasy left me without Kokichi, for most of it,” Kaito frowned, “Without my kids. That bothers me.”

“I got the sense that pursuing happiness was part of the fantasy,” Maki explained, “That life was idyllic, but part of that fantasy was knowing something better was still right around the corner. I was pursuing getting Timothy. You were pursuing Kokichi and Shuichi. Kaito, you still had a terrible relationship with your family. Shuichi, you were still hung up on proving something to Miss Kirigiri. I was still an orphan who hurt people in my attempt to grow up too fast.” 

“Are you talking about the idea that in paradise, part of our happiness still required strife, even in the fantasy?” Shuichi noticed. 

“I think that strife was to justify to us, in that world, why we wanted those things,” Maki explained, “Kaito wouldn’t have found leading a city where he could swiftly and concretely protect people satisfying if he hadn’t grown up in an environment that both rewarded that mindset while constantly keeping it out of his grasp. You wouldn’t have taken such pride in thriving as a detective if you still didn’t want to prove yourself to your mentor. I wouldn’t have found fulfillment in helping the kids if my own childhood hadn’t taught me to value that.”

“I feel like we’re talking about something new. What are we talking about?” Kaito asked, heading to the other two with the daggers, offering them to Shuichi, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“...I think we lose context, for what we desire, if we don’t acknowledge what shaped those desires in the first place.” Maki said, “I think ignoring what pains us makes it harder for us to be happy. Makes us look for solutions in the wrong places. Like how Kaito spent his life terrified of ghosts, because of Tengan’s possessions. Or Kokichi’s fear of power and authority, when he was subconsciously accidentally spying on his entire kingdom every night.”

“...oh man, that is what was happening at the same time he was having, like, constant freakouts about taking care of literally everyone, huh,” Kaito muttered. “I just sorta figured he was being a control-freak.”

“I think that’s technically still true–”

“No one tell him I said that, by the way, that is between us three, got it!?” Kaito suddenly sputtered, giving the other two worried looks, “I will be SO MAD if either of you tell him I thought he was being a control freak! I mean it!”

“I think he knows you feel that way, but sure, Kaito,” Shuichi said, rolling his eyes, before looking to Maki, “But I’m more interested in whatever revelation you’re having. It feels like you’re leading to something.”

Maki frowned, lips thinning, hair shimmering a bit as heat radiated off her body, just thinking that had… before she pouted. Puffing her cheeks out. “... I think I’m in denial that our time in the Togami Warehouses had any long-term effects on us. I think us telling ourselves that not remembering it is just us pretending nothing is wrong, like Kaito used to with his conditioning. But just like his fear of the supernatural, there’s probably some way it’s affecting us that we just have… no context over.”

“The warehouses…” Shuichi frowned, “What are you saying, Maki?”

“I’m saying…”

-

“That I need to know what happened in that time of my life,” Maki explained, “And I know you memory surf. Can you help me?”

O.O

OoO Nope.

“I’m sorry, what,” Maki said darkly. As behind her, a mountain rumbled warningly. “I didn’t want to ask Kokichi, because I don’t want him to have to see them himself. I thought you’d be more willing though.”

OOO OH NO I’M THRILLED I WANNA SEE THEM TOO

O.O That sounds so exciting

OoO But scary memory witch is REALLY good at this

OOO I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO FIND THOSE MEMORIES ON ANYONE

O.O

OoO I’ve already looked

“Scary memory witch?” Maki asked.

Amaina did a little spin, and suddenly she was the white, sparking silhouette of Namine. 

OoO She puts the memories in these eggs, right?

Amaina, still looking like Namine, created a smaller, more Amaina-looking version of herself, resting in the center of a clear, egg-shaped flower-like ball.

OOO BUT THEN THE EGG FLATTENS

The tiny Amaina in the egg flattened with the egg, leaving behind a thin, colorful sheet of light that Amaina picked up and waved around.

OoO and becomes part of other memories

And with that, Amaina laid the sheet on the ground of Maki’s meadow at the base of the mountain, Maki watching quietly as she quickly lost track of where the thin sheet of color disappeared into the ground. 

OoO it’s why the mind slave-folk usually never notice they’re missing memories until someone specifically asks them about it. The missing space the memories leave are imprinted onto other memories that seem to fill in the entire picture

O.O sooooo like

OoO your WHOLE memory of being there could have been just eating in a room for a few minutes, or feeling bored falling asleep, and even if that only happened for a minute or so? It feels to you like the WHOLE memory of the ENTIRE time

OoO because in your brain those two memories are now mixed

OoO and it wouldn’t seem odd to you, because functionally, they’re now the same memory

O.O

OOO IT’S REALLY ANNOYING IT’S SO HARD TO UNTANGLE THOSE MEMORIES AND SEE THE GOOD JUICY STUFF

Maki was quietly processing all of that… before her eyes narrowed. “Hard? But not impossible. Do you know how to manage it?”

OoO Eh, same way I get all the highlight moments out of people’s memories

OoO If you can find the starting memory? One naturally leads to the next one

OvO like a storybook

OoO it’s just tough finding that starting memory for you lot. Because of again. It being a sheet of color.

“Do you have any recommendations?” Maki asked, feeling confident Amaina did. She wouldn't be explaining the technicalities otherwise.

OvO oh yeah

O.O But I get to watch too

“Deal.” Maki said easily

OOO HELL YEAH!! 

OoO use someone else's starting point to get to yours

OoO sometimes someone else's memory can jumpstart your own

“But… Shuichi also can’t remember it,” Maki frowned, “No one remembers it.”

OoO someone has more pieces than most.

“...who?”

-

“You want to remember being conditioned?” Ienzo blinked at Maki, making sure he’d heard right, before he frowned in concern. “As in…the entire experience?”

It had been a surprise, to say the least, to see Maki appear on the beach as he and Demyx talked. They’d decided to let Mariam rest, but weren’t so quick to get back up in the physical world, so they were just…talking. Ienzo was tempted to go to his library to essentially pick up where he’d left off in the castle library, which Demyx was quick to shut down, so he had tentatively admitted to wanting to contact others in Usott Castle about everything…

…which had really meant that Ienzo had wanted to talk to Maki. She had admitted to Zexion that she wasn’t as ‘all-powerful and totally assured’ as her reputation drew her up to be, but…well, they could both admit that they were still colored by the years of hearing about her that way. Maybe there wasn’t really anything he could kindly ask her to do for Mariam. He didn’t want to give her the burden of another sibling, even if it was a sibling-in-law of sorts. But maybe talking about the ‘brain doctor’, as Demyx called the field of psychology and not neurology, would still be good. 

And instead she had walked straight towards him with Amaina in tow and asked--

“I’m sure you’re aware, but the conditioning process is explicit torture,” Ienzo said. “And you want to remember that?”

Maki shrugged, looking more unbothered than she felt as she explained, “It’s been on my mind for a while. At first I felt fine with not remembering. It didn’t seem to be affecting my life in any meaningful way, so why burden myself unnecessarily? But, recently, I’ve been thinking more and more about the sort of toll memories have on our bodies, even the memories we aren’t aware of. And I’m starting to think that there’s no such thing, as being entirely unburdened from something that happened to you. That all of our experiences had an effect on us, even the ones we can’t explicitly recall.”

“And I’ve been… struggling. With things,” Maki explained, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “Everytime I feel like I have a grasp on why, and start working on my feelings, it very quickly unravels. I feel like there’s… something. Just in the back of my mind. Something that’s having a massive influence on me, my decisions, my happiness… but I don’t know what it is. It’s just always there. Weighing on me.”

“And, well,” Maki shrugged, “There’s only one massive chunk of my life that I’m missing. If I really want to deal with it? I think I have to stop pretending that chunk of my life didn’t happen. I need to observe it. Amaina here–”

OoO Amaina Chaaaaaan you always forget the chan

“--says your memories can potentially awaken mine,” Maki explained, “Because we both started in the same place.”

A hand going up to his chin, Ienzo considered that point. Stress had tangible effects on the physical body, even through hereditary lines. In that vein, the stress was a sort of memory that could physically affect you, so that was true, without even having to contend with the psychological aspect of experiences. It was difficult to ever truly forget something. Even with Namine’s level of power and precision. 

And, well, it wasn’t her work that had suppressed those memories for Maki in the first place, anyway. 

Ienzo frowned softly as Maki admitted to her struggles before he gave Amaina a curious look. “That can work in that fashion? As far as we’ve ever been able to tell, nothing can pry up memories that have been Prism Etched. But I suppose we’ve never tried this method.” He paused, before sighing softly. “...I’m not proud of those memories. We had no true choice but to condition, but you, Shuuichi, and I entered the factory at the same time. I hadn’t had any time, really, to grapple with what was happening, and every time we saw each other on the beach it felt like I was betraying you two.”

Summoning his Lexicon, Ienzo’s eyes focused as pages flipped by. “However, those personal feelings are no reason to deny you this, more serving as an explanation for some of the emotions you might note within the memories. If I can serve as waypoints for your own memories, I’m willing to experiment. Let’s begin.”

-

He’d thought he was in trouble for ‘talking to himself’. The Togami employees weren’t exactly gentle with children, but there had been a clinical efficiency to how everyone Ienzo saw had been treated. This wasn’t that. 

Keeping his face carefully blank--not as perfected as that stress response would become, Ienzo’s eyes a little too wide to be emotionless--Ienzo did his best to keep up with the too tight grip on his arm, following the employee past several doors and into a maze of hallways. Deeper and deeper into the heart of the factory, and while it was just physical space, Ienzo almost felt dizzied by the path, like even with his best mental map he’d struggle to ever find his way out. 

He tried not to feel threatened by that thought. 

Finally, there was a heavily locked door past what looked oddly like living quarters that they stopped at, but before Ienzo could even look up to discern what the employee wanted, he was thrown into the room. 

He couldn’t even focus on the harsh, “Two weeks!” that was called above his head as he cushioned his fall against the concrete floor with his arms, before picking himself up. Facing a group of haggard-looking adults looking at him with barely concealed horror in their eyes.

There was a long, heavy silence. Everyone trying to process what they were seeing. A few of them glancing at each other, like maybe someone was about to say ‘gotchya’...

“Oh, dammit,” Dilan whispered, “It’s a kid.”

“It’s actually a bit surprising, that that’s a first for us,” Viz said, her hands already starting to gnarl by then as she placed them gently beneath her chin, tilting her head to get a lightly altered look of the boy, “Youngest we’ve ever gotten was Aeleus, and he was just a young buck of 19. Which sure didn’t stop our Even from cradle robbing.”

“I do not wish to have that conversation again,” Even grumbled, “That is not funny. This is also not funny. Is this meant to be a joke?”

“Sure is a shit joke if it is one… sh-should I not be saying shit around the young’n? Shit, I said it again. Oh no. Fuck. Dammit,” Luis said, looking increasingly worried, “Someone please stop me??”

“I’ve always thought the reason we don’t get them young is because they don’t want them young. Certainly this isn’t the first time they’ve found a child,” Inzi frowned, “They must have some sort of rule against it. They must. This is no place for children.”

“I feel like we get literally a dozen new kids every round of conditionings that suggest they couldn’t care less about that,” Dilan frowned, “...but to be here permanently…”

“Do I have to remind everyone that this is a child and not an animal?” Laurence spoke up, the unusually tall, older man stepping forward from the group, his flesh sagging around his unusually broad shoulders in places that suggested his skin might have once been tight with muscle, raw power that time had turned soft and wrinkled as he said, “He can understand us. Can’t you, boy. Sorry, you must be struggling to follow what’s happening. What’s your name?”

{Do they think we’re deaf or something?} 

Despite everything, Ienzo still felt some humor, hearing the drawling, annoyed tone from his friend. The adults really were just talking like he wasn’t there, huh. Something peculiarly common in adults, he’d noticed. Ienzo couldn’t help but wonder what happened in the process of growing up that spurred that practice. 

…here permanently?

While he’d just been quietly observing the adults as they muttered to each other, bright blue eyes focused on the giant of a man as he took a step forward. And after a heavy pause, he answered, “Ienzo. So I gather this isn’t the usual method for conditioning?”

The boy’s voice was just as tiny as he was. Aeleus had been around small children before, but had any of them ever looked this tiny? He supposed having Laurence as the closest frame of reference wasn’t doing the child, Ienzo, any favors. 

“No,” Aeleus confirmed, before giving Ienzo a small nod. “You know how to fall well, well done. Are your arms alright?”

There was no pause this time before Ienzo nodded. “It’s an essential skill. Sudden blunt or acceleration trauma to the skull or neck, particularly misalignment of the vertebrae, are highly dangerous injuries so knowing how to buffer or shield those areas with less essential body parts like limbs is a good skill to pick up quickly.”

It was almost eerie, how Aqua and Terra blinked at the same time, before Terra’s mouth wobbled, suppressing a snort. “...Ev, are you running some weird experiment by projecting a little you right now?” The amusement and disbelief in Terra’s voice clearly indicated that that was entirely a joke, and not an actual theory. 

“Don’t be foolish, I don’t speak that way…” Even frowned, though his eyes were alight with sudden interest, “The boy is educated though. And so young…”

Laurence knelt down–it took some effort to bend his knees, if a small breath of air was any indication, but otherwise the giant showed none of the pain it gave him–as he observed the child. Up close, his age would have been more obvious to Ienzo, if it hadn’t been before. Liver spots dotted thickly around his eyes, which bagged beneath his lids. Hair that was gray and thinning to white, with the exception of his beard, which still had some wispy patches of the dark blue it had once been. A dark, deep rich brown in his eyes that, while exhausted and sad, held an aura of something deeply and profoundly kind, as he looked the boy over…

“Even, come here. You may not speak like him, but you’d likely understand him better than most of us. Come on,” Laurence said gently, “We don’t have much space to share, but Even and I are going to take you behind that curtain over there, where our bathroom is, and we’re going to explain what’s happening together. Nothing will happen to you, I swear it. Just somewhere to talk where it’s a little less crowded. Will that be alright?”

Ienzo didn’t know what it was, but…he felt like the man was telling the truth. Not just because he had kind eyes, or had been the first to speak directly to him, but some unquantifiable feeling that he just…felt.

{...I can always take over if they start getting scary. But I don’t think it’ll get to that point. You feel it too, right? How strange…}

“...as long as you’re aware of how suspicious that all is, regardless of my decision to accept,” Ienzo said warily.

“You just don’t need the circus gawking at you, hun,” Aqua said, forcing the notes of a laugh into her voice, “You surprised us! So we’ll get over that surprise without forcing you to watch, while Ev and Laurence explain.”

Ienzo gave a small, hesitant nod, before waiting for Laurence to stand again, following the two men behind the curtain. 

…they’d been amused and intrigued by his explanation. Maybe that old trick would work here too. Keep them invested in his intelligence, and Ienzo might find an ally in this strange…whatever it was. 

They were sitting on what looked like thin slatted wooden boxes in the other room. What was that about? Entering the bathroom, Ienzo took in the row of toilets, the massive shower…he’d only ever seen diagrams of industry, but the first word that came to mind was ‘industrial’. 

The bathroom was far from ‘cozy’, but it was slightly more private, the murmurs of the others dimming a bit as the three settled in the bathroom area. Laurence went to sit against the wall, but this time he seemed to have a hard time of it, perhaps because he was trying to sit rather than squat as he winced halfway down, before saying, “Even…”

Even stepped forward and took Laurence’s arm, helping him hold his weight as the old man finally settled onto the floor. Even’s long blond hair falling over his shoulders in a cascading curtain as he whispered to the man, “I can do this alone. You haven’t slept all night already–”

“Don’t try to play nurse for me, I’m not feeble yet. Just needed some help,” Laurence tutted, waving Even off of himself, who gave the old man a worried look. Laurence turned to Ienzo and smiled fondly. “If I can give some advice? Take your time getting old, young man. Start showing some wrinkles, dislodge a hip once or twice, and young fellas like Even here start hovering and throwing a fuss if you so much as breathe too heavy. But I suppose you still have plenty of time before that. How old are you, boy?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice about that. Time moves at a pace unaltered by acts,” Ienzo said quietly, before more clearly answering, “I turned 7 in Early Summer.” He paused, looking between the two men, before asking in return, “How old are you two?”

“Seven…” Laurence whispered, that sadness deepening in his eyes… but he smiled. A few of his teeth missing, as he said, “I’m very fortunate to be very old. I do not actually know how old I am anymore, but for a 7-year-old? I think I am old enough to have been your father’s father, and only if your father didn’t have you very young.”

“And this one here?” Laurence said, gesturing to Even, who gave him a tired look back, “Is what I’m warning you against. This one is only old enough to perhaps be your father’s age, but just you watch. He’ll be acting as if he’s my age in a decade's time. Brand new and already a crotchety old man.”

“If I’m old, it’s only because you all made me that way,” Even huffed, “My back hurts already.”

“I think that’s the pallets, more than us. Still worth the trade of the chairs though. Everything was worth trading the chairs… but nevermind that,” Laurence said, looking back to the boy, “You must have so many questions. Sit, it’s alright to be informal with us. You do not need to stand on ceremony, to wait to be spoken to before you may speak, to even use honorifics. Not here. There is no room for formalities here, so we do away with them. You may call me Laurence. Or ‘Old Man’ if you wish. And you may call him ‘Even’. No one will scold you for it.”

“Laurence, he’s a child, he needs some structure–” Even started to whisper, but Laurence shook his head.

“Not that type. Not here. We will not teach him to be deferential or polite… the supervisors would take advantage,” Laurence said softly, saying to the boy, “I want you to know, that you can trust us. Everyone who shares our room. We will look after you… but it’s not safe here. And being polite and quiet will not make you safer. So we will not ask you to be.”

Ienzo wasn’t sure how old either of his grandfathers were. Lord Grandfather Seisear was old enough that he’d passed down inheritance to his parents, at least. And… Ienzo glanced Even over. He didn’t think his dad was this man’s age either. 

Ienzo took a small, shaky breath. He’d stopped crying all the time, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt every time he thought about his mom and dad. Granted, it was easier for it to hurt less when he was with…

Frowning, Ienzo searched Laurence’s face. And again, despite finding nothing but kind, tired features, what gave Ienzo the sense of truth and sincerity weren’t those, but something he couldn’t define. 

“...where’s the danger?” Ienzo decided to address first, before he frowned a little more. “My friends are here too, and everyone who came back from their first round of conditioning didn’t seem harmed.” Maki said she’d go after anyone who messed with him. But if she was in danger here too?

“...Laurence, it should be Luis in here,” Even suddenly whispered, “Or Aqua. Terra, even. I’m not equipped to–”

Laurence put a hand up, and then looked at Even. Not hard, or stern, but pointed. The two staring at each other. Like for a moment, they were having a conversation only they could hear… before Even huffed and looked away. Frustrated but not arguing anymore. 

“Your friends are not in danger,” Laurence said gently, “They’re resting. Same as you were resting, before you came here… Do you remember how long it’s been since you arrived at Togami? It’s alright if you don’t. You’re not supposed to be able to. Do you know how many days? How many meals you’ve eaten?”

Ienzo only hesitated another moment before finally taking the offer to sit down with the adults. With no danger to address, at least immediately, there wasn’t a need to remain standing, especially if he was encouraged not to. No immediate danger didn’t counteract that he’d been similarly told he wasn’t saf--

Oh, Ienzo realized. Laurence said that his friends weren’t in danger. Not that Ienzo wasn’t. 

Still wasn’t immediate, he supposed. 

Frowning suspiciously as he was told he wasn’t supposed to remember, Ienzo tried to take stock of everything that happened. “...we were processed the first day, and shown to the rooms where we were supposed to stay, and taken out and recollected for meals, but…”

Ienzo realized he couldn’t accurately count how many times that had happened. So time to change tactics. Silently, he counted out something on his fingers, before more confidently saying, “Three days.”

And because Laurence had said he likely had more questions, and his biggest one had been addressed, Ienzo quickly asked, “You called the, I’m assuming, boxes out there ‘palettes’. I’ve only heard that referred to the item used to hold paint, or a specific collection of colors--it is a coincidental homophone or from similar roots? And when you say ‘supervisors’, does that mean some of the employees here, thus marking your relationship to them as a chain of command, and non-directly explaining to me that you’re Togami employees too? But ones that can’t leave the building.”

An employee that couldn’t leave. That was in danger from their superiors. That bargained. 

{...oh.}

Ienzo blinked. “...if it’s easier to not have to soften your wording--we’re prisoners.” He frowned worriedly. “...I didn’t think breaking the rules had that severe a penalty.”

Laurence briefly started to look lost, a bit confused… but smiled warmly when Even immediately replied with ease, “It’s similar roots, both stemming from the word paillete, a Wonderland word for ‘straw bed’. I believe we misused it back when that country was exporting bed frames to the rest of the world, referring to the wooden framework as the whole of the word, until all wooden frames of a similar shape and size became interchangeable ‘pallets’ to us. The reason palettes is a similar root word is because we again borrowed it from their language, but this time used it correctly, where they were using it to reference their own root word palate, which is the shape of the top of your mouth or your shoulder blade, the shape being useful for carrying things, such as paint for palettes, or people from the straw bed pailletes.”

“The pallets are our beds,” Laurence said, chuckling lightly, “Straw would certainly make them more comfortable, but thankfully we do have some bedding, so it’s not terrible. We don’t get cold much.”

But as simple a time as Even had answering the first question, he faltered at the next one. Looking uncomfortable as he tried to find the words to explain…

“Have you heard the word ‘slaves’ before? It’s not a good word, many people consider it a slur, so I’d ask you not to call any of the others that,” Laurence explained gently, “It would hurt their feelings. But you seem the sort that you might have read the definition of that word somewhere. We’re slaves to the supervisors… As for why you’re here–”

“You are not here for any fault of your own,” Even suddenly said sternly, “You are not here because you have broken any rules, or done anything wrong. If I can impress anything upon you now? Nothing here is your fault.”

Laurence gave Even an approving look at that, before refocusing on Ienzo. “...you’re here because you have a gift. Something wonderful, that only a handful of us can do.”

{And there is nothing wrong with that gift.}

Ienzo looked enraptured by the etymology lesson, nodding every now and then as he took in the information Even explained, each line mentally being scribbled down in his head. “Fascinating…” he mumbled, “I always thought they were related through the connection of art, not derived from a connotation connected through a shape. And while circles, or ovoids, more accurately, would likely distribute weight more evenly for the purpose of carrying, due to the shape of the human body, it makes sense for those ‘pallets’ to have taken on a rectangular shape.”

As he marveled over that, Ienzo nodded vaguely to Laurence’s question. “I know it in terms of being outlawed on the so-called world stage due to the Reconstitution of Fein theorized to be around 1100 Pre Oligarch, and the Treatise of Lutiarn of 6 Oligarch. Obviously there’s no world authority, but after the associated wars of those eras, slavery was condemned as a barbaric practice worthy of international interference.”

…something that was happening here, now, not in history and…about to be Ienzo’s life. 

Ienzo bit the inside of his lip as that fact became more stark to him, but Even’s voice demanded attention. And so did…

{Duh.}

{It might get you called a nerd[Expand], but this is by far the most efficient way to catalog information.}

{That blows if people want to enslave us to…what, be living recordings[Expand]? That can’t be what’s happening, correct?}

“Fascinating,” Even whispered.

“Glad you understand it. I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy myself,” Laurence admitted, “Even, what am I hearing?”

“Information layered into itself. I’d say, just from initial impressions… in the way that Viz folds memories onto each other? He’s folding thoughts. And the reason it sounds so chaotic to you is that you opened them all up at once,” Even said, kneeling down and giving Ienzo a curious, impressed look, “That’s quite a skill. Did someone teach you that?”

“We’re not recordings, to answer your question first,” Laurence said. {We’re what they call ‘Conditioners’. You know why you were sent to the Togami Factories, yes? To learn obedience. Or a special skill? Devotion? We are the ones who imprint that into people’s minds. It is something you will learn how to do as well.}

Again, Ienzo perked up a little more, facing that impressed expectation being levelled on him. That. Keep doing that, and you won’t be forgotten. 

“No, I’m not sure how someone would be able to teach me that. I’ve never heard anyone else’s voice in my head like that.” Because his friend had the same voice, of course. And he certainly hadn’t taught Ienzo. “I figured it out through experimentation because information is instant that way, so you don’t need to communicate the same way you speak. All the things you’d need to explain for clarity you can just envelope in what they’re clarifying.”

Though, that excitement dimmed slightly. Conditioners…? Ones who condition. People who…

Ienzo thought over the past few months. Watching Maki train for her assassin training, and keeping an eye over her. How no one noticed her sneaking into the larder after dark for some of the younger kids who got hungry in the middle of the night. How some of their guardians would lose their train of thought and move onto the next thing when they thought to lecture her brazen attitude. How no one thought to look up when she was practicing climbing. 

But conditioning wasn’t like that. He’d seen it from the Older Siblings who couldn’t go to training until their second set of conditioning. The man in the cafeteria. 

{I got into the detective[Expand] track[Expand},} his friend clarified, {But if conditioning is through this method[Expand], putting information in people’s minds? That’s mind control[Expand]. I’ve never read any story[Expand] where mind control is a good thing.}

“I’m sure you would have been an excellent detective,” Even said softly, “...it would have made you one of mine.”

“Better to not think about that, Even. What’s done is done, and more importantly, what hasn’t been done does not need to be grieved,” Laurence said, reaching over to place a hand on Even’s back, “Don’t carry that what-if with you. Just be glad they found him so soon.”

“... I suppose so,” Even said, “For as much of a blessing as that is.”

{What we are forced to do with those abilities is not good, no.} Laurence agreed, {But it is still a wonderful gift. And it gives us all access to something beautiful that we share together. You will have access to it too, today. Sometimes when someone is new here, we let them sleep first, to mentally prepare. But I think you’d handle seeing it sooner well. Have you ever seen the ocean, my boy?}

Ienzo held his hands in his lap, frowning. “...my friend Shuuichi got into the track too. Immediately, he’s barely been at Sunnyside at all.” Ienzo glanced to the side. “Maki gets kind of annoyed at him for that because he acts like it’s a forgone conclusion sometimes, but I think she can tell he’s just sort of out of it, so he hangs out with us sometimes. Even if he’s kind of a jerk when he’s not out of it.”

So Shuuichi would be ‘one of Even’s’?

Ienzo frowned more. Was…he going to have to help condition his friends? 

{...all that was supposed to help Maki. Not be used against her.}

…yeah. 

Ienzo glanced back up at Laurence, worry still written over his face. 

Technically, the ocean wasn’t that far from Seisear. You could make it a day trip if you went by horse. It was why their home had any influence at all, despite its size. Why they could be self sufficient, with Miss Jade’s smithwork sent out over the world with no middlemen, why Father’s textile trade was so lucrative that, as Ienzo had heard the story, there hadn’t been any reservations about his parents getting married, even if Father wasn’t from a noble line. Though it never seemed like Mom and Dad cared about that even a little. 

Ienzo’s heart squeezed. They said they’d take him to see it soon, maybe even after getting back from Othain…

Lips pursed, Ienzo shook his head slightly.

“Not sold then,” Even murmured, Laurence nodding as he picked up on that as well, “Explains the education.”

“Also explains the influx of children I saw the first day. I thought we had more than usual. An orphanage must have had a recent influx. Enough to want to start sending some our way.” Laurence said, “Well, at least it will be mostly devotion training, for now… for your question?” {Even and a woman named Inzi share detective track Indentured. Some of us have certain traits that make some conditioning easier for us than others. Even and Inzi, together, will make your friend incredibly attentive to detail, always alert to his environment, with a phenomenal memory. Their efforts together will give him skills that to the average person will make him borderline magical.}

The words were optimistic, but the intent showed what Laurence wasn’t saying overtly. That these abilities would be forced into Shuichi’s mind, and that he wouldn’t have a choice in how they were utilized. That Inzi and Even’s methods to get his mind into the shape it needed to be to do such things would be terrible, and unrelenting. That despite the reward of having such skills, that Laurence was happy that Ienzo would not go through something similar. A small mercy, now that he was invested in the child.

And perhaps trying to soften the blow of all of that, Even said, “Why don’t we show you the beach then. Laurence is right. Perhaps sooner is better than later.”

Despite everything, Ienzo’s voice was a bit petulant as he muttered, “I finished most of first grade.”

Honestly, Shuuichi might be pretty happy about the memory. Ienzo didn’t really try to upset the older boy, but he did look put out every time Ienzo was able to answer a question faster than him. 

…but everything else? …Shuuichi didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve something that even adults considered too horrible to confront directly, that felt like… Something Ienzo didn’t even have the words for. He was a jerk sometimes, but so were a lot of people, and when he wasn’t like that, he could be a little fun, even, to talk to. And he was Ienzo’s friend. He didn’t want something horrible to happen to his friend. 

He didn’t want to do something horrible to his friend. 

Ienzo made tiny fists in his lap, not taking the out Even provided as he looked up at the adults. “...what about Maki? She got into the assassin track.” Something genuinely disturbed flashed over Ienzo’s face. “We’re not actually meant to literally take away her name, right?”

“Take away her name…? No.” Laurence said, “No, not at all. Some parts of conditioning can make people feel a bit ‘fuzzy’ while they’re going through them, you might just be hearing about people’s thoughts getting briefly delayed–”

“Your friends will be fine.” Even said, “Remember how we said they were not in danger? They’re not. They may feel like they’re in danger here, occasionally, but it’s all artificial. All controlled. Whatever they might believe is happening, their bodies are perfectly safe, resting in their rooms. Nothing here will harm them.”

And whatever happened to them once they left? Was outside of any of their control.

“The others have probably gotten your pallet situated. I know you have more questions still, but I think you’ll find them easier to ask in a nicer setting than… this.” Laurence said, looking tiredly around the bathroom, “Let us show you the island. And we can talk more there.”

Maki would probably call him a crybaby for being worried about artificial danger. Maybe that was a sign that he should just…leave it alone for now. 

Ienzo followed Laurence’s look around the bathroom. “I’ve never had an extended conversation in any bathroom, so I can’t judge how it holds up to anything else. That’s too small a data sample.”

“...okay,” he agreed after a moment, before blinking at Laurence. “Do you need help getting back up?”

Laurence smiled warmly. “I do. Maybe you could help Even take my arms.”

Even gave Laurence an amused look at that, taking his arm and indeed taking all of the weight as he pulled him back up to his feet. Laurence thanked Ienzo as the boy took his other arm and determinedly pulled, clearly putting his all into helping, “Thank you, young Ienzo.”

Ienzo had planted his feet, pulling enough for his cheeks to puff and redden, and he absolutely didn’t help in the slightest. Maki had once playfully pushed him, rolling her eyes at some sarcastic comment he made, and it had entirely bowled him over. Physical aptitude was something Ienzo only had in the barest degree. 

Still, he was politely proud of his efforts as he replied, “You’re welcome, Laurence.”

-

QoQ the start of a beeeauuutiful family

“I feel like you and I watched different memories,” Maki muttered, looking around the industrial sized bathroom as a small Ienzo dutifully stayed near Laurence as they walked, like he might be able to catch the giant old man if he fell, “There’s nothing beautiful about this. It’s tragic.”

OoO You haven’t seen the whole story yet. 

OoO I got to see another version of this a few years from this point

O.O

OOO I WON'T GIVE SPOILERS I SWEAR

“I’m not watching years of their lives. I’m watching a summer. And hopefully that will mostly be my own summer, though…” Maki sighed, looking around, “Nothing is coming to mind…”

OoO actually we might be too far ahead for the ‘start’ still.

O.O we should probably do a memory of Ienzo in the same kind of room you lived in

-

“...it’s a weird sort of fallacy, I think.”

{Hm?}

“I’m okay, and they’d be going through the exact same thing. Shuuichi for sure, but I’m fairly certain Maki would be in the same situation,” Ienzo spoke softly, looking around the small room the Togami employees had left him in. There was only a cushion to sit on, and certainly nothing stimulating even in the texture of the walls, but it wasn’t scary or overly oppressive, and it wasn’t uncomfortable. “Despite that, I had a thought, hoping that they’re alright.”

{Oh, I see. I think that’s still fine to think, as a form of care, but it is important to remember that it’s a fallacy so that thought doesn’t become an anxiety. You’re right, they’re most likely just sitting in a room just like this down the hall.}

“Right… The walls are pretty thick, don’t you think? So even if trying to call out of the room wasn’t discouraged, it likely wouldn’t work, at least for other people in similar rooms.”

{Most likely to get the attention only of the warehouse handlers.}

“Mhmm.” Ienzo looked around the room again, as if he’d missed something on his initial pass. Even scrutinizing every detail for the smallest things of note, it was a whole lot of…nothing. 

“...well, if I’m just supposed to sit here for a few hours, do you wanna play?”

{Obviously! It’s boring for me if I can’t talk to you either. Okay… Um… Okay, I have one.}

“Is it originally written in Common?”

{There’s a chance that could be debatable, but as I understand things, yes.}

Ienzo smiled, holding out a finger to keep track of his first question. “You’ve given me another clue with that. Historical texts and folktales make the most sense to potentially have their roots in other languages. Hm… Would someone be able to make a recognizable costume from the contents?”

{Oh shoot! I just want to be thorough so you don’t accuse me of cheating later! Ugh, yes, I think so.}

Ienzo held out another finger. “Would they wear that costume to a masquerade or dinner party?”

{Depends on the company.}

“Come on, you know what I mean.”

{So do you.}

“Fine…I’ll take that as a no for how I’m narrowing it down…” Ienzo huffed. “Are there m… Beaches?”

{Beaches?}

OoO Is it odd, seeing a cute little baby version of yourself, Four Eyes?

Ienzo opened his eyes from where he had been concentrating on his Lexicon, the memories spilling out from the grand book. And he gave Amaina a small shrug. “Not terribly. One of my greatest assets is my memory, and I review things with relative frequency. In some ways, it’s the upkeep of my library, everything solidifying form by gradually becoming the memory of the memory, and otherwise, I just enjoy rereading old books.”

“Also, I still don’t have glasses,” he murmured, looking over at the small memory. Back before Zexion was Zexion, but more than when he had been a figment. Honestly that was weirder than looking at himself. 

He gave Maki a small, half-embarrassed smile. “It’s only two memories, but I hope it doesn’t strike you as strange how often you and Shuuichi were on my mind back then. Like the games, I think I’d been using you two as a distraction to avoid having to face what was happening.”

“That’s alright, it’s not unusual. I think I was…” Maki’s face suddenly went distant. Looking around uncertainly, before her eyes focused on the cushion. “...thinking about you both too…”

OoO !!

OvO I’ve got this

OoO Time to thread some things together with P O W E R 

“What do you mean–”

-

They didn’t leave. That was what Amaina meant. They didn’t hop from Ienzo’s mind, to Maki’s. Nor was Ienzo’s mind directly tethered to Maki’s, like how the island formed between the Nobodies. 

Amaina just reached out to both.

And held.

-

Maki wasn’t scared. She wasn’t planning to rebel. She wasn’t planning to fight the training that she had been preparing for for months now.

But when she noticed how thick the wiring on the cushion was? Almost idly, she started to work on unthreading it. 

It almost felt like a game more than a plan. Just something to keep her hands busy, as she sat in the bare room and wondered what was happening with the others. Picking at the wire until she found where it ended in its closing of the hard, thick fabric, undoing that end, and then carefully, meticulously, pulling the wire from the cushion. 

Maki was picked to be an assassin because she was physically strong and naturally dexterous. She wouldn’t fall climbing walls, or get dizzy in long heights, or break at the first sign of pain. That’s what they looked for, when picking people to start the assassin track.

It was why most assassins died soon, and stupidly. Maki wasn’t going to survive because she was stronger than the other orphans around her. She wasn’t even going to survive because she was brave. She was going to survive despite the one thing that the program would try, and fail, to beat out of her. 

Maki was creative. 

It was why Maki had barely had to even think about it, before she had found herself, on day one, with a thin, strong fabric wire that she could wrap around her hands, pulling it tight into a string between her fists. It wasn’t a ‘killer instinct’ that gave her a weapon her first day, but merely the creative thought that if she utilized the fabric in that way, then she could clearly picture in her mind, if she needed to, wrapping the line around someone’s throat, and throwing her whole body backwards, and kicking into their back hard enough and long enough that they wouldn’t be able to pull from her grasp, and as they choked, then she could go and make sure her friends were safe and…

She wouldn’t. Of course. It was just her imagination running away from her, that had her so clearly able to envision this process. Imagination and concern for her friends. 

But the fact that Maki still had a weapon from a mixture of that imagination and concern? 

That would be her superpower someday. Not her ability to tuck and roll. Not her aim with the dagger. Her ability to imagine… and act on that imagination. 

Mind you, it was a little hard to see the nuance of that skill, from the outside looking in, watching a young Maki proudly play out over and over again the act of jumping, wrapping the wire around someone’s neck, and then rolling on the ground like she was straddling someone, kicking out, as an older Maki, Ienzo, and Amaina-Chan watched.

O.O

OoO You were kinda a freak

“I was practicing in case I wanted to do an escape attempt,” Maki recalled, the memory still fuzzy, but trickling back with greater clarity the more she watched, “But I don’t think I ever found a reason to. Things were scary, sure, but… but I saw my friends not that long after, and they were fine–”

The memory suddenly shifted. 

They were in a cafeteria. 

It was sunny. There were windows, high near the ceiling, that let in plenty of warm light into the room, as a large group of Indentured all ate at various long wooden tables. It was a large room impossible to escape, with locked doors and guards watching, but it wasn’t a place that felt dangerous or even stifling. There were potted plants in the corners, a large fireplace that was likely lit for the colder nights, and the person at the window who passed them their plates as they waited in line was polite, though there was a sign above them that said they would not engage in conversation or answer questions.

It wasn’t a bad room, for finally seeing the others. It made it feel silly to think of rebelling, even as Shuichi pouted when Maki asked him and Ienzo how they were doing. “It’s really boring. Isn’t it?”

Ienzo watched the room with interest and had been since entering. Even compared to the ruckus of the orphanage, this was the most amount of people he’d been around…ever. There was even something peculiarly pleasant about the humming din that arose from dozens of normal volume conversations. It was so, so far from silence. 

“I don’t think we’ve done anything yet. Considering the nature of contracts, and how many people the administration has to keep track of, I think we’re likely still in a processing stage,” Ienzo said quietly, even with his wonder, having spent enough time at the orphanage to be able to marvel, talk, and eat. He wasn’t sure how much time they had, and he wasn’t about to accidentally starve himself. 

The bread was interesting. It had a type of crackle to the crust he’d never had before. 

“Boring might even be the point, though,” he conceded. “I don’t know enough to say anything certainly.”

Though, even saying that, he paused before lowering his voice, just for his friends. “...some of the people here look notably tired, though. So there’s likely some sort of taxing thing going on.” He couldn’t make even that vague a statement about the uneasiness he noticed, though. It could be something down to personality--too many variables to be worth pointing out.

“I noticed that too,” Shuichi said, looking around at some of the older faces, “I think our group is being staggered with another group. While their group starts to leave, we’re being filled in to take their rooms, sort of thing. Maybe we should ask someone who’s finishing up here what to expect?”

“Fine,” Maki agreed, “Point someone out to me.”

“Um… uh…” Now Shuichi looked less certain, something shy coming over him as he said, “We don’t have to do it now, I’m sure they don’t want to be bothered–”

“Don’t be wishy-washy. Just point to someone.”

Shuichi gave a truly introverted grimace, before pointing to a man–well, more of a teen, but he’d look like a man to the kids–in the corner. “He’s practically falling asleep with that spoon in his mouth. My guess is he’s been here a while, since it was hard to do anything but sleep on the ride here.”

“Okay,” Maki said, standing up, “Ienzo, back me up. Shuichi, watch our food.”

Ienzo glanced over at some of the guards. They weren’t discouraged from talking, or even getting up, and they hadn’t been told they couldn’t talk to other groups, but even so, he kept a broader eye out. Getting in trouble on their first day in the warehouse would be an awful note to set. 

Giving Shuuichi a small, trusting nod, Ienzo got up and followed at Maki’s side, hoping to add to her perception of mass. Even if, as Shuuichi said, the man seemed barely coherent in the first place. He saw some eyes on them, but no one moved. Yet. 

The others watched them the way people sometimes just watched children go by. A small, idle fascination of knowing that, fundamentally, they had no idea what might happen next.

For the man falling asleep around his spoon, he didn’t know the children were determinedly coming up to him in particular, though he blearily watched them approach for quite some time before he realized, “Oh… uh…” he blinked tiredly, “...what?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Maki said, standing determinedly in front of him. An odd fierceness to her stance, despite the fact that she was literally just looking at him.

“Right, so…” Blinking tiredly, the man looked over his shoulder. Maybe they were approaching someone behind him? No. Not unless they just really wanted to look at the potted plant in the corner behind him. He looked at the others sitting at his table, but the ones who were paying attention just looked amused and unhelpful. And most of them just looked tired. “Right, so… so…”

“You’re not very good at speaking,” Maki observed.

“You’re not very polite.” The man grumbled, sipping his water, trying to wake himself up enough to talk to Sudden Children. “What do you want?”

“Have you been here for a while?” Maki asked.

“...” the man’s brow furrowed in confusion. “... I think so..”

“How can you ‘think’ so?” Maki asked, frowning, “Just say yes or no.”

“Oh my god,” Maki, older, said as she watched this. Putting her head in her hands as she realized, “Oh, I was worse than Tim.”

Ienzo tilted his head a little at the man. The man was a little annoyed, but not actually angry. And no one was heading towards them. “Could you count to five, estimating intervals totalling five seconds without a verbal guide, please?” He paused, considering the comment about etiquette, before adding, “Sir.”

Ienzo of the present gave Maki an amused glance. “You wanted a straight answer, I don’t know how you could’ve been clearer than that. Should I take that as your son’s a direct person too?”

“Straight forward to the point of rude, yes. No one can tell him I was worse.” Maki said dryly, “I think I’ve literally said aloud ‘when I was your age’ before.”

This young Maki was not quite Timothy’s age, not yet. But when the man gave the young Ienzo a bewildered look, his eyes unfocusing, and then focusing again at the small ‘sir’ add on, he said dizzily, “What?”

Maki didn’t know what Ienzo wanted, but she squared her shoulders and said with all the sternness in her seven year old heart, “You heard him. Do it.”

The man gave Maki a briefly annoyed look… and then something odd happened to him. His left eyes fluttered a little, before he suddenly murmured, “One… two… three… four…”

“Hey,” a woman sitting next to him suddenly said, giving the two children a sudden, sharp look, “That’s not funny. We don’t play with conditioning here. Go back to your seats.”

“What do you mean ‘play’? We weren’t playing, we were going to ask a question… What happened to him?” Maki asked uneasily, as the man finished counting, looking notably paler after he was done. 

Ienzo frowned, but, to the best of his abilities with an internal clock, counted alongside the man. Though his eyes widened slightly as the woman snapped at them, something in him drawing up to protect them if he needed to. But no one had gotten up as Maki asked what happened.

{...that’s perfect, as far as I can tell.}

“...if he couldn’t tell how long he’d been in here, then I was asking you to test your sense of time,” Ienzo explained to the group they were now the attention of, and the man, before he frowned a little more. “Which isn’t altered as far as I can tell, by the way. Is…conditioning something that can be provoked by questions?”

As if realizing what he was asking, Ienzo quickly hedged, “Which is in itself a question not meant to be forcibly answered, sir.”

“Relax, it’s fine–it’s fine,” the man insisted, noting the woman getting riled up again, “It’s fine, Helly… Look, kids, I’m guessing neither of you met any Indentured before coming here. Or didn’t realize what was happening if you did.” The man said, giving them both tired looks, “It’s usually triggered by hierarchy, but that’s when it’s totally working. When it’s still being trained into us, like this? Sometimes conditioning gets triggered just by hearing someone saying something with too much authority. Tricks your brain into thinking it’s being given an order by your superior. Mine is a little sensitive, though… they’re fixing it. That’s why I’m here again… they’re supposed to be fixing it.” The man tiredly rested his head in his palm as he closed his eyes.

“Conditioning can make you count when you don’t want to?” Maki asked, looking confused, “I thought it was just… training. Like for a job.”

“If the job is ‘count when an 8-year-old is mean to you’ then yeah, you’re basically right.” The man grumbled, eyes still closed. He looked like he was about to fall asleep against his palm. 

“That sounds impossible. Like magic. I don’t believe in magic.” Maki said. 

“Well, that’s a shame. Because it’s the only way you can explain how it works here at all. Because there’s no other way I can explain how it works, other than this place is cursed and just existing here too long makes you conditioned. It’s definitely not the housekeeping lessons they make us do that’s brainwashing us.” The woman scoffed. “Don’t know how else to explain it other than ‘magic’.”

Big Siblings that came back didn’t suddenly do everything the younger siblings said. They still helped take care of the younger siblings of course, that was a duty of a Big Sibling…but they were also Busy. Always preparing for when they’d be whisked away to their career. 

They didn’t do what little siblings said…but maybe they did do what the caretakers said without as much fuss. Ienzo had just figured it was ‘maturity’ or something. But if it wasn’t?

“...that’s what we wanted to ask,” Ienzo said after a moment, frowning at the ‘magic’ comment. “It’s our first day so we can’t know what it’s like--mostly we just sat in a room. But if there are lessons, but not everything that happens is because of them…” Ienzo trailed off, muttering more to himself. “Then what’s actually happening?”

“...look, kids.” The man sighed, forcing his eyes open to look at them, “It’s not that scary. I mean… it’s a little scary, when it starts to work on you, sure. Your body feels… tense. When you have to follow an order. That’s alarming.”

“Subtle,” the woman murmured.

“Shut up,” he said back, before focusing, “But otherwise? It’s not that bad here. We eat regularly, the food’s not bad. The guards let us talk to each other, they don’t rush us through, you’ll only risk getting hurt if you get violent first, that sort of thing. Otherwise it’s long days in your rooms, eating here with everyone, and every day they either have us do lessons in some basic housework, like cooking or cleaning, or they let us run around in the yard to get some exercise. It’s not bad. You don’t have to be scared of your time here.”

“It’s just… you're going to feel yourself change, little by little, while you’re here,” the woman added in, ignoring the man’s dirty look. “You’ll feel more stressed. A bit confused. You might not even understand what you’re feeling at all… but otherwise? He’s right. It’s not so bad.”

“Just keep your head down and do what you’re told, you’ll be fine.”

Young Maki was nodding along, not all that disturbed either way…

…but Older Maki looked sadly at the two teenagers. Younger then, than she was now. 

“They don’t know how to explain what’s actually hurting them,” she realized, watching the memory of them trying to reassure her with new, more knowledgeable eyes, “They probably don’t even know how to explain it to each other. They’re exhausted. They look sick. Their bodies are acting in ways they can’t control… but the actual process of the day to day is so mundane that they can’t say aloud why they’re so miserable, because it would make them sound weak. They’re terrified, and they don’t know why.”

OvO it’s neat, right?

OvO

O.O and sad I mean sad so sad

It likely couldn’t be helped. It was true for most people, but especially for an Empath, memories were so ingrained with emotions. And there was a deep sadness in the sense of all that being a lie tied in from Ienzo’s perspective. It wasn’t that the teens had been lying--they weren’t. They didn’t know how to convey what they were feeling, as Maki said, but it was because Ienzo in hindsight knew the truth that retroactively made it all a lie. 

“Non-psychic or non-psychically aloft consciousnesses just can’t conceptualize the changes of psychic energy around them,” Older Ienzo explained quietly, his fingers curling around the edge of his Lexicon as he looked at the teens with a sort of dull look in his eyes. “Even if you believe in magic, even if you entirely know about psychics. It’s incomprehensible. You’re just left to notice changes that happened under your nose. Entirely subject to whims you can’t notice.”

Ienzo held his book tighter, a slight strain in his voice. “...there’s a lot to fear from this place. Not long ago one of my brothers and I had a conversation about it, and we wished for it to be utterly defaced and transformed into something unrecognizable by the inevitable squatters.” Right now, he was back to wishing it was rubble.

“I don’t feel the same way yet… or, no more than I ever did, just from the stance of hating its role in our Indenturedtude. But, that’s partly why I’m doing this,” Maki said, looking around the cafeteria, noticing with some amusement that Shuichi had absolutely stolen her bread slice while they were gone, “They’re stressed and sick over things they can’t remember. It probably still affects them to this day, their time here, even if their conditioning is broken by now. I’m lucky to get to choose this. I’m lucky…”

Maki let the word trail off… before she narrowed her eyes. “I make the universe bend. If I want to know what happened, I will. And I do. What’s next?”

Ienzo couldn’t help his wince as he looked away. The reminder feeling bleak in this moment that even with him distributing his factor, there was nothing he’d ever be able to do to make up for how people had been painfully changed by him and his family. It was a debt he would never be able to repay. 

…but there was still worth in trying. And right now, part of making it up was to the person beside him, asking for his help in uncovering these memories. 

“I’d think the first time you were summoned to the island would make sense,” Ienzo offered, trying to draw on his own memory of the event. As his Lexicon flipped pages, he smiled softly. “When you first came back, a few months ago, you found those drawings you and Shuuichi made. I figure we may get to see that memory eventually too.

-

Seeing the island had been a shock to Ienzo. Having such a big, vivid place accessible in his mind was astounding enough, but seeing one so…beautiful? In a way that he’d never have been able to imagine? 

The young child had barely been able to contain himself before questions burst forth. 

“Where is this? Where would it be on a world map, I mean? What kind of trees are those? Do things grow here? How did you decide on the arc of the sun? Does the weather change? What was the inspiration for the architecture style of the treehouses? Is there a secret behind the waterfall?!”

“It’s always sunny in here, despite the time of year, so if I had to invent a general location, it would be somewhere in the southern equator,” Even said, placing his hands above him as he watched the clouds drift, like he was mapping the weather patterns, “Though, even the lack of gradual shift in temperature we have here from seasons would make placing it in the real world nebulous–”

“It makes placing it in the real world impossible. For where it actually is, at the moment, it’s mostly being shouldered by Laurence and Luis’ minds, with the rest of us reinforcing it in a complicated but stable knotwork of permanent tethers,” said another, similar voice, “If we’re being accurate. Who’s the child?”

“Vexen,” Even sighed, gesturing to Ienzo, “Meet young Ienzo. He is our newest Empath.”

Luis went over to Terra and nudged him, quietly whispering, “Mate, we’ve gotta put something cool behind the waterfall for the lad to find.”

“Why didn’t we ever think of that?” Terra whispered back, almost giddily pulling Luis along to go work on some island construction while the kid was distracted, “He’s right, man, there’s always cool stuff behind waterfalls in stories.”

Ienzo quickly looked between Even and…Vexen, oddly enough the sound of an ink pen furiously writing on nice, thick paper swirling around Ienzo as his mind whirled at the…implications in front of him. Though what he actually said was, “Even complete fabrications have some basis in reality, because every creative mind that exists can only start building from the knowledge of reality. The combined elements that make this island what it is make it impossible to conceivably exist on a map, but there are parts of it that would clearly be based on realism one can recognize.”

He glanced between Even and Vexen again. “You two are connected?”

“Vexen! Good. The other member of our family that will understand our verbose new little one.” Laurence smiled warmly, tilting his head in a small bow to him in greeting.

Vexen’s brow furrowed. “Famil–”

“And we’re nodding and we’re smiling and we’re holding back questions for later, yeees?” Viz–though Ienzo might have difficulty recognizing the beautiful young woman as such–said to Vexen, pushing up the sides of her cheeks and nodding, “We got a 6-year-old as one of ours. Which means we’re all having some conversations later… but not now.”

Vexen hesitated again, looking a little lost… before he smiled crookedly and nodded uncertainly, Viz nodding approvingly as he looked back down at the boy, immediately dropping the crooked, odd looking smile. “You are correct, and it’s a quick observation for you to make. I have had others immediately ask if I’m a twin, and how on earth they managed to miss me in the room. So you’re already doing loads better than Aqua.”

Ienzo frowned slightly, finishing Vexen’s thought in his own head. Family? He did realize that he was putting the others in an odd position. They had all been shocked to see a child enslaved beside them. And while Ienzo thought himself capable to certain degrees, he most definitely was a child. He needed help here, more than comradery. The adults seemed to consider that a given but…

Be useful. Be fascinating, a novelty. And you won’t be left behind. 

“...I’m 7,” Ienzo corrected, before tilting his head a little. “I guess she already covered it with the question, but there aren’t exactly a lot of places to break line of sight in there. And you were principally concerned with the mechanical function of this place, so it makes sense to at least ask.”

…even still, Ienzo glanced to Laurence and…the other woman who faintly resembled Viz. “...I understand there are other considerations, but I’m good at occupying myself, so other than learning conditioning, I don’t need to be following someone all the time.”

“Mmm… why don’t we play that by ear, young Ienzo,” Laurence said, hesitating for a moment as he reached out… and his courage failed him as he let his hand fall to his side, not giving the boy the pat on the shoulder he had clearly been aiming for as he smiled warmly at him, “Perhaps you are someone who will want a lot of time to yourself. And that’s a fair thing to desire. But even when you were going to be Indentured, in a detective track, you were still going to have a mentor, yes? There’s no need to deny yourself what everyone else is expected to receive. You will not inconvenience us. If anything, I think we’re all a bit excited to have you around, so we may hover too much.”

“We need to introduce him to the other Nobodies,” Dilan murmured, looking around uncomfortably, “Though, perhaps we should have a talk with them before we do. Two weeks… I can’t believe that even with a boy, we’re only getting two weeks…”

“Ah, yes. Introducing him to the Nobodies and teaching him how to condition. Truly, two scenarios that deserve equal levels of care and dread,” Vexen said dryly, glaring at Dilan, who had the decency to look mildly bashful at the callout. “I’ll go talk to the Nobodies. Perhaps let him start designing his world. I can already feel the pocket of his potential straining within the island, might as well start the merge.”

“I had hoped to maybe explain to him first what he was signing up for…”

“That suggests he doesn’t have to ‘sign up’,” Inzi frowned, giving Laurence a worried and slightly scolding look, “Let’s not make it hard by suggesting there’s a choice. We should add him to the island now, as Vexen suggests. It’s easier in the long run.”

Ienzo listened to all of this carefully, quiet but eyes darting to each speaker. “...you’re all connected mentally. That’s what this place is, not just an escape. So then that follows that a ‘world’ is your personal space within here, and…” Ienzo trailed off slightly with a small frown. “...why call them ‘Nobodies’? It’s a bit overly dehumanizing even to remember that they’re part of your consciousness.”

Aeleus looked at Ienzo in slight surprise, but rather than comment on how the kid was able to put all of that together, he just answered, “It’s another level of escape. You’ve identified we’re here unwillingly, and our ability to condition is the same. To live with that, to be able to condition, necessitates the Nobodies.”

Ienzo looked a bit more worried at that, his peek over at Vexen not exactly subtle. 

(It wasn’t fear towards someone capable of conditioning, even if he didn’t know what that entailed yet. It was… As far as he had made his guess, took the information to the logical conclusion he was capable of, he compared Vexen to his friend. So not a carbon copy of Even or himself, but an aspect that grew to have its own perspective simply due to the fact of being able to think on their own. So if someone didn’t want to condition, found it hard to live with, Ienzo couldn’t think how simply having an aid wouldn’t make it hard for them to live with too.)

(His friend was good at dealing with the things Ienzo couldn’t. But that didn’t mean he liked it.)

“To be fair to us, it was a name we inherited.” Dilan said a touch uncomfortably, “From the empaths who developed it originally, I presume.”

“It’s also just accurate.” Viz said, shrugging as her overly long hair swayed behind her, “They have no bodies, not outside of ourselves, and in that same vein, they are no one outside of ourselves. It’s a useful name to remind ourselves that they’re ultimately just figments of our imaginations. We wouldn’t want to lose grasp of that and go mad.”

“Viz, love, don’t say things like that around the boy. No one is at risk of going mad.” Laurence said to Ienzo, now easily bending down onto one knee, the hard limits of his body not a factor here, “It’s a perfectly safe process that, most importantly, means you won’t have to hurt anyone. A small, secluded part of you is going to be actively conditioning other people, but with our process? That part of you will be so walled off from your main consciousness that nothing they do will haunt you, or be your responsibility.”

“I still don’t agree with that second part, Laurence,” Even frowned, Vexen glancing mutely between the two as the Somebody frowned, “But that’s a discussion for another day. Would you like to look around the island with me, Young Ienzo? I can explain more what Nobodies do, and what our day to days look like as we walk around.”

“I’ll go warn the Nobodies to be scarce once their shift is over today.” Inzi said, looking worriedly to her rickety door at the far end of the island, lodged into a massive wooden wall, “Ienzo, do you have any fear of… spiders?”

So, in order to not lose grasp of that, the name and thus the cognitive concept of the Nobodies was sealed in that fate. Not just something to keep in mind, but something impossible to forget. Something about that still didn’t sit right with Ienzo, but he noted the uneasy tones around him, so he kept his mouth shut. He doubted he had it in him to mindlessly agree forever, but right at the start, he could not make overt enemies with the people guiding him. 

Giving Even a nod, agreeing to look around more, Ienzo tilted his head a little at Inzi. “No, I don’t have arachnophobia. I’m pretty certain I don’t have most of the highly common phobias, if that would otherwise be an issue.” He paused for a second before rolling his eyes a little, sighing in exasperation. “Except thanatophobia but I’ll argue that that’s less of an individualistic trait and common to the point of redundancy to point out.”

He paused again, glancing to the water--ocean?? It was so big--before adding, “I don’t know how to swim, though.”

“Aqua will teach you, but I really mean more exploring within the island itself.” Even explained, while Dilan whispered to the confused among them what ‘thanatophobia’ meant. “Mostly the non-swimming bits, if that aligns more with your tastes.”

“I’d like to, then.” While Ienzo waited for Even to lead, he didn’t bother waiting to ask more questions, “What’s the design philosophy behind all of the structures having ladders?”

“The island tends to shift to reflect the main empath pillars holding it up, and our Luis, you might be surprised to know, was a deep east farming boy. If you look closely at the ladders, you’ll notice their wood type and rope structure are all reminiscent of farmland ladders, which farmers favor of stairs partly due to convenience of resources, but also to better control their livestocks movements–”

As Even and Ienzo slowly, meanderingly, walked the beach together, the others leaving Even to take lead on showing the inquisitive boy around, a lot of the questions were both practical and utterly inane discussions of the logistics of the world. Why certain landscapes were designed the way they were, if there were wildlife on the island or in the ocean, was it ever night time on the island, and if so, was the star system accurate to the outside world, and if so, which part of the outside world. 

But when Ienzo asked how many people lived on the island with them, Even hesitated, “Well… it depends on who you ask… but I believe the most accurate answer is that there are 16 of us. Now 17, with you. Soon 18. 8 Somebodies, 8 Nobodies.”

Just as it had seemed on first glance, the island was fascinating. Like as what had come up before, it was an imaginary, fabricated place, but the thought behind the decisions of each part of that fabrication was just as interesting as any tidbit from an encyclopedia or science book about the real world. And even when Even didn’t know the exact reasoning behind something, he usually had a decent guess, if not an explanation for how things functioned in the present. 

Dare he even think it, it was almost even more fun than reading. Discussions usually were. Even with more contentious subjects. 

“You don’t have the same view as Viz and Laurence about Nobodies,” Ienzo decided it was time to point out. “As much as I know about them, I would agree that they’re living, since we’re living, but from that same reasoning one could argue that they don’t count for the number since they’re another aspect of the person that made them. But you’ve haven’t gone with that reasoning.”

“It’s a… highly debated topic, and has been since the first day I arrived, and I have to assume, was first argued among the original empaths, and will be argued among the last of us… assuming this hobble chain ever has the grace to end.” Even murmured that last part to himself, the sound without much hope. Perhaps someday Luminary would stop enslaving empaths they found, but… Even wasn’t expecting to see it in his lifetime. 

“The technical truth of the matter, is that the Nobodies are constructs. They’re as much a person as, say, that tree is an actual tree.” Even said, nodding towards the palm tree, growing crookedly almost entirely horizontally, “The fact that the tree is manifested by all of our imagination and will doesn’t make it any more physically a person, or a tree, then if it was a drawing. Or a daydream. And how strictly some of us would like to treat Nobodies is a reflection of fighting our need to personify anything we take an interest in. Such as, I’m certain, how you are likely already in some respect personifying the existence of that tree, since I have pointed it out to you specifically.”

“That said… there’s a certain level of distancing ourselves from the Nobodies that I do not agree with.” Even admitted, being honest with the boy, “They are us. Vexen is, in my opinion, in every functional way, just me. But living our lives out from a different perspective. He is just me, if I was the one doing the conditioning, being called Nobody. How he feels about that is how I would feel about it, if I were in his position. Which, again, fundamentally I am. And I know in his position, I would want to be treated as someone with both agency and a reasonable expectation of respect from the people around me.”

“But more than that… our Nobodies are us, yes, but they are the versions of us who are… in duress, constantly. You’re quite clever with words, I trust you know what ‘duress’ means?”

Even for more cut and dry existences, personhood was still a hot debate. Thus why the Indentured Program existed at all. Even more, now that Ienzo knew it was just straight up mind-control. 

“There’s the idea that, if at this very moment a perfect clone of you was created, then in that same moment, they would instantaneously no longer be a ‘perfect clone’, and rather would be a different person from the sole fact that they are now experiencing something different,” Ienzo mused, “However, what doesn’t change is the starting point. Every experience and memory that was the same, so in a sense they are you, but down a different path. Reacting as you might, because you both have the same basis. That might change after enough differing events lived through, but not if you account for every event in the sequence.”

Ienzo paused, frowning. This time, instead of pen sounds, there was the sound of quickly flipping pages surrounding Ienzo, even a small breeze swirling around him almost like that was how forcefully the ‘book’ was being rifled through. “Duress, noun, threats, violence, constraints, or other action brought to bear on someone to do something against their will or better judgement; or, constraint illegally exercised to force someone to perform an act. They are us but meant to condition by purpose. Splintered from the main consciousness to…I know Laurence was trying to play it off before, but I think ‘go mad’ would be the correct words to use. Not completely succumb to despair.”

“Very good,” Even complimented, giving Ienzo an approving nod. “And an astute guess. We do tend to try to downplay it somewhat, our concerns for losing grasp of ourselves, but a considerable amount of our cautions and precautions center around, as he said, ‘not going mad’.”

“I don’t wish to alarm you with such talk. You will be fine, I assure you,” Even told the boy after a moment, giving him his first small, warm smile, “We’re going to look out for you. And as alarming as all of this can be? You are surrounded by people who have learned to create lives for ourselves, trapped in a box. It’s not misery…”

Even sighed, looking tired and a little irritated at the poor timing, as a large clock bell went off in the distance. “...not all the time. I lost track of the hour, perhaps we should explore another world…”

But before Even could explain what he meant, the doors around the island started to open one by one. Dazed, stumbling people wondering out of each one, the bell clearly partly meant to alert the island that the crowd was coming, as out of the doors also wandered a few people who, just by the way they carried themselves, would have signalled themselves as ‘Nobodies’, straight and self-assured among the weak and stumbling masses, and a few of them eerily familiar, as Xaldin wiped his brow a bit, snickering as his group of Indentured headed out of his door and to the beach… before he squinted out at Even and Ienzo. 

“Ey! Did you bring one of the fresh meats in early? What are you talking to one of the kids for Even, what, you gonna bore them into being conditioned?”

“He is not ‘fresh meat’, Xaldin. The new Indentured haven’t been brought in yet,” Even said dryly, “Meet young Ienzo. He’s our new Empath.”

“Oh fuck us, no he’s not,” Xaldin frowned, looking down at Ienzo, “...ah fuck.”

Ienzo didn’t literally jump for joy or start grinning, but there was definitely a glow of happiness around him at Even’s approval. Perhaps a strange thing to feel when confronted with the harsh new reality in front of him, a future of dissociation and enslavement, but…well, there were only so many things Ienzo had any choice or ability to change. 

And having someone be impressed and happy with him? Yeah, that really did mean that he’d be looked out for. And that was the best possible position he could be in now. 

Blinking in surprise, Ienzo looked around for a possible source of the bell chime, but soon his attention was diverted to something much more attention-getting. 

…those were the teens he and Maki had talked to. Looking far more haggard than yard exercise or housekeeping classes could account for. Looking…like their fatigue had reason, now. Like it all fit together. He’d known there had to be something more going on; ‘magic’ the one called Helly had said. The term still wasn’t one he’d choose for all this, but he wouldn’t exactly argue with someone who did want to call this magic…

Not having paid any attention whatsoever to Xaldin as he thought and looked at the Indentured, Ienzo only caught the last bit of what he was saying. And quiet, just blinking up at the tall, Dilan-looking man, there was an awkward pause before Ienzo shyly said, “Hello.”

And then just as awkwardly asked, “Does conditioning interfere with sleeping that much?”

“Even, why the hell is it three feet tall?”

“Xaldin, be polite. Or at least more accurate if you’re going to be unkind.”

“Four feet isn’t better.”

“He is a child. You would recognize them better if you weren’t constantly throwing them into holes.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do with an actual little kid? What, is he supposed to condition? This thing?” Xaldin said, gesturing to Ienzo’s everything, “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m sure his Nobody will be… taller,” Even said simply, shrugging, “And look, I’d like to clear out of here before the new Indentured are meant to be introduced.” Even looked down at Ienzo, finally answering, “Not as much as you’d assume. Our shifts–or, well, the Nobodies’ shifts–are broken up into two parts of the night. Indentured are either being conditioned in one half of the night or the other, but not both. So they always get at least half a night's sleep. Many of them nap throughout the day as well.”

“Don’t they know about fishing? You catch a fish and it’s still itty bitty, you throw it back into the water, wait for it to get big and fat. Catch it again later! The hell are we supposed to do? Where the hell is Vexen, I feel like he’d get my outrage more,” Xaldin grumbled, looking around, “They’re gonna raise our damn quota like we actually have another Empath to take on more work…”

He supposed that made sense. Half a night’s sleep over several months would incur a growing beast of fatigue, especially while you were still meant to do things during the day, and if the thing that took up those night hours was even the slightest bit strenuous, then even moreso. The teens didn’t look like they were barely hanging on, just…incredibly, incredibly tired. 

So that was one question answered. 

But as Xaldin grumbled and huffed about outrage, Ienzo felt alarm bells go off in his head. 

“I won’t incidentally make you take on more work,” Ienzo quickly, quietly, but firmly told Xaldin, “Once I’m properly tutorialized, I assure you, I’m quite capable mentally.” He wasn’t dead weight. He would not become something to resent.

Xaldin’s brows furrowed, giving the kid a bewildered look. He looked at Even for help, who shrugged slightly. “He’s quite intelligent.”

“That’s not, I don’t… fuck, I don’t know! I don’t talk to damn kids, I just throw them into holes! I don’t… fuck, I don’t know,” Xaldin grumbled, giving Ienzo a worried, frustrated look, before shaking his head, and walking away. Muttering to himself, “A damn kid… how the hell are we gonna raise a damn kid…”

Even watched him go, before sighing a little. “Apologies, Ienzo. I think you made him nervous. Not your fault. He’s never been in a situation like this before. He’s a Nobody. You are very likely the first child he’s ever spoken to that he’s meant to look at as a person.”

Ienzo shook his head a little, brushing off the notion that he was offended by Xaldin at all. But while the others he’d met had obviously put effort into ‘treating him with kid gloves’, so to speak, Xaldin was more…realistic. Reminding Ienzo more emotionally what was happening, more than any dry, measured and mechanical explanation Even could give him. 

Ienzo was thrust into an on-going situation that would not permit him breaks. 

So he looked up at Even with a small, determined frown. “I believe I have ideas for my world and Nobody--how do I begin the process of connecting to the island?”

Even raised a thin eyebrow, glancing over at the center of the beach. The Indentured were starting the process of ‘remembering’ where they were, dazedly looking for their friends or people they trusted, though a few of them would likely wander away from the others to spend some time alone and just… process for a bit. In an hour, they’d all be a bit more lively, a bit less haunted looking as what happened to them started to feel more like a dream they hadn’t quite shaken. But for now? Most of them would be emotional or lethargic. Rarely, but sometimes, angry.

Ienzo would get used to seeing that, someday. But Even would be happy to keep him from it for now, as he nodded. “If you feel ready to join us? What I want you to do is close your eyes and feel with your body, out to the rest of the island. Somewhere in here, is where your tether is actually connected. It’ll feel the most like ‘you’. That’s where your door will form.”

Not his body-body. As real as everything felt, Ienzo knew that everything he was seeing was essentially extremely vivid imagination. Other people’s imagination, which was incredible, but nothing tangible. So…finding the part that was more his imagination, more like…

Good thing he already had something to look for. 

His friend had never been something tangible either, but there was a sense Ienzo always had of his…presence, maybe was a way to put it. So, as he looked for that familiarity…

Eyes closed, Ienzo let his nose be on the lookout for if he was going to run into anyone, as he promptly trotted over towards a small copse of birch trees away from the beach. 

…

Nothing happened. 

{Feels a little too magical to expect that, huh? C’mon, we can show what we’re capable of--it’d be like tagging out. Just reach for that.}

Simple enough, then. Just–

Ienzo’s world went black.

The island was still there. But it was like Ienzo had stepped into an inkblot, and that ink had spread across the whole island, recreating each twist of birch root in heavy, thick black streaks, the tree Ienzo was next to both in front of him and also somehow shifting second by second, like it was being hurriedly drawn and redrawn over and over in real time. 

The clouds above moved quickly, in that same drawn-redrawn-drawn fashion. Circling a sun that was shaped how a child might draw one. Its gray, yellowish, washed out colors shifting and wiggling out into waving spikes, like the sunbeams of heat were a physical part of the sun that reached out and writhed through the sky like grasping tentacles as the clouds danced just outside of its grip. 

Ienzo would blink and a man–again, only a man in the eyes of a child–sat squatted in front of the trees. Like the rest of the world, his figure inky-black, every piece of him shifting and shivering as he was redrawn over and over, both undeniably present and like any second he might fade out of existence. He wore a hat with a feather in it, the red in the feather the only bit of faded, washed out color on him, as he held a book in his hands.

At first he had no expression. Literally. His eyes a black hole, the void looking back, and no mouth or nose to speak of. But after a moment, a smile was drawn onto his face, as he looked at Ienzo like he recognized something in him.

Mutely, he held out his own book, and opened it up. Holding it for Ienzo to come see.

Of course Ienzo looked at the book. Amid a total loss of sense of reality, of course he looked at the book. 

But his eyes couldn’t even register before color came back to the world all at once and Ienzo’s hand met with another. Though, he couldn’t be that put out, as he looked up to see that that hand was attached to--

“You’re here!” Ienzo gasped softly, looking at the mirror image person in front of him. 

His friend smirked lightly, giving Ienzo an amused look. “We were just talking, of course I’m here.”

“You know what I mean,” Ienzo rolled his eyes, shoving his friend’s shoulder with his own, “You have a form that I’m interacting with.”

Nodding, his friend put an arm around Ienzo’s shoulders and squeezed him lightly. “I have a theory that if either of us had ever turned our senses inward like this, then we would’ve discovered this much sooner. So, now that we’re looking? Here we are.”

That all sounded reasonable to Ienzo, and within the hug, a part of him finally…relaxed. The part that had been on guard for what felt like weeks. Months. Just for this moment, feeling…okay. Though, that’s all it was--a moment. 

“I’m sure you already had ideas, but we’re going to need to work a bit on this place,” his friend said, gesturing to the burgeoning library around them. Only called as such because there was no doubt in either of them that this would be a library, but for now the bookcases looked a bit haphazard, books stacked in odd ways and not even filling everything. “And we need to talk to the others so I understand exactly what I’m meant to do to condition.”

Just like that, the relaxation vanished. 

Lips wobbling in a line, Ienzo squeezed his friend’s hand. “...you heard all that, right? Nobodies are us under constant duress. What their prime purpose and actions in life are, are all the things that drive someone to the brink. Forever. Forever.”

(It hit Ienzo a little harder, right then. This was forever. This was life, forever. He was never going to leave this place.)

But his friend just gave him a small smile and turned to face Ienzo head on. He put his arms on his shoulders and pressed their foreheads together, identical blue having no choice but to meet. “I’ve always been here to protect you, Ienzo, and that’s not going to change now. It’ll be hard, I’ll struggle, but how is that different from anything else we’ve already done? And just like those, we’ll figure things out, because we have each other.”

His friend’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “One of us is already formidable. Two heads together? We’ll be unstoppable. Even under duress, even in despair, even in pain and suffering. We’ll find the right places that have some give.”

Ienzo couldn’t help but match his friend’s smile, though there was a heavy sadness to him all the same, shoulders slumped under his friend’s arms. “...I still don’t want you to hurt. So…we’ll find better ways to do things.”

“Obviously,” his friend said with an almost dismissive confidence. “...by the way, you noticed it too, right? Vexen, Xaldin. They’re just anagrams of the Somebody’s name, with an added X. I am you, after all, so it makes sense to call me Zexion, no?”

Ienzo’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, before he smiled warmly. “It has a nice sound to it. Zexion… Yeah.” Moving his head off of Zexion’s, Ienzo enveloped his friend, his Nobody, in a tight hug before taking a breath. “Okay, let’s get to work.”

-

On the island, by the trees? There had just been a small shimmer before Ienzo simply disappeared. No other sign or indication that anything had happened.

“...” Even blinked, before looking around. Then looking around again. “...I’ve lost the child.”

“.......oh, I’m going to be a terrible father,” he muttered.

-

“So your first day on the island, you made yourself a weird library, your imaginary friend became a real-ish person, and you saw an ink-ghost-person in a weird drawing place and…none of it phased you,” Maki noted, watching a small Ienzo and small Zexion excitedly start working on their magical library. “We should definitely never show Shuichi these memories. I think he might poison you out of jealousy.”

Ienzo watched the memory of his and Zexion’s younger selves with a small, fond smile, before he let out a small huff of a laugh at Maki’s observation. “I was freaked out plenty. The ‘ink-ghost-person’, I found out from the others later, was a phenomenon that we all experience when connecting ourselves to the island, and never again. The most sound theory is that what we see are memories of the original island Empaths, and we see them as the ‘bedrock’ or foundation to what we are attaching ourselves to.”

“And the reason I wasn’t freaking out about him more, was because as you noted, my imaginary friend just became a real person in front of my eyes.” He gave Maki a small shrug. “Zexion had already been with me for years at that point, already someone dear and intrinsic to my very being, so seeing him as something I could actually see waylaid every other thing I could possibly think about.”

He sighed. “...and I had been explained the concept of worlds and Nobodies already, if not in detail; I was expecting them. I was able to not focus on what any of that meant, mostly, I believe, because Xaldin’s panic upon seeing a child he’d have to interact reasonably with freaked me out so much I put all of my energy into proving him wrong. There were plenty of more outward freakouts later.”

“...maybe not outward, but meeting you two on the island again was definitely…not the sort of reunion that’s exactly happy,” he noted after a moment, giving Maki a small nod as if to ask to proceed.

Maki sighed, nodding to all of that–Amaina watching both of them with keen, learning eyes–as she explained, “The memory is already coming back. That’s why I think Shuichi would resent your memory of the first day. It…hurts a bit. Remembering how it went for him…”

-

The day had been easy. The new Indentured not even doing anything in particular. They had had a group class where they were sat down and taught, very sternly, that there were certain cleaning products you never mixed together without risk of hurting yourself or others. Then, after being told they’d do a test at the end of the week to ensure they remembered which chemicals, one of the people leading the class–a young woman with dark hair and piercing eyes who was, actually, quite nice to the group of Indentured, and who none of them could possibly guess was planning to whip someone later that day to ensure a small demon knew that was always a possibility–had smiled sympathetically and said, “But, sometimes the people we serve don’t understand the dangers and insist. So, here’s how to mitigate the effects if someone forces you to work with those mixed sorts of chemicals.”

After that it had been being taught what sort of masks to use, gloves, why they worked the way they did. A lot of the classes for general housekeeping that all Indentured had to go through were full of little lessons like that. Here’s what you shouldn’t do, but if someone makes you do it? Here’s how to keep yourself a little safer. 

Go eat. Go walk around the courtyard a bit. Go back to your room and sit.

The only times, during the day, things got hard was when someone resisted the rules. Refusing to be obedient led to harsh, public scoldings, loss of privileges, sometimes it even led to group punishments, such as food time being cut short before everyone could eat or courtyard time being revoked. It was rare, though, for anyone to be physically harmed unless they attacked first. 

All of this created an atmosphere where obedience was encouraged–and often enforced–between the rank and files of the Indentured themselves, when they were in groups. Too many half reasonable arguments of ‘why fight when it’s not so bad’ even in the face of their own isolation, imprisonment, and complete submission to the warehouses and its staff, and too many frustrations and fears of one person ruining it for everyone else.

A young Maki found herself actually pretty okay, in an environment like this. She liked learning new things, she loved courtyard time, and she found it easy to quietly obey the strict schedules and routines without much fuss. When she was bored, she simply went away in her head and daydreamed about all the things she was going to do once she was out of the warehouse and becoming an assassin. Excited to learn cool new skills and do exciting missions where she’d take down bad guys and maybe rescue a pretty girl and, she guessed if she had to, some stupid boy or something.

Maki was fine. Happy even.

Shuichi three days in was already losing it.

“They’re stupid,” he whispered again, glaring at his mash potatoes, “If we’re not supposed to mix the chemicals, we should just say no. We shouldn’t have to listen to stupid people tell us to do stupid things. They should be forced to not be stupid.”

“We’re not going to be allowed to say no, remember?” Maki said, giving her friend a worried look as he jabbed his spoon into the mashed potatoes like he was stabbing something, “They’re just trying to keep us safe.”

“They’re making us slaves,” Shuichi said.

Maki stiffened, eyes going wide in offense, before looking around worriedly, leaning in and whispering, “You can’t say that, that’s a bad word.”

“My mom and dad said it’s only a bad word to idiots who don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Hey,” Maki frowned, “I’m not an idiot.”

“...sorry,” Shuichi said, deflating a little as he nodded, “You’re not an idiot. But idiots taught you a stupid thing. Everyone here is being taught to be a slave. And they’re trying to make us more stupid to fit it.”

“No one here is stupid. You’re just being mean.”

“.....sorry,” Shuichi whispered again, “....you know, when my uncle finds me? I’ll tell him you’re here too. Or I’ll tell him you’re wherever you are after this. He’ll come get you. Then you can come home with me to my parents.”

“Didn’t you say the guards took your parents?”

“They’ll come back,” Shuichi said, looking around the room disdainfully, “We don’t belong somewhere like this, we’re too smart. We can’t let them make us stupid…”

Maki didn’t know what to say to all of that. She didn’t feel stupid after that day's class. She felt like she knew what mask to wear if she was near dangerous chemicals. That felt smart. But Shuichi resented all of this so much that it was hard to argue with him. In his mind, the class had ruined them, in some fundamental way. Shuichi offended to even be prepared for a scenario where he’d have to listen, and obey, when someone was wrong.

The two kids ate in silence for a bit, before Maki looked around again. “Do you think Ienzo was put into a different lunch time?”

“Maybe his parents came to get him?” Shuichi asked.

“...maybe,” Maki said, unwilling to share that she was pretty sure Ienzo’s parents were dead. Shuichi held onto the idea that some of the orphans’ parents were just sorting out their lives and then would come get their kids dearly. It was what was keeping him going. Maki wasn’t sure what would happen to Shuichi, the day he gave up on that idea. He was already struggling a lot.

And the day was the easy part…

-

That night, though, would prove to be a different story.

When Maki went to sleep on her cushion, she had a strange dream.

-

“Okay, second shift,” Luxord murmured, one of the rare times the gambling Nobody ever came out of his world as he shuffled out, the Indentured from the first shift disappearing after resting on the island for a few hours to sleep in the real world. Luxord was identical to Luis in every way, with the exception that he wore a black robe, and there was a bitter sort of seriousness in his drunkenness that set him apart from Luis, who was just sad when he was drunk, or occasionally happy. 

Luxord was, by all accounts, just Luis when he was ready to do the work… but still his own person, of course. Enough of his own person that he was fiercely private, and only came out of his world to the main island for sorting events. Like today.

It was a trait in Luxord that Vexen actually somewhat respected, as he gave the other Nobody a nod in greeting as he approached the center island. If Luxord preferred to be alone, that was his prerogative. He wouldn’t be the first Nobody that didn’t end up being social. That was one of the few choices Nobodies were allowed to make.

Luxord warily nodded back, before sighing as he looked around the new group of Indentured that were appearing on the sand, “Entirely new batch?”

“Entirely new.” Vexen agreed.

“Alright, alright, group up! No wandering!” Clenaxure–please, call him Clen, everyone does–shouted between his hands, stumbling back and around like he was half dancing, half about to fall and somehow still catching himself on every step, the hem of his suede suit dancing around his hips as he herded the group, “Everyone line up! We’re gonna go through the group one by one and figure out who you belong to! It’s gonna be totally painless, easy-breezy! Aye, chucklefucks in the back, you think we can’t see you? Line up!”

Honestly, Ienzo nearly missed it. Since ‘disappearing’, he and Zexion had been hard at work, adjusting their world. A lot of books were already there, just from Ienzo’s initial intent with the concept of his world, but seeing those, the two thought…well, why not? Why not fill the library with every book they had ever seen? It was just what Ienzo had used his Empathy for his whole life, purposefully cataloging everything he ever experienced. Now, it was just taking all that data and formatting it into specific objects, then filling the bookcases with it. 

And, well, a library was more than just a storage room of books, so they worked on the decor as well, adjusting lighting, adding comfortable chairs and couches and working desks, even a book wheel or two for intensive projects…

It was a lot of work, and work that took time. Especially since no one had been able to find him on the island, it was only Aeleus sending Ienzo a direct intent message to get him to ‘wake up’ to eat that brought him out of it at all, and even then the boy was distracted. 

Less…so with something that came with a smell he couldn’t ignore as much. But he had already been planning on observing some of the conditioning process, so Ienzo was able to leave his project for a time to see…

“Hey, faster we get this sorting done, faster it’s alllll over, you get it?” a man drawled with an easy grin, his large, leathery wings folding as he touched down on the beach. “Last thing any of us want is this to drag on--all got places to be.”

A slightly airy, but bright voice sang out, “Alrighty then~! To all you happy people: Welcome welcome, glad you came!” as a short woman with raspberry colored hair and horns guided the Indentured into a line like a sheepdog, her grin sweet as she gave a wink to a few of them. 

A few of the older Indentured blushed at the winks, but most everyone was just nervous and looking around warily at the island. Little by little the new group of twenty Indentured were lined up into two rows of ten, the Nobodies lining them up by height with the practiced ease of professionals who had done this over and over.

Luxord noticed Ienzo standing off to the side and winced, leaning over to whisper, “Ey, should the lad be here?”

“Where’s he supposed to be? If he wants to see, let him see.” Xaldin shrugged, before grimacing as two of the shortest Indentured took their places in the front of the line. “Great, two more of the brats. Man, I hope they’re not mine, I’ve already got three right now. These little bastards bore the shit out of me.”

Maki and Shuichi both felt very, very small in that moment. The two getting into the positions they were being nudged into as they stood in front of a wall of adults behind them, and looked at a wall of adults that was forming in front of them, the Nobodies standing in front of the group as they looked over the new Indentured. Maki was staring at Raxter in bewildered astonishment, as Shuichi whispered, “Demon?”

“Demons…aren’t real,” Maki whispered back. She had always taken pride in not being one of the kids spooked by ghost stories growing up, and didn’t know how to reconcile that part of her identity with what she was looking at now. 

Vexen counted off the group, looking at his clipboard. “Alright, that matches the report Even was given. Twenty new Indentured…well, at least they didn’t surprise us with a sudden higher quota. Though, Lexaeus, I think they gave us one more than you’re supposed to be getting. Five of them are going to brothels, not four, do you think you’ll need help with an additional person?”

Lexaeus looked over the group of Indentured with a cool, appraising eye…before he gave Vexen a small shrug. “I might, but let me see how the preliminary session goes. If I have someone more difficult, I’ll pose it to the group, and we’ll see if anyone can find wiggle room with their new batch too.” It wasn’t like Lexaeus won all his fights against his Indentured immediately--as much as he practiced, there was only so much battle prowess Aeleus could give him. But usually he didn’t have matches that were barely won, and he could handily grind in the necessary feelings of subjugation to his Indentured. It’d just depend on how long the fights took, with this new batch. 

Ienzo bit his lip as he looked onto the scene from the trees, the difference from where he was standing and where Shuuichi and Maki were feeling almost like poetic stage direction. A pointed narrative scene to show off the divergence of their lives now. His friends facing off the Nobodies, and Ienzo among them. 

He wouldn’t do something dumb like run up to them now, interrupting the start of the Nobodies’ work. There were only so many hours in the night, and he didn’t want to cut short their rest either. But even just in feeling, going up to his friends felt…sour. 

What was he even supposed to say to them?

His friends were about to be mind controlled. And there was nothing Ienzo could do about it. 

From the ocean behind the group of Nobodies, gold eyes blinked from the water. Staring at the two young children at the front of the line.

“We’ll call out yours first then so you can get started, it sounds like it’s going to be a long first night. Let’s see… step forward if your name is called! Aurre, Susana, Br…ajgn? Brajgn. Daria, Lucy!”

Five of the older Indentured warily stepped forward, going around the front group as Even talked to each of them individually, ensuring he had the right person who was going to the right career track, before gesturing to Lexaeus, “Follow him, you’re his now.”

Maki could feel Shuichi next to her. A chill running through her spine. Like every word was making him colder. More furious. “Stay calm,” she whispered to him, “I don’t think this is actually happening. I think we’re dreaming.”

“Which one of us?” Shuichi asked quietly, still seething.

“...both?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Okay, with the obvious ones done… let’s just go down the line,” Vexen said, looking to the very front of the line, Maki and Shuichi staring back at him, Vexen pointing to Shuichi, the shortest of the group, “You. What’s your name and career track?”

“...” Shuichi mumbled something.

“Again?”

“None of your business,” Shuichi said again, glaring at Vexen.

There was a burble from the ocean, gold eyes squinting in amusement. Raxter glanced over and stifled a laugh. Good on the kid, but encouraging rebellion now would just make whoever’s job it was to condition the kid harder. 

Ienzo sighed a little as he listened to Shuuichi defy Vexen. There was a part of him that wanted to ask if he should help explain things, since he knew Shuuichi…

But what was Ienzo supposed to do? Smooth things over so that his friend would be mind controlled more easily?! …but none of them had a choice. It’d happen either way. The Indentured had to go through the factory and had to be conditioned. The Empaths had to condition, or…

(The smell of blood had been so strong it made Ienzo feel sick. Even now he’d buried his nose in his arms as he curled back up on his pallet to go back to the island.)

Ienzo swallowed uneasily, and sent to Vexen, {His paperwork name is Shuuichi Saihara, and he’s on the detective track.}

“Shuichi Saihara,” Vexen said, glancing around the lineup of Indentured, “Detective track. Not surprising… intelligence tends to breed defiance.”

Shuichi’s lips thinned into a line. “If you knew, why did you ask?”

“Because, young Shuichi… it doesn’t matter what you think we do, or don’t, know,” Vexen said, standing straighter, seeming to almost be physically taller as he stepped towards the child. Talking to the boy, but looking at the rest of the Indentured. His message clear in who he was conveying it to, as he explained, “What you think we do, or don’t, deserve answers for, or obedience to. Your perception of reality? Is secondary. To us, to the citizens of Luminary, to whoever will own your contract and care for you in your time through it. Whatever you think is true–that I do know your name, don’t know your career, that the sky is blue–is irrelevant to whatever I say or tell you is true. I ask the questions. Your job is to answer it to the best of your ability. Regardless if I know the answer or can get it elsewhere. Regardless of anything.”

“From now on, your only reality is whichever reality suits your keepers,” Vexen said, looking sternly at the group, before looking down at the boy, “Fighting that will only lead to pain. And terror.”

Shuichi bristled… but he was also starting to shiver. Defiance still on his face, but tears starting to well in his eyes. Gripping his hands into fists as he shakily said, “Y-you’re stupid. That’s stupid. I’m not going to blindly obey stupid orders or answer stupid questions–”

Vexen reached out to grab Shuichi… but stopped. The girl next to him suddenly standing in front of the boy. Panting a little, clearly frightened herself… but she took a breath, and suddenly that fear seemed to leave her. The girl staring at Vexen with a surprising amount of fierceness for such a small body, as she simply said, “Don’t.”

{Who is this?} Vexen asked Ienzo.

To be Indentured wasn’t just to have a dedicated job, wasn’t repaying society until you paid your due. It was to give up your brain. To give away your logic, to give away your will, to give away your dreams and just…be what someone luckier and more powerful than you said. Without choice. 

Why?

Who decided that? 

(“Sometimes people crave power because they cannot accept things out of their control, Ienzo,” Father sighed, dabbing a disinfectant-soaked cotton to tiny papercut ridden hands, “The movements of the planet, natural disasters, the fact that…people are all their own intricate, vibrant worlds and even the most predictable person might choose something that would surprise you. Some people can’t handle that. So they position themselves and the world around them that it doesn’t matter what others choose, and then they can pretend that it is all under their control. It’s a sad way to live, son…”)

…things could always change, because nothing was under full control.

Ienzo held onto the tree he was partially hiding behind tightly as he watched Maki dart in front of Shuuichi, feeling like a traitor that he wasn’t running over to do the same. 

{...Maki Harukawa, in the assassin track. She’s my friend; she told Shuuichi and me that if anyone tried to hurt us here, she’d deal with them.}

{...}

Vexen had started to send a message back. But the only thing that got through was the raw, honest feeling of not enjoying punishing someone’s courage in protecting others. Ienzo getting a flash of a rebellion that, at that point in time, hadn’t happened that long ago. A rebellion that was constantly on the verge of starting up again. A flash of the man’s love–and fear–of Aeleus. 

None of these were the intended message. Vexen closing the link when he realized he didn’t know what he wanted to say, as he said, “Maki Harukawa. Our young assassin. The only one in the group. You know, selflessness doesn’t become an assassin.”

Maki’s brow furrowed in confusion. “...selflessness?”

“Not very well educated, I see,” Vexen murmured, “It means ‘to prioritize others over yourself’. Think the opposite of ‘selfish’.”

Maki absorbed that… before heat started to radiate off of her. Her pigtails shimmering and shifting above her shoulders as she said, “...he’s mine.”

“Hmm. Possessive. You should keep that in mind, Mixvaz,” Even said, “You two will go to–”

“H-hey! Leave the kids alone!” one of the older Indentured, a man, suddenly found his courage. It was hard not to, seeing the little girl be so openly defiant to protect her friend, her courage spreading as other members of the group started shuffling on their feet, their fear ebbing away in this strange situation as more than a few of them felt shamed to still be cowering while the two smallest among them openly defied. “Who the fuck even are you people? You can’t tell us what to do!”

“Where even are we?” another woman asked, looking around in confusion, “I don’t… remember coming here, I don’t… did you kidnap us?!”

{Uh, I think we’re losing control of the crowd, folks.} Luxord warned them, a few of the Indentured giving him openly appraising looks, Luxord being sized up for a fight. {Can we put a stop to this before we have another Karla moment?}

{I’m coming.}

Vexen almost told her not to. That she didn’t need to, they could handle this… but he saw Ienzo watching from a distance, and decided perhaps it was best the boy see this. To see a flash of Nobodies’ powers, and what he himself could be capable of.

None of the Indentured could see the door of the wooden wall at the far corner of the island open, nor see how no one stepped out of it… but that the sand below the door suddenly bulged. Then flattened. Something moving within the ground.

“I’d advise all of you to line back up and be quiet.” Vexen said, “You do not know what you are tempting.”

“Seriously, you lot, calm down! This is us being polite and pleasant! You don’t want to see us pissed off.” Clenaxure smirked, dipping down his hat a bit as he saw little signs of the sand bulging, then settling, getting closer to the group. “It gets real ugly.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Maki said, while Shuichi stepped closer to her, still angry and still sniffling in his outrage at it all, “I’m not afraid of anyone.”

“You’ll learn.” Vexen said.

Sand exploded everywhere suddenly, like a bomb without the bang, as the older Indentured suddenly gasped and stumbled backwards. A few of them screaming in terror as a massive, gnarled black spider–one of its mutated limbs only clearly a woman after a few glances, but her long black hair hiding her almost grotesque human appearance from obvious sight from where she was growing at the head of the spider body–erupted from the sand, just behind the children.

“MAKI!” Shuichi screamed, as long spider limbs reached around him, reaching for her in terror.

But Maki didn’t reach back. A moment of true terror having her recoil and step back as the legs curled around Shuichi’s body, before the spider dove back down into the sand. It and the boy gone in an instance. 

“...Sh… Shuichi?” Maki whispered. Staring at where he had been. Shivering violently. “...Shuichi?”

Ienzo swallowed, his expression dulling out as something squeezed in his chest. That answered the other question. Indentureds couldn’t rebel on their side, because by the time anyone understood what they were rebelling against and why they should, it was physically too late. And the Empaths couldn’t on their side, not just because of pain that already looked inhumane to Ienzo, but…

But because they had tried. And failed. And failed so hard that…

Ienzo almost missed the happenings on the beach, images of cold, greyed skin and still chests freezing him in place. And he could only watch as Shuuichi was swallowed into the ground by… That explained why Inzi had asked if he was scared of spiders. 

-

A bit incongruent to the scene, Older Ienzo let out a small, soft sigh of grief as he watched the chaos. He missed Laurence, Viz, Terra, Clenaxure, Mixvaz, Raxter, Aaxqu, Inzi…but this was Zinxi’s first appearance, and since they had no way of going through Shuuichi’s memories this way, they’d likely not be seeing much of her in these few months going forward. He barely saw much of her for months even after that first summer. She was hardly sociable in later years, but before she and Xaldin had gotten together, having trouble with indignant Indentured on the beach was all Ienzo had ever seen of his aunt at all. 

…he really missed her. He missed all of them. 

-

Right in the scene, though, Mixvaz siddled up to Maki, whistling overly casually before she sighed, leaning down just a little to peer at the shocked girl’s face. “Bummer, huh? That’s the price of not doing as you’re told, chica,” garnet eyes glimmered dangerously, “the people you love get hurt. All because you couldn’t play along.”

“C’mon,” she waved, straightening up, “I’ll teach you how not to make that mistake again.”

“Wait, but… but what happened to Shuichi–”

“Girl, are you crazy? Just go with her,” one of the other Indentured worriedly hissed, the Indentured bunching up again as they looked fearfully at their feet. The sand no longer safe. “Do you want to be next?”

Maki gave the man a bewildered look… before uncertainly obeying. Following Mixvaz.

Unlike the other group of Indentured, who had followed the large man as a group of five, only Maki followed this bright, colorful looking woman. It was much harder to feel brave by herself, as she was separated from the rest of the group. 

But after a bit, she had to ask, “Is Shuichi okay?”

“Tough question right off the start. Neko’s gonna have a field day with you,” Mixvaz laughed to herself, her high pigtails bouncing with the motion. “Easiest way to answer is--he will be, if you do what you need to.”

Right now, Mixvaz was new. Purely music and bright colors and what she needed to be to get the job done. (But that was never quite true for each iteration of Viz’s Nobodies. There was something that had stuck around from the very beginning, with every new face.) And, looking over at the young girl, Mixvaz’s smile grew smaller. 

“A little bit of advice, just between us?” she offered as she opened a door to a blast of music, bright neon lights glaring even if the interior looked almost pitch black otherwise. “Anyone who owns you, or who’d want to hurt you? Would take one look at you and know the deepest wound will be to hurt who you love. So the best way to protect them is to not make yourself a target.”

“...” Maki looked wary at the flashing lights in the darkness behind the door. She looked over her shoulder, suddenly aware that she had been taking the calm sunshine of the beach for granted. The company of the others for granted. She didn’t want to go into that strange place alone… 

It was looking over her shoulder, that she suddenly spotted Ienzo. Her eyes widening in shock. What was he doing over there? Away from the group? Had he escaped?

He might have escaped.

Not wanting to give him away, Maki suddenly hurried and looked forward again. Steeling herself as, still not wanting to possibly clue the person that she had seen one of her friends hiding, she stormed inside.

Maybe what the woman was saying was true… but better her a target, than someone like Ienzo. Someone like Shuichi.

She could handle it.

-

O.O

OoO man you had a whole ‘sister’ complex right from the beginning huh

“I had an overinflated idea of how much tougher I was from everyone else, right from the beginning,” Maki said dryly, watching her younger self storm into a room that was already starting to make her twitch, though she couldn’t remember much of it now. “It never really went away.”

OoO probably the whole ‘being a dragon’ thing

“...” Maki glared at Amaina, who stared blankly back at her. “...do you just tell people that?”

OoO tell people what?

O.O ……..

Amaina suddenly glanced over at Ienzo, before saying loudly, OOO OH RIGHT UH NO I MEAN METAPHORICALLY

OmO;;

QOQ DON’T EAT ME I FORGOT OTHER PEOPLE CAN’T SEE IT

Seeing this part from Maki’s perspective, Ienzo felt his shoulders drop a bit. There had been no choice either way, he knew, and it probably would’ve been worse if she’d given Mixvaz a harder time, but…

Well. What was done was done. 

…even if context of the past gave way to understanding that could help you in the present create a clearer picture of the future and--excuse me, what?

Ienzo’s head snapped away from the memory, eyes wide as his jaw parted his lips, just staring at Amaina and Maki for a moment. And then?

“Is that what the mountain is?!” he asked in a burst breath, Ienzo’s entire body thrumming with questions as his Lexicon glowed. “A dragon?!”

“No fuckin’ way,” he murmured, “From the skull in the desert we gauged the size to be…that’d fit. Volvagia would be even smaller than a baby…”

“I should cut you,” Maki told Amaina.

OoO I am small and cute

O.O and also am not physical in a way where a cut would have any real effect on me

QOQ BUT IT’D STILL MAKE ME FEEL BAD SO DON’T

“I’m not actually a dragon. Not in a way that… matters. Mattered.” Maki hesitated, looking back at the beach, which was empty now. Maki unaware of what happened to the group past this point, her mind just leaving the scene an empty, warm beach. “...maybe. It’s hard to explain. I’m Maki Harukawa. I’m a person. Human. 24 and mortal. When I first heard of the ‘dragon’ thing, it felt so entirely outside of myself that I felt offended anyone even suggested it was me. I’m so clearly… not.”

“But I remember this more now,” Maki said, closing her eyes, more memories starting to form of her time on the beach, “And I remember… that there was always this sense of being in a dream. Not enough to save me from the harm, or the very real effect the conditioning had on me. I’m too human for that. But a part of me… a part of me wasn’t affected, by what all of this was. Couldn’t be.”

“I think that was the dragon,” Maki said, opening her eyes and looking around, “Sleeping. Still. The dragon didn’t care about any of this, not enough to stop it. It… she… only started waking up recently. But the mountain has always been there. And I think the lucidity I had here was from that… though I can’t help but be bitter.” Maki sighed, glaring at where the group had been. “I could have burned these people. Eaten that damn spider bitch… but the part of me that could didn’t care. It wasn’t her problem. What a bitch.”

Maki didn’t curse often. She was angry. 

“Anyway, yes, Ienzo. The mountain in my mind is a dragon. Usually she’s sleeping. I’m her… I was told it wasn’t a ‘reincarnation’ because I just am still her, but I think whoever told me that was wrong. So I guess I’m a reincarnation of her. Or something. I inherited a dragon from a past life. Or something.”

OoO you sound like you really have all of this figured out

“It’s hard. I know what I am, and it’s not a dragon. But there’s still a dragon there, and it affects me and my life. So… it’s hard.” Maki growled. “It’s not exactly like there’s a technical manual for this sort of thing.”

“Fascinating,” Ienzo breathed, immediately striking off the more biological questions from his Lexicon--a shame, but understandable--before there was a short note of a hum in his throat. “There is a theory of sorts that implies a manner of “magical”-- “magical” being a catch-all term for all energies not kinetic, potential, light, magnetic, and plasmid-- resistance inherent to those aligned with it. The same idea of a venomous creature being immune to similar venoms and poisons, for example. It seems as though you essentially functioned as a low-level psychic then, and…well, now as well, I’d think.”

Ienzo had been about to explain that they had found other psychics among Indentured, more than the members of his family that had been caught, but psychics with a low enough awareness that not even Tengan could catch that they’d let those people through. 

But as Maki described the certainly not low-level feats she was capable of, talking about setting his family aflame, eating Zinxi--

It was a split moment of fear, suddenly switched into the center of a volcano, staring down a dragon’s maw before--

OᯅO Ienzo! Breathe!

Zexion had suddenly appeared in his Chibi-form, but as he pulled Ienzo down into sitting, trying to snap the pale, vacant, frightened look on his Somebody out of it, he popped into full size, glancing over at Amaina and Maki with a slightly frustrated, but mostly concerned look. 

“What the hell are you guys doing?”

Maki and Amaina had watched this quick, odd series of events with mutually confused looks… glancing at each other. Do you know what happened? No.

“...watching memories?” Maki said like it was a question, frowning as she stepped forward, looking down in concern and Ienzo and Zexion, “What’s happened? You look like you nearly fainted.”

Nudged into breathing with his head between his knees, Ienzo shook his head a little under Zexion’s hands. Explaining, a little shakily, “Maki wants to understand her time in the factory, and Amaina-chan has found a way to unearth them by linking them to my memories.” He swallowed hard before saying, “...you may find it unfortunate, but I’m very grateful you didn’t end up eating my family.”

Zexion gave them all incredulous looks before what Ienzo {meant} filtered in, and he huffed. “...you’re seriously doing this right now? I guess we’ve never had great timing…” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before shaking his head, gesturing to Maki as he quickly explained, “One of our constructs was eaten by our brother’s construct, which was a dragon. While 14 was completely destroyed, considering that we all had an ongoing connected network between us all, we know exactly how he felt before dying.”

He gave Maki a small shrug. “As you might be able to gather from even just how our family’s acting in the castle currently, we’re not a group that deals with grief peacefully.”

With a few heavy breaths, Ienzo spoke back up. “Sorry, I’m good. Honestly I thought some of the memories of the next few weeks would be the things to affect me more, though I couldn’t have guessed that you having aspects of a dragon would come up.”

Maki stared at Ienzo and Zexion. Considering what they said. Dying…

Maki frowned, sitting down with Ienzo. Her back to the door that held her memories, as she gave him an empty look that still somehow conveyed her concern, as she said, “...you consider the loss of the other Zexions a death?”

Maki had been there, in the fight against the Zexions.

There had been more than she could count.

All gone now.

Zexion looked away, eyes low. 

“...it’s complicated,” Ienzo said after a moment, testingly straightening up, then staying there when Zexion didn’t force his head low again. “Even back then,” he gestured to the memory beach behind them, over a decade and a half in the past, “some of us…knew. That our Nobodies were more than - than a table we could construct. My dads, my aunts and uncles, from the people that taught them, they were always told that our Nobodies were tools and nothing else. Clever tricks passed down from our progenitors to ensure our survival. But by the time I came around--you heard what my dad said: our Nobodies deserve consideration and respect. When Marluxia was made, only someone stubbornly keeping their head in the sand would say that the way Mars cared about Laurie, about all of us, was just a defense mechanism, and not just a genuine part of his personality. By the time Isa was here, and what they did to him and Saix… It wasn’t just a lost asset, what they did to Saix…”

Ienzo’s voice trailed off, lips wavering as he couldn’t bring himself to describe it more than that. But after a steadying breath, he continued. “...all that to say, over time, we came to greater and greater understanding of just who our Nobodies had become.”

“But our constructs weren’t supposed to be like that,” Zexion said flatly, observing the cloudy edges of the memory where Maki’s mind hadn’t bothered to fill anything in. “Perhaps just a repeat of the mistake the older Empaths had with the original Nobody concept, admittedly. But every construct was supposed to be interchangeable with us. More or less indistinguishable, all for the purpose of allowing us to do more simultaneously. Basically automatons than any of us could switch to at any time.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Ienzo said quietly, holding his Lexicon to his chest. “We’ve been getting all their memories back. I only think not at once, since…what, something along the lines of…1500 years of memories is understandably a little overwhelming. But all those memories are…distinct. Of distinct people. Who are still me, but…”

“Just a little different,” Zexion finished, just as quiet. “And now they’re all a part of us again. So not dead, necessarily, but they will never experience anything different from what we do.”

“Except for 14,” Ienzo amended.

OoO why not 14?

OoO wasn’t he just reabsorbed too?

Zexion noticeably tensed, though Ienzo just shook his head, sad. 

“By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense,” he said softly. “The only one of us who even came close to being able to destroy a Nobody is Namine, but even if we hadn’t been able to restore Xion at the time, and barely got Sora his mind back…Xion’s here now. There was still enough of her left for Lauriam to find her and Roxas, and for Sora to bring them back. That’s the power of the strongest among us, and Axel isn’t a close last.”

Looking discomforted, Ienzo ran his fingers down the side of his book. “But after he was eaten, 14 wasn’t just booted from Axel’s mind, wasn’t just reintegrated like the others before him. There’s just…nothing left. He’s gone.”

“I didn’t think it would kill him.”

Ienzo’s eyes snapped up, unused to the strangled tone in Zexion’s voice, and to his horror, he saw blue eyes starting to swim. 

Maki wondered what it meant, for a piece of your mind to truly, actually get destroyed.

But then, Ienzo’s mind was a complicated mess even at its most healthy. Maki unsurprised when she saw tears start to well up in Zexion’s eyes. Once a crybaby, always a crybaby. 

Though… she understood the grief of committing an evil you couldn’t take back. “...it’s hard. Living with the consequences of hurting someone. Especially the permanent harm of death.”

“Kaito asked me once, if I took comfort in knowing that my victims went to an afterlife. To their trials,” Maki recalled, “He’s deeply religious. Always has been. He asked me that in a time where I didn’t really believe that was the case. That my victims were like yours. Gone. Permanently. No catharsis, no chance to reflect, no hope for anything new. Just gone.”

“I don’t know how I feel about the idea of an afterlife now. I still took something from people they can never have back, even if it is true… but at the time? I knew there was no workaround to ease the guilt. Nothing I could say to myself that would make it better. I made their last moments abrupt and violent, and then they were gone. And you have to just accept that that was true. And that’s all you have. Acceptance and moving on.” Maki frowned. “...it’s unfair. But it’s still true.”

Zexion allowed Ienzo to hold his hand, but he didn’t follow the pull to sit with them. He remained crouched, looking away as he tried to control his breathing, frustratedly wiping his eyes after a moment. 

There was nothing they could do for 14. Nothing to change the fact that Zexion had forced him to take his place in Volvagia’s mouth after deliberately antagonizing his brother, which led to 14’s complete destruction. There was nothing to do about 13 and 8’s genuine, heart-wrenching grief. About the fact that Zexion had over and over sacrificed the others as just tools in a fight as he desperately tried to protect Ienzo and keep him in the prison of grief that was killing him. 

Nothing to do but move forward.

Zexion huffed with grim humor. “...New Normal.”

Ienzo shook his head a little before managing to give Maki a small smile. “You’ve always been a pragmatic optimist. Or an optimistic pragmatist. I’m not sure which one is better suited.”

“There’s always a way forward. Giving up isn’t pragmatic. It’s just giving up,” Maki said, a hundred conversations with Shuichi coming to mind… but curiosity made her look to Zexion. “New normal?”

There were certain things that came to mind that would have Ienzo begging to differ, but…well, he hadn’t necessarily given up, had he. Though, as Maki followed up on the comment, Ienzo gave a small, embarrassed huff. 

And Zexion lightly smirked. “If you’re going through the memories of that summer, I wonder if you would’ve come across it regardless; it’s a poem Ienzo started upon internalizing his life in the factory and seeing what happened to you and Shuuichi.”

Smirking a little more as Ienzo started to flush, Zexion summoned his copy of the Lexicon and turned it to show Maki a page.

It’s time

Step out into the New Normal

Embrace the day with your new shape

Goodbye to those who cannot join us

Their voices are still heard in every word that we say

As we blend into New Normal

Familiar path, different lanes

You’ve donned yesterday’s smile

To decorate your new face

“Artists,” Maki sighed, rolling her eyes a little. Reading it over. “...the man who brought you to the room. He said ‘two weeks’. Did you start conditioning while Shuichi and I were there?”

That was what Maki asked, but what she was wondering, clearly, was… had Zexion participated in their conditioning?

Trying to calm his embarrassment over someone reading one of his poems--especially one he’d written that early--Ienzo nodded. “Two weeks is the grace training period new Empaths were permitted before our quotas raised. If the new person isn’t able to hack it, then it’s a lot of strain on the rest of us, since we were always pushed to capacity--understanding that, I had a lot of motivation to ensure Zexion and I were ready.”

Zexion looked over Maki for a moment before speaking. “I didn’t condition you or Shuuichi. For one, detective and assassin conditioning was too specific and technical for me to even aid with for my very first trials. But also…I think Dad thought it was too cruel to have me do that to my friends. There was a lot he was willing to ease me into because it was something I’d have to face as a part of life, but you two were unique cases.” His face suddenly went flat. “It wasn’t like I’d end up having to condition people I knew ever again, right?”

Ienzo winced before sighing. “I…did try other things with you, but that might be better explained just by watching it.”

Maki raised an eyebrow at that… before she sighed. Standing up, turning, and heading inside the door.

-

Loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud  loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud  loud loud loud loud

LOUD!

-

Maki was getting quieter, every day. 

Shuichi was too, but it was more noticeable in Maki, and happening in a different way. Where Shuichi was getting quiet out of sheer increasing nerves, getting increasingly afraid to speak up, careful to see who was around to hear when he did speak, Maki’s mind was just… numb. She woke up with a ringing in her head. Unable to think much. Nothing in her to communicate, as she walked through the day dazed and a little confused. Just hearing a ringing in her mind.

The ringing drowned out her anger.

It drowned out her sadness. 

It drowned out her imagination. Her sense of humor. Her concern. Dampening all of her emotions. She was struggling to hold onto her concept of ‘self’. Self-reflection required the ability to think. And she could not think among the ringing. 

“Maki,” Shuichi whispered to her at one point, sniffling as he stared at his soup, “I don’t know why but...I think I want to die.”

“Oh,” Maki said numbly, as her mind rang and rang and rang, “...okay.” She paused. “Good luck with that, I guess.”

-

Maki wandered out of the door, herded out after her session that day. She looked numbly at nothing, her brain ringing from the noise she had been engulfed in for a few hours. She felt tired. 

But she was getting better at the tasks she had to do while the sound broke her thoughts apart. She was getting better at navigating the dances she was forced to do. Letting her body learn and remember what her mind couldn’t comprehend. Letting her body become more intelligent, while her mind went quieter and quieter.

She had never needed to be smart anyway. Who cared…

He found them in one of the treehouses, Shuuichi carving into the wall. One drawing among dozens that Ienzo had noticed, though he’d admit a drawing of a hat was a first. 

He and Zexion had been hard at work. Not just working on their world, but shadowing the other Nobodies, observing conditioning to learn how it worked. Some of them were more willing to answer questions about it than others--Ienzo could admit that while he tried, he didn’t always have the best timing in posing them--but in all he was getting a clearer and clearer picture of it every day. 

Including the fact that none of them knew how to undo it. 

Seeing the tired, quiet, numbness that had taken over his friends, Ienzo drew in a soft, shaky breath, before getting their attention with a soft, “...hey.”

Maki had been numbly watching Shuichi graffiti the wall, the two looking up at the small, soft greeting… and Maki’s brow furrowed in dazed confusion. She should feel… surprised or something. Something. What should she feel? It was at the tip of her tongue–

“Ienzo!” Shuichi gasped, sitting up straight and giving the boy a nervous, concerned look as he adjusted his hat, “What are you doing here!? We thought you escaped!”

“No, I… I saw him… I saw you,” Maki recalled numbly, frowning at Ienzo, “...didn’t I?”

…it was painful, hearing Maki talk like that. It wasn’t that she always had every confidence in the world, but she had always been assured in herself. Every step forward was one she put forth into reality. Trailing off like this felt like he was speaking to a ghost of his friend. And even then, he felt like a ghost would be more annoyed. 

Ienzo gave Maki a nod before he came over to the two of them, sitting down. “It’d be a nice thought, wouldn’t it? I’m sorry if talking to you guys again is more disappointing than holding onto that idea.” He offered a small smile. 

“I’ve the opposite of escaped, honestly,” Ienzo sighed, before he looked at each of his friends, something nervous, but serious in his gaze. “...conditioning isn’t supposed to wear off, like they told us. And no one knows how to undo it. There are going to be a lot of powerful people expecting you two to have it, when you leave here, but…”

In some manners, it was dumb. Dangerous. Ienzo potentially painting targets on the backs of his allies. 

But Maki and Shuuichi were his friends, and how could Ienzo possibly consider the chance to help them dumb?

Taking a breath, Ienzo looked up at his friends with solid determination. “I want to try giving you two loopholes in your conditioning.”

Shuichi frowned, brow furrowing, as he argued, “But conditioning is only supposed to last as long as our contracts do. Then it’s supposed to fade, that’s part of the whole process… n-not… not that I’m arguing with you.” Shuichi suddenly stammered, looking increasingly nervous as he glanced around. Looking pointedly at the walls and floors. “I’m just observing, not… arguing.”

Maki felt like she should be more upset. But it was a mute, distant feeling. Drowned out by the ringing still in her head. “...why would you be able to give us anything, Ienzo? You’re not our trainers.”

Never before had Ienzo wished so much for Shuuichi to get in his face like a big jerk and insist that he knew better. Nerves looked horrible on his friend. Insulting. 

Slowly, Ienzo nodded. “It’s a good observation. You’re good at that, it’s why you’re going to be one of the best detectives in the world.” Even if Ienzo knew more of the truth behind that profession now, at least how it pertained to the conditioning necessary for it…he still gave Shuuichi a small, fiercely confident smile. If Ienzo would never get to be one, then Shuuichi could be the best for the both of them. “It’d be good if you could always observe whatever you wanted, right? Nothing getting by under your nose… And you’re right, that that’s what we were told. But it’s a lie. One that I think a lot of the people in charge believe too.”

Fiddling with his fingers, Ienzo gave Maki a nod too. “I’m not, but I’ve been watching them. Like I said, it’d be monumentally dangerous if I just undid everything they did, and honestly, I don’t know how,” he admitted, not without regret, “But I think I’ve learned enough to tweak a little.”

Just enough that his friends could keep themselves safe in a world that would treat them like high-quality, but ultimately disposable tools.

Shuichi gave Ienzo a small, shaky smile at that, pinking a little at the compliment. He had been made to feel very small and very fallible, ever since he had arrived at the island. His trainer hammering it into his head over and over that while his job was to use his intelligence, it was only useful in how it could serve other people. That he was useless on his own.

A lot of early training was convincing Indentured to stop trusting themselves and their own instincts. It made conditioning easier.

“...I don’t like how empty I feel,” Maki admitted, placing her hand on her chest. A dazed, lost look in her eyes. “I feel like it’s getting harder to care about things. Anything… Can you fix that?”

Ienzo gave Maki a worried look, before he bit his lip. “...I can try.”

Scooting around, Ienzo situated himself between his friends, and held one of his hands out. There was nothing, for a moment, before there was a soft glow and some sparkles, and an enormous--especially in comparison to three young children--book appeared in Ienzo’s lap. Taking a hand each from Maki and Shuuichi, Ienzo placed them on the book before he closed his eyes and concentrated.

(He hadn’t been able to see Mixvaz’ conditioning sessions, and Ienzo had never met Zinxi at all. But when it was the Nobodies’ turn to relax, Mixvaz, assuming he was Zexion in more recent days, was actually quite comfortable talking to him, excitedly showing off the bright, loud dancehall to the newbie. Laughing at how Ienzo had just swayed in confusion at her urges to dance, before showing him a few easy moves. And Inzi seemed very ready to keep an eye on him, never seeming to run out of something to say about how he should expect to act in life.)

(It wasn’t perfect. But it was enough that Ienzo had begun to recognize what Mixvaz and Zinxi’s energy felt like.)

And right now, concentrating on it, he could feel that energy like looping cables in his friends’ minds, not quite bolted into place, but being nudged there bit by bit. 

Maki wanted to feel. Not let conditioning take away her expansive, vibrant emotions, so much of what made her her. So just loosen a tiny bit right here… Allow the love Maki always had to remain. For people to be hers, utterly claimed. For her to feel pride, self-respect. Enough to keep that sense of herself, so that she might demand the world be As Maki Saw It. Enough to still have hope and dreams. Enough to care. 

Feeling Maki like this made Ienzo feel like he was standing in a stream of steam, his hands starting to scald, but he didn’t flinch. Not about to leave his best friend in a state where she wouldn’t even care if someone sent her to her grave. If they’d send her loved ones. 

…he couldn’t help her at all after this. Once she left. Never again. So…this was one last gift to the girl who had looked at him and decided to be kind, expecting nothing back. 

Ienzo had almost expected Shuuichi to be easy, because surely his pride shown as bright and obvious as the sun. But trying to lock down anything felt like trying to grasp at shadows. 

…so, okay, Ienzo would just have to be one too. 

He would not allow people to take away Shuuichi’s mind. His keen curiosity that had been the point of common ground between them. Shuuichi could always look as much as he wanted, and if someone had something to say about it, well…he was a detective. He was just observing. Someone better be real specific if they wanted him to do something. Otherwise, it was up to Shuuichi’s interpretation, and he had no doubt his friend could come up with way more loopholes than Ienzo would be able to. 

Shuuichi’s logic would be king. As he was convinced it always was. And if it made him insufferable…good. Let him be hellfire to the world that would want to eat him up. 

Ienzo let out a shaky breath as the glow from the book faded, and he sagged, tipping over against Maki’s shoulder. 

Maki let out a breath as soon as Ienzo did, almost mindlessly reaching out to catch him as he stumbled. Holding Ienzo to her, dazed, red eyes at first confused… then tinged with pain. The hurt of understanding. Of recognizing her own situation, her own future. The hurt of comprehension…

…and then her eyes hardened. The girl expressing a steel that came not from apathy or being above anything, but from facing a challenge and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that it was going to hurt. It was going to hurt and be stressful and it was going to make Maki want to buckle and run… and that she cared too much not to. That she could never retreat. Never surrender.

She did not have the ability to. Chained by passion. 

“...I’m going to make them all pay, someday,” Maki whispered. Holding Ienzo close. “Everyone who’s trapped us. Everyone who’s hurt us… I’m going to save us. I swear it.”

Shuichi gave Maki a tired, nervous look at that… before he warily looked around. “I don’t think those people are here. Not really. I think by design people like us wouldn’t be able to talk to people like them. Sla… Indentured, I mean,” Shuichi said softly.

“I’ll find a way.” Maki said, absolutely certain. “There has to be a way.”

Ienzo felt…tired. The kind of tired that made you feel a bit numb, but he was never one to keep his mouth shut. 

“...there’s an idea that power to rule is given by the consent of the masses,” he softly mumbled, almost able to feel soft sunlight coming through windows, bouncing off assembled skeletons of creatures he’d barely be able to imagine, “not by divine right. That’s not how the Momotas rule…but it’s not entirely inaccurate. One family can’t fight against an entire nation.” 

Ienzo’s head drooped more. “...it’s just convincing people they want to fight is the hard part.”

Maki frowned. “Convincing people…” 

…after a moment she pouted. Puffing out her cheeks. Before she looked at Shuichi. “You’re manipulative–”

“Rude.”

“--how would you do it?” Maki asked Shuichi, “If you could? What would you do?”

“...” Shuichi looked around warily again. Afraid of being seen. Afraid of being heard. Afraid of the monsters coming from the shadows again, coming to hurt him… but he whispered, “...focus on people who already have the power to achieve what you want. Turning people on them. Using them. Making them say what you want them to say… but that’s just how I’d do it. I don’t think that’s how you’d do it.”

“How would I do it?” Maki asked.

Shuichi shrugged. “The way you did it our first day. By just… being who other people want to be,” Shuichi smiled tiredly, “Being a symbol. An ideal. One that other people want to live up to.”

“... I can’t do that,” Maki frowned, “I’m going to cut off the king's head instead.”

“Uuuuuuh, no???”

“Yes.”

“Ienzo, tell her no.”

“Ienzo, tell Shuichi I’m going to cut off the king's head. It’ll be easier than what you both just said.”

“You’re not big enough to cut off anyone’s head!”

“I’ll be older when I do it,” Maki said, “That’ll solve everything.”

There was a small sniffle, tears falling down Ienzo’s cheeks. 

“Cutting off the king’s head will just move the succession to an heir, likely with similar ideals, who will be motivated to mark you, and any allied or similar to you as national enemies. It’d be easier, but just changing whose mouth is saying the laws that hurt people.”

“...I’m gonna miss you guys s-so much…”

Older Ienzo facepalmed, flushing lightly. Of course he cried during this conversation. He’d never escape the allegations.

Maki watched, amused, as her younger self argued that she’d just kill the next king too. Shuichi arguing that eventually Maki would have to just kill the entire royal family with that mindset, and young Maki nodding determinedly, like that was the obvious choice.

“...you both were right,” Maki said, leaning against the wall, peering out the window, to the ocean horizon, “It didn’t work. I wasn’t even the one who got to cut off the king's head. But you were right…it just went to another Momota. It barely changed anything.”

“That’s what I learned, fighting for so long, sacrificing so much… when you stop and look back at it? None of it was enough,” Maki said tiredly, the ocean breeze nice. The island really was beautiful. “Not even close. You’re just… stuck with the same status quo. Trying to measure if you did enough good that it made up for all the harm.”

Ienzo slowly dropped his hand from his face and just stared at Maki for a moment. Before his face twisted in an utterly bewildered expression. 

“...Maki, I have a life now,” Ienzo said, voice holding such a gravity it was impressive he remained upright. “My family is free. I can finally actually free people from conditioning, not having to rely on loopholes that I wasn’t even sure would actually work. The queen is using me as a publicity stunt to save her reputation, yes, but it’s one that relies on people looking at the Indentured Program in disgust and politically motivating them to never allow something like it to exist within living memory. I may be a stunt, but it’s one that’s saying something to the point nobles are scared that an Indentured could have real power, which means a path is being paved for others to have easier fights.”

He took a step towards her, mouth set in a frustrated frown. “You cannot tell me that things are the same when everything in my life has changed. My brother just went to a hospital, we didn’t have to just wait around and hope he’d pull through, or hope to ever see him again if the supervisors took him. That’s a world of difference, and it’s good.”

“...that’s good. And I’m glad I accomplished that,” Maki said gently, giving Ienzo a small smile, “But I wanted so much more. I don’t know what it was supposed to look like. I don’t know who was meant to lead, at the end… I think a part of me was really counting on the idea that I’d die, before I saw the result of everything I did. That my choices would topple what we currently have, and I could go out certain that whatever was built in its place? Would be better. And because I didn’t have to see it? It could be anything.”

“But I’m still here. And there’s still so much left to do. So much left to achieve… and I’m tired. I don’t have anything else in me to give. And I made so many compromises. I made so many selfish choices. Choices that counted… King Byakuya was going to hurt us. So badly. Worse than anything we had seen before. Our people? My people… He was going to send us overseas. Enslave his people not just in our country, but in the world. He was going to triple the Indentured program, make it truly impossible to escape, throw us to the mercies of a world that was accountable to nobody.”

“...I picked Kaito, over us,” Maki said, staring at the three children, “A Momota. When it came time to decide Byakuya’s fate. I wanted Kaito to still love me. I risked everything for that. I sacrificed…”

Maki frowned, looking away. “...I don’t remember.”

Ienzo sighed softly, that moment of passion calming in him. He could…conceptually understand focusing so hard on one problem that you didn’t put much thought into the ‘after’. For him, so much of his work was never ending, a constant cycle of ‘and onto the next project’, that Ienzo never saw a stopping point for himself. But he did understand how exhausting that was. 

His eyes widened, hearing about Byakuya’s plan. A drop in his stomach, on the edge of a yawning horror, realizing what had been so close to happening…

Not quick, but briefly, he pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you,” his voice shook, “for not letting that happen.”

But Ienzo took a breath as he pulled back. “It might be hypocritical of me, since I did feel a lot of comfort in hearing how Terra took revenge on the supervisors. The most I ever knew about Byakuya Momota was Zexion seeing a glimpse of his portrait they had been taking down in the front of the warehouse. So I know I have the privilege of distance saying…” he shrugged, “he’s no longer in power. He’s exiled. Letting him live doesn’t feel like a sacrifice of ideals, when all the ways he could hurt now are gone. I don’t even know if that’s true for you, but it is my perspective.”

“And it’s an exceedingly rare story that ever delves into what comes after,” Ienzo smiled softly, “It’s always slay the monster. Depose the king. Win the competition. Because the ‘after’, all of the growth and repair and change needed in the everyday actions of life is hard, and rarely has a neat narrative to explore. Living is difficult. It’s…incredibly difficult.” 

Ienzo let out a stressed little noise, before he gave Maki a soft look. “...but it is more than enough. You don’t have to give anything else, Maki. You’ve already given so many people the world.” A small smile turned up his lips. “You’re kind of being a jerk, never letting any of us catch up to repay you. Giving us a few decades of never doing anything else would be a small start, you know.”

Though, his smile faded into confusion at her last words. “...what do you mean by that? You don’t remember what you sacrificed…the revolution? For it?”

Maki startled a little, at the hug… but she relaxed into it. Placing her hand on Ienzo’s back as she enjoyed his warmth. Projection of warmth. Whatever, it felt real enough for her.

Little moments like these… they weren’t what made it all ‘worth it’. But they helped the pain. More than Ienzo could probably ever guess.

“I don’t know,” Maki admitted, letting Ienzo go when he stepped back, “The thing is, when I made that decision? Byakuya was defeated. It was a choice that, in theory, was only a mercy to Kaito. Not a sacrifice. I wouldn’t murder his brother, his cousin would be queen… his family not entirely destroyed. If I had killed Byakuya and only Kaede lived? I think Kaito would have felt a responsibility to get revenge. Their parents were killed by Byakuya, Byakuya was losing his power, that was technically its own sort of revenge, without more loss. I don’t think Kaito would have ever done anything about it, but sparing Byakuya and leaving him to bear the responsibility of their parents would have spared Kaito the agony of trying to decide who deserved his vengeance. I made that choice to save him. And to ensure he loved me.”

“...but that’s not how I remember it feeling,” Maki frowned, “It didn’t feel like a simple act of mercy to spare someone I cared about some grief and guilt. It felt like sacrifice. Like I picked Kaito over other people. But it wasn’t. I had already… made the choice to withhold food. From the famine. Sparing Byakuya had nothing to do with that. It was unrelated.”

“...but something about that feels like a lie,” Maki whispered, “And I don’t remember why.”

Ienzo frowned lightly, tapping his chin as Maki explained herself. An act that, yeah, did just seem like a mercy Maki was able to give. There were people who would want Byakuya dead, undoubtedly, and likely some within the decision-makers of the revolution. Perhaps some had given up that type of vengeance out of respect for Maki once she made her own decision, but that was still a choice that they made. By all accounts, Maki sparing him from her own hand didn’t sound like a sacrifice at all, other than her own wishes for his death, but which then she had prioritised her feelings for Kaito over.

But it didn’t feel like that to her. A disconnect between feelings and knowledge. 

“...Amaina,” Ienzo called, his tapping pausing as he glanced over to the Chibi, “Do you think we would be able to return to this memory more easily if we took a detour for a moment?”

Neither of them had asked Amaina to engage in the conversation before this moment, because in the background, throughout the entire somber, earnest conversation… Amaina was still dancing from having explored the dance club torture chamber memory. Just too in the groove to stop! The music had been POPPING!

But being directly talked to, Amaina stopped dancing in her own personal disco rave, popping up her sunglasses as she gave them a curious look.

OoO yeah no doubt

O.O I mean most of your memories should already be coming back

OOO BECAUSE OF THE CHAIN

OoO it’s just following the thread by this point super easy basic shit

“Thank you,” Ienzo said, giving her a grateful nod. 

Before he turned back to Maki. “I doubt that if there is a hidden memory to find that would explain your feelings, it would be as hidden as what Viz and Namine could do, so I’d likely be able to find it myself. Would you allow me to search through your memories?”

{It’s not like watching it all in sequence, like Amaina-chan does,} the disembodied intent of Zexion (who had left after calming Ienzo down, still in the midst of keeping an eye on Mariam) rang out around them, {We rapidly compress memories into books, like making a copy with a printing press. If there’s anything odd, we should be able to find it without looking at anything else.}

Maki looked Zexion over. She was, blatantly, sizing him up. Trying to guess if he would be able to follow through on what he was offering. Trying to guess if she wanted him to possibly know what she was trying to figure out…

…and maybe she was trying to give herself an excuse to say no. 

Pathetic.

“Sure.” Maki said, nodding curtly, forcing herself to not think about it more than accepting, “What do I have to do?”

Ienzo smiled faintly. “Not panic, mostly.”

Holding his Lexicon in one hand, he reached out towards Maki with his other, palm out. The pose wasn’t exactly necessary, but it helped him focus, just like any gesture in the mindscape. And as he did, the Lexicon started to glow, pages floating up and flipping around, and as he felt out for her mind, a now directly familiar sensation came over him. That hot, nearly burning blast of air, gusting back at him to scald, to warn off, to…

As much as it tended to be his method, Ienzo wasn’t looking through all of Maki’s memories. He was no longer kept from experiencing the world himself, so while it was still tempting to see it entirely from another person’s perspective, he didn’t need to. And he figured his childhood friend would appreciate keeping her privacy. So, it was with finesse that Ienzo sent out his energy into tracking down anything related to the end of the civil war, the famine, and Byakuya’s fate.

With the sound of flipping pages, a new book appeared, words rapidly appearing as pages were added…but after a moment, Ienzo’s eyebrows scrunched, and another book appeared in the same way. He murmured softly, “But that’s… Who would…?”

O.O

OoO;; what?

OOO;; WHO WOULD WHAT!??

“Don’t be impatient,” Maki said, though there was a clear tension in her own face as well, glancing first at the book, then Ienzo, then the book again, “...but you don’t be cagey either. Who would what?”

Ienzo could only mumble, “One sec…”, his expression still focused, before both new books snapped shut and his Lexicon stilled. Ienzo let out a small breath, overly casually bringing his hand back to surreptitiously soothe the reddened skin. 

But he wasn’t focused on that as he gave Maki a small frown. “The reason why you don’t remember, I figure, anyway, is because you have related memories from the end of the war that weren’t in your surface consciousness. I have to assume there are other ways that can happen, but, obviously, I’m most familiar with that occurring as a result of an Empath communicating with you without supporting your consciousness.”

Squatting briefly, Ienzo gathered the new books and handed them to Maki. Giving her a small nod to look through them.

Maki stared at the books… before taking them. Looking warily down at the covers. “So I just… read this?”

It was what she asked, but what she heard was that… the memory she was looking for was buried because of empath interference? Or, not being ‘supported’ by an empath in a way that would allow her to remember. Or…

Did it matter? An empath had been involved. With the war. With the famine. With the thing that had been haunting Maki for a year now.

… Tengan. 

But as Maki opened up the first book–not noticing the colors of the leather bound tome suddenly grow brighter in color, the lines on the pages glowing as Amaina suddenly disappeared–what popped out of the book was not the name of the cruel empath Head Secretary. No, what popped out of the book was a little, slit-eyed Kokichi… literally. 

Amaina, dressed as Kokichi, jumped from and flowed through the book. Spinning in place as the rainbow glow of the text followed behind her, then around her, creating a whirlwind of color that engulfed Maki’s whole vision, as music distantly echoed.

-

A child Maki sat cross-legged next to a child Ienzo, staring up at what could only be called a…child's drawing. And a stage. And a world. 

In the immediate surroundings, was a green and pleasant meadow. 

In the distance, was a mountain that Maki knew wasn’t one. 

On the stage, Amaina-Chan, now dressed as a small Maki, gave a little bow, before gesturing to her right, where a Zexion suddenly appeared. “Lady and Gentleman!” Amaina said, “For tonights revelations! Your actors! Amaina-Chan and Zexion-Chan!”

“Amaina,” Maki said, her childish face only dampening her glare a little, “What are you doing?”

“My best!” Amaina said cheerfully, only sweating a little, “To not make a big, big, big hungry Dragon!! Very!! Upset!!!!”

“...I’m not a dragon.” Maki said.

“Sure!!! Hold onto that!”

Mostly unphased by the staging, Ienzo was more preoccupied thinking about what Amaina meant by turning into Kokichi. Obviously it had crossed his mind, since Kokichi was the Empath Maki was most involved in, but…why would Kokichi hide what seemed like an incredibly important memory? Their entire first meeting with the Dicean prince had been on the basis of him advocating for Maki and Shuuichi’s autonomy when it came to their minds. Something like that just…didn’t fit with everything he knew about the prince. Sure, Ienzo didn’t know the man incredibly well, so there could always be a side of him that could do something like this, but…

On stage with Amaina, Zexion sighed, looking a bit distastefully at the brightly colored, Kokichi-coded resort wear he was wearing. 

ㅍnㅍ …or Maki could just read what happened? What’s wrong with that?

“I DO NOT WANT TO BE EATEN.” Amaina sang a tad too loudly, sweating some more, as she spun in place, “So let’s present it in a fun and disarming way!”

“I’m not going to eat you–”

RUMBLE

All four of them glanced back at the mountain in the distance. Three pairs of eyes then turned to Maki, who pouted. 

“....that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going to eat anyone.” Maki said, “Else.”

“Such fun! Let’s start the story!” Amaina said, before looking around, “I need more actors… BE RIGHT BACK!!”

-

Amaina popped into Kokichi’s head.

OOO EMERGENCY EMERGENCY

OoO I need to borrow Chibi Kaito and Chibi Kokichi

“AMAINA-CHAN WHAT THE FUCK!?” Kaito, who was also hanging out in Kokichi’s head, shouted as he threw himself off of Kokichi.

O.O

OoO the big one too

-

A somewhat bewildered Chibi Kokichi and Chibi Kaito suddenly also appeared on the stage, while Kaito and Kokichi both suddenly landed next to Maki and Ienzo– “Woah!” Kaito gasped, looking over Maki, “Maki-roll! You’re small and cute! Why are you…”

Kaito looked down at his husband, then at Ienzo as well… before looking back to Amaina, “Why am I the only one who’s not a kid?”

OoO I NEED A DRAGON

“What. Is. Happening?” Maki asked tensely. Another rumble in the distance.

It was Ienzo’s turn to pout. “Books are fun. And they’re not alarming in the slightest, for all the emotions they can provoke. One of the benefits is being able to read at your own pace.”

Though, as he grumbled, he could only lift his eyebrows in surprise as Amaina collected the princes and their Chibi counterparts. And having similar questions to Maki, he blinked at the kid-ified Dicean Prince.

“Kokichi, did you speak on important matters to a memory of Maki, pertaining to the end of the civil war?”

Kokichi had been…stressed. 

He understood why Kaito was so pissed. Honestly Kokichi was too. Lauriam and Marluxia being attacked to a near lethal extent was horrifying and unacceptable, for anyone really, but especially for people Kokichi had promised safety for. Sure, he couldn’t promise that the Luminary Empaths would never encounter harm or strife again, but he had promised that it would never come from an institutional level in Dicea. Being attacked wasn’t that, but…

…it sort of was. Kokichi had failed the Empaths. And he had failed the demons too. Talking with Dr. Mariah, talking briefly with some of the group that had been willing or conscious to take visitors at all… Some of his people had been starving. And there had been no reprieve for them. No solution. His people fundamentally failed to the point they acted out in desperation and had greatly harmed someone else just to survive. 

It was unacceptable. 

It was unacceptable for Doppio and Mike to have been abused, and that abuse allowed to continue because of societal secrecy. Mike having no one to reach out to, a village relying on their country as a last resort. Doppio having a fundamental crisis of existence because there was no support system for him. The scars of a generational genocide frightening his people, leaving families fractured, putting his people in danger. A cult taking hold and trafficking his people across the border, actual support being created on a fluke. 

So many of his people having to keep quiet about their hurt and needs out of fear and an acceptance that the only help they’d ever receive would come from themselves. 

It was unacceptable. And something needed to change. 

So, yeah, he was stressed. Talking (and, er, more than talking) things out with Kaito had…well, on one hand he did just want to make up with his husband, but he’d hoped that doing so would help with some of that stress. He was amenable to helping Amaina out with a project too, but…

Kokichi’s eyes widened before his shoulders slumped with guilt, though he gave Maki a soft smile. “It’s time for it, huh? You can be mad at me, Maki-chan, I understand, but you just… It never seemed like a good time to bring up. But I guess that’s now.”

Looking more guilty, he asked, “You know how I said I visited you on your birthday last year, wanting to help with your conditioning, but we found out you don’t need anyone else helping with that?”

Maki was still giving Amaina a deathglare. Why were Kaito and Kokichi here? She hadn’t agreed to a literal audience to what Amaina was suggesting was going to be a potentially meltdown worthy memory. Not that Maki was going to meltdown, and even if she was going to, it wasn’t going to affect the Dragon at all. Amaina’s fears were baseless, and what she had chosen to do based on those fears?? What the hell.

But Maki’s eyes flickered to Kokichi–or, the thin, bug-eyed child she could now reasonably assume was Kokichi–as he gave her a stressed, guilty look. “My birthday…?”

Maki remembered, somewhat, Kokichi talking about it. But not what had actually happened. Because Kokichi had been talking to a… memory of herself trapped inside… not her surface…

Kaito crossed his arms, looking sternly around the strange environment. “Where actually are we?”

OoO Maki’s mind

Kaito frowned, looking at the colorful, cheerful drawing aspects of the environment. The sky looked like it was filled in clumsily by crayon. The sun had a smiley face.

“Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.” Kaito said.

OoO everyone’s got an inner child man don’t know what to tell ya

Kaito looked in the distance. While there was still some ‘childish’ aspect to it, there was a distant mountain that looked slightly more real than everything else. It had a slightly odd coloring. It looked like the red sand that Kokichi had helped build the shrine with… “Maki, is that you?” Kaito asked, pointing to the mountain.

“That’s the dragon.” Maki said stiffly.

“Right.” Kaito frowned, tilting his head slightly, staring at the distant mountain as he crossed his arms, “...that’s very hot. Can I go touch it?”

Maki sighed, “Kaito, what are you even doing here? Aren’t you and Kokichi in the middle of some fight? I thought Shuichi was dealing with you right now.”

“Rude. Kokichi and I are trying to talk things out right now… I maybe distracted us a little.” Kaito frowned. How was he supposed to help himself!? It wasn’t his fault his husband being pissed was sometimes kind of hot! God he was pent up! “But I’m here because Amaina said she needed our help with something. I didn’t realize it was with you. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. Seems like only Amaina and Kokichi know.” Maki said dryly, “Ienzo too now, I suppose. I am very rapidly becoming the last person to know if I’m okay or not.”

“Heh. Yeah.” Kaito chuckled. Good times… “What’s this about me playing the dragon?”

Amaina pointed at him, and before Kaito could ask anything else, he was suddenly wearing a very baggy, but very comfortable looking, red dragon onesie. Kaito looked down at his ‘pawed’ gloves and then behind himself at the stuffed fabric tail lined up behind him on the floor. “...okay, but I need a baby-version of this, Miyako would look amazing in this. Babe! If you commission this outfit in baby form from Denji, I will be slightly less pissed at you!”

Kokichi nodded in confirmation, meaning to explain more from that, but Kaito cut in. And as annoyed as Kokichi was, what Kaito brought up was a little more important to address first. Maki’s brain was hers, after all. Because…

Ienzo pouted, the expression reading more on his child-self’s face. “I could know, that’s an important distinction, but I don’t yet, because you should be the first to read your own memories. I could just feel where they were, as a necessity to find them in the first place.”

Watching Kaito’s new outfit, Kokichi huffed a little. “...I will, but not for that reason. You know legal vengeance doesn’t work like that here, and they’re already in the hospital! I’m not going to--” Kokichi cut himself off, not willing to get back into it here, and especially in front of Lauriam and Marluxia’s family, “--nevermind.”

Lines growing under his eyes, he gave Amaina a tired, stressed look. “...Amaina-chan, why would the dragon be pissed to know something she already knows? Maki-chan’s emotions don’t usually spur any power bursts. I’m not saying to handle the story tactlessly, that’s why I’ve never gotten into it before, but…”

Kokichi scrubbed a hand through his hair, turning to Maki. “I didn’t go that deep into it. I am sorry, but I think we can both be honest about the situations we were both in at the time. Remember I told you guys I met with Bathul, once? The god of death and trade…” Kokichi looked more stressed out. “You made a trade with him, Maki-chan, and getting your dragon memories back was what you traded. You got to ask something of him, for him to get that.”

“I made a trade with Bathul… for my–or, for it’s–her… for the dragon's memories?” Maki frowned, “The ones that could potentially erase me? I bargained to let that happen?”

“No, I remember this. You felt confident it wouldn’t affect you.” Kaito pointed out.

“I felt confidence, yes, but that was the version of me living in that moment. Who clearly at that point knew something I didn’t,” Maki frowned, “The version of me now, who didn’t experience that? I don’t feel confident about that at all. There’s a giant, ancient, mythical mountain in my brain waiting to erase me. Sometimes it feels like I’m waiting for some tumor in my head to pop and kill me any day now.”

“I don’t think that’s how tumors work.” Kaito said.

“That’s not the point. The point is, she knew something that I… she knew…” Maki frowned, “...what did she know?”

O.O

OOO;; AND NOOOOW TO PRESENT A MEMORY WITHOUT WAKING UP A BIG SCARY AMAINA-EATING ANCIENT GOD

OvO;; Amaina-Chan’s Chibi Theater Company proudly presents

OoO The Last Dragon of Luminary: A Prologue

O.O

OOO YOU MAY APPLAUD

Kaito gamely clapped with his padded dragon paws, before gasping, scrambling onto the stage when Amaina sternly waved him over, “Sorry, sorry, forgot, I’m the dragon.” getting on just a giant red curtain closed. 

A stagelight turned onto the stage–beaming out from the smiling sun–and Chibi Kokichi was on the stage, with three colorful, oval shaped balls clearly recently just shoved into his arms, all slightly too big to carry easily as Amaina said in the background:

Once upon a time! There was a war against the dragons!

Chibi Kaito was pushed out of the curtains with a tiny spear, and after looking over his shoulder for stage directions from behind the curtain, put on a false, angry face as he sang out little war notes, jabbing the spear near the air around Chibi Kokichi.

And the war was so epic that every dragon fell, and their nests destroyed! First fell the–

“Storms.” Maki whispered. Suddenly barely able to see the stage, as somewhere, the mountain rumbled.

-

The Storm Dragons were on average smaller, yes, but she had thought they’d be impossibly high and fast for the humans to ever truly threaten. As quick as the lightning that danced on their scales and gifted them lift, their movements covered by the clouds that their wings grouped and shifted around them, the Storms were bound to no land and no people, and should have been impossible to catch.

And yet… she heard, in distant lands, their dying wails. Not cries for help. Dragons did not call for help. Warnings: I have fallen. There is something strong enough to kill dragons out here. Beware. Prepare. One of us has fallen, and all are in danger.

The Storm Dragons had fallen.

They were the first sign that the war of the Flora had truly begun.

-

And then fell the Arctic Dragons! And then the Desert Dragons! All but one remained, an ancient Red Dragon, bigger and stronger than all the others, the size of a mountain and as old as time! 

“Really?” Kaito asked, stepping in front of the stage, looking impressed… before he winced, “Ouch! Hey!?” he frowned, looking down at Chibi Kokichi and Chibi Kaito, who were now all poking him with spears, “This is literally a dream, did you have to make it hurt? Ow! Kokichi, control your chibis! Ow!”

But the ancient dragon was full of despair, for even if she won her battles, she could no longer bear eggs, and dragon-kind would die with her. All seemed lost, but then!

Amaina pushed Zexion out, who was wearing a hood and holding a scythe.

Death came and offered a deal! The hope for dragon-kind, in exchange for her–

‘Soul.’ something inside of Maki rumbled, ‘With no mercy of death.’

-

“I will own your soul.” The god explained, his tone cold. Matter of fact. “You will not die. You will not live. I will keep you, and when the time is right? Will unleash you like a great blaze through the universe. And in that blaze you will restore balance. Not as a dragon, but as a force of terrible and certain destruction.’

“To save my kind from Flora… you would turn me into what the Flora claim I am?” a dark, bitter rumble as the mountain laughed, “You misunderstand my nature. I have lived long enough to understand the value of death. I would not give up my soul for petty vengeance.”

“I am not offering vengeance,” Death said, holding out in his hands three oval shapes that rapidly became The Mountain's whole world, “I offer life.”

-

Kaito looked curiously at the three eggs he had been given to hold. “Eggs, huh… dragon eggs?”

No interruptions from the cast! In exchange for offering herself as a weapon to Death, to be used as a ready-force of great destruction at his will, Death had saved three eggs from the fallen dragons nests. The Ancient Red Dragon, seeing those, agreed to his deal. But first she had to do two things! She had to find people she could trust to hide the eggs. And she had to–

‘Die,’ Maki rumbled. ‘Though, to suggest I had a choice is laughable. They were so well organized…’

-

The Mountain–the Dragon–Ancient Red–The Last Dragon of Luminary

Whatever title you wanted to use?

She was dying. 

She had known she was going to. Before even the deal with death, she had known the war was coming to her. Dragons were not indestructible, though now she knew too many of her own brethren had believed in their own myths. Dragons were not gods. They were not, truly, the weather, or the geography. They were another being living in the lands, and all dragons that did not understand that the other inhabitants of that land needed to allow them to exist there… had all recently found this out at the end of terrible arrows and striking blades.

Flora were clever. She had done all she could, but even her own people were going to turn against her. And they who knew her best would know how most efficiently to kill her.

And she was dying.

She would die, and she would become… less. A weapon for a god to use to restore balance. Against the Flora someday, yes, but the deal hadn’t been for that. She was going to belong to Death. To create balance in the way he knew best. An immediate force of destruction that would wipe out thousands at any point in history, as needed. A terrible Act Of God.

She did not know how exactly he would utilize her, but she suspected she truly would be weather, someday. The potential of her energy used to create disasters.

She had made the deal for her eggs, but she was allowed some bitter regret. What a way to be brought low. Plants wanting to take over the world. Gods wanting easy weapons. Her life, in all its grand and ancient majesty, ending as a slave… pathetic…

But as she lay dying, someone sat on her snout, and smiled charmingly at her. A human, but somehow incredibly alluring. 

“Hold onto that thought.” said the beautiful human, carefully, gently, reaching into her, “And I’ll use that thought to give her strength.”

“Who strength?” The Mountain thought, as her vision started to blur.

“You’re incredible,” said the little godling, wrapping his hand around something inside of her, “Strong, responsible, devoted, incredibly sexy… your heir will have all of your best traits. They’ll follow her to the ends of the Earth.”

“Heir?” The Mountain rumbled.

“Three eggs, and your own heir.” The Godling whispered, “That seems more fair a trade. Your present for the future. Your future for her destiny.”

“My destiny?” Maki rumbled.

The Godling looked up and smiled warmly at her. “...not yet.” He whispered to her, “You can punch me when you’re ready. I stole your life from you… but not yet.”

“I love you very much.”

-

Maki opened her eyes, and for a moment, she felt calm. Like she understood herself entirely. Understood her place in the universe, and what that actually meant. Understood herself and the dragon. Understood the parts of herself that were made from the dragon, and why those parts did not, as a whole, equal her. 

For a moment, Maki understood it all… and then the memories drained out of her. Too much, too all encompassing. The Dragon too big to fit inside of her, not all at once like that, not truly. 

The memories faded away, only left with a whispering feeling that Maki would, someday, truly be okay. That whatever was at the end of this road? Was something she could handle. Because she was Maki Harukawa. 

But as the memories she wasn’t ready for melted like ink into water… what they left behind was more distressing. And clear. Even before Amaina could announce Time For Act Two!! The Famine–

“Be quiet.” Maki said, staring at the stage Kaito as the Dragon had just started juggling the three eggs for the chibis, the man faltering as he realized the atmosphere had suddenly shifted from relaxed and playful to something else, as Maki said, “I already know. Don’t put my greatest sin on stage as a literal damn performance.”

“Maki?” Kaito asked, giving his friend a concerned look, “Are you okay–”

“I started the famine.” Maki said, staring blankly at nothing, “I traded thousands of peoples lives for your shitty love. It wasn’t worth it.”

And then Maki forced herself to wake up.

Ienzo, back to his usual form, went still, eyes wide…before he glanced to the places where Maki’s books once were. Gone with her. Books could always be lent out, but ultimately, they belonged to the library once they were made. He wasn’t really sure if it’d work, but he tried not to do that with these ones. Things his friend said gave her this lingering sense of regret and dread…

She…had…

Ienzo looked over to the princes, seeing Kokichi standing still with his eyes closed, a sense of…almost resignation on him. 

And Kokichi took a breath. “...she does now, but I’m not sure if she really means that, ultimately,” he said quietly to Kaito. Mouth set in a line, but not strained. “But processing something like this… It’s the reason I hadn’t told her yet. I’m gonna go leave Maki-chan a note, but I think we should let her have her feelings to herself for a little bit, hun.”

“You knew,” Ienzo murmured, not really a question, and not accusatory. “You knew that there was about to be a famine and…”

“Please don’t say something like I ‘just let her do it’,” Kokichi huffed something almost like a laugh. “I don’t ‘let’ Maki-chan do anything, her decisions are her own. I only asked her if they were the ones she truly wanted, and let her know that no matter what, she still has space with us.”

Ienzo just shook his head for a moment, muttering a quiet, “What the actual fuck.”

His childhood friend wasn’t just a sort of dragon, she was a god-destined piece of a dragon with fate and quests and… And gods were fucking real. What the fuck.

O.O

OoO Wooooow not even a thank you for a super cool performance

O.O

OoO and for not letting her accidentally remember herself into DRAGON OBLIVION

O.O Rude.

(•﹏•;)🎶??

OoO I mean we haven’t been pushed out forcibly so it should be fine

O.O;; unless she’s keeping us around for a snack.

“Maki’s not going to eat anyone.” Kaito mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. Trying to process what Maki just said himself. “...she started the famine? For me? How did she… how is that even possible?”

OoO did you not catch all the cosmic deal foreshadowing stuff the first act was putting down??

Kaito ignored Amaina, just looking around uncomfortably… before he sighed. Pushing back the dragon hoodie and looking over at Ienzo, the ‘what the actual fuck’ catching his attention. “Uuuuuh, I feel like you just had a lot of ‘reality’ stuff just crash over your head all at once. Um… are you okay? It’s alright if you’re not. I wasn’t when this happened to me.”

Zexion was just sitting on the stage, processing in the same sort of way Ienzo was, though he did pipe up to his fellow Chibis.

O_O We’re not solidly in Maki’s mind. This is still the tied confluence of Ienzo and Maki’s mind that you put together, Amaina, if you forgot. 

O_O;;; Though I have no fucking clue how…how she might be able to affect her side of the ‘tether’. It’d likely be beneficial to return more solidly to the island soon.

Kokichi gave Kaito a soft look, patting Kaito’s back and murmuring, “I can explain more later, if you want,” before he gave Ienzo a similarly concerned look. 

And for his part, Ienzo just held his hands up uselessly, letting out an indeterminable sound of ‘whuh???’ Muttering after a moment, “There’s so much research I have to do after this. Basically have to reread everything I’ve ever laid eyes on. Demyx is going to be so exasperated.”

…what was he going to tell the others? In their mix-match group of faith. Sure, maybe it didn’t functionally change anything, but it theoretically changed everything and there was so much Ienzo would need to reevaluate and he didn’t have the time. He needed forty, sixty, another hundred of him to even--

“Don’t.” Zexion said warningly, glaring fiercely at Ienzo, even if he looked a little unsteady on his feet himself. “There’s a lot to do, but we need to focus on what’s pertinent now. Prep for the case. Helping Luis pack. Checking on Mariam. Everything else can wait.”

“Keeping busy can help.” Kaito agreed, still looking somewhat distracted. “If you need to talk it out with someone, you can always ask one of us too. Or a therapist. Maybe a plant? Someone told me yesterday that talking to plants helps them grow. I think she was trying to get me to stop whining about my fight with you, Kokichi… I feel like I should go talk to Maki-roll, babe. She looked really upset. I can handle a cut or two.”

It didn’t go by Kokichi’s notice how Zexion closed his eyes and slumped his shoulders at the plant advice, nor how Ienzo cringed into himself, or even that they mentioned a name he’d never heard before, but he took a breath to address Kaito first. 

“If you think that’s best, I won’t stop you,” Kokichi said softly, “But I don’t think letting yourself be a punching bag, just because you can take it, is best. It’s a lot to take in--I’ve had the better part of a year to process. She hasn’t had five minutes, and I think we should give her a little time to process without…everything else. But I think we should talk to her soon, yeah.” He smiled wanely. “Or maybe Shuu-chan should.”

Kaito grimaced. He wanted to run to her. Rescue her. Not fail her for the hundredth, thousandth, millionth time…

…and he was a little hurt that she was angry with him. And he wanted to talk it out.

But Kokichi was right. If Maki wanted to talk to anyone right now, it’d be Shuichi. “Alright.”

Chibi Kaito hurried over to Zexion, giving him an uncertain look before reaching out.

(　-_･) っ pat pat pat

Zexion snorted softly, before he looked back at the princes tiredly. Gathering his words for a moment, before he spoke. “...I know you’ve done a great deal for us already, and I don’t mean to accuse that the significance of all that is negligible, or somehow not already above and beyond what even the greatest kindness could be. It feels ungrateful to even think to ask this.”

His shoulders remained low as he looked at the princes plaintively. Ienzo had his face in his hands and didn’t look up. 

“From what it sounds like, it’ll take his injuries some time to heal, so I don’t expect Mariam will be out gallivanting much,” Zexion sighed, “And by this point our family’s already going to keep a close eye on him. But even as much as just noting odd vibes or catching rumors going around…could we ask you to keep an ear out for our brother? If he’s right about Orlette, we already have a dangerous enemy around, and though we’ve been assured his more recent attackers won’t be a problem, Mariam has a knack for making foes.”

The stress lines under Kokichi’s eyes deepened, even as he gave Zexion a small smile. “That’s not an ungrateful request. Honestly, it’s embarrassing how much we’ve had to show, but Dicea’s meant to be a place where everyone can live safely and happily. I’m going to ensure that’s true for your family, Zexion.” There was something very old and very determined in Kokichi’s gaze for a moment, that made the Chibi tense. “I promise.”

…do not get distracted by your husband being hot again. Your friend is in distress and also one of your people is asking for help! Don’t get distracted!

“I’ll ask the castle guards to keep an eye out for a woman with her description. At the very least the castle itself should be a sanctuary.” Kaito frowned, crossing his arms a bit, “I’ll talk to him about if he wants more protection than that, but I’m going to guess he’s gonna decline escorts when he leaves the castle. Most people don’t actually love being actively babysat wherever they go. It tends to be a hard sell.”

Zexion let out a small huff, though he gave the princes a grateful nod. “I can imagine.”

Kokichi nodded a bit, though he gave Zexion a worried look. “We can do that, but… Who is Mariam, exactly?”

Ienzo ran his fingers through his hair, along his scalp. “Lauriam and Marluxia merged, best guess is due to the trauma. He wants to be called Mariam for now, since using the other names makes him feel like we’re talking about him, rather than to him.”

Kokichi’s eyes widened slightly, a small, “Uh oh,” leaving him.

Ienzo nodded into his palms miserably. “I was trying to research it but Demyx pulled me out of the library.”

“Oooh, I thought it was just a nickname or something,” Kaito frowned, “...hey, babe? I know we keep kinda suggesting it, but should I just straight up call Dr. Mariah for an emergency session? For him, I mean.”

“I…think that’d be a good idea,” Kokichi agreed, still trying to grapple with what that meant for, er, Mariam, if his consciousnesses had merged. It…didn’t seem like Ienzo was talking about something that was like what Alter Ego and his shards went through, but it didn’t seem dissimilar either. “I managed to talk with her a bit at the hospital yesterday, but I’ll send her a quick message for the morning.”

Ienzo looked up at that, frowning softly. “At the hospital… If the person you’re talking about was that doctor that found him, Dad’s not exactly pleased with her.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “...but I wanted to ask Maki about the therapist she recommended anyway. Just got a bit sidetracked tonight. I can explain things to him.”

“I feel a little bad recommending her for him right now, since, like, Maki might need some help too… but I think she’d kill me if I called her a therapist.” Kaito admitted, starting to sweat a bit, “She doesn’t like when we decide things like that for her, and more importantly, the way she doesn’t like things will scare me into not springing them on her anyway. Sorry to both of my husbands, but Maki’s the only one not getting medical stuff forced onto her when I think she needs it, because again… she will actually hurt me.”

“...damn, I wish I was talking to her right now.” Kaito muttered, looking to Kokichi, “You send a message to Dr. Mariah, I’ll go fill Shuichi in on what’s going on?”

Kokichi couldn’t help rolling his eyes a little at that, though he gave Kaito’s arm a pat. “If she wants a crisis session, then maybe it’ll be a good thing Dr. Mariah’s already at the castle. Everything will be okay, we just need to listen and take the time to handle everything with the care it deserves.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Kokichi agreed, before giving Ienzo and Zexion a small smile. “It might be too much to ask after all this, but I hope you guys have a goodnight. We’ll be in touch, though I’m sure you’ll hear from your family first.”

And with that, Kokichi pulled himself, his Chibis, and Kaito out from the mindlink, letting them get up to start their tasks.

Ienzo took a deep, deep breath, and looked back at the faded memory behind him. The treehouse, where he had done his best to free his friends from a prison the three of them were just starting to comprehend. Maybe it was a good thing that Maki had brought up her reservations and they moved onto different memories. The ones that came after that, at least on Ienzo’s side…she didn’t need to see those.

“...will you at least try to sleep if you talk to our dads first?” Zexion drawled, offering a hand to pull Ienzo up.

Ienzo took it and rested his head against Zexion’s shoulder for a moment. “...I’ll try. I… I wouldn’t make more constructs of us, actually, again. Not matter how much I want to make a bigger dent in the…fucking ocean of knowledge we’re barely an atom in.”

Zexion sagged. “Gods, really… How ridiculous.”

“Stupid, honestly.”

“Dilan’s going to be insufferable.”

“Ugh.”

-

Ienzo did send a message to his dads, giving them a heads up that the princes were getting a therapist for Mariam to talk to the next day, he wasn’t going to shirk that duty. He knew he wasn’t always the most reliable guy, but Ienzo liked to think he acted when it mattered. And, as promised, he did try to sleep after that. 

He even got a few hours in, so you could call that a miraculous effort. 

But as morning dawned, Ienzo was in a position that Demyx would’ve never seen him in, Ienzo having shoved away the habit by the time they met. 

In the corner of the master bedroom, Ienzo sat in a little ball with his head pressed into the corner and his hands pressed firmly over his ears, quiet, except for forceful, heavy breaths.

“...button?” Demyx called, for a moment confused enough in that haze of just waking that he assumed they were both in danger from something. Demyx looking around for… something? He didn’t know. He didn’t know what kind of danger would make Ienzo heave in the corner. It just felt dangerous.

But there was no danger. Just the fog and confusion of sleep drifting off as his boyfriend–steady, sturdy Ienzo–cringed into a corner like a child frightened by a loud sound.

Demyx pulled himself from the bed, hurrying over in concern when Ienzo didn’t answer him. “Ienzo? Are you throwing up?”

“No,” Ienzo said shortly between breaths, though even that one note sounded a bit petulant. He didn’t elaborate, and simply hunched his shoulders and pressed his hands tighter around his ears. He could hear the staticy, swimmy sound--you know what that is, Ienzo, it’s blood going through the veins and arteries in your ear--but it wasn’t yet loud enough that it drowned everything else out.

“Oh, okay. Small wins!” Demyx smiled uneasily, giving Ienzo’s back a worried stare…

He pouted, before getting onto his knees and then, dramatically, flopping onto the floor. Laying out on the floor just to the side of Ienzo, where he might be able to catch his boyfriend’s eyes. “What’s haaaaappeenniiiiing? Are you okay?”

Ngh. Not enough. 

Ienzo pressed his head more into the wall, scrunching his eyes closed, even if he could envision the exact position Demyx was in. The huffs sounded louder, closer to the wall to bounce sound off of. 

“It’s not fair,” Ienzo clipped, a whine in everything but drawl.

“Yeeeaaaaah,” Demyx sighed, nodding sagely in total agreement, “...what’s not?”

Not even close to enough. Ienzo pressed harder, his shoulder starting to ache and the swimmy sound starting to make his ears ring.

Demyx frowned in concern again, before pouting. Reaching over to poke Ienzo’s ankle. Poke… Poke…

{༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ what’s not fair?}

{IT’S NOT FAIR!!! _'. / ( >▯ <) \`_ .} 

(Even the intent sounded childish in its outrage.)

(Though, it included the accompanying feelings of being overwhelmed, like staring up at the vastness of space and knowing that what you were looking at were actual things, entities all billions and trillions of miles and lightyears away, not just a flat sheet around you, but infinite space so large you could only comprehend it as that sheet, but it wasn’t and you didn’t even have the ground under you to steady yourself against the sensation, it was all just massive everything and you were nothing but the smallest blip of dust floating around just like everything else, never even hoping to collide with the infinity around you because there was what felt like infinity space between you and all those things too.)

Demyx frowned, taking all of that in. He shifted more fully onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, but imagining the sky above it. All that billion and trillions of lightyears of stuff around them, all that everything that was so outside of themselves. Ienzo just an itty-bitty button-blip in all the cosmic magnitude of everything… woah…

Heavy stuff.

…

{ :) }

{It’s kind of cool that in all that big cosmic everything, we got to be together.}

{A sense of being the universe and looking down through it all, back to Ienzo. Zooming in and in and in from the great expanse of nothingness and everything, focusing back onto the earth, back onto the continent, back onto Luminary, the capital, this room, and in all that debris of possibility, seeing the little speck of Ienzo, glowing in the chaos of it all… and another little speck with him! Because Demyx gets to be there too! And that’s kinda awesome! Two little specks in the universe, hand in hand. The coolest two pieces of cosmic dust around, hands down!}

Ienzo’s next heavy breath shook. A bit of warm reassurance running through him, despite it all. 

{...}

{இ﹏இ I’m never going to even get close to knowing it all. That’s not fair.}

{There was an abbreviated scene of the night before. A tragedy of history. A tragedy of contemporary time. Those things linked by a meeting of very literal, cosmically inclined, immortal divine beings, a truth of the universe revealed to him. And that truth showing Ienzo just how little he was in the face of it. How little he knew. How little he would ever know, because those truths hadn’t come from a book, and were things that would never be written. So much of the universe contained in conversations and acts on scales and in spaces he could hardly conceive. So much knowledge on other planes of existence done by beings cosmically alien to him for as much as they were tangled in the world on timescales that he was hardly a nanosecond in.}

{If fates could be traded and decided thousands of years in the past, if decisions could be made through machinations that had to be traced through that timespan and through people on all sorts of planes of existence, then what chance could anyone ever have in understanding the world around them? When the amount of information you could possibly grasp in a lifetime was that tiny mote of dust in the mass of the universe.}

{It wasn’t fair.}

“Ooooooh,” Demyx blinked, “...yeah. That sucks.”

“...that’s kinda cool that you know that stuff now though,” Demyx observed, before brightening, “Oh man, do I suddenly have, like, sacred cosmic knowledge? I just literally saw from you a divine plan, am I a sage now? Keeper of… I guess Atua’s plan? If I read all that right? We should get prophet points for that, or sainthood, or something. That feels like the sort of thing you learn that gives you a title.”

“...I mean of course I’m glad I know, it’s always better to know,” Ienzo quickly and petulantly muttered, his fingers curling against his scalp. Though, his voice dropped into despair. “How do you even find out things about the gods that aren’t essentially propaganda or puff pieces? Every holy book I know of is fixated on the subject of the divine as saving scripture.”

With another heavy, huffing breath, he tensely shrugged. “Atua and Bathul. Ask Dilan about it, he’d know more.”

“Are you kidding? You definitely know more.” Demyx chuckled, reaching up to playfully poke Ienzo’s temple. “In that library noggin of yours? You’ve been collecting people's thoughts like a brain hoarder ever since they brought you to the factories. You know how many of the people I conditioned were religious? And I mean Dilan-type religious, deeply religious. It was one of those things that always stuck out to me, because the conditioning would sometimes make them question their faith, which was sad, and sometimes it didn’t make them question their faith, which was… sometimes more sad.”

Demyx frowned, staring at the ceiling, briefly looking tired. Old. Haunted by the memories… before he forced the horrors he was seeing in his mind away as he smiled at Ienzo. “It’s kind of nice to know that the people who were holding onto that stuff as their last hope weren't holding onto nothing. I don’t know if it changes much of anything to know that the gods are real or destiny is a thing or any of that. Maybe I just haven’t thought enough about how everything works to grapple with what all of that means. The world seems just as chaotic and out of my control now as it did a few minutes ago. But knowing there’s actual gods out there makes all that desperate praying feel less heartbreaking, at least… that’s kinda nice.”

“Hope is never for nothing,” Ienzo said, voice a little softer than it had been, “As far as I understand, faith is held almost definitionally on the basis of never knowing concretely what you have faith in exists, or that your worldview is fundamentally shifted to see that concrete evidence in the entire world around you. But hope is never wasted regardless what you have it in. A being actually listening to prayers or no, the act of doing so in hope is like striking flint and creating a fire. Who knows where the smoke will go or who would see the flames, but that’s not the point. It still warms you.”

Ienzo cringed in a sort of jolt, sliding his hands away from his ears but just curling his arms up around his head as he faced down against his chest instead. Muttering, “...I don’t know. I dunno. I don’t. Know.”

“You suuuuper sounded like you knew there for a second, Button.” Demyx grinned, rolling onto his side and tugging on Ienzo’s shirt a bit. “Tell me about the stuff you don’t know.”

“Everything,” Ienzo heaved into his arms, trembling lightly. “I don’t know how many gods there are, if it’s every one I’ve ever heard of, more, less, I don’t know how many events were directly caused by their actions, I don’t know the limits of their abilities, or even the scope, I don’t know how many people were caused by their actions, I have no clue how much free will fits into anything, I don’t know if the gods are even physical beings or all the ways they can functionally interact with the world, I don’t know where they usually exist, I bet I can’t even comprehend that sort of metaphysical existence if that’s even on the right track, I don’t know what sort of propaganda the Flora used to turn the whole world against beings that had been around and living in cohesion with all other species for centuries, I don’t understand the properties of the soul as a physical or metaphysical object that can be split into pieces which then make their own beings--”

Ienzo blinked wide in his arms, “--which is what Alter Ego is, I think. Or a collection of those pieces.”

“Yeah, I don’t really get what Alter Ego is either. I kinda just nodded when they were explaining it to me,” Demyx mused, lightly rubbing his thumb along the side of Ienzo’s foot. Ienzo had great feet. They curved. “...I still don’t really get what we are, Button. It’s not a competition of who doesn’t know more, but, ya know, if it was? I’d win. There’s lots I don’t really understand. Did you and your dads ever figure out why we see ourselves in our own memories in the third person? I know I pick at that a lot, but that’s so weird.”

“I know knowing a lot means more to you than it does to me,” Demyx admitted, “You’re smart and if you wanted you could probably learn everything, with enough time. It’s different, to want and be able to do that, than it is to just… not be able to do that. I know.”

“...I don’t know. I was trying to say something inspirational, but I think I just called myself dumb to do it, and now I’m bummed out,” Demyx admitted with a sigh, “My point is, you’re really smart, and you’re working on this with Zexion too. Who’s also crazy smart. You guys will figure it out. It being, I guess, everything?”

There was a grumble into Ienzo’s arms, but if deciphered was likely something along the lines of: “Dad’s theory that we have an additional sense that’s aware of the space around us holds weight, but I have an additional theory. Remembering something ‘normally’ usually recalls the event from first-person, as you might assume would happen. But recalling an event through psychic means places you as an outside observer fundamentally, so I believe that watching something in first-person but as an observer is too disorienting and may cause a disruption of ego, so the mind defaults to third person to avoid that.”

There wasn’t much space in the corner, but Ienzo still full-body nudged Demyx, grumbling that he was smart. Though, he went still right after, before huffing a moan. “No we won’t, and that’s what sucks!! We’ll figure out a lot! There will be countless things we’ll learn! But we won’t get even close to everything! Even if I could find some collection of all possible knowledge, I wouldn’t live even the most infinitesimal fraction long enough to get through it all, and I don’t want immortality because even if I’d meet new people to care about, everyone I care about now is mortal, and I couldn’t get a minddump of all that knowledge because something that large would kill me.” 

Demyx blinked at Ienzo, startled by all of that… before he huffed, rolling his eyes a little. “Okay. Sure.”

Reaching up, he wrapped his arm around Ienzo’s waist, pulling his boyfriend a bit from the wall and closer to his hip. “Look, I tried being encouraging, I tried being sympathetic. But… you do know you’re kind of bitching about nothing, right? I mean, don’t get me wrong, everything you apparently found out last night was a lot. But, bud, come on… you didn’t actually think you were going to know everything someday, right?”

“I was going to get close!” Ienzo whined, not making it easy in the slightest to move him. “I’d at least have an idea of the things I didn’t know, things I just wouldn’t have the time to pursue. But now there’s so much more and so much that I don’t even know I don’t know and it’s not fair!!”

(...look, there was maybe, perhaps a part of Ienzo outside of himself that knew he was being…maybe a little over-dramatic. He wasn’t bitching about nothing. But there perhaps was a reason he’d defaulted to how he’d had tantrums as a young child, and not entirely because he’d watched a lot of memories from that timeframe the night before.)

(...he was allowed to be upset. It was a lot to take in, and he’d been really stressed out lately, and he was worried about a lot of people. This thing, this hurt and outrage at the world for something he genuinely cared about, just for himself, was…allowed. He was allowed.)

“Uh huh. Get your nose out of the corner, four-eyes,” Demyx teased, using Maya’s somewhat bewildering nickname for Ienzo as he pulled at him more, “Come on, don’t make me actually try to drag you down here with me. If I actually try, then you and I are both going to have to live with me not actually being able to do so, because I look waaaaay stronger at a glance then I even kind of am. Come doooooooown.”

“Your biceps are more than adequate,” Ienzo grumbled, before tucking himself even more tightly into his ball and leaning in towards the corner, even if Demyx was pulling from his waist. His voice in an uncharacteristic childish whine as he shortly snapped, “No.”

“Boo. Yes.” Demyx said, tugging harder.

“No!” Doing his father proud, Ienzo clenched his abs, engaging every muscle within him to remain pressed into the walls.

“Auuuuughhh, see, this is exactly what I was worried about! This is going to be so embarrassing!” Demyx whined, rolling over and getting onto his knees, wrapping both arms around Ienzo and, essentially, trying to suplex him, “Come ooooooon!”

“Nnnnnnnm!”

If life were a cartoon, perhaps Ienzo would’ve gone flying over Demyx’s head in the suplex, splatting against the wall before peeling off onto their bed. As it was, Ienzo let go of a horribly embarrassing noise as he was pulled back, landing on Demyx’s chest now on his back in the ball.

“Hah! Got you!” Demyx crowed, hugging Ienzo to his chest… before pouting, “Alright, I don’t know what to do with you now that I have you. Also, you’re still, like, a circle… and kinda heavy.”

“Suffer under the weight of my existential ennui,” Ienzo grumbled, before reluctantly unfurling. Demyx’s grip around his waist was still tight, but not so tight that he couldn’t turn around, and after all that muscle-work, Ienzo went limp over his boyfriend, resting his head in the space between Demyx’s head and shoulder.

“...Maki was pissed the hell off,” he mumbled, explaining more of the night. She’d be okay, eventually. The cause of a famine and thousands of deaths on her shoulders because of that…he did still believe she’d be okay. She had been the one to tell Zexion that sometimes there really was just no making up for what you did, but you had to accept that and move on anyway. He believed she could get there in time. 

“...the princes are calling a therapist for Mariam this morning.”

“That’s kinda fucked up that she did that.” Demyx frowned, lightly rubbing Ienzo’s back as his boyfriend nuzzled into his shoulder. “I know we don’t have a lot of room to point fingers at people. But it’s kinda fucked up.”

“Though, okay! A brain doctor! Great!” Demyx said, “I think that’s good? I mean, Lauriam and Marluxia are kinda going through a ‘thing’ right now, so it’s kind of good to know someone might be able to help us a bit with that. I know you wanted to teach yourself how to fix them yourself in, like, a few hours, but this feels like the less stressful option if I’m honest.”

“Mhmm,” Ienzo hummed in agreement, before he let out a small, barely-there breath. “I’m not sorry, though. Perhaps there were other ways to win the war, infinite ones, likely, but I’m not going to regret anything that gave us our freedom. Knowing that it was on the back of an entire city going hungry…it just means I won’t treat that freedom, and my life, in vain, not that I think I would anyway. It wasn’t fair for innocent people to pay that price.”

Ienzo clenched his jaw. “But it wasn’t fair for us, as innocent people, to pay the price of their comfort either. So we can all just live as best we can.”

He let out a more overt sigh as he went limp again, his arms pressed against Demyx’s sides. “I believe them speaking to a therapist will be good, for as little as I know about the profession, and even more how it’s practiced in Dicea. I’m mostly trusting the recommendation from Maki, Kokichi, and Kaito. And I don’t even know if therapy’s the right angle to help them…unfuse, or whatever is going on. But I don’t know what the right angle would be otherwise either.”

He smiled thinly to the floor. “A bit easier asking a licensed doctor to talk to him, than informally trying to earn a degree in an afternoon myself. For all that I’ve learned about our minds in the last few months…it’s not enough to help them. Not through this, anyway.”

“They’ll unfuse when they feel like it. Or maybe when Lauriam gets tired of Marluxia throwing them into fights,” Demyx mused, “But maybe the brain doctor will make it a little quicker? Or can get through to Marluxia to stop being a dick to Lauriam. Someone has to get through to Marluxia.” Demyx scoffed, looking briefly, genuinely irritated. “I sure didn’t manage it.”

“And, you’re right, at least, in that it definitely gives new weight to our freedom. It all felt so random when it happened… it’s still kind of random, I guess, from our perspective at least. Crazy that your scary symbolic sister did that though. She probably shouldn’t tell very many people that. Sort of thing you keep close to the chest.”

Ienzo tilted his head, looking at Demyx’s face from the corner of his eye for a moment, before he reached up and stroked along the side of Demyx’s cheek into the sheared side of his head for a moment. “...if any of it is contingent on Lauriam getting tired of Marluxia, fights with others or between the two of them, I don’t think that will ever happen. But…maybe a professional might have a better chance of helping Marluxia express himself in ways that are less…harsh. He loves Lauriam a lot. In the right perspective, I think he’d be willing to put in the effort. And I think you get through to both of them more than you give yourself credit for.”

Humming softly, Ienzo nodded, his chin pressing into the top of Demyx’s shoulder. “I’m not planning on spreading it around.” It was so obvious it didn’t bear saying that ‘not spreading it around’ didn’t include Ienzo’s family. “But she was already struggling under the awe people had just for her being driven and competent. If they knew she had the ear of a god, I don’t think anyone would believe it was a one-time thing, and I think being treated as divine herself isn’t something Maki would be comfortable with. It’s too much of an expectation for a person.”

“I don’t think she’d even want me to know, if she had a clear choice about it,” Ienzo softly admitted. “She asked me to help pin down things that have been bothering her, but it’s a different matter, asking me about conditioning I already knew about, to literal divine providence.” Ienzo felt a heaviness in his eyes that was matched in his chest. “...she called it her greatest sin.”

“I don’t think she’s wrong.” Demyx said, “Don’t get me wrong, I get what you’re saying and why she did it, I’m grateful it happened and I still like her. I don’t know her that well, but she’s important to you and she’s helped a lot of people, there’s a lot of reasons to like her.”

“But she also did a famine,” Demyx shrugged, “And that’s just also something that’s true. And I don’t like that bit. Same way I don’t like that I’ve tortured people for my own, like, comfort. That’s not a part of me I like. It’s not a part of you I like. It doesn’t mean I love you any less, or that I’m not awesome in a lot of ways. But… we’re all living with the shitty stuff we did. I get why it bothers her. It should.”

“...though I guess sometimes I feel guilty that what we did doesn’t bother me more, when I’m not actively remembering it was bad,” Demyx said softly, “We’ve talked about that before, I think.”

“Not being murdered or tortured, while technically true, is connotatively a different matter than just calling it our comfort,” Ienzo argued in a grumble, before he agreed, “It should still bother us, though. Her. I think it’s important that we’ve kept the perspective to know not just logically, but emotionally that we’ve done great harm to people, and that that’s not a good thing.”

“...but even if you feel guilty about it, I’m glad it doesn’t bother you more, and if I sound like I’m trying to…downplay, or forgive what Maki did…” Ienzo let out a shaky, quiet sigh. “...Demyx, you know I’m intimately familiar with what being consumed with guilt is like. What it does to you. I’m not…okay. I’m not okay. I spent years trapped in my head surrounded by my personal nightmare because I was so guilty about what I did that I couldn’t ever think of anything else. I’m not okay.”

“...and I never want that to happen to you guys. So if you feel more aloof than you think you should be? I’m glad for it.”

“Oh right. Sometimes I forget the… screaming blood place,” Demyx frowned, brow furrowing, “Or maybe just don’t like to think about it. That was… yeah, I don’t like to think about all of that. That was a bad day. Or a bad, uh, decade, for you…”

“... I don’t like to think about that. Let’s talk about something else,” Demyx said, shifting his body over to his side, dragging Ienzo down to his side with him, hugging him with a sigh, “I don’t like to think about most things. I don’t know why you’re so into it. It kind of sucks, knowing things.”

Sometimes Ienzo was hardly aware of it. So checked out that his entire…ego was suppressed, floating in some sort of sea of consciousness within him. Sometimes his throat burned from screams that went nowhere as he felt countless blades pierce and tear through his body, his mind feeling like a balloon filled with scalding water ready to pop from how the screams of the children--who should have been his siblings--drowned out every thought he could possibly have. He wasn’t sure when he had finally clawed his ears off, only that it didn’t help and he could still hear them. 

Ienzo felt a lurch in his stomach as Demyx rolled them onto their sides, a panicked flutter in his chest.

(Maki said they were okay. Thirty had made it over the border and were safe and sound and free.)

(Ienzo still knew what every one of their screams sounded like.)

“Sometimes,” Ienzo conceded softly, tucking himself tightly against Demyx like he had the wall earlier, “But I’d still rather know than not know. And I’d argue the amount of stuff to know that’s wonderful vastly outnumbers the things to know that suck.”

“...”

“...I want to go find my orphanage.”

“Your orphanage?” Demyx asked, looking a little bewildered, “What… the one you and Maki came from? Where’s that?”

Ienzo nodded, his cheek now rubbing against the rug they were lying on. “It’s in the Dredge.” 

Also known as the Lowes District, at least on paper and street signs and in polite company. If Royal Districts tended to be clean, decorated with Ronpan-style hanging wooden signs because, as being in the center of cities, they were the most protected from wind and sandstorms, then the Dredge was the first barricade against those things and couldn’t afford anything not made of heavy stone or bolted into the ground. If the residents living there could’ve afforded anything more anyway. It wasn’t exactly a slum, but it certainly wasn’t rich, and it was the sort of district in which people saved up in hopes of moving farther into the city. 

Or, that housed people that had no choice about where they were. 

(Being able to see the desert from the top of the orphanage had, likely, been mighty inspiring for all the runaways. Even in spite of all the stories they got of no one ever succeeding.)

“The Dredge… oh! It’s here?” Demyx looked far more shocked than he realized in that exact same moment he should have been, as he said, “Ooooooh, that’s riiiiight. You lived in this city before. I knew that, but still! I’m a little surprised. It’s the same way I keep getting surprised Aqua’s dojo is around here, Axel grew up here, Isa went to school here… wow, a lot of us in a roundabout way came from this city. That’s kind of wild to think about. The universe might be impossibly big, but the world’s kinda small.”

“...sure. Let’s go see it,” Demyx said, “Why not?”

Ienzo nodded again. “Seisear’s in the northwest, so to move me far away, I was sent to the capital. Standard procedure for orphans.” As was renaming them, but Ienzo had tossed that notion right out the window, regardless of what any paperwork might’ve said. He had his real name on them all now.

“It’s a long trip from the castle to the Dredge. We’ll have to confer with Aerith about our schedules.”

“That’s alright. We’re stuck on damn Form 771-A2 anyway for the next two days.” Demyx grumbled, “Freaking 221-A forms. The first one was a nightmare, I couldn’t believe there was a second part. I get it, it’s more complicated when the stores have been given loans from other lords on your land, but uuuuuugh they always drag their heels sending signatures, I swear some of them are doing it to just be malicious.”

“Anyway. We have a few free days anyway, we can take a day to go see where you grew up. Or, one of the places you grew up for a bit.” Demyx smiled. “What are you hoping to find there?”

Ienzo let out a slow, beleaguered sigh at the reminder of the technical property the stores in Seisear had to the lord. Honestly, he was hoping to speak to Maebh about drafting proposals to give the proprietors sole ownership over their stores…though, that did still have to contend with the power government had to control pricing in times of struggle to avoid surge pricing and scalpers but…well…

Thus, the sigh. 

“Maki and I became friends because she got back a memento from home our guardians had stolen from me. She told me to hide it better, since they were notorious for that.” Ienzo nuzzled against Demyx a bit. “Before we were sent to the factory, I did, and now I want it back, if it’s still there.”

“Oh… oh,” Demyx said softly. There was doubt in the small ‘oh’. Like he was already preparing himself to comfort Ienzo in the near future… but he smiled, and still just as sincerely said, “Crazier things have happened. Sure. Maybe it’s still there! We won’t know till we look.”

“And at least that will be one more thing you know for certain, right?” Demyx said softly.

“Yeah,” Ienzo breathed, before he gave Demyx a small squeeze and a smaller smile. “...I think I had given up on it my first week in the factory. I’m not that attached, or expecting much, Demyx. But it occurred to me that I could just…check. So I’m going to.”

He smiled a little more. “We can think of it as a tiny trial run for tracking down the much more important matter of your parents.”

Demyx grimaced. Another thing he didn’t like to think about much. It was much easier to just keep going with their group, doing things the others needed to do… Confronting his own problems? And those consequences? That sounded like a draaaaag.

…he had no idea what a reunion with his parents was going to be like.

But still he said, “Yeah, that’s a good idea. But, your treasure/trinket thing first! Want to try to go today?”

Ienzo let out a sigh that seemed to be every cubic inch of his lung capacity. “...that means getting off the floor.”

“Eh. Another five minutes.”

“Your wisdom surpasses the breadth of the universe.”

-

Shuichi talked to Maki. But, it was more accurate to say that Shuichi let Maki talk. 

The two laid out on the floor of Maki’s room, as over the course of the night, Maki told Shuichi everything that had happened. The memories she half remembered, and the ones that had slipped away, and the ones that suggested others. 

It had been hard for Maki to talk about the dragon and the famines, and perhaps it wasn’t that surprising that as Maki struggled to form words around that, she and Shuichi started to talk about her memories of the factory.

“A giant spider lady, huh.” Shuichi said, staring at nothing in particular, his arms around his stomach, “You’d think I’d have a fear of spiders then, rather than being choked in the dark.”

“She’d hunt you through the darkness, and when she caught you, you’d be bound and suffocated.” Maki said, “I guess over the years you translated that to being hunted by men in shadows who’d strangle you.”

“Grim,” Shuichi sighed, “and leaves me with even less of a desire to remember all of that. What happened to you in the warehouse?”

“During the day, like I said, everything was normal. Boring. We’d just do classes and eat food and otherwise just sit in rooms by ourselves with nothing to do all day.” Maki said, “It made us really overly sensitive to stimuli at night. Or, at least I think that was the point. I didn’t see much of mine yet, but I was put in this club sort of place. There was music and lights and other people… and it was like I was getting flooded every night. The music forced emotions into me. I’d suddenly be inescapably afraid, or impossibly angry, sometimes even manically happy,” Maki frowned, remembering the sheer endless hysterical feeling of being in that room, “And when there was this like… pocket in me? That’s the only way I can explain it, there were suddenly these pockets in my mind that I think she, my torturer, put in me. When I felt the pockets? They didn’t ‘make’ me put my feelings in there. I rushed to do it. Burying those emotions in parts of my psyche I couldn’t access anymore. Just desperate to not feel them anymore.”

“Did they start using your siblings against you?” Shuichi asked.

Maki shook her head, “I didn’t get that far in my memories. I was talking to Ienzo and explaining how my feelings about the famine didn’t make sense, that I had figured out there was something there I wasn’t letting myself acknowledge. He did this mental read on me, gave me a book, Amaina did all of her stupid usual Amaina things… well, I told you about all of that.”

“Yeah,” Shuichi closed his eyes, “...I’m sorry you didn’t get your memories back. But I still don’t know why you wanted them.”

“I think those memories are still hurting me,” Maki said softly, “Not just the warehouse, but the famine, the dragon… the things I don’t remember are still hurting me. Which means the danger is in the things I’m forgetting.”

“And it’s more dangerous to ignore danger, than it is to just confront it.” Shuichi recited, sighing, “...you really started a famine for Kaito?”

“Yes.” Maki whispered.

“When you could have just traded for Byakuya’s death?”

Maki closed her eyes. Tears beading the corner of her lashes. “...yes.”

“...” Shuichi moved his head. Shifting over to lay his temple against Maki’s. “...I forgive you.”

Maki’s face scrunched into a sudden grimace of pain. Tears running down the side of her face. “I don’t. How could I have done that? Indentured have probably starved more than anyone. How could I?”

“I forgive you,” Shuichi whispered again, taking Maki’s hand as he laid his forehead against her temple, “I forgive you.”

Maki sobbed.

-

It seemed to help a little, Shuichi’s forgiveness. Or maybe it was more accurate to say it helped to have her friend there, listening to Maki spill her feelings out. Just the act of talking about it relieving some of the grief and horror in her. 

But Maki was far from okay, when Shuichi needed to get up and leave as the sunrise started to peek through the wafting curtains that Elia had forced Maki to decorate with. “I need to get some rest before my shift with Miyako.”

“I know.”

“...I can stay.” Shuichi offered.

“No,” Maki said, closing her eyes, “It’s okay. You’ve been here all night. Go get some sleep.”

“...I’m going to send Kaito to sit with you.”

There was a tense silence. Shuichi waiting. Waiting for Maki to tell him not to do it. Shuichi wanting to explain he didn’t want Maki to be alone right then. That her and Kaito would get through this. That it would be okay.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to him.” Maki said instead. “I think I hate him, right now.”

“I’ll send Kaito.” Shuichi said again, before heading off. Kaito might be scared of Maki, but Shuichi wasn’t. If he thought something would be good for her? He’d insist.

And maybe Shuichi was okay with throwing Kaito in the line of fire right now, as he sent his husband to go sit with their friend who currently hated him.

Kaito stood in front of Maki’s door, and was going to knock… but he just sighed. Turning the handle and heading in. Shuichi’s warnings that Maki had been desponded and laid out on the ground fresh in his mind as he walked into the dark room, “Maki-roll–”

“We’re going out.” Maki said, freshly dressed. Shoving a sheathed sword into Kaito’s arms, “Come on.”

Kaito stared at the sword. Oh, that’s where this one went. It was one of the training blades he had traveled with. He had thought it had left with the Luminary party, and hadn’t thought much of it either way. 

The last time he had handled it, he had been pointing it at Kokichi. 

“...okay.” Kaito said, following her. 

-

Maki and Shuichi liked to lay out on the floor and talk, soothed by each other's presence as they floated through the universe together.

But Maki and Kaito? They needed to move. To walk. To expel energy, lest it explode in their veins. 

It was early morning, and Maki hadn’t slept at all, and Kaito hadn’t slept much better. But out into the world they went. A sword at Kaito’s hips, Maki in a skirt. 

There had been moments like this before. Kaito had warned Maki in moments like these before, that he wouldn’t be able to truly fight, and neither would she. Kokichi’s disapproval hanging over both their heads, and what that disapproval could physically do to Kaito’s husband and Maki’s friend, constantly restraining their actions. Kaito unwilling to risk another heart attack that could start another series of crippling medical emergencies that would waylay his husband and leave him bedridden.

It had been a long time since that had last happened. But not that long. It felt like a betrayal, for Kaito to not bring that up with Maki again as the two walked. That Kaito couldn’t risk the stress this might put his husband through, if Maki wanted him to fight her. That Kaito still had nightmares of Kokichi laid out like a corpse, unresponsive and small and maybe someday never waking up.

Kaito just let the feeling of guilt settle inside of himself. Now wasn’t the time.

But eventually, as the run rose higher, Kaito had to ask, “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.” Maki said. 

Kaito looked around. Physically, they seemed to be going out to the forest that led to the mountains. The last time he had gone in this direction, he went to go retrieve Maki’s reckless siblings, all running away together. Otherwise, he didn’t know the area much. Just forestry and mountains. “I don’t want to go much further.”

“Fine.” Maki said, stopping. Turning on the spot, Kaito stopping and staring back a few feet behind her. “We’ll stop here. Here is as good as anywhere.”

“...for what?” Kaito asked.

“I don’t know.” Maki said.

“...sure. Well, let me know when you think of it, I guess.” Kaito said, pulling the sword off his hip and throwing it into the grass, “Forgot how heavy those things are. Seriously, where even are we? We couldn’t have picked a clearing or something? Come on, Maki, we’re people of theatrics. This is literally the most random bit of woods we could have ended up at. There’s not even a decent spot to sit.”

Maki frowned, glancing around the area. Kaito wasn’t wrong… there were roots coming up enough to trip up their footing, but nothing thick enough to properly sit on. It was shady without being comforting, the trees just blocking out the sun. It was still wet from dew.

It was sort of a lackluster place to have this sort of conversation.

…and Maki and Kaito cared about aesthetics. Maki cared less when it was other people. But if it was Kaito? Then yes. The scenery mattered.

He was special.

“I suppose we could find somewhere better… Kaito.” Maki sighed, watching Kaito hop to a low hanging branch, “If you fall and break your back, I’m leaving you to die.”

“Yeah, yeah, just–hurk!--give me a minute!” Kaito said, climbing up the tree. Maki watching him as he got higher and higher, before he disappeared behind the leaves. “...bingo! We have a creek, like, fifteen minutes south! What do we think!? Creek a good spot?”

“Is it a big creek?” Maki asked, crossing her arms.

“Big enough I can see it from a damn tree, yeah!”

“Fine. Catch up.” Maki said, walking south.

“Wait, wait, I’m heading down! Maki! Hey!” 

Kaito did catch up eventually, and he was pleased to say he had been right. The creek was nicer, more atmospheric. The water was rushing, good enough to foam, but it was still short and walkable. Which Kaito knew because Maki had already taken off her boots and had shuffled knee high into it. Her skirt flowing a bit as she waded through, the sun making the rippling waves around her shimmer in its rays.

“Is it cold?” Kaito asked, as he started to take off his own boots.

“Don’t be pathetic.” Maki said simply. 

“Yeah, yeah, my bad…” Kaito said, at first trying to roll up his pants, and realizing they were too tight for that–curse his desire for form-fitting pants–pulling them off, tossing them aside, “Should I bring in the sword?”

Maki didn’t answer. So Kaito did. The water just a bit below his knees as he waddled in next, the mud sucking at his feet for every step he took. “Honestly, Maki? If we spar, I think you just win. You can throw daggers, and pulling my feet from the mud each step is going to slow me down. I don’t think I can put up much of a fight.”

“I brought you a sword to protect yourself from me.” Maki said simply, staring out to where the creek twisted and turned out. “In case I tried to kill you.”

“...are you that mad at me?” Kaito asked.

“I don’t know.” Maki said.

“Ooooh,” Kaito realized with a sigh, “You’re… dealing with that ‘thing’ again aren’t you. You’re doing that shitty ‘I don’t want to make choices’ thing, so you’re dragging me around to do it for you.”

Maki didn’t answer that, and Kaito sighed, looking at the sword at his hip. “...I’m not going to ask you to attack me, Maki.”

Maki didn’t say anything. 

“I don’t feel guilty for what you did, Maki.”

“You’re a monster,” Maki said, turning around and glaring at Kaito. True, honest fury in her face, “You’re a monster. How can you not feel guilty!? How can it not weigh on you!? I killed hundreds, maybe thousands of people for you! For your comfort, your happiness! How can knowing that not make you want to rip yourself apart!? You selfish, greedy, Momota shit!?”

Kaito grinned tiredly, “Yep.”

“What is wrong with you!? How can you fucking just smile!? I killed people for you! Not just my people, YOUR people! You’re their prince and I threw them into famine! I did it for selfish reasons! You don’t feel any desire to protect them!? To avenge them!? They’re your people, you monster!”

“Mmm.” Kaito hummed, before shrugging, “Kinda, I guess.”

“How can you not care!? Kokichi was right about you. You just don’t care!” Maki screamed, forcing her feet to move through the grasping, sinking mud as she moved closer to him, murder in her eyes as she screamed, “You don’t care about anything!”

“I care about you.” Kaito said quietly, though he didn’t move backwards as Maki got closer. 

“Selfish! You’re so fucking selfish! What would have been enough for you!? Your family owned me my entire life! You grew up in a home that doubled as a city! You had every comfort, every luxury! A god GAVE MY SOUL TO YOU!” Maki screamed, reaching to her skirt… and scowling as she realized the heavy material her skirt was made of, to hide the weight and shifting of her daggers, had clung together from the water. Unable to easily grab her daggers now. 

“Yeah,” Kaito said, watching Maki try and fail to grab her daggers, “I guess that’s true. Even your soul was a gift to me.”

Maki screamed. She attempted to lunge forward.

The mud clung to her feet, and she stumbled into his arms. But if there was anything romantic in him catching her, it didn’t last. Maki scrambling, scratching and clawing, at his shirt, attempting to topple him, push him back. Kaito held firm for a moment, pushing her back, but gasped when Maki jabbed her hand into his thigh, buckling his legs backwards, and suddenly Kaito was on his back in the water. 

The mud was working against him. Kaito couldn’t lift his feet well to kick her off, the weight of the sword having sunk him deeper and faster into the mud then the weight of Maki’s daggers had sunk her into it. Kaito successfully pushed Maki off of him at one point, but it hadn’t mattered because Maki had just managed to crawl on top of him again, pushing his body back down when Kaito had briefly managed to get his head up for air. 

It wasn’t like their dances, or even their spars. There was nothing beautiful or performative in this. Kaito didn’t feel like he was expressing strength, or Maki expressing her elegance and speed.

It just felt barbaric. Brutal and demanding, almost awkward in its passion and straightforwardness. Kaito suspected if someone had stumbled upon them in the water, Maki’s attempt to murder him wouldn’t even register in their minds, because of how thrashing and uncoordinated the attempt looked. Like Maki could have just as easily been clumsily trying to help him up. 

Kaito could hear Maki screaming more abuse at him, but couldn’t hear clearly over the sound of the water rushing around his ears. He was sure whatever it was was just true. Kaito was a monster. Selfish. Uncaring. Momota. Momota. Momota.

Kaito didn’t want to die. But briefly, genuinely… he was proud of Maki for finally doing it.

It was honestly about time they had killed a villain.

-

Kaito coughed as the water rushed out of his throat. Breathing heavily at first, each breath catching another cough, until eventually he took a few breaths in a row that didn’t feel like a desperate bid to escape the water in his lungs. 

The sun was on his face. That felt nice. Wow he was tired. He could feel his entire body, how physically worn down it was. He coughed again, blinking tiredly as he watched the clouds drift lazily across the sky, disappearing past the tree line.

Maki panted next to him, wiping her mouth from where she had forced the water out of his lungs. Maki staring at the grass as Kaito watched the sky. 

“...why didn’t you pick me?” Maki asked.

Kaito’s eyes welled with tears. Not at what had just happened. But at the question. “We’re bad for each other.” He reminded her, throat tight with his regret at that. Or maybe still tight from where he had been drowning. “We’re so bad for each other.”

“That isn’t why you didn’t pick me.” Maki said. “I picked you. Over and over. I came to Dicea for you. Spared your family. Came back to Dicea. Forgave a thousand atrocities. I picked you over everyone. Over myself. And you never picked me once. Why?”

Kaito closed his eyes, his chest tightening. A terrible, heavy guilt filling him. “I tried… I really tried. I wanted to pick you. But I fell in love. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t pick me before you met Kokichi.”

“I wanted everything Kokichi is to me,” Kaito said softly, “He’s so… nice to me.” Kaito chuckled bitterly, tears rolling over his cheeks, “And he would never, never, in a thousand years, do what you did for me. Not in a thousand lifetimes, would he choose me over a city. Not if I offered all of myself to him, devoted every thought to him, gave him every atom of my being, would he ever do that. I know. I know.”

“But he’s so nice to me.” Kaito said, sniffing pathetically, wiping a hand over his face, “And I’m so selfish, Maki. I’ll pick him over anyone, because he’s so fucking nice to me. I was never going to pick you. You’ve done everything for me, and I’ll never pick you. I’m sorry.”

“And you attacked your own people for me… but you know who, hah! You know who else did that!?” Kaito suddenly sputtered, sitting up and grinning manically at Maki, “Wanna guess who else risked thousands of peoples lives for me?! Guess! Guess, Maki!”

“...Byakuya–”

“Don’t ask me to feel fucking guilty!” Kaito shouted, glaring at Maki, water from the creek dripping with his tears as he looked at her in fury, “Don’t ask me to fucking take responsibility for the shitty fucking things you guys keep doing in my fucking name! I’ll take responsibility for a lot, sure! I know I benefited from what my family did to you! To tons of people! I grew up in luxury, I know! A fucking, I don’t know, GOD! A GOD custom made me to make you love me! And he gave my family every advantage in the world! I’ve literally been handed perfect, unfaltering, unending love by the FUCKING GODS! And you picked me over everyone because of that! I know!” 

“BUT THAT’S NOT MY FUCKING FAULT!” Kaito shouted, looking around for his sword, and realizing he had no idea where it was now, grabbing some mud and throwing it at Maki’s shoulder, who glared back at him, “You know who else didn’t get a choice in all of this shit!? Me! I’m sorry you tried to kill a fucking city because you loved me, but I was fucking made for you! Made for you to obsess over, made for Kokichi to distract him from his fucking country, let’s be honest, probably made to make Shuichi lesser of whatever’s going on with him too! I made you all fucking worse! I made everyone fucking worse! I ‘made’ Byakuya go to war, and I ‘made’ you start a famine, and I ‘make’ Kokichi be a worse ruler, and FUCK ALL OF YOU! I DON’T FUCKING MAKE YOU WORSE! IT’S NOT MY FUCKING FAULT YOU ALL ARE ASSHOLES WHEN THERE’S SOMETHING IN IT FOR YOU!”

Kaito threw more mud at Maki, before shakily getting up. Starting to storm off in fury, before collapsing onto his knees. Still feeling weak from the drowning. “It’s not my fault. It’s not my fucking fault. I refuse to feel guilty. Call me monster, call me Momota, whatever, fuck all of you.” Kaito growled, staring with swimming eyes at the mud, “I refuse. I’m not going to do it. A god made me a half decent fuck and everyone lost their fucking minds over it. That’s not my fault.”

“S-so, so, yes. I picked Kokichi! He’s nice to me! I wanted someone to be nice to me! Who doesn’t, fucking, drown me! When he’s mad! Who doesn’t murder cities for me! Because he’s fucking nice!” Kaito said, shakily sitting down again, glaring at Maki, who was still sitting where he had left her. Looking calmly at him, “I picked Togami too, because he was nice to me. I knew what I wanted, Maki. I wanted someone to be gentle with me. I don’t want a dragon, or a king, or a god killer or whatever you and I were supposed to be. I wanted someone nice to me. Killing a city for me isn’t the fucking banquet of flowers you seemed to think it was.”

“I’d pick Togami again too, over you.” Kaito sneered, glaring at her, “Even knowing everything I know now. I still won’t pick you.”

The two sat in silence for a bit. Catching their breath. Staring at each other… before Kaito whimpered. Crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees, putting his head in his hands and sobbing, “...I wish I would. I wish I still could. I love you Maki. You killed a city for me. I wish I could pick you. It’s too hard. I love you. I love you so much. Please don’t do that for me anymore. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you love me like that. I’m sorry. I never wanted this.”

“...please.” Maki sighed, looking away from him, “You love that I did that.”

Kaito took another shuddering, full body sob… before nodding into his hands. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re just someone that likes to be loved, Kaito.” Maki said tiredly running her hands through her hair, pushing them back behind her ears. For once they stayed, the water clinging them together, “You still brag about Kokichi picking you when he thought you were exactly what I was just accusing you of being. You love being loved over anything else. If you could ever safely tell someone? You’re going to end up bragging I caused a famine for you.”

“It’s such a fucking romantic gesture. It’s the sort of thing they make songs about.” Kaito sniffled, rubbing his palms into his eyes and tiredly letting them fall, sighing tiredly, “...would you do that for Elia?”

“Don’t make it a competition, Kaito.”

“Kokichi would never do it for me.” Kaito said tiredly, pulling some blades of grass sulkily in front of him, “He won’t even banish some guys for me. Some husband. What’s a banishment or two? And Shuichi always takes his side.”

“...hah,” Maki laughed, falling backwards into the grass, laughing louder, “Hah! Hahaha. Kaito, you can’t compare me starting a famine to your husband making political decisions.That’s not fair to him.”

“I’m so mad that Kokichi would definitely never start a famine for me.” Kaito pouted, though he started laughing with Maki. At first just a chuckle, before it became loud, boisterous laughs. Holding his stomach as the two cackled over it. “He’s too nice for that! It’s so unromantic!”

“You like it though,” Maki chuckled.

“...it’s a different way of being loved.” Kaito smiled thinly, his laughter calming as he shrugged, “It’s a calm, every day kind of love. You can’t start a famine every time you want to declare your love for me, but Kokichi gives me these little face kisses sometimes when I’m asleep, and Maki, it’s the best way to wake up. It’s amazing. It’s not even a sex thing. It just… feels nice.”

“You don’t have to say ‘it’s not even a sex’ thing to me Kaito. I know you’re not just motivated by sex.” Maki said, sighing, “We don’t all love you because you’re a ‘half decent fuck’. You do know that, right?”

“I know. My mind just isn’t very nice to me when I’m upset. So sometimes that’s hard to remember.” Kaito said softly, “Sometimes it feels like I’m just someone who fucks people until they love me, and then I make them worse through that love. And sometimes they kill cities. And sometimes they have heart attacks. Or get unwanted pregnancies… I know how unfair it all is, that you all love me. The gods made you love me. And I made you all worse.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Maki said, “Maybe we were manipulated to love each other, yes. But we wouldn’t be who we are without it. It feels less like we were ‘made’ to love each other, and more like that love is just a fundamental part of who we are. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t pick you over a city.”

“Would you do the same for Elia?” Kaito asked again.

“... I don’t think I’d love Elia the way I do, if I felt like I could.” Maki admitted, “Elia is stronger than you. She could handle whatever I’d be trading, to not harm a city in exchange for upsetting her. That’s why I love her. I like being with someone who doesn’t need me to rescue them. You want someone nice. I want someone strong.”

“That makes me a little jealous.” Kaito admitted softly.

“Kokichi and Shuichi make me jealous too.” Maki shrugged, “But we didn’t pick each other.”

“Not in that way,” Kaito specified. “You picked me in other ways.”

“You did too.” Maki sighed, “I was mad when I said you never pick me. How many times have I nearly killed you, and you never told on me. Not even once.”

Kaito shrugged. It sure wasn’t new. It had been happening since they were kids.

“That’s you picking me over yourself. And you didn’t warn Byakuya I was coming. You picked me over him. I manipulated Shuichi and Kokichi. I killed Togami. The first time around.” Maki quickly clarified when Kaito gave a little gasp, “You’ve never punished me for any of it. Not truly, not once. You pick me over yourself all the time. I was angry… I’m sorry I said that.”

“Really not going to apologize for almost drowning me, huh?”

“I think you did drown, it took a second to wake you up.”

“Ugh.” Kaito shivered. “...thank you for starting a famine for me.”

“I love you a lot, Kaito.” Maki said.

“I know,” Kaito said, “...I think I’d do the same for you.”

Maki smiled. 

-

Sometimes Mariam didn’t know what to say to Linnea. 

There was a lot he could say, even if it got repetitive, but hammering home the fear and resentment and anger he felt was something so big between them that it felt like a constant stormcloud over their heads every time matching green met. He…really needed to tell her about Xaldin and Dilan, though those words never came. He’d only briefly touched on it, but he felt like he hadn’t done an adequate job really expressing his relief that she was okay. A feeling that only grew with every tidbit from the Ribatan Factory he got from Ira. 

Sometimes things were expressed in actions that went beyond words, though. How he’d been woken up for dinner, and felt like crying as Linnea helped him sit up to eat the bowl of pot pie she’d made, a half-submerged biscuit on top so the top was fluffy and the bottom was like a dumpling. Just like she’d made it when he was a little kid. How she helped him with the next application of ointment for the scabbing scratches around his neck and re-bandaging everything, and her gaze never lingered on his injuries more than it had to. How she stayed with him until he fell asleep, a song he’d nearly forgotten hummed in quiet notes as he drifted off. 

She still had been his mom for a little while. And despite everything that came after, that still counted. 

As he’d been woken to eat some sort of weird Dicean porridge in the morning, though, he’d been told he had a guest that wanted to talk to him. 

So Mariam finally put on a shirt, at least. 

A girl entered Mariam’s room, though she was quick to say, “Good day. I’m Dr. Mariah. I’m a therapist for relationships at the moment, but am also a trauma psychologist with a specialty in addictions. I’m also intimately familiar with aspects of the supernatural community. And I was told you were experiencing an emotional crisis and needed some assistance with it.”

Then Dr. Mariah bowed, in a traditional Luminary style. “May I sit?”

“Oh, you.”

Mariam blinked, before sighing. “Well, that saves me some time, and Ira some work. Hope he wasn’t banking on that much… Oh, uh, yeah.” Realizing himself, Mariam leaned forward a bit to return the bow without moving his neck much, before he gestured to one of the chairs in the room. There had been a couple in the room to begin with, but like the sleep-watching weirdos they were, Mariam could only assume his family had brought in more to sit comfortably while they watched him. 

Frowning lightly, Mariam muttered, “I’m not sure how emotional it is, but I’m not sure how much it isn’t either, and it’s a crisis either way. Hey, what did you mean in the hospital by saying that those guys were trying to upset me but not as much as they did?” He gave her a curious look. “My boyfriend called them brain vampires based on everything I described--is that close?”

“I wasn’t sure how coherent you were for that meeting,” Dr. Mariah said simply, her kitten-heels clicking against the floor as she took one of the cushier seats near him, smoothing out her dress around her legs, “Most crises have an emotional aspect to them, even if the distress is entirely physical. For instance, as odd as it can sound said aloud, how a person feels about losing a leg suddenly can often be more alarming and important than the fact that they’ve just lost their leg. People can learn to use prosthetic legs, but first you have to convince them the struggle of doing so is worth it.”

“I’ve been a bit cagey about who they were, I know.” Dr. Mariah said, “And unfortunately I do still have to be reserved in how I define them. Their species comes with quite a few cultural stigmas almost anywhere you go in the world. If the wrong person hears their species name, they could be hunted. For the ‘greater good’.”

“But, for how to describe them?” Dr. Mariah nodded, “I can do that. Most people aren’t even aware of the connection, between what they need and what they are. What they need… is negative emotions. Pain, fear, despair, guilt, frustration. It nourishes them. The stronger the emotion, the more filling. And like any being who feeds on something, they need a lot of it, often. More than they can sometimes reliably get.”

“They chose you because they smelled strong, negative emotions coming off of you,” Dr. Mariah explained, “and hoped if they kept you nearby for a night, and had you emotional for a few hours, they wouldn’t need to feed again for a few weeks. They had hoped to inspire strong emotions. Not to kidnap and brutalize you in the attempt.”

Mariam grimaced lightly. That did make sense, but…strangely enough? While this was confusing and he was freaked out, he’d felt weirdly…steady, since waking up in the hospital. Drained, at least enough to hold off anything that was ‘big’. 

And it turned out there was probably more of a reason for that. 

They had been eating something from him. His…fucking…

“Oh my god,” Mariam whispered, leaning back against his headboard and pressing his palms lightly over his eyes. “Of course. Of course. No one will ever let me live this down. Of fucking course people that eat negativity wanted a full ten course of me. And of course it turned into a murder attempt instead of a side show. What else could I expect…”

He let out a slow breath, dropping his arms. Pausing for a moment to drink from the water glass left by his bedside, clear enough over the dumped contents of his embroidery bag (including his abandoned medical alert bracelet) and necklace. And when he set the glass back down, he gave Dr. Mariah a searching look. 

“...I didn’t think it was them, weird not-emotion dome aside. But, like…nothing mind-melding adjacent is part of their deal, right?”

“In what sense?” Dr. Mariah asked. 

Mariam sighed tiredly. “I’m Lauriam and Marluxia.”

“Hmmm,” Dr. Mariah said, pulling out a small notebook and laying it on her lap, idly tapping a finger against it, “Then no. They can only manipulate emotions in the sense of pulling fears to the front of your mind forcefully. And that’s only if they’re very strong, and those fears already exist somewhere in you to begin with. They cannot create emotions. They cannot morph or change the mind forcefully. They are not, in essence, Empaths.”

“...truly a species of awesome abilities, Empaths,” Dr. Mariah mused, “Common. Shockingly common. I’ve heard one in every five people has a bit of Empath ability in them. But what that power is capable of when scaled up? Perhaps some of the most powerful people in the world are Empaths. If you’ve become one person? Likely the only person who has the power to do that to you, in that moment? Was you.”

Even with Dr. Mariah prefacing that she was familiar with the supernatural community, knowing that Even and Aeleus wouldn’t okay some stranger coming to talk with him like this that didn’t know Empaths, Mariam couldn’t help the wary look he gave her as she started musing upon the abilities of Empaths. Outside of his family, anyone knowing all that was never a good sign. Even if he knew it was alright now.

“I’m no math nerd, but that percentage doesn’t seem right in my experience,” Mariam mumbled, filling time while he thought, before he softly sighed. “That’s kinda what I thought.”

Crossing his arms loosely, Mariam lightly traced over the bruises on his side. “I thought I was dying. Gonna go to paradise, or whatever’s gonna happen. But I wasn’t about to just give up. This is new, but this kind of isn’t. I’ve felt kind of like this before. Like I’ve been in sync to the point where I…I…I - we. Were like one,” he forced out, the words sticking for a moment, “But not like going back to base essence. More equal than that.”

Mariam gave his body a tired once over. “Like this, apparently. And I have no clue how to fix it, and my uncle keeps saying that I’m dead.”

“Hmm… do you find that alarming?” Dr. Mariah asked. “Either death in the moment when you were attacked, or now death in the abstract? Death of ego?”

“I’m not dead!” Mariam snapped, teeth gritting. “I’m - I’m weird right now, but I’m still me, and I don’t care what Vexen sciences up, I’m not a new person! I’m not like Terra!”

“And fucking duh I’m freaked out about almost dying, who shrugs that sort of thing off?” he huffed more calmly. “This sort of stuff isn’t supposed to happen anymore.”

“Go into that for me,” Dr. Mariah said, “This ‘sort of stuff’. Could you clarify?”

Mariam huffed, tiredly waving one of his hands a bit. “I was a prisoner most of my life, the people in charge of us were total loser scumbags that just adored playing mind games and beating the shit out of us. Moving to a place that’s safer? That won’t imprison us again? Our lives aren’t supposed to be in danger all the time anymore. I’m not…”

A frustrated twitch went through Mariam’s face. “Things getting better would mean that I don’t stumble back to my family beaten to shit anymore. Scaring the crap out of everyone. Instead, one of the biggest bitches on the planet is hanging around and I’m still getting into fights my family has to patch up.”

“I see,” Dr. Mariah relaxed a little, unsurprised, “You know, I’ve had quite a few Luminary patients now. Especially more now that the border has opened. It’s a surprisingly common sentiment, this idea that there’s total safety, in the Dicean borders… and that there’s something wrong with the Luminary individual, that they couldn’t immediately find that safety. Many Luminaries find themselves in fights they hadn’t meant to get into, or in danger they hadn’t seen coming, in their first few months in Dicea. Too many people blame it on Luminary nature.”

“I think, though, that you should consider why you ended up in danger here, in this frame of mind,” Dr. Mariah said, “In the town you grew up in, you were probably safer there than you had been anywhere else in your life. Which means you could probably tell me, confidently, all the ways it wasn’t safe. Yes? Rivers you had to watch out for. Neighbors you couldn’t trust. What store would give you a discount and which ones hike their prices?”

On one hand, there was something…morbidly nice hearing that he wasn’t the only person royally fucking up their second chance. But on the other…

Mariam clenched his jaw. “...I’m not stupid. I knew something was going on. I don’t always just jump to violence to solve everything. I tried to leave. Practically told them straight out I was uncomfortable and I…” Mariam’s expression twitched as he got stuck on the word again, before he clenched his eyes shut and bit out, “And. Lauriam. Was. Scared. So. Marluxia. Was. Heading. Out. I didn’t want to fight them, but I wasn’t about to let myself get tied up in a damn fortified bunker again.”

He huffed. “...and knowing all that stuff in my hometown didn’t matter in the end anyway.”

“You understand my point then. Perhaps you didn’t recognize something was wrong, but again, Luminaries tend to put too much faith in Dicea’s reputation and not enough faith in their own gut instincts. You can’t call it a personal failing that it happened. It’s a social pressure that you’re still struggling to navigate here,” Dr. Mariah said, though she noted the bitterness in discussing his hometown. 

Probably something there. Same thing that was causing the crisis? Maybe… 

“Did something happen in your hometown?” Dr. Mariah asked.

What was he supposed to have done, then? Back out immediately? Just ignore the incredibly suspiciously starving people in a city where that should’ve been impossible?

It was unfair, because Mariam couldn’t possibly expect Dr. Mariah, a stranger, to know, but the dull look he gave her was a bit disparaging. “Got stalked, kidnapped, and my sister got murdered. It’s how I ended up at the factory.” 

(And that was the thing that stood out in Mariam’s mind, but there had been a lot of other things that had made him struggle in Romeliad. The poverty his family had struggled under, the bullying and fights he’d been involved with, the dwindling influence of his parents. His sister nearly being raped. But other than lessons he took from those things, they weren’t exactly things he thought were that important. Or wanted to think about at all.)

“I imagine that wasn’t a daily experience,” Dr. Mariah said, frowning, “Though, I do know similar horrors were daily experience for you. It seems you’re someone used to tragedy haunting you.”

“More like a roommate than a spector,” Mariam grumbled, though the word did lift his spirits enough for a small smile. “Though I do prefer our Spector.”

Joke just for him. What a comedian. 

“A little nosy twerp recently took a look through my life and her summation was ‘absurdly tragic’, if that puts it into perspective,” Mariam said, shrugging lightly. “Things are better, but it’s hard to say they’ve been looking up since getting out of the factory anyway. A second chance I keep fumbling.”

“In what sense?” Dr. Mariah asked, “There seems to be a lot of self-blame and guilt over your attack. You do understand you were being hunted deliberately. Avoiding one manipulation would not have stopped their hunting, they would have tried something else. You’re not responsible for being targeted and harmed.”

Mariam made a small frustrated noise. There were a few aborted attempts at speaking, and for a short moment he could only manage a soft, “Shut up, shut up!” under his breath. Though, in another breath, he moved onto something else, just…leaving the initial question, or how he’d wanted to answer it. 

“It’s not just that,” he let out a frustrated sigh, before gesturing to himself, “It’s this. I’m either doing some weird shit in the mindscape no one’s ever seen before, or I’m getting hurt, or sick, and,” something fierce flashed through Mariam’s expression, “I don’t care if that’s just how it has to be, I don’t want this to just be a normal to adjust to! It doesn’t matter how much my family loves me, it doesn’t change that I--uuugh!”

With the frustrated grunt, Mariam ran a hand through his hair, getting his fingers tangled, as his mind hitched on the conflicting feelings inside him. 

“... try slowing down,” Dr. Mariah said gently, “This isn’t a race, and I have no particular time limit that I imagine you’ll hit. We have time to think these feelings through. Try again.”

Mariam let out a huff, before taking a deeper breath, dropping his hand. Something irritated going through his expression, before it softened with fatigue. “It’s not that I don’t know how I feel. I have no damn problem expressing myself.” 

(And he was saying that sincerely, regardless of how truthful it was.)

“It’s… It’s like…” Another huff. “If I could talk easily as myself, I’d be talking over myself. But with one mouth it’s like everything I think is the dumbest shit ever and it’s not right, even though I want to say it. So I can’t.”

“This is so stupid,” Mariam grumbled, “Maybe I wasn’t yearning to be - to get - t-to be both again, but however unhappy I was, being like this is worse. I can’t think.”

“Were you unhappy?” Dr. Mariah asked, “Being Lauriam and Marluxia?”

“Yes,” Mariam said, before immediately scowling and scoffing, “No? It’s - It’s com - it’s so maddening simple that - but it’s not--!!”

Mariam shivered uncontrollably--

And Marluxia bit out a furious glare, “What do you mean it’s complicated? You can be happy sometimes but you’re the most miserable fuck in the damn world!”

“It’s not that simple!” Lauriam insisted, “Maybe I get down but I have good reason t… Mars?” Lauriam’s eyes widened in astonishment as he cut himself off, feeling the same surprise in a poignant silence within himself. Before a shuddering breath of relief fell out of him as he hugged himself. Feeling Marluxia press back into him. 

“Mmm,” Dr. Mariah hummed, tapping at her notebook and tasting the air. “I imagine it’s easier to have a conversation between yourselves like this. But, as happy as I am that your fusion has eased… it does seem like an important disagreement. I’d like to keep exploring it, when you’re ready.”

Lauriam let out another shaky breath before he nodded, though he mumbled, “I’m not sure how much there is to g--”

“Oh don’t even start,” Marluxia scoffed, dropping his arms like he was casting off the position with the same disgust as a drenched sweater. Though, he straightened and narrowed his eyes at Dr. Mariah, looking her over. “Therapist is the brain doctor thing everyone’s been talking about for a while.”

Pointing to himself, Marluxia declared, “This guy is the muckiest, most sad-sap sucker on the planet. There’s a whole ton of history I don’t have the time to get into, but long-story short, I didn’t exist for a little while, and you know the reason I came back?” Even as Marluxia forcefully said each word in his usual way, there seemed to be a groan under them. “La-La was trying to have someone be accountable for making sure he didn’t go and off himself. We didn’t run into those nega-munching weirdos even sooner because he’s so fucked up over everything we got sick even trying to leave the castle.”

While every word was just as ranty as the last, as Marluxia leaned forward, there was something truly tired in the shadows under his eyes. “He is miserable all of the time, and no amount of good things happening where he does feel okay ever changes tha--”

“I’m FINE!” Lauriam hissed, squeezing his eyes and fists closed. 

Dr. Mariah tapped at her journal… “Lauriam, I’m going to ask you something that, unfortunately, tends to be what most of my patients consider the most frustrating question I could ask. But I want you to bear with me. I ask for reasons.”

“What does the word ‘fine’ mean to you?” Dr. Mariah asked. “Definition and concept.”

Though he could feel Marluxia’s glare, Lauriam untensed his body with a slow breath when it was clear he was still up front. Grimacing lightly as he grazed over his side injury. Ow… 

“Not needing anything extra than what you already have,” Lauriam said in another sigh, trying to calm himself down from the outburst. “You can get by. I don’t… I know I’m not doing okay sometimes. I can recognize evidence when I see it,” he grumbled, “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy, or that I’m unhappy as myself. I’m free, my family’s the safest they’ve ever been even if we’re separated, I have a functioning lovelife that doesn’t make me feel like crap, I have a future that’s not just dying in a torture box. I’m happy about those things.”

“I see,” Dr. Mariah nodded, “Is everyone in your family fine?”

Lauriam shrugged tiredly. “They’d probably be more fine if I stopped getting hurt. And I think Ienzo would be happier almost anywhere but NGP. But for the most part, I think so. I’m sorry if I can’t express the scale right to you, Dr. Mariah, but we’ve had an unthinkable amount of improvements to our lives over the past year. All this is way better than some of us could even dare to hope.”

Marluxia scoffed softly. “Even’s getting in your damn head. We shouldn’t just settle for better, we should get what we actually want.”

“How is Even doing?” Dr. Mariah asked, “He was very cross with me, when I met him. Is he the violent type? He seemed very eager to confront your attackers. Is that a common reaction for him?”

It was unclear whose squinting grimace it was, that was a response to the question. 

“He’s fuckin’ pissed we got hurt,” Marluxia muttered.

Lauriam sighed softly. “He’s…sort of our leader, though calling him that feels weird. But whenever there’s trouble or we need to work on a big decision, we always turned to him and Aeleus. So he takes that responsibility pretty seriously. He never saw a point in fighting back against the supervisors, but here?” Lauriam shrugged. “...there aren’t rules we know, here. I always knew he wasn’t as defeated as he always said.”

“But I wouldn’t really call him violent,” Lauriam clarified. “Likely to pinch your ear, or do freaky lab experiments, sure, sure, but he hardly put any effort in when we’d do sparring tournaments.”

“I think he always wanted to do shit to the supervisors,” Marluxia admitted, “But he never wanted that shit to blow up back on the rest of us. Though Vexen did stab Isa.”

Lauriam frowned. “That wasn’t violent, though. Even if I still don’t know why on earth he ever agreed to it…”

Dr. Mariah nodded at that. She was trying to get a read on what their home situation was, and what they thought of it. ‘Leader’ was an interesting word for an older man who so clearly had worried about them, but even Lauriam when he had said it had admitted the word felt wrong. Also, she was fairly certain when the two were combined, ‘Uncle Even’ had come out easily. But now it was just ‘Even’.

Mostly, Dr. Mariah was trying to get a sense of why Lauriam’s definition of ‘fine’ was ‘not need more than you already have’. It was a definition that worked, in the right context… but Lauriam only had more than he used to. He didn’t have much, as far as Dr. Mariah was aware. His family still trying to find stability in a strange new country, all in temporary lodgings, with what they could carry on their backs their major possessions in the world. 

Maybe that was ‘fine’. But the man that lived in his head with him said Lauriam was miserable, with brief moments of happiness. So Dr. Mariah was willing to bet that his perception of ‘fine’ was skewed. And she was trying to work out if that perception was coming from his family, as she continued, “Even’s a bit of a defeatist? Could you elaborate?”

Lauriam frowned, his eyebrows arching up slightly. “He’s a very ‘don’t fight losing battles’ kind of guy. He was talking to me recently about how he sincerely hoped that we’d all be so emotionally crushed that we’d never even dream about escape, or what was out in the world. It was way before my time, but Aeleus planned out this really elaborate escape plan, and the idea I always got from the story was that it almost worked…but not enough to have any real hope about it. My uncles fought a ton about it, and someone died in the attempt… I think that…did something to Uncle Aeleus. Though, they are married, so I don’t think there are hard feelings over their disagreement over the attempt now.”

Marluxia shrugged with a small smirk. “He’s protective, and especially over Ienzo and Zexion. Close with the other Old Guards too. Seeing all of us get hurt all the time and never being able to do anything about it fucks a guy up. It’s bad for all of us, but I think that group is pretty shit at taking Rule Number One to heart.”

“Rule number one?” Dr. Mariah asked, as she considered Aeleus next. Another person in the family broken down by wanting something more than he had. To the point of getting what she could only assume by that point was a friend killed. That was two adults in Lauriam’s life now that had been afraid of wanting growing up.

“One: nothing the supervisors do is your fault,” the Garden Duo recited, “Two: everyone here is on your side.”

As Lauriam opened his eyes, his expression softened. “It was one of the first things Dilan ever said to me, and what we tell all the newbies. Told. It was how we operated. I didn’t believe it at all at first, but as much as some of them don’t really always follow the first, it is true for how we’ve always treated each other.”

Marluxia rolled his eyes, mouth twisting with some disdain. “Apparently the whole ‘family’ thing was exclusive to us, but I don’t see how it wouldn’t get that way when ‘lifers’ means more than five years.”

“People are, as a rule, social creatures. We find connections where we can get them,” Dr. Mariah agreed, “Everyone here is on your side. That’s a kind way of expressing community protection. Not a promise to understand, or a promise to love. Just a promise that if it’s you versus someone else. They choose you. It comes off as one of Luminary’s more gentler philosophies, considering the similar sentiments I’ve heard expressed in other patients.”

“But I also imagine with that promise comes a sense of burden. Caution,” Dr. Mariah observed, “If the people closest to you will take your side, right or wrong? That makes it very important that you don’t pull them into unnecessary conflicts. I imagine that weighs on someone, to be protected in that way.”

Lauriam nodded a bit, but his wince at the mention of ‘burden’ was obvious. Though his grimace as he looked down afterward wasn’t much more subtle. 

“Necessary, unnecessary, who cares?” Marluxia scoffed. “If they get pulled into my bullshit, it just means I’m there for their bullshit too. Everyone being on my side means I’m on their side, which means we always have the winning hand. And there was never anything unnecessary in the factory. That goes into rule one. They fucked with us every chance they got, it never mattered how you acted or what you did. That’s why we have a unified front against those fucks.”

Lauriam nodded again with all that, though there was a hesitance in his expression. “...I kinda talked about this with my little brother recently. He basically said that…even if I am a burden, I’m one that my family’s happy to put up with because we’re family.” His eyes lowered more. “...but it does feel like I’m a burden people have to put up with more often. Ira and Marluxia said that even if that’s true I’m still providing enough that there’s a reason people like being around me, but that’s hard to feel true sometimes anyway.”

“Who wants to put up with someone that’s broken all the time anyway?” he grumbled.

Though almost right away Marluxia scoffed, “Darling, I think the seizures are some of the last things the others are bothered by. And that’s the only thing I’ll accept you saying that’s broken.”

“Acceptance is one thing, but it’s important to understand the mindset we’re rejecting in someone,” Dr. Mariah cautioned Marluxia, “If… Lauriam–” she was guessing, “--is struggling with concepts about himself that feel ‘broken’, we should hear them out for what that means to them. It might feel ‘false’, but it’s real to Lauriam.”

“He isn’t though!” Marluxia snapped, glaring at Dr. Mariah. “He has the confidence of coin leaves, but getting discouraged every time something goes wrong doesn’t mean he’s broken. Being too powerful for the amount of control he has isn’t being broken. Sleeping all the time is annoying, but guess what?! It’s not being broken either!!”

Lauriam was still caught up in Marluxia’s heavy breathing, but he still managed a soft, “Thanks, Marluxia.”

Slowing his breaths with a sigh, he shrugged gently. “...sometimes it feels like I can never do anything right. I’m not good at talking to people, I don’t have any helpful skills, I lose my head and blow up a lot, and sometimes that just means that everyone has to stop and deal with my emotions, or…” he sighed, looking tired, “That they have to stop and deal with me making trouble or being in an emergency or turning into a giant monster that’s trying to kill everyone. I know all that’s not always true, but it’s hard to feel like any progress I ever make is worth anything. And especially with how many things have gone wrong since I woke back up, it’s hard to feel like I can…exist anywhere but the factory. Like I’m just too broken to be anywhere else, though I’d rather die than go back.”

“Again, it doesn’t have to be true. It’s just acknowledging that you see things that way, at least often enough that it affects you,” Dr. Mariah explained, “Our worst beliefs very rarely can be logicked away. If they can, it’s usually a process that takes years, not a day of arguing. And if a person can’t force themselves to stop believing something they know objectively isn’t true… then you have to face that problem from the perspective that it is, at least in terms of consequence, the reality of the situation. Deal with the reality in front of you first; work on changing it gradually.”

“I know you just told me, essentially, but simplify it for me. What is the problem you’re dealing with, Lauriam? Why can’t you exist in the world outside your old abusive home?”

“That’s dumb,” Marluxia grumbled, “People should just listen to me.”

How much more gradually did things need? They’d been together for 14 years.

Sighing softly, though fondly at Marluxia, Lauriam then just blinked at Dr. Mariah for a moment, trying to process the question. Trying to come up with something that would be a simple answer. 

“Be…cause nothing I do out here works, and at least I get what was going on there?”

“Nothing you did in there worked either, because you never did anything,” Marluxia huffed. 

“We’re listening, Marluxia,” Dr. Mariah said, “Do not make me get my listening candy out… mostly because I don’t think it would work in this situation specifically.”

“Um…” Lauriam made a soft, uncertain sound, before trying to {reach out}--

(He’d intended to ask if it’d be easier to talk through intent, so he and Marluxia wouldn’t have to share a mouth. It was innocent enough, and instinctual for someone who’d, by this point in his life, spoken more through intent than through verbal language.)

(But just glancing another demon’s psyche?)

Lauriam jolted enough to flatten himself against the wall, his heart suddenly speeding a mile a minute. Vine-wrapped organs flashed through his mind, his injuries suddenly stabbing in pain as if they were new, and--

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Marluxia quickly whispered, trying to speak around his quick gasps of breath, “Lauriam, we’re safe, you’re ok…wh…what the fuck…”

Dr. Mariah watched Lauriam retreat. She made no move to stop him, lifted no hand in concern. Just watched him in his sudden flash of terror. Lost in his frightened memories.

“...” Dr. Mariah opened her mouth and took a breath, before explaining softly, “That tasted like ham soaked in oranges. Something I’ve never had in Dicea, but I’ve heard is very popular in Luminary. I understand Luminaries’ fascination for coating meat in fruit. With food being as scarce as it is, sweetening protein must seem like the best of every world. Nourishing and pleasant.”

“As someone who works with trauma, I don’t have the same appreciation for meals where you can taste the nourishment in them. In that way I’m spoiled.” Dr. Mariah said, “But in theory, I can understand how comforting that must be. To eat and know it will last inside of you.”

As Marluxia fought against their body, trying to take in deeper breaths to calm them and rocking his knuckles against the inside of their wrist as a sign to try and calm Lauriam specifically, his eyes glanced up at Dr. Mariah. At first blearily confused at whatever the hell she was saying, before he caught on. 

“A-ah…so - so that’s why you know…” he muttered, before shutting his mouth tightly. Preventing any breath at all before forcing a deep one. Constantly sending soothing assurances to Lauriam. 

After a bit, Lauriam softly cringed, grimacing as he put a hand to his side, and one gently on top of the bandages around his neck. “...sorry,” he whispered. 

And after another moment, he opened his eyes, squinting at Dr. Mariah. Saying softly, “...they were visibly starving. We know what that looks like.”

“No need to apologize. A minor disruption is not worthy of guilt,” Dr. Mariah said, “But thank you. Did you hurt yourself in the retreat?”

“And, yes, I wondered if you might,” Dr. Mariah said, “Did you have pity for them, because of that? Perhaps empathy?”

“Moved wrong,” Lauriam muttered, forcing his hands down, even with the ache radiating through his body now. Though he grimaced a hesitant smile to the side. “Curiosity. I thought Mouse was just small at first, but after seeing the others, I knew something was wrong. And that kind of wrongness usually means danger, so…I kept going along. I thought they might’ve wanted to mug me, though I’ve seen how free meals work here so it didn’t make any sense.”

Lauriam’s eyes lowered. “...but nothing happened. They were just talking to me. I guess I know better now, but it didn’t seem like anything happened until I tried to leave.”

It didn’t make any sense to Lauriam for this either, but he still asked after a moment, “Is it hard for a lot of people like you to find food?”

“It can be. At the intensity we need it.” Dr. Mariah explained, “The group who hurt you had been surviving by following despair pollen junkies around. Perhaps you haven’t heard of it, but Dicea went through a drug problem in the last few years that was growing steadily worse. People were drinking poppies that essentially turned pain into pleasure, and hurt each other while on the drugs. The pain felt pleasurable, but the raw emotions of that pain were still the same ones that feed us. So that group followed those parties around and ate the pain people willingly gave each other under the effect of the drugs.”

“But over a year ago now, Dicea’s managed to get a lid on that drug problem, and the poppies are almost impossible to find now.” Dr. Mariah sighed, “And that group was not ready to deal with the fallback of that. They likely could eat little by little the normal humdrum frustrations of people around them, but over a long period of time? Without some extremely intense emotions to truly fill them? It’d be a bit like surviving on berries and water for months on end. You’re technically eating, but it’s not enough to not starve.”

“It made them a bit desperate, getting a taste of you.” Dr. Mariah said, “It’s dangerous, to pull meat from a starving man’s mouth. He will bite.”

Lauriam gave Dr. Mariah a befuddled look for a moment through her explanation--drug problem? Yikes. Probably something to let the others know, even if things were more handled now--before he frowned softly. Thinking. 

“...that’s kinda how I was trying to explain things to my family,” he murmured, still in thought, though a small smile turned up his lips, “No surprise it’s not exactly the kind of argument that’d have them extending forgiveness.”

Lauriam chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. Before he looked up. “...you said they targeted me specifically. And their reactions weren’t exactly subtle.” While serious, Lauriam did grimace uncomfortably at that. “Do you think there’d be worth in setting something up like an emotion restaurant?”

{Srrrk. Masochist.}

“An emotion restaurant?” Dr. Mariah said, tilting her head in genuine confusion, “...for us? We’re not exactly easy to advertise to… How do you mean?”

Lauriam nodded, before his eyes lidded a bit. “I get that food’s really easy to get here, but I’ve done more than enough work for free in my life. I want to be paid.” At the mention of advertising, though, he pouted slightly and shrugged. “Look, I’ve just thought of this now, I don’t know the details. But…I know I have strong emotions. It’s been a problem practically my whole life. And I absolutely know how to make myself upset.”

The pout tightened into a small frown. “...if Mouse and the others had been able to explain things to me? A few hours of big negative emotions would’ve been nothing, no kidnapping or murder attempts or coercion necessary. And I know how much starvation sucks, especially when it seems like there’s no options for you.”

“If me being in my feelings could actually do something good, rather than being an enormous problem to deal with?” Lauriam’s expression eased into something a bit softer. A little nervous. A little hopeful. “That’d…be nice.”

Marluxia smirked, huffing an amused laugh. “You said there was a specific taste. We could even offer different meals~”

“Hmmm… I’d caution that you’d need to do it carefully,” Dr. Mariah admitted, “Not from the danger of the people you’re trying to serve, but to be careful that you don’t create in yourself unhelpful coping techniques to real emotional crisis in an effort to ‘perform’ crisis for other people. Making yourself extremely emotional on purpose on command can be both extremely helpful to one’s mental well being as a form of purge, but can also establish bad habits that exacerbate the problem. Like someone who punches inanimate objects to relieve stress training themselves to want to punch things everytime they’re upset, sort of thing.”

“That said? With that caution in mind? …it’d be helpful to people struggling in my community,” Dr. Mariah admitted, “There are not a lot of easily accessible areas where high intensity negative emotions are the norm and can be counted on regularly. I’m one of the more stable setups of the people I know. Even the ones who have steady streams of negative emotions to feed on tend to go through dry spells that can last months. A place that catered to them? I can’t in good conscience entirely dissuade that.”

Lauriam nodded a little, conceding that that was a fair enough point. But, “I mean, at least right now? There isn’t anything I can do to not just sludge all over the place. I’ve tried, and nothing works, and I really doubt that well’s going to run dry any time soon. The idea I have is basically just having people nearby to benefit while I’m having a vent session that isn’t aimed at my family.”

He glanced over, giving Dr. Mariah a small, grim smile. “Good food shouldn’t go to waste, right? Especially if people are starving. And I really doubt I’m the only person who’d feel good about having some purpose for their vent sessions.”

Marluxia waved his hand with a small huff. “He’s not saying that because we have people in mind, just generally. Honestly I’m expecting half the fam to charge at us calling us nuts for even considering going near people that almost killed us again.”

“...in truth, I had been considering reaching out to some people about that group specifically, before it boiled over like this,” Dr. Mariah frowned, “Again, it’s just about doing it safely. I wouldn’t want to endorse or facilitate people emotionally self-harming. Even my therapy sessions often take specific reigning in when things become too emotional. Exploring your sadness is good, but actual anguish causes harm. Much like your fusions or, based on the examples you gave, mental distortions when you become particularly volatile.” 

“But, that said? Some people are more naturally emotional than others. They feel things fiercely. There is no ‘stopping’ those emotions, just managing them. Which one would be expected to do regardless of any monetary value to gain from it.” Dr. Mariah said, “Considering you seem to be among that rank and file? Again, caution… but I could see how it would work.”

“If you decided to keep me on as your therapist, mind you, I will not be participating in such meals. It feels like a conflict of interest to me,” Dr. Mariah admitted, “My job is to help make those emotions manageable, it’d feel a bit wrong to sit in them and not offer aid.”

Marluxia smirked. “And you just said you’re not exactly hard up for food.”

Though, Lauriam paused, looking at Dr. Mariah in confusion for a moment. “I don’t mean any offense,” he finally said cautiously, “but you’ve just been talking to me? What everyone was talking about when it came to therapy sounded more… I mean, even the two times I’ve been to healers they’ve taken blood or given me medicine. I don’t really understand what you’re doing, I guess.”

“Ah, apologies. If you don’t grow up with an understanding therapy, its explanation can be a bit… mundane,” Dr. Mariah said, placing her hands gently over each other on her lap, “My job tends to differ from patient to patient, based on what my role is for that patient and what we’re trying to work through. If you were seeing me as a psychologist? My job would be appraising you for more intense forms of rehab or medical diagnosis, prescribing you medication that might help you with feelings of depression or delusions. Some of these medications would be hormonal balances, others various types of sedatives that a patient can use on themselves to safely get through an episode without self-harming.”

Miss Crystal, for instance, was Kaito’s psychologist, not a therapist, now. She had moved on from anger management therapy to working with him on balancing medications that would help him through periods of psychotic depression. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, medicate his anger. But his obsessive compulsive episodes that kept him from sleeping at night and periods of lethargy and self-hatred that had him talking to himself to the point of delusions? That could be medicated.

“I’m not currently acting as your psychologist. Psychologists tend to need to be recommended by a therapist first, if therapy cannot help with the issues the patient is having,” Dr. Mariah explained, “My role as a therapist, right now, is to talk out with you things that are bothering you or are making your life difficult to manage, and working with you to find everyday techniques you can use for yourself to help you manage those difficulties. Some people just need a safe person to talk to about things that are upsetting them and otherwise don’t need coping techniques because they are, otherwise, coping. Other people need a great deal of assistance over a long period of time to help them with compulsions to self-destruct or self-isolate or to just not feel so bad all the time. What I currently do full time is act as a relationship therapist, where I help people in relationships find methods of communication for each other and coping techniques for difficulties found in the relationships. I do not prescribe medicine and I cannot compel you to go into any sort of rehab or facility for your own safety or others. Not unless you took me on as your psychologist.”

For the most part, while he was listening, Lauriam just looked a little overwhelmed with information. But there were a few key things. His wince at the mention of delusions. The way his eyes widened in alarm at the mention of sedatives. The little pout at the idea of therapy for relationships specifically. And what he actually commented on, just because it was the last thing--

“Wait, I thought you always had to volunteer to go to rehab,” Lauriam spoke up, looking worried, “Is that just a Luminary thing?”

Dr. Mariah shook her head. “It’s rare for someone to be forced into a rehabilitation center or medical facility, but there are reasons one would do it. They almost always involve murder. If whatever you’re on or whatever episode you’re experiencing has you actively and violently harming other people? You’ll likely be put into a rehab facility until the episode or substance safely passes.”

Lauriam gave Dr. Mariah a skeptical look. “...and that ‘facility’ isn’t just called ‘prison’?”

“We don’t have prisons, in the sense of how a Luminary would understand the term,” Dr. Mariah explained, “Nor do we have dungeons, not anymore, not in a few hundred years. Isolating or restraining someone for years was proven to be counterproductive, even if one considered it a form of punishment that could serve as ‘justice’ for a wrong. It was expensive, took excessive amounts of time, created pockets of society where the surrounding area became more dangerous to live, and even reports of victims discussing how they felt about their attackers’ imprisonment suggested it wasn’t cathartic for them as well. Worse, people who went through the prison system tended to come out of it with even less respect for other people’s safety than when they went in. Prisons just made prisoners more dangerous.”

“So we have ‘facilities’,” Dr. Mariah said, stressing it the same way Lauriam did, “that are much more temporary. They’re more about the immediate danger a person poses rather than long-term imprisonment. Once that immediate danger is past? New methods are explored to reintegrate that individual safely back into society. The only long-term ‘prison’ sentence we have is a form of isolated housing, where people who are an immediate danger to others around them consistently are put on house arrest in areas where their rehabilitation won’t put others consistently in danger around them. Even Dicea has its serial killers and serial rapists, and most long term isolation is reserved for individuals who can’t or refuse to stop those actions of harm against others.”

“So I guess if you don’t want to be imprisoned, don’t tell me if you’re either of those things.” Dr. Mariah smiled lightly. “Just as a tip.”

…what?

No prisons? Even the concept of punishment for a crime felt like it was totally dismissed in Dr. Mariah’s words. From the bits he’d heard, and the attitude of his family (mostly Even), Lauriam thought that Prince Kokichi was just trying to be diplomatic because of a ‘magic’ situation, but…if committing a crime wasn’t something that…destroyed your life?

“Of all the damn places for her to show up,” Marluxia muttered.

Almost subconsciously Lauriam shied away from ‘rapists’, though more presently he gave her a wide-eyed look and sputtered, “I-I’m not!! I may have been in a prison but not for those reasons at all!”

“I’m aware. Also, I’d argue you were not in a prison,” Dr. Mariah said, “At least not how that word is used. You were in a labor camp.”

Lauriam frowned a bit--that was a term he’d never heard before--before sighing. “Whatever you want to call it. Everyone had their preference--Dilan even told me straight out he didn’t consider us prisoners, just that we were kidnapped. Which still was true. But however you want to define it, we still were treated like we deserved to be there. Which, by the way?”

Lauriam scowled, something truly discomforted in his expression. “People willingly take sedatives here?!”

Dr. Mariah tilted her head at that a bit, tapping lightly at her notebook. “For patients that have a persistent type of psychosis where essentially sleeping through episodes as needed is the best way to navigate it, yes. There are people whose delusional episodes include strong and persistent desires to murder loved ones, because they start to believe during the episode that the loved one has been replaced by an imposter or are trapped in their own bodies. The episodes begin and end like any other episode of psychosis, and when a patient feels their mind start to fall into that trap? They can give themselves a sedative that will keep them from acting on those delusions until it passes.”

“...you have strong feelings about that,” Dr. Mariah noted, “And I noticed you mentioned a ‘her’ while considering the implications of that. I know some things are more difficult to share with strangers, especially one who was summoned here without much input from you. But my role in our dynamic is meant to be someone you can trust to talk about past abuses. I know I haven’t earned that between us yet, and again, you may decide you don’t want full time therapy.”

“But I am here to help you,” Dr. Mariah said gently, “If this is a memory you struggle with.”

Lauriam sagged against the wall. That…made some sense. He guessed. He couldn’t believe anyone would want to feel like how sedatives made you feel, but he could see how it might be better than feeling like you were going to kill everyone. Hells, he understood that position incredibly, only that the ways he’d been knocked out weren’t so chemical. Still…

“Of course I do, they used to use tranquilizers on us all the time,” Lauriam sighed, before giving Dr. Mariah a mildly confused look. He still didn’t really get what she was doing, or how it helped more than just how talking to anyone would help with something that was bothering you. But, well, she was here and they were talking. 

More uncomfortably, he half shrugged. “And ‘she’ is Orlette, the head of our supervisors. Who’s here.” Doubt and shame flickered over Lauriam’s face as he more softly added, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Dr. Mariah asked.

Lauriam grimaced, looking to the side. “I’ve…had some issues. With seeing stuff that isn’t there. But I don’t usually freak out out of nowhere, and I don’t mistake every person with dark hair for that--”

“--heinous, scum-guzzling loser of a bitch,” Marluxia growled, his hands tightening into fists. “And it’d be just fucking perfect for that piece of shit to have frolicked off to somewhere that doesn’t even have prisons.”

Dr. Mariah tapped at her notebook. Delusions or hallucinations, and it sounded somewhat explicit. A point towards recommending a psychologist, if the hallucinations were audio/visual. 

But, Dr. Mariah’s focus on trauma pulled her from the hallucinations to what seemed to potentially be a source of crisis for the boys. “You seem to have some strong feelings about this person. Regardless if she’s actually in Dicea or not, let’s explore her. Orlette, the head supervisor… I assume you mean a supervisor in the facility you were confined in. It sounds like there’s still a good deal of hostility you have, towards her. Why?”

Marluxia gave Dr. Mariah an incredulous look in his outrage, seething for a moment, but he managed to pull himself back from outright yelling at the woman who truly didn’t deserve it. “Everything that happened there, everything that was done to us, happened under her watch and approval,” Marluxia growled, “And that would just be bad enough, more than enough to hate her fucking guts! But she was the worst out of all of them!”

Lauriam crossed his arms tightly over his chest as he gave Dr. Mariah a tense look. “She liked whips and chains the most.” He hesitated for a moment before turning, lifting the back of his shirt slightly to reveal the warped line of scar tissue that went across the entirety of his lower back. “My first few weeks in, they didn’t think I was working, though all my Indentured were being conditioned. She and some of the others just slapped me around a bit, saying that I needed to work, but when I insisted I was…”

Settling back down, Lauriam looked to the side. His eyes squinting in hurt. “She taunted me about my sister’s death. Her murder. And I lost it. And because I was fighting back, she strapped me to her table and carved into me, saying that if I didn’t fall in line then e…e-everyone else would be killed because of me too. That was within my first month of being there.”

Dr. Mariah sighed a little, her expression slightly heavier. “True torture. The kind that leaves physical scars. It’s rare, for a person to go through something like that. An unnatural feeling. It’s the sort of life experience that by its very nature can ‘other’ you. I can understand why you’d be frustrated to hear about a system that would seem ill-equipped to handle the fallout of a torturer and their victim. Do you feel unsafe?”

There was clear, obvious hesitation around Lauriam. “...she can’t…do anything to us here,” he said slowly, his words conveying disbelief in them but said anyway, “If she tries to attack us, then she’s just…hurting people for a reason that doesn’t hold water here. So it’s to all of our benefit to just avoid each other.”

“...if she’s even here,” he mumbled.

Dr. Mariah nodded. “That’s true. And there are legal proceedings you can take to ensure she cannot approach you without legal consequence.”

“It can actually be fairly simple to determine if your tormentor is in the city or not,” Dr. Mariah said, “There are legal tracking of citizens, of course, if she’s here under a name you know her by. And if she’s not, detective agencies tend to specialize in finding people for largely this exact reason. Victims often end up moving, if their attackers live in the same area, and a detective agency can assure that they’re not moving to the same area as someone they’re avoiding if the attacker is also attempting to avoid them.”

“But more than that, it could be reassuring, to know if you saw what you believe you did,” Dr. Mariah said, “And if you didn’t? That’s also good to know. You can move forward, with that sort of knowledge. Do you see things that aren’t there often? How often would you say?”

It was comforting to know there was some sort of legal framework around this sort of thing, at least. Lauriam frowned softly, before sighing. “I can guess that people know something’s up, with my whole,” he waved at the notion, “freakout. But I figured that if Even didn’t mention Orlette to Prince Ouma or anyone, it was for a reason. But maybe it’d be better to bring up ahead of anything happening.”

Sighing more tiredly, Lauriam shrugged off to the side. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to keep track of if I think everything I see is real. And when some of the stuff I think isn’t real, is. Maybe once a month or something? I can make other people hallucinate, but it kind of gets out of hand if I’m really stressed out.” He shrugged again, shadows under his eyes. “Sometimes I start seeing parts of the factory when I’m freaking out.”

Marluxia squinted, something hard but also contemplative in his expression. “Yanno, I always thought it was more of a delusion type thing, but he thinks he’s dead sometimes too. Like, zombie-style.”

“Cotard Syndrome,” Dr. Mariah frowned, “Does that belief in your own death change how you interact with reality? Is it only you who doesn’t exist, or everyone else as well?”

Lauriam whipped his head up toward Dr. Mariah--owwww stop that!--offense clear on his face, before his cheeks pinked, realizing what she actually said. And in that embarrassment, he shrugged slightly with a pout. “I…I know I’m not actually dead. And no one else is, except the people that are dead.”

Marluxia rolled his eyes so hard he had to tip his head back a little, before he huffed, giving Dr. Mariah a dryly frustrated look. “Oh~ It doesn’t matter if I get hurt, or take the fall for anything, it doesn’t matter what happens to a corpse~ You seem smart enough to run that idea to some logical conclusions, in a situation that’s constantly dangerous. And that’s not even getting into the days he’s practically burying himself into his own grave.”

“I’d ask ‘figuratively or literally’, but I’m aware that’s a complicated question for an empath,” Dr. Mariah frowned, tapping at her journal, “...we, as in the people in my profession, try not to come to a conclusion like this within the first therapy session. And I won’t recommend it yet because of that, not officially… but I do feel a need to tell you, Lauriam, Marluxia, that I suspect you need the help of a psychiatrist, not just a therapist.”

Marluxia sighed exasperatedly, tipping his head back against the wall. “Look, as long as we’re not locked in a crazy house, we can take crazy pills I guess.”

Lauriam, on the other hand, looked more apprehensive. “...you hate being tranq’ed as much as I do. Even more, I think.”

“And being babysat by everyone else is better?” Marluxia scoffed.

Lauriam didn’t have anything to say to that, just looking down and to the side.

“Medication would only be one part of it. You’d still work with your psychiatrist, or a specialty therapist, to work on the day to day coping of your diagnosis,” Dr. Mariah explained, “But medication does seem like it would help some of your symptoms that you’ve been discussing.”

“And it’s good to have a goal,” Dr. Mariah said, “You sound like you don’t wish to be looked after… are you striving for independence?”

Lauriam sighed, relaxing his arms a bit in their cross as he nodded in a vague sense. “We all worry about each other, that’s just part of caring. But it’d be nice being someone my family doesn’t have to worry about all the time.” He gave a soft, grim smile to the air. “We never really discussed it as a group, but I know my parents, and Even and Aeleus about Ienzo and Zexion, worried about us being able to grow up. Knowing that we’d never be independent of them, I mean. But now we can.”

He sighed heavier, eyes lidding. “And now my little brother is off fighting legal battles on his own terms and creating solutions for world peace, and I’m bedridden for the third, fourth time in as many months and even the thought of maybe getting my own apartment feels world-shattering for how daring it is. I’d…just like to do something on my own. Even if I know it isn’t as clean cut as that.”

“It’s a good goal, and one that I don’t think is as unrealistic for you as you currently think it is.” Dr. Mariah said, “And it can be just the start of many. A lifetime of goals. Aspiring for something you want is a great motivator to manage and smooth out what you currently have. Dreams and hopes are important. They move us forward.”

“I would recommend… therapy three times a week. For right now.” Dr. Mariah said, “Whether you need more or less can be ascertained in the coming weeks, but I think the key for you here would be consistency. It doesn’t have to be me. But I would be able to take you on as a new patient, if you’d like.”

Lauriam smiled softly at that. ‘Not unrealistic’ was perhaps a very low bar, but it still felt nice to hear someone say it. It wasn’t like his family had shot down his idea at all, and the way he and Dilan had talked about it before made it seem like a forgone conclusion already, but…still. It helped. 

And he could definitely just talk, but…

Marluxia smirked, giving Dr. Mariah a playful sneer. “You know, there is something a little fun about the idea of barring you, specifically, from the buffet of a lifetime.”

Lauriam huffed a little--it was cute, that Marluxia was getting along with her--before giving Dr. Mariah a nervous smile. “I think I could do that, but… When I met Mouse, that was after days of trying to build myself up to go out. So I’m not sure how much consistency I can really promise.”

“I can and have made home visits. Though, you’ll be missing out on my fish tanks. I’ve been told they’re quite an appeal for my patients.” Dr. Mariah said, smiling lightly, “And like I said… I’m a bit spoiled for food. I know having a mental illness can feel isolating, but you’ll be far from my first or only patient who has difficulty coping with extreme emotions. You’re not my first with identity issues, trouble deciphering reality, dissociative identity disorders, for as much as that might or might not be an actual diagnosis for someone in your position. You’re not unusual, is what I’m saying.”

She paused, before confessing, “Your torture is unusual in this day and age. We’ll work through it. But you are not unusual, and you’re not beyond help. We’ll get through this. I guarantee it.”

Lauriam raised a bit of an eyebrow. It was interesting to bring up, he guessed, but…fish tanks? Uh, sure. He knew what live fish market tanks looked like, but he supposed it could be interesting to see what one kept in, what he assumed was like an office, looked like. 

Though, at her confidence and reassurance, he smiled softly. “...I think Mom’ll like you,” he decided, before glancing to the door. “It sounds like you’re wrapping up, so I’ll warn that you might want to open the door carefully. My three snoops don’t always hang around physically, but they still do do that.”

“Three snoops?” Dr. Mariah asked.

A sudden shuffling and the sound of a few heavy footsteps bolting from the door seemed to answer that question, Dr. Mariah looked curiously over to where the sound had come from, “Ah, the three teenagers. Six. Seven?” the woman sighed, “Well, I don’t approve of listening in on a therapy session, but I understand the desire. Especially for Luminaries. It almost feels like a stereotype by this point, but it’s one that I need to keep an eye on, your cultural caution of medical professionals.”

Glancing at the nightstand, she added, “Though, it seems your group is having an easier time than some, coming to trust Dicean medicine. I’m relieved. It’s good to seek help.”

“Seven,” Lauriam confirmed, giving the door a fond look, “But Xion, Roxas, and Ansem don’t tend to take snooping initiative, and there’s no point giving a warning for Namine. But I can save someone from getting bonked by a door for three of them.”

Though, he just sighed a little at Dr. Mariah’s observation. “It’s still novel to be able to seek any medical help. I can’t say I really trust some of the stuff going on, but…it is what’s happening.” Suddenly, he seemed to connect what Dr. Mariah was actually looking at, though, and a dark scowl crossed over his face. Lauriam just glaring at the bracelet.

“You seem to have some complicated feelings about that help.” Dr. Mariah noted.

“...”

“...why would you advertise a specific way someone can hurt you?!” Lauriam burst out, huffing a little. “Why would you let yourself be tagged like livestock?! When I asked before, the healers just said ‘it’s to help’, but what does that even mean, and it’s not like every freaking person on the street has a ton of medical knowledge! I-I think! Even if everyone can go to college here!”

“It’s not for ‘everyone’,” Dr. Mariah explained, “May I take a look at it?”

Picking up the band, she read it over. “This is for emergency responders. You’re likely to show symptoms that will cause other people to bring you medical help. This band tells that medical help your usual symptoms, so that they don’t have to test you for everything every time they arrive. They can just give you the aid you need right away.”

“You have seizures,” Dr. Mariah read, “When you get this updated with the local healers? You can also put your primary healer on this, and a line or two of instructions for first responders. But usually we don’t encourage that. The first thing a bystander should do when seeing a medical emergency is ensure a healer is on their way. First aid is good, professional medical response is better.”

“Who do you think could hurt you through seizures?” Dr. Mariah asked, putting the band down.

That…okay, that made more sense, but--

“They’re stress-induced seizures,” Lauriam grumbled, “Which apparently is still what happens even when they’re psychically-triggered whatever. It’s a vulnerability, it’s something an enemy can target me with, and wearing something that tells them exactly what to target, or that I have a weak spot like that just as a glance sounds insane.”

Dr. Mariah hummed a bit at that. “I can understand that. Mind you, I do have to throw in some… doubt. If that’s truly your concern about wearing this.”

She gave Lauriam a knowing look, as she said, “You are, if you recall, planning to open a ‘stress myself out on purpose’ restaurant to cater to near starving Dicean citizens. Certainly you’re not that worried about how vulnerable this symptom makes you. So what actually bothers you about wearing this band?”

Marluxia gave Dr. Mariah a dry look. “Stressing ourselves out is one thing, and not the same as someone stressing us out on purpose to incapacitate us.”

“The seizures are so stupid,” Lauriam muttered with quiet bitterness.

“So the bands don’t let you feel safe?” Dr. Mariah said, “Or do they make you feel embarrassed?”

Lauriam flushed. “Wouldn’t you?” he snapped, “Everyone gets upset, but not to the point where their brain tries to kill them. Where people can’t do crap around you because you’ll freak out so much it’s a whole event that’s just about you. Sorry I’m not thrilled to wear a sign saying how much of a fuck-up I am!”

“Medical issues have no moral component,” Dr. Mariah said, “The fact that you have seizures says nothing about you, other than that you have seizures.”

“They are when they’re my fault!” Lauriam insisted. “They happen because I can’t handle anything! It’s my fault that I can’t just say I need a second, and instead turn into a giant monster just because someone says they love me!”

“Hmm,” tap, tap, tap, “Do these moments of ‘stress’ feel like anger? Or something else?”

“Anger. Fear. Grief.” Lauriam shrugged tensely. “The usual.”

“Try to be specific,” Dr. Mariah said, “Take one incident, and tell me how you felt.”

Pick one? Oh he was flushed for choice…

Lauriam sighed and tipped his head back against the wall. “...after that first time I mentioned, where the supervisors threatened to kill the others as a way of controlling me? One of the ways Xaldin calmed me down was explaining how things worked in our factory. A lot of the rules worked against us, but one that worked for us was that we were valuable. They’d do almost anything before killing us.”

Lauriam glanced down, hurt glimmering in his eyes. “When they killed my dad… I was so scared at first, when his door disappeared. I’d never seen Mom like that, but I could only think, like…okay. Just do what she says, she’ll go find Dad and we’ll be okay. But Xaldin even mentioning the possibility that he was dead…” He let out a shuttered breath. “When I saw him, what they’d done to him… They broke their own rules. And I just didn’t care anymore.”

He clenched his jaw, the anger not uncontrollable now but still present. “I wanted to kill all of them right then and there. If Mom and Mars hadn’t stopped me, I might’ve even gotten a couple.”

“That seems like a reasonable reaction to seeing a parent die,” Dr. Mariah said, “Where is the fault in that?”

“Everyone else was seeing a friend die. Mom saw her husband die. But they were all handling it enough to not force everyone else to stop them.” Lauriam squinted in hurt. His voice hushing. “I almost lost her the chance to say goodbye. And I pushed Marluxia to the brink just to stop me too.”

“Please, like you could push me to any of my limits,” Marluxia scoffed, though his eyes were averted. Remembering enough of a conversation with Dilan that did place blame on Lauriam for that.

“Not everyone has the ability to make their pain manifest as a physical force,” Dr. Mariah reminded him, “You have to give yourself some grace on that. I am certain the others also felt grief and panic and anger. But our bodies express those feelings in, biologically, different ways. That’s not to say it can’t be managed in a way that isn’t harmful to others. But many people who seem to have ‘control’ of their largest emotions aren’t actually fighting the same internal battles as those who seem to ‘lose control’. They’re not ‘better’ for not being disruptive in their emotions. That is simply not a challenge they’re experiencing.”

Lauriam gave her a look that wasn’t so much skeptical as it was uncomprehending of what she was saying. “But they can ‘manifest pain as a physical force’. I am not the strongest Empath of us and I still wasn’t back then. I’m just the only one that freaks out like that.”

Dr. Mariah shook her head. “Your ability to make pain manifest as a physical force is no more a universal experience than someone whose reaction to anger is to inflict a physical violence onto others is a universal instinct. Most people’s immediate reaction to pain, anger, resentment, isn’t a form of violence. That is, in fact, a rare instinct. Most people have to train themselves to react violently to aggression. Not everyone needs to train themselves to do the opposite.”

“You make pain manifest through violence,” Dr. Mariah explained, “In your own unique ability to inflict violence. That is not an innate moral choice. It is your biological instinct. One you will have to cope with. One that most of the people around you are not fighting.”

There was no further enlightenment on Lauriam’s face as his eyebrows drew in more. “...actions are choices, though,” he instead combated with this time. “Sure, sure, you could argue that some use of Empathy is subconscious, but learning to use it better makes those things active choices too.”

“Certainly,” Dr. Mariah said, “And don’t misunderstand me. Saying that you’re dealing with an emotional challenge that others around you aren’t isn’t a ‘go ahead and continue hurting people’ free card. That would say something about your moral character.”

“What I’m attempting to explain is that you’re not working with the same timeline or goal posts that the people around you are,” Dr. Mariah said, before pausing, “Perhaps an example will help. In another session I’ve had with other patients, relationship counseling, one of the partners was feeling an extreme sense of guilt and insecurity because he was struggling with anger issues that his partner had seemed to have overcome by that point. He had seen his partner express anger in cruel ways a few times, but his partner had seemed to ‘find’ ways to express his frustrations in the world without hurting other people much faster than he had, and my patient couldn’t understand why he was struggling so much with something that had seemed effortless to his partner.”

“What we worked out was that the partner’s cruelty in how he expressed his anger was a learned trait, not an innate one. The partner using cruelty to try to negate his actual issues, which was a desire to self-harm. His partner relapsing wasn’t expressed by lashing out, but by withdrawing. Tell me, if you see something frightening, or upsetting, and your first instinct is to run and hide, and then you do so… did you make a choice? Did you choose not to hit, or scream, or talk it out? Or did you just follow your first instinct.”

“Most people just follow their first instinct,” Dr. Mariah said, “If that instinct causes no harm? Mostly causes no harm to other people? No one trains them or pressures them to deny that first instinct. Most people do not make ‘choices’ in emergencies. They just let their bodies react. That is where you’re at right now. You, like most everyone else, are just letting your body react. It does not say anything about you as a person that the way your body reacts is different than others. The man who reacted in violence, and was trying to tame those violent reactions, was putting more time into training himself, and comparing himself to his partner who did not react that way to begin with disrupted his ideas of how his self-training was going. Comparing is inadequate. You are not the same as the others.”

Lauriam gave her a dumbfounded look, before frowning uneasily. “...but I know it’s been an issue since I was a little kid. Even if I was working on a longer timescale, that’s still a long time to still fail at changing anything.”

Marluxia’s expression suddenly went stony as he quickly said, “He’s tried to kill himself before too, I feel like we kinda just brushed over that befor--”

“I haven’t in ages!” Lauriam hissed.

“Well, how long is ‘ages’ in this context?” Dr. Mariah asked, “And for your question of needing to change over a long period of time, well… sometimes we’re just not aware of what it takes to change something like that. It’s rarely something you can just willpower. I used ‘training’ for a reason. Most coping techniques are secretly just habits we train into ourselves over time.”

Lauriam sighed shortly, looking to the side in embarrassment. “...not since the teens came to the factory. Five, six years? Or something like that.”

“What does it take, then?” Marluxia drawled, “Everything else we’ve tried is certainly not an answer anyone wants.”

“Five or six years… still worth going over, though admittedly it doesn’t seem like an immediate crisis anymore.” Dr. Mariah said, “We’ll touch back on that in a moment. As for what it takes to establish coping techniques…”

Dr. Mariah considered her wording, before deciding on, “Consistent mild annoyance and frustration.”

“People are strange,” Dr. Mariah said, “Something we do can feel ‘bad’, yes. Terrible. Self destructive. But we often take a familiar, terrible feeling, and prefer it over new feelings of frustration or annoyance. If you pay attention to the way people react to solving their issues, you’d be surprised how universal an experience it is to do literally almost anything else to avoid feeling new ways to be annoyed or frustrated. A lot of people would literally rather die.”

“Training yourself to adopt new coping techniques or better habits? Takes a lot of new feelings of annoyance and frustration before those habits are established.” Dr. Mariah said, “If you can cope with those feelings? Almost nothing is impossible for you.”

The Garden Duo took that in quietly for a few moments, before Marluxia snorted in amusement. “Good thing you grew up with Dem-Dem, then, hm? You’re already a pro with dealing with the biggest annoyance on the planet~”

Lauriam sighed softly. “At least new frustrations will be new. And Demyx isn’t that bad,” he explained partially for Dr. Mariah’s benefit, “He’s mostly just annoying when he’s purposefully trying to be.”

“Abjectly incorrect,” Marluxia scoffed.

“Was Demyx around when you attempted suicide?” Dr. Mariah asked.

Lauriam grimaced. “...a few of the times. One was…more of an accident, than anything.”

“So this was more than one incident?” Dr. Mariah asked.

Shrinking in on himself, Lauriam mumbled, “Three, for attempts. Things that are more than just, like…wishing I were dead or something.”

“Let’s discuss the latest one,” Dr. Mariah said, “Tell me about the last time you actively tried to commit suicide.”

Did they have to? Ugh…

Lauriam hugged himself and slouched against the wall. Pursing his lips for a moment as he took a more careful look around the room, looking for little sister-shaped spaces of camouflage. He didn’t doubt that Namine or even some of the others had gotten their little nosy selves into memories that mentioned one of his attempts, but Lauriam had really tried to be better than that once they came around. And part of trying was trying to keep those stories away from them. 

But he didn’t find what he was looking for. Cooler heads than Namine having already prevailed by this point, pulling the witch away. They were alone.

…sigh. 

“...supplies were precious, in the factory,” Lauriam started softly. Shame coloring every part of him. “Everything we had, we had to negotiate for, and the supervisors could take anything away at any time. I…have a thing--”

“He’s a klepto,” Marluxia clarified flatly.

“Some of the stuff I got was pretty useless, but anything helpful? I’d always give it up to the group.” Lauriam frowned. “When I first arrived, they’d just gotten painkillers taken away, and that kind of stuck with me. Even when we were allowed them again, they never stopped feeling important.”

“...I’m not sure what they were, really. Some kind of painkiller or sedative or something along those lines was on the part of the label that was still there,” he mumbled. Eyes heavy. “I just wanted everything to stop.”

“How many did you end up taking?” Dr. Mariah asked.

“Four,” Lauriam said quietly. “It was one of those packs where every pill is individually sectioned off, and that was half the sheet. I don’t really remember what happened after, but I hated myself more for taking supplies from the group than for trying to die.”

“Because you’re a fucking idiot,” Marluxia hissed, genuine anger in the growl of his voice.

“Did the others ever find out?”

Lauriam let out a heavy sigh. “Kind of hard not to when I wasn’t waking up after work. Or, more that Marluxia wasn’t forcing our body up instead.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Mariah hummed, “...what about you, Marluxia? Were you a part of this attempt?”

“Fuck no!” Marluxia growled, the way he sat up looking almost alarmingly animated from how slouched and despondent Lauriam had been a moment ago. “I don’t want to die, I’ve never wanted to die, and I’ve had to deal with this dumbass who fills our body and head with muck thinking he’s already dead so why not just make things ‘right’ the entire fucking time I’ve been conscious as myself! The one who always picks up the pieces and deals with the consequences is me.”

“...” Dr. Mariah tilted her head a bit, “...you seem a bit more animated, Marluxia. When Lauriam is having these episodes of self-destruction, what’s happening to you? How do you feel during these periods of time?”

Marluxia glared at her. “In the factory, I was working. And since we’ve been out, and I’ve been back?” He did pause there for a moment, before huffing, letting out a tsk. “...turns out me being pissed is all the same for everything.”

“Tell me about the anger. To keep it on topic, let’s stick with the suicide attempt we’re discussing. What was ‘cleaning’ that up like?” Dr. Mariah asked.

“Making sure we didn’t die while everyone was treating this one like glass and having teary conversations,” Marluxia said bluntly, pointing to himself. “Keeping our quota up to make sure the supervisors never caught on, basically doing everything our body needed to do, in part to make sure Loseriam wasn’t about to try again. Making it clear that he doesn’t get to try to off himself because I’m not dying for him.”

“You did,” Lauriam whispered, looking close to tears, breath shaking from the physical whiplash between emotions.

“That wasn’t the same thing,” Marluxia grumbled. “And you still don’t get to die or slog around like a hermit, by the way. I’m not spending my life on the outside scared of windows.”

“...I’m not sure if this is necessary, from strictly an anger management perspective,” Dr. Mariah admitted, “But can I ask you how you’d feel, Marluxia, about my recommending you to see a different therapist from Lauriam? I know a doctor who specializes in what I would call your particular personality types.”

“More than that, it might be unwise to treat your and Lauriam’s issues as interchangeable,” Dr. Mariah said, “You may not benefit from sharing sessions with each other. It’s unfair, but one person tends to… ‘win’ these conversations, when it comes to attention and focus. The person who seems to need the most immediate care and attention can sometimes put the person closest to them in the precarious situation of attempting to compete for help from the same resources at the same time. And that often leaves one person with less.”

Marluxia was about to snap that, uh, hello? He did not have anger issues, thanks. 

But that was exactly what Dr. Mariah said, and what she continued to say about competing for resources, and how attention could be pulled all onto one person…

‘It was hard being the one people don’t have to worry about’ Dilan had said. And he wasn’t…wrong. Necessarily. 

He huffed. “Fine, whatever, it’s not like we haven’t been recommended a million things. Was that a hint for me to fuck off? I can at least go tell the others that we’re not a Marluxia-Lauriam smoothie anymore while you two talk.”

“Not necessarily. But, yes, you can separate yourself from this session if you’d like. I’m going to ask a Dr. Crystal–she prefers ‘Miss’ though–to reach out to you for a therapy session. It’s ultimately up to you if she’s a good fit or not, but she has a much different approach to therapy than I do. More than that, Lauriam, I would recommend during Marluxia’s therapy appointment? To allow him space to have it. You both share a life, yes, but you do not share the same struggles within that life. Allowing yourself the privacy you need to explore that away from each other I believe would be a benefit for both of you.”

Marluxia shrugged apathetically--sure, whatever--before he muttered a ‘bye, babe’, leaving a wide-eyed and lightly flushed Lauriam to sigh. Though, he gave Dr. Mariah a more serious nod after. “Sure, sure. I don’t really think Marluxia holds himself back on my account, or anyone’s really, but he’s entitled to his privacy as much as anyone.”

Lauriam gave a hesitant, awkward smile. “It’s just hard functionally, sometimes, when you share a head.” There was another hesitant pause. “...and he’s not wrong, or wasn’t distracting from the point. Mars does have to be the one to shoulder a lot of my struggles. Whatever we were going through at any point in the factory, our Nobodies were going through the same thing, with also having to work at the same time. They never got to take a break from anything.”

“That need to compare is largely why different therapy sessions would likely benefit you both,” Dr. Mariah said, “It’s good to acknowledge when someone has gone out of their way to help you, but counterproductive to suggest that experiencing trauma at the same time had different weight to it based on your circumstances. Even if it were true, it’s just not a helpful point of reference for the person working through the trauma. Pointing out you had it better than someone else is the cotton candy of coping techniques. Seems nice, seems pure. Entirely empty of anything of value.”

“That said,” Dr. Mariah said, resting her chin against her palm, “You have more than a few concerning issues that likely need immediate attention. To summarize what I’ve learned in an hour: you’ve had multiple suicide attempts, have active hallucinations, violent outbursts, consistent depressive episodes, frequent delusions, including the belief in your own death. And on the physical side of all of that, you have stressed-induced seizures, your body is recovering from years of physical torture, you’re likely suffering from more than a few different forms of malnutrition, and you’re sharing a mind and body with another person, which likely complicates everything just mentioned.”

“And that’s just what has immediate urgency,” Dr. Mariah said, “I’m certain there’s more. Is there anything I’ve missed that I should be immediately aware of?”

Well…well, sure. Just because Marluxia had to deal with more didn’t necessarily mean that everything he had to deal with was worse. But if Lauriam couldn’t compare the two of them, who could he compare to?

As Dr. Mariah went down the list of everything she’d picked up from talking to him, Lauriam grimaced and wilted more and more, coloring from just how…extensive it all was. Nothing surprising to him, of course, but it was just embarrassing to hear it all together. 

And it wasn’t even everything. 

“Uh…” he said softly, not really wanting to add to it, but, “I was kind of asleep for almost a year, recently, so that’s been a whole thing, and I kinda of sent myself into a coma right after it that I don’t think I’m fully recovered from yet. And you mentioned you had a focus on relationships so, uh… I’m in a new one, if that’s worth mentioning. Just met my biological mom again after almost 20 years. Um…”

Lauriam frowned. When talking about Orlette, he hadn’t wanted to bring up his family’s trauma, and he still didn’t really want to do that now. But… “And you mentioned dealing with addiction, right? Do…you have any advice for someone who’s trying to get out of a pretty serious one?”

Tap, tap, tap, “Plenty. Are you trying to get out of a serious addiction?” Dr. Mariah asked, still trying to figure out what had the most immediate urgency. Still probably the delusions of being dead, honestly. That sort of symptom put him at the most immediate risk of self-destructive tendencies. As for the coma, “Have you checked in with a new healer since you’ve arrived here? You need a primary doctor. Urgently.”

“Not me,” Lauriam mumbled, before giving Dr. Mariah a confused and slightly wary look. “You saw me in the hospital.”

“I saw you getting emergency care,” Dr. Mariah said, “You need a primary healer. Someone who does a full checkup with you, regularly sees you, creates follow up appointments with specialty doctors. Do you have that?”

He gave her an increasingly bewildered look. “...no? Look, we were told that medical care is free here, but do people really do that?”

“Many people don’t, but that’s mostly because most people don’t worry about their health until something is wrong,” Dr. Mariah said, “You have many things going wrong. If you’d like, I can bring it up with you uncle before I leave today that he needs to set up an appointment for you with a healer for a full checkup. In truth, everyone in your group probably needs it, but you need it urgently.”

“I mean…sure. I gave the papers the clinic in Grasmere gave me to Aeleus before anyway,” Lauriam mumbled, before getting another wary look. “Urgently? I’m not dying.”

“Did you get any medical care while you were in a coma?” Dr. Mariah asked.

Lauriam sighed, eyes lidding with fatigue. “We moved in with one of Ienzo’s bosom buddies because I made everyone fuck up the tavern we were staying in. It had actual beds.”

“Beds are good. Medical care is better.” Dr. Mariah sighed, “Lauriam, I am aware that when I say this that you have no context for what a baseline should be due to your personal history, but let me make this very clear: your environment and physical health have massive effects on your mental health. There is no symptom you have that has not been actively made worse by the physical strain your body has been under, or the environmental stress of being trapped and then essentially homeless for most of your life. If we’re going to make any progress on your mental illnesses? We need to work on your physical health as well. One cannot improve with improvement to the other.”

“You need a full physical and follow up appointments with a healer. You need a consistent and stable living environment. Once those two things are under control? Everything else will be significantly easier to work on.” Dr. Mariah said, “Including your violent outbursts towards your loved ones.”

It wasn’t as if all that was entirely foreign to him. The Old Guard had been very clear and concerned with everyone’s mental health and keeping it up because they cautioned that their living situation was so bad that doing everything you could not to slip into total despair and insanity was a must. And in less extreme situations, his mom had talked a lot about the balance of a healthy body and a healthy mind when she passed on some of the philosophy of fighting. 

(It wasn’t to downplay the harm he’d done to others. But…just maybe? It wasn’t a surprise how much Lauriam was struggling, when you considered his life.)

Lauriam was quiet for a good bit, before he softly nodded. “...okay. Working on the living situation was what we came here to do, anyway. That was the plan from the beginning. I can…figure stuff out to see a healer.”

“Again, I’ll talk to Even about it. You have a support network, now is the time to utilize it,” Dr. Mariah said, “...and I’ll ask Prince Kaito to follow up on it. He’s intimately aware of the process of setting up doctor appointments and finding specialties and scheduling therapy appointments. He can go over with your family that process, so that the learning curve won’t delay your healing.”

More than that, Dr. Mariah was confident if she put Kaito to the task, all of this, including Marluxia’s therapy appointments, would be set up by tomorrow, regardless of how skeptical or cautious Even might feel about it. Kaito bulldozed past those sort of things, especially if he was assured the task had importance. 

Lauriam nodded again--when did he not use his support network, for real…--before his mouth twisted. A small tsk leaving him at the mention of Kaito, though he didn’t object to anything. 

Instead, he simply leaned forward in a bow, and said, “Thank you for your expertise, Dr. Mariah.”

“Of course,” Dr. Mariah said simply, “...it doesn’t seem urgent enough to get into today. But I do have to ask. You said you started a new relationship?”

As he carefully straightened, Lauriam nodded, a softer smile gracing his face. “Xaldin, Dilan, Marluxia, and I have had A Thing between us all for years, but we’ve only really solidified it recently.” Lauriam let out a small, sheepish laugh. “Honestly, I’m relieved that we weren’t stuck together all the way until that couple’s holiday that’s coming up. We’d’ve had to work around a few plans.”

“...Marluxia?” Dr. Mariah clarified.

Lauriam sighed softly. “...look, I know. But it is what feels right. We’d both been dating Xaldin and Dilan together before that, but Ira pointed out that how we felt about each other within that relationship was more than ‘the other guy who’s dating my boyfriends’...a-and more than ‘the friend that also lives in my head with me’. I don’t really care if it’s weird, it’s just how I feel and I can’t help that.”

“Apologies if I sounded judgmental. It’s just worth noting.” Dr. Mariah explained, “Often aspects of relationship therapy include a firm understanding that the people involved in that relationship are still separate people with seperate lives that individually need maintenance and nourishment that needs to come from outside of the relationship. Dating someone who quite literally shares a life with you requires a more nuanced way of applying that process though.”

“Xaldin and Dilan…” Dr. Mariah recognized the two names, from the game. But, “They’re not in Dicea, yes?”

His hackles hadn’t exactly been raised, but Lauriam did calm a bit at the apology. “It’s alright. I think I’m a little too used to my relationships being judged, so sor…um, thanks for the patience with me if I jump right to that assumption.” Lauriam smiled softly. “And it is its own thing, but Marluxia definitely has a life separate from me. It’s a little different now, but still deeeefinitely true.”

Though, Lauriam sighed a bit wistfully at the other reminder of reality. “Yeah, they’re still in Luminary. Long-distance is easier for us than most people, but it’s still not great. I can’t wait for everyone to get over here.”

“Is there any immediate urgency’s with your relationships that we should go over? Otherwise, it might be wise to leave that to one of our appointments this week.” Dr. Mariah said.

“Not urgency, no,” Lauriam confirmed, before smiling sarcastically. “More of just an ever-present ‘I miss them’, but that’s not really urgent either.”

Dr. Mariah nodded, “We’ll leave that be for now then.” Dr. Mariah stood up, smoothing out her dress, “Now, I’m prepping to leave. Would you feel more confident doing your first true appointment with me tomorrow or the day after?”

Lauriam looked a little surprised to even have the choice, so he hesitated for a moment before giving Dr. Mariah a sheepish smile. “...perhaps the day after. Might give me enough time to psyche myself up to leave the castle.”

“Not strictly necessary, but alright.” Dr. Mariah agreed, bowing her head lightly to Lauriam, “Get some rest. It’s all going to be fine.”

And then she headed off.

-

They had actually committed fairly closely to the five minute estimate, and by the time Ienzo and Demyx had gotten off the floor and had gotten ready for the day, it was still pretty early. Definitely not cutting it close for having travel be iffy out to the edges of the city. 

So Ienzo didn’t think the slight hesitance hidden behind Aerith’s professional veneer when they talked to her about wanting to take a trip outside of the castle was about that. And he didn’t know what to think at all about her politely insisting on being their guide out to other districts. 

But, well, he wasn’t about to make a fuss over it. 

It’d taken a few hours to get out to the Dredge, and, predictably, nothing really rang a bell to Ienzo. At least until they came to…

He let out a small sigh, seeing the building come into sight. 

Sunny-Side Orphanage, not actually named for the egg-style of cooking, was one of the sectioned off sides of a multi-purpose series of buildings circled and stacked on top of each other to create tale, winding allies and roads, multiple cross-building pathways, and most importantly for resident buildings in what was fundamentally a non-residential area, an almost insulated series of city blocks that supplied the markets and goods and services the mishmash of people living on top of non-resident areas needed to survive. 

Due to its location at the edge of the city, the orphanage was allocated to be on the second, third, and fourth layers–areas slightly too expansive to simply be called ‘floors’--of the buildings it had been expanded onto, with a market being the base layer on the first floor. Below, where the desert began, the orphanage had a view of a playground and playfield that had been built over time by the locals, and otherwise had a view of the long horizon of the empty desert ahead. 

Sunny-Side Orphanage had been built on the sunny side of the buildings. While that meant it could get very hot during the day, it had also meant that to the children who lived there, it could often feel like they had a whole world's worth of room to grow and run around in. The desert ‘theirs’ in a way that the rest of the city at their backs was not. 

It also encouraged a level of privacy that invited a lack of scrutiny from their neighbors, as if one didn’t want to interact with the orphanage itself, there was no pressing need to go to the other side of the market at its base, nothing past it but the desert to invite foot traffic. 

A building that both offered little joys to its young residents, while keeping them out of sight and out of mind for the people who did not want to think about young children being groomed for the Indentured Program and lifetimes of servitude, Sunny-Side had been both prison and home for a lot of children over the decades… but had was the key word of the moment. 

The orphanage had been emptied of its residents when Maki Harukawa had made a demand for every child within it a year before. While more orphans could have been moved from other orphanages to fill the space, Kaede had decided on caution to leave the building empty. Maki had a complicated relationship not just with the orphans she herself had personally known, but a sense of loyalty to any orphan who came from said building. Filling it with more children could potentially invite Maki to make more demands, based on how she classified who was and wasn’t a sibling.

So, for a year now, the orphanage had been left empty and abandoned. Covered in signs that children had been there one moment and left the next. Paper-mache decorations decorating the balcony gates, drawings done in paint and chalk still on the walls, if faded by time and weather now. There was still a tapestry that falsely advertised the building as a place to come either adopt children, or buy contracts.

Demyx whistled as the group climbed the staircase up past the market level, to the large outside patio area of the orphanage, looking with a grimace at the tapestry advertising indentured contracts. “That is… grim. That’s grim, right? That that’s literally on the front door? The font drawing is literally bigger than the adopting one.”

“It certainly showed priorities.” Aerith agreed, looking around, “I was too old to stay here long, but I was processed as an Indentured here before going off to my first contract. Somehow, it’s bigger than I remember it being. Maybe because there aren’t a ton of kids here anymore.”

“There was a certain amount of pride among some of the kids,” Ienzo softly recalled, eyes tracing the decorations and drawings left behind. “Some aged out of more specialized positions, but quite a few tested into them. It was something to boast about, that so many expensive contracts came from here.”

“At least when Big Sis wasn’t around to hear it.” He smirked shallowly. 

Though he gave Aerith a curious look. “You were a Sunny-Side kid too?” A wonder she had never been given to him, then. 

The building actually looked a little smaller to Ienzo than he remembered, but he supposed that made sense, considering his own memories were from the perspective of a 7-year-old. Hopefully that size difference wouldn’t be too much of a hindrance. 

Going to the corner of the patio, Ienzo looked up, searching for a moment.

“I was just turning thirteen,” Aerith explained, smiling thinly, “Just hit the cut-off point of being ‘opted into’ the Indentured Program by the orphanage. They had already signed me up to get shipped out to my first conditioning by the time I arrived here.”

“That’s a bummer. If your parents had died just a few months later, you’d have been in the clear!” Demyx noted, kicking a small red ball into the patio gate, watching it bounce back and catching it, “...uh, sorry for your loss!”

“It was a long time ago,” Aerith said dismissively, “And it was my mother. Never knew my father. For all I know, he’s still alive.”

“Tsk. Deadbeat.” Demyx said disapprovingly.

Aerith laughed lightly at that, before watching Ienzo, “You seem like you’re looking for something specific, Lord Ienzo.”

“Can never say they weren’t efficient about it,” Ienzo muttered. For all the ways the orphanage had distinctly not cared for its orphans, everything involving career track testing, contract filing, and factory transport was deadly efficient. Luminary needed its workforce, after all. 

Ienzo had murmured his condolences as well, but he continued his search as Aerith and Demyx talked. “That’s because I am. It’s unlikely to still be here after all this time, but a friend of mine had cautioned me to hide my belongings before we went to the warehouse. I’d figured that hiding it right in front of the building was one of the more unlikely places for the caretakers to find it.”

“But I think…” Getting up on the side of the patio wall, Ienzo reached his left hand up into a hidden crack in the upper wall, using it to brace his balance before… “...damnit.” 

As he reached his right arm up, it stopped parallel to his shoulder. Ienzo unable to reach above his head.

Easily, anyway. 

Taking a deep breath, Ienzo forced his arm up higher, a few of his fingers twitching from spasms, but he was just able to cross over and touch…

There was a soft, small smile as Ienzo dropped back onto the ground, looking at the small cameo in his palm. The mirrored backing cracked and tarnished, and some of the metal rusting, but Ienzo’s expression could only be looking at a thing of beauty.

“No way, did you find it!?” Demyx called, lighting up as he saw Ienzo fussing lovingly with something, “Congrats Button!”

Demyx glanced at Aerith, who was looking at him, before saying, “Lord Button! Oh man, can I see?” Demyx asked, hurrying over, endlessly curious. 

Ienzo absent-mindedly tried to shake out his arm as he nodded, holding the cameo out for Demyx to see. “I think I might be happier that my hiding place held out for all these years. I never really thought I’d find it again. But…here we are. It makes me wonder how many other hiding spots around the building still have things in them, though I wonder if the last generation of kids had been given enough of a warning to get their things before leaving. I was a little more focused on Maki saying they were safe when she mentioned it.”

Aerith moved closer in that light-footed, easy way she had about her where she was both clearly visible, but you hadn’t realized how close she was until she was almost right alongside you, peeking at what Ienzo held in his hands. As Demyx oo’d and aww’d, Aerith asked, “A cameo necklace. Who of?”

“Actually, that’s a point!” Demyx said, looking up at the orphanage building, “There might be stuff here that we could potentially bring back, right? Things a kid might miss, like a toy or something? We should take a look!”

“Bring back where?” Aerith asked.

“...oh! Uh, well,” Demyx sputtered, looking at Ienzo. Realizing in that moment he didn’t know if their plans to leave the country was a secret or not. “I mean, like, by… mail??”

“Kristi Agate,” Ienzo answered, lightly smiling in amusement. “The mystery author. Her books were my mom’s favorites so she got a cameo necklace of her as a gift I think when she was a teenager. She thought that was more fun than having a cameo or a locket for a personal loved one.”

Ienzo had been thinking along those lines, before looking between Demyx and Aerith for a moment. “We’re not planning on staying in the capital after the case closes,” he decided to answer, “And we have some contacts in Dicea. If things work out, we could very well arrange for keepsakes to return to their owners there.”

“Oh, I know that author,” Aerith smiled lightly, “I’ve read her detective series. Your mother had excellent taste, Lord Ienzo, those are classics.”

“Yeah, he got his smarts honestly,” Demyx smirked, before grinning up at the building again, “Alright! I’ll go in and see if there’s any more treasures I can find–”

“We might want to be cautious, squatters could have moved in at some point.” Aerith said.

“--I will search the perimeter! The, the outside bit! The playground!” Demyx said in a ‘aha’ moment, looking down at the playground at the foot of the desert, “There aren’t neighborhoods around here, that place was probably only used by the kids here, right? I’ll go double check the area around the playground, see if there’s anything obvious buried.”

{You have all their memories locked away somewhere, Bitty Button! Mind doing a quick search to see if anyone buried anything at the playground??}

{...}

{...I can check. I’ll look for any within the building too, though anything past when they went through the factory, namely the days leading up to leaving, we don’t have.}

“Sounds good,” Ienzo affirmed, glancing back at the orphanage. “I don’t exactly want to put squatters out, but I think I’ll look around a little to see if anyone’s here. Regardless of the ability to buy new things, old belongings have a sentimental value that can’t be quantified.”

He bowed lightly to Aerith. “Please don’t feel the need to search with us, Miss, as you’re already extending your duties by escorting us here.”

Aerith smiled pleasantly, clapping her hands together, “With all due respect, m’lord? If you die on my watch, it’ll be my head~ so I think I’ll come in with you.”

Aerith giggled lightly at this, took a small, metal baton looking thing off her waist, and with a click of a button, it expanded into a long metal staff roughly the size of herself. Bowing sweetly to Ienzo, she headed inside first. 

“She’s scary, in a really pretty kinda way,” Demyx noted, before giving his boyfriend a bright smile, “Good luck!”

That was fair. As much as some people might celebrate his death, and it might be a stress the queen would no longer have to consider, Aerith would be made the scapegoat. He’d try not to give her any trouble. 

“It’s no small feat, being a castle correspondent,” Ienzo noted, before giving Demyx a smile. He leaned in to press a quick kiss to Demyx’s cheek. “Good luck.”

As he headed into the orphanage, he squeezed his shoulder lightly. That…hadn’t been great for it. But he’d likely still be able to perform some takedowns if it came down to it.

…Ienzo glanced up, smiling lightly at the cord he could just about see in the light from the open door. Looked like it was dismantled now, but a notification system to the dorms for the front door opening. Cute.

There was even more of a strange familiarity that came over Ienzo than he had experienced looking at the outside of the orphanage. Friends with Maki, he of course had spent a lot of time on the playground, but especially before their auspicious friendship, he’d spent most of his time indoors. So seeing places on the walls where there were still visible outlines of something, kids’ drawings that at least had been scrubbed away from the entrance hall, a bit of the corner worn away from where generations of children had peeked around, the front desk, now abandoned, but having had countless raids from curious minds…

It wasn’t just his own memories that were familiar. 

Aerith’s boots clicking as she looked up and around the domed ceiling of the front lobby, sunlight managing to peek through the ceiling windows that had been covered and caked with sand, no one around to wash them down anymore. “Hello?” she called out, pausing to listen for sounds of movement.

When nothing happened, she looked at Ienzo and shrugged, before wandering to the front desk. There was a layer of dust on everything, but Aerith ignored how the dust coated her fingertips as she opened up a large book laid left on the desk, “Oh. Someone left a ledger.”

It was a ledger of who came in and out of the orphanage. Deliveries made, visitors, children checking in or checking out. Aerith idly turned a few of the more recent pages, noting government officials coming in and out frequently in the last month that anything had been written at all–likely everyone trying to work out what the hell to do now that the Reaper had made the orphanage part of the civil war treaty. Aerith raised an eyebrow to see one such visit had been King Byakuya himself. Checking the date of when the children left, Aerith realized, “Oh… I hadn’t realized Sunny Side had been emptied by King Byakuya. By the time I had heard about it, Queen Kaede had taken over. I had assumed she had sent them to Maki Harukawa. As a favor for winning them the war.”

Aerith, absentmindedly, flipped hundreds of pages over. Years were kept in the massive ledger, decades. Aerith wasn’t surprised to see, throughout the pages, frequent records of Maki Harukawa and Prince Kaito visiting. 

“I imagine you know all about these stories though, my lord. It’s hard to be familiar with this orphanage and ignorant to the Reapers fixation here.” Aerith smiled lightly, closing the book. “I always heard all about it from the king. It was one of the few things that seemed to make him happy.”

While certainly not strong enough to peer into anyone else that might be in the orphanage, Ienzo’s range for simply feeling signatures around him wasn’t negligible. Not enough to scan the whole of the building, but as he paused, seemingly listening with Aerith to any responses her call might provoke, well, no one was close to them at least. Which was good enough to do some snooping with relative comfort. 

And snooping was to be had, even more than any trinkets left behind. 

“You’d think some administrative body would’ve taken it just for records,” Ienzo murmured as he peered at the ledger as well, though he didn’t sound particularly broken up about it. How else would he get the chance to read through it now?

…the kids had been sent over by Byakuya? Then likely not a reward. Bargaining tokens. Because it was hard to know about Sunny Side and not hear the Reaper’s name. 

Ienzo’s eyes lowered a bit as he caught the frequent instances of Maki and Kaito’s names, and he returned Aerith’s smile with a smaller one. “I know them to an extent. Maki was a popular topic with the Sunny Side children who went through the warehouses, so I got to keep up with some of her exploits over the years. Considering how the two of us met in the first place, I found it very characteristic of her to continue visiting the orphanage to help out her siblings long past her residency here.”

He tilted his head a little. “I’m not entirely sure why, but I find myself a bit surprised to hear that the king kept up with what Maki and Prince Kaito were doing in their free time. Though, obviously, you’d know him far better than I.”

“I do,” Aerith laughed lightly, brushing her long braid back over her shoulder as she looked over to the staircase, “As of right now? I might know him better than anyone else currently alive. I was his pet whore, after all.”

“Do you want to check upstairs?” Aerith asked Ienzo, nodding to the staircase, “If I remember right, the first floor was mostly utilities and guest areas. The rooms started up there.”

And from the little Ienzo did know about King Leon, hearsay it was, was that his eye-candy and bedfellows likely knew him better than most even when he was alive. 

Hearing some direction from Zexion, Ienzo gave Aerith a nod. Though, as they started heading to the stairs, Ienzo stopped halfway up. Gently poking at one of the handrail anchors, it came away from the wall, revealing a shallow dug out nook in the wall. Smirking lightly, he delicately pulled out a small bracelet made of painted glass beads. 

Having taken a hint from Clara all that time before, Ienzo pulled out a folded square of leather from his pocket and unfolded it enough to gently place the bracelet within a pocket of it. “One item to send, at least.”

Glancing back as they continued the rest of the way up, Ienzo asked, “I’d assume you would’ve said something if it applied, but you didn’t happen to hide a keepsake away here during your brief stay, did you Miss Aerith?”

“No. I wasn’t here long. I don’t even consider this place one of my homes, not really,” Aerith said, “Or anyone who lived here a sibling of mine. I think I was just too old to find comfort in something like that, when I was here. Too much just passing by…”

Aerith looked over at Ienzo. Watching him pocket the bracelet curiously. “I can’t quite figure you out,” she admitted, smiling lightly, “If you don’t mind me being blunt, my lord. You seem very studious, but… you’re surprisingly uncurious.”

Looking back, Ienzo blinked in surprise before a small amused look played on his lips. “Now there’s a word I don’t hear about me often. I would call myself curious about quite a lot of life, so while you might call it a bratty insistence to prove you wrong by the mere fact of asking… May I ask why you say that?”

Ienzo paused for a moment as they made it to the landing, looking carefully around the hall. “...and while I’m aware of the pressures of professionality between us, and the particular pressures on you as someone tasked in my service for the time being, I don’t mind blunt words. I know I yap a lot, but that’s just how I speak--I do admire brevity without etiquette in others.”

“Not at all. I do keep to my professional p’s and q’ for the most part, especially in the castle. But, I’ll admit, it doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m used to being able to say what’s on my mind, when it’s on my mind… just, in a place where there’s no one really around for me to hold my tongue for.” Aerith admitted, shrugging lightly, “Learning to be polite around people’s been a bit of a learning curve this past… near two years now, I guess. Heh. Time flies.”

“And I mean curious about other people,” Aerith smiled, turning on her heels and walking the last few steps to the second floor backwards. Her movement light and graceful, almost dancelike, as she stuck the very tip of her tongue out playfully at Ienzo, “You’re not at all curious about me, for one. Rude. And I never really see you talk to anyone but the people under your employment. Your family, perhaps, but you don’t seem particularly interested in learning about them either. You never ask anyone anything about themselves. Uncurious.”

“That it does,” Ienzo murmured quietly, sighing softly. But he finally found what he was looking for and knelt down by some molding that looked like it was barely still nailed into the wall. And as he patted around it, he listened to Aerith’s point. 

“Ah… That has been a weakness of mine over the…something around eight, nine, years, probably,” he mumbled. “A few months ago I wanted to make a dedicated effort in rectifying that--paying more attention to people than books, that is--but it seems I still have a while to go.”

For a lot of his life, he’d never needed to ask anyone things about themselves. He did with his family, yes, but he hardly spoke directly to his Indentured at all, learning everything he could think to ask about them from the memories he pulled from their heads. But Ienzo was trying not to do that (as much) any more, and with so much of his time aware being around vast libraries filled with things he hadn’t read yet…

It seemed like his promise to be more present had been falling to the wayside a bit.

“Though,” he gave Aerith a small, one-shouldered shrug, his right shoulder still stinging in its ache, “I did get the impression you don’t have much of a high opinion of me in particular, so trying to get to know you beyond the interactions we’re urged to have by circumstance seemed insulting.”

“Who said I don’t like you?” Aerith asked, watching the odd movement in his shoulders curious as he fussed with the molding, “...well, perhaps it didn’t need saying. But even saying I have a low opinion of you is jumping to a conclusion. Let me guess, mmm… Luis told on me,” she smiled lightly, pushing her staff forward to break the molding open a bit for him, “That I whisked him away for a night and tried to check in on him.”

“Liking’ and ‘having a poor opinion’ are different matters, but it remains that I don’t know exactly how you feel, only that there’s a certain amount of trepidation or perhaps wariness in your conception of me,” Ienzo tried to clarify, giving her a nod of thanks as he wiggled his fingers into the crevasse. “And you could call it that, though it was more Luis telling all of us something interesting he got up to that evening.”

He gave another half-shrug as he pursed his lips, squinting before pulling out a bead-and-cord doll pinched between his fingers. Carefully looking it over for damage, he added, “As we all do, with our exploits in the capital. We’ve all spent a lot of time together, and while it’s been a year, being able to do things that the others haven’t also experienced is still novel.”

Glancing up for a moment, Ienzo gave Aerith a small smile. “I’m glad you invited him out to a fun night, understandable threat from your friend and all.”

Aerith smiled lightly at the doll. Cute. “...Luis told me that he’s being sent to rehab,” she said, before laughing lightly, “He told me that after I demanded to know what he was packing up for. I was a bit forward, I didn’t really let him dodge around the question. He seemed nervous to talk about it. Shaking.”

She paused, swaying from her toes to her heels… before she confessed, “Maybe it is just withdrawal. It’s not like I haven’t noticed he has a drinking problem. But I’ll admit… it’d be impossible to tell the difference, between him shaking from withdrawals, and him shaking because he knows something terrible is waiting for him. And I can only needle him into telling me so much.”

Ienzo watched Aerith for a moment. “And there’s only so much weight my word can be held as the truth, right?”

Still, by mentioning it at all, Ienzo assumed that Aerith was asking despite that. 

“Luis has chosen to enter a rehabilitation program of his own volition,” Ienzo said, “When it became clear how long we’re going to be in the capital to finish the case, that is, long enough to safely go to rehab for an extent of time that would be most beneficial, he decided to surrender himself after multiple consultations with a healer that also helped him pick a trustworthy facility. And I support his decision.”

That said, Ienzo got up to continue the search through the orphanage. “It could’ve been withdrawal. And it could’ve been nerves, or fear. It really wasn’t long ago at all he was imprisoned somewhere that could easily be called a facility, so even with all the background checks and determination to go through with rehab, it’s still going to be fucking scary.”

Ienzo let out a little breath, frowning. “...Luis has always done his best for us. The amount of bravery he’s showing in undergoing this is…just a version of that for modern circumstances, I think. I really hope that he gets the help he’s looking for.”

“Imprisoned?” Aerith asked, as the two continued their saunter down the halls. Where now rooms without doors were lined up on their side of them. Bunk beds fastened to the walls, all of them with little signs of the lives that had considered those beds the one spot in the world that was truly theirs, regardless of how private it was. The stone material that was their framework covered in faded chalk drawings and paint, different colorful fabrics making up the beddings, sewn together by whatever the older siblings could get their hands on for the younger ones.

“I know you were Indentured, Lord Ienzo. It’s a bit of a scandal here,” Aerith laughed lightly, the two entering, at least what seemed to her, a random room among the rooms of beds, “But I haven’t actually managed to hear much about where your contract kept you. I’ve heard rumors and gossip, but nothing concrete. And Luis wouldn’t talk about it.”

Ienzo’s gaze softened slightly as they entered one of the bedrooms. He’d hated them at first. From a personal bedroom the size of four bedrooms here, his only personal space the literal bed he slept on, split in half vertically, it was a small wonder why. But he’d grown used to it, if not exactly fondly. It had helped in getting used to sharing a room in the factory, though by this point in his life, Ienzo would say he preferred the pallets. 

He’d had half a mind to tell Aerith, he’d already alluded to it before, but if Luis had purposefully not told her? 

“...I suppose he wouldn’t,” Ienzo murmured, finding a few dusty but otherwise in decent shape stuffed animals less hidden as just abandoned. Those he could just carry, he supposed. “I don’t want to take that choice away from him, then, but…I suppose for reasoning, I can tell you that our contract put us in a position where those who otherwise would’ve been our allies have a lot of reason to resent us, thus his caution.”

Having to go on his toes to peek on the top bunks, Ienzo made an aborted motion to reach up with his right hand, before shifting and using his left. “But where we were, we were unable to leave, thus ‘imprisoned’. And I don’t mean unable to leave our job--I mean ‘at all’. Every moment of our lives were overseen and dictated by those who owned us, and the only escape any of us had were in our own minds. So any suggestion of being ‘trapped’ is rather alarming to us.”

“...I was in a similar situation,” Aerith smiled lightly, reaching out to offer to hold some of the toys Ienzo was collecting, “...but I also know, personally, how disingenuous that statement can be. That it might not have been similar at all.”

“The lords and ladies, and the commoners as well, all talk about you like you were the equivalent of some… let’s say housekeeper, or street sweeper, or foot massager. One of the dozens of ways ‘cleaning’ Indentured are categorized. They whisper about you playacting as a lord and that you spent your whole life as a servant, and servants shouldn’t be allowed to own land like they’re suited for it. Because Indentured are never suited for anything but service.”

“But I know personally, that brushing Indentured in these broad strokes of ‘cleaners’ and ‘servants’ and ‘whores’ paints over what things were actually like, for so many of us.” Aerith said, looking at the little tally marks on one of the wooden support beams, cuts in the wood showing the heights of the names of the children who had leaned against it, along with counting their ages. So many of the tallies inconsistent, some names only appearing a few times, others only once, “It’s not the same for all of us. So many of my friends, ones I’ve now only known for a little over a year, all talk about my situation like it’s the same as them. They talk about the frustrations of going to bed beneath a body that repulses them, or listening to nobles and elites whine over nothing for hours. How their bodies were policed, their fashion strictly controlled. Then they pause to let me fill in a beat of silence. To let me vent next, about how terrible it all was. Being the personal toy of a noble, for basically all of my adult life.”

“And I cannot bring myself to say anything,” Aerith smiled sadly, “It’d feel almost mocking, trying to relate. And a part of me doesn’t want them to realize how different we actually were. How much better some of us had it then others…”

Aerith glanced over at Ienzo. Giving him a meaningful look, as she said, “Some Indentured left their contracts with nothing to their names and nowhere to go. Others seem to be able to keep what had once been their peers on their own payroll now. And you seem to have a… thing. For charming men with blond hair and frightened eyes.”

Ienzo grimaced a bit at the reminder of the gossip around him as he handed over a few of the toys and collected more. He would distract himself with what was right in front of him rather than with what was waiting back in the castle, but every name scratched into walls came with memories of tears and screams. He’d rather take the ridicule. 

He let out a short sigh. “If you’ve drawn that pattern from Luis and Demyx, I’d hate for you to meet the other half of my family.” Ienzo idly looked up in a room, tracing the shapes of what he was fairly certain was a large drawing of some sort of cat. “My father--my adoptive father--had a theory that one of our owners was picking us out based on looks, though we never got enough evidence to confirm it.”

“I’m not and I’ve never fucked Luis,” Ienzo said plainly, “I know this doesn’t necessarily discount it, but when we’re not in company we have to perform for? He’s Uncle Luis. Because of my lineage, I do have certain options the rest of my family don’t, but those options are something we decided to pursue together.”

His voice softened slightly, though the resolve in it wasn’t shaking in the slightest. “Because I have options others don’t. If we win the case, I’ll have resources to support the people that raised me. If we win the case, that’s legal precedent for ex-Indentureds to win any legal case, to have titles, to have capital. Either way, it’s eyes on how ex-Indentures exist at all in Queen Kaede’s reign. There are some truly awful worst case scenarios, but while we were discussing it, the most likely outcome if we lost the case was that we’d be laughed out of the capital, and ridicule really doesn’t mean much to me.”

Ienzo paused for a moment, looking at a small weaved charm that had been hanging from one of the bedposts. “And even though not all experiences under the Indentured Program were equal, we do share that our lives were bought and exploited. And that’s common ground to find solidarity for change in.”

“...heh,” Aerith smiled, before laughing into her hand a bit, “Uncle Luis? Oh no, I feel old… either he’s older than I thought he was, or you're younger than I realized. He’s a bit weathered, sure, the drinking has had a toll anyone can see. But old enough to be your father? Oh no.” She laughed again. 

“He is very pretty though,” Aerith said, after her laughter died down a bit, “Your lover is also very pretty, in similar ways. And while Demyx at least seems like he might be assisting Mr. Isa, Luis just seems to exist around you all. I couldn’t find a reason he was there at all, especially with how haggard and worn down he was. He had the nervous energy of someone at the end of their rope and being replaced. And if you had told me Demyx was his son, I’d have believed you for how similar they look. Except Demyx is young and energetic and is only a bit pathetic in a cute kind of way.”

“So, yes… I’d believe you, if you said someone picked those two based on their looks. One just looks like a used up version of the other, as cruel as that sounds,” Aerith frowned, “...but I think I also believe you that you weren’t the one to do that to them. Honestly, after chatting with you a bit? I’m not sure if you’re energetic enough to wear down a man like Luis. Again, you’re very passive. At least in conversation.”

Ienzo smirked softly. “Honestly I have no idea how old Luis is, but my best guess is in his mid-40s. And as I’m 23… Again, that doesn’t entirely exclude sexual encounters, much to Demyx’s bewildered discomfort, but it’s not something either of us, meaning Luis and me, feel towards each other.”

He gave Aerith another one-armed shrug. “Luis is here because he wanted to be, and in my own opinion that has more to do with the fact that Aqua and Dilan are here than I am. He is more than capable on his own, but you’ve observed some of his struggles yourself.” Ienzo sighed quietly. It was a combination of things, of course, but if he had to pin it on one person, Ienzo knew who it had been to deepen the haggard lines in Luis and provoke his nervous trembles. And as much as it sickened him to know where she was, he could at least be thankful it wasn’t around Luis.

Even if his uncle had binged deeply once Lauriam had calmed down enough from his panic attack to tell them what happened. Even a country’s width apart, she was still…

Something tired and heavy weighed Ienzo’s lids. “I won’t say I haven’t been the reason for some of his worries over the years. But that comes more from being a child in his care, and less for some of the reasons you may have hypothesized.” 

“Well, tell me then,” Aerith said, smirking lightly at Ienzo as she peeked around his shoulder, “What sort of world did Luis help raise you in? Where were you all this time?”

Was it the same as telling her what they did? It wasn’t like it was exactly a secret even outside the courtroom.

“The Togami Warehouse in Chonis,” Ienzo answered, not returning Aerith’s smile this time. “For those of us initially enrolled in the Indentured Program, we went into the factory for conditioning, and simply never came out until last spring.”

“Huh,” Aerith frowned, straightening up, “...I was sure it was going to be Head Secretary Tengan’s house. Or some fortress of his somewhere. But I suppose that also makes sense.”

“When I was 17, I was made to sit with him at a tea party, in his grace’s private garden,” Aerith recalled, “It wasn’t very often I was asked to keep someone company, outside of the king. If I recall, it was a failed meetup, the king having meant to have a private conversation with the head secretary over something, but something pulled his attention. So a small gathering I had simply been meant to provide snacks for suddenly became me and him sitting together. Having tea.”

“I learned that day that the Head Secretary is actually very chatty, when he’s convinced he’s in full control of a situation,” Aerith recalled, her light green eyes catching in the sunlight of another ceiling window, “...he shouldn’t have been able to do it. My conditioning didn’t make me obedient to him. But as he confided in me, he told me I wouldn’t repeat what he said to anyone, and I knew when I heard him that I wouldn’t. That the sort of power only Leon was supposed to have over me, the head secretary could use. And in a way more thorough then any order I had ever been given before. Forget talking about it, I could barely think about the things he said. Like I was listening and taking in his words, but couldn’t internalize them. A heavy fog every time I tried to recall them.”

“He told me I was beautiful,” Aerith recalled, “...but not his type. He didn’t like my eyes. It seemed important to him, that they were green. He told me it didn’t seem strange to him, for Leon to keep a person that he wouldn’t touch. That pets were common. He talked about the inherent sexuality of just owning someone. Of having a harem at your disposal, even if you were never inclined to dispose of them.”

“...he talked about his harem of empaths.” Aerith recalled, looking at Ienzo, “A large variety of beautiful creatures he had for himself. He mentioned a few of them by name… said they were fun to keep. But he was sad, because the only creatures he actually wanted, he couldn’t add to his harem. Pretty eyes constantly just out of his reach.”

“It was really disturbing,” Aerith recalled, “I remember being really grateful, that I didn’t belong to him. That I couldn’t imagine a worse fate.”

Ienzo slowed, watching Aerith as she spoke. His serious expression deepening to a grimace as she did, Aerith having glanced against an encounter that Ienzo would only wish on his worst enemies. 

“...disgusting old shithead,” he finally muttered after a moment, glaring at the wall, “Glad every day he’s dead.”

“So it’s true?” Aerith asked, “There was magic in the warehouses? …I don’t know if that’s surprising. It explains a lot, really.”

“I was only able to think about all of that recently.” Aerith said, glancing out a window, “I’m not sure when it happened. I just woke up one day and realized that this odd, distant memory I had as a teenager was suddenly crystal clear. And suddenly there was magic in the world. Do you know how odd it is, to wake up one day and realize you’ve known about magic for nearly a decade? To suddenly have access to an entire part of your mind that was being withheld from you? With its own memories and knowledge… can you understand what that’s like?”

{Pfffff}

“In a manner of speaking, but I think most people would say it’s magic,” Ienzo half-heartedly confirmed. If Tengan had already told her everything, reveling in giving the deepest secrets of their country, and closely held secrets of the world to someone he made sure couldn’t even think about it, then…there was no real point in beating around the bush. While he’d cleared one conception about his character, Ienzo wasn’t really sure there was anything he could do about Aerith hating him if she connected the dots the rest of the way. 

Though, he let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “I would say I have a pretty good chance of understanding, but my withheld parts of my mind were always quick to share everything with me. Though…what you’ve experienced has been more true for me lately.”

After a moment, Ienzo frowned softly, giving Aerith a concerned look. “...how has it all felt to you? You’ve just called it odd, and as it pertains to me, I haven’t noticed your work being affected, but…in short, are you alright?”

“Am I alright…?” Aerith tilted her head back. In a way, her hair was oddly expressive, but that was likely a lifetime of learning to emote with it. Her bangs swayed when she was feeling thoughtful, her braid bounced when she was feeling playful. And when she was sad? She smiled sadly, tilting her head forward, letting her bangs cover her eyes a bit, “I wasn’t at first. I thought I was going crazy. Which felt very unfair. I had managed to be alone for so long, one more pretty thing locked away in a wing of pretty items, with no one to talk to… and I think all in all I came out pretty stable!”

She straightened up, her braid bouncing as she smiled sweetly at Ienzo, laughing a little… before her shoulders fell, “I didn’t feel insane, anyway. And then suddenly, once I was free and allowed to leave the kings wing, but wasn’t banished out of the castle. Allowed to keep my things and even pick out my own room and was being paid for the first time in my life, being allowed to go outside and talk to people and shop stores and see things and have fun… suddenly? I was getting lost in daydreams? Suddenly I couldn’t tell the difference between my fantasies and the real world? After all that time? Suddenly magic was real?”

“It felt like a mean joke. After how hard I worked to stay sane, to suddenly lose my mind… it wasn’t until some of the others talked about similar things happening that I realized it wasn’t just me,” Aerith laughed warily, “That was a relief. Sure, it’s a bit scary to hear about how big and strange the world suddenly was, but… well, the only thing I’ve ever had control over is me. Pieces of me. So long as I hadn’t lost myself? I can handle anything. I’m not afraid of a world full of magic, so long as I can count on myself.”

One more person the Momotas had locked in a cage. But as much as Ienzo was sorry for the distress he had caused, making someone question their mind, he couldn’t be sorry for his transcription factor. And it seemed like Aerith was doing alright anyway. 

“That seems like a comforting worldview, the ability to have that kind of faith in oneself,” Ienzo said, bowing his head for a moment in respect. “I’m afraid of a lot of the world, but that’s in direct conflict with how curious I am of it. And while I wasn’t raised to be helpless, I think my faith in others is what makes the world easier to face, rather than self-reliance.”

Ienzo closed his eyes for a moment, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. “I think I may have ruined a moment for my fathers, my aunt, and my uncles, because I was too curious to see what sun felt like for myself, when we were freed.”

“The sun?” Aerith startled, giving Ienzo a worried look, “...the sun?”

Ienzo gave her another half-shrug, entirely too casual. “We didn’t have windows.”

Aerith shook her head, whispering to herself again, “The sun… but, well, that’s what I mean. It’s really not the same experience for any of us…”

“Hey! Did you guys get murdered!?” Demyx called from the front door, “No luck in finding stuff buried in the sand! There was a box that I think had some coins in it at one point, but I guess the kid took it with him! You guys dead? Don’t be dead!”

“He’s pretty energetic, for someone who didn’t see the sun for I’m assuming quite some time.” Aerith mused. 

“That’s why he’s my sunshine,” Ienzo said, entirely serious, before he called out, “We’re upstairs, and not dead by our own perception! Thank you for checking outside, Demyx!”

“Yay! Good day all around then!” Demyx cheered from the first floor, before his footsteps echoed, clearly going to wander around the first floor in pure curious interest. 

“It’s nice, being around someone who can find joy in things. I think I’m that for my group too. But it seems more natural on him.” Aerith smiled lightly, hearing absentminded singing in the distance as Demyx looked around, “...you know. Somehow I feel like I ended up saying more to you, than you did to me. Which feels so self-defeating, since you only asked me one question that entire conversation. I don’t think I’m as suited to being a socialite as I had half-daydreamed I was.”

“...damn,” Ienzo muttered. “We could say that while not questions, perhaps my comments provoked conversation anyway, but that may entirely be to sooth our own egos. I’m really the last person to ask, but you’re at least sociable enough to fulfill that aspect of being a socialite to me.”

As they moved out of the current bedroom, Ienzo headed towards the other side of the hall. They’d found quite a few things to send back to Dicea, but considering he wasn’t sure how many times he’d be able to return to Sunny Side, or if someone really would come by to squat there, he’d rather get as many left behind items as possible in one trip. 

Pondering her point, Ienzo somewhat awkwardly asked, “How is it, still living in the castle under different circumstances?”

Aerith laughed, “You’re truly terrible at this.”

Ienzo sighed in dismay. “I may as well keep trying. Given infinite time and resources, what is something you’d want to master?”

“Gardening,” Aerith said easily, “...and magic. It seems a waste to know about magic, and never try any of it for yourself. I don’t really know what the world is capable of…but I Iike imagining being able to heal at a word.”

“Flowers and healing,” Aerith said, getting to the end of the hall and seeing a ladder on the wall, “Want to head to the roof?”

Geez, and she had been one of Marluxia’s? The world really was full of coincidences. 

“Magic as a broad topic, as far as I know, seems as infinite as knowledge can be, but limiting the scope to healing magic? That still seems like a study that could fill an eternity.”

Ienzo looked at the ladder. He carefully flexed his right hand. And he looked at the ladder with more dismay. “...I did want to be thorough,” he grumbled to himself, before carefully placing his armfuls of toys on the ground next to the ladder. Letting Aerith up first as he did so, Ienzo took a breath before starting to slowly climb, moving his right arm carefully and trying to only reach up with his left.

Aerith waited at the top of the ladder, watching Ienzo stiffly climb up. Politely, she didn’t bring up the injury. He knew he was hurt. 

But she did give him a final hand up at the top step, and couldn’t help but say, “A healing spell would be helpful now, wouldn’t it. See? It’s a practical idea.” she laughed lightly, looking him over to make sure he was alright, before looking around the roof.

It was clear from even a casual glance, this was where the kids came to play. The playground was a community project, but the roof was where the children had made the space their own. A mishmash of random objects and projects littered all over the roof, broken from the weather and time, but clearly showing signs of what the kids had been up to before they had left the building. Hopscotch squares lined the floors, broken vases where plants had been growing, deflated balls and cheap, abandoned toys that hadn’t been worth taking across the kingdom. 

And on the wall, a mural. Where the chalk and paint had all been collected and left at the base of the wall, and on its side, among dozens of doodles and some genuinely good artwork of flowers and animals, was colorful handprints. Handprints tightly packed in together, some overlapping. A few had names written in the palms, some had images, most were just the handprints themselves. Claiming their little pocket of the world. The kids leaving their literal mark on their home.

“...I forgot this was here.” Aerith admitted, walking up to the wall. A distant, small memory as she looked around… before she smiled lightly. Placing her hand against one of the markings. That one. She was almost certain.

Ienzo gave her a small smile. Maybe there were healing spells that worked on old injuries, but at least none that were reflected in literature. It was a nice thought either way. 

He looked around the roof, this place, almost more than anywhere else…

(“You’ll just die if you jump off, people can’t fly,” Shuuichi petulantly sniffed, staying firmly away from the edge of the roof Maki and Ienzo were peering over.

“Nope, this is way too short to kill me,” Maki said, still considering the distance.

“...I don’t know, there are probably things we could make to catch air or create drag, or even create lift like balloons…” Ienzo airily pondered. “But right now, it’d still hurt.”

“Hey! What are you doing, Big Si--”)

Ienzo’s eyes were a little too wide as he looked at the mural of handprints. He’d forgotten it was there too. A collection of people who all screamed the same thing.

Aerith looked back at Ienzo. Her smiled saddened at his expression. “...you look like you just saw a ghost.”

“I have no idea if ghosts exist,” Ienzo said, quick, his words barely more than a whisper, “I used to operate as if they didn’t, because there was no evidence on either side so belief was purely a personal choice in how you wanted to interact with the world. But if pieces of the living past can be tossed about through time and space, ghosts may simply be normal people without any discernible differences, and that may be far scarier than any depiction of an ectoplasmic spector.”

{Sunshine, Ienzo’s freaking out on the roof.}

“Maybe,” Aerith said, removing her hand from the wall, looking at him more fully. “But that’s not really what I meant. You look haunted. Are you alright?”

Maxie, age 7, heard the concept of patchwork monsters and became promptly terrified by them, she had hid around bookcases and eventually started calling out for Big Sis to protect her from the monster slowly plodding after her. Big Sis never came, and she had screamed at the top of her lungs as she was backed into a corner. 

Roman, age 10, came from a fishing town by the coast and had heard all sorts of sailor’s tales. He’d repeated to himself all the tips Big Sis gave him about swimming, ones that he helped teach the younger kids too, but he’d frozen and sank like a stone seeing even a pantomime of Guppy. 

Felicia, age 8, she hadn’t gotten into the assassin track, but she’d wanted to be just like Big Sis in every other way possible. Seeing the unmoving bodies of her orphan siblings, she begged Big Sis for mercy first, and then for Big Sis to fix everything.

Ienzo heard the tear of flesh and bones cracking under a sword’s pressure. 

“I shouldn’t be,” he whispered.

Aerith was about to ask what he meant, when suddenly there was a scrambling sound from the hatch, and Demyx’s head popped up, “Woah! Okay, one second! Phoo!” 

Sweating a bit, he pulled himself out, taking a long breath as he tried to fill his air with lungs… before he bee-lined to Ienzo. Pulling him into a hug. “Button, do NOT pull a Lauriam on me! I am going to be so upset if the building catches fire! Are you okay!?” Demyx demanded, hugging him tighter, eyes already starting to well up with tears, “W-we are taking deep breaths, okay!?”

Aerith gave Demyx a bewildered look.

Ienzo inadvertently took a deeper breath as he sucked in a flinch, Demyx’s squeezing hug jostling his shoulder. But the flash of icy-hot pain going down his arm was something real. Something present. Something that he could hold onto that wasn’t…

Ienzo swallowed another breath as he leaned into the hug, eyes squinting in pain. “...sorry, I-I’m not going to… I--” He had to grit his teeth against the pain for a moment, feeling more clear-headed for it. “...freaked myself out for a sec.”

Demyx’s eyes wobbled for a bit… before grinning brightly, “Sorry! You scared me for a second! I’ve been kind of waiting for something to happen here, what with all the, you know… memories.” He chuckled nervously, looking at the mural on the wall, “Oh! That’s kinda neat! In a grim kind of way… hey, you flinched when I hugged you, button. Is it your shoulder?”

Ienzo grunted, decidedly not looking back at the mural. Neat in a cool way for everyone but him, for which it was a grim way. 

He could feel his right hand trembling lightly, as more waves of that icy-hot pain shot down his arm. “Dad’s gonna be so mad I reached up for something like that,” Ienzo muttered, nodding to confirm.

“We’ll get you some ice. And some ice-shaving dessert! It’s hot today, it’ll be nice while we relax your shoulder,” Demyx grinned, before looking over at Aerith, “We’re gonna get dessert on the way back Aerith! Hey, have you two talked yet already or what? Is it still weird between you two?”

“I really thought I was more subtle,” Aerith smiled lightly, “But then, you two aren’t subtle either. Are you even trying to hide the fact that you’re a couple?”

“From everyone else, sure, but you’re really nosy, so I figured you’ve figured it out by now,” Demyx shrugged, “And you’re nice to Luis, which is really all I need in my books to trust someone. Have we saved enough toys? Let’s go take care of your shoulder, button.”

“We’ve spoken,” Ienzo quietly confirmed, before he tilted his head a little towards Aerith, still careful not to actually look at what she was standing in front of. “It does implicate a certain conflict of interest if I’m dating one of my lawyers, but I’d never planned on putting our relationship on hold for months simply for the decorum of people I don’t care about. And you’re aware we share a room at night, so there’s only so much pretense to maintain.”

Sighing softly, Ienzo looked out at the other half of the roof. Nothing particularly sentimental up here…

“...I suppose so,” he said softly. “I don’t remember other known hiding places anyway, so we’ve likely found the bulk of things. And I suppose Maki can write to us after we send this bunch if any of her siblings suddenly remember something left behind.”

Tired blue eyes drifted over to the roof latch and ladder, and Ienzo grimaced. …climbing down one-handed it was, then. 

Demyx glanced at the hatch, likely guessing where Ienzo’s reluctance was from, “Um, maybe we could find another way down?”

“It’s a bit too far to jump, I’d think. You’d just end up hurt in a different way,” Aerith noted, “Why don’t you carry him, Demyx?”

“Wha?? What?” Demyx startled, pointing to himself, “Me? I’m sorry, do you think I’m hiding biceps and abs under here? Ienzo is basically my size!”

“I bet you could do it! He doesn’t seem that heavy.” 

“Nnnn…” Demyx wilted, looking Ienzo up and down, “...maybe? Wanna get on my back, button?”

Ienzo looked up at the sky for a moment. “...we’ll tell Dad you did. But I can get back down myself. I’d flatten you like a pancake.”

“I love you so much,” Demyx said with grateful, watery eyes. 

Aerith laughed, “Shame, I don’t think I could carry you down a ladder either if I’m honest. You don’t need a lot of brute strength to wake a person in the head with a metal staff.”

“Yeah, I was going to say, that thing is really cool!” Demyx said, watching as Aerith clicked a button and the staff shrunk itself back into a small, baton shape, “That must be so heavy! And how does it retract like that?”

“I feel like the best answer I can give you is ‘springs’,” Aerith laughed lightly, tapping the tucked away staff, “But I don’t really know how it works. And it’s not as heavy as you’d think. It was made for me, and like I said, I’m not exactly hiding rippling biceps and abs under my dress either. The king had it made for me to let me train with. I mostly know how to prettily twirl it, since that was the most I ever needed it for, but it does make a great bludgeoning weapon, I’ve found. More practical than you would think!”

“My sitar also makes a good bludgeoning weapon, but it is not practical, and also it would damage my instrument.” Demyx pouted, the three heading to the hatch, “I discovered all of this the hard way one night, when I wasn’t really feeling ‘myself’, and I somehow thought it was a good idea to use it as a weapon against some drunk bullies. Nearly had a fit looking it over for damage later. Hey, should I go down first in case I need to catch you, button? Or at least be a soft landing pad if you fall?”

Ienzo patted Demyx’s side, though he did glance over enough to watch Aerith’s baton retract into itself with wonder. “Fascinating… I had assumed you would need to manually push all the sections back together, since it protracts automatically. The ability for it to be an automatic process both ways is quite a feat of engineering. And weighted or not, there is a fair amount of skill in wielding a long weapon at all--being able to do so with showmanship is more of a display of danger than several formal forms.”

His wonder had turned into more of a mumble, even through his intended compliment, though Ienzo grew a small amused look at Demyx’s story. He had to give it to Larxene for resourcefulness, but there had been something a bit shocking in seeing how banged up the sitar got afterward. 

Sighing as he looked at the ladder, Ienzo half-shrugged. “May as well, thank you. I’ll likely be in a significant amount of pain if I fall on the floor or on you, but the damage to the rest of the body would be less on you.”

And, with that plan set, Ienzo waited for Demyx to get down the ladder before carefully positioning himself to go down, holding on with his left hand while he stepped down a few rungs, and… Ienzo frowned, looking between his hand and the next rung down, before he pulled himself as flush to the ladder as he could and let go, quickly trying to grab ahold of the next rung before his balance failed him.

Aerith reached out, her own hand filling the space in the middle gap where Ienzo’s hand failed to reach back out in time. Grabbing his hand, she held firm, lowering herself a bit to let him grasp the next railing, before smiling lightly, “Not sure how many times I can pull that off. Maybe try grasping the side of the ladder instead? Slide your palm down?”

Ienzo glanced up, giving her a small, strained, but grateful smile, before giving a sheepish huff. “...that does seem more consistent, doesn’t it. Thank you, Miss Aerith.”

Sliding his hand across the rung, he then grabbed onto the side of the ladder. It did feel less stable than going down normally, but given that that wasn’t an option for him at all, it was leagues better than falling backwards off a ladder in his old orphanage onto his boyfriend. 

While his pace was still careful, Ienzo did make it safely onto the ground, though while he’d moved his right arm into his pocket to not have to think about it, he did hold onto his shoulder with a wince as he settled on solid ground. 

“...ng,” he softly grunted, even as he collected the toys after a moment. “...do you know what flavor of shaved ice you’d want, Demyx?”

“Blueberry!” Demyx immediately said, taking Ienzo’s good hand as the two backed away from the ladder, letting Aerith come down next, “With little gelatin sugar squares and hard chocolates! Now that I know we’re getting some, I am so excited for shaved ice, you have no idea! What are you guys going to get?”

“I enjoy the red dragon-fruit mixes,” Aerith said, wiping some of the sand from the ladder off her hands, before smiling brightly at the other two, “With little hard chocolates too. And sugar crystals.”

Honestly Ienzo wasn’t that moved by getting dessert, but to keep in the spirit of things he shot out, “Mango. Or orange, or one of the combinations.” Aaaand no mixings if he could get away with Demyx not needling him into them. He’d likely let his cup melt most of the way and just sip the water and syrup mixture from the bottom.

“If we are all ready, then?”

Ienzo might not be enthused, but Aerith and Demyx spent the next twenty minutes enthusiastically trading different shaved ice combos they’ve tried over the last year, as they all headed out with a literal bag of their rescued trinkets. 

-

Lauriam might’ve been just fine talking with Dr. Mariah straight out of sleep, wearing pajamas and ruffled in every extent, but that was Lauriam and as his dear other half’s new brain doctor had astutely pointed out, Lauriam and Marluxia were not the same person. 

Sure, sure, technically Marluxia had met that way with Dr. Mariah too at first, because they had been stuck together like a preschooler's first art project with glue, but those were totally inconsequential details. 

So, today? They still had bandages around their neck, arm, and lower chest, but Marluxia had cleaned up, wearing a low-armed muscle shirt and a cotton jacket around his elbows with sturdy-fabricked pants tucked into boots. And Strelitzia’s necklace, of course. 

And Aeleus had taken one look at him before shaking his head. “I’ll walk you to the office.”

(There had been the requisite arguing, or course, but Marluxia was grateful for his uncle’s company. He still felt his muscles tense and a buzzing along his spine in nerves anticipation at going outside, and it wasn’t like he had the energy to go run a marathon or anything, so… It helped. Having Aeleus there to watch his back.)

But toooootally unlike taking a doc-call in bed, Marluxia marched right into the office address he’d been (Aeleus had been) given, and cast a suspicious glance around at the heady smell of incense in the air. Calling out to the four eyes at a desk, Marluxia said, “Hey, this Miss Crystal’s place?”

Said Four-Eyes practically jumped in his seat, warily pushing up his glasses as he gave the two men a look over, “Ah, Marluxia? Please give Doc one moment, her last appointment is running over a little. Please take a seat… uh,” the man scratched his curly, purple hair warily, grimacing slightly at the ‘waiting’ room they had available to sit in, as he explained, “Please excuse the bean bags. She’s… trying something.” He sighed, looking exhausted, “Again. There’s real chairs tucked behind the wooden counters you can use instead.”

The waiting room was a colorful cacophony of twirling scarves around the walls, soft, billowing curtains with patterns sewn into the fabric, and enough plants inside that it almost seemed more flora than the garden outside the building had been. Perhaps most oddly, hanging above the wooden counter the chairs were tucked behind, in front of the wide spacious window, was a bird cage, that seemed to be the home of a bundle of vibrant, strongly scented flowers… and just a ton of butterflies. Like, maybe an alarming amount of butterflies. That seemed to fly in and out between the bars of the bird cage at random, before always settling back to the flowers. 

There was also a variety of little busying trinkets littered around the place, the man at the reception desk seeming to remember this at the last minute as he worriedly watched them navigate the various coloring books and knitting sets left on the ground, “Please try not to trip. I swear, I clean the floor and they just magically appear there again. I suppose if you’d like you can try them out yourself while you wait–”

“OH-hohoho, but see, that’s what I mean! That sense of humor! That’s what’s going to get you through this. Trust me, the right witty turn of phrase lingers in the mind loooong after a stab wound has healed!” Miss Crystal coo’d, walking out with, surprisingly enough, another pink haired, lanky person, clapping Trish on the shoulders as she said, “Now, enough with taking the knife to school, we both know you’ll never use it. Don’t give them any more excuses to tattle on you, hm?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Trish sighed, shoving her hands into her pockets. She shot Marluxia and Aeleus appraising looks, like sizing them up for a fight, before she scoffed, heading out the door. “See you next week.”

“Bye dearie!” Miss Crystal waved, clapping her hands together, “Such a darling. Okay! Next patient! Who’s my next head case?” 

Marluxia looked over the office appraisingly, though he did move towards the chairs at Aeleus’ nudging, not simply standing in the middle of the office and looking around. It was…busy. Obviously within a theme, though not one Marluxia thought fit neatly into a single word, but one that fit with ones like ‘eclectic’, ‘swaddling’, ‘juvenile in the way your auntie that drank too much talked to you like you were 11’. 

Shooting the same look back at the teen that stared him down, Marluxia made his way back through the mess of crafts. “That’d be me. Dr. Mariah said she sent you a referral or whatever.”

{I’ll wait here for the end of your appointment. Only a message away.}

Marluxia still appreciated that.

“There we aaaare,” the doctor turned from Aeleus to Marluxia, her flowery skirt swishing around her ankles as she said cheerfully, “Marluxia! I’m Dr. Phaux Crystal, but please, call me ‘Miss’! I–hold on.”

She patted her waist and vest, unbuttoning it and opening it up, murmuring to herself as she went, “No, no, close, no… aha!” pulling out a squarely shaped, little tower like blue and gray stone, with a thin little string embedded carefully through its base, she turned to Aeleus, “Before we start, can I interest you in this beautifully cut, natural labradorite? It’s a mere five copper, and every copper goes to feeding our butterfly enclosure! You’d be doing us a real favor, buying one! The butterflies are hungry little things!”

“Now there’s a defining name if I’ve heard one,” Marluxia smiled with sickly sugar, “Charmed.”

As he was offered the stone, Aeleus regarded it with mild surprise, looking quietly at ‘Miss’ Crystal for a moment. This was a person they were trusting on the recommendation of a person they had trusted on a recommendation. At some point that chain of familiarity broke down into something no more trustworthy than a perfect stranger, but even if two people down the line was that point, Miss Crystal’s profession did give her more credibility. 

Still, he couldn’t sense anything malicious or deceitful in her, or the stone. 

As Aeleus pulled out five copper, Marluxia gave him a disparaging look. “...really?”

“I would like to contribute to feeding the butterflies,” Aeleus said simply. 

Marluxia could only let out a tsk of a sigh. “Whatever, Grandpa Stone. Go commune with your kin while you wait.”

“Fantastic! It’s a great purchase, lovely decoration! An old wives tale is if you tell it things you desire, you’re more likely to get those things too!” She said cheerfully–or, perhaps more accurately, you’re more likely to trust yourself in allowing yourself desires again–as she clapped her hands cheerfully, “And being able to confide in something can be an extremely impactful self-soothing act! Maybe you should try it, what’s the harm in a little whimsy in life? Oh-hohoho! Okay!”

She turned to her receptionist, “Only knock if it’s an emergency, and don’t worry about any loud sounds you might here. Sometimes I get a sense of who might be ‘loud’. And it’s usually me!” Miss Crystal laughed cheerfully, before gesturing for Marluxia to follow her into her office. 

“Do you mind that the windows are open? I can close them if they make you feel a little more secure, but I assure you, we’d notice if anyone was lingering by.” Miss Crystal said, sitting in a large, plush chair that encouraged her to bring her feet up and sit criss cross in it, as she gestured to her myriad of sitting options in the office, “Please, take a seat! Are you the type who lays on on a couch and stares at the ceiling? We have that laying couch specifically for that! Most people don’t use it, I can’t imagine why.”

Aeleus bowed lightly to her, staying behind as Marluxia rolled his eyes and followed Miss Crystal into her office. The vibe was much the same as the front lobby, though Marluxia could see the source of the incense now in a decorative little pot with a million cutouts, and all sorts of…well, he’d only call them doodads hanging around. 

But given an indication to sit?

Marluxia swung himself onto the edge of the chaise and perched on the arm. “Nah, open window’s fine--wouldn’t want to choke up on faith, now would we~?” Giving Miss Crystal another open look over, Marluxia huffed. “So. I got chased out of the last living autopsy so La-La could have private time, and he said that Dr. Mariah said you’d be more ‘my vibe’, whatever she means by that. And now here I am. You want the shorthand notes of what we had to explain before, or what are we doin’ here?”

“Faith? Ah, right, the incense. I’m afraid I’m not Atua or really any of the other religions that enjoy a good scented spice. I’m just a bit of a spiritualist myself, really.” In the sense she knew spirits existed, as she excitedly shot up and pulled out a drawer that was stuffed to the very brim with various incense cones, sticks and cubes as she said, “And a lover of fun scents! I have a little bit of everything one can legally get their hands on in Dicea, and now that the borders open! Ooooooh, my collection grows.” 

She giggled almost menacingly in delight for this, before she closed the drawer, “But, we’ll enjoy trying new scents some other time. For now, let’s take this with all the seriousness it deserves. First impressions are important, after all.” 

Sitting back down again, she took a calming breath. Another calming breath. Long enough for the silence to be notable… before saying brightly, “Alright! So what’s your deal?”

Marluxia snorted a bit, smirking in approval at the collection Miss Crystal showed off. “Couldn’t say I’ve ever met someone that just likes the smell, but that’s not exactly, like,” he waved, “a good sample size or whatever. Until recently, you smell sage and spiced smoke? Someone’s been praying.”

Just raising an eyebrow at the silence, Marluxia sighed as he counted off on his fingers. “I have what your lot call Dissy Identity shit, Lauriam’s the name of the other guy in our head, so you know; about a year ago we were freed from lifetime imprisonment and we’ve literally just gotten off the streets and hiding from the government, apparently ‘true torture’,” Marluxia literally did air quotes around the term, “is, like, rare here and something pretty regular for me, like a third of the people I give a shit about are dead, one of our old torturers is likely skulking around the shadows here, and we just got mortally attacked and super brainfucked a few days ago.”

“Overview enough, hm?”

“Oooooo…woof.” Miss Crystal sighed, placing her cheek in her hand, “That is a lot. Let me process that for a moment…”

And after a moment, that seemed to be a sincere request. Again, a beat of silence. One beat. Two. Long enough to notice that she was being quiet, as she pouted a bit… before nodding lightly, “Well, alright then. Let’s go over who I am and what our purpose is here then.”

“Like I said, I’m Miss Crystal. Dr. Mariah is both a friend and a respected peer of mine. She’s one of the best in the business right now, a true expert in her field… so for her to recommend you to me?” Miss Crystal said, tilting her head as she reached towards her face… before stammering, “Oh, where are my glasses? I swear, it never really registers to me how blurry everything is until I physically notice they’re gone, where–ah!”

She laughed, pulling them from where they were handing on her vest, putting them on and blinking a bit, “Much better. So, like I was saying, to have her recommend you to me likely means she noticed you struggling with something that I’m an expert in. And what I’m considered good in my field in, is… big emotions. Anger Management tends to be the catch-all term for that, but there’s lot of symptoms and syndromes that I specialize in that’s really only caught at the point in a person’s life where they’re being pushed into anger management therapy. ‘Anger’ is so rarely the true culprit to whatever  pushed a patient through my doors. But it does tend to be the most obvious symptom of whatever is actually going on.”

“I explain all of that so you know where likely Dr. Mariah’s head was at, recommending you to me, and what I’m currently looking for, in my initial appraisal of you,” Miss Crystal explained, tapping her glasses as she looked him over more clearly, “That said? Keeping in mind your summary of your history is now already known to me? …what’s bothering you, friend? What’s on your mind?”

“I know, we’re certainly in the running for the big issues contest on wordcount alone.” Marluxia let out a faux wistful sigh. Though, he did just rest his arms on his knees as Miss Crystal thought. 

(...tired. Everything still hurt. But damn if Marluxia was going to let that stop him. It wasn’t his insistence that Lauriam didn’t keep them inside all the time that led to them getting hurt, and he wasn’t going to let anyone take it as evidence for that.)

He’d caught that Dr. Mariah had mentioned anger management before, but given that she said it likely wasn’t a case of that, Marluxia hadn’t felt a need to bring it up at all. Sure, sure, Miss Crystal wasn’t exactly saying that now either, but…

“Please,” Marluxia scoffed, before sniffing, “I don’t have anger problems; I have anger solutions.”

…there was a pause before he pouted, glancing away. “But big emotions is more or less right. They’ve always been an issue, though usually more on La-La’s end because he’s horrendous at managing them, but it’s still enough of an issue that people are damn salivating over them, apparently.” Marluxia’s expression hardened slightly, something frustrated twinkling in the gem-like depths of his eyes. “It always just gets us into trouble. Right now, with all the opportunities fucking miraculously given to us now, we can have a real life. I’m not about to spend it constantly bouncing between a hospital bed and cowering in bedroom corners. Or creating a constant stream of increasingly bizarre and distressing mental monsters.”

Marluxia’s jaw tensed more. “But nothing I do ever seems to change the outcome.”

“Alright, let’s explore that,” Miss Crystal said, reaching up to her ear, before huffing, looking around, “Sorry, one moment. I like to take notes in the early sessions, especially the first one. I’ll get to know you better over time, of course, but for the initial process it’s usually better to just jot down details as you hear them. Wait one, wait one!”

She scurried up, looking through her desk a bit, before triumphantly bringing out a notebook and a pencil, sitting back down, “Oh, also feel free to bring things to these sessions to tinker with, if you like. I have some objects here you can fuss with, of course, but I’ve always been a believer that the time it takes to talk can also be used for little things you all enjoy doing as well. Some people enjoy our little puzzle cubes, or drawing, stitching. Things like that.”

“But, okay,” Miss Crystal said, opening her notebook, “What are some things you’ve tried? You sound frustrated at your success rate, I want to understand what you’ve been putting this energy into.”

Marluxia snorted. “La-La would be thrilled to get stitching done. Guess I’ll just have to find a new project out here to work on. Something tells me welding isn’t exactly an office activity.”

“I’ve tried just leaving him to it, I’ve tried taking over completely, we’ve tried switching mid-way, for a while letting me handle shitty stuff and then him doin’ shit right after worked, but barely, since he’d usually end up mucked in a day or two anyway, and that’s the same story trying to distract him too.” Marluxia scowled. “He’s not miserable all the time, but nothing ever seems to make him happy enough as, like, a baseline sort of thing. Like, I get it, his life was a nightmare, but that’s such, just…”

Marluxia growled lightly. “It’s a waste. Who cares if things are shitty?! I’m not about to wait for a paradise I probably won’t even get to see to start living or be happy. Our lives are happening now.”

“Oh, dear.” Miss Crystal frowned, jotting down a few notes. Sticking out her tongue a little as she wrote down her thoughts, before giving Marluxia a concerned look, “Has it always been your responsibility to manage his emotions?”

“Basically. He sure can’t,” Marluxia scoffed. “And when poor Loseriam is melting down and everyone’s yelling over the fires and murderous intent, who has to shut all that down and keep it down until he’s just lying on the ground? Alllllways Mar-Mar. And it practically has to be my birthday to get a thank you. And yet I’m always the person ‘overreacting’ or ‘throwing a fit’ or ‘being a bully’. It’s bullshit.”

“Oh, no, that’s no good,” Miss Crystal said, shaking her head, “You shouldn’t be doing that… at all. You can’t be the person made responsible for when someone else is throwing a fit. That’s not good for either of you. Oof.”

“You’re a dissociative identity, yes? That’s what you just explained before? Sharing a head with ‘Lauriam’?” Miss Crystal said, looking down at her notes, scratching her cheek with an eraser, “Let’s go over what that means for you. I’m afraid we do have to define your purpose–or lack of it–from this point forward. See, in almost any other circumstance, the argument that you’re responsible for someone else's mood and self-destructive patterns is a biiiiiig no-no. One of those BIG oopsie-diasies, psychologically speaking. But, being a personality constructed with a purpose does blur that line a little. So… tell me about your childhood. Do you remember the day you were born?”

Huffing, Marluxia shrugged. “That’s what people’ve said, even though that’s not in the slightest how we’ve ever defined it, but, like, other people involved say that doesn’t actually matter. Whatever. But at the end of the day, La-La and I share a brain and body, and he did make me.”

“And it’s not like I’m made responsible. I’m just the one stepping up because it’s not like anyone else is gonna fix shit,” Marluxia sniffed, “When I came back--whole thing--La-La and I decided 50/50. I get to be a whole damn person on my own, even though apparently all of us have been like that for ages anyway. But, I do still have purpose. When I was all part of him again, he fucked up our head royally, and since I’ve been back? I’ve been fixing that shit.”

Puffing out some air, Marluxia smirked. “Do I remember…sure do. Little dumbass was fucking around and half-made me by accident, then ran off to get help when it blew up in his face. Had to teach him how our head works.” Marluxia rolled his eyes. “It’s a little embarrassing, honestly. Xal really was never intimidated by me, the bastard. But it would’ve been more pathetic if he had been by a 12-year-old.”

“Call it useful shorthand while I start to learn the differences between your actual situation and multiple personality disorder,” Miss Crystal said, “So you were born at the age of 12 then? Were you also 12? And who’s Xal?”

Marluxia shrugged. “I remember everything from before La-La made me as if they were my own memories, and he was 12 when he made me, so, yeah. Close enough, anyway. I think he wanted to make me older, but there’s only so much of a bridge imagination can gap.” 

Even with everything they were talking about, a hint of a fond smile turned up Marluxia’s lips. “Xaldin’s one of my boyfriends. Outside of being a part of Lauriam, he was the first person I ever met. Though the group didn’t really consider us people at the time.” Marluxia huffed. “There’s a lot of props I can give La-La, but a big one is that he always thought that was bullshit.”

“Oh, one of your boyfriends? Collecting a few?” Miss Crystal asked, smirking as she raised an eyebrow, “May I ask about the others?”

Marluxia smirked right back, sitting up with pride. “I know; even one lucky guy is blessed enough for my attention? It’s really a miracle anyone compares. They’re Xaldin, Dilan, and Lauriam. Somehow. Dilan is Xaldin’s headmate, and I’ve already told you about La-La. Lemme tell you, it was a fucking journey to get to this point, and now that we’re all here?”

Marluxia’s joy was drained through an annoyed sigh that turned into a grouch. “Now that we’re finally, officially together, Xal and Di are in another fucking country for months. Figures, right?”

“That is soooooo messy, what you just told me,” Miss Crystal said, putting her hands together, placing them in front of her mouth, as she gave Marluxia a probing look, “...you’re dating Lauriam? Made you at 12 Lauriam? The one who’s emotions and fallouts you’re trying to personally manage and ‘agreed’ to ‘let you’ be a person, Lauriam? We’re going to have to go over that. There’s a lot to unpack there.”

Marluxia gave Miss Crystal a coolly amused look as he drawled, “Wait ‘til I tell you Xal and Di are 20 years older than us too.”

He waved a hand lazily. “We’re all sorts of messed up, dating Lauriam is just one more vine in the jumble that doesn’t actually change the thicket you’re looking at. But--” Marluxia glanced away, his cheeks pinking lightly, “--he’s always loved me, in different ways. And I’ll fucking destroy anyone who’d have the braindead audacity to keep me away from him.”

(To another person, that was a pretty blatant way of Marluxia saying he loved Lauriam back.)

“Maybe to you it sounds harsh that he ‘agreed to let me be a person’, but where we grew up was downright hostile,” Marluxia shrugged. “He was seen as a sentimental nutcase for not essentially killing me when we were little. He’s all sorts of fucked up, but--” Marluxia’s blush grew deeper as a slight pout formed and his voice petulantly softened, “--he’s always tried for me. Tried to make things as easy as possible with the painfully little he could actually control. He…”

…Lauriam was dead asleep. No chance of overhearing.

Still, Marluxia shifted uncomfortably as he crossed his arms over his knees, his jaw clenching. “You want a case study? We were both left with the damn consequences, so maybe it didn’t matter. But he put himself in a position to be raped, and didn’t let me fucking switch back, all ‘cause I was bein’ a pussy over some waterboarding. Lauriam’s a mess, but he always tries for people, and me more than anyone.”

Miss Crystal let out a long ‘oooooooph’, before writing into her notebook, “took on a rape… because of lingering effects of… waterboarding… perhaps I’ve done something to upset Ava recently…”

“...so, which was worse?” Miss Crystal asked, after another long beat of silence, “With the understand that both were bad? I’m trying to get a sense of what your baseline for ‘bad’ is. Which do you consider a worse experience: the memory of your rape, or the memory of your waterboarding?”

Marluxia scoffed. “If I’m meant to be terrorizing someone, it’s polite to give a heads up. Some people don’t know a damn thing about etiquette.”

Though, at the question, Marluxia gave Miss Crystal a bewildered look. “The rape, duh. That wasn’t the only time we were waterboarded, but it was sure the only time Lauriam tried to kill himself right after a punishment.”

“Is that why it was worse?” Miss Crystal asked, “Because of how Lauriam reacted to it?”

Marluxia only looked more confused, and honestly was getting a little offended. “No? I’m not calling any of our punishments good, but being raped was worse than any of them. I’m just pointing out that he sure agrees with me. I literally don’t know how to describe to you how having a sick fuck get their jollies off with you is worse than just physical pain.”

Miss Crystal sighed a bit, putting her hands up after placing her pencil down on the notebook, “Give me a moment of patience. I understand to you it feels like an obvious comparison. But that’s why I’m trying to get an idea of what your level of ‘bad’ is.”

“Rape is a special kind of evil,” she said, putting her hands down, giving him a gentler look, “But people forget why it feels like a particularly terrible thing to do to a person. It harms and violates parts of our psyche that are otherwise almost uniquely untouchable… if we’re raised to cherish those parts of our psyche. To value it above all others.”

“There are those who were not raised, taught, to consider that sort of dignity valuable. They don’t consider themselves valuable in that way, and when terrible things like rape happen to them, they’ll sometimes have a difficult time even conceptualizing it as such. And if they can recognize it was rape, they struggle to understand why others consider it the worst thing that could have happened to them,” Miss Crystal explained, “It’s a difference in how you perceive yourself. And considering your upbringing, the circumstances of your existence? What I want to know is if the rape was terrible because it was the worst thing that could have happened to you. Or to him? And we can figure out how you perceive yourself from there.”

The offense calmed as Miss Crystal explained her reasoning, though Marluxia still frowned in consternation. Giving her a hard look for a moment as he tried to work through the questions posed to him. 

“...I might’ve not been fronting, but I was still there,” he grumbled tersely after a moment, tension held through his body, “If we’re not making an effort to block it? We know how each other are feeling. I knew what was happening, even if it wasn’t something I was experiencing directly with my body, in the moment. For a lot of our lives, how we thought of ourselves was that I was Lauriam, and for a long time that was probably even true. Some of it might still be true, I don’t fuckin’ know how all this shit works.”

Marluxia took a heavy breath. His nostrils flared slightly as he clenched his jaw, obviously working through frustration. “That skid-licker violated us, she wanted to feel powerful by making us feel helpless. She wanted to humiliate us. And when I say us, that damn sure includes me. It was awful for Lauriam. And it was awful for me too.”

“I was raised to maybe not see rape as an inevitability, but something close to it,” he said, voice rough, “But that didn’t fuckin’ help at all when it actually happened.”

“Rape offends an entirely differente range of our sensibilities, than most other forms of intentional hurt,” Miss Crystal agreed, “Even if one is prepped for it, if even knowing idly the value our bodies has, what the act takes us from us, in terms of actual cost… it’s a hard thing for anyone to accept, unless they have no concept of that dignity to begin with.”

“So I believe you, when you say it was worse for you then the waterboarding, even if you don’t consider it something you bore directly in Lauriam’s place like you could have,” Miss Crystal said, “But what about the waterboarding incident then. Did that you face alone? Was Lauriam there as well?”

Marluxia let out a tired sigh. “He wasn’t supposed to be. I was supposed to take our punishments, then La-La could take back over when we were back in our room. But it took ages for me to figure out how to make him sleep, or for him to agree to from the start, and back then? He was obviously aware enough to get worried and force us to switch.”

Marluxia scoffed lowly, looking off to the side. “...he hates seeing me get hurt, even if I handle it waaaaay better than him. He’s such a damn bleeding heart.”

Ah. The waterboarding led to the rape. She understood now. This was the same incident, and the both of them experienced it at the same time in what she was starting to think was the same ways.

“It sort of seems like you don’t enjoy seeing him hurt either,” Miss Crystal pointed out, “You said he tried to kill himself after this incident. I’m sure that was its own hurdle, but… what did you do after the incident? How did you feel?”

(...of course he didn’t. There were places for it, sure, sure, but generally Marluxia didn’t think you liked seeing the people you love hurting.)

Marluxia crossed his arms over his knees again, back curving enough that, perhaps, you could call it hunching…and maybe the position was a little reminiscent of some of the ways Lauriam made himself smaller. 

“...they just dumped us in the kitchen,” Marluxia said lowly, eyes pinned on the rest of the chaise. “I had to move our body, or our parents were gonna find us. It seems kinda dumb now, but right then, it felt like the worst thing ever for that to happen. But Dilan found me first, cleaned us up while we were out of it.”

Gem green eyes softened. “...he told me it wasn’t my fault, that I hadn’t asked for it. Just…talked to me while I got my head on straighter. Convinced me to put on clothes that weren’t soaking wet and freezing. Put shit together so I could eat, since I threw up a ton. I was so…angry.” Marluxia swallowed, begrudgingly admitting, “And scared. The supervisors were all shit-gulpers, but the rule was to just go along with everything, because they could make it so much worse. But I couldn’t think how they could make it worse than what they just did, and I just wanted to kill them all then and there.”

The vulnerability faded into old, jaded anger. “Naive, I know, but I was 16 and freaked out.”

“I don’t think it’s naive. Dangerous, certainly, and maybe not wise in that moment. But there’s plenty of situations where the end result is, yes, it would be nice to fight back. It’d feel good to hurt the people who hurt you. It might even be a positive in the world, to harm someone to the point where they could never do that to anyone else again.” Miss Crystal said, giving Marluxia a small smile, “I don’t think you were wrong, or stupid, to want revenge in that moment. It just was a choice you had to make, what sort of risks would be worth it. And the risk to yourself and those closest to you were very real and very immediate. I’m going to assume you didn’t get to have your moment of violence against them. Did cooler heads prevail, or did it just not work out?”

Marluxia looked back up at Miss Crystal, puzzled for a moment, before his mouth parted in understanding. Speaking carefully, he said, “It was naive to think that it couldn’t get worse. Not for wanting to kill them. I still want them in the ground, nothing will change that for those losers.”

He sighed. “We fought back during punishments sometimes, but that never felt like revenge. More like just reminding them they couldn’t get too comfy hauling us around. But my sort of Dad apparently didn’t think to bring me when he did get revenge on some of them, and La-La had a massive freak out just thinking he saw the head bitch in the park, so revenge still eludes me.”

“Ah, sorry about that, I misunderstood you. I have a tendency to leap onto the explanation that violent emotions and desires are, in fact, allowed, and that there’s nothing inherently wrong with feeling them,” Miss Crystal laughed lightly, though the look in her eyes was briefly tired as she said, “A lot of my patients show up here thinking I’m going to magic away those emotions for them, at best, or at worst, that they’re lost causes because those emotions feel impossible to deny. We’re not here to ‘deny’ anger or passion or violence or even revenge. There is a place in the world for all of those concepts, and you are not some special case for feeling entirely natural emotions. It’s just about managing expectations. Revenge isn’t always a bad thing, but it is usually a complicated thing. And we all have to make choices about what that means for us, individually, and if we can live with the complicated results of those choices.”

“Which I’ve been told is a bummeeeer~” Miss Crystal snickered, “A lot of people would prefer an all or nothing statement. Nuance makes difficult therapy. Yet, I find it’s most effective.”

“But, before we talk more about how you feel about the things that happened to you, let me touch base on that ‘sort of Dad’ thing real quick. Can you explain?”

Marluxia rolled his eyes. “You feel what you feel, anyone that tries to say that that’s wrong is an idiot. And some fuckers deserve to die. I’m not about to whimper and apologize for being pissed at what they did to me and my family just ‘cause some people get squeamish around violence. Grow up.”

From that confident statement, though, Marluxia let out a harsh sigh. “Yeah, that whole, ‘things could be worse’ thing? The supervisors killed my dads, that broke my mom to the point she and my other mom turned Mom into a memory-based version of one of my dads that pretended to be him for real so my mom didn’t have a complete mental breakdown. But, like, he still cares about me and stuff, even though I was already an adult when he was made, so he’s my dad…sort of.”

He waved a hand. “I told you, we’re a group with a lot of nonsense.”

“Mess. Total mess.” Miss Crystal agreed with a nod, “No offense.”

Miss Crystal looked down at her notebook, went to write in it, stopped, tried again… before admitting, “I have no idea where to start with you.”

“So!” she said, tossing the notebook and pencil aside, looking to Marluxia, “Let’s do this the opposite way. Instead of me trying to decide what seems to be the most pressing issue to get into with you, because honestly, how on earth could I, every single thing about you seems to be an extremely pressing and urgent issue… do you have anything you want to get out of these sessions? Dr. Mariah probably sent you my way because wow. But I’m not really much help to you unless there’s something you’re going through that you’d like to get better. Some current or present burden that’s making life difficult to get through.”

“I can just sit here and listen to all the terrible things you’ve experienced. Some people want that specifically from their therapy sessions. Just someone to tell what happened to them.” Miss Crystal said, “But usually they want that to avoid telling someone else those same things, out of concern for their privacy or relationships. Or they want someone else to confirm it was terrible. We can certainly do that. But considering you didn't necessarily ask to see me, but were referred? I’d rather let you think about what you actually want from me, rather than setting that expectation of ‘you’re just here to talk’ from the beginning.”

Marluxia smirked sardonically. “To be honest, I think Dr. Mariah sent me your way half to incentivize me to stop chiming in when she’s talking to La-La. Too rude to just tell me to shut up, so, oh, Marluxia, why don’t you go see your own therapist that’s sooooo more suited to you than me~?” He scoffed. “Enzy can say all he wants about manipulation, but I’m not an idiot.”

Still, he was taking this seriously, so Marluxia considered the question. And…more than anything else right then? 

“...I wanna stop feeling so stressed I’ll explode just going out and doin’ shit,” he said seriously after a moment, “And I want to know how I should handle things when La-La and I have ‘big emotions’. Honestly my biggest concern with that I don’t think you’re exactly qualified to answer, but that’s close enough, I think.”

“Eh, let’s figure out if I’m qualified through process of elimination rather than assumption. I’m quite capable! Don’t let the aesthetics fool you,” Miss Crystal smirked, pushing up her glasses with a self satisfied little ‘hehe’... before she pouted at Marluxia, “But really. What’s your biggest concern with that? Do tell.”

Marluxia frowned quietly at Miss Crystal for a moment, looking her over. Dr. Mariah knew that, whatever the hell he was now, Marluxia had started out as a psychic construct. She wouldn’t send someone like him to someone who didn’t know a damn thing about psychics, right? 

“I don’t want us to turn into non-metaphorical monsters when we get distressed enough,” Marluxia said slowly. “It’s bad enough, incidentally causing a riot, or becoming a freaky amalgamation of ourselves, but turning into a monster could’ve killed our family, and almost killed Lauriam last time it happened. I need something more to ensure it won’t happen again other than just saying that it won’t.”

“I see, I see… well, that seems to be the same issue as usual,” Miss Crystal laughed lightly, “If it’s about managing distress and emotions? To not harm others? Don’t write me off just yet, I think we can manage.”

“So, let’s go into detail then, hmm? Let’s go over one of these incidents where you turned into a monster. Do any stand out?”

“It only happened the once,” Marluxia grumbled, “And I only know about it secondhand. I wasn’t around for it, and Lauriam doesn’t remember anything about it, though apparently our little brother was pretty thorough in his storytime while La-La was in his coma. He and Xaldin had a shitty conversation after sex, Lauriam’s brain was still scrambled from waking up, he freaked out hearing Xaldin say the big L, and when he tried to run, our little sister pulled him back and he exploded.”

“This is unhelpful,” Miss Crystal said, “Can you guess why?”

“Because it’s not about me?” Marluxia drawled, before sighing. “But it sort of was. I was Lauriam at that point, but everything about that is…” He scrunched his nose, finding distaste in his ability to explain. “...weird.”