“No, coasting, like…forget it,” Henryk huffed, coloring at Pav’s reach-around before jerking his arm out of reach. “A-and I have a job--you said yourself it’s been three years, things have changed! I’m in the restaurant biz for real!” As much as he puffed himself up, and that pride was real, working as a line cook in a restaurant in the neighborhood, albeit a nice one, wouldn’t be enough to afford the watch that Henryk had gotten from August. 

But it had been a gift! Not just spending ‘daddy’s money’. That Henryk had gotten for his birthday after getting his job, so it was practically like he earned it!

“Oh, I get it--hey, thanks!” Halcyon cheered as Henryk handed over her lemonade. “Coasting! Because he’s not on the sea--on the coast now. Though I think that’s a bit of a stretch for your point.”

Henryk had momentarily lit up having someone get his sort-of joke, before deflating at her criticism, just grumbling as he put Tanaka’s glass down in front of him with too much force. 

“Levi might actually have one if you tell him that,” a dry voice answered, Daan casually maneuvering around Henryk to place the bottle Hal had spied in their exchange before in an icebox. Once hands free, Daan pulled out a cigarette pack from his pocket and pulled one out. At Henryk’s snap of ‘no smoking in the kitchen!’ he just dead stared at the blond, keeping the cig in his mouth without removing it.

“Welcome back, Pav,” Daan said, almost as an aside. “Been a while.”

“Oh! Oh that is funny. Nice one, Henryk!” Tanaka said, lifting his glass of lemonade in a ‘cheers’ motion before taking a sip, “Oooh, perfect. Just what I needed. It’s a scorcher today, I am swimming in this suit today, let me tell you.”

Pav smiled that leering, tight smile at Daan’s greeting, though as usual, it was impossible to tell if Pav was sneering in mockery, or if he was just genuinely pleased to see the other man. “Daan! Gosh golly gee, it’s sooooo nice to see you… you look terrible~” Pav giggled, pointing to his own right eye, “What happened? Piss off Henryk while he had a spork handy? Wait, thinking about it, aren’t you supposed to be, just… not here? I can’t remember where Marcoh mentioned you going. Away?”

Henryk had turned away to check on the food prep simmering and soaking, but Hal was in a position to see enough of his face to note the almost giddy-looking grin and metaphorical flowers spinning around his head from Tanaka’s comment. 

Daan rolled his cigarette around in his mouth, hardly even blinking at Pav. “Went to Panem as part of the medical corps aid we were sending. Came back because of the dagger lodged in my skull. Seems like both our injuries wanted to make sure the whole crew was back together for a reunion today.”

“Oh, that’s where you said Karin was reporting,” Halcyon recalled, nodding to Tanaka, before sheepishly grinning. “Though, Panem’s not the smallest country. Don’t imagine you two ran into each other abroad.”

“Life is full of coincidences,” Daan said, answering absolutely nothing.

“I’m sure your eye will heal wonderfully, Daan,” Tanaka tried to reassure, smiling warmly at Daan, before looking at Pav, “And I’m sure your… what injury did you have again?”

“Terrible claw marks, nearly lost my arm. Still hurts me terribly,” Pav said, pouting as he weakly rolled his shoulder. 

“Right! I’m sure you’ll heal just as quickl–”

“The fuck are you all doing in here?” 

Tanaka very quickly backed away from the others, though it wasn’t quick enough for Caligura to not scowl. “You’re all practically on top of each other too. What, you lot all managed to go to war and come back acting more queer? Have some damn self-respect and stop rubbing up against each other in my damn building…”

Pav smiled–sneered–at his father when the man gave him a quick, unimpressed look over… before looking over to Halcyon, giving her an obvious once-over, before smiling charmingly. “We have a guest? Pardon this lots’ manners, I’ll have to introduce myself. It’s Caligura Crime,” Caligura said, reaching out to offer a fist bump, “But please, call me Caligura.”

It was subtle, but Daan’s remaining eye glanced down to Pav’s shoulder as he rolled it, darting across the exposed area of his chest. No jitters or locked positions, but Pav hadn’t done a full rotation or put much strength into it, no way to tell what sort of damage to the SITS there was or if there was damage to the labrum. His shoulder wasn’t rolled inward, though, and not taped that way either as far as Daan could tell, so it was likely the muscles hadn’t been severed completely or shortened, though--

Halcyon raised her eyebrows a little at the older man that came into the kitchen--pretty rude, honestly. Wow.--but she put on her work smile and returned the fist bump. “Nice to meet you, Caligura, I’m Agent Halcyon, representing the IRAD, I--”

While he clearly looked uncomfortable, Henryk straightened his back to an almost painful-looking degree. “She’s here to talk to Father about some property the Records left to the apartments. So they’d be Prime Assets.”

Halcyon couldn’t help but smile a little--more wordplay?--but before she could say anything else, a softer voice accompanied a new person peeking into the kitchen. 

“Have I missed the homecoming already? I thought August and Karin weren’t due back for a little longer.” D’arce Knight, peeking around the room, lit up. “Welcome back, Tana!”

“Hello, Mom!” Tanaka said, looking just as thrilled to see his mother, heading over to her and quickly giving her a light kiss on the cheek, “Not Karin, but look! What a strange sight we all are, hm? Daan and Pav are here, and–”

“Tsk. The Prime’s sure have it for the moment,” Caligura muttered, giving Halcyon a more wary berth now, “IRAD here? Well, it sounds like you’re here for the fun sort of news. Assets connected to the building? I’m sure August will be thrilled. That man loves being handed things in life.” Caligura glanced over to D’arce before nodding his head respectfully. “Knight. You’re looking lovely today, as usual. You and your Olivia have everything you need right now? Say the word, I can have one of the boys fetch you both whatever you’d like from the markets.”

As she gave Tanaka a hug, utter affection in the exchange, she looked around again at Tanaka’s prompting, cheering, “Yippee! It’s lovely to see you back home, Pav! I thought you were still on tour for a few more months.” She let out a wistful sigh. “That means almost everyone is back at Red Grove… Le’garde would be so happy seeing this place full of life again.”

Giving Caligura a nod back, D’arce’s smile softened more. “You’re too sweet, ‘Gura, but we’re alright for now. Marcoh’s been helping Livvy do some maintenance on her plants this morning, though they should be down so say hello this afternoon.”

While the woman seemed full of good spirits and smiles, there was something oddly keen as she turned to Halcyon. “I do apologize for the lapse in etiquette, miss--D’arce Knight, at your service. You’re IRAD? And…appraising something connected to Red Grove?”

As Halcyon bumped her fist against D’arce’s doing her spiel once again, D’arce’s eyes gleamed. “Ah, I’m sure Auggie will be interested, but I’m not so sure anything just linked to this address through the records will be his. You see, generations and generations ago, when the start of the Knight line broke away from the royal line--truly fascinating stuff, we can trace our family tree back to the First Lady, she’s originally from Gliese of course, and our current day isn’t the first time our lines have ended up entwined with royalty--we had Red Grove commissioned. The Record family was a part of our community here for many years, but given how close our families were…” She sighed lightly. “Well, I’d have to look through our records, but you wouldn’t count on one hand all the gifts our families exchanged through the decades.”

Pav smiled, twirling his fingers at D’arce. “Hiiiiii Mrs. Knight~ Lovely to see you! Thank you for the care package early spring, the cookies were a massive hit with the guys in my berthing.”

“Ugh. Military has no standards these days. It’s embarrassing,” Caligura muttered, giving Pav an openly disgusted look, who just smirked back at his father.

Tanaka, eager to be helpful, stepped in to add to his mother’s explanation. “But, we still have all the old records. Some of it’s in our respective quarters, of course, but a good deal of it is in the library. We’re quite lucky, to live in the sort of place that’s kept its own library for generations. Can find fascinating old pieces of history in there.”

“If you find some great-great-uncle’s old grocery list that someone felt compelled to press into a journal to preserve ‘fascinating’,” Pav said dryly, “You said Marcoh was upstairs? With Olivia? Tell them to come down already.”

“Ah, has anyone told you Pav… actually, before you see Olivia, perhaps it’d be wise to fill you in about something…”

-

Marcoh looked a little ridiculous, hunched over the bench at the window sill, sitting on what felt like the world’s tiniest step-stool, holding what might honestly be the world’s tiniest pair of scissors, cutting the browning edges off what had to be the tiniest little flowers… but he sighed when he felt like he had gotten them all, placing the pot back down with the other plants in the sunlight. “Think that’s it… got any others?”

“That’s all of them!” Olivia cheered from her spot on the floor, having been looking over the thin trunk of her potted mago tree farther from the window. “Thank you so much, Marcoh. It wasn’t getting concerningly late to do plant maintenance, but it would’ve taken me forever to check all of them.”

Some would’ve been easier. Trimming overgrowth or just checking through leaves and stems were still pretty easy tasks, but even going back and forth to fill her watering can was now something of an ordeal. But splitting up a task with a friend made it a good way to spend a morning regardless.

Happy as she was to have her plants all in good health, Olivia sent a warier look to the window. “...you think Karin and August have made it back from the station yet? It’s not really like everyone was planning a party, but I think people are going to try and catch her.” Olivia laughed softly. “It feels kind of funny, no? We all set out on our own paths, but a few years later and… Well, I guess Pav is still out in his own life.”

“Hmm,” Marcoh hummed, following her gaze to the window. The Knights’ part of the building had, thankfully, not been blocked by the concrete wall that was the ‘new’ apartment complex across the wall. Marcoh wasn’t the envious sort by nature, but even if he had been, he thought he’d still be happy that the household botanist had gotten to keep the sunny windows, even if things had gotten much darker at the Crime family’s part of the building in the last year or so. At least Olivia made good use of it. “...think she’s… you know…”

Marcoh shrugged lightly, giving Olivia a look that only someone who had grown up with him would recognize as ‘mildly exasperated’, Marcoh not being the most expressive person around, “...calmed down any? All that traveling and reporting and, I dunno, mystery solving… it’s probably chilled her out a little, right?”

Marcoh’s voice was hopeful. Things were never entirely ‘calm’, not while he lived with his father. But it had gotten quieter and slower in The Red Grove for the last few years. Marcoh had appreciated not feeling so boxed in with so many… loud personalities, recently. 

Olivia let out a soft laugh, though the look she gave Marcoh was mildly apologetic. “If I’m honest, I’m not sure there’s anything that could calm Karin down. Mom got a few copies of her report, one to frame, you know, and reading through it…” Olivia let out a puff of amusement. “Well, she is a professional so it doesn’t read like one of her rants. But even hearing about her investigating the refugee camp and how she would’ve gotten into the sorts of places and conversations to report on it in the first place…I don’t think even war’s slowed down our Karin.”

“At least outwardly,” she admitted with a slightly glum shrug. “I would hope that she and Daan would have each other to talk to about what they’d seen, but they’ve always driven each other up the wall.” Giving her friend a more encouraging look, Olivia guessed, “She’ll probably find a new project to go sniff out soon, though. So no need to worry about finding her trying all the locks near your room again.”

“Hmm. Dad used to make me change them out every time she worked it out. Heard him brag about it to his poker friends, once. Think he and Karin both thought it was some sort of game they were playing,” Marcoh said, rubbing his temple in irritation, “...dunno why he’d get so mad at me and Pav about it. We didn’ design the locks. Maybe he thought Pav was teaching her. I sure got good at changing out locks though.”

Glancing over at the wheelchair, he asked, “We should probably head down soon. Need any help gettin’ in?”

“There’s a bright side!” Olivia encouraged, before following Marcoh’s glance over to her chair. It was fortunate, all things considered. They’d been able to get a comfortable model, and Abella had been working with designs for a good winch or crank system for the stairs so Olivia would one day be able to go up and down herself. Hee hee, though she’d need to work on her biceps more for that to be reality too. 

“Thanks, but I need all the practice I can get,” Olivia laughed, moving herself along the floor to climb up into the chair. “Definitely will take a hand getting downstairs, though, the thunks on each step are still pretty brutal on my back.”

“Sure,” Marcoh said, not moving to help as Olivia got herself to and into the chair. In the beginning, Marcoh had helped a lot. Arguably more than anyone else, including Tanaka and D’arce. It had been hard not to hover, wanting to lend his arms and back to whatever Olivia needed.

The two had always been close, growing up. Olivia was a gentle personality and Marcoh was someone who had craved that, often spending as much time with her as he could, following her on plant excavations and working on homework together. She was calming. Undemanding. 

His dad said men and women couldn’t be friends, but Marcoh had been secretly calling Olivia his best friend for years, if only in his own mind. It felt true. Everyone kept expecting them to be a couple someday, but it had never come up between him and Olivia themselves. Marcoh was pretty sure by this point it never would, and he was okay with that. For a lot of reasons.

But one thing Marcoh had learned when they were kids and he had tried, earnestly, to ‘help’ Olivia with anything that a girl shouldn’t be doing–lifting heavy things, digging in the dirt, handling way too many worms with her hands, anything his father said made a girl less attractive–was that he better back the hell off once Olivia told him to back off. She meant it, when she said no. Marcoh respected that.

Besides, she managed just fine. “I think you’re likely gonna have biceps as big as mine, at this rate,” he said, only half joking. She was already getting a lot stronger in her arms these days. It was genuinely impressive.

Taking a pausing breath once she got into her chair, Olivia pushed her glasses up and gave Marcoh a grin before playfully bringing an arm up to flex her bicep. “Look out, you’re going to have some real competition in a few months, Marcoh. We’ll have a pull-up-off that’ll bore almost everyone to tears with how long it’ll take.”

With a giggle, she rolled towards the door. Expertly, if she said so herself, pausing to the side of it to open the door without banging it into her knees. In some ways she felt like she’d been learning more in the past few months than she had during her whole time at university. Leading the way downstairs, she hummed, “What do you think Henryk’s made to try and impress Karin this time?”

“He was tellin’ me about it. Learned some Panem recipes. Said some stuff about not wantin’ her to miss her ‘home away from home’,” Marcoh said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he followed her out the door, a futile effort since he had to pull them out again once they got to the stairs, steadying her by the handles as she rolled herself down, “Think he’s a bit nervous, actually.”

“Ey? Nervous about what? Who’s nervous?”

At the base of the staircase, having just put down her bags, Karin looked up the staircase as some of the others followed August’s directions to bring in more of her bags from the carriage. Karin had been warned beforehand about Olivia–had heard about it over letter–and had enough self-restraint to only glance at the chair once before smirking up at the two of them. “Olivia, Marcoh, long time no see! You two are looking cute as ever. You two finally figure it out between each other when I was gone?”

As she’d said, the thunks of her chair going down each step wasn’t the most graceful thing, but Olivia took them slow and steady with Marcoh’s help. Though she did pause to look up at the familiar voice, lighting up at--

“Karin! Welcome back,” Olivia greeted, genuinely happy to see her friend back. And…in one piece. Two wasn’t exactly a pattern, but it was like what she’d said to Marcoh before. Once their little generation had grown up and started to branch out into the world, it had felt sort of… Not cursed, and not fitting, exactly. But it did feel like there was a certain pull of Red Grove that made sure that they all ended up back home, even if that pull had to take pieces of them to ensure it. So it was…good to see that war hadn’t done that to Karin. 

Still, happy to see her or not, Olivia still said with firm cheer, “We’ve had it figured out years ago, still friends.”

“Boo. You guys will take the plunge at some point, you’re too perfect not to,” Karin grinned, heading forward and only hesitated for a moment before leaning down to hug Olivia, “Missed you, babe… now… Oi, Marcoh!!” 

Marcoh blinked, putting his hands back in his pocket, “...oi, Karin.”

“Have you heard? Apparently the feds are here, sniffing around for some documents. If anything’s been ‘misplaced’ into your flat, now’s the time to return it back to the library before someone sniffs it out.”

Marcoh huffed lightly, looking away. He didn’t respond, partly because he wasn’t sure what to say, but also because, like… he actually wasn’t sure if his dad hadn’t hidden some of the building documents meant to be in the library in their flats. Marcoh tried not to pay attention to that sort of thing. Marcoh didn’t read much in general: reading any paper, mail, or files left around his flat was asking for trouble.

But Marcoh didn’t have to defend himself, as coming in with a large duffle bag on his back, August placed a hand on Karin’s shoulder, “Karin, my dear, it’s been years. I know it’s your ‘thing’, but perhaps just ask your friends how they’ve been, rather than throwing yourself into the first hint of a mystery you’ve gotten right at the door, yeah? They’ve missed you.”

“...Hi, Marcoh.” Karin pouted, “How have you been.”

“Good.” Marcoh said.

“Good.” Karin said, before sniffing, looking around, “Someone’s made some food.”

Olivia gave Karin a firm squeeze. As if just seeing her wasn’t enough, the hug confirming, yes, Karin was right here, whole and well. “I missed you too. Don’t go rushing off to another continent right away, okay?”

There was something to be said about needing a little Karin chaos back home for a bit, but without saying a word Karin was already on it, and predictably stressing Marcoh out. Though Olivia did raise her eyebrows a little. The feds, here? She wondered what that was about…

Almost on cue, the kitchen door opened, Henryk striding confidently out for, hm, about two steps with a complicated expression on his face. “‘Someone’? C’mon, Kar, you’re a better sleuth than that.” There was a moment of hesitation, before the complex twist softened, Henryk giving his sister a softer smile. “You’re probably hungry after traveling forever, right? Lunch’ll be up just about whenever you’re ready. …welcome home, sis.”

“Theeeere he is! Figured you were cooking something, since you couldn’t be bothered to come pick up your sister! Come here!” Karin laughed, bringing up her arms wide and standing on her tiptoes to hug Henryk around his shoulders, “What did you make me, squirt? Smells delicious!”

The building was broken up into multiple private flats. In truth, every flat had its own kitchen, its own dining and living rooms, its own bedrooms and offices and patios. No one needed to be using the common rooms on the first floor, essentially. Most days, this sort of mass mixing of the families of the house was unheard of.

But almost all of them had just recently had a family member return, and whether you called it celebration, curiosity, or just wanting to take advantage of Henryk’s meal, it was a rare occasion of near everyone in the building coming in and out of the common areas. Chatting and trading small talk of ‘isn’t it nice to see so and so’ again…

It wouldn’t last. But it was nice, for a moment.

-

Lauriam slowly paced back and forth in his bedroom, fingers pressed together in front of his mouth. His eyes discerning on each and every clothing piece laid out. 

Today was important. Today was special. Today was a huge, fancy festival meant to celebrate the new growth of flowers and plants, basically a huge party for the entire city. He’d finally properly introduced himself to his neighbors (a lesson he hadn’t realized he’d learned from Linnea) and naturally the upcoming holiday was an easy subject to bring up, and everything he learned from them?

Today was a day to go all out. And one that he’d be damned if he didn’t make sure his family and friends had fun at.

But what to wear?

“The sparkle mesh shirt, obviously,” Marluxia nodded seriously, plucking it up and swishing on a heel to hold it up over their torso in the mirror, “I got this as a showstopper so what would be better?”

“Sure, sure, but…you can see our piercing through it.” Lauriam half grimaced, looking at the dangling skull in their belly-button.

Marluxia rolled his eyes. “Like people don’t know. Half our family’s already seen us shirtless since we got it, and who cares what the other half thinks? It’s cool as fuck.”

Lauriam sighed, conceding, “Alright, fine, but which pants? I like your style but I don’t want to wear one of your outfits completely. I just feel like I’m pretending or faking being you.”

Marluxia paused for a moment. “...what if you weren’t faking?”

-

Wearing what looked like only strategically placed bits of sparkles and straight-legged trousers decorated with a pocket chain over flower-embossed sneakers, lip gloss and a bit of light-colored eyeshadow under his eyes to lighten up his face, the upper half of his hair pinned back in swooshes at the sides, Mariam already looked a bit wide-eyed and astounded as he walked into the castle, intending to meet up with his siblings to go around the festival (at least for the very beginning) with them.

“Sora, Sora, I’m open!”

“Hup! Here!” 

“Hahahaha, INTERCEPTION! Catch it Tim!”

“Oh, Mike, Mike, it’s going low!”

“Eeeee, Mike’s got it! Mike, watch for Miss Kairi!”

“Oh! Sora!” 

“I’ve got it!”

In the main lobby, on the stairs and the various floors, a bundle of children and teenagers were all enthusiastically throwing around a hacky sack. A few of them just catching it with their hands and tossing it to the next person, a few of them pointedly catching it with their ankles or kicking it with them feet, getting genuinely impressive air as Sora kicked the sack from his spot in the center of the first floor, kicking it in a backflip back into the upper floors. 

It was very, very impressive… and very in the way, as Kaito finally arrived to the bustling lobby filled with people, having been given a very strict heads up from Kirumi, and groaned as he saw his kids dodging and weaving around carefully decorated areas and people still trying to set things up in the castle, as he called from the third floor, “Hey, hey, no! You guys are going to run into someone, that is an outdoor game! Cali, drop it!”

“Oh! It’s dad.” Tim realized, peeking up from his spot on the second floor.

“SCATTER!” Cali shouted, throwing the hacky sack wildly out into the air, Chase catching it on the stairwell as all the kids suddenly bolted in every direction.

“HEY, WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU ALL RUNNING FOR, THAT IS STILL GETTING IN EVERYONE’S WAY–augh,” Kaito groaned, running down the stairs and hurrying off in the direction the closest kid had run, “All of you will be GROUNDED! I will get a SHOVEL!”

“What’s ‘grounded’?” Sora wondered, as Riku and Kairi headed downstairs to join him on the first floor.

“I dunno… but the dog took my hacky sack.” Riku pouted.

“Oh! Hey…” Kairi paused, tilting her head at Mariam, “Lauriam? Marluxia?”

Mariam could only watch in impressed amusement, rolling his eyes a little as Kaito put a stop to the fun. Come on, your grace, trying to ruin the holiday spirit already~?

Though he gave his siblings a grin as they coalesced on the ground floor, joining them. “Both! And we can get your hacky sack back, I doubt the younger kids are going to miss out on what’s getting set up outside,” Mariam pointed over his shoulder at the doors with his thumb. “You guys want to check out the festival together? Just walking over I’ve seen people setting up all sorts of food and game stands, and I’ve been told there are performances around the parks and competitions ‘n stuff.”

“Oh!” Sora realized, “Hi Mariam.”

There might have been a brief moment of concern, or even fear. The teens all knew Lauriam and Marluxia could merge at will, but the last time they had seen it had been when they were really sick. Were they really sick again?

But Mariam himself seemed so calm that it was hard to be worried, Kairi speaking up with an enthusiastic grin, “Yeah! Everyone has been talking this up since we got here, we want to see what all the fuss is about!”

“Come on, like our standards are high.” Riku huffed, placing his hand on the back of Kairi’s head and pushing her a little, ignoring her outraged gasp, “The only festival any of us has ever been to was the one Viz put together for us.”

“Oh man, that and the masquerade…” Sora’s smile briefly tinged with sadness. An unspoken wish that she could have been there to see them go to their first, actual festival… but he shook it off. Smiling brightly at Mariam as he said, “Let’s go out! I bet we can beat all the games they’ve got set up, easy!”

“...there’s something shiny on your stomach,” Riku noticed, as the group headed out the door, “What is that?”

“Even seeing what a city budget could do, she’d probably still have ideas about what they could add, huh,” Mariam smiled softly, “We’ll bring some Dareka fun into what these Diceans have going on, they’ll’ve never seen anything like it.”

It wouldn’t just be for them, but with their experiences they could layer more memories into the island. Those pieces of their loved ones brought out into joyous freedom. 

As he took the lead out into the plaza, final decoration and food tables--these ones catching his eye, simply because they were labeled as ‘free’--being set up and a small stage seeming to be getting ready for something, Mariam snorted. “What, no comment on the shiny stuff on my shoulder, or chest, or back?”

It wasn’t like the shirt and piercing distracted from the scars that littered Mariam’s body. Maybe the fine mesh could cover some of the lighter ones, but there were more than enough warped and gnarled lines and splotches across his torso that were just undeniable. It was just his body. 

But now the things he could choose to put over it was a part of him too. Something, even cosmetic, that he could take back from all that had been taken. 

“I got a bellybutton piercing,” Mariam said simply, turning and placing a hand on his abdomen to press flat around the jewelry, making it easier to show off. “I’m thinking about getting a tattoo too at some point, but I think that’ll be a while after I get my apartment actually furnished.”

Riku blinked, looking more closely at Mariam’s stomach… “Cool.” He said, before looking down at his own shirt. Suddenly mildly disappointed he wasn’t wearing something similar. He had a nice belly-button, he could show it off…

Sora had lit up at the use of their last names–it was still something that brought him a lot of happiness, even if the family was still split apart and he wasn’t the head of it–before he sniffed the air and got excited. “Oh, let’s go get that! Whatever that is! Come on!”

As Sora led them to what would prove to be a stand of elephant ear pastries, Kairi noticed a few eyes staring at Mariam. It was hard to tell why. He looked really good, in a very flashy way, so maybe they were just appreciating his looks… but Kairi worried maybe it was the scars grabbing people’s eyes. She knew she found herself looking at his back especially. She had seen it plenty of times, of course, but it was still a painful display of what he had gone through.

(What they had gone through.)

To distract herself, she asked, “You’re getting a tattoo?”

“It is, thanks~” Mariam barely got through a sniff before laughing softly, easily following Sora’s lead at the switch. Or, Sora’s nose’s lead. “There’s this cool body mod shop in the shopping district that I passed when I was getting new clothes. They have all sorts of wild piercing jewelry that’s cool to admire just on its own,” he smirked a bit, nudging Riku’s shoulders, “But~ apparently there’s some laws about minors getting piercings on their own~ So I wouldn’t stroll over there on your own expecting to get something.”

Sora’s nose was on point. He could read the sign, thanks, but as far as he could tell, these ‘elephant ears’ were…fried dough coated in sugar? Which sounded amazing. 

As Dr. Mariah had mentioned several times, and that they all had known in a vague sort of way before the healers’ visits had confirmed it, they were all suffering from long-term malnutrition. Not even the last few months of eating better food more regularly had put more than a small dent in that. They’d all been suggested to keep up their newer diets, maybe seek out daily multivitamins or nutrition powders to stir into drinks…but mostly? They’d just been advised to eat more.

And Mariam was more than happy to join his growing siblings in a delicious treat. 

Heading to the stand, Mariam gave Kairi a nod. “Mhmm! I’m not sure what yet, and…like, okay,” he rolled his eyes a bit, “Do not tell him because I’ll never hear the end of it. But the style Axel’s tattoo is in is cool, right? I kind of want to get something like that.”

“Come on, we’re not ‘minors’. Dicea’s just weird.” Riku pouted, though he knew that wasn’t exactly an argument a Dicean shop would accept. He’d get a cool belly button ring someday, dammit.

At the reminder, Kairi nodded in agreement, “His dragon tattoo? It’s very cool, very… wispy. He told me it didn’t hurt the first half getting it, but the second half he thought he was going to cry.” Kairi laughed lightly, shaking her head, “I asked him why he bothered then. Said I wouldn’t understand. Thinks he’s sooooo mysterious.”

“He probably didn’t want to admit it was a bet or something.” Riku guessed, while Sora got to the front of the line, ordering four of the pastries, and pulling out a wallet, “Oh, Sora, we can pay for our own.”

“What do I work so hard for if not to buy my family treats.” Sora sniffed, ignoring Riku as he passed over some coins.

“You’re not working, that’s literally just the monthly allowance thing we get here.” Kairi snickered, “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Ey, I still have some coin leftover from when I was working in Luminary! I just got it converted.” Sora explained, “This is the money I got doing the deliveries. And I want to spend it on treats.”

“That’s Axel alright,” Mariam chuckled. “You guys will be in your 40s and he’ll still throw you the ‘you won’t understand ‘til you’re older’ bit. But I’d throw in a bet he just didn’t want to look silly with a half-finished tattoo, so that was worth the pain of it. Though that is absolutely something he’d commit to with a bet.”

As Sora ordered and paid for all their pastries, a small waver went through Mariam’s face. An internal fight of it’s fine/it’s not fine! wobbling the fabric of his being. However, one side seemed to win out as Mariam put his wallet away. “Thanks for the treat, then. Though you’ll have to expect me wanting to treat you back at some point.”

With a grin, Mariam rolled his eyes. “The latest assignment from my therapist is to go clothes shopping at all the, apparently, artisan and bespoke stalls that pop up during the festival, so look out. You’re gonna get something cool today.”

“Oooh, neat! I hope I find some new shorts. It’s getting hot.” Sora noted, chomping into his pastry as the four wandered back out into the festivities. 

As they looked around the stands, sticking close to each other as they maneuvered the growing crowds, Kairi looked up at Mariam. “So how’s the new place? Things better since the Luis thing?”

Mariam wasn’t sure exactly how hot it got in Dicea, but it was definitely warming up as spring settled in. Definitely couldn’t hurt to prepare summer clothes, just as they had with winter clothes, even if a place having that wide a range of temperature was a little baffling.

Even first thing in the morning it looked like things were getting started. Stalls calling out to early bird shoppers, flowering garlands strewn over streets, Mariam could faintly hear music wherever they walked…

“Definitely,” Mariam let out a small, tired laugh. “I sure wasn’t prepared to suddenly feel drunk blocks away from home, but I mostly chilled out with Axel once I got back. I still feel a little suspicious about how much space I have for the price I’m renting, but pretty much every place I looked at was like that, and it’s pretty nice all things considered. I even have room to have a desk just for crafting which will be really nice for not having thread and glue all over my room.”

“My neighbors seem pretty nice too. One of them was half-joking, I think, about hearing random music through the wall, but after living with Demyx forever I really doubt I’d even notice,” Mariam lightly chuckled.

“It still makes me a bit nervous that you left,” Sora admitted, giving Mariam a worried look as they passed a stand advertising catching small fish, “I know it was important to you, but… doesn’t it get unnerving? Being there by yourself?”

“It’s not like he’s far,” Riku defended, “And the first time something happened, like he said, Axel was able to get there easily. It’s not like he’s ever really just stranded or anything… well, assuming the castle kids are just exaggerating about how the snow gets…”

Mariam’s gaze softened and he reached over to put a hand on Sora’s back, jiggling him lightly. “It is weird. It’s not like I was while I was staying at the castle, but it’s weird not hearing your obnoxious snoring as I’m going to sleep, or having one of you rugrats spleen knee me to wake up, or even just knowing to wake up at a certain time ‘cause the old men will get grumbly about me not showing up to breakfast. The quiet of being somewhere alone is new, with all the things newness is.”

“But it’s not like things are ever truly quiet,” Mariam said, nodding up a little to reference the island, “And we can literally talk whenever we want. I’m doing everything I can think of to be safe, and like Riku said, I’m only a, what, 20 minute walk away if I need help? It’s not point-two-seconds, I know, but it’s really not that long in the scheme of things.”

For a moment, Mariam just glanced over his siblings, before he let out a sigh. “And I know you guys are joined at the hip, but if any of you start feeling like you need some space, for any reason, then my place can be that little bit of distance for you too, okay? You might not feel like you ever need to, and I’ll be happy if that holds true, but if you ever start feeling like you need to get away, or like you can’t go home because you don’t want to see anyone, please just come over rather than finding somewhere random in the city to hunker down in. You’re always welcome, no questions asked, even if I’m not there.”

He gave them a side-eye. “Though I would like a heads up. Axel scared the shit out of me for a second when he came over.”

“I mean, it’d be fun to just stay at your place sometimes,” Riku smiled.

Sora smiled even brighter, “And that would be okay, because even if Riku disappeared, I’d be able to find him really easily!”

“...how?” Riku asked, giving Sora an uncertain look.

“Oh, oh, look!” Kairi gasped, pointing out into the distance, “Those must be some of the clothing stalls your doctor mentioned, Mariam! Let’s check it out, I think I see Luminary fabrics!”

“I wonder if they have shoes? I could use another pair,” Sora mused, following Kairi to the stands.

Riku watched his friends go… before sighing, scratching his hand through his hair, “I know he heard me…”

Mariam knocked Riku’s shoulder, nudging him to walk with him after Sora and Kairi. “And when has he ever clearly answered anything about how weird he is about you? If I could take a guess, he’s probably done some crazy stuff with making your signature something he can always find, maybe asking Xigbar about how his tracking works.”

As they walked, Mariam gave Riku a slightly concerned look. “...you holding up alright? I know you guys have drank before, but Luis is usually pretty on it about limits. And the others have been snitching you haven’t been sleeping the best. Maybe it’s nothing big, but believe me, minor stuff can pile up before you know it.”

“He’s not ‘weird’, he’s just… I mean, he gets weird to Kairi too, sometimes, and… sometimes I think, in his head? He never really stopped chasing us out of the swamp.” Riku whispered, watching Kairi and Sora gush over some cool looking clothes, fascinating over the giant zippers, “Like he thinks any second we’re just going to disappear again. That I’ll leave again…”

“You ever wonder if we get stuck in a moment, and we never really move forward from it?” Riku murmured, before suddenly blushing, looking embarrassed, “That was stupid, nevermind. Being drunk didn’t feel that bad. We all just got kind of emotional, but it was mostly just us laughing at stuff that probably wasn’t that funny. And…” 

Riku looked around, motioning for Mariam to get closer, “Don’t tell anyone. It’ll freak out the others, and I don’t think it really meant anything, I think we were just feeling loopy and egging each other on, but… you remember when Larxene tried to convince you guys to play that game ‘Spin The Bottle’, and threw a fit because no one would?”

“...we played Spin the Bottle.” Riku whispered, looking a little anxious and grim… before suddenly laughing lightly, “I kissed a plant at one point. We made it a rule that wherever it landed, counted.”

Eyes lidding, unimpressed, Mariam flicked Riku’s ear. “Don’t get sheepish about that. As much as I’ll always insist that living in the present is important…” he let out a small, tired sigh, “...sometimes that’s way easier to say. The shitty stuff that happened to us sticks with us. And I don’t think it’s stupid at all to say that there are parts that we stick in instead. Sora’s not wrong to be scared of you guys disappearing--it happened once and shook him to his core.”

“But,” Mariam emphasised, “that doesn’t make him right to, I dunno, stalk you or do weird mind stuff in that same vein. Along with just being weird for you, doing something excessive to keep you safe just keeps him in that mindset of one of the worst times in his life.” 

Not that Mariam really knew what to do about all that. He was still sorting it out for himself, and he knew that he and Sora weren’t the only ones in their family dealing with something similar. For a long time, the only way life was bearable was through the power of memories--it wasn’t stupid at all to think they had some trouble moving on. 

But there were more mundane troubles too.

Mariam snorted before letting out a laugh. “I think you’re overestimating the freakout, but sure, sure~ I’ll keep your little secret. Aw, that’s cute. Larxy would be furious at a group of friends playing, since that was the reasoning Zexy and I gave to not play it with her.”

“Again, we were drunk. I’m kind of worried Luis will do that, you know… ‘woe is me I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to anyone’ thing he does sometimes,” Riku explained, “Like he sabotaged our first kisses by getting us randomly day drunk.”

“And I know. Sora’s a bit much, sometimes… but I don’t really want to be separated from him either, right now. It’s complicated, I’m not sure how to feel about it.” Riku shrugged a touch helplessly, “It’s both really reassuring and absolutely annoying, how he gets. And it’s hard to decide how much of that ‘reassuring’ feeling I’d want to give up, to be less annoyed by it all.”

“He will,” Mariam said with total confidence, “because Luis is the type to take all of that sort of stuff into himself. But if you guys have fun and don’t regret what happened, then if he starts to get down on himself about it, I think hearing that would help. You guys are 16, it’s not like we don’t think you’d ever smuggle away a bottle and do silly shit on your own terms, and if Axel had enough heads up to meet up with me, then Even and Aeleus definitely let you guys know what was happening, right? Uncle Luis won’t feel like it’s fine, but hearing that it turned out alright will help.”

From that totally sage advice, though, Mariam gave Riku another look before pulling him to his side in a quick hug. “Good for you that no one’s expecting you to separate then, hm? And anyone that’d have the audacity to suggest it deserves a good middle finger in their face.”

“Look, Riku… We’re fucked up.” Mariam shrugged plainly. “Our whole family is twisted up in each other in messed up ways, and your and Sora’s relationship is just one part of it. But the conclusion we’ve all come to is that it’s ours, and it’s not something we’re gonna give up just because it’s weird. There are things we can change to treat each other better, ‘cause we have different lives now so that needs different things, but the change isn’t gonna be, like, ‘cut each other off’ or ‘end a relationship’. It’s just to not be in survival mode all the time, so we don’t have to clutch as tightly.”

Riku gave an embarrassed little huff as Mariam pulled him into the hug, immediately smoothing out his clothes and looking around to see who had seen when Mariam let him go. Once he determined no one had seen him receiving affection–the scandal–he sighed, “Yeah, I get it. It’s not like it’s all or nothing, just…I don’t know. Feelings are hard. Sometimes I think even Ansem is better at feelings than I am. At least he knows what he likes.”

At the stalls, Sora and Kairi cheered. They had found clothes!! With big!! Zippers!! Woo!!

Riku stared at his friends… before giving Mariam a sheepish look. He wanted to go check out some of that big zipper action. “Mind if I…”

As it looked to Mariam, Ansem was still figuring that out too. “Feelings are hard’, wise words there, squirt,” Mariam snorted. Though, he did mean that genuinely. They were hard and messy and very rarely even got close to ‘all or nothing’ extremes, tending to settle into nuances that’d take a damn hour to parse out verbally. Bullshit if he ever knew it. 

Raising an eyebrow at Riku’s sheepishness, Mariam gave him a sharp grin. “Bet I can find something I like faster than you can for you.”

“What? How is that even a–HEY! No cheating!” Riku gasped when Mariam bolted forward, not waiting for Riku to agree, Riku running to catch up. “Sora, Kairi, find me something cool!”

“Uh, what? Like, with big zippers?” Sora asked.

“Something yellow!”

“...on it!” Kairi shouted, determinedly looking through the pile.

-

It was said once by Gula that, compared to how things used to be? Both in and out of the factory, that these days, Linnea and Xigbar had essentially let their little group off the leash. They allowed the Ribata group to move around on their own, enjoy their days in the castle how they liked, they weren’t being given endless busy work that made their days both easy to predict and kept them too tired to take any real risks. It felt like since they had made it to Dicea, made it to the castle, settling in beside the Togami empaths, in a literal, actual castle? That the two eldest empaths of the group had finally relaxed. Were no longer on ‘everything is an emergency, keep everyone alive’ mode.

The city being literally packed with festival goers out in the street–and inside of the castle as well–in a festival that none of them were familiar with or knew how to predict? 

Kokichi had to interfere, because he had gotten word that Xigbar was attempting to restrict his people to their rooms for the entire festival day. Kokichi had been gentle and understanding and kind, but had essentially said that, considering the age of everyone involved? Restricting everyone to their rooms was lowkey, uh, imprisonment. And illegal. And the festival would be fun! And you can’t actually lock your family away. Enjoy the festival!

Xigbar had relented, partially because Linnea had taken Kokichi’s cue and taken Xigbar aside to talk some reason into him. And now? The group was out. Checking out the festival. Everyone having… fun.

…or, at least, no one actively panicking. Wow. It was busy. And loud. There were a lot of bright colors and loud music and people walking to and fro wherever you went. Even the ‘chiller’ empaths were taking some adjustment to deal with the strange new environment. Hao kept blinking in and out of existence, which was standard, but the others kept finding out the hard way that they were blinking in and out of peoples ability to see them as well, because Hao’s idle anxiety in the crowd kept reacting by cloaking the whole group randomly. It had only been an hour and Ira looked absolutely exhausted, his head hanging lightly. Xigbar’s eyes were darting around like he was trying to see everything at once. And Aced…

…actually, Aced was doing fine, as he looked around at the giant flower displays in awe. “Look at how big these sunflowers are! They look like trees!”

Gula had been in crowds before, thank you very much. He might’ve been a delinquent, but he had been a social delinquent back home and that had meant he spent time in the heart of Agniratha and went to school and went to festivals. As much as loud emotions were loud to him, he’d never found it too much of a bother in big crowds. The fact that he usually found his friends and squirreled off to do something where the crowds were thinner was totally unrelated. 

Still, uh, people sure were celebrating the holiday spirit. Loudly. Excited, joy-filled feelings weren’t the worst to have clamoring in his head, but Gula still found himself walking with the others and not commenting on much, unable to find his own thoughts in the din.

Even Xehanort looked a little overwhelmed, having not been in a crowd this big…ever. Usott on a regular day was all hustle and bustled, and normally that was fascinating as he and Hao explored and followed the daily lives of random Diceans. That was along the lines of what he had been expecting for the holiday. 

Try multiplying that by two. 

Linnea was doing a better job hiding her reservations than them, but her head was on a swivel, her cheery comments on things doubling as proof of her surveillance, and a few of them wouldn’t be surprised to find small bruises on their shoulders from how she’d pull them out of--usually Hao-blind--people’s paths. 

And Invi…Invi was trying. 

“Wow… I’d read that they were big, but I was expecting something more bush-height,” she marveled, “Not over people-height. The ones we saw before were huge, but I thought…” She shrugged a little, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid in this very public space. She’d thought that the sunflowers on the island were fantasy, upkept by Lauriam’s strange inclination for all things floral. Not that he’d literally based them on what sunflowers actually looked like. 

“I think I understand more why Diceans have a whole holiday dedicated to flowers, when they can grow all sorts like this.” Invi attempted a smile. 

“Seriously! I mean, we’ve seen a lot of pretty flowers and such traveling, but this is on another level,” Aced grinned excitedly, easily moving around people as he admired the flowers on display, “I thought I had a good sense of what nature could do, growing up where I did, but comparing to this? So cool!”

“Closer.” Xigbar said.

Aced jumped a little, before sheepishly hurrying back to the group. He had started wandering further out then he was supposed to. Xigbar didn’t like a range that made peoples futures more… ‘individual’. If the group kept close together? What happened to one of them happened to the group, not the person. Much easier to keep track of.

Once Aced was back in his proper place, Xigbar smiled, looking around. “It sure is impressive! I’ve heard you can eat some flowers. Think any of these big guys can be nibbled on? Dare one of you to bite a petal.”

“Considering all the flowers I’ve spotted by food stands, I’m not sure the edible ones are on display,” Linnea laughed behind a hand, “Or, rather, ones that don’t taste awful.”

“You can eat most kinds of cactus, before even the fruit, but that seems to be a type of plant that doesn’t grow abundantly around here,” Xehanort muttered, gently pulling on Hao’s hand to keep him from drifting away. 

“We likely shouldn’t mess with the displays people are enjoying, sir,” Invi quietly suggested. 

The last festival she’d gone to--because they’d all just hidden out in Linnea’s house during Atua Week--had been years ago, with Ira and their parents. It hadn’t been a national holiday, just more of a fair that their town was putting on because life was nice when there were things to celebrate. She’d felt a little embarrassed going around with her parents and not her friends at 17, but her mom and dad had jokingly insisted. They’d gotten the day off to enjoy the fair, and since she and Ira would be off to college soon, it was like one last big fun thing their family could do together.

That was the last one she’d gone to. 

[“I’m totally dragging you to this when we get out of here,” Oddy bragged, looking around her memory of what she’d declared was the best place to celebrate Atua Week in the capital, her neighborhood making their block look like a carnival with the festivities. “If Atua needs to make things up to anyone, it’s us, so we’ll take the next holiday by storm, Invi!”]

Invi clasped her hands over her stomach to keep them from shaking.

Ira glanced down at his sister, noticing the strain in her body language. He lightly put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Reassuringly…

“Oh,” Hao said, lightly bumping his shoulder against Xehanort as his friend yoyo’d him back to his side, Hao drifting off in somewhat self-defense, dissociating as the crowd overwhelmed him… but his vision focusing as his mind turned back on, focusing on something that interested him as he said, “People are performing on that stage. Should we go watch?”

Invi glanced up at Ira, giving him an attempt at a smile for the squeeze. Maybe there was just something wrong with them, that ‘regular life’ seemed terrifying and something unachievable. But after arriving in Usott, looking into what moving on might actually look like, participating in the Termina game, Invi wanted to try. At least right now, at least today, in this festival, there was some worth in trying to enjoy the festival around them like a normal person. 

Didn’t mean it wasn’t hard, but when had anything been?

Linnea’s gaze latched onto what Hao had noted, and after a moment of analysis, she gave the group a smile. “That sounds like a wonderful suggestion, Hao! We have been walking around for a while, it’ll be nice to rest and watch something.” She glanced briefly to Xigbar. “If we’re all staying in one place, too, it might be a good time for bathroom breaks and to get food, if anyone’s worked up an appetite. We’ve passed so many great smells, I’d be surprised if no one had!”

Xehanort raised an eyebrow as he looked at Ira’s drooping figure and Ava’s jittery energy. There was a fair chance queasiness counteracted any appetite.

Xigbar blinked, staring at the paths to the future only he could see… before he grinned, nodding with Linnea, “Good idea, it’ll be a nice break and a good show! Come on, there’s a nice shady area that will have a great view this way.”

Xigbar lead the way to the exact space he was talking about, and like he had promised, it was a great spot. Lightly up a pathway wall that had evened out some of the parks pathways up a hill, sitting on the green pathway above the wall gave them a great view of the stage, where a play was going on for the park festival goers. It could have been directly in the sun, but by chance there was clouds in the sky that just happened to put that particular spot in and out of warm sun and then cooling shade. The food stands and bathroom areas a quick and easy walk up and down the paths  that the wall had been built to support in the first place.

Ava settled in, letting her legs hang over the wall as she watched the stage. “I’ve actually never seen a play in real life…”

“Same.” Hao smiled lightly, freeing Xehanort’s hand as he settled beside her, “I’ve read quite a few though. I hope it’s one of the tragic ones. Probably not though, it wouldn’t fit the vibe of the day.”

“Ira, walk whoever wants to go off to do a food run or bathroom break” Xigbar said, “It’s your responsibility to make sure everyone gets there and back without trouble.”

“Oh, uh… yes sir–”

“I could help!” Aced said, raising his hand earnestly, “I could walk with someone!”

His hand might’ve been freed, but Xehanort still plopped down on Hao’s other side, breathing a little easier without people literally pressing in on all sides. And that was enough to let him smirk a bit as he looked over to the stage play. “You never know, people are publicly into some weird stuff here. They could be putting on a drama and people would be enjoying the depths of narrative.”

Gula had to blink a few times as Linnea gave his shoulders a squeeze, giving her a small nod at the inquiring smile. Though, as he took a breath, he cocked his head at Ira, nodding over to some of the food stalls. “I def want to take a look at the food. Deere said that, at least for the last big festival, people go all out for specialty treats, both in like food service, but also for more personal things people make big batches of to impress the royal family. I have to see how crazy it really gets.”

Invi looked between them all, taking in their moods and wishes, and-- 

“Bathroom,” she quickly murmured, before hurriedly amending, “We could all get back faster if we split into two groups.”

“Oh, easy! Ira can take one group, I can take the other–”

“Invi, you can watch one group, Ira the other.” Xigbar said, looking around the group with a smile, “Anyone who needs the bathroom, go with Invi. Anyone who wants food? Go with Ira.”

“Oh…” Aced deflated, “Uh, I mean, I still could–”

“Take a hint, Aced.” Xigbar said, patting the teen on the back, “You hungry? Gonna go with Ira?”

Aced looked uncertainly down the two ends of the path, before looking to Invi, “Guess I could go with you, Invi?”

“I could use a bathrooms as well.” Hao admitted, hopping off the wall.

“Ira, Gula, could you grab me some food? Anything, I’m not feeling picky.” Ava said.

“Got’cha,” Gula gave Ava a thumbs up, and while Xehanort hadn’t said anything, just leaning back to watch the clouds with as much interest as he had the play, they’d likely bring stuff back for him, Xigbar, and Linnea too. There was enough diversity in the Dicean cooking he’d already seen to not want to try a lot of things, and between them all, it’d get eaten. 

As the food group headed off, Invi gave a small nod to Aced and Hao before leading the way to the bathrooms in the opposite direction, picking out their footsteps even with the other people passing by to make sure they didn’t veer off alone. 

It was good, getting a little space in the spot Xigbar had picked out. A bathroom stall would be even more private for a few moments, though.

Aced lead the way to the bathrooms, which thankfully didn’t have a line. But Aced paused, giving the small park building a confused look. Looking around the corner of it, before checking the door. “...is it all one bathroom?” He realized, seeing the toilet sign.

“As opposed to…?” Hao asked.

“I mean, well…” Aced shifted uncomfortably, looking at the door, “...I guess you wouldn’t know any different, huh Hao? Wasn’t exactly a thing in the factory, but usually, public restrooms are divided by gender? Maybe it’s… different in Dicea?”

“Why would you give different genders different doors to the bathroom? Seems inefficient.” Hao said, dismissively heading inside.

“No, it’d be whole different parts of the–Hao, don’t just go off on your own!” Aced said worriedly, heading in with him. 

Invi had noted the same thing as they approached, hesitating for a moment. It hadn’t been something she noticed in the castle--she mostly just used the bathroom that was attached to her room, and it’d be bizarre for private bathrooms like that to have a gender marker. And when she was looking around town, she usually wasn’t out long enough to have to go, so…

Aced really was the better one to look after their group right now. Invi stood for a moment outside the bathroom--undivided, all together--before she took a breath and headed inside. 

Thankfully, the bathroom still had individual stalls, and seemed about as well-maintained as their own bathroom back in the factory. Maybe even better, honestly, due to a greater abundance of cleaning products, if she had to guess. 

So it’d do. 

Slipping inside a stall, Invi put the seat down and sat down, leaning over her knees. And for a moment, she just breathed. 

Aced was doing something very similar in the next stall over. Just… taking the quiet moment to compose himself.

He was having a good time! He liked the festival, he liked the beautiful sights and fun music. But Xigbar putting the leash back on the group was starting to wear Aced down. It was hard… it felt like Xigbar was mocking him, sometimes–

Click. Click. Click.

Aced felt his whole body freeze in sudden, learned fear. His breath holding in his body as he stared at the blue, closed in walls of the stalls.

Heels… heels against tiles… it sounded so much like… the way the supervisors had used to patrol– {do you guys hear that?}

Once again, Invi was mirroring Aced. Maybe it was fortunate she was already on a toilet, for the way her stomach suddenly lurched, terror running ice through her veins and freezing her still. 

It was obvious where they were, there was enough of a gap under the stalls to see their shoes. But there was no use picking up your feet, because then they’d just start slamming open the stalls one by one, and you knew where the others were, so you knew who’d be found first, and if they were annoyed enough, really thought you were hiding, then--

Invi covered her mouth to muffle down a sob, her vision starting to blur in fright. 

This wasn’t the time. Crying puts an even bigger target on your back. There’s no time to grieve, there never is, so stand strong and maybe you’ll last another day. 

{Stay put,} she told the boys. 

Flushing the toilet, Invi paused a moment before stepping out from her stall, eyes low but sharply taking in everything around her. Hanami had landed on a warm, sunny day, so Invi had worn a tanktop, but even with sunscreen she’d still opted to wear a light jacket for more protection. Within her sleeves, Invi balled her fists, adjusting the ring Linnea had given her. 

They weren’t even close to brass knuckles by any stretch of the imagination, but like the stakes Linnea always wore her hair up in, there were certain things women could wear and people wouldn’t think twice about a pretty accessory.

Cautiously, Invi went over to the sink, watching the feet of the new person in the bathroom. 

Phooooosh.

Click, click, click– “Scuse me babe, just gotta–thank youuuu~” Amber coo’d, getting into the sink next to Invi, washing her hands before, with practiced ease, taking out a handbag and pulling out a makeup kit, opening it up and pulling out a lipstick tube, “Man, it’s been a hot spring, hasn’t it? This is the third time today I’ve had to reapply, just because I keep drinking water! The things we do for beauty~”

{...why do I have to stay put?} Hao finally asked, genuinely confused. 

{Do you need backup, Invi!?} Aced sent out.

Young woman, seemed to be in good shape, a little taller than Invi, though that could really just be the heels. 

…not…not a threat.

That didn’t make her heart slow down any. 

{It’s. Fine. Stay.}

No amount of lessons learned about staying sharp and attentive made Invi’s hands stop shaking as she washed her hands, keeping the woman’s bag in the corner of her vision. “Better than getting dehydrated, though,” she said softly, voice surprisingly even. “Shade helps a lot, too.”

For as nerve-wracking but ultimately harmless this interaction was, Invi’s heart just about leapt into her throat when there was a sudden

SLAM!!

“Duuuuude, noooo! You’re go-gonna break the door!” an overly giggly voice admonished as heavy, uncoordinated footsteps sounded like death knells as they plodded over the bathroom tile. An entirely careless, “Whoopsie!” a response that really should’ve been the warning that spurred Invi into action. 

Instead, she felt frozen as a couple of clearly drunk and jovial festival-goers entered the bathroom.

Amber halted slightly at the slam… before she huffed as she saw a few people sort of stagger in, the scent of alcohol only confirming what you could tell at a glance. Really? Amber enjoyed a good drink herself, but it was still early in the festival! Was it even noon??

Amber caught the girl she was talking to’s eyes before, smirking and slightly rolling her eyes. Partiers, huh? So obnoxious.

She went back to the mirror, finishing up her makeup. Amber wasn’t really expecting anything more happening beyond the group being too loud in their bathroom going activities… but she frowned and looked over her shoulder as one of the girls, hanging off one of the guys arms and clearly struggling to stay upright… giggled as she looked at Invi, “Oh my gawd, I love you so, sooooo much! Look at you! You’re so itty-bitty!”

????what did you say to that what what???

It never really mattered what was actually said. If you understood the general intent, then there were only a few correct responses. For a ‘compliment’, supervisors generally got pissed off if you ‘ignored’ them. So the correct response was:

Slowly backing up from the sink along the wall--getting out of the way. Closer to an exit, even if she didn’t totally believe she’d abandon Aced and Hao while they were hiding--Invi crossed her hands over her waist subserviently and looked down, murmuring a soft, empty, “Thank you.”

“Oh no!” one of the men laughed, “Please don’t get embarrassed, she - she totally means it legit! Like, look’atcha, I could arm curl ya.”

The other man snorted, “No way, man.”

And even with her gaze pointed down, Invi’s heart started hammering even harder at the glimmer of competition she didn’t see. Barely moving along the wall at all as the first man walked up to her as if in slow motion, unable to run. It was useless to run. Running only got you--

[Invi squeezed Ira’s hand so hard she could feel the shift of his bones as they watched Polaris tackle the supervisor over the wall, horrified.]

Invi’s vision went white from fear as a strong arm hefted her up by her waist.

Snap! Snap!

Amber snapped her fingers a few more times, before whistling at the guy, “Ey, ey! Doooown big dog, down. I mean it.” Amber said, snapping again to get the drunk guys attention, smirking lightly as she pointed insistently at the floor, “Put ‘er down. You didn’t ask to pick her up.”

The man blinked before grinning with embarrassment, quickly, though with more gentle coordination than you might expect for someone blasted, setting Invi back down. “Oh shit, sorry girl, my b…uh…”

Invi had gone farther down than just touching down on the floor. Her legs had collapsed under her, sending her right into a heap on the floor. Her entire body visibly shaking as puffs of air escaped tight lips, Invi very obviously trying to stifle the onset of hyperventilation. Terrified tears running down her face. 

All drunken joy left the man as he slowly backed up. “Shit, fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Uh, maybe we should use a different bathroom,” the other guy said uncertainly, before looking to Amber, “You with her?”

Amber was about to answer, but it felt like she blinked and suddenly the room was different. But she couldn’t place why, even as she stared at the back of the head of a boy that had… been there? Before…?

Hao smiled up at the drunken man, standing at his feet. “Actually, you all saw a great bush you could use. Why didn’t you use that?”

The woman, who had been looking at Invi in concern, gave Hao a bewildered look… before she realized, oh! Oh, that was right! Why hadn’t they just used that bush? There was a whole bush, just outside the restroom area! “Guys, let’s just go.”

“Uh, ah, geez, Invi?” Aced asked, coming out of the stall the second he heard Hao’s voice, giving the teen a worried look before focusing on Invi, kneeling down next to her. But as he did he sent to Hao {Stop that! You’re going to get us into trouble!}

Hao didn’t stop smiling sweetly… but he did pull back the tether, and the insistence that the three would need to pee in a bush.

“R-right, uh…sorry,” one of the men called back to Invi, before stumbling out with his drunken cohort just as gracelessly as they’d come in. 

Invi didn’t pay it any mind, nor did she join in on Aced’s chastising. Really, the only things she noticed were familiar voices. Hao and Aced. And if they were talking casually, it meant that the supervisors weren’t there, and even if it was useless and they were all in the same boat so there was no reason to make a fuss about it…

A small whine escaped between Invi’s ragged breaths as she started crying harder, reaching out onto the edge of Aced’s shirt.

“Um, so I’m guessing you two do know each other?” Amber asked, before shaking her head, “Sorry, three. I am having a very hard keeping track of you for some reason, kid.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hao said, looking a little sad as he watched Invi, “That was stupid. You should have just told me you were scared. I could have protected you.”

Aced ignored Hao, reaching around Invi to scoop her up into his lap as he knelt. Partly to be comforting, yes, but mostly he wanted her off of this bathroom floor. Invi deserved better than this, she was amazing, and Aced was conflicted between wanting to get her out of this small, terrible bathroom, versus bringing her out to where people were, who might point and laugh or be cruel that she was crying. 

Amber squatted down, not sure exactly how to help but knowing she couldn’t walk away from someone like this, as she said, “Hey, sorry about those guys. They were just being drunk and stupid, but none of them should have touched you like that. I’d have freaked too in your position.”

That wasn’t true. Amber was much more used to dealing with drunken impulses and probably would have laughed it off. But she could still see how it would freak someone out, and that felt more important than the truth right then. “Would some water help? Hey, baby-tough-guy, they’re giving out water bottles in a stand nearby. Why don’t you grab one for her?”

Hao blinked, “Me?”

“Hao, please?” Aced said.

“....kaaaay.” Hao said, huffing a bit as he headed out.

Brought into far more familiar arms, Invi clung to Aced, turning her head against him to hide and muffle already relatively quiet tears. They might’ve not had the close sibling relationship the other Empaths regarded each other with, but Aced was still someone Invi had known for years by this point, and someone she’d gone through horrors with. 

It wasn’t exactly that crying or breaking down had been discouraged. In front of the supervisors, of course, because that was just asking for trouble, but among each other it was…more complicated. Linnea had always been adamant about coming to her if you felt yourself crumbling from the circumstances, and they had never been told to numb themselves completely out of emotions. 

But getting closer to that was…safer. There was no way to escape the fear and pain, so if you could trick yourself into not feeling it, that was ideal. There was constant tragedy, so it was best not to get attached enough for the grief to overcome you upon its inevitability. They were all scared, and sometimes hearing someone else’s sorrow was just too painful to take. Why did you get to cry, shut up, we’re trying to sleep. 

There were no concrete walls around them here, and for all his frustrations, someone else’s pain had never been one of Aced’s. So Invi cried and trembled in his arms, hiding that weakness from the rest of the world against someone she knew she could trust.

Aced didn’t say much. Platitudes had felt empty in the factory, and now he didn’t have the skill for it even if things were better and they were out. But he held her tighter and made use of his broad body to be steady and covering, because that was the best sort of comfort someone like him could have offered in the factory, and so he knew how to do that. 

But Amber did know how to platitude, as she huffed in a small, sympathetic cooing sound, assuring, “Everything’s alright now, you’re not in any danger. You’re in the middle of a big, beautiful festival, there isn’t anything for you to worry about here. Especially not when you’ve got big and handsome here to watch out for you, not to mention whatever trick you’re intimidating little friend pulled to do that whole ‘just appearing’ thing he did. You’re fine baby~ it’s all good here.”

Hao came back with the water bottle, bringing it over to Aced. “Should I call for someone?”

Aced hesitated, “...um… uh, m-maybe not? No. We can handle this.”

At first it was uncertain if Invi even registered Aced and Amber’s attempts to comfort her at all, but as Hao and Aced debated over getting someone, she peeked a watery eye out from Aced’s chest. Voice shaking, she murmured, “P-please don’t… Mr. Xigbar’s going to be s-so mad…”

She had been meant to look after Aced and Hao, after all. An incident like this happening at all, when he’d been on full alert trying to keep them all safe, having to be convinced to let them come to the festival in the first place… He’d just order them to stay at the castle for the next week, or even more, hearing about this. Invi didn’t want to be the person setting everyone back just because she’d failed her task.

Aced didn’t want to tell for, basically, the exact same reasons. Any sign of danger, any failure, was possibly an excuse for Mr. Xigbar to go back to his not-that-old ways. If this got back to him? Forget just being confined to the castle, the group could end up ‘keeping busy’ by cleaning their bathrooms with toothpicks. 

They didn’t… need that! They didn’t need to be kept locked away and too busy to make trouble! This was a festival and they could handle this and it was going to be fine! Invi was just shaken! That was all!

Amber looked back and forth between Hao, Aced and Invi, frowning a bit… before saying, “Okaaaay, well, I don’t know what that’s about, but I think this is a case of needing a Quiet Room if I’ve ever seen one.”

“...a what?” Aced asked uneasily. That didn’t sound good.

But Amber went on to explain, “A quiet room. The festivals set up these sort of big tents around these parts, and inside there’s these sitting areas with all this sort of natural white noise, like running water and such. You can go into those if the festival starts to overwhelm you. I don’t know if Luminary has the same sort of things–”

“How did you know we were Luminary?” Hao asked, genuinely confused, even as his accent thickly went over the words.

“Oh, well… just a guess. You guys seem like you’ve seen a lot of sun.” Amber decided to go with, standing up, “But come on, the Quiet Rooms are nice. Very chill.”

Aced frowned… “Do you want to?” He asked Invi quietly.

At first, the name suggested something sinister in Invi’s mind. A place where you were quieted. 

But as far as she could tell--and Hao, who would know more clearly than her, would’ve sent a message--the woman was being genuine. Had, honestly, been nothing but nice since coming into the bathroom, even if her heels had unsettled them, but that wasn’t her fault or intention. 

…and Invi couldn’t go back to their sitting spot like this. They were meant to just do a bathroom break and come right back, but it’d just be the same as contacting Xigbar or Linnea if they walked back over right now, with Invi still shaking a bit and her face tear-stained. 

Invi sniffed softly. “...Hao, can you tell Xehanort we’re getting food after the bathroom?”

No matter who they contacted, through intent the recipient would be able to tell they were lying. But Xehanort would cover for Hao’s lie and tell Xigbar and Linnea the message as if it were the truth without hesitation, and without him knowing more, they wouldn’t pick up a lie from him. And it really wouldn’t be questioned why Hao would tell them rather than their leaders, and it would be easily assumed that he’d just sent a message faster than Invi and Aced would think to.

Hao briefly looked startled at the request… before he smiled, putting together the threads she had. His affection and respect for her, as it always did when he noticed her being clever, growing a little stronger.

-

Saying the tent was ‘big’ had given Aced the idea that maybe it’d be largely enough to potentially stand in, if one maybe ducked their head a bit if they were roughly Aced’s size.

This was not that. This was the size of a damn house.

The fabric was both thick and colorful, the sun above managing to illuminate the colorful shapes stained into the tent fabric in a way that made them almost mesmerizing to look at. And while you could still hear the noise of the festival outside the tent, the noise was dulled by both the thickness of the fabric, but also the steady, repetitive sounds of fountains and running water, the tent decorated with lounging seats and plants, as little man-made streams of bamboo and and the musical sound of water hitting crystal tanks filled the air.

They weren’t the only people making use of the quiet room, and Aced was mildly surprise to see those people not being as the room suggested, ‘silent’. But their voices were low, not quite a whisper but definitely hushed, even in small moments of laughter.

Amber led the group to a sitting area in the corner, where chimes were gently drifting, hanging from one of the water pipes that was vibrating enough as the water moved to cause the chimes to gently chingle, as Amber stretched onto one of the chairs, “See? This place isn’t so bad, right? You all looked so spooked when I mentioned it, maybe they should call it something nicer, like the ‘little bit of noise but it’s soooo nice’ room.”

“You’re being very accommodating to people you don’t know.” Hao said, gently tucking his feet beneath him as he chose to sit down on the grass itself, cooled by the shade of the tent. “I’m Hao, by the way. This is Aced and Invi.”

“Amber,” Amber greeted with a wink, gently tapping the amber necklace she was wearing, “Like the stone.”

If she hadn’t been feeling utterly horrible, Invi would’ve been properly astounded by the Quiet Room. Forget not just being as sinister as the name suggested, it looked…magical inside. Like the coziest illustration of a traveller’s rest in some high fantasy novel, or a depiction of an oasis stop more fanciful than technical. She would’ve been able to imagine just how a composition of the tent would work, how to highlight characters within it if it wasn’t just to be a beautiful picture of a space…

But as it was, Invi just felt a small sigh of relief as they headed over to some seats. She’d calmed down a little just on the walk over, but a muffled, spirited away place like this really felt like somewhere she could just take a second to screw her head back on. 

Taking sips from the water Hao had fetched, Invi smiled weakly and bowed her head to Amber, not catching the pink head across the way that rose slightly from the ground at Amber’s name, before lying back down. “Thank you for your help, Amber. I…really appreciate it.”

Eyes cast down, Invi’s lips tensed. “...I know I should’ve just spoken up about not…not being picked up, but…”

“Girl, that’s not how that should have gone,” Amber tsked, wrapping her hair around her hand and pulling it over one of her shoulders, giving the back of her neck some air to cool down with, “There was, what, two seconds where maybe he thought about it before he grabbed you? I didn’t even realize what he was about to do before he did it, and I was on the outside watching. Course you didn’t see it coming.”

“And I said something basically as soon as it started,” Amber shrugged, “Meaning I didn’t really give you time to say anything for yourself. It couldn’t have gone any other way. It all happened too quickly. Give yourself some grace.”

“I should have come out to check on you sooner,” Aced murmured, looking shame-faced, “Shouldn’t have let you go out by yourself.”

Amber’s brow knotted in confusion. “...go out of the bathroom stall? By herself?”

“We’re very close.” Hao said dryly, that smile on his face never wavering, but it clearly much more mocking just by context.

Maybe, but if Invi hadn’t frozen so much before…there had been plenty of time to separate herself from that group, or to ensure they wouldn’t pay her any mind. Instead, she just hadn’t done anything. Paralyzed by the prospect of something going wrong so much that something actually had. 

Gold eyes welled again as Invi took a shaky breath. “I told you to stay. I know… I know things are safer here, but,” she squinted in shame, “I’m supposed to protect you guys. We don’t know what sorts of danger are here, and I can’t…do anything to help if I don’t know, so it’s better if you’re out of any harm’s way at all.”

“If he wouldn’t just insist on not splitting us up, maybe I should’ve just stayed in today,” Invi murmured.

“...okaaaaaay, but liiiiiiiike, are you guys in a cult?” Amber asked, tilting her head as Hao just suddenly laughed, “Or are you siblings and your dad has not noticed that you’re fully grown yet?”

“Actually, he’s 19,” Hao smirked lightly, pointing to Aced, “So not quite, at least here.”

“Oh! …” Amber squinted at Aced, before nodding, “Actually, I can see it now. Question still stands though.”

“We’re not in a cult… that’s like a religion, right? We’re Atuan?” Aced asked.

“Are you asking?” Hao realized when he saw Aced look genuinely more confused, “Technically? Well, you definitely are, you were raised it. I just lived in an Atuan society. Sort of.”

“What does that mean?” Amber asked.

“It’s a bit silly to say it, but ‘dad who refuses to acknowledge his children are adults’ is actually probably closer, while still being wildly inaccurate.” Hao smiled.

“He’s not our dad…though he did help raise you,” Invi weakly smiled, nudging Hao’s knee with her foot. “But he… Mr. Xigbar helped us through a very difficult time, we owe a lot to him, and he just wants to make sure we’re alright. Even if those methods can be a bit extreme. I don’t believe that qualifies as a cult, though.”

Eyes low, though more from thoughtfulness this time, Invi said, “We’re not restricted on who we can talk to, and we’re not prevented from leaving. We’re not told all about how ‘scary’ the ‘outside world’ is.” Xigbar’s fearmongering tended to be more focused than just the world at large…though as Invi qualified that in her mind, she hesitated on her next point. “...he…isn’t above questioning.”

…though, ‘listen to Xigbar because he’s right’ was something that they were told. And saw was true for themselves. Even to herself it felt like a weak defense, but she still felt like genuine clairvoyance wasn’t something cult identification considered in their criteria.

“He and Miss Linnea debate quite often, so we aren’t under a single person’s direction either.”

“You know a lot about this sort of stuff. More than I do.” Amber noticed.

Aced straightened, looking proud as he said, “Invi is smart. Educated too.”

“Not always connected, but in this case, yes, both are true.” Hao said. 

“Mr. Xigbar…” Aced hesitated. It was hard to explain Mr. Xigbar to other people. The man was hard to understand even for those who had known him for years, because… “He’s nice–”

“Pff.” Hao pff's dismissively, “He’s insane.”

“He’s nice, but in a hard to grasp way.” Aced insisted, “He’s fun. He wants things to be fun, and relaxed, and he wants to be the kind of person who can just go with the flow and let everyone else do that too… but he’s scared to death of everything. And he’s worried that if he stops being scared, that’s when all of the things he’s scared of are going to take advantage, and come for him, and all of us.”

Hao didn’t have a snarky comment for that. He just gave Aced a genuinely surprised look. If he was honest… he hadn’t thought Aced could put together thoughts like that. Aced had never, as far as Hao had ever seen, been shown to consider anything with any sort of depth. Hao had dismissed him as being too simple to do it ages ago.

“So it makes him act a little erratic,” Aced admitted, giving Amber a sheepish look, “I think he’s been trying to calm down lately, but if he hears Invi was grabbed in the bathrooms? Everything is going to go on lockdown again, he’s going to be terrified again. And we… I respect him a lot. I listen, when he gets scared like that. I always hope at some point it will make him feel better…”

“That’s tough,” Amber whistled, resting her cheek against her palm, “I have an aunt who can get like that. She gets that way for the weather. Every winter is the end of the world in her mind, so the rest of us have to take crazy steps to make it look like we’re ‘prepared’ for it, just to calm her down a little. I have a friend who’s a bit like that too, he gets really weird about animals around his partners and baby. Just these massive, irrational fears that can only seem to be soothed by everyone around them taking it way too seriously. It’s not easy, huh?”

“They didn’t use to be irrational.” Aced tried to explain, before hesitating, “...but they kind of are now.”

Invi gave Aced a small, slightly embarrassed but pleased smile at the compliment and obvious pride. Though, she wanted to make sure to assure, “I didn’t just look that all up because of Mr. Xigbar. It just came up at school.” Or, more that the subject of how certain sects of Atua historically became cults, and Ira had been intrigued by the psychology of cults and while helping him find resources, Invi had learned a lot from some of their local priestesses who had been more than happy to provide cult identification resources.

Their family hadn’t been overly religious, really only knowing what to say for appearances so that the elites her parents worked for could keep their appearances as good Atuan folk, but it had been something of a relief to Invi, that at least their local religious leaders had taken their duties of protection and guidance seriously. 

…arming their people with knowledge, rather than…

Invi sighed, taking her handkerchief and starting to gently pat around her eyes. “It’s hard to believe that completely, sometimes. For the most part, they are irrational habits…but every time something bad or startling happens, even if it’s not the kind of danger that brings anything more than a small scare, it’s hard not to feel like…of course. You should’ve been on your guard, you know better, and now something’s happened.”

Giving Aced a small soft look, she continued, “There are things like that we can do to reassure him, but I don’t think anything will be enough for a long time for him to actually relax amid those reassurances. Not when things keep happening.” And hearing about what just happened would become another bit of evidence for that. 

(...it wasn’t just about Xigbar’s reaction, though.)

A shudder went through Invi’s body as she suddenly recalled the sensation of being scooped into the air like it was nothing.

It was Hao, who noticed the shudder. 

Hao didn’t dig into the others emotions as much as many of them assumed he did. That was not how he had been taught to read people, growing up. Oh, sure, it was easier to read a person by literally reading their emotions, interpreting how they felt about this or about that by picking their anxieties out of their minds and following it to a memory. Easy, efficient, entirely within most any empaths capability, if they knew how.

But his father hadn’t taught him to read people that way… because it wasn’t as ‘fun’. 

Xigbar was far from the only parental figure in Hao’s life who’s goals and views of the world had been misshapen to the point of genuine, actual insanity. Hao’s father had had the cloak of a title and an esteemed position and being in a place of power that had made it difficult for others to so much as notice when Tengan was being wildly irrational or acting with a bizarre logic that only made sense to himself and the few, few people in the world he had bothered to explain himself to. 

And, yes, Aced was right. Xibgar was a ‘kinder’ example of that insanity. But Hao didn’t respect it. He had been boxed in by that insanity. His father figure in the factory insane, his father figure in his dreams insane. It was astounding Hao had come out as reasonable as he had.

But dealing with such wild and irrational personalities his whole life had made Hao good at reading body language and following thought processes through context, partly by design, partly out of necessity. And Hao saw the shudder and said, “It’d be nice if we actually were safe. Certainly feels like a lie, at the moment. They grabbed Invi. They attacked Lauriam. Maybe it’s naive to consider Dicea safe, just because we keep being told it is over and over. It sure doesn’t seem to be true.”

“Lauriam…oh!” Amber’s eyes widened in sudden realization, “I know you lot.”

“You do?” Aced frowned.

“Sure. You’re living with my bestie. The latest refugees up at the castle, right?” Amber asked, “...okay, your group has had some crazy bad luck, I’ll admit. But it’s really not that dangerous here, usually. Those guys were just being stupid, they wouldn’t have hurt you.”

“That doesn’t feel that reassuring, considering.” Aced admitted, reaching over to place a hand on Invi’s shoulder. 

For a moment, Invi glanced up, giving Amber a more wary look. All the kindness she’d shown to that point could be changed upon knowing who they were--that had been one of the biggest dangers about staying in Luminary. 

…however. Invi was fairly confident that they hadn’t made any enemies within the castle, so whoever was Amber’s ‘bestie’ likely wouldn’t have said anything that would turn her opinion against them. And being called ‘refugees’ over anything else was the kind of title that felt…safer to be known by. 

“It’s better than the alternative,” Invi said softly, though she leaned into Aced’s hand. “...Lauriam said something to Ira, a bit ago, that I think is the most important point. It’s not entirely safe here, but it’s safer than home. Bad luck, if it’s perpetual, isn’t reassuring, and make any place more dangerous…but I think the sticking point, and what prompted Miss Linnea to bring up the move to us, was that the peak of danger we’d face because of that luck is still less dangerous here than it would be at home.”

It still didn’t help in the moment. When Invi still felt shaken and scared. But…she had just been lifted for a second by a drunk guy. Not hurt, or kidnapped, or exposed, and after this she could go rest in a room that was safe and eat food that wasn’t rationed…

And she was allowed to cry without it getting in the way of anything. 

All that was a lot safer than what their lives had been.

Aced smiled. It was uneasy, but sincere, as he nodded with Invi’s point– “Gah!”

Amber raised an eyebrow as there was a ‘thump’ sound in the fabric behind them, a small, for lack of a better word, ‘dent’ put into the wall as otherwise the fabric held and something small slide down the side of the tent wall. 

“Got it!” shouted a young voice from just beyond the fabric.

“Cali! Be more careful, you could have knocked that tent in! Sorry folks! Come on, Cali, you need to be more careful–”

“But look, I caught it!”

“Which is cool! But bothering the people inside is not cool…” 

Amber snickered as she heard Kaito’s voice trail off, the two leaving the tent-side. Sounded like someone had their hands full with kids. LOL. Sucks to be the parent. 

“I do hear it’s safer here than it is in Luminary. Sometimes I have a hard time imagining that,” Amber admitted, smiling at the three, “Everyone I’ve ever met from Luminary has been some variety of sweetheart. You all seem awesome too. It’s hard to imagine you all came from somewhere where people are, like… I dunno. ‘Meaner’, if that’s a way to put it.”

Hao smiled back at Amber, “I guess it’s like anything. It’s about context. Maybe we seem nicer because we’re in a nicer place.”

And not torturing people in a factory.

Aced looked back to Invi, giving her a worried, thoughtful look. “How are you feeling, Invi?”

Invi jumped a bit at the thump, and even identifying the voices wasn’t the greatest comfort. Despite learning more and more about Kaito’s entirely different reputation in Dicea, the one he’d had in Luminary was a long shadow to walk out of. Though, Xigbar had told them not to worry so much about it, and it was hard to entirely disregard one of the most solid parts of Kaito’s reputation, being that he was kind to children. And she was inclined to accept Gula’s offhand assertion that the prince was just ‘kinda weird’ and wasn’t a threat to them. 

So…it was fine. 

(She did notice the pink-haired woman this time, who had perked up at those voices and, with a grin, headed out of the tent.)

Taking a breath, Invi gave Aced a tired smile. “Better, truthfully. Do I still look like I’ve been crying like a baby?”

“Your cheeks are a little puffy,” Aced admitted, smiling more brightly at her, “But otherwise you look fine. I don’t think he’ll notice.”

Assuming he doesn’t already know, Hao thought to himself.

“But, we can stay here a little longer. Hao can get back fine by himself,” Aced said, looking to Hao, who shrugged.

“Sure, of course. But I don’t mind zen water room either. So long as we’re not spending all day here,” Hao said, glancing over at Amber, “...that said, you know you don’t have to–”

“And I won’t,” Amber agreed, giving Hao a wink,”Don’t worry, my part is done, if you guys are good then I gotta go find my friends soon. Just wanted to make sure you all were good before I skedaddled.”

Invi closed her eyes in a small, defeated sigh before pressing her handkerchief, which she’d been cooling around her water bottle, to her cheeks to help reduce the swelling. “Maybe I can fake a minor allergic reaction…”

Though, as Aced tried to assure her, much more focused and sharp golden eyes opened and gave Hao an untrusting look. “I’ll admit a friendly festival is a wildly different circumstance, but I’m not about to trade one volcanic eruption for another, sending you off into the city alone.” Yes, Hao hadn’t been dealing with the crowds with his usual mischievous disregard, but that was almost worse.

That said, though, her stern countenance softened as she gave Amber another small bow. “Thank you again, Amber. As much as our bad luck seems to have followed us…” lifting her head, she gave the other woman a small, but genuine smile, “it means the world for someone to help. I hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

“No worries sweet-thing~ Hey, if you guys see me out there, say hi! I’m part of the swimsuit contest later. Going for the gold!” Amber crowed, before giggling when there were a few ‘shhs’ around her, “Whoops, my bad. Okay, byyyyyyyyye~”

S-s…sweet-thing?

Invi felt her cheeks start to heat up despite the cool cloth pressed to them, and she pressed all the more dedicatedly to hide them. 

…maybe she could distract from their very, very long ‘bathroom break’ by suggesting they watch the swimsuit contest. That’d likely distract Xigbar, anyway.

-

Ienzo hadn’t explained much. They were all pretty intrigued to hear about the Dicean holiday going on, more than the excited exclamations through the day, but apparently there were still certain festivities going on at night so while darkness fell over NGP, the party waged on in Usott. 

That was all fine. It gave them a pretty decent chunk of time. 

Simply guiding Demyx by the hand, he led his boyfriend to the roof where a blanket had been laid out under the burgeoning stars, nothing like the desert, but still visible through the city lights and crest of the castle walls in their peripheries. A proper trip out onto vaunted bluffs might be more romantic, but Ienzo still thought there was something charming in the rooftop…and it was something he’d been able to set up quickly upon noting Demyx’s souring mood.

Plopping himself down on the blanket, Ienzo patted the space next to him invitingly.

Demyx might have been feeling a little sour earlier, but it was hard to not grin at his boyfriend being sweet, Demyx taking the offered seat before laying back, stretching out like a cat with a little “mmph” sound as he arched his back until he felt the tension there release, before laying out with a sigh. Placing his arms behind his head, he looked up at the night sky. 

He didn’t know much about stars beyond that they were pretty and twinkled sometimes, but that didn’t make him appreciate the view any less, scooting slightly to be closer to Ienzo as he said, “This is pretty. Man, the clouds look cool tonight, don’t they!? I love the way the starlights silhouetting them, sort of makes them look alive…oh! That one kind of looks like a turtle!” Demyx said excitedly, freeing one of his arms to point at the one he meant.

Ienzo smiled fondly down at Demyx for a moment before scootching himself down and laying back as well, tilting his head against Demyx’s to see his point of view better. “Ah, I see what you mean…definitely a turtle,” he decided. “Clouds are so often likened to cotton candy, but looking at these, I’m not sure why, but I feel like they’d have a…darker, maybe more savory flavor? And would disintegrate more than turning into a sugar slush in your mouth.”

He glanced over with a smirk. “Think I’m onto anything there?”

“Purple flavored clouds!” Demyx agreed, sounding unreasonably excited by the prospect… before laughing as he turned onto his side, resting his arm on Ienzo’s stomach as he grinned at him from where his head was tucked into his own folded arm, “But not grape flavored. Purple-flavored. Don’t ask me that that is yet, but it’s definitely something. Feels right.”

Demyx paused, smiling lightly as he looked Ienzo’s face over, making no secret that he was inspecting all the little features of his face. Looking at his eyes, his lips, his nose… before he grinned, eyes sparkling. “You look cute today. Cuter than usual. Night colors suit you.”

Without hesitation Ienzo put his hand over the one Demyx extended, lightly playing with the tips of his boyfriend’s fingers as he hummed, matter of fact, “We’ll figure it out. It hasn’t been at the top of the to-do list, but I haven’t given up searching for Axel’s ‘blue’. It’d only be natural to include finding ‘purple’ to that study.”

Ienzo raised his eyebrows a little at Demyx’s observation of him before letting out a little huff of a laugh, the bounce of his chest honestly more of a tell than the sound. “Perhaps because I stubbornly exist in them. Though considering how cute you look every day, particularly in the day, my very telling Sunshine, I’d be pressed to put you into any sort of ranking.”

Tilting his head, Ienzo grazed a light kiss to Demyx’s cheek. “...we don’t have to, if you’d rather just enjoy the night. But I’m always here if you want to talk. You know?”

Demyx made a small, keen happy sound at the kiss, relaxing his hand into Ienzo’s fussing fingers. He liked when his boyfriend played with his hands. It made him feel observed in all of his senses. Seen, heard, felt.

…observed?

“...eh?” Demyx asked, giving Ienzo a genuinely confused look, “Do I have something I want to talk about? Sorry Button, not sure what you’re aiming for?”

Ienzo blinked back at Demyx, before giving a small shrug. “You’ve seemed a little down lately. You tend not to let negativity fester in your mind for long, but if there was something you wanted to talk about, in regard to that or just to put your thoughts out somewhere in the world, I always want to listen to what you have to say. I tend to feel better after I talk to you, in turn, though I enjoy our conversations more or less regardless of the emotional state I’m in during them.”

“Oooooh, you’re talking about the funk I was in earlier. Ugh!” Demyx ugh’d, pouting as he puffed out his cheeks and stuck out his tongue, “I am over it, but I got annoyed because when we were all talking about the festival, Lauriam gave me this nervous, kicked puppy look. Guy hasn’t had a normal conversation with me since all that stupid Marluxia stuff. And of course Marluxia hasn’t said bunk about anything yet, but shocker there, wasn’t exactly expecting more.” Demyx huffed again, “The Garden Duo’s just annoying me lately, that’s all.”

“Mm,” Ienzo hummed knowingly, “They can be annoying. Which just makes it even moreso because they both flip their lids over the possibility of being annoying. It’s a frustrating recursion.”

“Though,” he gave Demyx a curious look, “has Marluxia given you one of his Marluxia-apologies yet?”

Ienzo wouldn’t entirely discount the possibility in some small, overlooked memory, but to his best in the moment recollection, he couldn’t remember a single time his older brother had ever said the words ‘I’m sorry’ to himself or a Zexion. Marluxia seemed to have a vendetta against the exact words, actually.

…but that didn’t mean that he’d never been regretful or apologetic. He just spoke Marlux-ish instead. When out of the blue after an incident he’d suddenly decide to spend the day with you and demanded so much of the world that all natural laws would bend to the Will of Pink, and the day would be…actually pretty fun. And filled with things that made you feel good about yourself. Or that you’d stumble upon some sort of gift with no indication of the sender, but was obviously greatly considerate in being something that you’d like. 

That was its own sort of annoyance, having to accommodate an esoteric separate language and logic of the world. But it was something Ienzo was familiar with enough to still appreciate all the things his annoying brother did to say he cared, since the words seemed to be something unbearably difficult for him.

“No. And I don’t care if he does. That’s what I couldn’t convince Lauriam of when he came to give me Marluxia’s apology on his behalf. I don’t care.” Demyx frowned, rolling over and laying on his back, staring at the sky again, “Look, I know I’m kinda easy to fluster and sort of goofy and have that whole ‘stoner college kid’ thing going on, even though I only ever took drugs once and I got so scared that I’d never be normal again that I cried and my roommates never let me try any ever again… I had a point, hold on, I lost my train of thought. Man, that was a bad day. Drugs are scary.”

Demyx pouted, thinking about the scary drug day… before he gasped, remembering what he was talking about, “Right! My point is that it’s not like I’m actually stupid. I can recognize a pattern and know that it’s not going to change. I’ve been doing this stupid song and dance with Marluxia for years, and he’s never going to change, and I’m never going to not be frustrated by it. He lashes out at someone, I call him out on it, then we both are upset until we just stop thinking about it, and suddenly it’s just not a thing anymore.”

“Maybe I reacted a little harder than I normally do, but I was just… I was offended! That he’d treat my friend like that! He can drag me around and be a dick to me all he wants, whatever, that’s nothing new. But my friend?! What if Sam had taken it really personally? What if I lost a friend because Marluxia couldn’t not be the center of his own damn world for five whole seconds! It’s not like any of us have a ton of friends outside of our group… ugh, I’m getting mad thinking about it again. My bad.” Demyx grumbled, glaring at the stars, “Ugh. I dunno. What would you have done?” 

In a small mumble, Ienzo amended, “They can be, but that’s not quite an accurate blanket statement,” before he shifted his head to look at Demyx as he listened. 

Though, when asked what he would’ve done, Ienzo said, “Probably hidden something with root rot in whatever flower patch has been his favorite lately, and given him nightmares for a week. My friends who visited us at the tavern didn’t really interact with you guys at all, but it was probably fortunate that Marluxia was so busy he wouldn’t have had a moment to even think about scoping them out. As you once noted, we’re particularly lucky Kokichi still decided to help us after meeting him and my dad first.”

Ienzo let that sit for a moment before looking back up to the stars again. “...but I’d be lying to you if I agreed I don’t think he can change. He already has a lot, and he’s never been one to give up a challenge. This particular one would be pretty drastic, but I don’t fully believe that it’s impossible.”

There was another pause, before Ienzo mumbled, “It would take the two of them not being so scared all the time, though, and that is an ask for the current time being.”

“Again, I’m not really asking him to. I’m not asking for anything. I’m just… aware that I’m going to be mad, or was mad, and that I’m not going to be mad soon,” Demyx sighed, closing his eyes, gripping Ienzo’s hand, “But all of that is going to be regardless of what Marluxia does, or doesn’t, do. I can’t wait for that guy to do something to make me feel better. So I’ll just feel better on my own. Which is fine, it doesn’t bother me.”

“I just get so damn sad for Lauriam,” Demyx admitted, looking tired when he opened his eyes next, “People treat me and Larxene like our relationship is tough, and yeah, it can be. Larxene has done some stuff I really don’t like, and I really feel like I’ve been nothing but nice to her. But, I dunnoooooo… it feels worse, what Marluxia does to Lauriam. Maybe cause Lauriam isn’t going to just brush it off. I can handle the stuff Larxene does, even the worst stuff, but Lauriam? Marluxia is killing him. Has been killing him for years. It really gets to me, watching him wilt and waste away with every mean thing Marluxia says or does. I feel like everyone else lets it go because there’s this feeling that, like, Lauriam would be like that either way? But I don’t know if I believe that. I think having someone treat you like shit every day for years does something to you.”

There was a part of Ienzo that thought that type of resignation was a kind of being bothered, but there was so little to say about it, and Demyx had already made clear he didn’t want to talk about that part. 

Marluxia’s behavior could be annoying and frustrating and it sucked. Yeah. 

…but when it came to how that applied to Lauriam?

Ienzo sighed and stroked his thumb down the side of Demyx’s hand. “...I won’t pretend to be an expert on the intricacies of Lauriam’s mind--that’s why we’ve urged him into seeking professional help. So…these are more personal opinions, existing in the same space as yours without purposeful contradiction.”

“All our relationships with our respective Nobodies is complicated…and not very healthy,” Ienzo frowned at the stars, “The negotiation upon their return was supposed to start to rectify some of that, but I don’t think I explained it well, and further, the relationships between people aren’t just a set of rules you can make. They aren’t decisions made once, or a set of metaphysical laws.”

“It takes constant consideration, communication, and reevaluation,” Zexion said dully, sitting up on Demyx’s other side as he leaned back on his palms to stargaze, before saying bluntly, “I think Lauriam would’ve actually killed himself years ago if not for Marluxia. And that’s true right alongside the withering you’ve observed.” 

“No he wouldn’t have,” Demyx said, sitting up and crossing his legs, looking to Zexion, “Hey Bitty-Button. Not having a bitty day today? …okay, maybe Lauriam would have. He’s a gloomy guy sometimes and does that whole shambling zombie thing occasionally and also occasionally transforms into different stuff… you know, Sam didn’t feel like I was being fair to them, when I got mad. He said Marluxia didn’t strike him as the kind of guy who’d lash out like that for no reason.”

“And when Lauriam came to me to apologize for Marluxia, he said something kind of similar. He said if someone had yanked at your arm, I wouldn’t be surprised if it upset you.” Demyx frowned, “So why am I surprised that being hugged upset Marluxia. And now I’m saying I’m upset with the way Marluxia treats Lauriam, and it’s ‘Lauriam would have killed himself without Marluxia’...”

“Is everyone worried I’m going to hurt Marluxia’s feelings, by being mad at him?” Demyx tried to guess, looking between his two boyfriends, “Or am I just genuinely in the wrong to be upset? Why is everyone coming to bat for Marluxia, except for Marluxia?”

“Nah,” Zexion said simply, nudging his shoulder into Demyx’s affectionately.

While the two of them were now up, Ienzo stayed lying down, though he did pout slightly. “He literally said your own observations and opinions were equally true. Many things can be true at once.”

Zexion shared in the pout with a grimace. “And I feel like ‘worried’ implies that something has yet to happen.”

“You’re not wrong to be upset,” Ienzo clarified with a small sigh, “I didn’t see the whole thing, but he got in Sam’s face, argued with you, and went off to sulk, right? You’re right, some of the shit he pulls can be annoying and aggravating and worth being upset about. Whatever he felt about the situation doesn’t change that, as much as it sounds like Lauriam wanted to clarify.”

“I don’t know Sam well enough to hypothesize his reasons,” Zexion said quietly, eyes tracing self-made constellations, “But just as we didn’t want to ignore your hurt and upset, it’s hard to ignore Marluxia’s too. And he’s made an ethos over never justifying himself, so it leaves a very tantalizing space to fill. Annoying, isn’t it.”

“Annoying is a word for it… you know what this feels like?” Demyx sighed, laying back down, resting his arms beneath his head, “It feels like maybe I’m just being overly harsh. Honestly, I should probably just apologize to Marluxia for taking all of that too seriously. Sam wasn’t even bothered by it, it’s weird to be, like, all up in arms in his defense, you know? I’ll talk about it to Marluxia later.”

Ienzo was quiet for a moment before he tapped his foot against Demyx’s. “Maybe, and I won’t say I don’t think talking is a good idea. But harsh or not, reflective of Sam’s level of offense or not…he treated your friend in a way you don’t appreciate, and you were upset. That’s a truth of what happened, and no amount of ‘should’s can change that. Understanding or forgiveness doesn’t justify or erase the harm that existed, it’s just a step past it.”

“You want us to do something fucked up in his world?” Zexion asked.

“Nah, Bitty, I’m not mad at him anymore,” Demyx said, lightly tapping his knuckles into Zexion’s back, “And honestly I wasn’t even really still mad at him today either. Just frustrated that Lauriam’s hurt by all of this. Kind of feels like the easiest way to deal with that is to just make amends with Marluxia. Bringing back the peace kind of feels more worthwhile than saying ‘I’m upset’ over and over again.”

“Okay…but I could enchant his folded paper stash into swarming him, or make all the fruit trees drop fruit that make really gross squelching sounds on the ground, just to mess with him,” Zexion offered.

Ienzo smirked a bit at Zexion’s suggestions before the smile softened. “If you decide so, but I’d advise against doing that at the cost of pushing aside your own upset. I will take you at your word if you say you’re over it,” his gaze slid over to cast Demyx a side-look, “so be truthful with yourself to not make us fools together.”

“Nah, not looking to prank anyone. Though, definitely keep those in your back pockets, some of them sound gnarly,” Demyx snickered, meeting Ienzo’s side glance with a small, mildly amused smile, “I was already truthful, button. I don’t want to keep upsetting people saying I’m annoyed when they’re not even the guy I’m annoyed with. It’s not worth it. I’ll talk to Marluxia about it. He can do his Marluxia stuff, it’ll be whatever, but at least it’s him. You know what I mean?”

“Done with the proxy war,” Ienzo nodded, “Onto full-frontal attack.”

Zexion watched the sky. He knew he was only seeing it from Ienzo and Demyx’s perspectives, but it really did look like he was seeing from his own vantage. Almost like he was really on the roof next to them, more than the technicality of that being true as a part of Ienzo. 

“...I wager we probably have around an hour before people start convening on the beach for story time,” he guessed. “Want to see how many constellations we can draw up in the time we have?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Demyx said, squinting up at the sky… before grinning, “Okay, but I see a cup. It’s like a perfect cup too, I bet that’s a real constellation even. It’s on the back of a turtle, which is admittedly a bit more abstract in shape. Lots of turtles in the sky today. Good day for turtles.”

-

Demyx usually started his visits to the island in his own world. He knew the others could sometimes start on the island itself, or even in each others worlds, but he didn’t really know how they did that. When he went ‘inward’, the only path was to his own world first. And then he could get to the rest from there.

Today, as he ‘woke up’ on stage, Larxene shouted from the stands, “Oi!”

“Oi!” Demyx shouted back, snickering a little. He had no idea when Larxene had picked up that habit from Luis, but he had picked it up from her as he shouted, “What!?”

“Mariam brought you stuff!”

“...who!?”

“Marluxia and Lauriam! That fusion thing they do now!”

“Oh yeah!” Demyx frowned, looking around, “What stuff!?”

“Come up here!”

“You come down here!”

“The stuff is up here and also no, fuck you!”

“I have to literally go back down to get to the tunnels to get to the island in a second! So do you! You bring the stuff down here!”

“Stop being a bitch, it’s leg day! Climb!”

“It won’t even work out my muscles!”

“Bitch!”

“Gah! Fiiiine! Fine! I’m coming up. Ugh, can’t get a single break today,” Demyx grumbled, doing the laborious journey of climbing the steps up the stadium to Larxene, who lounged in the seats waiting for him, “Where’s the stuff?”

“Heeere you go~” Larxene smirked, tossing Demyx a record, “New music, courtesy of Mariam and the festival. It’s all a little too ‘cheery’ for me, but you’ll probably get a kick out of it.”

“Oh! Oh, yay,” Demyx grinned, turning the record over, looking at it back to front, before letting the memory out a bit, taking a peek, “...oh! That’s an accordion.”

“Mhm. And, if you needed any proof that this is Marluxia doing his ‘apology through actions’ thing, a much grosser gift.” Larxene scrunched her nose, passing on a piece of paper to Demyx, “An address. To, get this… a book store.”

“Oh!” Demyx lit up, looking at the paper, “Ienzo and Zexion will love that! Aw, that’s nice, I’ve been wanting to repay the favor for a bit now. They’ve come up with the last, like… twenty date spots.”

“You’re such a princess.” Larxene huffed, lounging back and kicking her feet up as Demyx messed with the record some more, “So, that work? You and Marluxia square now?”

“Great, are you going to start scolding me next?” Demyx frowned, giving Larxene a tired look, “Look, I give already, okay? This wasn’t even a fight I wanted to have. I was mad, I was embarrassed, and now I’m some sort of bully who doesn’t ‘get’ Marluxia. I give, I’m done, I do not want to explain myself anymore. I’m glad he apologized, because I’m about to go and basically beg him to tell everyone we’re good so that everyone will stop being upset with me about it.”

“Really leaning into the being pathetic stuff, huh?” Larxene asked dryly, “Just have it out with Mars, he’s not a pussy. You can just talk to him about it.”

“Talk to him about what? What’s there to explain!?” Demyx asked, giving Larxene a bewildered look, “He shook me around in front of everyone we know! What do I have to explain? It’s not nuanced, it’s not a ‘well, if you consider the context’ thing! He embarrassed me! In front of one of the few friends I have! And was mean to that friend! Because, yeah, he was hugged, but Marluxia is way more physical with everyone around him than that literally all of the time, but the second he’s made uncomfortable, no, it’s the end of the damn world. And yet everyone keeps asking me why I’m upset, and telling me why I shouldn’t be upset, and acting like it’s bewildering I’m–”

“Blah blah blah, bitch bitch moan,” Larxene mocked him, puppeting her hand like he was talking through it, “If it bothered you so much, then be mad about it forever. Who cares? What are you trying to prove to anyone?”

“...yeah,” Demyx deflated a bit, sitting down in the seat next to her, “I think I was just starting to feel defensive. But yeah, I know. It really doesn’t matter.”

“There you go, sport. That’s the way to stop being a bitch about things,” Larxene said, knocking her fist lightly into Demyx’s shoulder, who spun the record lightly in his hands, “But I still think you could probably just tell Marluxia why you were mad and it’d be fine. He’s not pathetic. He’ll get over it.”

“Yeeaaah… yeah, alright,” Demyx sighed, standing up, shrinking the record down until it was pocket sized, and putting it into said pockets, “Come on, we’ve gotta go hear about this festival now.”

“I’ll only go if you carry me.”

“...what? Nooooooo!” 

“Hehehe~”

-

“--it was like braiding with flower strands, but the act of braiding was through dance, and apparently there’s a totally different musical act every year, so it’s different every time,” Mariam regaled his boyfriends in a slight aside to listening to his siblings explosively tell their parents all about the festival. “It was kind of mesmerizing, I’ll be honest. It feels possible to do with living plants, but you’d likely have to be way more gentle than swinging and twisting them around.”

“Sounds pretty trippy. Think we could do that to my hair?” Xaldin asked, brushing a few of his dreads to the front of his shoulder, idly starting to braid them together, “I could use some more color in my hair, try to compete with all the pink I’m standing next to every day.”

“You can do literally whatever you want with your hair, Xaldin, it doesn’t actually obey any law of physics,” Dilan reminded him, the three lounging at the beach wall as the group all hung out around the beach, “Just will your hair to be more colorful.”

“You sort of take the joy out of things sometimes, Dilan,” Xaldin said dryly, before batting his eyelashes at Mariam, “You’ll braid my hair with fun colors, won’t you?”

Mariam snorted before sitting up with pride. “Well I’m not sure where we’d get the widest variety of flowers to use--oh, wait, I do~” Snickering he gave Xaldin a wink. “You could be a walking rainbow if you wanted it, baby. And you’re only out of threat of waking up like that some random morning because of physical distance, Dil. Let me just convince Mom I have a new bonding idea for her and Ven real quick.”

Smiling pleased, he continued, “Diceans are pretty wild about fashion, though. Going for a super colorful style would just be another Tuesday over here.”

“Oh shit, he ‘baby’d me back,” Xaldin murmured, considering how he felt about it… before grinning at Dilan, “Kinda cute.”

“Less appalling than calling you ‘daddy’.” Dilan said, before reaching up to touch his own hair, “I don’t know if I’d mind it…”

“Is that why you’re dressed like a cozy peacock? Diceans getting to you?” Xaldin asked, wrapping his arms around Mariam’s waist and pulling him close, “Not that I’m against it. You look good enough to eat, baby. Just gotta unwrap you and–”

“Ew, gross,” Demyx said dryly, before grinning at Mariam, “Hey! Got your gift! Thanks guys, the music already sounds amazing!”

There was a conversation to be had about that, probably, but for the moment Mariam was far more pleased leaning into Xaldin’s arms and letting the shower of compliments rain down upon him. “Peacock,” Mariam rolled his eyes, “A bird could wish. You might call it the Diceans getting to me, but it’s more that there’s actually clothes that are fun here, and the only comments you get from bright colors or fun cuts are compliments on your style.”

Winking at Xaldin, he taunted, “There’s quite a lot I’d like to hear your thoughts on when you get here~”

Though, like everything else…later.

For a moment, Mariam stiffened in Xaldin’s arms as Demyx came up, a strange sort of expression wobbling over his face before it settled into a neutral smile. “Glad you like it--we heard so much just walking around the festival that I’ve never heard before, so I figured it’d be interesting to you, at least. There’s apparently a big music event going on next weekend too, so I’m hoping to snag at least a few songs to send over.”

“Oh, no kidding? Maybe I’ll explore those memories if anyone’s up to letting me walk around in them after, I’d love to see a big foreign concert,” Demyx grinned, “Hey, it doesn’t have to be now, I know we’re all talking festival stuff, but you mind having a conversation with me at some point, Marluxia?”

“You and Flower gonna square things out after the big fight?” Xaldin asked, lightly rubbing Mariam’s lower back.

Demyx rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t a ‘big’ fight, but sure, yeah.”

Again, a series of conflicting, unidentifiable expressions twisted through Mariam’s face. However, they didn’t last long before there was a flash of pink and Marluxia was dropping off the wall next to Demyx, stretching casually as Lauriam was left next to Xaldin, glancing between him and Demyx with a slightly wary, but hesitantly hopeful smile.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s not draw this out the whole night,” Marluxia sighed as he dropped his arms, “Time for a scenic walk.” And with a small wave to his boyfriends, Marluxia took the lead away from the group, figuring Demyx would follow.

Demyx did follow, giving the others a wave as well, before getting in step with Marluxia. Marluxia was slightly taller than Demyx himself–okay, a lot taller–but Demyx had a pretty good stride, years of dancing making it easy to swing his hips to keep up. 

Once they got down the beach a bit… “Mars, I am begging you, no matter what happens right now? Pleeeease tell everyone else we’re totally cool. I’ve been in borderline arguments with both Lauriam and now Ienzo and Zexion over this and I seriously have no idea how to make it stop.”

For a moment, pure surprise and shock was blatant across Marluxia’s face before he tempered it into a skeptically raised eyebrow. “Don’t know why the hells the Dork Squad would be arguing with you over it, but yeah, sure. If you tell La-La you’re not mad at him. Today was good, I’m hoping for more coming up.”

Sniffing lightly, Marluxia put his hands on his hips and looked around, though at nothing in particular. “...so what’d you wanna say?”

“I’m not mad at Lauriam. Is that why he’s acting like that, because he thinks I’m mad at him? Sheesh,” Demyx sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not mad at anyone. I’m not mad. I’m not mad at you, I’m not mad at Lauriam, I’m not mad at my guys. I’m really just trying to put this behind me, and I feel like the only way to do that is to talk to you about it. Or wait for the next person in our merry band to come in and talk to me for you,” Demyx said dryly.

Marluxia let out a small exasperated sigh--it was annoying enough when Lauriam felt like he needed to apologize to people on Marluxia’s behalf (that was some shitty Dilan-type-shit) but hearing that Ienzo and Zexion had jumped into it too? Dummies.--but instead of expressing all those thoughts, he turned back to Demyx and cocked his head slightly. Looking Demyx over with appraising acid. 

“...why aren’t you?” 

With a huff, he waved a hand. “I know we talked about the apparent facade of you holding things together and all that, but I know you can be mad about stuff for longer than five seconds. Why aren’t you?”

Demyx didn’t actually seem surprised by the question. He just laughed a touch sheepishly, before giving Marluxia a tired look. “Lauriam and Ienzo wore me down. After a certain point, defending being angry feels worse than just… actually being angry. Like, don’t get me wrong, I cared that all of that stuff happened! But man, I did not care this much. I’m worn down, I’m tired, I just want things to be alright between us. Which, honestly? I’m sure they are. Are you still mad at me?”

“Damn, can’t even let a guy be mad on his own terms,” Marluxia grumbled with a sigh before he gave Demyx a mildly incredulous look. “Dem-Dem, I stopped being mad at you the second I realized I only imagined the reason for it. I just was being a doofus and made you play the second lead--that’s an actual real reason to be pissed off. But if you’re burnt out? Then yeah, we’re fine.”

“Yeah, I kinda guessed that was the case. And I’m not mad anymore either. I was frustrated when it happened, I listened to a lot of emo music–oh, you should check out emo music, I’ve been listening to some stuff Sam’s been sharing with me? It’s great ‘being mad’ music,” Demyx said, smiling lightly, “But like… that anger was always going to fizzle out eventually. It’s not worth holding onto. And yeah, man, trying to explain why I was upset to everyone else was just making it worse.”

“Not your fault, I know you didn’t send them,” Demyx shrugged, looking ahead, “They just, you know, love us and stuff. They don’t like seeing us upset with each other. Or, me upset at you, anyway. I just realized halfway talking to Ienzo and Zexion that, like, if I didn’t do something? It wasn’t going to stop. So… yeah. If you’re not mad at me and I’m not mad at you? Can we just tell everyone we’re good now?”

“Also, don’t call yourself a doofus, you’re not a doofus. And I don’t want everyone to think I broke something in your brain, hearing you insult yourself.” Demyx chuckled, “It’s not like you.”

“Booo,” Marluxia stuck his tongue out and pulled down one of his eyelids, making a very Larxene gesture as he leaned forward towards Demyx, “Hold onto a grudge for years, you damn coward. Revel in the anger, have a massive meltdown that disrupts everyone’s day.”

Easing from the pose, he smirked. “Oh, you’re just realizing the utter busybodies we live with now? Sigh a little too loudly and the whole brigade comes in to hear every thought in your brain--you really should’ve expected this. And please,” Marluxia rolled his eyes, “Something broke in La-La’s and my brain ages ago, don’t flatter yourself thinking you might be the first. I know my worth, but I’m not delusional, I know that I pulled you into nonsense for literally no reason.”

And that had been a major reason he’d been so upset after storming off back to his world. Knowing that, and knowing Demyx had damn good reasons to be mad at him for it, and…just…not having a good explanation. There was no stance or decision Marluxia could proudly stand by; he’d just imagined something that had upset him. And that fucking sucked. 

Honestly he sort of wished Demyx had come confront him about it sooner, before all his anger had been blown out by the well-meaning dorks, but…well, he was more relieved just to hear Demyx wasn’t mad at him anymore. 

Grinning sharply at Demyx, Marluxia leered, “You really wanna show everyone we’re all chummy?”

Demyx tsked, “No way, the whole ‘emotional blowup’ thing is not fun. I don’t know how you put up with it, it just makes everyone around you mad at you. I’ve only been openly upset about something for literally a few days and I’m exhausted. Seriously, I’ll pass, emotional repression is way more rewarding.”

Demyx was mostly kidding. Yeah, he wasn’t a total ditz, he did play up his optimism a little bit… but not that much. And he liked when he was happier, not just because it made the others feel better, but also woah, did it make everyone treat him better. Demyx had a new understanding of what Marluxia and Lauriam were going through, just, all of the time. Demyx couldn’t do it. It was exhausting.

Though, he raised an eyebrow at Marluxia’s sharp leer. “....yeessss?? Unless it’s going to hurt. Is it gonna hurt? You have a ‘it's gonna hurt’ look to you.”

“Oo, what a big guy, taking the jar route. Well, I guess there’s no question to the kind of person you are,” Marluxia snickered, before his eyes gleamed more dangerously.

“Awwww, Dem-Dem,” he cooed, taking a few threatening steps forward, “You’re saying I would hawt my bestest fwiend~? So cwuel~!”

And with his voice that toxically twee tone, Marluxia darted forward the last bit of space between them to scoop Demyx up in a princess carry before sprinting back to the group, a flurry of flower petals in his wake.

“LARXY~~~!!!!! YOU’VE BEEN REPLACED~!!!!”

“EEP!” Demyx squealed, scrunching his body reflexivity as he stared bug-eyed up at Marluxia, arms clutched to his chest as he shouted, “You don’t get points for lifting me on the island! Your real body totally couldn’t lift my real body! A-And I could totally lift–ahhhh! Button, help!”

“HEY! DEMYX, GET OFF MY MAN!” Larxene shouted, lightning crackling off her hands as she ran after them.

“THIS IS NOT MY FAULT!! AH!! BUTTON!!!”

Ienzo watched Marluxia and Larxene sprint by.

{...I’m not running. This is your battle to fight.}

“BUTTON!!!”

-

It wasn’t a fair comparison in the slightest, but Lauriam was feeling far and beyond better than he had the last time he made the trip to Dr. Mariah’s office. And while sometimes he did just enjoy taking in the walk as it was, the grey morning was made brighter by chatting with Marluxia on the way. 

It felt a little childish, like playing dress up for approval to completely make an outfit out of some of the clothes he’d gotten during Hanami, but Lauriam had decided to wear one of his new shirts, a quite nice off-black button down with true black flower embroidery around the collar points, corner hem, and sleeve cuffs. Though, some of his confidence stalled once he got to the office only to find a, uh, child up on a ladder, fussing with a light fixture. 

Mike hardly paid him mind, until he registered that Lauriam had stopped. With a beleaguered sigh he steadied the new fixtures he was installing to call back into the office, “AVA!! ONE OF YOUR PATIENTS IS HERE!!”

(She’d not been very enthused with him calling them her head cases, at least to their faces.)

“...shouldn’t you be in school?” Lauriam asked, like a hypocrite.

“Day’s off, since we had the day off for Hanami yesterday,” Mike grunted, going back to his work. He knew she didn’t expect anything from him about it, but Ava lamenting having to find a new secretary that summer had…well… It wasn’t like Mike could just make a robot to be her secretary, not for a few more years, anyway. But if he couldn’t help her with that, then he’d fix up some other stuff in her office.

“Thank you, Mike!” Ava called, before stepping out of her office, Dr. Mariah smiling warmly at Lauriam, “Good to see you today. As you can see, we have some construction going on down here. It might be wise of us to go to the roof, since Mike here will likely be banging on the walls a bit.”

Mike snorted. “You aren’t letting me take down any walls, banging will be minimal. Give Miu and me a few weeks to make an automatic door that doesn’t squish you to a paste, then I’ll be drilling into your frames.”

Lauriam gave Mike a bewildered look. Like…like okay Dr. Mariah looked really young too, and they were on a first name basis, but looking at the kid more, Lauriam was positive he was one of the group of kids including the royal family’s son that ran around the castle together.

Marluxia, evidently, didn’t see how it was their business, though, as he gave Dr. Mariah a grin. “Sounds all good to me--La-La mentioned that your fish fixation has gone to new levels up there.”

“Good day, Marluxia. Yes, they are a bit of a passion of mine. Fish are challenging to keep, but their beauty makes the effort worth it,” Dr. Mariah said, nodding to the two and then to Mike, before leading the way to the stairs.

It was a beautiful but cool day out, and perhaps surprisingly, there had been a small redecoration with the roof furniture. The hanging chairs were of course still there, still color coded and around the koi pond, keeping it center stage for those who liked to sit there.

But in the corner of the roof, surrounded by plants to the point where they made almost a wall of greenery and flower separated from the rest of the roof, was a red-velvet lounging chair with intricate, but tasteful embroidery stitches into its fabric, next to a comfortable but elegant sitting chair. Dr. Mariah showed off idly the koi fish for a moment, before gesturing them to follow her to the corner plant area, taking a seat on the chair as she considered the umbrella she had there, before deciding to leave it folded for the day.

“First of all, it seems you took your assignment to heart. You look very nice today, Lauriam,” Dr. Mariah complimented, “Are these clothes you got at the festival?”

There was a quick glance behind glasses as Mike made a few recognizing connections of his own. Ah, so this was Sora, Kairi, and Riku’s weird brother, got it. 

Once on the roof, while Marluxia gave the fish pond a fascinated look, Lauriam paused as he took in the new sitting area, smiling a bit sheepishly as Dr. Mariah complimented him. “...I can’t help but feel this is a bit pointed.”

Sighing softly, he smiled a little more comfortably, straightening his shirt before he sat down on the lounging chair. “Thank you, though just the shirt is from the festival.”

With a proud smirk, Marluxia gestured to the rest of their body. “Rest is courtesy of yours truly from the shopping trip we actually did do.” He snorted. “I know you’ve seen us in pajamas and worse, but please know we haven’t just been wearing garbage all the time.”

Dr. Mariah smiled lightly. “It might seem that way, but in truth I use patients as sources of inspiration for my decorating in any space where I’m likely to have them. The current setup I have up here is very useful for group sessions. A sense of harmony and focus in the matching chairs and circular nature of where they’re put, not to mention the koi pond acting as a calming place one can look when starting to feel overwhelmed, without taking you out of the group. But having you up here last time showed the flaws of it for a single person. It’s too large and too isolating for one on one sessions. A smaller spot, more closed off and comfortable in the open air, is useful for you, yes, but also useful for any other patient I have in the future that for whatever reason cannot stay in the office. It’s good to have a second place to bring them.”

“I have patients who prefer the office. I have patients who prefer open-air. It’s good to have spaces for both of them,” Dr. Mariah said–though, outside of the study-phobic Kaito, Dr. Mariah would always prefer using her office space–, taking out her notebook and opening it up to take a look, “And I didn’t think you were, Marluxia. But it’s important for Lauriam to practice shopping and picking clothes for himself. His beliefs that he’s unworthy of spending that sort of money on will require patience and time to unravel, yes, but there’s a certain level of everyday practice that will be needed before it’s something that doesn’t truly hold him back anymore. It’s not enough to understand or recognize destructive habits: you have to actively practice good ones.”

“Still, the fact that you bought yourself a shirt at the festival is progress, and I’m very pleased with that. It’s a good shirt as well,” Dr. Mariah said, “Now, forgive my caution, but I have to ask you for something. Please describe the plants around us. The type they are and the condition they’re in.”

It had enough utility that it hadn’t immediately sent alarm bells ringing in Lauriam’s head about his therapist setting up an entire setting just for him, but that she admitted to taking inspiration did help. While he knew Diceans’ proclivity for plants--exploring an entire city-wide festival celebrating them had really driven that home, if the myriad gardens all around hadn’t--the pointed emphasis on them, as well as the decorative embroidery on the chair when he hadn’t see that sort of style on anything but some of Dr. Mariah’s clothes were, well, very him-coded. Her trying to play that sort of thing off would’ve been pretty discomforting. 

“Well, it’s quite beautiful, how you’ve set it up,” Lauriam complimented, before giving her a mildly surprised look at the request. But he accommodatingly gave the plants a more appraising look. “You have some sansevieria, or, uh, I think a lot of places call them ‘snake plants’, so you know what I’m talking about, which are pretty functional creating a more private space. They’re really hard to kill, actually, and incredibly easy to regrow from cuttings, but these look like they’ve been potted for a while and are doing well. And…it looks like you’ve mixed pink princess and yellow flame philodendrons among each other? I’ve never thought about doing that, but they look really nice like that, and their leaves are pretty broad. Not so much today, I guess, but it seems like they’ll be enjoying the sun when it comes out. The knock out roses have a lot of blooms, oh, um, you might want to move the coneflowers, or have sessions somewhere else for anyone with issues with bees, since they’re really attractive pollinators, and of course jasmine is always a nice choice because of their scent, though I’m impressed with how well they’re growing on the trellis…”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “That descriptive enough?”

“I’ll put the coneflowers on the other side of the roof then,” Dr. Mariah said, “But otherwise that seems accurate. It can be dangerous to tell someone they’re hallucinating while it’s happening, but in our last session, you were hallucinating fairly severely. Do you remember much of our last session? You were unwell.”

Lauriam gave Dr. Mariah a briefly alarmed look before wincing, placing a hand on his arm. Right over where, under his sleeve, deep scrapes into his arm were still healing. “I…remember enough, I think. I wasn’t having a great day and kind of freaked out on you. Sorry, about that. By the way. I really should’ve sent a message that I was sick or something.”

“Perhaps, but considering you live alone, it was likely better you sought some sort of help, and a planned appointment was a good way to do so. Even if that likely hadn’t been the reason you came that day,” Dr. Mariah said, closing her notebook and placing it on her lap. “But, let me give you a summary of what occurred. When you arrived, you were wearing what looked like a stained and old set of pajamas, drunk through your mental connection to your family, and hallucinating dead or dying plants everywhere that you were very concerned for.”

“We discussed your discomfort of living decorations, specifically my fish,” Dr. Mariah said, gesturing past the green walling that was now blocking off view of the koi pond, “We discussed your disagreement with Demyx, your concerns with how to handle your seizures, and you asked for Marluxia to join us due to wishing to discuss things that concern him, but not without him. We ended the session fairly early and I walked you home. Does any of that sound surprising?”

The wince didn’t leave Lauriam’s expression, his posture growing smaller as Dr. Mariah listed off everything that had happened his last appointment. And while he pretty much did remember all that--though, uh, hearing that he’d hallucinated dead plants was pretty freaky--and shook his head to answer so, he softly mumbled around his words for a moment. 

“They’re, um…they’re not pajamas.”

Immediately green eyes lidded with a sort of dulled anger, the sheepish shame becoming something set and grim. 

“They were our factory clothes,” Marluxia bluntly clarified before huffing softly. “Axel’s right, you know, we should just get rid of them. Even holding onto rag cloth isn’t worth it for them.” And apparently after telling Lauriam that, he waved a hand lightly at Dr. Mariah. “Added to you, I guess, he did get help--Axel showed up sometime while he was gone, sent by the Crisis Crew.”

Huffing more, Lauriam blushed lightly as he muttered, “I’m really not that much of a lightweight.”

“There’s not much of a judgment to be made about your ability to handle alcohol, when it’s a mental feedback of someone else’s… I believe you said desire? For alcohol?” Dr. Mariah frowned, “...that level of influence you all have on each other is a bit alarming. But unfortunately, I’m not certain I’m qualified to help or advise on it. I can only tell you that from an outsider perspective, if someone’s desire for something is enough to influence everyone involved with the feeling that they are experiencing that thing? That’s an alarming dynamic. Not just for the effect it has on the group, but for each of you individually as people trying not to cause that effect on the group. I know you said this individual was in rehab. Has it often happened, that his desire for alcohol has caused the group to get drunk?”

“Wooow, what a grand acknowledgement, that what we’ve got going on is fucked up,” Marluxia drawled, “At least you’re saying it this time.”

“Marluxia…” Lauriam sighed, before giving Dr. Mariah a small shrug. “I wouldn’t say often? It’s…” He hesitated. “I don’t…really like talking about Luis like this. Discussing his problems when he’s not here.”

{You’ve already rumpled those sheets, though, darling.}

Lauriam frowned. “...it’s not really just a desire to be drunk. We’d all have been drunk for a few decades if that were as simple as how it worked. Uncle Luis is actually really good at keeping things, I would say separate, but I think controlled is more true. He’s had a construct that can let you drink as if it were real as long as I’ve known him, but usually it’s limited to his own world unless he specifically shares it in your world, and he doesn’t just do that on a whim, it’s always asked. But…”

…it was hard to find a way to explain that Luis was struggling without saying that and exposing his uncle’s weakness in such a cruel way. 

Marluxia sighed, gesturing to Dr. Mariah. “La-La’s said he’s talked to you about this before: unless you’re so weak you can’t do anything, or your control game is on another level, psychics do haywire shit when they’re upset. That’s true for people all nestled just with their own mind, so ten times it for a group that shares theirs.”

“I see…” Dr. Mariah frowned, placing the tips of her fingers lightly on her chin. She wasn’t often genuinely perplexed, but her brow furrowed ever so slightly, “So it’s largely on the part of the individual, how much they might end up affecting the rest of you. Again, not ideal… but not something I can advise on. It’s beyond my qualifications.”

“That said, I am concerned about how it affects you both. I know you struggle with emotional episodes and extreme delusions,” Dr. Mariah said, tapping at the notebook, “Do these moments end up affecting the rest of your group, the way Luis’ episode affected you?”

“Giant flower, fire outbreaks,” Lauriam almost defeatedly listed off things they had previously discussed, “I know sometimes we’ve affected the plants on the island, but no one’s mentioned if that’s messed with any of their moods or anything.”

“Obviously affecting in the, like, ‘oh, I’m extremely aware someone I care about is having a shit time’ way,” Marluxia added with an eyeroll, “And that’s something true for all of us. You get used to ignoring it, or filtering out for the stuff you probably should pay attention to. Like, I don’t think any amount of ‘breath exercises’ could slow our heart rate down at all if ‘Enzy’s anxiety was actually enough to do anything besides notice.”

Once again, it hit Dr. Mariah that she was very much out of her depth at the moment.

Which was frustrating. She had been doing this for two lifetimes now, and had been alive long enough to feel like she had a good grasp of any particular emotional problem. And if this was a different hive-mind situation, she’d have a better idea of how to help. Flora had been dealing with sharing their minds to various extents their whole lives, and the ones Dr. Mariah saw tended to have a lot to say and need to grow from it.

But that was the thing… hive minders who were still connected didn’t go to people like Dr. Mariah. They didn’t go to therapy. Partly because of the very nature that made up the major hivemind that Dr. Mariah had ever known, which were a self-involved, self-important species whose queen would not let them loudly or openly even think to themselves that anything could be wrong, right up until they made runs for it or destroyed themselves in protest, but also, Dr. Mariah suspected, because, well… would therapy even work on a mass-mind sharing situation like that? So much of therapy was giving a person tools to control their own behavior. If so much of their mind was at another person’s whims and influence…

Maybe group therapy would help? But Dr. Mariah couldn’t ethically suggest it. Lauriam’s issues and desire to get help did not, and should not, require the participation of twelve-plus other people. Couple therapy, relationship therapy, only worked because everyone going had wanted to be involved and could benefit from the help, because it was helping the relationship.

Lauriam was an individual going through individual problems, and the others’ participation couldn’t be the beginning and end of his ability to work through those issues. It wasn’t fair on the others in the group, and in most cases, it wasn’t helpful for her patients in the long run.

But…it was starting to feel like that wasn’t true. Which put Dr. Mariah in an ethically tricky situation for a therapist. Did she require that Lauriam could only be helped so long as an entire group of people–including children, including his lovers, including parental figures and friends–also agreed to subject themselves to therapy? Throw away any possibility of individual growth and accountability, privacy? Did Lauriam need to talk about being a living table for the sexual pleasure of his captors while his 16-year-old pseudo siblings sat across from him and his mother sat with his long estranged 13-year-old brother?

“It’s a tricky situation, your lifestyle,” Dr. Mariah said, placing her hands on her lap, “As a group, have you found any coping techniques that work when dealing with the others’ emotions?”

Marluxia gave Dr. Mariah a ‘no shit’ sort of look, but there was an odd quality to their voice, almost Mariam-esque, as they answered, “Namine.”

Their body blinked a few times before rolling their shoulders and sitting up, Lauriam giving Dr. Mariah a small nod. “She’s the best of our group at emotion domes, I mean.”

The side of Marluxia’s mouth slanted down. “Especially when it was ‘just’ the Nobodies awake, if we all started talking over each other, or got worried about what to do about things, she’d numb and hold us all still for a while, but ever since she figured it out she tries to calm anyone who’s getting heated before it turns into an echo chamber.”

Crossing his legs, Marluxia leaned onto the side of the lounge. “Hey, when he first started, you told La-La that only taking someone on as a psychiatrist would give him meds, but you wanted to hold off for other medical stuff. What’s the timeline looking like for all that now?”

Namine was 16 and should not be the one making decisions on when the whole of her family needed cool-downs, but Dr. Mariah felt like it was a bit useless to bring that up. It was absolutely an issue, and honestly a big one, but as was becoming standard for her sessions with Lauriam, Dr. Mariah was a little lost on which issues needed immediate attention, because they were all big issues, and they were seemingly endless. Put the ‘my younger sibling is responsible for tranqing me and everyone I know’ just… on the list.

“I’m still considering who I might recommend you for, psychiatrist-wise, though medication after the last session does seem pressingly necessary,” Dr. Mariah said, “May I ask why you’re asking, Marluxia?”

“Keeping up to date,” he said, keen eyes on the therapist, even if everything else about him was casual, “It’s been a while, we’ve brought the whole gang through medical check-ups, it’s good to know what to expect. And like you said, last session was noteworthy.” Marluxia’s frown tensed slightly. “If his zombie days have even more hallucinations going on, and he’s ripping pieces of himself apart and that’s the ‘good’ outcome? That needs to be addressed more than, ‘oh~ we’ll get to it later~”

Lauriam’s eyes lowered, lips parting slightly before he murmured, “That’s the first time that’s happened…”

“It is not.” Marluxia growled. “Sure, sure we can blame it on the island being booze soaked, but you know another factor why you almost passed out in the shower, Lauriam? It’s because you forget you’re something that needs to eat! You might not cut yourself to ribbons but don’t say you’ve never hurt yourself on a bad day.”

“I understand your desire to speed up the process, Marluxia, but there’s a lot to consider before a therapist recommends psychiatric medicine. One of the things I need to consider, for instance, is how it might affect you as the other person living in Lauriam’s body,” Dr. Mariah said, “And more, I’ve been wanting to determine what symptoms I need to recommend a psychiatrist look into. Are your hallucinations side effects of your physical seizures? Are they emotional problems manifesting in specific beliefs? Are they hormones or signs of a tumor? That last part matters, because any symptom we suppress to help you could have been a warning sign for something else entirely. I know it’s tempting to take the symptom away immediately and be done with it, but I need to have at least an idea of what it could be, before I suggest how we handle it.”

“For instance,” Dr. Mariah said, “Lauriam’s hallucinations, his delusions, his impulse to self-harm or lack of appetite… Do you experience these things, Marluxia?”

Marluxia let out a deep sigh. “Look, I’m not asking you to hurry the fuck up or just shove happy pills at him now--I just want to know what the plan looks like for the immediate future, ‘cause I know La-La won’t ask. That’s part of why I’m here--keeping all this shit under wraps might be nice for privacy, but it doesn’t help when he’s talking himself into confused circles trying to explain things later.”

He’d been about to scoff and declare, uh, no, those were some delightful things exclusive to his dear other half~ 

…but.

As Marluxia’s gaze shifted away, Lauriam rubbed the back of his neck lightly. “...does…lack of appetite still count if you force yourself to eat anyway?”

“I am not delusional,” Marluxia grumbled, tense as he recalled a few things Demyx had said the night before.

“These symptoms affecting one of you but not the other suggests some of them are emotional issues,” Dr. Mariah said, “But I would like to talk to you more, Marluxia, before I determine that.”

Dr. Mariah would have preferred to just ask Lauriam, if Marluxia experienced delusions. But Lauriam wasn’t going to say and now Marluxia was here, so she’d have to make due. 

“For instance, with Lauriam’s seizures–how do they affect you? Have you ever been in control of the body when you’re experiencing the seizure?”

Marluxia didn’t say a word, just glaring off to the side. 

And the shift in their expression from that, to clearly hesitating nerves was obvious. 

“The, uh,” Lauriam softly cleared his throat, “the other day when I’d said I had a seizure the day before… That…wasn’t mine. Marluxia had one. And I’m not sure if it was a seizure, but he’s been upset enough to…give us injuries hitting stuff. And I had to stop him before it got worse.”

“‘S so fucking stupid,” Marluxia whispered angrily. 

“I see. Seizures don’t necessarily need to be happening in the moment, for you to experience the effect of them. Seizure-created psychosis, where your mind is damaged by the seizure and can express psychotic-like symptoms as an aftereffect, can last for up to a few hours, to as long as three months before the mind recovers enough to not experience the symptoms anymore.” Dr. Mariah said, “So even if Marluxia himself didn’t experience the seizure in the moment, his anger response could still be an aftereffect of dealing with the brain damage that was caused. This type of medication is what I’m leaning towards recommending your psychiatrist look into.”

“But I’m still determining that this is strictly seizure based psychosis, and not behavioral or hormonal,” Dr. Mariah explained, “Again, medicating you for one could suppress signs of the other. Medicating seizure psychosis will only exacerbate behavioral psychosis, and hormonal psychosis requires an entirely different approach.”

“The reason I bring that up, is to explain what I’m looking for, as I ask… what upset you in that moment, Marluxia?” Dr. Mariah asked, “And why did hitting things feel like the solution in the moment?”

Three months, huh? It’d been a little over two since Lauriam’s coma, which as much as he had issues declaring that had been from a seizure, every healer he’s talked to had treated the result functionally the same. And it really wasn’t like those two-ish months had exactly been restful.

Without fully noticing it, Marluxia rested a hand over his heart, before snapping, “It’s better than going out to murder someone, isn’t it?”

Again, Lauriam hesitated, before lightly rubbing their chest in comfort. “Sorry if this sounds like I’m changing the subject, but… Dr. Mariah, do you know what dying feels like? I understand that might be personal, so you don’t have to get into it.”

“Once. But it was a long time ago. For a long time, I would have told you it’s something you never forget, but…” Dr. Mariah shrugged lightly, “Time erases everything. So whatever feelings you’re attempting to relate? Not necessarily, no.”

Lauriam nodded lightly before giving her a soft smile. “Even if it’s not as present for you, I am sorry you experienced it.”

His smile faded as he took a breath. “When you asked what sorts of things can affect all of us through the island… Death is one of them. And it affects us pretty severely. Um…” Lauriam took a deeper, more steadying breath. “He didn’t die, but sort of recently, and the most recent thing we were talking about, one of us had an…experience, and for the rest of us, it felt like he was dying. You could say that Marluxia and I were pretty upset about it.”

Marluxia’s lips twisted in a hateful scowl. “Went on a walk, tried to blow off steam. Stumbled into the fucking alley our sister was almost raped in.”

While from their expression it seemed like Marluxia was still in control, a wince went through their body, a small, choked upset sound squeaking in their throat.

“You went back to the place you were raised recently?” Dr. Mariah asked, noting the sound, “Was this on your way to Dicea? I imagine even outside of experiencing a group death, that would have been a stressful trip.”

Marluxia nodded tensely before Lauriam closed their eyes and took a few deep breaths. 

“We stopped in Romeliad, on the Luminary side of the border before the mountains, to stock supplies,” he said a little too evenly. “That’s our hometown. We hadn’t even planned on going inside the town properly, just watching our stuff while the others went in, but Axel had a run in with our mom and the others with her that got stressful, so we went after him to help…”

Lauriam opened his eyes just a little, looking off at the ground. “Ran right to our childhood home. Probably even stepped right over where Strel was murdered…”

Marluxia rocked his knuckles against Lauriam’s wrist comfortingly. 

“It sucked while we were there,” Marluxia grumbled, “But sometimes lately it’s been hard not to think about when we’re, like, I dunno, just doing dishes or something.”

“Those can be tough feelings to process even normally, but I imagine having a recent traumatic experience in the same spot recently has brought those feelings to the forefront,” Dr. Mariah said, “When your mind flashes back, when is it flashing back to? The moment with your sister, the moment with your family, or just the process of existing in that space for a while?”

“...the first and third,” Lauriam said after a moment. “Thankfully it was just a momentary misunderstanding with Axel, and while there were a lot of problems that happened while we were there, it…”

Lauriam trailed off for a moment, not really sure he believed that nothing got as bad as it had for Strelitzia. 

{Anthony lived, he can fucking deal with being second place in that damn race}

{...fair.}

Marluxia let out a heavy huff. “He told you we just didn’t think about what happened to Strel at all for ages, right? There was no fucking reason to break out a mental map or show off a memory of our childhood house for the others. But after being back there for real…”

Squinting, his eyes growing shimmery, Marluxia reached up to hold the purple faux crystal hanging over their chest in his fist. “Now it’s like, out of nowhere - oh. That’s the exact place she died. We saw her get murdered there. Right in a damn place you can stand. We stood there. We watched people walk over it without breaking step. People were probably walking past and over it for over a decade, right where a fucking monster slashed her throat and left her body to crumble there--”

As Marluxia’s voice tightened Lauriam forcibly loosened their jaw, trying to steady their breaths.

“Take a moment,” Dr. Mariah said, “Wait to catch your breath. There’s no hurry.”

Nodding distractedly, Lauriam shifted to lean over his knees a little. He seemed to struggle for a moment letting go of the necklace, before stiffly, though gently uncurling his fingers, firmly and slowly rubbing his hands over his upper arms. 

And he breathed. 

In. Pause. Out. Pause. Repeat. 

A few tears dropping off his eyelashes, but the soothing motions not breaking their pattern.

Dr. Mariah gave him a few moments, watching him self-soothe. When the shaking lessened, she asked, “It sounds like you had difficulty processing your sister’s death. It’s understandable that even if you had come to process it, being reminded of it added new context that you now have to come to terms with. For instance, you seem in particular concerned with the time that’s passed, since it happened. Tell me more about your feelings, there. Take breaks. Again, there’s no hurry.”

After a few moments, Lauriam said in a quiet, fragile voice, “We’re older now than she ever got to be.” He huffed out a breath. “I forget even what it was, if that - if it was something the Head Secretary taunted or… I just remember feeling…haunted when I was 16 or something, a-and thinking we were about to be older than she was when she started taking care of us on her own.”

“She’s always been a damn fucking superhero in our head,” Marluxia said dully, before scoffing miserably, “But heroes don’t exist, and if we saw her now, she’d look like a kid. Linnea didn’t even realize she’d been killed at the house, she thought we just got caught and she died in the factory. It felt like people were wondering oh, aren’t you fucking happy to be home, Lauriam? While we were walking around a tomb.”

“I imagine that was a difficult conversation to have with your mother,” Dr. Mariah said, “That is ‘Linnea’, yes?”

“‘Mommy Linnea’ and ‘Mama Briar’,” Lauriam explained tiredly.

“They haven’t been our parents in a long time,” Marluxia clarified bitterly. 

Lauriam swallowed with a sigh. “I’m…trying. To make things better with Linnea. I understand she never wanted to abandon us, and she’s trying too.”

“It still doesn’t change she still did,” Marluxia muttered, even if his promise to be another person trying softened his words.

“Do you consider her to have raised you, Marluxia?” Dr. Mariah asked. Partly just curious, partly to gauge motivation. 

Marluxia sniffed, but he quickly swallowed the words, ‘no more than she did La-La’. “Yeah. All the memories I have of growing up? The same as Lauriam’s. As much as I know I was created when we were 12, it doesn’t feel like I just came out of nowhere then. The memories I have from when we were fully together still feel like mine.”

“Fascinating,” Dr. Mariah admitted, “But I won’t focus on that too much. I know your sister raised you for some time, but I think I failed to grasp that both of your parents are still alive. Tell me more about how that happened.”

Marluxia glanced up and gave her a smirk. “Not dying, usually.”

Lauriam rolled his eyes. “We grew up with a lot of money struggles. Our parents tried not to shove it in our faces, but it was always something pretty obvious once we had any sort of conception about money at all. Mama was in the mining industry, and especially when we were really little that was enough for us to be comfortable.”

“Apparently there were some debt issues, though, so her working normal hours slowly became not enough, and the mines closer to Romeliad dried up so they had to go farther into the mountains,” he continued to explain, a grim matter-of-factness about him. “So, with that same gradation, she was home less and less. I remember Mom being home all the time when I was super young, I guess to take care of the toddler at home, but she did repair work around town when I do remember her working. Romeliad’s not exactly some bustling metropolis, though, and not enough money was coming in through that so she started taking up contract work. Going to other, bigger cities to pick up contracts, bringing work back home if she could, sometimes just being gone for a few weeks. And like Mama, that all just increased as time went on.”

Marluxia rested his chin in a hand, saying dully, “She told us now that some of it was contract work, and some was debt negotiation, neither of which she wanted getting back to us, so that was why she worked in other cities, using fake identification. Can’t send someone to get a payment, or transfer debt to family if there’s no record of a family.”

Lauriam sighed softly, not bothering to change positions. “Apparently the debt got big enough that it was just safer for her to surrender to the program than risk collectors. To us and Strelitizia, we got a letter saying she’d found a bigger job she needed to be gone for a few months for. In reality, a factory just found another Empath, and we just figured she’d left us as months turned into years. And when the factory tracked us down, Mama came home on holiday leave to hear the neighbors saying we were dead, so I guess she didn’t want to stay there.”

There was a pause before Marluxia closed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing in. “...if she thought we were all gone…why didn’t she sell the house?”

Lauriam frowned for a few moments, before guessing, “...if there was no proof of Linnea’s death, the house was in her name, so maybe the deed wouldn’t transfer…?”

“I suppose you haven’t gotten back in touch, if that’s something you can only theorize about, rather than ask,” Dr. Mariah prompted.

Lauriam nodded uneasily, only then straightening up. “It hadn’t even crossed my mind to contact my birth parents again until I literally ran into one. I think if someone had asked if I wanted to, I’d probably say no. They abandoned me, and I’ve lived most of my life without them by this point, and I have a parent around that I don’t have any insecurities about what our relationship is, or how she feels about me.”

Marluxia snorted softly. “Dem-Dem’s pulling full avoidance tactics on actually finding his folks, ‘Enzy’s basically just considering a business relationship with the noble crew he found, and we are never letting the swamp fucks reach out to the kids now. None of us thought about trying to find anyone, ‘cause it didn’t seem like anyone was there.”

Giving another uneasy nod, Lauriam shrugged and said, “It’s probably possible to find Mama…but it’s not like Linnea’s tried either. And I get her point about just letting Mama move on and not drag her into all this.”

“...I imagine everyone is feeling some level of abandonment, to have been left in the factory at all,” Dr. Mariah guessed, trying to imagine it from the group’s point of view, “From what I understand of the Luminary program, no one is ever supposed to be in those places for more than a few months, spread out over years. I wouldn’t be surprised if most everyone who found themselves locked away in there long term expected someone to come find them. Their last known location was public knowledge, there was no expectation it’d be long term. Someone would come to find them.”

“The grief, the betrayal, of time going by and no sign of that actually happening… the level of damage that could do to someone’s sense of self. Their place in their families, their communities, in society in general… I’m not surprised to hear that essentially everyone you escaped with found a reason not to reach out to their loved ones,” Dr. Mariah said, “Because the conversation of ‘why didn’t you come’ would inevitably have to happen. And that is a terrible conversation to have.”

“But you did find your mother. And she was in the same predicament as you,” Dr. Mariah said, “Have you sat down with her to talk about this with any sort of depth?”

There was an odd sort of shuffle, like Lauriam and Marluxia were trying to share a glance with each other while sharing the same eyes. 

“...maybe emotionally,” Lauriam said graciously, being kind to the assessment. “But for everyone who came in, there had always been someone who’d been there for decades, and we made pretty clear that this was just…life. Especially for everyone who, I guess, came after Uncle Aeleus, it was important to make sure the newbie understood that there was no escape, there was no leaving.”

Because any hope of that kind led to, well…

There was a small wince in Lauriam’s face as he outlined a specific circumstance. “I was a teenager when Axel was brought in. Isa came a few months later because he was looking for Axel and ignored all the warning signs that told him he should stop. The government basically dug into everything they could to make sure he was arrested and taken away. Ienzo’s aunt told him that their family’s investigation into what happened to him was essentially sent on a wild goose chase until it was impossible to find a lead on him. Of course no one came for us. It was suicide to.”

“Other Empaths knew we were there. Made boogeymen freaks of the whole community,” Marluxia said lowly, “and the smartest fucking thing they could do was to keep their heads down.”

Lauriam sighed as he fussed with his hands in his lap. “Linnea and I haven’t spoken with…much depth. But for all that we were both in a factory, it feels like every time the subject comes up with Ira it’s made all the more clear just how different our experiences really were. I know that doesn’t mean we don’t have any common ground, but…” His eyes lowered. “I really don’t know how to ask about anything that isn’t eventually asking, ‘hey, how was it to watch almost every child you knew die?’”

“It might be a worthwhile question,” Dr. Mariah said a tad gently, “Considering you both have a dead child in common.”

“What happened to your sister was a shared experience, as much as I know you must feel alone in it,” she continued, “And your refusal to grieve with anyone else is making that harder to process. I’m sure, or, I would hope, you’ve grieved with someone about her in discussing what happened… but your mother had emotional stakes in it. Dismissing your shared experience out of anger for why you were alone to experience it in the first place is understandable. It’s understandable you resent your parents. But your mother is the only other person currently in your life who knew her. A conversation with her about what happened would at least allow you to explore that memory with someone who could understand the pain it would cause.”

“...that said, it’s not homework, and I would understand if you choose not to do that,” Dr. Mariah said, “It’s a painful experience, and I don’t know anything about your mother to know if she would handle it well on her end either. But not acknowledging anything happened only makes that grief worse over time. If not her, who else have you discussed your sister with?”

Lauriam took a deep breath, then another when it came out shaky. “We have talked about Strelitzia together. In grief, in just…to talk. But I haven’t really…” Lauriam struggled with his words for a moment, before gesturing his hand in a circle, spitting out the words, “y-you know, gone through it. Just the overview. I’m…not sure she’d want to know.”

“...but maybe she would,” he conceded quietly. 

“Luis and I have talked about her,” Marluxia said just as quietly, sounding tired. “The first person I talked to about her since she died. And Xaldin will sometimes ask us for stories if he notices us in our heads about it. I think Mom’s tried, but we end up just talking about Dad instead.”

Dr. Mariah slightly raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Luis, ‘In Rehab’ Luis? Forgive me for the clarification, but he’s a surprising name to hear for the first person you talked to for something that important. Not your lovers or your parents? Your closest friend?”

Marluxia smirked. “He fell into a hole in our head, right on top of this one,” he poked his head, “taking a nice long nap on his and Strel’s graves. Kind of forced the point, I’ll admit.”

“I do understand the surprise, but for as much as we do fall into certain subgroups among ourselves,” Lauriam smiled softly, “we are all still family. And Uncle Luis has always been a great person to talk to. …if…he’s not obliterated.”

“I see,” Dr. Mariah frowned, “...I’ll admit, I’m not sure how literally I should take the ‘sleeping on top of her grave’ statement. But that does remind me of a comment you made, Lauriam, where it felt like Marluxia was using your symptoms as a form of torture for the people you needed to condition. I remember that was where you started getting uncomfortable talking in depth about the subject without Marluxia around for context. Let’s go back to that comment. Tell me more about that process.”

Marluxia was about to say, oh, extremely literally, before he was promptly distracted by--

“WHAT!?!” Marluxia squawked, suddenly sitting so straight that he bounced slightly on the lounge.

(‘Did you use his self-loathing signs as an art project?’

Marluxia had looked at the cleared off metal plates, astounded as he read warnings that were just as esoteric as they…made a lot of sense. Pieces of metal he’d dug up from the ground, things that had been poisoning their garden. The same ground, that had once concealed…)

“Oh…” Marluxia whispered, before even his realization was distracted as he gave Dr. Mariah a panicked look. “Wait, what? No, no way he’d - Lauriam wouldn’t tell you how to--”

“--luxia,” Lauriam said firmly, finishing the word like it was something he’d been saying a few times, “I didn’t, it’s alright.”

“Well! Good!” Marluxia bit out, holding his hands in tight fists before giving Dr. Mariah an incredulous look that wasn’t devoid of fear. “The hell kind of thing you’re asking for, asking about conditioning?!”

“At the time, it seemed to make him uncomfortable when he mentioned it. And considering he asked for you to attend this session, I do want to attempt to make use of the fact that both of you are here to discuss things Lauriam will refuse to otherwise,” Dr. Mariah explained, “I can’t say I’ve learned anything new, to know you based your methods on Lauriam. I’m aware that torture in any form doesn’t lead to the results I saw with conditioning. And you wouldn’t need Empaths to just harm someone into obeying. That’s all to say, I highly doubt anything you’re about to tell me in relation to this would reveal the secret of conditioning to me,” Dr. Mariah said, “But it might reveal more about how you both feel about these symptoms.”

“Good! B-because we wouldn’t tell you any of it!” Marluxia declared, his voice overly loud and insistent as Lauriam rocked his knuckles into his wrist. But after a few tense moments, looking more like a teenager pretending to be a pro-wrestler than Marluxia’s bravado ever seemed to convey these days, he let out a shaky breath. 

“...I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said eventually, voice coming down to a more reasonable volume. “I didn’t realize…”

A sigh. 

“...I know you love your royals here, but the situation at home, in Luminary, is way different. All elites want is power, and the only way they’ll do it is by stomping over everyone else,” Marluxia said grimly, “And some of that attitude trickles down too. Everything we ever had in the factory, physically, was at the benevolence of the supervisors, so to ensure anything solid, you had to bargain. And to be able to bargain well, you need power.”

Marluxia grimaced, glaring at the far ground. “I figured out early on how to do something…special for Indentureds. Make them exactly how an elite would want. And that meant I could do something the supervisors wanted, so if they wanted it? They’d have to meet my demand.”

“...and to…to make Indentureds act a certain way…” Here Marluxia started to falter again, sweating as he ran his words through his mind over and over to ensure he wasn’t letting anything slip, “Then the best way was to make acting any other way unbearable.”

Lauriam’s eyes lowered. “And there isn’t anything worse than feeling like I do.”

At least in Marluxia’s eyes.

“...interesting,” Dr. Mariah said, tilting her head slightly, “So, you used to regularly recreate the trauma Lauriam experienced? Or just the symptoms?”

Again Marluxia paused, thinking over what he could say. “...symptoms. Um, Zexy had some nerd talk for what all that, like…became to them? Uh…”

Lauriam glanced up, squinting. “...re…rejection sensitive dysphoria. I think. Basically, like…be everything your owner wants, you’re on cloud nine. Veer out of line any,” he gestured to himself with a sigh to finish the point.

“And you were… on board?” Dr. Mariah asked Lauriam, “For this assessment of your psyche? There’s no worse way to feel, than being you?”

“I literally only put it together while we were talking before,” Lauriam dryly told Dr. Mariah, before pouting a little. “...I’m sure there are worse ways to feel. And I don’t feel horrible all the time. Like, it’s kind of egotistical to assume that you’re literally, objectively the worst.”

“Wow, he can’t even be proud of being the biggest loser,” Marluxia drawled.

“...Marluxia,” Dr. Mariah said, “This is going to sound random, but I promise I’m asking to understand something better. Can I ask you… why do you find Lauriam attractive? Why are you dating?”

“What?” Marluxia blinked at Dr. Mariah in pure surprise before raising an eyebrow at her. “Uh, have you seen him smile when he’s actually happy about something? It’s one of the cutest things in the godsdamned world.”

“Mars!” Lauriam huffed, looking flustered.

“Shhh, lemme brag,” Marluxia snickered, patting his cheek. “Look, he’s a dumbass and a sadsack and he’s waaaaaay too on the jump to give pieces of himself to other people, but that shit always pales to how fucking on the ball La-La is when it comes to picking situations up on the fly and running with it, and knowing just the perfect way to cheer someone up, or even just make a shitty vibe a little less shitty, or shitty in the way it feels good. He’s got a lot of love to give, and that gold is premium, people don’t know just how unbelievably lucky they are to have it, and they could fucking stand to say it more. He’s also hot as fuck and a great kisser.”

As Marluxia laughed at the flustered fumes in his head, his grin was truly fond. “...and he’s one of the only people that’s ever really gotten me, you know? Even being able to read my thoughts and memories doesn’t guarantee that, believe me, we’ve seen plenty of examples otherwise. So it’s just him. And on top of that, he believes in me too, so fancy that. As infuriating as it can be, sometimes,” his smile softened, “it’s nice having someone know what you mean without having to spell it out all the way, or to get it when no one else does. La-La’s a fucking handful, but he’s my handful and of anyone I’m attached heart and soul to, I’m glad it’s him.”

“That’s a lovely answer. And I’m not discrediting it. I’m just trying to understand,” Dr. Mariah said, shifting her hair over her shoulder, “Your form of torture was… recreating him? Over and over in other people? I’m struggling to decide if that’s its own sort of fixation, a condemnation, or perhaps simply a sign that at the time you were creating this method, you weren’t in the same emotional or mental space you are now, regarding Lauriam. It’s… a bit of an unkind thing to do.”

“Oh that’s such a creepy way to frame it,” Lauriam muttered, having curled into a red-faced, flustered ball from Marluxia’s proud exuberance. 

Though while the blush wasn’t quick to fade, Marluxia just blinked and tilted his head at Dr. Mariah as he sat up out of the ball. “Uh…yeah? Yeah, it’s fucking weird and creepy and kinda insulting. Like, the whole ‘what even matters, I’m supposed to be dead anyway, I should kill myself’ and ‘I’m worse than scum, everything I touch is ruined’ shit are things I hate about La-La and I’m definitely not the only one who’s been hoping this whole therapy thing will stop him from doing that, but I super wasn’t thinking to myself, oh, yanno what I should add to the pits today? La-La’s latest breakdown.”

He frowned, eyebrows drawing down. “I just kept refining ways to make ‘em feel hopeless and helpless.”

Lauriam’s frown was more contemplative. “...what other frame of reference, or even concept of those things would you have but me? We have the same brain. People hardly even wanted to acknowledge you as anything but my construct while we were in the factory.”

“Were you not close to any of the others in your early years, Marluxia?” Dr. Mariah asked.

Marluxia sighed. “No, he’s talking about the fucking…Nobody Rules. Like, our parents were our parents and Dilan and Xaldin have been close to us forever, but even if it was basically eased out to be nonexistent by the time the kids showed up, while no one said the exact words, Nobodies were still treated ‘lesser’ when I was made.”

He rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Never forget you’re a figment of someone else’s mind with a job to do, and of course it’s a job you adore~, it’d be too cruel for them to make you any other way, if you even had feelings at all. Above all, protect your Somebody, take their punishments, be the only one ever talking to the supervisors, you’re not real so it wouldn’t hurt you. Never start asking for things, never act in a way they won’t expect, don’t scare them, because that means you’re broken and they’ll have to remake you, and that’s such a pain, we’ll be behind on quotas.”

Lauriam scowled, hating hearing it even now. “No one followed all that to a T, even the people enforcing it most on the rest of us… But it was the sentiment that that was how things ‘should’ be. Zexion said it was even worse when he joined, and it sounds worse than that from how Xaldin’s described things.”

Well, far from the first ‘master/slave’ relationship Dr. Mariah’s had on her therapy seats, though this one was far more pseudo than what Kaito had going on with Shuichi and, she would still insist, Maki to an extent. And honestly there was probably a lot to unpack there, but…

Once again Dr. Mariah was just reminded of how much there was to these two, and worse, how she couldn’t grasp what was actually important yet. 

“That’s a difficult situation to grow up in. But you still based your torture techniques on Lauriam’s lifestyle, not your own, or any of the others you’ve lived with, nor seen their torture techniques and utilized them for yourself,” Dr. Mariah said, “I’m only bringing attention back to that, because I’ve become concerned with the repercussions of such an act. You’ve taken the traits that most trouble Lauriam, in his own mind, and then reinforced them over and over again by recreating them through what I have to assume was hundreds of people going through your mind. Establishing over and over again that it was the worst possible way for anyone to be, a terrible existence that anyone would do anything to escape.”

“...this isn’t necessarily a critique. There’s actually been some patients I’ve used this concept to help them confront their own pain and trauma, it’s healthy, to an extent… but I think it’s possible you’ve reached past that extent, to a different problem entirely,” Dr. Mariah said slowly, reasoning to herself the words as she spoke them, “I think you’ve perhaps… romanticized Lauriam’s suffering, to a point. Put so much focus on it to the point of exacerbating the issue.”

For a moment Marluxia looked puzzled. He didn’t think what he’d done for conditioning was romanticizing anything, except for, like, making servitude totally rad. But putting focus on it?

“...well, shit,” he muttered, frowning more. “...Dad was even more right than he realized to dig you out of the dirt, huh.”

“Fuck,” Lauriam said in simple concern. Though, he looked up at Dr. Mariah warily. “But I got rid of the pits when I woke up, since we don’t need to condition anymore. So…that shouldn’t keep making it worse, right?” Even if that was the direct opposite of his initial guess. He was used to those being wrong. And it wasn’t like the pits existing were exactly taking those thoughts and feelings out of his head. His world very literally was still his mind. Now, there was just no…meta-physical manifestation of them.

“I don’t necessarily mean they were reinforcing the issue from how you might call it the ‘Empath’ perspective,” Dr. Mariah said, “Mostly because I have no authority or expertise to even suggest that. I just mean his symptoms making other people miserable, consciously or not, was something Lauriam saw over and over again for it seems like most of his life at this point. Which can…”

Dr. Mariah paused… before she sighed, leaning back. “There’s a fundamental truth about how therapy works, and it reflects a fundamental truth about how the human psyche works. If the patient doesn’t believe change is possible? It’s not. The effectiveness of therapy, of coping techniques, tools to face life challenges or explorations to find the root of things, begin and end purely through the patient's willingness to consider anything could ever be different. Mental wellness is not something I, or any therapist, can force on you.”

“In the same sense, if you’re being told, and reinforced, and consistently shown that you are the most miserable person to ever live and that it’s terrible to be you and that the only escape is to either die or become an entirely different person… the belief of it proves it. You make decisions based on it. You reject or accept things to align with it, and perhaps the most obstructive, you stop being able to perceive of a reality outside of it.” Dr. Mariah said, “Now, I’m not sure if that’s something you’re actually experiencing. I don’t know you well enough to say if you’ve rejected moments or opportunities for happiness or improvement based on the idea that your suffering is inevitable. But I do think that you lived in a place where suffering was prominent and widespread… and still based conditioning on yourself…”

Dr. Mariah paused… before amending, “Though, I do have to remember that this started when you were teenagers. Every teenager believes they’re uniquely the most miserable person who ever lived. It’s just important that you can recognize now that your life is more than that, and you are more than that. That you don’t consider suffering the whole of who you are.”

Lauriam smiled weakly. “I think I understand what you’re saying, but…Dr. Mariah, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe I could change. I might’ve talked to you the first time because Even and Aeleus just said it was happening, but after that? I’ll be honest, a lot of this stuff is just confusing and I don’t get it. But if there’s even the smallest chance that I can, I dunno, have some breakthrough or perspective shift, or even make tiny imperceptible changes that’ll one day add up and equal that I’m not routinely upset and in crisis mode, I’d keep talking to you even if I had to just say the alphabet to still have something to speak of.”

“See? Look at that,” Marluxia huffed, before smirking as he poked his cheek, “How is that not the cutest shit ever?”

“Mars, stop,” Lauriam laughed softly, “She didn’t even ask for more examples.”

“Then stop giving them~”

Dr. Mariah smiled lightly.

…she still had no idea what was going on with him either.

It was tempting to play it off as merely the side effects of the seizures, but Dr. Mariah couldn’t put her stamp of approval on that yet. Mostly because Lauriam had too many examples of it happening through too much of his life, but the idea that he was having seizures was brand new to him. Perhaps his seizures had been life-long and subtle enough that he, nor anyone else, knew what was happening, that was always a possibility. But that was still a significant part of his life where that was happening, and it still wouldn’t explain everything. 

Perhaps he just had shit life syndrome, that was also fair. But there were too many examples just in his life in general to show why that might not be the case either. Everyone Lauriam knew had a shit life, but from Lauriam’s perspective, he was the most erratic and unpredictable of the bunch. And as much as Dr. Mariah was concerned Lauriam had made his pain too much of his identity, she couldn’t discount his perspective to the point of dismissing it. If he had been uniquely suffering, it hadn’t been his circumstances–those had been shared with the group–so something else had to have been going on to make it as bad as it had gotten.

Perhaps it was hormonal, but Dr. Mariah hadn’t noticed a pattern in cycles yet. Perhaps it was behavioral, but Dr. Mariah didn’t think he was delusional about how bad his life actually was. If anything, Marluxia had done that, not Lauriam. 

…it could be permanent brain damage.

But Dr. Mariah didn’t want to consider that just yet. Though, if it was, there were still ways to help him cope. She just wanted to consider all other options first. 

“What does it mean, that your father ‘dug you out of the dirt’?” Dr. Mariah asked.

“What it sounds like,” Lauriam smiled warily, “On bad days, sometimes I’d just…start sinking into the dirt in our world while sleeping. And when he got wind of it, he’d come and dig me out and make me do something. Sometimes that’d just be hanging out in the clouds with him, but sometimes he’d threaten to give me a pin to the ‘Old People Body Building’ club and have me join sit-ups or whatever Aeleus and Dilan were doing.”

Dr. Mariah nodded. “A forceful change in scenery or action is a common way of derailing spiraling thoughts. It’s a bit derivative, but our environment is a massive factor to a mental state. Even just a brief walk, or moving to a different room, can derail an episode if it distracts the mind just long enough to derail echo-chamber thoughts. In the same way recreating your pain in others can reinforce negative thoughts, putting yourself in an environment that reinforces them can harm you as well. I imagine days sinking into the dirt did not help with the deceased delusions.”

“I think Xaldin said something like that to me when I tried staying in our room all the time.” While there was a smile on Lauriam’s face, the small sigh that left him as he brushed some hair out of his face read nothing but stress. “I…really can’t explain to you enough how depressing it was. I don’t think even dropping the image in your head would get the point across.”

Marluxia turned the motion into a cheek scratch. “...yanno, the fact that that particular dirt was filled with death imagery if you went down far enough probably didn’t either. And that it’s where I’d put you when you needed to shut up for a while.”

“Probably.” Lauriam winced.

Dr. Mariah almost just didn’t want to ask… “Were you in the habit of burying Lauriam as well, Marluxia?”

Marluxia’s eyebrows raised a bit in surprise. “Yeah? Wasn’t that what you guys talked about, like, last week or whatever, about us not shutting La-La down? He couldn’t help fronting during our punishments if he was just out in our world, so I figured out how to bury him. Turned out to be a way to stop him rampaging too, but I didn’t figure out how to forcibly front like that until Dad died, and even then it took the shit out of me.”

“No, this is new information for me,” Dr. Mariah said, her face neutral, “Though, as a rule, burying your partner, or anyone you care about, deep into the earth to not deal with their emotions is going to be generally discouraged. The information I was basing this on was mostly… physically holding him down or… emotion domes, I suppose. But burying alive is included in that.”

Marluxia shrugged a little, mentioning that he had agreed to Lauriam’s request…

…but there was a part of him, one that looked like → ❀눈3눈 that that muttered in his thoughts about how discouraged it really was when your whole fucking family is pleading with you to do something before your other half got you all killed. 

Though, Lauriam nodded and looked a bit sheepish. “Um…yeah. I said ‘holding me down’. That’s, um…what I meant. Down, like down in our consciousness.”

“It’s not scary,” he tried to reassure after a moment, “At least for me. It’s kinda just like going to sleep. And it was a system we worked out and both agreed to for our punishments. Marluxia’s right, I was really bad at taking them, so it was always safer if I was asleep, and then fronted when we got back to our room so he could rest and not think about having to do anything.”

“It feels like I’ve heard you discuss quite a few punishments you were there for, Lauriam.” Dr. Mariah said, “Was this trade-off between you two sometimes inconsistent?”

The two of them grimaced at the same time. 

“We didn’t…really nail down the formula until…four, five years ago?” Lauriam admitted.

“Left a looooong time for not so much trial, and a lot of error,” Marluxia huffed. “And when we were little, I had a lot of trouble controlling our body at all, then for anything more than a few minutes at best. So a lot of our firsts were La-La alone.”

“Not alone-alone,” Lauriam said softly, pressing his thumb into his wrist.

Marluxia just sighed.

“...” Dr. Mariah leaned back into the chair and sighed, “...I think I was mistaken. I believe after today’s session, it might be wise to start doing these sessions with both of you.”

“See, it just takes a little time to warm up to me~” Marluxia winked at Dr. Mariah.

Lauriam smiled weakly. “I know what you said all about focusing on me individually, and being considerate of others when it comes to that, but Marluxia and I really are intertwined in ways that most separate people just…aren’t. We have things that are our own, of course, but a lot of things are our issues together by virtue of the fact we’re always in it together.”

That, and it was useful to see Lauriam talk to someone else. Lauriams apathy and defeatism to his own problems was leading Dr. Mariah to too many deadends. Marluxia caring about Lauriam for Lauriam at least gave some direction to the issues that were most plaguing him. Dr. Mariah doubted Lauriam himself would have ever, or would ever, say that his misery had been copy and pasted into other people ad nauseum, or would be willing to admit there was anything disturbing about that… but Marluxia had recognized it as soon as Dr. Mariah had pointed it out. And Lauriam had trusted Marluxia’s observation, so he had accepted it immediately.

Dr. Mariah was trying to do this ethically, but she wasn’t above using shortcuts when it was handed to her. Marluxia was a shortcut to getting to know Lauriam, since Lauriam didn’t seem particularly interested in expressing himself. Dr. Mariah would just have to consider them both patients by this point, and try to fairly give her attention between them…tricky, since very likely half of their issues were actually each other. But she’d manage.

“Indeed,” Dr. Mariah said instead, “What about you, Marluxia? Would you feel comfortable attending these sessions regularly?” 

“Uh, duh,” he huffed, giving her a lidded look, “I’ve been waiting for you to come to this conclusion basically since you told me to run off and play with my toys. No one knows you better than your Nobody, and especially this dweeb who practically made me to replace him.”

“I see,” Dr. Mariah said, “How literally should I take that statement?”

Lauriam sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly. “I was extremely depressed, thought I was dead, and was in immediate recovery after being beaten to unconsciousness several times.”

“I literally started rationalizing to myself you didn’t exist as soon as you were out of sight,” Marluxia drawled. 

“Expand on that, Marluxia,” Dr. Mariah said.

He let out a little groan, resting in his palm again. “I am being a little hyperbolic. But while all the Somebodies were asleep, I eventually started believing that I was Lauriam, more than what that usually means when we say it. Like there was no damn Somebody/Nobody split, I was just who Lauriam had to be to live in the factory, so I had a different name, despite having over a damn decade of memories of him literally coexisting next to me.”

“S’ why I thought everyone was being dumb to try and get their Somebodies back, why I didn’t say bye to Larxy…” For a brief moment, something genuinely pained and regretful flashed through Marluxia’s face. “Why it took Xaldin fucking taunting me and me blowing up at him and Luis for the others to basically force me to go through with actually finding La-La. I thought it was all fake.”

“So you became the primary person in the body, and started also having delusions?” Dr. Mariah clarified, “Was this common for your group, or something unique to you?”

Marluxia pouted a bit at that, before he clearly hesitated at the question. “Uh… Well, I’m not really sure how much Isa believed he was Saix? And for everyone without a Nobody other than Luis, I think it was more peer pressured belief than a straight up delusion. I think Axel’s hinted that he thought we were all just doin’ weird shit and Nobodies weren’t actually a thing, but he just went with the flow.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Mariah hummed. She knew a little about Isa in prepping for the games and deciding who would and wouldn’t do what, and Isa had been one of the ones she had recommended not play after hearing about the struggles he had with delusions. At the time, his had seemed more extreme then the whispers she had heard about Lauriam, and Dr. Mariah wasn’t sure if that wasn’t still a wise assessment on her part, though knowing Lauriam regularly believed he was dead and that Marluxia could just as easily believe that might have made Dr. Mariah reconsider inviting them as well. 

But, that was beside the point. Moreso, it didn’t seem out of line that Isa, based on what she knew of his condition, would also lose track of his own reality. So not necessarily a group issue, still fairly individual. Isa’s, if Dr. Mariah had to make an uninformed guess just by what he knew of him, was likely dealing with behavioral psychosis–his coping mechanisms had essentially taken him straight to delusions–but Marluxia having the same delusions as Lauriam when in charge of the body…

“I think there’s growing evidence that your belief that you’re dead, sometimes, Lauriam, might be the seizure aftereffects, or possible damage to your brain tissue due to a head wound,” Dr. Mariah said, “You believing it yourself could be just that: belief. But Marluxia believing it suggests there’s something much more physical going on. I’m going to recommend two different doctors. A neurologist and a psychiatrist. One to look at potential damage to your brain, the other to give you medication to deal with stress before they lead to seizures.”

“Therapy sessions will still be helpful. But I believe the appointments are more immediately necessary,” Dr. Mariah said, “I’m going to pick out some names tonight and make a few office visits, I’d like you to see both this week.”

Possible damage to brain tissue due to a head wound…

Lauriam’s eyes widened as he sat up, giving Dr. Mariah an alarmed look. “What, like brain damage?! That can change what you believe?!”

“Our brains are a primary source of belief, yes. More than that, they carry our instincts, our ‘gut feelings’ even,” Dr. Mariah said, “There might be a part of your brain that simply short-circuits and cannot recognize your signs of life anymore. Or, that might not be what’s happening at all, and a neurologist and psychiatrist can at least debunk the theory. If that’s the case, we move on and try other sources.”

“I know it’s alarming. But it sounds like it’s something you’ve been challenged with for a very long time. If it is brain damage, it likely happened when you were young. And if it’s the after effects of the seizures, well, that would ultimately be a good thing, as that means with care and attention it could be temporary… but either way, it’s manageable. You’ve already been managing it without help, and now you will have help. It can only improve.” Dr. Mariah assured him.

Lauriam only looked so comforted by that as he fretted with his fingers for a few quiet moments. Before speaking up quietly. “...the first healer I went to see, the one that told me I got seizures… They wanted me to get some special medical thing done when I could, this brain scanning thing. Everyone I’ve talked to about it says it’s pretty new? So…the chance of it spotting that I’m an Empath is probably low, right?”

“I don’t know,” Dr. Mariah admitted, “But if it’s new and there was a way to spot empath-based physionics through it, I doubt the neurologist would know how to recognize it. In a way, it almost doesn’t matter. You need the assistance, Lauriam. You as well, Marluxia.”

Marluxia scoffed. “Uh, it matters a hell of a lot. We are not getting imprisoned again.” While his words were his usual, standard impassioned, there was a dark severity in Marluxia’s eyes that promised just how far he’d go to avoid being someone’s captive again. 

Though, Dr. Mariah likely already knew that, considering the mess she’d walked into underground. 

“We’ll…take your suggestions for the appointments,” Lauriam softly agreed, looking down and tired about the same sentiment.

“I’ll send you your appointments dates and times tomorrow then,” Dr. Mariah said, “And you don’t have to fear being imprisoned again, not here. You are protected. I know that’s hard to trust. But it is true.”

“That seems to be a good stopping point for our session today,” Dr.Mariah said, tapping at her notebook lightly, “Do either of you have anything you wish to discuss before todays end?”

It was incredibly hard to trust. As she’d mentioned before, time changed everything, but Lauriam and Marluxia found it hard to believe there’d ever not be at least a little of them that held onto that fear, using it as motivation to ensure their freedom. But, well, they’d see. 

For a moment Lauriam’s eyes grew hazy and unfocused before he smiled softly. “I think we’re going to try cooking something emotionally soon? So we might be able to give an update on that next time.”

“Good. That should be interesting to test, and something I’d be open to being the guinea pig on, if you need it,” Dr. Mariah offered, frowning, “Oh, I just realized, I never asked how the issue with Demyx ended. Do you need any follow up on that? Or has that been resolved since you brought it up?”

“Oh my goooooood,” Marluxia groaned, tipping his head forward, “You talked about it to her too?! Look, I can handle my own tiffs, you don’t need to intervene, La-La! Demyx is a raging coward but for some ungodly reason he’s not scared of me, and he was begging me by the end to tell people we’re cool just so they’d get off his back.”

“Sorry, I…” Lauriam sighed, shrinking slightly. “Sorry.”

Dr. Mariah looked mildly surprised, “Ah, so… not entirely resolved yet?”

“It is,” Marluxia sighed. “Dem-Dem talked to me last night, said he was sick of almost fighting with everyone over it and just wanted us to be cool. And since he was the only one with a real reason to be mad, we resolved it.”

“I didn’t mean to fight with him,” Lauriam said softly. “Before I came to talk to you he said that we’d figure out what happened then reconvene, but I think I just…messed it up. He said he wasn’t mad at me anymore, which is nice, but I wish I hadn’t pissed him off in the first place.”

“Oh my god,” Marluxia groaned again, “Lauriam. He wasn’t mad at you. He looked at me like I said my favorite music genre was bike horns when I told him to go make you stop moping.”

“Communicating even between people who know each other well is full of potential missteps,” Dr. Mariah said a touch gently, “It’s often not a fault of either party when that happens, just a reality that everyone stumbles across. Usually how one resolves that miscommunication matters more than the original argument. If you feel comfortable you’ve worked things out with Demyx? I don’t think there’s anything you have to feel regret about.”

“I know I can be stubborn and argumentative,” Lauriam huffed, slightly amused, “It’s not like I’m glad to fight with my family that way, but at least I get it. I just hate making someone upset when I’m trying to help, or…doing what I thought we agreed on. But if he’s totally confused by the whole idea of it, then there’s really nothing for me to be stuck on.”

“I couldn’t say one way or another without hearing more about it,” Dr. Mariah admitted, “Though it does sound like you had a separate fight with him outside of his issue with Marluxia. Have you two talked that out?”

“It was kind of the same thing? I went to go apologize to him after the fight, and to explain what happened like we talked about, but Demyx,” Lauriam sighed, “didn’t want to hear it, I guess. I just said stuff poorly. But he said he wasn’t mad about that, so I guess I didn’t really bother him.”

Sticking his tongue out, Marluxia poked his head a few times. “You don’t need to apologize for me! People can talk to me their own damn selves if they’ve got an issue!”

“Well, it sounds like you all worked it out,” Dr. Mariah said, “Anything else you wished to discuss before the session ended?”

“Nnghmfn.”

Lauriam frowned and squinted for a moment. Very carefully and deliberately saying, “I think that’s everything, thank you.”

-

Admittedly, sometimes Marcoh wondered if he had been hired to babysit the building, more than make actual coffee.

For one, it’d make a little more sense why he had been hired at all. Marcoh had been going through the businesses in the city basically street by street, first applying for jobs he wanted, then applying for ones that made sense for him, before over the last few months desperately just applying for anywhere that had a HIRE sign. When Marcoh had first put in his resume at this place, he had sort of thought the shop was still under construction, and that he’d hear back, maybe, in a few months when the shop was properly finished and, maybe, possibly, they wanted a strong guy to be around for the cute coffee shop girls they’d want to fill the place up with.

Instead, he had gotten a letter saying he’d start the next day, and indeed, Marcoh had been surprised when he had shown up the next morning, a guy had given him a key and briefly shown him how to work the coffee machine, before telling him he’d stay employed for every week the shop didn’t burn down under his watch. 

After the first few days of just standing at the register, wondering if anyone outside could even tell if the place was open like he hadn’t been able to, Marcoh had washed the windows, washed the floors, changed out some lightbulbs, and opened the door while keeping the OPEN sign on the window, and that had helped a little. Now he got the occasional customer who he sold admittedly lackluster coffee too. 

He got snacks shipped into the store once a week. They were kinda bad snacks. He so far did not get a lot of repeat customers, and Marcoh had no idea how the place was still in business after working there for near a month now and making almost no profit.

But, his check came in at the end of every week as promised, so…

Marcoh was looking busy in the empty coffee shop again that day, cleaning the mugs for a lack of anything better to do, when he heard the sound of footsteps. He tried to greet customers when they showed up, but his nerves often got the best of him in the moment, and he mumbled a greeting that probably didn’t sound like much as he stared fixedly at the mug he was cleaning.

There wasn’t much of a need. It had been a little bit since Daan had gotten back to Tiavel, but he was very much still on the ‘don’t do much for the love of Kyurem rest’ period. But put simply, it was incredibly boring just lounging around at home, especially when Girl was at school and Moonless moped around waiting for her to get back.

So Daan had headed out, doing the incredibly normal thing of getting some work done at a coffee shop. At a very normal coffee shop that was entirely empty except for the guy who kept going through jobs like he was a business curse. 

“Hey,” Daan greeted Marcoh back, half regretting his decision to force himself to stay somewhere he couldn’t smoke, “This isn’t just a mug cleaning shop and I got it twisted that coffee’s actually a thing here, right?”

Marcoh startled, looking up… before he simultaneously relaxed and immediately felt a little flustered. Not for any particular reason, just being around people he knew made him shy in a different way, as he tried to casually greet, “...ey.”

And then after a beat it occurred to him Daan had asked him a question, and Marcoh gestured vaguely to the giant metal coffee machine that looked like it had been ripped out of a wall at a warehouse somewhere. “Got black and, uh… lighter. Think it’s called ‘veranda’. Can put vanilla in it and… hey Daan,” Marcoh tried again, realizing he was overexplaining ‘making coffee’, “Want a coffee? Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

The corner of Daan’s lips tilted up in mirth. It wasn’t exactly “funny” how Marcoh struggled to talk to people, but there was something nice in the predictable familiarity of it. Seasons may change, people would come and go, it’d still take Marcoh three tries to say hello. “Didn’t come by just to say hello, so, yeah. Could I get a cup dark with the vanilla?”

Shifting the folders in his hand under an arm and pulling out his wallet, Daan gave Marcoh a small nod. “Barely realized there was a coffee shop this close by at all, let alone that you worked here. Things not work out at, what was it, the tourism agency?”

“Olivia told you?” Marcoh guessed, heading to the coffee machine, leaning away to protect his face, pulling down the crank connected to one of the nozzles. There was a massive STRRRRRRM as steam escaped, Marcoh’s wrist going a bit red as he kept the mug steady beneath, before dark-roast coffee started to sputter out, it taking a moment before a steady stream actually started to fall. “Yeah, dunno… feds showed up one day. Talking ‘bout travel insurance scams. Couldn’t get my head around it, sounded complicated to me. Was spent talking to them for a night before they realized I genuinely didn’t know what was what… Vanilla?”

Marcoh went to the fridge, another piece equipment that looked like it had been lifted from a warehouse, opening it up with a grunt as he pulled at the safety lever, the cool air letting out its own sort of steam as he pulled out a pitcher, carefully pouring some of the vanilla cream inside into the mug, before spinning it with a dainty little spoon, passing the mug over the counter to Daan. “You want any sorta cookie with that or somethin’?”

“Got it in one. She was excited to catch me up to date on everything, likely given that she’d just heard it from you, Tanaka, and Mrs. D’arce.”

Olivia hadn’t shared her musings with Daan as she had more recently with Marcoh, but just in his own observations, it was pretty coincidental how all of them that had left home had been returned one by one. Olivia hadn’t even been far, but was taking her sabbatical from education easy after her accident, Daan himself had shown up back in country only weeks after, Pav had returned so out of the blue people had hardly realized he was back, and Karin’s homecoming had been the celebratory last nail in the coffin. Everyone back within a few months. 

Made it easy to gradually catch everyone up, he supposed. 

Tilting his head a little to get the scuffed pricing board into focus, Daan pulled out the cash for his drink, sighing at Marcoh’s luck. “If I didn’t know you better I’d ask if you were taking jobs your father offered. It’s ridiculous that it happened again. We all thought it was wild when it was just that summer carriage washing gig in high school, but the joke’s run its course.”

It was idle talk, more than anything, but Daan found himself distracted by the screech of steam from the coffee machine, frowning as he caught a glimpse of red skin. Hardly acknowledging Marcoh’s question about the cookie, he frowned, asking, “Did you burn yourself?”

The question was, apparently, a formality, as Daan set his folders down and hopped over the side of the counter, taking Marcoh’s wrist with a deeper frown, examining it as he pulled him over to the sink.

Marcoh suspected it might still have something to do with his father. Not that his father was pulling strings for him, but more, well… if the eldest Crime son was going around looking for work? Maybe only a few places wouldn’t immediately throw his resume away– “ah.”

That little ‘ah’ was his only show of surprise, though Marcoh was VERY surprised when Daan hopped the counter and grabbed him, pulling him along. Marcoh was a pretty big guy, but that still didn’t mean he had exactly ‘let’ Daan both catch him by surprise nor move him around. Daan was slight in build, but his time away had clearly given him a chance to learn how to throw around his weight, and Marcoh felt in his grip a very real possibility that if Marcoh tried to pull out of his grip, he might not succeed.

That said: he didn’t try to pull away. Letting Daan pull him along as he said, “‘s alright, you get used to it…”

As Daan looked over Marcoh’s wrist, Marcoh took the chance of being so close to him to look at Daan’s eyepatch. “...things rough overseas?”

“The both of us are going to pretend you didn’t just say you’re getting used to major infection risks,” Daan grumbled, pulling Marcoh’s wrist under cool water. In all honesty, it wasn’t a bad burn at all and Daan couldn’t find signs of blistering or scarring from constant or rapid burns. But in some ways, preventative care was the most important, and??? MARCOH???? Don’t try to lose your hand?!?!?

It wasn’t that Daan knew him to be reckless, exactly. Compared to a lot of their friends, Marcoh was remarkably careful. It was more an idea of…if something did happen, then Marcoh could take it. If something was rough, why try to make it gentler? And that sort of mindset led to stuff like this.

…though it tended to be a mindset reserved for Marcoh alone. 

Daan glanced up at him for a moment before returning his attention to the burn. “Remarkably. Karin may have exposed a particularly egregious horror for the world to see, but Panem’s civil war isn’t exactly one by proxy. Battlefields include entire towns, their populations included, and that’s to barely touch on all the categories of foreigners getting involved. It’s almost like the war is a vortex reaching all over the world to pull people in to their deaths.”

Finally letting Marcoh’s wrist go, Daan gave him a small smirk. “So let it say something when a battlefield medic is still paying attention to this, hm? You’ll be alright, and I don’t exactly have supplies on me, but wrapping your wrist up with some aloe will help. Do you think laying a damp cloth over where the steam comes out would be able to catch most of it?”

“Ye, I can start doing that,” Marcoh agreed, just seeing the sense in the idea. Yeah, putting a rag around his wrist probably would help. S’not like he loved the sting, he’d start doing that. 

Getting his hand back, Marco clenched and unclenched his fist, loosening the wrist lightly, mostly just easing the feeling of someone else's skin on his own. It wasn’t a sensation he was used to, at least not in a friendly way. As he considered everything Daan had said about the war… he startled, “Oh, uh…five copper for the drink.” He paused. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Daan hummed lightly, more sedately just walking back around the counter this time. He pushed the coins he’d pulled out before towards Marcoh before picking up the drink and his folders. Scoping out a place he wanted to sit as he took a sip--pretty mediocre, he was glad he asked for the vanilla--he tilted his head at Marcoh. “It usually this dead?”

“Ye,” Marcoh said plainly, leaning against the counter by the register after he had logged the coffee, glancing at the open door. “‘S why I’m surprised you picked this place. Guess it’s good if you want something quiet. What ‘re you, uh… working on?” Marcoh asked, frowning as he looked at the folders in Daan’s hand, “...dun tell me if I ain’t supposed to know. Not trying to start anythin’.”

“It’s not a secret.” Daan picked a small table near the front counter, setting his things down with a small sigh. Gesturing to his eyepatch, he explained, “Can’t practice surgery with impaired vision. I wasn’t really trying to be a surgeon anyway, but a lot of practices have reservations about internal procedures for the same reason.”

He rolled his remaining eye, feeling an ache where the other used to be. “No place would take me while in recovery anyway, but I’m looking into GP courses. Seeing what my best options will be when I can practice again, I mean.”

…he just wanted to be able to help people, at the end of the day, and it seemed like a waste to throw all the years of medical school and residency training away when he was still more than capable of most things. Maybe some neighborhood clinic wasn’t exactly putting him in a spot to help people left by the system, but he wasn’t so unaware of his own limits to not recognize he needed the break. 

The war had been a lot. 

A lot a lot.

Daan spaced out for a bit, just thumbing the edge of his folders. “...it’s pretty interesting, isn’t it, that six out of six of us came back from military service alive. A statistic people would kill for.”

“‘S it that bad? I mean, ‘s it like… is it not gonna get better?” Marcoh asked, gesturing to his own eye to indicate what he meant, though he looked down with something close to shame in his eyes at Daan’s point about the war, “...yeah. It’s good you all came back. Wasn’t sure Pav… well, y’know.”

Marcoh had conflicting feelings about his younger brother’s sudden return. On one hand, it was a good thing, because that meant his family was alive and safe. That was good, and Marcoh genuinely felt that way.

But his and Pav’s relationship… wasn’t the easiest thing. Not that any of the Crimes ‘easily’ got along. Being big, aggressive, violent personalities seemed to be a family trait. One Marcoh kinda had himself too, he guessed, in the right circumstances. But it didn’t seem to come onto him so suddenly and violently as it did his father and siblings, and Marcoh wasn’t looking forward to needing to be the body in between them if there were fights. Not to mention just… Pav in general.

And one thing Pav had already mentioned several times since he had been back was, “I know it probably seems pretty shitty, that I didn’t sign up to serve, after all of you… I just… I know it probably sounds like an excuse, but I was really worried Dad might not be able to find anything, and Samarie should be focusing on school… I guess I coulda sent money back, but…”

His sister was one of the low-key scariest people Marcoh knew. But she was still just a kid at the end of the day, or had been until recently. And Marcoh would have sooner eaten a bullet then heard she had ended up on the street while he had run off. Marcoh had no idea if his father still had any funds from back in his ‘glory’ days, but he knew his father complained and grumbled about losing the rights to the building constantly, and while Marcoh wasn’t allowed to look at the books, he suspected all the ink would be in red. 

Someone had to stay and put food on the table. Still felt like shit though, watching everyone else head out to braver or better things.

Daan nodded, eye going lidded at the mention of Pav. As much as the younger Crime put the theatrics on as much as he did for literally everything…every look Daan managed to get of the wound across his chest? Said to him that only a little deeper or in a slightly different angle, Pav’s homecoming would’ve been in a casket. 

And yet, he still wasn’t sure what exactly was up with Pav’s shoulder, if anything. There was only so much Daan even wanted to observe, knowing Pav likely had a currently practicing doctor to check in with, to risk Pav’s sort-of-wrath in teasing that Daan wanted to get into his bed soooooo bad.

It wasn’t like their marine corp was something people signed up for expecting to die. But it still sure wasn’t safe. So…

Daan raised his eyebrows a bit, looking at Marcoh in mild surprise. “I’d think that watching us run off to get our heads cut off would’ve given you more reason to stick closer to home. Someone needed to end up the sane one.” He smirked a little. “And your sister would have that much more free reign to sneak into Marina’s room every night otherwise. You’re doing the world a service just being where you are, Marcoh.”

He knew he hadn’t answered about his eye. The other things just seemed more pressing to address. 

Regarding Marcoh for a long moment, Daan gave him a smirk. “...you wanna see it?”

The lines beneath Marcoh’s eyes deepened. He sure had needed to intervene a few times to stop Sam from breaking into the Wizard girl’s room. And he had failed too many times for his own comfort. He knew it was just a, uh, crush, he guessed, but man, Samarie was not winning any favors in how she was pursuing it. 

Marcoh’s eyes widened slightly at what Daan was offering… before awkwardly shrugging. A morbid curiosity getting to him. “Yeah, alright.”

Entirely amused, Daan lifted his eyepatch, setting it down on his folders. 

Already his face told a grisly story. Keeping in mind that he had been on the mend for a while, while there wasn’t any red or purplish swelling around his eyelid anymore, there was still a neat set of stitches down the center of his eyelid, a pink scarring line just barely poking into the top of his socket and over his bottom eyelid. 

But then Daan gently lifted his eyelid and revealed a ball of tightly knit bandaging in his socket where an eye would otherwise be. 

It looked slightly damp, staining with faint yellows and reds. 

Marcoh’s stomach rolled with horror, even as he deadpanned, “That’s pretty bad.”

“Does it, uh…” Marcoh frowned, trying not to imagine all the ways that could have happened. He had lost his literal, actual eye… “does it still hurt?”

Daan couldn’t help huffing a quiet laugh as he let his eyelid fall back closed and grabbed his eyepatch to put back on. “Constantly, though it’s much better. I somehow managed to skate by picking up a morphine addiction in the early days, and I’m definitely taking lower doses now. One of the endgoals, I’m told, is potentially getting a false eye or placeholder for the socket, but I have to wait for the surrounding tissue to heal, so I get to have a surprise treat of almost every liquid a body can produce tucked away in my head for now.”

Taking another sip of his coffee, Daan gave Marcoh an amused look. “So, yeah. It’s pretty bad. I think I’m starting to get the idea most of you think I still have my eye, huh?”

“Dunno what the others think. Guess I just hoped it wasn’t permanent,” Marcoh admitted, though he hadn’t recognized that was how he felt about it until just now. He knew placing them in categories of ‘best’ to ‘worst’ was playing into the hands of their parents, but… Daan had always been one of the best of them, everyone who had grown up at Red Grove together. Kind when he didn’t have to be. Fun when he wanted to be. He had wrapped more than his fair shares of cuts and bruises Marcoh and Pav would just, uh, have. Sometimes. Not to mention the burns and infections the Wizard kids had gotten a lot. Daan had been reliable, even when they were kids, and it sucked to see something like this happen to someone like him–

“The gods lie often, but my intuition seemed correct: I would find good company here~” 

Marcoh blinked, looking over the counter just ever so slightly to his left… and was absolutely shocked as he deadpan said, “Oh. O’saa.”

“Oh, Marcoh.” O’saa smiled, laughing a little when Marcoh could only hold eye contact with his bright, beaming smile for a moment before shyly looking down. “Come on, I’ve been warning you I’m going to come check out the new coffee place! And I felt a gut instinct that today was the day to do it! Well, that and your good father Cahara told me where to find you, Daan! Come here, give me a hug! It has been too long, old friend!” O’saa said cheerfully, heading over to Dan with his arms opened wide.

“Vision loss is almost guaranteed through age,” Daan shrugged, “I’m just getting a head start on everyone.”

It was easier to joke about it. Losing an eye was going to alter most facets of his life, would literally rewire his brain, but…like, so what? He was part of that unbelievable statistic he’d just mentioned to Marcoh--he was alive. For all the changes forced upon him, he’d just have to change with them. 

…for…all of them. 

“O’saa.” Daan regarded the prodigal Wizard curiously for a moment, internally sighing about Cahara spreading his plans around. Dad probably thought it was funny. And while a hug was most likely going to land him with a ‘kick me’ sign on his back, Daan gamely stood and walked over to give O’saa a hug. 

Just because there were undoubtedly ulterior motives didn’t mean it hadn’t been a while. 

“Been hard at work talking to bones?”

O’saa did not place a kick me sign on Daan’s back. But he did wrap his arms low into Daan’s back, hugging him tightly and picking him up, shaking him back and forth, and then pointedly not putting him back down as he leaned his head back, smirking up at Daan. “Oh, I am well past whispering to bones, my good Daan. But forget that! You have been away to battle, and returned to us victorious! Come, Marcoh! A round for the house, on me!”

“I only have coffee,” Marcoh said, “Daan already has a cup of coffee.”

“Then a coffee for me! The strongest you have!” O’saa grinned, shifting Daan onto his hip as he reached for one of the folders, “Noooo, don’t tell me you’re already hard at work? You’ve only just gotten back from war, my friend! You should be resting a warrior’s rest! Side by side with warm cozy bodies, feeding you grapes and asking to hear about your scars!”

Ah.

He saw.

He didn’t go completely boneless, but Daan became unhelpfully limp like an unamused cat, simply accepting, if resigned, to his fate a few inches off the ground. Man he wished he didn’t have the standards of not smoking at Marcoh’s work. 

“I returned alive, which is a sort of victory, but I think the overview would demand a more concrete one than what exists,” Daan drawled dryly, hanging in the air. “And I am resting, looking at residency openings is about as stimulating as reading. For the fantasy you’re describing, really only the last point has any possibility of happening.”

A whisper of a smirk on his lips, he asked, “If you’re past bones, should I make use of blindness to turn one towards any news of graverobbing I’ll hear about?”

“Ooh! Oh! He’s become liquid,” O’saa said, clearly struggling more to hold Daan up, “I see your time away has not ruined your sense of humor. Excellent! But you are heavier, which is less than excellent.”

“...feeding you grapes?” Marcoh tried to follow, looking around uncertainly, “I think I have fruit packages, but I don’t know if I’d recommend them. They’re not ‘expired’, but they’re not… fresh. Either.”

“Pass me one of the fruit packages then, mon gentil géant. Perhaps I can appease our valiant hero here with offerings, so he will not ask any uncomfortable questions to the local graveyards,” O’saa said, sitting Daan down on top of the coffee counter, Marcoh only looking slightly put off by this as O’saa leaned against the counter, grinning up at Daan, “Come now, what do the dead care what they’ve left behind? It’s all recycling eventually. Return to the earth and what-not. Ah, to think it’s been years since I’ve seen you. And yet you haven’t aged a day!”

“It’s only been a few years,” Marcoh murmured, picking up one of the fruit packets that looked a little better then the others and passing it to O’saa, “That’ll be 8 copper.”

“Put it on my tab, you know I’m good for it.”

“We don’t do tabs here, it’s a coffee shop…”

“You know, I did a few rituals to ensure your health and wellbeing,” O’saa told Daan, “I’m quite annoyed it didn’t work very well. The gods are bastards.”

“I come back from war and he calls me fat. This is about the welcome I expected,” Daan muttered. He had meant the ‘asking about scars’ bit, considering just what he and Marcoh had been talking about, but that sort of clarification was useless in a verbal match against O’saa. The eccentric would take the pieces he wanted and twist them to his own vision. 

Likely what he was doing with whatever corpse parts he was procuring for whatever on earth he was studying, magic-wise. 

While O’saa might’ve said he hadn’t aged a day, the perpetual bags under Daan’s eyes deepened as he caved and pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, though he didn’t light it as he put it in his mouth. He simply rolled his eye, now perched on the counter, and set out the money for O’saa’s coffee.

“Don’t harass Marcoh’s work,” Daan gave his only warning before he shrugged, “I’m alive, aren’t I? Plenty of people can’t say the same. Maybe it does say something about the gods that they worked better for Karin than for me or Pav.”

“Or it’s all the luck of the draw,” he shrugged again, “Can just as easily get hurt at home, after all.”

“Ah, but luck is its own sort of magic. For instance, my luck with this fruit is proof of divine punishment, the gods striking me down for my blaspheme… Marcoh, these grapes are practically raisins,” O’saa said, looking through the packet.

“Yeah… sorry.” Marcoh said, “They come in like that.”

“Astounding. Here, I found one decent one,” O’saa said, picking out a relatively round grape, holding it up to Daan’s lips, “One grape, for one scar story? What happened to your eye, mon amour?”

Daan shifted the back of his cigarette with his tongue, tapping it against O’saa’s fingers reprimandingly. “Don’t need a trade for that.”

“The aid corps I went to Panem with had their own line of command, but since we were non-combatant aid, the group I was with followed the direction of a local doctor in Baghrir. He and his daughter had set up something of a base and makeshift hospital in their home, which they welcomed us into to work.” As Daan started the story, for however matter of fact his voice was, his gaze started to slip, growing unfocused in the memory. “Long story short, the hospital was attacked. Our priority was to evacuate the patients first, and any civilians around. I tried to cover an escape, and got a dagger through my eye.”

Daan’s gaze grew a little darker. “It was likely pure adrenaline ensuring I didn’t just drop from shock. It’s entirely possible to pierce through an eye socket directly into the brain which, without getting into all the different statistics, has a pretty damn high mortality rate.”

“When the survivors were able to reconvene, I was sent back with the next evacuation, honorably discharged for injury.”

“...that’s pretty rough,” Marcoh said deadpan, his stomach rolling with horror again, “Sorry to hear that.”

O’saa hummed, popping the grape into his own mouth, before his nose scrunched reflexively. “Your tale is almost as tragic as that grape. So, you gave aid, fought bravely, and lost your eye for your troubles. I am sure there are plenty of wounded people who were grateful you stayed to do so.”

“And now! You return home. I cannot decide if that is a blessing or a tragedy in its own right. Though, I’m sure your father and sister are thrilled,” O’saa said, backing up to stop boxing Daan into the counter. 

“Girl got really excited every time you sent her something. She’d go around the whole building and show it off,” Marcoh told Daan, “She’s not very expressive, but I know she’s happy.”

“Well, you’d know, one somber face to another?” O’saa smirked at Marcoh.

“‘M not that unexpressive,” Marcoh muttered, ducking his head fitfully.

“That was the aim,” Daan said without much inflection, shrugging a bit. A doctor couldn’t save everyone, but the aim was to give enough help that there were more people able to reflect back on things than there might otherwise be. And that’s what he’d done.

(you can’t save everyone you can’t save everyone you can’t save everyone you can’t)

Daan let go of a little breath as O’saa backed up, and a small but genuine smile graced his lips at the news Marcoh gave. “Yeah? I’m pretty sure I got the picture she’s happy I’m back, but I’m glad she liked the gifts.”

She had Moonless, of course, but Daan couldn’t help but worry his little sister was lonely sometimes. Marina, Levi, and even Samarie had been the types of kids to let a younger kid play with them, but the gap seemed more pronounced as they’d all gotten older. While gifts weren’t a replacement for actually being there, Daan had hoped that, along with just the gifts themselves, they were reminders that somewhere far away Girl’s big brother was thinking about her.

(Elise had gotten so excited to pick things out, asking Daan more questions than he could keep up with about what Girl liked. Said she had always wanted a little sister.)

His gaze going a little distant again, Daan rolled his cigarette with his tongue. “Maybe we should just be more literate, than asking people to be more expressive.”

“Haven’t gotten over your soft spot for our quiet Marcoh, hm? Come now, he’s not a boy anymore! None of us are,” O’saa said, smiling warmly at Marcoh, who suddenly found the cash register fascinating, “You and Olivia always went too easy on him. You’re up to joking around with the rest of us, yes, Marcoh?”

“...yeah.” Marcoh said.

“Karin being back will be good for you, chose douce. She’ll put some fire back in your veins!” O’saa predicted, “And that might put that pig father of yours back on his toes.”

Marcoh didn’t come to his father’s defense. O’saa smiled warmly at him again, before focusing on Daan. “Well, my good friend, let me leave you to your folders. Now that you’ve returned, we will have plenty of chances to catch up. It truly is good to see you. It is good to see all of you… even Pav. A little,” O’saa smiled, “...a smidge. But especially you.”

“Haven’t gotten over polishing the jester’s crown either, I see. There’s only so much you leave in childhood,” Daan apathetically shot back. It wasn’t even necessarily to Marcoh’s defense; O’saa was just a menace if left unchallenged. And sometimes that turned him into an even bigger menace, but as he wished for Caligura, it seemed that O’saa wanted everyone on their toes. 

Letting go of a breath, Daan finally slid off the counter to head back to his coffee and folders. “Oh goodie, I’m the favorite. I’m so happy about that. Good to see you too, O’saa. It’s always nice seeing that the basement hasn’t eaten you alive yet.”

“Not for lack of trying! Every day an adventure! Goodbye, my friends! Je t'aime!”

“...he’s gotten really into adding in words from other languages lately,” Marcoh said as he watched O’saa disappear, “Always needs to be different…”

Taking a long drink of coffee, Daan hummed, “Oh, that’s good, I thought he’d just developed a verbal tic that happened to resemble language. Wasn’t sure what to think about what that said about his mental state.”

In some ways, O’saa seemed like the whirlwind he always was. In others…

Daan slid a look over to Marcoh, a bit of worry coloring him. “...things have been alright at home while I was gone, right?”

Marcoh glanced away uneasily. “...look, Dad hasn’t knocked me around in ages. ‘M too big for it these days, I think. And it’s always been different for Sam. ‘S fine. More worried for the Wizard kids these days, really. Levi’s gettin’... worse.”

Daan frowned more. 

Levi had been skittish and apologetic while he’d dressed his burns the other day, and it had been about what Daan expected for the situation. Levi and Marina had done something that basically had the whole duplex on deck, there’d been a government official chatting around, he’d been in physical distress--it’d made sense. 

“Worse how?”

“...” Marcoh huffed, glancing at the front door like he was worried someone might make the insane choice to suddenly step in, before shoving his hands into his pockets and whispering, “Pretty sure the kid’s on something. Can’t tell if it’s something he’s putting on himself or if that loony old man of his is finally going too far, trying to jumpstart that magic energy shit they’re always hinting about. Levi still doesn’t have a damn magical bone in his body, I don’t think. Not for lack of trying. Think the whole family’s getting desperate about it, now that he’s gettin’ older.”

“...but that’s just what it looks like,” Marcoh shrugged, scuffing the floor, “Who knows what’s actually happening down there. Just the impression I’m getting. The pressure’s rising and Levi’s taking something to help. All the ups and downs of that.”

The frown was becoming an outright glower, as Daan didn’t quite drink from his mug as press it firmly against his lower jaw. 

If Levi was taking something of his own volition, Daan wouldn’t have much success trying to get him off it. Even putting aside the whole mess of Enki trying to draw out his magical potential, it had always seemed like the world was overwhelming to Levi. Daan had had the thought of bringing up options for anti-anxiety medication, but…well, he’d just been a kid, then going through medical school, then off to Panem, and it wasn’t like he’d specialized in psychiatric medicine in the first place. 

Nor the sort of silver tongue that would convince Enki to seek out a professional for his son. 

And if it was something being forced upon him? No chance. 

“...I should follow up on the burns he got from that experiment,” Daan decided after a few moments, finally taking a proper sip, “May not lead to anything, but at least I’ll have tried.”

“Couldn’t hurt nothin’,” Marcoh agreed, failing to pick up on Daan’s implications, “Maybe ask him about it when you do? Not saying you should butt in or nothin’, but, well, you did become an actual doctor… might be able to help?”

“...” Daan glanced down with a small smile before looking back up at Marcoh.

“I think I will, that’s a good idea. He may not want to talk about it to me, but it never hurts to remind him the resource he has just outside his doorstep.” Glancing at his folders, Daan released a thin sigh. “...even if going to a currently practicing doctor is better for…liability, and all that.”

“Don’ let me distract you then. I’ve got mugs I need to polish the dust off of anyway. You want another cuppa vanilla?” Marcoh asked, heading back to the counter.

“I’m alright, thank you, Marcoh.” Daan gave his friend a nod before turning back to his folders. 

It was worse that he needed to check in if a teenager was developing a drug problem. …but there was a part of Daan that was happy to have something to do. He needed something, even if it was looking over clinics and residency openings months before they’d be relevant, over which time all this information would be outdated. Just something that wasn’t…

Wow, you’re pretty terrible, huh? Wishing problems on the people around you, just to feel a little better about yourself? People die from those, you know~ You want everyone to die, Daan?

Why don’t you kill yourself first?

Daan shifted the papers to get them into focus, putting his full concentration into them. 

-

Levi was fitfully picking the grime out of his fingernails as he listened to his sister and his father have ‘Not an argument’ in the other room.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying. They were behind a wall and a door and were talking in normal volume. But he had heard enough of their ‘curt discussions’ to know generally what they were saying. Especially after yesterday. 

“Dad, I think you just need to admit to being an idiot and that the Levi situation isn’t going to ‘magically’, heh, get better,” he could picture his sister saying, a lightness and playfulness to her words that didn’t betray her actual frustration with having this conversation again.

“Not at all,” his father would say dismissively, “Levi is a Wizard-man through and through, it’s innate in all of us, his abilities. His time with that female simply stunted his growth, but late blooming is an expected part of the process for some. He’ll join us in his proper place soon enough.”

Levi picked at the skin worryingly, as he imagined his sister saying dryly, “If his ‘place’ is a graveyard already half dug up by O’saa? Then yeah. We’re well on our way there. Cause something is going to kill him sooner or later–”

Levi didn’t want to imagine the words anymore.

He needed to feel better…

But he was trying to quit, was the issue. Trying and failing. Trying and failing and failing and failing and–he’d need to go see his dealer.

One more hit and then he’d quit for real next time. For real, for real.

Just something to make the shakes stop. 

Levi headed upstairs, biting down the urge to let someone know he was leaving. He was 18, he was allowed to leave by himself, he wasn’t a child anymore… 

“It’s a damn fire hazard, I’ll tell ya, not brain fuel! But what am I supposed to say, ‘Hey Bossman, stop losing your marbles!’? Feel like his folks would’ve done that ages ago if it were that easy, catch ‘em all the time comin’ by after his shifts to get ‘im to actually leave the underground - oh, hey Levi!”

Abella, covered in grease, oil, and dirt and not caring the slightest about it as she slung an arm over Daan’s shoulders and whapped him on the back repeatedly, gave Levi a wave as she and Daan walked across the lobby. 

While he swayed a bit from her jostling, Daan didn’t look all that put out, though his attention did snap to the teen as Abella called him out. “Ah, Levi. Are you about to head out? I was hoping to speak to you later, but it can wait if you had plans.”

Ideally it couldn’t wait, but trapping Levi down somewhere would make it all the more impossible to carry a conversation with him without Levi shutting down from anxiety. 

“Ah…” Levi winced, his gaze briefly seeing their faces before hovering down near their stomachs, fighting a damn near impulse to literally bolt for it. Relax, relax, relax– “...kinda busy, yeah…”

But it was hard to just turn Daan down entirely, because it had been a long time since Levi had spent any sort of time with the guy. Daan had been one of the older kids always spending time with O’saa, and it was hard not to look up to him the way Levi had sort of looked up to all the older kids in the building growing up. Even as Levi was becoming an adult himself, it was hard not to look at Abella and Daan as very impressive, near mythical figures that Levi desperately wanted to impress.

So fighting his desire to run, Levi twitched. “...did you need something?”

“I was hoping to check in with you about your burns. As far as I could tell, even with an unusual cause, they did act like standard burns, but it can’t hurt to be thorough making sure there aren’t unexpected effects.” Daan gave Levi a small nod, and noting that he wasn’t looking high enough to catch that, he gestured slightly with a hand. “If they aren’t still hurting you, though, it can wait for a better time.”

“Rammin’ ‘rem, you’re as bad as Karin, turning work-brain off,” Abella sighed, before she gave one last definitely-making-a-handprint slap to Daan’s back, strong enough to make a sound. “Alright, I’ll letcha have a confidential check-up, I’m off to shower. Catch you two later!”

“Bye Abella,” Levi said, though he said it so low and under his breath that it sounded a bit more like “brmma.”

Levi was about to assure Daan that he didn’t need any help with his burns, they were barely burns, it was fine, he had to go–

“Ah, Daan, Levi. Are you two catching up then?”

Levi glanced up at Cahara briefly, before staring at the floor. “.....yes.”

Cahara smiled. Giving his son a warm look.

Cahara had the sort of effortless beauty that one had when they had spent their whole life carefully learning how to be beautiful, to the point that once they were ‘done’ doing that, even the bare minimum effort they put into it still made them look stunningly enchanting. He had aged a bit since his days as a professional plaything to rich, older couples, and in his age he now wore more comfortable clothes: loose-fitting cashmere sweaters, plain, long-sleeved V-necks oversized to the point he swam in them. Toned but no longer muscular. Graceful but no longer flexible. Even his hair, silver and flowing in a way that feminized his strong cheekbones and still square chin, had started to thin, only glowing rather than luminescent. 

It didn’t matter. Cahara was a beautiful man and would likely make a beautiful corpse someday. Beauty was his greatest skill and natural gift. It would always be the first and most notable thing about him.

The fact that he was a bit of a dork was reserved for people who knew him well, as Cahara reached up to his son’s face and twisted his index fingers’ knuckles slightly into where, theoretically, dimples would be on his cheeks as he cooed, “Awww, is my boy playing doctor with the little kids again? So cute~”

In the tales of old, their land’s gods could eclipse towns and bathe all the eye could see in holy retribution. The reborn Kyurem, though Daan didn’t know for sure, described as an infant likely wouldn’t soar down from the capital and catch everyone in worlds of their own making. He could still hope. 

Dad wanted to make sure he was socializing. 

Daan gave his father a flat look, tilting his head away from Cahara’s cooing. “I’m a licensed medical professional. There’s no reason for anyone here not to take advantage of that fact rather than go wait for an opening at a clinic.”

Recalling what O’saa had said earlier--and what drove his suspicions towards Cahara doing some scheming to ensure Daan was talking to people, which he did plenty of on his own, Dad--Daan gave Cahara a cool look. “Catching up with people yourself, today?”

Cahara’s smile was warm and pleasant and perfectly designed to give nothing away as he affectionately patted his son’s shoulders, before looking pleasantly at Levi–pointedly not answering–as he said, “Are you going to let Daan help you with whatever ouchie you have, Levi?”

“.......” Levi opened his mouth.

“Good! Oh, hold on, hold on…” Cahara patted his sides, pouting for a moment, before patting his chest, and then digging into his sweater with a triumphant little sound. Pulling out some money and handing it to Daan. “Here, go get, I don’t know, ice cream or something. Levi, you’ll go get ice cream, right?”

Levi opened his mouth.

“That’s good, lovely to hear,” Cahara said dreamily, patting his son’s arm again, before heading off to where he had been going in the first place, aiming for the back doors to go sit on the patio. 

Looking up, Daan took a deep breath and held it for a few moments, before measuredly letting it out, glancing down at himself. He hadn’t really cared about Abella getting ‘engineer paint’ over him as he walked with her from the underground station, but…

…well, he couldn’t really bring himself to care now either. 

“Don’t let him bully you,” Daan more softly said to Levi, before he shrugged. “I can walk you where you’re going, and we can talk on the way?” He sighed, resigned. “Maybe get ice cream.”

…by the time they were, he didn’t know, out, Girl might be heading home from school. He could pick up an extra ice cream for her.

Levi tried to say he wasn’t being bullied and that he was fine and that they didn’t have to get ice cream and that he could get ice cream and also he should go soon. But he said that all at once and it came out an incoherent murmuring mess, until finally giving up he just nodded, because that felt easiest.

As the two walked out of the house, Levi stared fixedly at the ground. “.......... I don’t mind your dad. He’s nice.”

Daan sighed and pulled out a cigarette, though with a glance at Levi he left it unlit. “He’s nice,” he agreed easily, before his eye lidded, “He’ll be nice all the way to getting whatever he’s got his sights set on, and you’ll be commenting how pleasant he is all the while. I’m not saying he’s nefarious, but he absolutely steam-rolls more easy-going personalities without any regard.”

He tapped the end of his cigarette with his tongue and let out a sigh. “...sorry, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. How have your hands been doing? Tightness, stinging, redness, any skin flaking?”

Levi couldn’t argue that. Partly because he had known the man for years and, yeah, he had a way of dancing through conversations that ended with him having what he wanted, but also because his own father bitterly complained about Cahara often. His father didn’t seem fond of any of the other building families, but he seemed to have some specific grudge against Cahara that often left Levi feeling like his father had been offended at some point by him and had never really let it go.

That made Cahara an intimidating person, if nothing else did. Levi would be terrified to make an enemy out of his dad.

Levi looked down at his hands, flexing them carefully as he felt the stiffness in his skin… and uncertainly put them both under his armpits as he crossed his arms, trying to hide the shaking. “...it’s a little stiff. But I’m okay. Thank you again for treating them. I shouldn’t have put my hands in the spell, but a component had fallen inside that would have made it even stronger… I was worried the building would blow up.”

Daan glanced at Levi from the corner of his eye--even if Levi resolutely wasn’t looking up at him, he still didn’t want to make the teen uncomfortable being stared at--and his expression softened. 

“Would be pretty rough, having to find a new place to live. Thanks for considering us.” Pausing for a few moments, Daan considered his words. “...I’m always happy to treat or take a look at something for you guys. I know I’m not infallible, and there’s plenty I’d just tell people to go to a hospital or clinic for, if just for the supplies available, but it makes me happy, knowing I can be a reliable person to check in with when it comes to health concerns.”

Daan tried to soften his voice more. He didn’t think he was a generally abrasive person, but drawling sarcasm wasn’t always the most tactful way to have genuine conversations. “If you’re fine with the stiffness, if your burns aren’t causing you pain or bothering you, Levi, I’m not going to chase after you with salve and bandages.”

He paused again, taking out his cigarette to roll between his fingers in thought. “You’ve always been an intuitive one, so maybe you already know, but I think there’s a misconception about medicine a lot of people have. It’s not necessarily about ‘curing’ issues. It’s nice when you can, and I truly wish there was a way to cure more, but the basis of healing is more about comfort. What you can do to give someone the best quality of life they can have. Sometimes that does mean serious surgeries and medicine schedules with awful side effects, if it’s something that can save someone’s life and ensure that they won’t be ailing anymore.”

Daan glanced to Levi for a quick moment, before looking at the cig between his fingers. “Sometimes it’s offering something that can just dull pain, because it won’t go away, or the trials of trying curative options won’t give that person any comfort. Really, it’s up to the patient. Doctors can interpret symptoms, can know what treatments are out there, but a person’s life is their own, to choose to live it as they think best. But there’s almost always an option out there to mitigate or relieve pain. And more to make sure those methods are as safe as possible.”

“That make sense?”

Levi thought to the cocaine he regularly took. When he had first started, he had done it because of an off-hand thing his father had said when Levi was 13, that perhaps certain supplements would awaken Levi’s lingering abilities. O’saa had basically shut down his father’s musings about cocaine itself, and his father, still convinced really it was just going to take time, hadn’t brought it up again.

But Levi had decided to go for it, because by that point he was willing to try anything, to get better. To be what his family wanted him to be.

And, in a way… it had worked. Or, it had helped. Not giving Levi his magical abilities, that still was dormant. But it had made Levi feel more awake. More alive. He couldn’t give the spells they made the magical energy they needed, but he was able to read scroll after scroll after scroll, and after days of reading it all still made sense to him. He had been able to keep up with O’saa’s energy and make jokes with Marina. He had been able to answer his father’s questions and sometimes even look him in the eyes when he did so.

Levi on cocaine felt like… a real, actual person. Rather than the shrinking, frightened shadow that walked among the house when he was just… himself again.

But the issue was, that even with the cocaine, things were still getting harder, and it had been happening like that for years now. The burst of joyful energy was getting shorter and shorter, the falls harder and longer. Levi almost didn’t want to quit because quitting might stop the night terrors or the shaking or the way his body felt like it was melting inside of his bones… he wanted to quit so that whatever resistance he had gotten would ease, and when he started taking it all again, he’d feel the way it had felt when he was young. Like he was alive and vibrant. Like he could do anything.

Maybe there was something out there that could help him with the withdrawals from the drugs. The symptoms. Daan could probably help with that, if Levi asked.

But Levi was worried that nothing was going to save him from what he felt like was his biggest obstacle, which was just that he was… Levi. And that once the cocaine was gone and he was ‘healed’, he’d still be left stuck with himself. With nothing to make up for all the miserable ways that being Levi made him feel. A failure to his family. Unable to exist around other people. And no ideas of what he even wanted for himself, outside of all the things he couldn’t be for them.

It was… hard. And Levi had no idea how to communicate that to anyone. Just floundering for a moment as he talked to Daan, trying to think of something coherent to say back… before he just nodded. Lost for words.

…that was about as much as he could expect, huh. It wasn’t like this conversation was it, like Daan could just dust his hands and say he’d tried…

…but he’d tried. And while he could encourage Levi to think about it, Daan couldn’t exactly force him into a rehab center. 

Sighing through his nose, Daan conceded, “Alri--”

And ran right into a streetlight pole that had been slightly on his left side. 

A completely startled, “Prrp!” leaving him as he staggered back for a moment, entirely off guard.

“Ah!” Levi gasped, floundering in worried startlement as he watched Daan just kinda headbutt?? A pole?? “A-are you okay!?” he asked, reaching out to offer to steady him if Daan fell.

“Fuckin’...!” Daan turned his head slightly, watching as the pole finally came into view. And as he steadied, he let out a breath. “...right.”

Rubbing his head lightly, Daan offered Levi a small, embarrassed smile. “I’m good, still not totally used to working with half-vision, apparently. Didn’t want to put you in my blindspot as we walked, but I forgot that means I can’t see what’s coming on the outside.”

“You mind if we swap places for the rest?” he asked with a small amount of sheepishness.

Levi nodded fretfully, before hurrying to Daan’s other side, moving quickly, like there was a time limit until Daan brained himself on another pole. Even settling into Daan’s other side, Levi gave Daan a worried look, his expression suggesting Daan might fall over any minute. “...does your head hurt?”

…it was more unsettling having Levi talk where he couldn’t see him. Immediately Daan felt himself wanting to turn his head enough to see, but he knew walking with his head practically sideways was just asking to destroy his balance. 

Ugh. 

“Yeah,” he said truthfully, “but some of that’s not from walking into that pole. I’ll probably take my next round of painkillers when I get back to Red Grove.”

Daan snorted lightly. “Some wise words, Levi, if you can help it, try not to get a life-threatening injury. It kinda sucks.”

Levi nodded obediently–don’t get a life threatening injury, got it–before warily looking at the other man’s knees. “...how did…?”

“Everyone’s curious, hm?” Daan murmured, more to himself than making a comment to Levi, before speaking more clearly. “Dagger through my eye. I can’t say I know exactly what position I’m speaking from, considering Karin, Pav, and I all ran off into battlezones, but I am glad that you, Marina, and Samarie didn’t do the same as soon as your birthdays rolled around. And not just because it’s nice to see you all again.”

“...” Levi winced at Daan’s explanation. A dagger… that was bad. “...I thought about it. Even told Marina I was going to…”

Levi shrugged, staring at his feet. “She told me I’d die in bootcamp. I can’t even take care of myself out here, how could I possibly survive leaving? I don’t know… I still thought about it. But she’s probably right. I don’t think I’d handle what you did…”

A part of him, when he had first decided to do it, had hoped that going out and joining might make him the type of person who could… but Marina had been persuasive. Levi was just being delusional. Still looking for some ‘quick fix’ to himself, like the cocaine. Only the cocaine didn’t suddenly try to stab you with a blade a continent away.

“...pff.”

Daan covered his light laugh with a hand, shoulders bouncing. “Harsh. But very, very Marina. I can’t blame her wanting her little brother safer and closer at hand, though--very hands-on person, your sister.”

“I don’t want you to handle what I did,” Daan prefaced bluntly, “But I think it’s a bit fear-mongering to say you couldn’t. If there’s anything I could call in war a learning experience, it’s that people can survive much, much more than they think they’re capable of. And not to sound overly flattering, but I think you really sell yourself short in general, Levi.”

“...still.” Daan even made the effort to turn his head enough to look at Levi. “I’m definitely not encouraging you to sign up for a tour in Panem.”

“....yeah, I don’t think I should,” Levi agreed, warily glancing up at Daan’s eye patch before looking back down at the road, rubbing his arm, “....thanks though…”

Levi glanced down an alley they were passing. His dealer wasn’t in that alley, of course, but it was the quickest path to a bar that he did spend a lot of time in… “...I uh…I actually had something I was supposed to be doing…”

Daan huffed an amused sound through his nose. “Forgive the slander, but I did figure you weren’t just heading out to take a walk. Take care, Levi.” Giving the teen a nod, Daan figured he’d just keep going straight, wandering until he found someplace suitable for an afternoon snack to bribe his sister with. 

…and he’d hope that some of his words would stick with Levi. And if there was something going on, he’d summon the courage to reach out for help. 

-

The issue was. They had no idea how their emotions tasted. Sure, sure, they’d gotten a few comments before, but it hadn’t exactly been during clear emotions, and maybe that was some of the point, BUT! If they were going to put their emotions into food purposefully, as healthy, controlled venting sessions, then they could choose which emotions to channel. 

Which meant specific tastes. Which they needed to know. 

So Dr. Mariah’s offer to be a guinea pig was likely something they’d take up. 

Leaning against his kitchen counter, Lauriam lightly pinched his lower lip, eyebrows scrunched in thought as he read over some recipes in the cookbook he’d checked out from the library. Look, he knew how to cook. …some things. Good, hearty survival food, stuff that he could throw together with whatever food was at hand. 

…not…really the kinds of things that people bought from a stall. And he guessed the oni couldn’t be too picky, since it was survival food for some of them, but… That was kinda shitty. To make the bare minimum of food just because it was in his comfort zone. 

Lauriam sighed, and propped the book up against the wall, starting to get bowls out. He knew how to make bread, and this bun recipe didn’t seem difficult. And that would let him experiment with flavor combinations. 

{Hey, don’t get too down yet--we haven’t started that part~}

“Oh shut it… It’ll get easier the more we do it.”

Kaito was not a kidnapper! 

He just kidnapped people, sometimes. 

Welllllll, ‘kidnapping’ was mostly a joke. Haha, funny, Kaito ‘abducts’ people and sort of ‘brings them along to things’ against maybe their ‘knowledge or will’. Of course he didn’t really do those things. Not like… not explicitly. There was wiggle room to what he did! It was mostly persuasion! By force! Sometimes through kidnapping!

Anyway, Kaito had asked Elia if she wanted to go get a meal with him and then had led her by the hand across the city straight to Lauriam and Marluxia’s apartment, still holding her hand tightly as he knocked on the door enthusiastically, “HEY! HEY! HEY! ANYONE HOME!?”

There was a terrible clatter, and Elia gave the door a concerned look. She already had reservations about Kaito taking her to an apartment when he’d asked to get food, but given the acrid flash of fear from behind the door, she had the sinking feeling she’d been duped, since whoever’s home this was clearly wasn’t expecting anyone. 

After a few moments, an unamused green eye peeked through the door, opened just enough to strain the chain lock. 

“It was a horrible, horrible mistake, learning our address,” Marluxia drawled, giving Kaito and Elia a glance (sending calming messages to Lauriam, confirming that, yes, that was actually Kaito who’d shouted), “La-La actually managed to grab a knife before trying to hunker down in a defensive position.”

“What do you want,” he asked dryly. 

“Hey, it was Marluxia, right?” Elia gave him a nod, smiling sheepishly. “My bad, I think I accidentally enabled the big guy here to come over. Sorry about that, we’ll head out to not harass people in their homes,” she said pointedly, giving Kaito’s arm a tap.

“Noooooooo, enable me more! I heard they were learning to cook new stuff today! I figured we’d volunteer to be taste testers!” Kaito grinned, looking to Marluxia, “What’s a good meal tried without sharing it with good friends!? New friends! Meet Elia! She’s great! Elia, you’re great, and you should be friends!”

Marluxia snorted derisively. “We’re not a charity, even without all that paperwork your husband mentioned. Plus…” He looked Elia over for a moment. “You’re the wrong kind, right? Happy emotions, not negative ones.”

Elia’s eyes widened slightly, and in many, many cases, in many worlds, the charming, yet confused smile on her face would’ve been absolutely convincing. “Sorry, what? Not quite following that.”

Sighing, Marluxia waved his hand a little. “We know about, like, oni, or whatever, angel stuff. You ate Kaito’s ‘complex emotion’ pie and flipped before, that whole thing.”

Elia sent a suddenly incredibly wary glance to Kaito. “...ah, so…so…--”

“Wait, you made a pie like that on purpose?!” she incredulously gaped, before her eyes narrowed. “Mr. Cendril…”

Kaito grinned wider, letting go of Elia’s hands and placing them behind his back, the only sign of his absolute nerves right now being the small beads of sweat at his temple and hairline as he paused for a moment… before saying earnestly, “See!? Friends. Friends who know things about each other! Like we do!”

“....by the way, Elia, we kiiiinda need to have a conversation about stuff,” Kaito grinned, before saying cheerfully, “over food!”

“No kidding,” she grumbled, before she gave an apologetic nod to Marluxia and grabbed Kaito’s arm, pulling him to the end of the covered walkway. 

Marluxia just rolled his eyes and shut the door, locking it again. Ridiculous. 

Away from an audience, Elia still kept her voice low as she gave Kaito a worried and…honestly kind of hurt look. “Maki knows?”

“Nooooooooo, fun coooooking tiiiiiimes,” Kaito whined as Elia led him away. Darn! His carefully laid plans! Foiled!

Though, at the look Elia gave him… Kaito shook his head, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “No? Nope. I know I probably should have, but it didn’t feel… urgent? And also I still don’t entirely understand your situation anyway. I could tell her you’re something called an ‘angel’, but then she’d ask me what that is and I’d just, like… shrug at her.” Kaito explained, “I heard from Marluxia back there what you were, but he didn’t really explain it much. I figured introducing you both was an easy way to kind of get everyone on the same page. If ‘everyone’ was the four of us specifically, anyway.”

Elia let out a slow breath, shoulders falling as she closed her eyes for a moment. 

“...I don’t want to hide things from her, Kaito,” she said softly, giving the prince, someone irreplaceable in her girlfriend’s life a plaintive look, “I never meant for it to be like I’m hiding this big thing, stringing her along… The way you’re talking about it is casual, so I get the idea that talking to her about more secretive things in the world isn’t going to come as some huge shock, but…”

“...please let me tell her,” Elia asked. “It’s complicated. And nothing changes between us because of it, I’m still the person I’ve always been. I know that doesn’t matter, that keeping something like this to myself is still like a facade, but I want to speak for myself to her. Not have her hear it from someone else first.”

Looking a bit hangdog already, just at the prospect at what was likely to be a very difficult conversation with her girlfriend, Elia glanced to Marluxia’s door. “...four of us? Don’t think I’ve met that ‘La-La’ guy, if that’s what you mean. And, uh…” she gave Kaito a sheepish grin, “It doesn’t really sound like Marluxia wants you here.”

“Yeah, you can tell her. I’m not planning to.” Kaito grinned, “I love Maki, and I owe her a lot of things. But the truth isn’t one of them. I love keeping secrets from Maki. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

“That said, I do feel more comfortable doing that because I’ve had a lot of biases erased in the last year about, uh… ‘oni’,” Kaito admitted, “And I don’t think you’re hurting her. Even if you’re actively feeding on her, that doesn’t seem to be a particularly big deal for humans. Atua knows Maki and I especially have plenty of big emotions to eat, so that works out. Especially ‘happy’ emotions? Great! I love that Maki’s girlfriend has many reasons to want her happy! Love that for her!”

“And yeah, I knew he wouldn’t,” Kaito admitted, glancing over his shoulder down at the apartment door, “Sometimes I can get around that sort of thing, the ‘not invited’ and ‘not desired’ and ‘actually I hate you though’ sorta stuff. Figured I’d try my luck today. He’s doing something pretty interesting in there and I’m very curious to see how it turns out. And also just thought it’d be fun to get to know him a bit more. I’m a masochist. It’s related.”

Elia supposed she couldn’t complain too much, when that, er, quirk of their relationship was the thing allowing Elia to confess to Maki before the cat was out of the bag. Maybe it sounded worse that she’d hoped to never tell Maki at all…but Elia genuinely believed that it would’ve never come up. Just went to show her, underestimating just how interconnected the world could really be. 

(She didn’t…believe that this would be a relationship-ender. As far as she knew, Maki didn’t have particularly big hang-ups around secrets [though maybe she did when they pertained to Kaito], and while it was shitty to hide things from your partner, they meant too much to each other to not have at least a conversation about it. 

But it was still fucking scary, dude!! Elia really liked Maki!)

“I’m not hurting her,” Elia quickly confirmed, before grinning hesitantly, “Like I said, it’s complicated. But you’re right that I have a lot of reasons to want her happy, though most of them really just are that she’s a person I care about.”

Giving the door down the way another look, Elia sighed and shook her head a little. “I appreciate if you were trying to set me up with a connection, but if you were that curious about what he’s doing, and…it sounds like it’s with negative emotions? Bringing a near stranger to his home out of the blue was probably a terrible way to get an invitation. It sounded like you scared him pretty badly, and that’s usually not the best way to start a hang-out, in my experience.” Snorting softly, she gave him an amused look. “Maybe in yours, though.”

Leaning towards Kaito with a wink, Elia waved him to lean down more towards her. “Hey, I’ll make tracks, and if you offer an apology, and maybe to help out? You might be able to salvage that invitation. We can get food another time, if you were serious about that.” 

“Aaaaaand hopefully I won’t be single when that happens,” she half-joked.

‘Your girlfriend tried to drown me a few days ago,’ Kaito thought, ‘I think you could tell her literally anything, and it wouldn’t compare to her heartbreak and anger a few days ago. I think I bring out all the most extreme feelings in her. I think she hates me and she’s still in love with me. I know I feel the same way. I’m sorry we’re like this. We need other people to save us from each other. We’re going to kill each other at this rate. Please love her. Please understand that at some point I’m going to try to fall in love with you too. I have to. The jealousy will kill me otherwise.’

There were so many things Kaito needed to tell Elia. So many things she didn’t understand about Maki. What Maki came with. The burden Kaito was always going to be on their relationship. That he wasn’t going anywhere.

He had half considered bringing it all up today…

…but he was glad it wasn’t going to happen. Maki deserved better. The longer Kaito could hide his ‘Kaito’ness from Elia, the better. Let her truly fall in love with Maki first. Then she could find out more about the ‘Kaito’ problem.

Instead, Kaito grinned, “You think so? Guess it can’t hurt to give it a shot! And man, don’t worry about ‘being single’. Maki adores you. She gets stupid and cute about you, it’s adorable. And again… I don’t think it changes much. You’re right, Maki and I know some stuff about the world. We’re worldly! I don’t think you’re going to overwhelm her, is what I mean. You can trust Maki.”

Elia wondered if over that future meal, she should tell Kaito that his perpetual heartache tasted like the scrap tops of red velvet cakes.

Blushing a bit as Kaito exposed Maki’s fondness, Elia smiled indeed stupidly and cutely before she said softly, “I do. Just have to get to it now.” 

Taking a deep breath, Elia pulled herself together and tapped Kaito’s shoulder with the back of a hand. “Good luck sating your curiosity, Kaito. I’ll see you around.” And she headed off towards the stairs of the apartment building.

There was a beat, before the door at the end of the hall opened a crack, green eyes peering through again. Narrowing into a glare as they spotted Kaito still there. 

“Leave,” Lauriam grumbled. 

“Okay, but consider,” Kaito grinned, peeking at Lauriam through the slit, “you’re cooking with negative emotions, right? Weeeellll. Wouldn’t that be easier with someone you feel negative about… around?”

“I’m trying to feel more than one emotion, and work through things, not just get something brand new to be aggravated about,” Lauriam grouched, before he glared more fiercely at Kaito. “And don’t spread my address around. In case he never mentioned it to you, I have a restraining order against someone and the last thing I need is them being picked up by you to harass me.”

“Ooooooh, so you know how to make restraining orders already? That is… bad news for me, probably,” Kaito grinned, though his brow furrowed slightly, “Also alarming, you haven’t been here that long. Oh! Those guys that attacked you? Or that asshole who used to work at the factory? I’d never bring them to you. I’d probably try to scare them off, actually. But no worries, I have no intentions of leading anyone… else. To your apartment. I didn’t entirely realize it was a secret, I will be more discreet!”

“And come on, I inspire lots of emotions for you! Hatred of the family that systematically enslaved you. Hatred against the noble and elite class in general. Hatred over privileges of being perfectly protected. Disgruntlement that I haven’t properly apologized to your family yet. General annoyance…” Kaito's grin wavered a little, “...don’t let all of those things dissuade you! I’ll be a great assistant! I can clean pots!”

Lauriam’s glower was heavy, imposing. The kind of look that was not vague in the slightest about sending a firm GO AWAY message.

But at the mention of Orlette, he flinched, reflexively glancing around the walkway. And the list of very real grievances Lauriam had with Kaito…were a good point. 

{And dishes do suck, darling}

But most of all, during Kaito’s tirade, the door next to Lauriam’s opened, and Chai looked over, blinking in confusion about someone speaking with Lauriam through the door. But Chai could barely give an easy-going grin and open his mouth before Lauriam turned pink, quickly slid open his chain lock, and pulled Kaito into his apartment, calling a hurried, “HI, CHAI, SORRY, I’LL MAKE SURE MY GUESTS AREN’T TOO LOUD!!”

“Oh, no worries, man, I didn’t hear--oh, well?”

Hearing upbeat whistling start to fade through the door as his neighbor walked away, Lauriam’s face flushed more before he jabbed a finger in Kaito’s face. “You are not making me an enemy of my neighbors!” he hissed, “Sit down, don’t touch anything!”

…oh! Heck yeah! He’s in!

Kaito happily was dragged inside–heh, Lauriam’s neighbor was cute–and after a quick look around decided to sit down on one of the stools by the counter that split the kitchen from the living room. It was always a precarious balancing act, sitting in one of these little stools for Kaito, but he crossed his legs and leaning against the counter, looking curiously at the ingredients Lauriam had laid out. 

“So!” Kaito said, “What are you making?”

Lauriam gave Kaito a tired glare. “...buns. I wanted to test out what different emotions taste like, and those aren’t too hard to make different flavors to test combinations too. But now everything’s going to taste the same.”

Sighing, he started measuring out warm water from his sink. “Why didn’t you just leave with your friend?”

“I was worried I was going to be weird at her, if I went with her,” Kaito said honestly, giving the ‘buns’ a curious look, “And I’ve been genuinely curious about this process of yours. I thought it would help to have someone around who could tell you if your food, like… worked. And I thought it’d be a good chance to talk to her with someone else around.”

“But calmer heads prevailed.” Kaito said, “And now the calm one’s left us. We’re probably doomed.”

“I swear, if I have to move after just moving in…”

“Darling, it’s almost comical how much you hate this dumbass,” Marluxia snorted, putting yeast into the water without breaking stride from Lauriam’s movements. “Look, we can just try again another day, and it’s not like this is going to waste--we just don’t have to buy bread. Or we can enlist the perpetual black holes that are far more welcome to stroll through our door.”

“...oh stop pouting,” Marluxia laughed after a quiet moment. Though, the smile he leveled at Kaito when his attention returned to the price wasn’t exactly kind. “Seriously, though, you should be far more worried about being weird at us than you currently are. I wasn’t kidding about the knife, earlier.”

Kaito shrugged… before he suddenly laughed. 

“I bet,” Kaito said, sadly amused, “You’d cut your own neck before you cut mine.”

Lauriam’s eyes widened in shock for a moment before he bared his teeth, walking around the counter with his hands balled at his sides. “Get out. Leave.”

“Uh oh,” Kaito murmured, standing up and putting his hands up in surrender, taking a genuinely worried step back as Lauriam approached, “My bad, my bad, I wasn’t…the folks who get mad at me tend to be the self-destructive type, is the reason I mentioned it. It’s just been a thing recently.”

That just stoked the fires in Lauriam’s eyes. 

“What, so you think the best thing to say to someone like that is to make fucking suicide jokes?!” Lauriam continued his steps toward Kaito. “Get out of my home. Don’t talk to me, don’t come here again, leave my family the fuck alone. We’re not some attraction to gawk at when you’re a little too bored having a stable life.”

…yeah, that was fair.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to… yeah, alright.” Kaito sighed, nodding. Putting his hands down, he headed to the door, pausing as he got to the exit, “...sorry.” And then he headed out.

Lauriam stood in furious sentry at the door, ensuring Kaito left. Sliding the chain closed, locking the deadbolt, then the handle lock. And as he walked back to his kitchen…

He slid down the cabinets into a ball on the floor. Eyes pricking with tears, waves of humiliation and shame and anger casting over him. 

“He’s such an asshole.”

{...La-La, please. I know, sweetie… You are not shutting down from this. C’mon, you’re in your feelings, that’ll at least work for the buns, right? Up, pull yourself up from the floor}

With a wet, unsteady breath, Lauriam pulled himself up, taking a breath to steady his hands as he measured out flour to pour into the water and yeast. 

That was all he was good for, wasn’t it. Even nosy, rubbernecking strangers knew Lauriam was just…some brain damaged, self-destructive sinkhole. What are you gonna do today, Lauriam? Cut your throat?

He resolutely measured out salt and sugar, and didn’t use his tears. 

-

Elia didn’t think she knew the full extent of it, but she’d grown more accustomed to Maki’s sense of safety over the months they’d been dating. While Kaito had treated the subject of magic casually, it was the kind of subject that tended to be best discussed behind closed doors, so while they enjoyed going around city trails (and slightly out-of-city trails), Elia figured she wouldn’t want to bring up a more contentious subject while Maki might feel the need for vigilance. And while her girlfriend’s room was meant to be a place of rest, it was a place that was Maki’s, through and through, and should she need the space, she could easily push Elia out of it. 

Not that Elia was fully expecting rejection! But it…paid to consider it. 

So as she came by the castle, she asked if they could stay in Maki’s room for a bit, and that she wanted to talk to Maki about something. 

There was no use hand-wringing or hedging. Just had to come out and say it. 

Elia took a breath, and met gorgeous claret eyes that regularly stole her breath. 

“Kaito clued me in you probably know about magic. Maki, I love you, and this doesn’t change a damn thing about how I feel about you, though I’m sorry for hiding it.” Elia confessed, “I’m a mortal angel.”

Maki’s eyes briefly widened… before she sighed, looking away. “Kaito.”

But that was about all that was worth saying about that, as she refocused on Elia. Frowning as she tried to guess what Elia was going to reveal before she revealed it–vampire? Werewolf? Probably empath, empaths were a dime a dozen–though her frown took on a more puzzled look as Elia finally did the grand reveal…

…she had heard that word before somewhere. It was on the tip of her tongue. “...is that a sort of… fairy?”

Pff, Kaito was right about that, it turned out. He did know Maki well. 

Elia smiled softly. “It’s technically a classification of oni, if you’re going to go all anthropological on it. Emotion-eaters, classically servants of gods, though that part’s a little…” She sighed, running a hand through her hair, mixing the blue and black. “Angels eat positive emotions--Hanami was a city-wide buffet, practically.”

“Oh,” Maki frowned, “Like a demon. Okay…and you eat positive emotions…”

Why on earth did she spend time with Maki then?

“...actually, I’m more concerned about that ‘servant of gods’ thing,” Maki admitted, a calm focus coming over her eyes as she said, entirely serious and without a hint of self-doubt, “Do you need me to get you out of servitude to a god?”

Elia nodded--basically a demon, if that was Maki’s point of reference, yeah--though as Maki asked if Elia needed help…

An adoring smile broke out on Elia’s face as she leaned towards Maki, pressing a soft kiss against the side of her head. “Of course that would be your first question. Gods, I love you so much.”

With a joyous laugh on her voice, Elia shook her head as she straightened. “No, I’m already free.” Her smile softened. “That’s the ‘mortal’ part of my whole deal. But believe me, I’d be swooning all over again for a gorgeous woman deciding to free me from divine chains.” Now mauve eyes warmed as Elia traced a hand down Maki’s arm. “...I’m happier you don’t have to make that decision.”

Maki pouted, pinking a bit at the kiss. Of course she was going to ask that. It was the most important question. 

Though, she guessed the next important question was… “Why are you telling me?”

“I’m assuming the answer is Kaito gave you some sort of ultimatum,” Maki sighed, irritation bleeding on her face, “I can have… words. With him about that. But… I know we’re trying to be something serious, but you don’t ‘owe me’ your secrets. Not yet. I’d maybe be more worried and upset about it in a year or so,” Maki admitted, “But I’m not entitled to you… yet.”

“Not really, so don’t be too mad at him,” Elia smiled at the irritation on Maki’s face, “Just a little. His not-really friend, I got the impression, found out I was an angel with…emotionally charged food?” She laughed a little at the absurdity in it now. “I guess he told Kaito and Kaito tried to barge into the guy’s apartment to have me help out in a taste test. He didn’t hold anything over me, said he wasn’t planning to tell you at all, actually…”

“...but while I don’t owe you my secrets…if you already know about this sort of stuff? Maki, it’s not something I want to hide from you. I know I startle you sometimes with nightmares, I can say all day that I love you for a whole host of reasons that aren’t the ethically dubious ones of eating your emotions, and I just want to be honest with you about it.” Elia rolled her eyes a little exasperatedly. “I want to be able to tell you the truth when eating a pie makes my hands start shaking. I don’t owe it to you, but I feel like you deserve it.”

Maki, briefly, felt a flash of hurt at hearing Kaito had been planning to keep it from her. Elia didn’t owe Maki her secrets, but Kaito sure did.

…but that flash of hurt was likely what he wanted. He was probably still mad about the stream. Fine.

“...I wouldn’t think you’d date me to eat my emotions, not if it’s happy ones,” Maki admitted, “I’m happy around you, certainly, but… I haven’t been happy a lot, lately. Maybe much of ever. I can’t even imagine my happiness tasting good. I picture it tasting… burnt.”

“You’re mortal, though.” Maki said, “Like me?”

“Not to shoot my hand waving it in my own crosshairs,” Elia grinned, “But one of my favorite Maki-flavors happens when we’re hanging out together, like when we pick out books to read in here and you let me take the rocking chair even though you like it way more than I do. Your peace tastes like a slow-roasted lemon and herb chicken with an orange flavor I would’ve never thought to put with it until you told me about some of your favorite foods back home, served over mashed potatoes with the perfect amount of butter.”

Leaning in again, Elia rested her head against Maki’s. Murmuring, “Comforting. Substantial. The kind of meal that makes you smile just smelling it because it feels like home.”

Elia traced her fingers against Maki, wordlessly asking to hold it. “I’m mortal, like you. Those baby pictures my mom loves to show you when you come over aren’t forged, I really was that cute.”

Maki closed her eyes, resting her head back against Elia. Comforting? Her? Well, she tried to be, in her own ways… it was nice, to be mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes with a ton of butter was an admirable thing to be.

…butter rotten with mold that poisoned…

Maki accepted Elia’s hand, but she kept her eyes closed. “I’m relieved you’re mortal,” she admitted, “...I’ve seen what loving a god looks like. I don’t know if I could have done it. There’s something tragic, being temporary and in love with the forever. And besides… how else do we atone?”

Death was a cruelty to anyone. But at least the wicked earned it. It was about as much ‘justice’ as burning a whole village to get at one murderer inside of it, but at least that one person really had had it coming.

Starving a whole city, to get to a handful of people who had actually earned it.

“Sorry,” Maki whispered, “you caught me in a tough week to do this. Not that I’m saying you shouldn’t have, I’m just… I have a lot on my mind right now. I’ll recover. But it hurts for now. Still, thank you for telling me. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. Or us.”

“I think there’s a lot of cruelty, in forever,” Elia responded gently. “Of course, that’s a lot of my own baggage. But in all the freedom of the temporary, I’m so happy the temporary me and the temporary you managed to meet. And atonement…”

Elia sighed softly. Maki, her good Maki, didn’t need to hear about that. Especially when--

“I know,” she said softly back, stroking her thumb over Maki’s hand. “And I’m sorry you’re hurting. Maybe there was some smart plan to make for the optimum time to tell you…but I’m just me, and I didn’t want to wait. I want to be with you in my fullest while you’re hurting, and when it eases, there’ll be less space left unaddressed between us.”

Laughing softly, Elia pressed a kiss to Maki’s temple. “I would offer to pull some angel trick for you, but in my experience it doesn’t actually make anyone feel better. Just a distraction.”

“I don’t need that sort of thing,” Maki said simply. Sincerely, as she opened her eyes, “I’ll recover. I’ve… lived a life I’m not always proud of. And I’ve experienced things that I’m afraid of saying, in case you’d never look at me the same again. And I haven’t always handled it as resolutely or as gracefully as I think I’ve convinced people I have.”

“But I do always recover. It’s my best and worst trait. There doesn’t seem to be a horror  I can’t walk away from. I don’t know if I’m suited for an angel that feeds on happy feelings… but I can promise that someday soon, I will stand and move in a way where you might not notice that. And that when that happens? I’ll want to stand and move with you. You’ll make it worthwhile.” Maki smiled lightly, “I believe that.”

It was more of a courtesy, really. As much as Elia knew Maki, she wasn’t a person to take gentle lies or playful distractions. She wasn’t a relentless crusader, but--

“Life goes on,” Elia smiled back at Maki, “It happens, you adapt, you do what you can. Sometimes not the way you wish, later. But it’s still something you have to live with. Those aren’t foreign ideas to me, Maki, and for what it’s worth, saying this without knowing the things you’re afraid to say…I’m grateful you recover.”

“You might not be suited for an angel, but that kinda sucks anyway. I think you match much better with an Elia.” Elia grinned brighter, her eyes scrunching with happiness.

…Maki laughed lightly, soft and bell-like. “You’re a dork.”

Elia laughed brightly. “I’m your dork.”

“I know,” Maki said, squeezing Elia’s hand lightly, “Thank you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, angel cake.”

-

Lauriam had pulled himself together enough to make the dough. Had gone almost mindless through the motions of shaping each bun and putting them on trays to bake. Had come a bit more back to himself as he looked at the oh no these were a lot of buns. And had rather fretfully started frying up some sausage as he sent an almost pleading and faux prideful message to Ira, asking him to come over and help eat the far too much food Lauriam had made. 

Thankfully he narrowly avoided burning anything when halfway through his wait time, he realized he probably looked like a mess and dashed to the bathroom to clean up some. 

It took Ira a bit to get there, but after making sure he had the right door, he knocked lightly.

Click, clonk, shhh-ink!

A frazzled-looking Lauriam stared intently at Ira as he insistently welcomed him in. “I made sausage buns, caprese buns, cherry jam buns, and I have plain ones--which do you want to try first?”

Ira blinked, “Oh… that’s a lot of buns. Uh… cherry?”

Ira walked inside, listening to Lauriam close the door behind him, as he looked around. Not his first time at Lauriam’s place, he had helped move in furniture. But Lauriam had rearranged things a little since then. It looked nice. 

The kitchen was… “You made a lot.” Ira noticed, looking at the many sheets of fully cooked buns.

“Good man,” Marluxia hummed approvingly.

Now, it was no surprise Lauriam didn’t like Kaito, and Marluxia could take or leave him depending on the day. So for an uninvited guest who more than not, wasn’t appreciated, there was no description of the Garden Duo’s home for such riff-raff. 

For a friend like Ira? 

They were still decorating. As much as there was a part of Marluxia that wanted to go all out and adjust everything in their apartment to his liking, he was still cognisant of their finances, and Lauriam had made a very good point about the fun of finding things gradually through time. That said? 

The red, boxy couch matched the red stain of the wooden stools and the cushions atop each, which were all complimented by the primarily red abstract large flower print on one of the walls. There were little hanging crystals that circled the overhead light, casting reflective rainbows into the corners and, thankfully they had found out during their first few days stumbling out of bed, not right into sleepy eyes. Only cheap in price, but not in quality, Lauriam had found someone trying to get rid of an old embroidery stand, and for now it was folded against the wall but would surely be something of interest to look at when he started a project. There was a rose-shaped clock on a different wall from the print, and they had opted to paint that wall a blushing light pink, which made the deep brown coffee table feel much warmer. 

It was still a little bare bones, but it was a space clear with personality, and one that they could grow into. 

Usually. Because the space wasn’t usually so occupied with--

“I know,” Lauriam groaned, plating up a cherry bun for Ira, wordlessly starting to pour him some water too. “I got carried away, and now I’m going to be eating these for the next week and still have some left over.”

Ira sat down on one of the stools, accepting the plate with a small nod. He tore a small piece of the bun off, taking a bite… “I mean, they came out good. So that’s good,” Ira said, the next bite eating from the bun itself, “You didn’t make this much for just you though? Isn’t there anyone else you can pass it along to?”

“Good,” Lauriam said in a relieved sigh, plopping down on the stool next to Ira as he set down his drink. Though, he sighed a deeper one right after. “I’m specifically saving some for my therapist to taste test, when she gives me her message, if my siblings come by I know I can count on them to eat a bunch, my neighbors might like them, though it seems like Chai next door is always cooking something and I cannot get into an endless pleasantry exchange with him, Ira, I’ll crash out for real.”

Lauriam looked over the counter as what seemed like an overwhelming amount of trays to him right then. “I didn’t mean to make so many…”

Marluxia rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind him, he’ll bounce back soon. Just let him moan about the absurd problem of having too much food for a little while, it’s novel.”

“Mmm,” Ira acknowledged, finishing the cherry bun. They weren’t terribly big. Reaching over the counter, he grabbed a sausage bun next, settling it on his plate, “Maybe you could donate it to the castle kitchens? They feed a lot of people.”

“...yeah.” Resting on an arm, Lauriam rubbed his forehead a bit. “If these are negative enough, then I’d like to just pass them along to oni, but these are just the test, and even if it’s sort of underground, Prince Kokichi said I should still get a food handling license. I know how to cook cleanly, these won’t get anyone sick, but…”

He smiled weakly. “I guess I’m just kind of nervous about it. It’s well and good to declare I’ll start up a food business for oni, but it feels different actually handing food out to people and hoping they’ll like it.”

“They better,” Marluxia scoffed, “You’re practically a bun-making pro after all of these.”

“You do seem pretty competent at it already. Have you ever made these before?” Ira asked, gesturing to the many buns around them. “I don’t know much about cooking, but these look professional enough to me. They’re, you know… bun-shaped.”

Lauriam smiled softly. “I’ve made bread before, but this is the first time I’ve used this recipe, and, like, for buns.” He glanced down for a moment before half-shrugging. “If you can believe it, my parents and aunts and uncles weren’t super big on cooking. Most of them knew how, but by the time we got access to a kitchen, a lot of them hadn’t been for years. It’d been a few for me too, but…”

A small laugh escaped him. “The food the supervisors made for us was really gross, and as soon as we got the kitchen I just wanted to eat anything better. Probably didn’t help that I was a teenager and was starving all the time too. It was a little better once more people came in--first thing Axel and I ever did together was cook--and even as a little kid Riku’s been a real cook, even with the limited ingredients we had.”

“Guess I’ve cooked a fair amount, but nothing really fancy.”

“More than anything I’ve put together. I think you’ll do fine, based on this,” Ira said, chewing lightly on the sausage bun still, “So is this what you’re going to end up making for selling then? Buns?”

Lauriam gave Ira a grateful smile, though he hummed, “I’m a little surprised to hear that, though I suppose I’ve only seen you cook as part of a group. I’d be inclined to say that still counts.”

Giving another overwhelmed glance to the buns, Lauriam said uncertainly, “Maybe? I still need to check if they work well, but…bread-based foods are probably good to sell, right? Easy to transport, versatile, you don’t really need to provide bowls or utensils or anything. I think I’d end up making different things just for variety for my own sake, but this seems reasonable.”

Lauriam sweated a bit. “If simple.”

“Simple is underrated,” Ira assured him, “You know what most of us ended up craving once we were released, as our first food outside of the factory in years? Bread. Good bread. I think for all the reasons you mentioned. Easy, simple, comforting. It’s a good survival food.”

Lauriam smiled at the reassurance…but he still said quietly, “Sometimes it’s…nice, doing more than just surviving, though. It’s better than nothing, but I don’t want to do the bare minimum and have people buy from me just because it’s what they need to survive. I…want it to actually be good.”

A little nervous, he paused before admitting, “I’ve eaten enough survival food to appreciate it. There’s not a lot I’ll turn down. But eating something that’s actually good is…”

Marluxia huffed. “It’s living, rather than surviving. La-La, you’re stressing too much, this is waaaaaay better than worm-infested mangos, and you’re just going to get better. Those losers are going to be kissing our boots in gratitude.”

“It does seem they’ll have a lot to be grateful for,” Ira agreed, “And even if it’s not perfect when you start, you’ll get better with time. Maybe it starts with bread because you can do bread now, and becomes more later with practice. It doesn’t have to be exceptional right away. Marluxia is right, you’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”

Marluxia gave a haughty nod. Of course he was right. 

And between the two of them, Lauriam couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Ira. I promise, I didn’t just invite you over to give me a pep talk.”

“Duh, he invited you to make a dent in the damn bakery,” Marluxia snickered. “Eat up, ponyboy~ Maybe it’ll bend the stick up your ass enough to get it handed right back to you in cards.”

Lauriam grinned sheepishly. “We’re still working on collecting stuff to do with people. But we did get a card deck. A little more social than crafts.”

Ira shrugged lightly. He didn’t mind if Lauriam had invited him over for a pep talk, or just to talk about how worried he was. Sometimes people just wanted a listening ear, and he was alright with being that ear.

“Cards? Sure. If I don’t know the game, I don’t mind learning it.” Ira offered, before looking at the hoard of bread, “Do you want help packing this up first?”

“Yes, please,” Lauriam laughed warily, getting up to take out some of the boxes he’d thought to get, knowing what he was planning eventually. “I don’t think I really heard anything other than ‘you went’, but how was your time at the festival the other day? It really wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen before.”

“Mmm, I went,” Ira smiled lightly, getting up to take one of Lauriam’s boxes, “It was… it was fine. We had a bit of a hiccup. My sister had… she had a bad time, and she and the others kind of disappeared for a while. We knew where they were, but not why they were there, so we were all just sort of standing around waiting for them to come back, and when they eventually did…”

Ira shrugged tiredly, “Invi was pretty out of it, so I just hovered near her most of the day. We didn’t do much. I should probably just be glad it wasn’t worse. How was your time?”

Washing his hands--see, he knew food safety just fine--Lauriam gave Ira a brief concerned look. “I’m sorry she had a bad time. Even if you knew where they were, that’s kinda scary for them to just dip out for a while. I hope that she’s been doing better since.”

Hearing that, Lauriam felt a little awkward saying, “It was nice on my end. Marluxia and I went together with our little siblings. Did some shopping, ate weird and surprisingly good food, played some games, had totally not-festival-vibe heart-to-hearts.” He sighed softly. “They’re still pretty freaked out about us living alone. You and Invi still deciding on things?”

“She’s… better.” Ira said a touch uncertainly, “It shook her really badly. Someone got handsy with her in the bathroom. It sounds a bit like it was a… not a misunderstanding but… I don’t know. She’s alright, but understandably a little shaken.”

“...I think at this rate, we’re probably not going to.” Ira said plainly, “At least not anytime soon. Invi and I haven’t talked about it, and with what happened at the festival? I’m not going to bring it up, I don’t want to pressure her when she’s scared. Maybe we’ll just give it more time.”

“I’m glad you had a good time though.” Ira smiled lightly, “The flowers were nice, right?”

Lauriam’s slight smile vanished, turning to face Ira fully. Anger not flaring up like gasoline on a fire, like Ira had seen a few times, but something dark and furious smoldering in his eyes. “What?”

Marluxia flexed his fists almost idly. “You know you only have to give us a description, right?”

Ira frowned, “...I’d rather you didn’t. I didn’t not defend my sister's honor because I’m a coward, she said it had been okay. More than that, I don’t want you to get into trouble, your family needs you. Also, not to be paranoid but… your anger isn’t about to spread to other people in the building, is it?”

Lauriam didn’t want to call Ira a coward--it was why Marluxia had offered, so someone not in Invi’s direct support system could handle it without the backlash being so close to her. He wanted to say he didn’t care if he got in trouble, fuck it, he’d already been ‘in trouble’ and this was just another part of the shit side of Dicea he’d be seeing. He wanted to say his family would be on board. 

…but especially today, after Kaito, Ira’s question hit a sore spot, and after his anger had raged further, Lauriam winced into himself, looking away. Already taking deep breaths as he muttered, “No, it won’t…”

“...fuck, Ira,” Lauriam said in a small, hurt voice, rubbing a hand over his arm to self-soothe, “Even if she says it’s okay, we shouldn’t have to take shit like that anymore.”

“I know,” Ira said tiredly. His voice a little deadpan. Not dismissive. Just a bit… defeated, as he said, “It really didn’t sound that bad. It was bad, but of all the ways it could have been bad, it seemed unintentional. Someone wanted to prove he was strong by picking her up or something. I know that’s still not good, but…”

Another small shrug, “Look, I know between us I can be a bit more negative, but sometimes it really is just ‘at least it wasn’t worse’. I don’t love it, it doesn’t make me happy. But if Invi is okay with living with it, so am I. What else is there to do?”

There was a pause, Lauriam looking at Ira almost blankly for a moment.

(What else was he supposed to think when Ira said ‘got handsy’? What else was he supposed to feel, but consuming rage at something like that happening, undeserved anger towards Ira because Invi was his sister how could he say it so unaffected?! But knowing that, sometimes, that’s how people had talked about it back home too, because there really wasn’t anything they could do, and it wasn’t surprising.)

(...picking her up.)

At least it wasn’t worse. 

Not shoving him down, but gently ‘stepping’ up past the unstable, shaky feelings going through Lauriam, Marluxia smirked meanly. “Unsubtly hint to your little brats that there are some very good prank targets out in the city?”

Ira smiled thinly, “Sending the teens after them would probably be unusually cruel. And again… Invi is okay. It wasn’t ‘good’, but honestly, by that point I wasn’t expecting a good day at the festival anyway. It was tense before we ever went out, too many people who weren’t aware they were trying to party with people who can’t handle… really any surprise right now.” Ira sighed, rubbing his forehead, “If it wasn’t Invi, it was going to be another one of us. Could have been me, in the right circumstance. The festival was loud, it was busy, unpredictable. Invi and I after a certain point just sat in a field and pretended to watch the plays the rest of the day just because it was easier than trying to do things, by that point.”

“It was going to be ‘something’. I’m glad it wasn’t worse.” Ira said.

“I’m glad it wasn’t worse,” Lauriam agreed, voice slightly choked, “But I’m still sorry it was ‘something’. One day I’m going to get to gloat to you so hard when it’s ‘nothing’. And if you give me a tired look and mumble about how it’s always going to be ‘something’, I’m actually going to shove one of these buns down your throat.”

Lauriam wasn’t exactly someone who felt very optimistic about the future right now. But if he of all people had managed to enjoy a nice festival, then Ira and Invi would get there one day.

Ira smiled lightly, “No argument. I’m sure the next, uh… whatever that festival was called will be better. And I did like the flowers. I think Invi met some pretty girl, so it wasn’t a total disaster. It was just a tough day and I’m just… kinda deadened to tough days. It’ll get better.”

“It’s such bullcrap,” Lauriam sighed, feeling some energy drain out of him, “I can’t wait for the time when we’ll have a day where we’re slightly inconvenienced and we’ll whine for weeks about it. It can get better to that point already.”

Marluxia rocked his knuckles into his wrist as he smirked at Ira, raising an eyebrow. “Oh-ho, she met a pretty girl~? You two are close, but I have to imagine it might not be the most natural thing, asking your brother to wingman for you.”

Ira genuinely laughed at that. It’d be nice if a slight inconvenience felt like a big deal. Their life was too full of actual big deals to get there yet, but it’d be nice.

At Marluxia’s question… Ira raised an eyebrow, “It was how she described her. A pretty girl came to help her out… please don’t wingman my sister, I feel like that could potentially get very intense.”

Marluxia snorted. “Please, I feel like all I’d get is a thousand yard stare even implying to ask if either of you have even thought about relationships. But~ I am a big personal advocate of how a good relationship can make shit times less shitty~ And all the pretty girls in the damn city would come flocking for your sister’s perusal if I offered my services,” he sniffed. 

“...I’m going to warn Invi the thought was ever in your head.” Ira decided, “Just so she can run if you show up in some sort of charming outfit or something.”

Ira glanced at the pack of cards, before asking, “...I know you’re upset. But do you want to play a game anyway?”

Marluxia gasped in dramatic offense. “You really want to ensure we never see each other again?! Because all my outfits are charming, naturally~”

“...” Lauriam gave Ira a small smile. “You ever play Tiavellian Poker? Feels like the sort of brain-y thing you’d be into.”

“No, but like I said: teach me, I’ll keep up,” Ira promised, standing up and heading to the couch.

“Alright,” Lauriam said, grabbing the pack of cards and pulling up a thick, fluffy cushion on the floor across the coffee table from Ira, “You deal four cards every round and arrange them face down in a grid…”

-

Dr. Mariah raised a delicate eyebrow at the… many buns in the tupperware she had just been handed. “Are you suggesting I’m a tad underweight?” She asked, something lightly teasing in her tone as she looked up at Lauriam, “I’m actually quite well-fed for my kind already, though I appreciate you’re preparedness.”

Lauriam smiled warmly, with a certain amount of sheepishness. “You did say you wouldn’t buy from me out of ethical concerns, so there’s only so many chances to eat my cooking.”

“But, really,” he laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck, “I ended up making kind of a ridiculous amount of food. I’m trying to pass them off to people, is more like it. And I’ve been assured from one taste-tester that they taste good, at least, though, um… Your feedback would be more helpful about the flavor combinations.”

Dr. Mariah nodded, looking among the buns before, being kind to her own tastebuds, just picking one of the plain buns. She sniffed it–oh, this was going to be spicy–before nibbling it a bit.

Her face, ever so slightly, scrunched. 

“This is very spicy,” Dr. Mariah said, letting it settle for a bit before taking another bite, “But, very delicious. There’s certain aspects of what you’ve put into it that’s overwritten the flavor you might have given just tasting you in the air. The taste of the bread itself is prominent, for instance, your emotions more like seasoning overlayering what you made. So I’m tasting a plain bun, but there’s a heavy, strong seasoning of something hot mixed into it… pardon, I know the spice in particular, but its name is escaping me. Have you ever had a curry?”

Lauriam blinked before balking a bit, giving the buns a newly enlightened concerned look. Spicy??? Well, uh, he was glad it tasted good still, but that was a very different flavor than anything he might’ve expected and oh dear, some of those were going to be incredibly strange tasting…

“Yeah,” he answered a bit warily, “It was one of the castle dinners while I was there. There are some…particularly spicy dishes here that are kinda weird, to be honest, but the curry tasted nice. Even if I had to make a lot of use of the tip we got to have milk with it.”

“It’s a bit like that. It’s quite good with the plain bun.” Dr. Mariah glanced at the others, “The sausage one I imagine will also be quite good. I… hesitate to try the cherry one, but, I have heard Luminous folk enjoy somewhat… interesting mixes of fruit and savory foods. Oni from Luminary might appreciate those,” She said, grabbing one of the cherry ones and taking a bite… before her face scrunched for a different reason now, “It might be a bit beyond my palette thought.”

“That said, their main function as nutrients? Highly successful,” Dr. Mariah said, putting down the bun, “...and a bit concerning. The flavor is muddled by the food itself, but I recognize fresh fury and self-hatred when I taste it. You were highly emotional when you made this. I hope you didn’t harm yourself in the pursuit. I don’t think it’d be necessary to achieve the goal you’re aiming for.”

“Makes more sense to me than food so spicy you can barely taste,” he half-jokingly countered with a small smile. 

But, weird flavor aside, that was…good. It wasn’t just some fluke, this method really worked. High emotions during the cooking process successfully transferred into the food itself, and were sources of nutrients for oni. 

…though he had been pretty concerned with the flavor.

Sighing, Lauriam wilted slightly. “This wasn’t exactly the test I meant for. I wanted to try a few different feelings to get a better spread of what sorts of flavors I could work with, but…” Eyes lidding tiredly, Lauriam grumbled, “Kaito decided to break into my house instead.”

“La-La made it through a breakdown, though~” Marluxia tattled proudly. “He got up to cook rather than crying on the ground for an hour.”

Ah, Kaito was making problems again. Dr. Mariah would mention to Shuichi next time she saw him that Kaito needed some sort of distraction or pass-time. He clearly didn’t have enough to occupy himself with at the moment.

“That is progress,” Dr. Mariah assumed. If Marluxia was bringing it up specifically, that likely meant this was the exception, not the norm. “Walk me through the process. What made this time different from others, when you were faced with difficult emotions?”

Sighing slowly, a troubled expression on his face, Lauriam crossed his arms, something about the motion looking a bit more like a self-hug rather than any sort of obstinance. “I’m not sure. I was so…pissed at him, and it just crashed down on me when I finally got him to leave. Honestly I just wanted to go to bed and call the day a wash,” he muttered, looking to the side with a frown, “...but I’d already started the dough, and I wanted to cook today, and I’d already meant to cook with high emotions. They were there so I just did it. I’m not sure why it was, I dunno, not easier, because it still felt hard, but possible, I guess, today when it’s not other days.”

Dr. Mariah hummed, leaning back in her chair in thought.

“...it’s not necessarily a ‘solution’,” she cautioned, “But there’s a reason workaholism is a thing, if you’ve ever heard the phrase. Some people can use work, or some sort of task given to themselves, as a way to, if not… ‘manage’ their emotions? To sort of compartmentalize them.”

“There are healthy ways to utilize that sort of thing. Some people deal with stress or anger by, say, cleaning their homes or running an errand. Something that will get them busy and moving,” Dr. Mariah said, “And once the task is done, some of that frustration and anger has been worked through it the process, making it easier to process those emotions once you’re ready to look at them. Though, others can put themselves in a cycle where they never actually process, seeking constant distractions, and others still find that giving themselves a task just makes the stress worse and more unmanageable.”

“I’ve always thought the key difference was motivation. Though, what type of motivation would work differs from personality to personality,” Dr. Mariah said, “What made the task worth doing,for you?”

“That’d track, then,” Marluxia hummed, musing, “I’ve been the only one working between us forever. Like…oh no, La-La’s upset, what to do about it.” He rolled his eyes. “Mope about it on the ground for a few hours or lie on the ground staring at the sky for a few hours, what a difficult choice.”

Lauriam ducked, pouting a bit, before he gave Dr. Mariah an awkward shrug. “...I didn’t want the dough I’d started to go to waste, I told you I was going to cook and I didn’t want to just not do it because I was upset. It felt easier just to follow what Marluxia said and not think about it to the point it just made me more upset.”

“Have you thought about what upset you since it happened at all though?” Dr. Mariah asked, “Avoidance is only useful up to a point. To take the sting off your emotions. That was why I had you attempt to filter your feelings through hobbies or some sort of task, before. Ideally, that’s meant to be the best of both worlds–keeping oneself busy enough to not spiral, but still processing your feelings in a healthy way. Did you give yourself a chance to process your feelings while cooking?”

Lauriam a weird combo motion of shrugging and nodding, his gaze low but not devastated. “I’m not really sure how much processing really needs to be done about the fact that Kaito’s a raging jerk, though. It feels like the best things that can happen are him leaving me alone and not randomly bringing strangers to my home.”

“And making frankly uninspired suicide jokes,” Marluxia added with a sagely nod. “Like, I’ve been baited with the best of them, his was just tacky.”

Dr. Mariah wished she was more surprised, but… “Kaito tried to draw you into a fight?” Dr. Mariah guessed, “I’m sorry to hear that. Though, I’m also concerned to hear he brought someone to your home?”

“I couldn’t tell you if he wanted a fight,” Lauriam grouched, “Who knows what’s going through that guy’s head. It kind of feels like he tries to get people angry enough to want to fight, and then just giggles to himself about the fact they got mad. But he said he just wanted to gawk at me cooking, when he’s literally one of the first people who knew that that whole purpose was going to be me working through stuff that upsets me, and he brought an angel friend of his over to taste test even though she’s got the wrong side of it, as far as I understand.”

Lauriam glowered a bit more. “I don’t even know how he got my address in the first place. We’re not friends and I barely know him, he is not someone that just gets to drop by.”

Dr. Mariah sighed, “As you know, a restraining order is always an option for you, in regards to him. Kaito has his own issues, but those issues have a way of bleeding over onto random people he gets fixated on. It’s certainly not something you should be expected to put up with.”

“...angel friend?” Dr. Mariah asked, it mostly being entirely personal curiosity.

“I might,” Lauriam admitted, “He even made some comment about that being dangerous for him when I mentioned I’d already filled out one restraining order. I…still feel nervous about Orlette. I guess none of the stuff she did was actually illegal, but it feels like she wouldn’t care about circumventing the law to…rid the world of filth, or whatever.” He sighed tiredly. “But law does feel like something that’d work against Kaito more, and once my family gets their own place, I don’t think I’d have a ton of reasons to go to the castle that often.”

Nodding, Lauriam elaborated, “Some woman named Elia? She tasted Kaito’s emotion pie before and got kind of freaked out, I think, and my sister mentioned that she was something called an angel. I don’t think she knew what was going on, pretty much apologized to Marluxia immediately and left.”

The restraining orders worked in much the same way as most of their laws did. There was a certain understanding, societally, that it only worked as much as everyone within that society agreed that it would. You ignored a restraining order at the risk of the disapproval and ostracization of the people around you.

It’d very likely work on Kaito because it’d embarrass him to have a restraining order on him to begin with, and more, if he violated it, his husband Kokichi would hear about it. And Kaito took Kokichi’s opinion on him very seriously. So Dr. Mariah guessed it’d work just fine.

As for the angel… ah. Elia. Well, that was interesting.

“Well, I’m sorry all of that happened, though it does sound like it became useful as a testing of coping techniques,” Dr. Mariah said, “Before we continue, let me pass you this. These are your referrals along with appointment dates. The psychologist I’m recommending is Dr. Lector, and your neurologist is Dr. Frankenstein. They’re both experts in their fields, and are practiced in the specific symptoms I’m asking them to look at.”

Dr. Mariah passed the two pieces of paper to Lauriam with the information on it, “Just go to the address at the time and place written down, and they’ll be ready for you.”

Lauriam gave the papers a grim look as he accepted them, looking them over in a general way. The appointments are soon so…he supposed that was good for being prompt about things. “Thank you,” he nonetheless murmured politely. “The impression I got from, uh, what a neurology appointment is, was more, like…stuff happening. So should I ask someone to come by to make sure I can get home after the appointment?”

“You shouldn’t be too disoriented afterwards, but you might be a bit tired, so certainly, it’d be wise to have someone walk you home.” Dr. Mariah agreed, “And, while I understand how this can be difficult… try not to worry about the results, too much. While it’s helpful for us as your professionals to run these tests, to give us better ideas how to aid you, on your end, nothing changes too much from where you’re at in this very moment. We’re still going to be focusing on coping techniques, processing emotions, support. We may be able to give you things that making those techniques easier. But you’re already on the correct path for personal health.”

Lauriam opened his mouth slightly before hesitating. Something in him seeming to deflate a bit as he conceded, “I guess the ship has already been sailing, concerning how my brain is just…fundamentally broken.”

Marluxia smirked lazily. “That was probably true even before the seizure stuff, darling.”

Lauriam rubbed above his eyes with a tired sigh. Yeah. That was probably true. He wasn’t super sure how it affected things physically, but having a Nobody over a long period of time had certainly changed things, if Lauriam hesitated to call it being broken. Zexion and Ienzo would probably have a better idea of that. 

“While we’re on the topic of coping and all that, La-La managed not to flip out on Ponyboy for once,” Marluxia drawled, even the end of his words being cut off with a huff from Lauriam. 

“We talk plenty without that!” Lauriam defended.

“You’re not ‘broken’,” Dr. Mariah said, “Broken suggests non-functioning. You’re quite capable. You simply need more time and assistance, but these are not broken aspects of you. I would hesitate to call anyone ‘broken’, but it most certainly doesn’t apply to you in any interpretation of the concept.”

“That said… I do need more context.” Dr. Mariah said, “‘Ponyboy’?”

Lauriam thought that was a little too kind an interpretation for him, but he supposed he appreciated his therapist having more faith in him. 

“My friend Ira,” Lauriam clarified, though a sweet, fond smile turned up his lips. “Marluxia’s a nicknamer. Pretty much everyone in our family has some nickname that Marluxia’s used more by far to refer to them. Ira has this mask that looks like a unicorn, so--ponyboy.”

A little more sheepishly, Lauriam explained, “We do just have regular conversations and hang outs…but I have kinda flipped out on him hard before. And we were talking about some rough stuff for a bit.” Looking to the side, Lauriam frowned. “I always feel like such a jerk for it, because Ira’s so resigned to stuff being awful, so I’m just one more awful thing he has to deal with. And he doesn’t even resent me for it, which almost feels worse.”

Dr. Mariah tilted her head slightly, “Do you feel resented, otherwise?”

An uncomfortable twist went through Lauriam’s lips. “...people have told me explicitly that I’m not. That even if I am a burden, it’s just the kind of thing that any kind of caring relationship has so it’s one to carry happily.”

Marluxia scoffed lightly, his eyes lidding. “That doesn’t stop you from feeling that way, though~ Just because people aren’t complaining doesn’t mean you can’t see how you’ve just made things a million times harder, and that just feels like resentment people aren’t telling you.”

“Yeah,” Lauriam said softly. “And because they aren’t complaining and say it’s fine, it…feels like I have an expectation on me, or an obligation to do better next time. But I just keep messing up and never getting better so it feels like I’ve failed that, so I’m just waiting for their patience to run out, even if they’ve told me over and over it won’t. And it’s not like someone can just call me a piece of crap because I think that’d destroy me too.”

“We’ve spoken before that I think you don’t fully embrace that you’re someone in a difficult situation, among others in difficult situations,” Dr. Mariah said, “I understand in your eyes, your reactions are the least manageable and the most extreme of everyone you know… but your perception is biased, by being the front row seat to everything you do and how it affects those around you. But I assure you, you’re not exceptionally difficult to deal with, or uniquely struggling to cope well. I think you may be dismissing the effect other people's breakdowns have had on the group and on you for the same reason you say the others are explaining to you why you’re not a burden.”

“You’ve mentioned Ienzo and Zexion’s situation a few times now. They had a breakdown which largely affected the group in some way, yes?” Dr. Mariah said, “Try putting yourself in their shoes. How are you different, to the point that you are a burden and they are not?”

Lauriam frowned, sitting back on the lounge as he looked away. By virtue of being the only two young kids in a group for an extended amount of time, he and Marluxia had been compared to Ienzo and Zexion…pretty much their whole lives. Sometimes in nice ways, like their parents trying to out brag each other, sometimes generally, needing considerations as children. 

…sometimes directly. 

“...they’re smart,” Lauriam said quietly, wilting a bit in his insecurity on the matter. “I’m not sure it’s something you’d really understand unless you met them, but my little brothers are pure geniuses. When we first met, half the reason I didn’t want to stay on the island was because every other word out of Zexion’s mouth was something I needed to go layers into his intent to understand. At 9 they already talked like a dictionary, and there had to be a whole…freaking family meeting when everyone figured out I had a lot of trouble reading.”

Lauriam’s eyes stayed low, the simmering inadequacy he’d often felt growing up rising up now that he was talking about it. “They even figured out how to stop conditioning from working, something that we thought was impossible. They hardly fight with anyone, they make friends easily and people generally like them, Even, Vexen, and Aeleus have never needed to knock them out to stop acting crazy, mostly they’ve just continually worked on ways to keep people safe from the unpredictable waves of psychic nonsense.”

Marluxia scoffed lowly, irritation twitching at his temple. “And everyone was constantly covering for them blatantly doing anti-conditioning experiments, no one was more aggravated at their shitty sleep schedule than their parents, they’re little awkward weirdos constantly trying to get out of exercise, I don’t think Ienzo has a fucking clue how to do laundry or cook anything more complex than cereal, and he split himself into a million pieces and locked himself in his head for years without anyone noticing. And now it’s like we can barely go a day without noticing him being so fucking on edge I’m not sure how he hasn’t had a heart attack yet. Just because they’re nerds doesn’t make them better than anyone.”

“...hm,” Dr. Mariah hummed, “I think we may have touched on something new.”

Marluxia gave her a sharp, bemused smirk. “Oh yeah?”

“It’s alright, before we get into it. From what I understand, you two, or, four, grew up alongside each other. I know it’s not quite ‘siblings’ by how your group broke up the concept of family relations within the factory, but it does sound a bit like sibling rivalry, which is very common,” Dr. Mariah said, “And as the eldest child, there was likely a lot of pressure on you to be the ‘mature’ one within that dynamic. For instance, I think it’s telling that you don’t believe Ienzo and Zexion have ever been made to learn any particular skill in chores, which in theory should have been spread around the group. Did you find yourself facing different expectations than him, among the adults in your lives?”

“Four, hundred and four, same difference,” Marluxia hummed in sing-song. 

Lauriam shifted uncomfortably. “I still do consider them my brothers. Defining family relationships could be kind of…weird between us, sometimes words we’d use weren’t really what fit but I think ‘sibling’ is pretty accurate for me and them. And…” he lightly winced, “I think the ‘eldest’ child thing gets more complicated because Ienzo was the first kid. It…I don’t think it was expectations, exactly…”

Marluxia rolled his eyes. “The Dork Squad never had to do anything, outside of, like, exercises. For most of our lives, ‘Enzy’s body was just a lump on his pallet, and maybe you’d get a number that day that was chill with sitting up sometimes.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, sometimes the Zexions liked to do things,” Lauriam softened, “But, I mean, I volunteered to help out with cleaning and cooking and stuff like that. I already knew how, so it seemed natural. And after Even, and after Inzi died, I was the best at sewing in our family.”

“You’re actually the best,” Marluxia sniffed, “Let Even and ‘Enzy stick to bodies, you can handle clothes and not be a freak about it.”

“I see… so if it wasn’t expectations, why the resentment for Ienzo’s lack of contribution?” Dr. Mariah asked, “What brought it to mind?”

Lauriam blinked in surprise. “I don’t resent them. Ienzo and Zexion do a lot for our family.”

Marluxia rolled his eyes. “It’s not resentment. It’s just shit they don’t do that La-La’s got in spades. Them knowing how to, like, map the shape of psychic space in a mind, or whatever the hell Zexy was on about, doesn’t make them any more important than you knowing how to stitch cats onto a shirt to make it cute.”

“I still think ‘resentment’ is part of this,” Dr. Mariah said, “I asked you to perceive your place in the group, if you were Ienzo. To try to see how the world looks, how his own actions might be perceived, from his viewpoint. Instead, I think what I received was your frustration over why Ienzo isn’t perceived as a burden, but you are. Again, not from his perception, but how you preemptively justify why Ienzo’s issues aren’t considered as bad as yours, that being due to him being the favored child between you.”

Lauriam blinked again, before pouting a bit. “...you also asked how we were different, which is a different question I don’t know how to answer from his perspective. And that’s just a hard exercise to do in general, I’ve been able to look at it for years and I still have no idea how Ienzo’s head works. A-and I’m glad he isn’t perceived as a burden!” Lauriam was quick to establish once that statement sunk in. “Fights between us all are awful, I don’t want big issues going on.”

Dr. Mariah gave Lauriam a considering look… “Let’s try a different person,” Dr. Mariah said, “Let’s try Luis. Can you try to perceive–empathise–with how he might view his own place in the group?”

Lauriam nodded a little, though he winced. Voice gentle as he more hesitatingly said, “He feels guilty for a lot. He’s called himself a coward enough that that’s not exactly a guess I’m making, and I know he doesn’t feel great about times when he’s been obliterated when someone needed him. He’s my mom’s best friend, and everything that happened with Ventus…” Lauriam just shook his head a little. “I think there’s a part of him that feels like he betrayed her? Even if he knows there’s not really anything else he could’ve done.”

“But I don’t think that’s the whole, or even really the majority of how he feels about his place in the group,” Lauriam hummed softly. “His friendship with Xaldin and my parents has always been super solid, so that’s a big cornerstone, and outside of drinking he’s always tried to be there for people, giving advice or offering up a fun distraction, or just listening, I guess? And I think that’s something he feels proud about. He’s not as aggressive about it as some of us can be, but he’s done a lot to protect us, and I think there’s…or was, at least, sort of a sense of purpose in that. Like…liking doing something that’s helpful.”

“But it wasn’t that long ago that everyone connected to your mind-link was actively, mentally impaired because of him,” Dr. Mariah reminded Lauriam, “Certainly that would make him a burden, if nothing else? He causes real harm to you all, en mass, in a way where someone has to go ‘deal with him to the benefit of everyone else.”

Lauriam shifted uncomfortably, his mouth wobbling. “...alcoholism is really tough. He’s getting help.”

“So are you,” Marluxia countered dryly.

“I’m not trying to get you to insult someone you care about,” Dr. Mariah explained, “I’m trying to impress upon you perspective. You place a great deal of importance on how you are incredibly difficult to navigate, you are emotionally explosive, you are dangerous or you are ‘damaged’.”

“But you’re not. Or, if you are, it’s not some specific, individual flaw in you that’s entirely unique.” Dr. Mariah said, “And it’s important to understand that, because when you’re trying to justify to yourself why others are ‘putting up with’ what you’re struggling with, you have to remember it’s for the same reasons you put up with their issues as well. It’s an exchange, and not an unequal one. You support them because they support you. The same way they support each other.”

It wasn’t exactly the first time Lauriam had heard that, but there was still a sense of wrongness to it that kept him from fully absorbing it. Like, yes, he wasn’t just a drain on his family’s good will, he did things that were helpful, he accepted his family’s flaws and struggles because he cared about them. 

…but Luis making everyone tipsy because he was struggling in rehab didn’t feel the same as Lauriam endangering all their lives because he couldn’t get his emotions under control. He didn’t know how to say that without just rehashing things they had already talked about. 

“You’re not uniquely unworthy of care, or love,” Marluxia sighed, “Get over yourself. Demand it and don’t simper over ‘worthiness’, who cares what people deserve? Just take what you want, you goober.”

“I want to stop hurting and worrying people,” Lauriam muttered lowly, “That’s not exactly something I can ‘take’.”

“Again, you’re already working on that,” Dr. Mariah said, “Just give yourself more grace for the difficulty in it. You’re not the only person struggling with it. You’re just…” she smiled lightly, mildly amused with her own thought process, “...the main character in your own life. It seems like it’s ‘always you’ because, again, you are always aware of yourself. It can give you more realistic expectations of yourself, if you can broaden your perception to the others as well. Luis made you drunk the same day you were hallucinating. His issues, in fact, took more attention to deal with than yours, that day, based on my understanding of how it was dealt with. You are not the problem. You are simply someone also having problems.”

…well. He supposed so. 

“Always me because I’m always aware of me,” Lauriam softly repeated, something more accepting in his voice as he did…though he soon quietly mumbled, “Though hallucinating shouldn’t take attention. Just shouldn’t’ve gone out.”

“Accept help, dweeb, you’re getting it!” Marluxia huffed, pinching his cheek.

Dr. Mariah sighed, “Marluxia, please refrain at least a little from touching Lauriam during these sessions. I know I can’t really stop the little comforting moments you all make to each other, but harm feels like a logical place to draw the line.”

Marluxia blinked before puffing himself up in offense. “It’s my body too!”

“It is. But that’s not what you’re doing, when you’re making those motions,” Dr. Mariah said, “You’re not pinching your cheek to have an affect on you, you’re doing it to have an affect on him. There needs to be boundaries and understandings about that. Likely you two already have some that haven’t been discussed, but will seem ‘inherently correct’ to you both that it doesn’t need bringing up. But the limits that feel inherent aren’t the only ones needed.”

“I don’t mind it,” Lauriam spoke up, a little unsure if he was allowed to, but he smiled softly as he explained, “It’s kind of nice? It’s been a little while but I’m still way more used to, I guess, mainly existing with Marluxia on the island; most of our time spent in the physical world is still kind of weird. It’s nice still having the more tactile parts of spending time with Marluxia even when we’re like this.”

Dr. Mariah aged ten years, which was impressive for someone who looked perpetually 12. “This is going to be very difficult to explain for this particular situation… I need a degree of separation from you both, to ensure individually you aren’t being unfairly influenced by each other.” she explained, “For my physically separate patients, to achieve this I’ll often have them sit at least one seats worth away from each other. I discourage little touches, like reaching over to put a hand on someone’s shoulder, or pressing into their sides. This isn’t to account for extreme situations, like abuse. This is, in fact, to account for the positive feelings these touches can cause. The peace it brings them.”

“Comforting each other during difficult situations outside of the therapy session is good. Encouraged,” she explained, “but not when I’m trying to figure out why a person is unhappy. Especially not when I’m attempting to get them to be honest about their feelings on things, knowing not only that they have an audience, but it's an audience whose opinion they care deeply about. The main reason I even invited you both to this session when in any other situation I’d only allow it for group therapy or relationship counseling, is because Lauriam has a deep fear of saying things that might reveal things about Marluxia’s personal life without him around. And, because you both share a life, that limited him in talking about most things.”

“Wooow, it’s so inconvenient that he’s courteous towards the person he made,” Marluxia drawled, still looking a bit offended. 

“You’re making it sound like I’m shaking in my boots to say anything,” Lauriam sighed, looking a bit embarrassed, “but we can try toning it down…even if I’m not sure that it interferes that much with explanations. I don’t really feel like I self-censor for Marluxia’s sake--it’d kind of be like saying that you can’t think certain things while you’re awake. There are certain things we’ve done for privacy, but at the end of the day our thoughts are still floating around the same brain, and we’ve merged one way or another enough that it’s…kinda…”

“All paintwater,” Marluxia snorted. “Multiple things can be true, yes? We can fully acknowledge all the ways we’re entirely separate feelings with our own thoughts and feelings and problems…while also remembering we’re kind of the same guy.”

Dr. Mariah gave them an honestly curious look. The question genuine as she asked, “So you two don’t have differing views?”

“No, we do,” Marluxia nodded sagely. 

“But don’t a lot of people?” Lauriam raised an eyebrow. “People self-contradict constantly. And it’s more like…I don’t really hide things from Marluxia. It’d feel like lobotomizing myself, honestly.”

“Anyone not saying what they mean is wasting my time.” Marluxia stuck his tongue out.

“...”

Was this something she even really wanted to argue?

Dr. Mariah considered her options. Asking them ‘what would you do if one person was attracted to someone the other wasn’t’ could potentially lead to the discussions of boundaries and talking things through that she wanted, but the two were literally dating the equivalent of themselves in another two people. They both likely got horny at the same time sharing the same body, and likely shared the same ideas of when it was and wasn’t appropriate to indulge in that feeling. They likely considered their desires to fight other people or put themselves in danger as something they’d of course work through about in the moment and didn’t need to consider it beforehand.

This was the issue of letting co-dependent people do therapy together. They were just going to echoe each other anyway. This wasn’t an argument Dr. Mariah could win, and she didn’t think she could make progress on it either. 

“I suppose that makes sense,” she lied, moving on, “Though I’d still appreciate you restraining yourself even in playful harm while in therapy, if only for my comfort. Though, on the subject of self-harm, I feel the need to ask: how have things been since the hallucination episode? Has there been any more compulsions to self-harm?”

It likely wasn’t something either of them realized, the way Dr. Mariah had briefly become An Enemy. Not a dangerous one, and a term more like Opponent would probably be more truthful. But, just as self-contradictory as Lauriam had noted human nature to be, they had both honed in on a common goal in debating their therapist. Marluxia entirely omitting the desperate and hurt feelings he’d once pleaded to Xaldin in a show of vulnerability, almost begging him to acknowledge him as something outside of Lauriam. Lauriam just straight up lying about all the things he’d never bothered to tell Marluxia that his Chibi would have to go searching for to ever find. 

They’d never been accused of being straight forward or simple. 

Still, even subconsciously riding the high of a won debate, Lauriam almost immediately wilted, looking highly uncomfortable with the question of self-harm. Rubbing his arm lightly, he assured, “I-I really haven’t done that before, it’s not, like, a thing with me.”

“Outside of trying to kill yourself,” Marluxia grouched, maybe not as harshly as he otherwise would’ve, considering the sore spot that had become from Kaito’s comments recently, “But nah, he’s been squeaky clean since.”

“Suicidal ideation can form into a variety of different ideas of what an attempt can look like,” Dr. Mariah mused, “It sounds like yours is very physical. I know a little of your attempt to induce alcohol poisoning, though not much beyond that. Would you be alright explaining to me what your self-harm looks like in that lens?”

For a moment Lauriam looked a little confused about her question (‘looks’ like, or looked like???) before the shame superceded it and he looked down. “I wasn’t trying to poison myself, I barely understood what alcohol poisoning was, or how it worked. I just…” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I just didn’t want to have to think anymore. I didn’t want to have to think or feel or anything, and I knew alcohol could do that. So I asked the bartender in Luis’ world for the strongest bottle he had and hid under one of the card tables.”

“Then you got so drunk we stopped breathing,” Marluxia muttered lowly.

“Again, suicidal ideation can take many forms.” Dr. Mariah said, “But Marluxia mentioned that that your form of self-harm is often suicidal in nature. What are some other examples of your patterns?”

“The…other two times I tried to kill myself,” Lauriam said slowly, feeling like he still wasn’t entirely understanding what Dr. Mariah was asking. “We, um…talked about the drugs I tried, and when the supervisors were trying to take me to the castle initially, I kept asking them to kill me and would try to aim myself towards any weapons they had out.” He winced to himself. “They, uh, they switched to just using hands pretty quickly.”

“I see…” Dr. Marluxia considered the ethics of her next question…before asking, “Marluxia, do you have any observations on these three incidents? Any patterns you’d recognize?”

“I feel like ‘not wanting to live’ is a bit obvious,” he drawled, before green eyes darted to the side for a moment. A displeased frown twisting Marluxia’s lips before he tsked. 

“First happened seconds after Strelitiza was killed,” he counted off, “Second like, I dunno, maybe an hour after he was raped. Third, a few months after Dad was killed. And you can take your fucking pick about who ‘died’ before he talked to Vexen about feeling suicidal.”

“So… it might be correct to say ‘grief’ makes you feel suicidal,” Dr. Mariah said, “Though, that might be too simple a conclusion to come to. I wouldn’t suggest it was ‘big’ emotions in general. Unless perhaps you had a heavy spike of emotion for the incident after your father, just after some time? Tell me more about that one.”

Lauriam let out a heavy sigh and was quiet for some time. Feeling like he needed the upright side of the lounge for support, for a moment just feeling the warmth of the sun on him. 

“...it was really hard, after Dad died. No one really thinks the supervisors meant to do it, but it still felt like a sort of…truce had been broken between us. They could beat us, trap us, humiliate us…but at least they wouldn’t kill us. But they did.” Lauriam traced the shadows of some of the plants behind him with his eyes. “Most of the motivation to not lash out at the supervisors was for retaliation. We couldn’t win in a way that mattered, so it was more important to keep everyone safe. But if we weren’t safe, if they’d hurt us no matter what…”

Lauriam curled into himself with tension. “...sorry, that’s not really part of it. Um… Mars basically had to keep our mind from collapsing by himself, while I was just…dangerous. And after that, he needed to recover, and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything, then Mom lost it and made Terra… It was hard. And there was just a point where I felt like I just couldn’t do it anymore. Anything. It felt like how things were was forever, and I couldn’t deal with that. So I wanted it to stop.”

“Oh, I see. So there was a fresh new spike of emotion,” Dr. Mariah said, “Your mothers breakdown must have been hard to watch.”

“Mom’s always been incredible. The strongest person I know.” Lauriam smiled weakly. “If you want to feel safe, there’s no better person to turn to.” 

Marluxia snorted softly, a fond smile on his face. “She never got caught, did you know? Dad went missing and Mom fucking broke into the factory to find him. We used to have this joke that the factory had better security than the king’s quarters, and after hearing about the castle now, I think that’s actually true. Just a shitty fact that it’s harder to be a total badass when you have people to cover.”

Lauriam held onto that smile for a moment before taking a deep, shaky breath. “That’s just the tiniest insight into how much Dad’s death affected Mom. Watching her go around with Terra, acting like he never died, acting like she didn’t know who Aaxqu was…” Lauriam clasped his hands in his lap, trying to stop them from shaking. “...when we didn’t know what was happening, Mom telling me to open our door was the first time I’d ever been scared of her. But seeing her pretend like nothing happened was…worse.”

“Watching someone we love–someone we trust and depend on–have a serious mental episode is an incredibly difficult experience, no matter who you are,” Dr. Mariah said gently, “I don’t think there’s ever true preparing for the first time you see it, and especially if you weren’t aware of the signs warning you it was coming. It’s understandable you had difficulty coping with it.”

“But, I think we can now say your pattern for suicidal ideation is high stress-emotions, but specifically connected to some form of grief,” Dr. Mariah said, “I specify, because it’s not anger that drives your ideations, not vengeance or even sadness. Some are even inspired by boredom. But yours seem to be connected to heightened moments of extreme grief.”

“That can be useful to know,” Dr. Mariah explained, “It means that during moments where one can expect you to be feeling that way? Your support network will know they need to check in on you and be vigilant, since that is when you are most at risk.”

Lauriam wrung his hands in mild distress for a few moments, clearly sitting on some words. And eventually they came out, as he insecurely tried, “But…if it’s grief, then they’ll probably be grieving too.”

“Not to the point of being zombified,” Marluxia said. His voice wasn’t dismissive or annoyed, like his tones could be when arguing Lauriam’s shit. Instead there was something a little tense in it, something more considering. 

That useful knowledge pertaining quite a bit to him. 

“Even with their own shit to deal with, they can still do shit knowing that you’re in danger.”

“Apologies, I believe I’m following what you two are discussing, but clarify for me anyway.” Dr. Mariah said, “‘they’?”

Lauriam glanced up, confusion written on his face. “My family?”

Who else would be his ‘support network’?

(Even if Dr. Mariah had recently pointed out that they weren’t exactly the best at supporting him. Had specifically said that they’d failed him. Dilan recently mentioning that even when they found good coping mechanisms, they just didn’t really use them.)

“Ah. It’s an understandable fear, that there’s… I suppose a way to phrase it is ‘a limit of comfort to go around’. Compassion can feel like a finite resource, especially during intense periods where a lot of people are affected,” Dr. Mariah said, “But this why it’s always important to have multiple people in your life who you can rely on, emotionally, during stressful times. Yes, when you’re grieving and are at risk of danger, you’ll likely need more attention from someone who’s grieving themselves, and it’s unlikely you in that state will be able to comfort them in a similar way at that moment.”

“But,” Dr. Mariah said, “That’s why they should also have someone else in their life who is ready to comfort them at a different time. And as tricky as that sounds summarized, most people do have that balance of relationships. The person they primarily comfort during difficult times is not the same person they go to for comfort. They can delay their own grief for a time, so long as they can address and process it later with someone else. It sounds cold, when logically put out there like that, but it’s also just how it usually works, socially. There are tradeoffs in every relationship dynamic, and sometimes that tradeoff is, essentially, taking turns with emotions. So long as everyone gets their turn, eventually? It’s actually a fairly healthy dynamic.”

There were exceptions, but Dr. Mariah honestly considered those exceptions to be the same thing, but within a different framework. ‘Grieving together’ was also a very healthy dynamic, so long as no one a part of it was actually in danger from that grief. The softer side of grieving, when it was just being with someone else and expressing that hurt to each other, showing you weren’t in it alone.

This wasn’t that though. This was breakdown grief, where someone was falling apart. Another person expressing their own grief in that moment likely wouldn’t help the person falling apart, so for their safety, a pause needed to happen. Sometimes shared grieving actually negated breakdown grief, and in that case Dr. Mariah would be arguing for it first. She likely would bring it up to Marluxia and Lauriam at some point in the future as well, that it could negate the stress of grief enough to stop a breakdown. 

But it was more important in this moment to let Lauriam accept that it was okay for his breakdowns to take more attention in that moment, when he needed it, because it was specifically breakdown grief they were discussing. When things were at their limit, he needed to accept help. The person getting help would in turn be helped by someone later. That was okay. It was normal.

…there wasn’t really any other way to express his feelings on that other than ‘that doesn’t feel fair, and I don’t want to’, was there? 

It didn’t feel right that someone needed to delay or push down their own pain because of him. His emotions once again being so loud no one else was allowed to feel anything. But Dr. Mariah was saying that that exact concept was fine, as long as they got to feel what they needed to later. 

“...it makes me feel like a jerk to ask that,” Lauriam admitted, just giving up trying to argue in any more eloquent way. 

“If it doesn’t feel fair, when you’re not the person who needs it, offer it to someone else,” Dr. Mariah said simply, “I know it doesn’t feel right to ask someone to put themselves aside when you’re feeling dangerously low, but again, I’m asking you to try to empathise, to perceive it from someone outside of yourself. If someone else–let’s say if Marluxia–was breaking down and needed your support? Not just your support, but for you to be a pillar that he could hold onto, something to keep him from losing himself… would you feel ‘okay’ saying ‘actually, could we focus on me now, I also feel a bit bad about this and you’re taking up too much space right now’?”

Lauriam’s eyes widened. “No! But that’s what it feels like in the first scenario.” He let out a breath. “Axel said that if I feel like a burden, then I should just try doing things for other people more. So it feels more fair. And I want to, I want to try…but it always just feels like I make things about myself, like I’m taking too much, like I’m too loud. But even trying to be quiet, I’m too loud.”

“That’s an interesting contradiction, that last bit. You’re too loud even when you’re quiet?” Dr. Mariah asked, “Explain that one more to me.”

“Trying to be quiet,” Lauriam emphasized before he sighed. “If I try to be there for other people, listen to their concerns, I always find some point to be upset about. If I keep to myself, everyone’s just worried about the next explosion that’ll come out of nowhere. I can muffle screams or stifle sobs, but I can’t hide how I’m actually feeling. The only way I’d ever be quiet enough is if I didn’t feel anything, but that’s its own whole host of issues.”

“You don’t have to be unaffected to hear out someone else's grief. It’s simply prioritizing someone else's feelings, for that moment, over your own. Which I’m certain you’re more familiar with then you realize at this moment,” Dr. Mariah said, “People wouldn’t confide in you, if there was nothing comforting in the process. The fact that you have examples you’re likely picturing now of when you weren’t ‘enough’ in that moment, is likely the proof itself that you were. If not comforting someone through a breakdown, then at least in shared grief, which can be a very cathartic feeling for someone who wasn’t battling a breakdown in that moment to begin with. If neither of you are breaking down? But you’re sharing a sad moment? That’s useful too.”

“But it’s unrealistic to say every encounter is going to be a peaceful moment of ‘shared grief’, where neither of you are in danger in your grief,” Dr. Mariah said, “And it’s okay to accept help when that’s happening to you, so long as you keep that in mind when someone needs it from you. It’s a kindness.”

“You’re just spiraling, La-La,” Marluxia said bluntly, but not unkindly, “Sky-high said it before too, no? You do plenty for other people, and that includes being there for them emotionally. I wish you would fuckin’ stop convincing yourself that you need to make up for being you.”

Lauriam let go of a slow breath. “...this is hard.”

“It is,” Dr. Mariah agreed, “Analyzing yourself, your habits, your place in the world, and all the ways you’ve never conceptualized those things before? Is hard. Also being nice to yourself is hard. It’s much easier to just stick to our patterns and let them guide us through life, right or wrong, helpful or destructive.”

“You’ve made a very difficult choice, wanting to understand why you do things, wanting to change things to make things better for others, for yourself. Even in a very therapy-positive place like Dicea? Very few people actually choose that. Fewer still commit.” Dr. Mariah said, “It’s admirable. It’s you prioritizing other people's feelings over your own. I don’t think you’d be here, if it was just for you. You do help others.”

Lauriam flushed a bit, glancing down. “I mean, not feeling like crap all the time is a big motivator. But I gave up just caring about my own feelings a long time ago. I want to be better so there isn’t just this pit in the rest of my family’s heads. So I’m not an anchor Marluxia has to swim twice as hard against.”

“Cute~” Marluxia cooed. “You loooooove us~”

“They’re good goals,” Dr. Mariah assured, “We’re coming close to the end of our session. Is there anything on either of your minds? You’re also going to therapy, Marluxia. It’s alright for you to bring up concerns as well.”

“Full disclosure, it’s way not a ‘let’s discuss this reasonably and peel back motivations’ kind of thing,” Marluxia prefaced. 

Before he suddenly managed to drape himself longways over the whole lounge chair, groaning dramatically. “I miss our boyfriiiiiiiiiiiends!!” he moaned despairingly into the velvet, hands hanging lifelessly in the air off the edge of the upright section. “It’s still gonna be MONTHS!!!”

“Ah, right. How is that situation going, in Luminary?” Dr. Mariah asked. “Are there any concerns there, about your brother? It seems they’re taking it slowly.”

“Like a snail crawl,” Marluxia sniffed miserably. “Ventus comes by the island sometimes, Mom’s been giving him fighting tips when they’re not doin’ mother-son bonding, ‘Enzy’s training his Empathy, he’s part of that big game Amaina’s putting on… He hasn’t really said one way or another if he wants to leave the capital with them.”

Marluxia pouted a bit at that. It seemed like the simplest decision ever to him. Kid didn’t even like the rat bastards that stole him. 

(None of the living ones, anyway.)

“But it’s not just about Ven, now,” he sighed, “‘Enzy’s a fuckin’ mess about the court stuff and if it’s not a GTFO sitch, he really doesn’t want to leave in the middle of the case and, like, make people suspicious of whatever. And since Luis is in rehab, apparently it can be dangerous for him to leave in the middle of ‘treatment’, so we’re almost definitely waiting for his release.”

Marluxia squished his cheek against the lounge, pouting. “Di’s fascinated about the old city, so that’s always cool. Hey, any flags raised to you he hasn’t fucked either of us yet?”

Lauriam made a choked sound, a blush rising on his face even if Marluxia’s disgruntlement soon returned. 

“Not necessarily,” Dr. Mariah said, unphased, “Di is ‘Dilan’, yes? I couldn’t say one way or another without knowing more about the man, but there’s quite a few normal reasons to not have moved into the sexual part of your relationship. That said, are you concerned that he hasn’t initiated something?”

“Mhmm~” Marluxia hummed, both confirming Dilan’s identity and…some of his concern. “Di’s super religious, like super duper ultra religious. It’s not like he’s never had a casual romp, but in general sex means shit to him.”

Marluxia’s eyes lowered a little, lashes casting tiny shadows on his squished cheek. “He’s fooled around with us ever since that whole shit started. Will fuckin’ kiss us all day. But he ran away when Lauriam asked to have sex. And our ultimatum was to commit. No more leaving things vague and unsaid, no more fooling around, he’s either our boyfriend or he’s not, and he chose to commit.”

“...what if he thinks I’m not worth committing to all the way?” Marluxia asked quietly. Feeling Lauriam’s surprise, then snuggle of comfort in his mind. 

“Hmm… I still couldn’t guess,” Dr. Mariah said, “But likely this is a conversation you need to have with him. Are you hoping he will sleep with you at some point? Or is it more about concern of wanting to understand why he hasn’t yet?”

“I don’t know!” Marluxia huffed, squishing more into the lounge. His voice all but entirely empty of its usual haughtiness. “I know he likes me! And we made it crystal fucking clear that I’m not just some ‘come hither’ casual fling. He gets all flustered and affronted when Xal’s affectionate with us, but that’s just his weird-ass issues with Xaldin, not an aversion to touch or intimacy or anything, so…why?”

“Hmmm… what’s the fear?” Dr. Mariah asked, “Your worst-case scenario.”

Marluxia’s jaw set tensely for a moment…

Before to Lauriam’s internal horror, it wobbled. 

“...what if he doesn’t think I’m real, and he’s just been lying to me forever?” Marluxia asked softly, tears welling in his eyes. “I know he hasn’t slept with Lauriam either so that’s dumb and it doesn’t make sense, but he’s such a dick about the Nobody stuff…except when he talks to me. What if he just lied?”

Again, Dr. Mariah considered the ethics of her choices– “Lauriam?” Dr. Mariah asked, “What do you think?”

For a few moments, it was quiet, except for the soft sounds of Marluxia trying and not entirely succeeding to calm his tears down. And it continued to be quiet, before there was a very tentative nudge against Dr. Mariah’s mind. 

{Um, sorry.}

{...Mars, I don’t think he’s lying. Dilan’s got issues, sure, sure, but he adores you, and I don’t think that you being a Nobody has ever diminished that. I can’t really say why he hasn’t slept with either of us. I think we might’ve gotten close once, but he got overwhelmed. Said he felt too ‘sinful’ and it was too much for him. I think it’s just something he needs to work through, and it’s not because of you or me.}

-

O_O

Ò_Ó

-

Ò_Ó {Dilan you need. To talk. To Marluxia.}

“Eh?” Dilan startled, looking up from the map he was reading of the latest sewer system he was about to explore in Luminary, his helmet shifting around his head, “What?” {What??}

ò_ó {Look, I don’t know the full context, that is your job when you talk to your boyfriend, but I’m pretty sure Lauriam is trying to assure Marluxia right now that you don’t hate him for being a Nobody.}

Ò_Ó {UNCLE DILAN, WHY DOES HE NEED TO BE ASSURED OF THAT?}

“Motherfucking nani?” Dilan whispered, sweating a bit as Zexion got, not necessarily ‘loud’, but bigger in his mind, {I don’t know?? I haven’t talked to him since wishing them a good night last night. Maybe Xaldin said something to upset him today? I’ll check in.}

ò_ó {I highly doubt Uncle Xaldin would say something to the extent of making Marluxia of all people doubt the years of history you have together.}

ò^ó {So you better check in. If I have one more night listening to one of them despair in heartbreak over you two, you’re getting nightmares until forever.}

ò_ó {Or I’ll have Ienzo tell Eimhin that you love chestnut pastries so he’ll bring nothing but them next time he tries to talk to you about archeology and give you expectant puppy dog eyes so you’ll be obligated to eat them.}

“Chestnuts are gross and uninspired.” Dilan muttered, folding his map and frowning at the wall opposite of him in the alley he was crouched in, “Also, are you and Ienzo currently in court? Focus on your own things, I’ll talk to Marluxia when I have a moment.”

ㅍpㅍ凸

-

‘Sinful’ was a… well, that was a loaded word, for certain people. But also an archaic word? For a moment, Dr. Mariah had thought she had misheard him, before realizing she literally couldn’t. Sinful…a concept of the old gods. Red Horned Rams time, and for the most part, buried with him and the other gods that had fallen and been replaced in the turning of the millenia.

Why would someone who worshiped Atua even use that word? It was antithetical to their teachings. Yes, the concept you could do ‘wrong’ was a thing in Atua, but that wasn’t what their trials were about. It was about understanding yourself and other people well enough that when you got to Atua’s slice of the afterlife, you could actually enjoy ‘paradise’ with the others who lived there, without recreating all the same mistakes you made that made you unhappy in the world, letting you relax until you were ready to let go. It wasn’t punishing sins, so much as making you confront ways you made yourself, or others, unhappy. And convincing you it mattered before you were let back into the crowd.

It wasn’t a perfect system. Dr. Mariah personally didn’t love the idea of being trapped in an endless cycle of challenges to do what she believed therapy could achieve. But it was an opt-in, opt-out system, and she’d never see a trial herself. Atua was a god of love, who agonized over the happiness of people. ‘Sin’ just… wasn’t in their vocabulary. 

‘Sin’ was for the likes of the purity folk. For demons and angels. And it was mostly based on specific rules and laws of those divine creatures, where the happiness of others was not a factor. Again, not an Atuan concept. So why…

“There’s a bit of an age difference between you both and Xaldin and Dilan,” Dr. Mariah said, “Perhaps Dilan hasn’t quite moved past it? But a conversation with him would clear that up faster than speculation.”

“I guess,” Marluxia muttered, giving one harsh sniffle before he scoffed and frustratedly wiped his eyes. “Xal was still fucked up over it when you two were first really talking things out. Maybe Di is too.”

It really did feel like they’d talked about it to death, though, over the past six, seven years. And Marluxia felt like their ultimatum really should’ve been it. No more wishy-washy uncertainties about how people felt and what they wanted. 

Dilan was sweet, Marluxia loved being held by him, trading flirts, sharing kisses…

But Dilan hadn’t even glanced against the thing that meant something deeply personal to him. Sure, maybe Marluxia didn’t really believe in the point of sending his prayers in the form of love to Atua, but Dilan did and if he didn’t think Marluxia was worth being with in the eyes of the god Dilan was devoted to…

“This sucks,” Marluxia groaned against the lounge, “I want them to be here already.”

“The time will pass,” Dr. Mariah assured, “And I imagine you still see them in your mental connection.”

“Yeah,” Marluxia pouted, “It’s why I haven’t actually torn the roads apart yet. But everyone knows it’s different in the physical world. I love being able to chat about how our days were and hang out in our worlds like we always have…but I just want to see everyone again.”

“It is a bit out of my range of experiences,” Dr. Mariah confessed, “But I’ll take your word for it. Well, how about I make that your homework assignment. Have that conversation with Dilan, get it all cleared up and in the air by the time you all see them again in person.”

“Think you’d have fun in a psychic plane,” Marluxia smirked, woefully pushing himself back upright, “Could be twice as ostentatious as physically possible out here.”

Mumbling disgruntledly about how ‘they’d have plenty of time for that’, Lauriam sent, {See you in a few days, then, and thank you for taste testing. Hopefully my next batch will be more purposeful.}

-

“Xaldin, what did you say to them–”

“If I have to tell you that I have no fucking clue was Zexion was on about one more time, I’m gonna take over the body and break our nose against a wall, Dilan, swear to your damn god I will.” Xaldin huffed, lounging up on the upper rafters of one of the archaeological sites beams around the crypt walls, Dilan glaring at him from the ground below as Xaldin carved into something in his palm, “You’re always talking out of your ass, you probably forgot insulting him the other day or something.”

“I don’t insult Marluxia, we’re dating. I’m not you.” Dilan frowned, “I don’t take any pleasure out of hurting loved ones.”

“Crazy, coulda fooled me.” Xaldin muttered, flicking his carving knife to brush the shards off.

“What are you doing anyway? What are you mimicking?”

“‘Mimicking’, I’m just… saw those carving of bones down there today, like you. Thought it’d be fun to try.”

“You’re not really trying anything. You’re just imagining it.”

“Hey, maybe you should go talk to Marluxia? That’s a crazy idea, right? Go talk to the guy who’s pissed at you, rather than trying to figure out a way it’s my fault? Yeah? Go.”

Dilan frowned at Xaldin… before huffing. Heading out of the world. Whatever, he would go talk to Marluxia, thank you very much. Go carve a real bone, it’s not like Dilan wouldn’t let him use the body if he wanted to try stuff. Why waste time pretending he was learning?

Dilan knocked on the garden duo’s door, before heading in. “Marluxia?”

Marluxia looked over in surprise as Dilan walked in. 

They had been…tired, getting back home. Marluxia had griped about how bullshit it was, Lauriam had wisely kept to himself that being so emotional they started to cry would wipe anyone out, and so they’d eaten a sausage bun and Lauriam had plopped down on his couch with his balcony door open, decompressing with some embroidery. 

And Marluxia had chosen to do the same by watering the plants in their world. A few water droplets still trickled out of his large watering can as he turned to face Dilan, but that stillness was only for a moment before Marluxia’s face lit up. 

Tossing the can into nothingness, he jogged over. “Heeeeey, cutie~ What kind of luck did I pull, getting a day visit~?”

Dilan smiled lightly, opening his arms and pulling Marluxia into a greeting hug, “Hey. I can’t say I just ‘wanted to stop by’, but it’s nice to see you today. Though, I’m already doubting why I’m here. You don’t seem mad at me…?”

Marluxia gleefully squeezed Dilan back in the hug, though…uh…

???what???

Pulling back slightly, Marluxia gave him a puzzled look. “How…did you…? There’s no way La-La sent you a message or something, he’s max-slugging right now.”

“Zexion,” Dilan explained, letting Marluxia pull back as he looked him over, looking for signs of distress as he pouted a bit, “So, is he right? You are mad at me? He said something about you being worried I didn’t love you for being a Nobody… I hope you don’t think that’s true?”

Marluxia’s jaw twitched in irritation, already starting to glower over that little nosy twerp before he jolted, looking at Dilan in alarm as the idea he had of things was, uh…incredibly spot on. That was more than Zexion just getting a vibe check, this was…

“Ugh, that dorky asshole, didn’t he get the memo those sessions are private?”

But Zexion wasn’t in front of him now. And Marluxia did need to talk to Dilan. 

Letting out irritation with a sigh, Marluxia just looked at his boyfriend for a moment. “I’m not mad, I just… We settled things before, right? I’m not a hot bod and quick smooch to get your rocks off to, we’re together together. Right?”

“...yes?” Dilan said, raising a thick eyebrow as he gave Marluxia a slightly bewildered look, “Was that what was upsetting you? No, I have no desire to… use you? As a Nobody? I hope I haven’t come across as someone who reduces certain people to sex objects. If I have, how??”

“No, just--” Marluxia fixed Dilan with a frustrated, slightly desperate look, “You haven’t even hinted at wanting to have sex with me. We spend time together, do lovey-dovey shit, and that’s great! Awesome, I love it. But…”

“Sex matters to you, Di,” he said more softly, “Why don’t you want to do it with me?”

“........” Dilan squinted at Marluxia, “I feel like therapy is putting weird ideas into your head again. Marluxia, we haven’t been physically together since we got together. I mean, certainly, we could be doing… things here,” Dilan said, a touch bashfully, as he looked around the garden, “The way you and Xaldin and Lauriam do. But I’m not sure if that would count as worship to Atua. I guess technically there’s nothing dictating it, but I don’t think imagining having sex together counts as an act of worship. It’d just… purely  be pleasure.”

“But when we can offer worship? Of course I want to worship with you…”

Marluxia’s expression softened a bit at that, exactly the kind of reassurance he wanted, but…

He trailed his hands down Dilan’s arms, curling his fingers around the sides of his hands. “...this is all we have for now. For months. Di, I haven’t even seen you in person for over a year. I know it’s different in the physical world. But, I dunno, it feels like more than a daydream to me. This is the closest we can be right now, the only way we can spend time together, and that matters. The structure of the world might be constructed, but we’re still talking. That’s anything but fake.”

“...this doesn’t feel fake, does it?”

(Concentrating, Marluxia pushed into Dilan’s mind, casting a phantom touch onto his physical body as he gave his hands a squeeze.)

Dilan shivered at the sudden, phantom limb grazing against him. In the real world, suddenly standing up from the sitting area and announcing a tad awkwardly to the others that he was going to be upstairs for a bit in his room.

It wasn’t like Marluxia has touched anywhere in particular. Just holding his hands. But it had felt bizarre, to just sit there and suddenly get that strange sensation of pseudo-warmth and pressure against his palms. Alarming in its unexpected surprise, as Dilan retreated to the safety of his room.

In the garden, he sighed, “...no? I mean… what’s real and isn’t is certainly complicated, for us, but no, that felt physical, to me…” Dilan frowned, staring uneasily down at their interlocked hands, “...I don’t want to use you as a thing for pleasure though. I know Xaldin has entirely moved past that point quite some time ago, but I still… worry about that particular motivation. I’d like to prove I love you, first, if I can…”

“You wouldn’t be using me,” Marluxia snorted, “What, like you’ve never had fun with someone without calling it social manipulation? I get not wanting to worship until we can be together physically. But I don’t think having sex not for worship is, like…detrimental to anyone. It’s just affection.”

“And you don’t need to prove love,” he sighed, leaning in to bop his head against Dilan’s shoulder before turning and smiling affectionately up at Dilan, “I’m not that much of a skeptic, I know you do. You can just love, without it being a pissing contest of performance.”

Marluxia stuck his tongue out. “...but I still want dates when we’re together again. You’re not getting out of that just because we started long-distance.”

“I know, I know, and it’s not really…” Dilan sighed, reaching up to lightly pet Marluxia’s cheek, “...I didn’t treat you well, Marluxia, when we first started… when we started. I’m trying not to use you now, because calling what I did back then anything other than using you is simply… I’m still ashamed of it. Those damn hideaways in that damn closet… I’m disgusted with myself, when I think about it now. You deserved better than secret makeout sessions with someone too ashamed to be with you because I was trying to prove I wasn’t a pedophile to your–our–family, meanwhile I’m having secret makeout sessions with you at the exact same time.”

Dilan huffed, face scrunching in frustration as he remembered all of that, “And then what I almost did with Lauriam… nothing had been figured out, nothing had been resolved. I was just chasing pleasure, like an animal. I felt… incredibly guilty, through all of that. And I need to make amends for it. If not for you, for my own peace of mind. So I don’t fall back into that guilt-chasing mindset.”

“They weren’t that secret,” Marluxia grumbled, though he let out a soft sigh, tilting his face into Dilan’s touch. “It’s not like I was trying to put a name to anything either. It was easier just sucking face with you and not having to think about what it meant or any consequences. Still not great overall, I guess, but if you ‘used’ me then, don’t think it was one-sided--I was using you the same way.”

…but there really wasn’t any resolution or equality in what he did to Lauriam. 

“Look, he told me you guys talked that out. So if you really want to make amends?” Marluxia shoved Dilan with his shoulder. “I’ll only say this once, in this context, so treasure it: Don’t treat me like an arbiter or a priestess you need to perform penance for to make it count. That’s just using me on the opposite end of the spectrum. Just treat me like your boyfriend, love me, do things that feel good instead of acting like feeling bad is the only thing that makes you a good person. It’s not, it’s just shitty and makes us all miserable.”

Dilan chuckled lightly at the shove, wrapping his arms around Marluxia’s hips and, using the momentum he put into it, lightly spinning him around into a small dip, before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss against his lips, “...I’ll try. It’s certainly not like I’m not tempted. I’m always tempted… I just don’t want to act like a fool, chasing you, to the point where that’s all I’m doing. I want to love you first. Then I’d like to… do more than worship, even.”

“Besides,” Dilan huffed, pulling Marluxia back into a standing position, “Xaldin is certainly making up for my absence. I’m distinctly aware of that. The man certainly has never had my reservations.”

Marluxia grinned as he clamped down on what was surely an embarrassing giggle, though by the way he was looking at Dilan like he was the only thing in the world, he really wasn’t being all that sly. Holding onto Dilan’s shoulders as he swung him around, Marluxia enthusiastically kissed back. “Aw, c’mon, you can’t tease something like that!” he laughed. “It already sucks missing you, you’re gonna make the wait agonizing.”

“Though, Xal has plenty of reservations.” Marluxia rolled his eyes at that…before he paused. Fixing Dilan with a curious look for a moment before he gave his boyfriend a smirk. “...did you know that we never did anything while you and La-La were asleep? Think he only ever kissed me once, as a goodbye.”

The smirk got shittier. 

“He thought it was unfair to make me fall in love with someone who wouldn’t always be there, as if he could make me do anything. Said he didn’t want to make things difficult when La-La woke up and would somehow suddenly feel nothing for him, that it was kinder not to preempt any heartbreak. What a sappy guy, huh?”

Dilan gave Marluxia a baffled, somewhat non-believing look… before he frowned, “Xaldin? Really? That’s not really like him. That man just takes whatever he wants. I’ve never seen him hesitate to do anything.”

“Wroooong~” Marluxia sang, starting to push Dilan’s shoulders to sway him side to side. “That man is one of the most ‘in his head’ people I’ve ever met, and you know the nutcases we’re surrounded by. He desperately wants to do right by people--he just doesn’t debate options back and forth forever like you do. He just chooses what he thinks is right, and, damn, if it’s wrong, then he’ll apologize and do better next time.”

“Outside of conditioning?” Marluxia raised an eyebrow, what he thought was a very obvious ‘which isn’t a reflection of the people we are at all, socially’ implied, “Xal’s never taken a damn thing someone isn’t shouting to the fucking sky they want to give. And he gives double that himself.”

…Dilan could admit, he felt a hint of jealousy at that. 

But it wasn’t entirely true. Couldn’t be entirely true. When Dilan had made the decision to not sleep with Lauriam, he had left Xaldin to pick up the pieces, yes… but Xaldin ‘picked up where he left off’ in the worst possible way. Had indulged in the lust Dilan had defied and taken Lauriam’s virginity.

Dilan knew Xaldin and Lauriam had worked through that not long after it had happened. But that didn’t change what Xaldin had done. Maybe he didn’t always take things because he wanted them. But he certainly had that one time. And Dilan had never quite forgiven him for it.

So it was sometimes a little… frustrating, how genuinely happy Lauriam and Marluxia were with Xaldin. Dilan knew he had asked Xaldin to be his conscious, when it came to moral decisions he could talk himself into circles for actual eternity in. But Xaldin had never tried to justify himself to Dilan, regarding what had happened there. And Dilan thought that was because he couldn’t.

…still. It’d be nice if he could make Marluxia, uh, ‘shout to the sky’...

But not now. Especially not because he was jealous.

“...I’m glad you’re happy with him,” Dilan said honestly. That was true. “I’m pleased you don’t feel taken advantage of.”

“Good,” Marluxia sniffed haughtily, “It’d be shitty if you wanted me unhappy.”

“...” Marluxia glanced down, a small huff of air leaving him. 

“...La-La and I went on this whole stance in therapy, about our connection with each other. How Dr. Mariah can’t just shorthand treating us as entirely different people,” Marluxia outlined, before he gave Dilan’s chest a not entirely happy grin. “But, fuckin’, we’ve definitely made some big arguments before to be treated individually. Our whole new mental contract thing is basically on the basis that we’re equals. Equal individuals.”

“...it’s shitty for a lot of reasons, but it sucks listening to you sometimes, talking about Xaldin as a function, as an outcome of predetermined nature, about our worlds as play-pretend.” Marluxia looked to the side, lashes low. “And then have you turn around and just treat me like…a person. I appreciate that, I always have, but sometimes it can feel like you’re playing pretend yourself. I am a Nobody, until recently, this world was my reality. Why…am I different when everything about who I am is stuff that you regularly dismiss?”

Oh. Hmmmm.

Dilan placed a hand gently against Marluxia’s chin, guiding him to look back to him as he said, “Hey, come on now… you’re not ‘fake’, and this isn’t pretend. Me not sure if this place works for worship purposes is more a functional thing, I know the things that happen here matter…”

“And I don’t dismiss Nobodies. Or, if I do, I don’t intend to. I deeply respect Vexen and his ambitions, even the ones that caused him to make questionable choices. If I hadn’t before, which I did, I certainly respected it after finding out he brought you back. I owe Vexen so much.” Dilan whispered, “Zexion is a sweet child that I basically helped raise, of course I value him. Even if he’s a nosy brat sometimes. Your second father is one of the best men I’ve ever known, period, and I felt the hurt like everyone did whenever Viz was ready to move on to a new one… Zinxi…”

Dilan looked away. A complicated expression on his face, but there was some uncertain pain to it, if nothing else, as he didn’t finish his thought there. Moving on as he said, “If my arguments with Xaldin sound like arguments against Nobodies, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Xaldin and I… I made choices, when I first designed him. But despite those choices, he didn’t stay what I had made. It’s taken me a very long time to accept that that was true, rather than a very convincing show he’s put on.”

“I didn’t design a Nobody who cared about other people. Who could love. When he first… it didn’t seem possible, the things he was doing. I didn’t put anything like that into him.” Dilan whispered, “Viz used to tell me he had gotten out of my control. She was right, in a way, he had. But how do you reconcile that something–someone–you invented, became ‘wrong’ because they were better than what you had tried to create? He was meant to be this sadistic creature who never came out of the crypts. And yet…”

“I still don’t understand how it happened.” Dilan admitted, “Everyone else I understand. Even wanted someone intelligent he could talk to. Ienzo wanted a friend. Lauriam wanted someone ambitious. You all made sense to me. Xaldin? Became so much more than I intended. And it felt cruel, destroying him, for being more than I meant him to be.”

Those things were true, Dilan wasn’t just deluding himself. As cruel as some of his comments over the years could be, he’d considered their family as a whole, not just half of it. And Marluxia had his own point that he’d already said--even from the very start, Dilan had always treated him like a person. 

And yet…

“The fact that you consider it cruelty already says a lot,” Marluxia smirked shallowly, “I heard pleeeeeeenty of arguments over the years that’d just call it ‘maintenance’. All this time, more than a few heated spats trying to convince you otherwise, but you never remade Xaldin. Didn’t help him with the maintenance that isn’t wiping us away, either. But that fact points to a lot more of how you feel about him than just ‘confusion’.”

There wasn’t much more emotion put into it, but Marluxia’s smirk grew sharper, his sharp canines glinting dangerously. “La-La didn’t just want someone ‘ambitious’. You know one of the specific thoughts I was born from?”

Plants around them perked up, turning in towards them. Trees creaking as they loomed ominously. Acid eyes aglow as Marluxia said, “He’ll be the best torturer.”

Not trying to make a friend, or a well-rounded person with their own grand ambitions and interests. Lauriam had specifically tried to make a sadistic creature lording over the boundary of life and death. 

Dilan placed both hands against Marluxia’s face, scrunched his cheeks together, and kissed his forehead.

“...I’ve seen what Xaldin can do, at least by observing his traps. I think he still has you beat.” Dilan said, smirking lightly as he scrunched Marluxia’s face a bit again, “You’re too pretty to be the best torturer of the group.”

“And I know that,” Dilan whispered, looking Marluxia in the eye, “Or did you forget who Lauriam went to for advice, on making his Nobody? I’m the one who told him it should be something you enjoy. That it’s a kindness. And yet, I don’t know if I ever saw you enjoying the practice of it itself…”

“...I tried maintaining Xaldin, once,” Dilan admitted, “Long before either of you ever met him. We were much younger men then. Maintenance and recreating were more common, more openly talked about. You never met Clenaxure… did you ever wonder why the culture changed, regarding how willing we were to change Nobodies? To recreate them?”

…bleh.

Marluxia scrunched his nose in the squish, sticking his tongue out at Dilan. “Jzaldin wisshes,” he grumbled in the squish, “Pretty can make it even scarier, and you never saw me condition. I know for a fact that I could create hellfire that’d make you despair.”

Dilan was heartbroken by Lauriam’s despair, after all. 

There was a lot about conditioning Marluxia didn’t enjoy. When he got Indentured that clearly didn’t deserve to be there, amazing, strong-willed people who he had to destroy, the process had always left him bitter afterwards, for what he’d had to take from them. When there was someone he had trouble with. Certain specs the supervisors made sure to request in someone. Basically everything about their lives that created the situation. 

But the act of conditioning? There was a reason Marluxia got carried away and almost let things slip to Kaito. The conditioning itself, the act of torture, had been fun. 

But it was a fun that Marluxia was more than happy to trade for everything else. 

Clenaxure wasn’t a name Marluxia knew too well, but-- “That’s Ienzo’s grandad, right?” Marluxia hummed, before smirking a little. “Dorks have let a few things slip over the years. You guys got all panicked about taking care of a baby, right?”

Dilan smiled tiredly, brushing some of Marluxia’s hair back over his ear, “We did. But, this was before even that. I was here for some time, before Ienzo ever showed up. You wouldn’t have recognized this place. The island was different, people you never met. Even the supervisors were all different, when I first arrived. A lot changed, from when I first arrived, to when you did.”

“The Somebody’s name was Laurence. Ienzo’s grandad, yeah. He lived through the chairs. Think might have even been there from before that time, saw why empaths were confined to the chairs, but I never thought to ask him about it until after he passed. I was still somewhat in denial back then, that it was going to be my whole life, spent in that place. Wasn’t thinking of the old empaths as ‘ancestors’ by that point.”

“Laurence was a good man,” Dilan started, “Kind. Took care of all of us. Was deeply invested in improving the lives of the Somebodies, but then, he would be, he had seen for himself and lived through how bad the worst case scenario can get. He taught Even to take that same sense of responsibility over the group, and when Ienzo arrived, essentially gave Ienzo to Even to raise the next generation of factory empaths to do the same. To always improve. But to never try to escape. He was worried any attempts would regress us.”

“...Viz was kind, the way she restructured her Nobodies. I don’t know what it looked like when Aaxqu changed, but I believe Aqua also performed hers in a kind way, based on how calm and confident Terra is. The gentle transformations didn’t leave scars in the next ones. The Nobodies always had something left over, from whoever they had been before. If the process wasn’t gentle? You could see it in how the new Nobodies acted.”

“I only recognized what the scars were, in some of the old Nobodies I saw, when I saw Laurence lose his temper on his Nobody at the time. Nexeraclu. Nex was clever and intelligent and charismatic. Another real leader. But Nex was… rebellious, at times. Took risks with the supervisors. Could be too challenging,” Dilan frowned, staring at Marluxia, “...nothing as bold as you ever did. Which is odd to think about now, considering what happened.”

“One day, Nex took his luck too far, and really got on the supervisors’ bad sides. We lost a lot of privileges, and Laurence was furious. I had never seen the man like that before or since. They had this massive argument, right on the beach, and for some reason Nex would just not back down, even as things got worse and worse. He refused to apologize, refused to say he’d do better next time, any of it. Any sort of platitude. I remember being terrified for him. I think after a certain point we all were.”

“...Maintenance was supposed to be for the benefit of the Nobodies. Of the group,” Dilan frowned, eyes far away, “But what happened that day was just torture. Laurence started stripping away pieces of Nex’s personality piece by piece. Replacing aspects of his body with a new version of himself one by one. He wanted Nex to feel himself changing. To recognize it was happening. It was horrifying. A few of us tried to talk him down, to at least tell him to do it quickly, but Laurence wanted to prove a point. I think he was also just vengeful, in that moment. The Nobodies had no wiggle room to be the ones to cost us our privileges. He wanted to cement that into our culture, and show all of them why they didn’t fight supervisors.”

“...Clen was who replaced Nex, and he was delightful and playful and charming and unfalteringly obedient. Seemed terrified of stepping a toe out of line. In a way, that should have been a success, but… Clen’s fear was this awful, constant reminder to everyone, including Laurence, what had happened to Nex. I don’t think any of us ever felt the same way about it again.” Dilan frowned, “... in solidarity, a few of us were going to do maintenance on our Nobodies. Just to show Laurence things were okay. We were going to make sure they felt appropriate fear around supervisors. That was the only bit of maintenance I had planned for Xaldin.”

“...he looked so resigned to it, when he realized what I was going to do. Defeated. He didn’t even look at me.” Dilan whispered, “...I realized a part of him was scared of me. Of doing to him what Laurence had done to Nex. And I couldn’t live with that fear. I think most of us realized we couldn’t live with that fear. We didn’t want to be our Nobodies jailers. Even Laurence was different after that. Older. More tired. I think he regretted it. Instead of putting the Nobodies in their ‘place’, it changed our entire thought process to what it meant to change them. Even especially never even considered the old ways for Vexen, after that.”

“...anyway. Sorry.” Dilan said, closing his eyes, “That was a tangent, I just… I got a bit lost in the memory. The point of all that was that I argue with Xaldin, but I don’t want him to be afraid of me. I’d rather we fight, then I control him. Not like that.”

The Old Guard shared stories, sure. Memories and stories were some of the greatest assets they had in having a life more than never-ending torture and glassy eyes staring at walls. 

In a way, that made ‘happier’ memories more valuable. Life was everything, the good and the bad, but when their present and reality was already so miserable, happy stories were a much needed breath of air. And while the Old Guard talked about their predecessors, shared cautions, there were certain stories that didn’t exactly make the cut. 

So Marluxia listened to something entirely new. 

But as he heard how Nobodies had once been treated, that something exceptional had even been on the table…

Despite himself. Despite being a badass who wasn’t afraid of anything, the best in all aspects.

Marluxia trembled in Dilan’s arms. The fear all the Nobodies had known, regardless of their relationship with their Somebody, even if their Somebody would never do it…that they could be erased in the blink of an eye. Marluxia had experience with it now, knew it wasn’t actually scary or even unpleasant, but he knew how it had used to feel, the fear and desperation that came with what was obviously yawning oblivion. 

What Dilan was talking about, what happened to Nex was…worse. So much worse. Like conditioning, but without even the veil of ignorance or breaks to rest. 

(And that was scary.)

“Uh, yeah,” Marluxia said when it was said and done, clear disturbance across his face, “That’s fucked up. But I’m still not gonna stop calling out shit that you guys argue about, just because it could be worse.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Dilan conceded, kissing Marluxia’s temple as he held him against his chest, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Like you could,” Marluxia bragged full of hot air, snuggling against Dilan’s chest. “Look at you, dweeby nerd. Maybe you could make me scared of how fast a lecture puts me to sleep.”

Marluxia slipped his arms around Dilan’s waist, concentrating for a moment again to make the hug more tangible.

“You’re cute,” Dilan said, relaxing into the feeling, “...though, seriously? How did this all come up? Was it therapy?”

“I brought it up myself, in therapy,” Marluxia half-conceded. “We went through this whole big thing, figuring out that La-La’s most in danger around big grief, and Doctor Frills asked if there was anything on my mind I wanted to talk about after. So I was talking about how much I miss you guys, and it came up.”

“Big grief?” Dilan asked, “Also, can we sit a bit? I’m an old man, we’ve been standing too long beng cute and telling scary stories.”

Marluxia blew a raspberry before shoving Dilan roughly, a mound of clover rising up to catch them before they fell too much before easing back against the ground. Mostly. There was enough variation to feel like you were sitting comfortably. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, unfazed as he lounged, legs thrown over Dilan’s and crossed at the ankle. “She was sleuthing for a pattern with when he feels suicidal, and it’s pretty solidly when he’s having trouble coping with recent grief. So we sorta teamed up to bully him into actually asking for help and not feeling twelve kinds of guilt about it.”

“I suppose that’s good. Grief, eh? I can understand that. Atua knows I’ve wanted to crawl out of my own skin sometimes, escaping that sort of thing.” Dilan sighed, relaxing into the plants and steadying Marluxia against his lap, “So long as the only thing happening in therapy isn’t ‘Dilan hates Nobodies, actually’.”

Marluxia snorted, leaning forward to briefly kiss Dilan’s cheek. “It’s not all about you, you know. We actually don’t talk much about you and Xal at all. Been mostly dealing with medical issues and wrenching La-La’s self-esteem up from the bottom of the ocean.”

He tilted his head against the clover with a sigh. “We have some new appointments coming up, actually. Referrals for the medicine side of brain docs and the physical kind of brain doc. La-La’s kinda nervous, but we’ll be alright. Def easier than dealing with assholes breaking into our apartment.”

“Appointments, eh? Do me a favor, ask Axel or Aeleus to go with you. Maybe Even too, but I feel like if you put Even near a lab he’ll end up running experiments on you next.” Dilan said, tone idle… before he sputtered, “What!? Breaking in!?”

“It’d be a treat for him, at least,” Marluxia snorted, “But, yeah, La-La’s definitely planning on it. We got the warning that nothing should put us out of sorts, but we might be tired so having someone with us wouldn’t hurt.”

Grinning at Dilan’s sputter, Marluxia cooed as he cupped Dilan’s face. “Aw, you care~” Voice dropping a bit, he rolled his eyes. “Prince Kaito decided to be a total asshole today, and picked us as a target. Said he wanted to check out our cooking process, but brought an angel over we hardly know, wanted to make the process all about him, then made a shitty suicide joke to La-La so he lost it on him and kicked him out. Apparently those feelings came out tasting spicy.”

“....seriously, is he insane?” Dilan murmured, entirely sincere. “...actually, I already know the answer to that, he’s famously insane. But why on earth is he following you? Unless…”

Dilan squinted, suspicion on his face… before he sighed, “I’ll tell Prince Kokichi he needs to pull back on the leash there. I don’t know if the prince is the possessive type, but perhaps Prince Kaito is following you because he thinks you’re attractive. If so, his husband should have good reason to want to keep you two separated. Hopefully that will help.”

“That said, I’m glad Lauriam stood up to him regardless. It’s impressive.” Dilan said, meaning it. “You didn’t have to step in for him?”

Marluxia raised an eyebrow before laughing a bit. Aw, that was kinda cute. “That guy’s crazy about his husbands. Think he’s just messing with us ‘cause we’ve had big convos before. Doc Frills said we could consider a restraining order, like we did for Head Bitch, so, well, we’ll consider it. Probably actively since he brought a stranger to our home. La-La was all huddled up against our cabinets with a knife before I answered the door.”

Tsking in amusement, Marluxia shook his head. “Oh, believe me, I don’t have to step in at all for La-La there. He’s more than happy to tell Prince Kaito off. He can be all sweet smiles but Lauriam picks just as many fights as I do.”

“Good. Though, you be safe too. I don’t want anything to happen to either of you,” Dilan said, holding Marluxia tighter into his hug, nuzzling his head, “It doesn’t become okay to get hit, if you’re in the body instead.”

“Duh,” Marluxia huffed, nuzzling back. For a moment he closed his eyes, enjoying just…everything. 

“...our arm’s healing up alright,” he said softly against Dilan’s neck. “Think it’s all just about surface stuff now. Scratches on our neck are about gone, all of the bruises too. There was a bad one under our ribs I’m not sure how we got, but it’s faded too now. Will be all right as rain by the time you can actually see it.”

“I’m glad you’re healing. Wish the world would stop hurting you though.” Dilan sighed, kissing the top of Marluxia’s head, “A bruise under your ribs, huh? Imagine it had to have gotten there during the fight. Sometimes I wonder if I should just head back early…”

“...but Xaldin says the others need us,” Dilan said, “Your mother, Luis, Ienzo… sorry, Marluxia. I want to go to you.”

“I know,” Marluxia murmured. Eyes low and tracing the collar of Dilan’s shirt as he slowly cascaded a hand down Dilan’s chest. “I don’t want you to abandon the others. I’m not asking you to either. As much as I wish you guys were showing up tomorrow, I know there are a lot of reasons for you guys to be in NGP right now.”

“It just sucks,” he whispered, “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too. It feels a bit unfair sometimes. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. Xaldin didn’t realize how lucky he was,” Dilan said, before huffing, “Seriously, I was the last person to wake up? Tell me you’re bitter without saying you’re bitter, Xaldin. Lauriam was lucky you were more proactive.”

“It got harder as more of us did it. And Xaldin really didn’t want me to be last.” Marluxia huffed, snuggling in more. “He made a dumb bet with me about it. I’m not stupid, I can see what he was doing now… I don’t think I would’ve gone through with it. Not until someone pushed the issue. And I wasn’t exactly going out and bothering guards, bringing gangs back to the tavern, so I don’t think most of us would’ve pushed me to do it. Except Xaldin.”

“Who absolutely tells you he’s bitter to your face,” he pointed out.

“True,” Dilan said, “But still, leaving me to rot in the crypt is a bit much.”

“...I can appreciate that he was worried about you,” Dilan admitted softly, “Talking someone into replacing themselves feels less than romantic, but Xaldin can be practical, in his own way. Perhaps he knew the fear would get worse, as time went on. Like I said, he certainly had his own fears about it. With everything that happened to Nex.”

“...he has a practical way of loving people. It’s not always kind, but I’m always surprised by how it always seems to be what the other person needs. Aqua seemed to find him genuinely relaxing. Luis always confided in him. And…” Dilan trailed off again, staring at the clouds drifting by in the sky, “...there was a time where I thought Xaldin was with Zinxi, specifically to upset myself and Inzi.”

“He’d explain what their attraction to each other led to. Did he ever tell you? What their version of intimacy was?” Dilan asked, “If he hasn’t, it almost feels unkind to tell you myself. But he never seemed ashamed or embarrassed by it. It’d upset us, when we heard about it, Inzi and I. I thought Xaldin was with Zinxi to freak us out, and Zinxi was with Xaldin because… who else ever would? It seemed exploitative and cruel.”

“I realized by the end he actually loved her,” Dilan said, “But by the time that happened, there was nothing more to say about it.”

Tracing idle shapes on Dilan’s chest, Marluxia thought back to what felt like ages but really wasn’t that long ago. “...he was so sure of where you were, once we started figuring out what was going on, and what to do about it. Said he’d fight the statues and get you back in half a second, because that would obviously open the crypt door. But after seeing what happened a few times, how shitty it could be, he started looking for other ways. Even by the time I came back I’d find him searching around the door, looking for a way to open it that wasn’t as explosive.”

Marluxia laughed softly. “I suggested dynamite, but I did start my search for Lauriam by gouging into our brain.”

It wasn’t the first time Dilan had told Marluxia this. And he’d been around enough to hear the rude comments Dilan would make about Xaldin and Zinxi’s relationship, which he’d called out every time he did. It kind of felt like a conversation they’d beaten to death. 

A trade Marluxia was familiar with. 

“It’s just vore, dude,” Marluxia sighed, before reaching up to tweak Dilan’s ear. “And also, I’ll kick your ass if you say something like that about Zinxi again. Xal was lucky to bag her, anyone could be so lucky.” His voice grew drier. “And there’s still plenty to say. Such as, sorry for having my head up my ass and being a dickhead. I’m so sorry you lost the fuckin’ love of your life. I wish I had supported you two more because love’s a beautiful thing, and all that. There’s always stuff left to say.”

It would hurt to say it though. An admission of guilt for something that Dilan really couldn’t ever… make better. Zinxi gone. She and Inzi had been so young… too young for a heart attack. It hadn’t been fair.

Dilan had watched Xaldin become inconsolable, that year. Lashing out. Erratic. Quiet. Once or twice, Dilan had made a small attempt to comfort him, but it seemed every attempt had infuriated Xaldin. Dilan had quickly stopped trying. He had ignored Even’s worried whispers that maybe this was one of the few times it would help, if they did a little maintenance again, because Xaldin was in pain, and maybe they could ease it…

But Dilan had been horrified, at doing anything that might have erased Xaldin’s love for Zinxi. Even if it made him less erratic, less hurt. Once Dilan had realized it was real? Removing it was out of the question.

…even if ‘vore’ still horrified him to his very core, what do you mean she eats you limb by limb!? How do you?? Come back do you just??? Reform or!??

Shudder.

“...I’ll talk to him at some point.” Dilan promised. 

“You two are working shit out,” Marluxia accepted easily, affectionately rubbing some of the tension in Dilan’s shoulders. “As La-La astutely said in therapy today--shit’s hard. But as long as you’re trying, and don’t just go back to completely ignoring each other, I have no reason to bury you down side by side in roots and dump my watering can over ya until you talk.”

Marluxia winked at Dilan. “Would be kinda cute to have you both at my mercy, though. But trust me, I wouldn’t get so easily distracted.”

“That would… that would certainly be… interesting.” Dilan said, eyes wide, trying to imagine how that would work… before he tsked, looking away awkwardly, “Tempter.”

“Obviously,” Marluxia smirked, rolling over in Dilan’s lap and turning his face back towards him, “Where would we be if you didn’t find your boyfriend tempting? If I didn’t make the decision to stay over there hard? If I wasn’t the star of more than a few dreams?”

“One day I’ll get you to face me without shying away,” Marluxia threateningly promised, “But until then I just have to shine so bright you can’t escape.”

“Atua have mercy on me… you’re going to add many levels to my trials.” Dilan murmured. Kissing Marluxia’s temple.

-

It was odd to be uncomfortably hot in the middle of a frozen wasteland, but once again Dimitri had to resist the urge to adjust his mask even a little to let some of the cool air in. That trapped heat being what was keeping him alive, but man… the humidity of his own breath was starting to get to him.

“I don’t mind the heat so much,” Riku had said, when Dimitri brought it up, the group slowly moving through the snow, “I guess the humidity neither. What’s getting to me is the eyes.”

“The eyes?” Dimitri asked, before feeling stupid as he looked up, “Oh. Yeah.”

( ◎⃝⃘ ) = ( ◎⃝⃘ )

Yeah… the fog of the blizzard had finally eased enough that the moon–the person who was talking to them, Dimitri assumed–could finally be seen. The massive, looming orb grimacing down at them with wide, unblinking eyes.

“...yeah. The eyes aren’t great.” Dimitri agreed, looking back down tiredly.

“It’s straight up creepy!” Sam yelped, giving a shiver just from that and not the cold at all. “You get so used to the moon just being the moon and then it goes and does this! It’s like it’s asking for no one to wanna sleep outside ever again.”

“Considering it’s actually asking for world-end prevention, that might be a fair guess,” Marluxia chuffed, “But it better go back to normal once this is all over. I’m not gonna go through the trouble of killing a god just to have the saved world be all freaky.”

“And chin up~” he cooed to Dimitri, “I’ve heard we’re about to march right into a dry heat, so your wetness woes are about to be obliterated~”

“Ngh. It’s actually hard to imagine what that’s going to feel like. The hottest it ever gets back home is the snow melting in the busiest part of the city. We’re going to die of heat stroke.” Dimitri whimpered, genuinely worried about it. Their whole lives had been snow. How do you even exist in the heat!?

“I think we’ll be okay,” Riku said again, “People can adapt to anything. So long as we stay hydrated? Should be fine!” 

Dimitri felt mildly amused at Riku trying to sound knowledgeable about something he also knew nothing personal about. It’s not like he had ever been in a hot place either. And now they were heading to one of the hottest spots on the continent…

“Feels impossible,” Dimitri murmured, before glancing up at the moon again, “Well, it wouldn’t be the only thing…”

“What!?” Riku shouted, “I can’t hear you anymore!”

“I didn’t really mean to– I said it feels impossible!” Dimitri shouted.

“What does!?”

“All of this! The moon too! Actually, the moon especially?” Dimitri shouted, “It can’t be the real moon! I mean, beyond the obvious reasons! If the moon was really that near!? Gravity would be all… reversed!”

“...what?”

“The moon would be pulling in too much gravity if it was that close! It’s not real, or, not really the moon anyway!” Dimitri shouted.

“How do you know?

(Dimitri knew because a fun-fact he had learned about Prince Kaito was that he was into astrology, and to dive deeper into the character based on him Dimitri had dedicated an entire semester to learning astronomical facts.)

“...I don’t know! Feels obvious?” Dimitri reasoned.

There was a bit more to it than just staying hydrated, but Sam agreed that they’d be alright. They’d take it slow, change up their clothes to wick where they needed it without the insulation of how that worked in their snow clothes, ha, they probably had stuff that’d work alright as fans if someone really needed to cool off. They’d figure it out~

Everything about the moon, though?

Chuckling a little to himself over the communication struggles--c’mon, guys~--Sam spoke into his walky-talky, “Oh, huh. I mean, I guess that’s right, but I just figured it was magic, yanno? Some kinda magic’s giving the moon a face, so I figure it could prevent total gravity fuckery, right?”

“Real or not, something’s still going on,” Marluxia huffed. “Maybe it’s impossible in theory, but great good that does when it’s happening in front of us. Debate all you want with a celestial body, Tempest King, we’ll all be able to hear if it decides to answer back.”

(...what the hell did the moon have to do with gravity???)

Riku struggled with his groves for a minute, looking for the button…

“I wonder if it can hear us? I mean, I feel like the answer is no, but at the same time, this is magic fuckery. Do you think it’s listening to us?”

“To us, specifically? I mean… probably not?” Dimitri frowned, “It’s not like we’re special. Everyone’s playing its game, right? That’s thousands of people to watch.”

“Assuming they all haven’t killed themselves fighting the gods yet.”

“I doubt that. Most people aren’t fighters. Even give them a weapon and point them at an enemy, I think most people’s first instinct would be to run and hide,” Dimitri said, pausing, “...actually, most people’s first instinct would be to go back to what they were doing before, but also just carrying a weapon around now. When people are scared, they rely on habits and norms. It’s rare having someone really ready to just change their whole life on a dime, just because someone said they have to. But, well, that’s our whole town, isn’t it. Refusing to break the norm no matter what… most everyone back home probably went to work this morning.”

…probably. The whole ethos of Scaduview seemed to be ‘ignore everything else, we’ll do our own thing’. Some of it was forced, considering the never-ending magical storm surrounding them, so even if someone wanted news of the rest of the world, there was literally no way to get it. And honestly, it was fair to say that they had enough problems on their own to worry about anything else. 

However, the four of them had decided to break that even before the moon came down with its ugly-ass face.

“Sure, sure, but sometimes it’s not ‘because someone said so’,” Marluxia pointed out, “When circumstances change around you, and you can’t just do what you’ve always done, you adapt or die. The chucklefucks back home won’t do shit yet, but if a fight shows up on their doorstep, something’s gonna happen. Just couldn’t tell ya if it’d be a massacre or mob.”

“Yeesh… Hope it doesn’t get to that point, then,” Sam grimaced, tucking one gloved hand under his armpit while he kept his walky-talky up with the other, “It’d be nice if people weren’t forced to fight. Not sayin’ that I’m rearing to take up the mantle of big storybook hero, but…if we’re trying, we might as well try to win. And that’d mean no one else had to--”

Sam suddenly stopped, a sort of bleary, bewildered look on his face.

-

“Oh, I think we might need a pause?” Ienzo noted from the screen he was watching. “Could one of you two check on Sam, please?”

“I’ve got him,” Temp said, bringing up his hood as he stepped through the shadows…

-

The Templar softly pressed just above the snow, his feet not making an indent as his cloak shifted around him. Looking over Sam before asking with some concern, “How are you feeling? You look like you need to sit down. Would you like a quick change in location?”

Sam looked at The Templar in utter confusion for a moment, Marluxia quickly taking a defensive stance…before they both eased, the game fading away as Temp’s presence created a break. 

“Oh, uh…” Sam blinked a little distractedly, “Thanks dude, but…uh, sorry, I think I gotta go? My li’l bro is trying to wake me up, I think. Guy gets some nasty nightmares sometimes.”

Very subtly Marluxia’s eyebrows rose before he made a little shooing motion. “Go, go--we’re still just walking in a straight line in the snow, it’s not like anything’s happening.”

“Is that really an option? I mean, once we head back into the game, won’t we be freaked out one of us is missing?” Riku asked.

“No, we have a setup for this–go, go ahead, I’ll explain what happened when you return. Just think ‘very hard’ about wanting to be back later’.” Temp said, waving his hand, Sam disappearing, “We have a setup for this. Your characters will still ‘see’ and ‘hear’ Sam, but it’s an illusion. He won’t do much of anything, just exist around you all. He might seem quiet, but he’ll fight if attacked and follow you all.”

“That’s a bit eerie,” Dimitri frowned, “...but also not that unusual for roleplaying. Should we not give him a chance to return first though?”

“An illusion, huh…” Eyes lidding, Marluxia scoffed before he nudged Riku’s shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Wonder who might’ve suggested that.”

Sighing, Marluxia gave Dimitri a shrug. “Could, though that’d mean that the others are gaining time on us, and we’re still one of the groups farthest away from a boss. I’m starting to feel like it’s some sort of fumble that no one’s tried to fight, yet, but given that we’re only level 2 and most people aren’t, they might still be working on, like, getting resources and all that. Unless another mob is headed right for us, I don’t see what the difference is in walking in-game and not. One just has grimmer vibes than the other.”

Narrowing his eyes a little at Dimitri, Marluxia jerked his head towards him. “...that shit you said about the moon true? Like stuff’d be getting fucked if one was really that close?”

“What Amaina is pulling off with this ‘game’ of hers is a bit one of a kind, as far as empath abilities go,” Temp said, looking up at the moon, “She wouldn’t be able to do it at all without the power source she’s drawing from. Very few people in the whole of world could pull it off. Truly a once in a lifetime experience… but you’re correct, we don’t have any mobs nearby. If you’d like, you all can continue walking out of character until Sam returns?”

“Really?” Riku asked, raising his eyebrows, “That’s okay?”

“You really are just walking for now. Simpler than the illusion.” Temp shrugged, “I’ll reevaluate if Sam takes too long to return.”

“Sure…” Dimitri said to Temp, though he turned his attention back to Marluxia, the group starting to walk in roughly the same direction they had been going before. It was still a pretty tough walk, but the snow was no longer falling around them, making it easier to breathe and speak to each other, “Oh, about it creating really notable effects on gravity? I mean, I’m not an expert, but I think so? The proximity of the moon already affects the tides, so–”

“It does?” Riku asked, “How?”

“How…?” Dimitri blinked, not sure if Riku was sincerely asking. Realizing the other teen was, Dimitri adjusted. “Well, it’s actually why the moon rotates around us to begin with. Celestial bodies, like the sun, earth and moon, push and pull at each other through gravity, and how they get pushed and pulled depends on how big they are and how close they managed to get. The moon couldn’t really get any closer to us than it already gets without something happening to earth that would draw it in, but if for some reason it did get as close as it is? Well, you know how the ocean goes in and out of the beach–”

“Waves?” Riku asked.

“... a bit,” Dimitri conceded, “Gravity from the moon’s density would make those waves bigger and bigger, the water moving into bigger and tighter clumps because gravity was pulling it more. Water would be the most notable thing to shift immediately, because it's so easily affected by gravitational shifts, but that close? I wouldn’t be surprised if in real life we’d be able to jump really high, rocks would hover in the air… well, I think it’d affect oxygen too, I think we’d all die. But we’d be very cool floating corpses.”

As they kept walking, Marluxia kicked the snow a bit, quietly fascinated with how it burst and scattered over his boots. Sure, sure, they’d encountered snow as they made it through the mountains and through northern Dicea, but they’d all been warned by basically every person they came across that they’d missed the bulk of it. Seeing so much snow like this, in a storm, was crazy. 

As was, uh…the moon doing some really weird stuff, apparently. 

“How’s gravity affect oxygen, air’s air,” Marluxia grumbled, not entirely asking, before he more genuinely noted, “So it’s kinda like water in a box that you’re spinning, but the water is magnetic and you’re holding a magnet above the box and circling it around. So crazier combos happen if it’s closer, ‘cause the attraction’s stronger.”

He huffed, cheeks puffing a little. “The hell you even learn that kind of shit?”

Riku blinked, giving Marluxia a truly bewildered look… before his brow furrowed, “Wait, where did the magnets part fit in? I missed the magnet bit.”

“That feels like a more comprehensive explanation of what I was trying to say,” Dimitri agreed, nodding, “And the magnets are just the representation of gravity, Riku.”

“Oh, yeah… like a compass.” Riku tried to follow along, looking a little desperate.

“Yeh, like a compass.” Dimitri nodded, “As for where I learned it, uh, probably the same way you did. Just… taking advantage of the self-maintained project free periods in school to read about a niche interest at the library. Had a specialized astronomy class too, but most of it was just pouring through textbooks. I was being a bit of a nerd, trying to get into the head of one of my characters.”

“Magnets pull shit to ‘em, like gravity, but gravity isn’t really something you mess around with that often.” Marluxia paused, before grimacing. “...okay, except for the bullshit the Lord of Darkness pulls. I know you never messed with that stuff, but his concept of literal natural forces couldn’t have come from anywhere but your head and understanding, twerp.”

That was a reference point that made more sense to them. While Dimitri’s?

Marluxia gave the blond a blank look for a moment before cackling. “Pffff, yep, aaaaaabsolutely the way I’ve learned anything, using downtime in school to study. Really, the most common experience we all share~”

Riku huffed, shrugging, “I don’t know what Ansem’s talking about, half of the time. If he’s getting it from me? He’s, I don’t know… getting something out of the books we’ve both ‘read’ that’s never occurred to me. Looking at the same information different ways, I guess. Every version of him I ever made became like that.”

“What are you two talking about?” Dimitri asked.

“Uh… what are you talking about?” Riku asked, “I thought school was really structured?”

“You… ‘thought’?” Dimitri asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been.”

“.... I thought Luminary had a pretty decent schooling system for the younger ages?” Dimitri said, brow furrowing, something frustrated running through his face. Shit… his lore was wrong…? “Don’t you go to school until at least middle school?”

“You do, if you’re a citizen,” Marluxia sniffed with feigned boredom, watching the frozen snow, “And from what I remember about school, we didn’t have anything called, like, ‘free-period’. But, what?”

He glanced over, acid eyes looking Dimitri up and down. “You Dicean, like…high school? What I’ve heard from La-La just checking university and alternative shit out, you guys basically do whatever the hell you want and it somehow amounts to school.”

Dimitri frowned, suddenly feeling uneasy. Marluxia seemed… upset? Or maybe he wasn’t. Dimitri was having a hard time telling. “Yeah, I’m graduating this year actually. I mean… we don’t do ‘whatever’ we want. We have to set goals and show progress towards those goals in sessions with our teachers and mentors–”

“Oh, you do mentors too?” Riku asked.

“...not like how you’re thinking. Student mentors, we have a student faculty member or upperclassman or even, if we can get them approved, someone working in the field we’re studying, and we give them updates to how our research and projects are coming along.” Dimitri said, “I spent one semester studying astronomy, made some models, it did pretty well… citizens… are you guys…” 

Dimitri suddenly felt more uncomfortable. Should he ask? Was it rude to ask if someone was Indentured? He felt like he had to finish asking though, “...victims of the indentured program?”

Wild. That was sort of the impression he had gotten from Lauriam talking about the tutoring program available--that it was less about tests and essays and more about practical uses for education, just overseen by someone who knew what the hell they were talking about and could answer questions. If that wasn’t just a special program, though, and just how school was in general? Still no way either of them wanted to go back to 7th grade probably, but school might’ve been enjoyable that way. Perish the thought.

…kinda nice hearing about it for the teens’ sake, though. 

Trying to be subtle about it, Marluxia glanced at Riku, trying to get a beat on how his little brother felt about how school was apparently structured in their new home. 

But Marluxia wasn’t exactly a subtle kind of guy, and he guffawed at Dimitri’s timid question. “Victims! What a way to say it! Ha~ that’s really cute, actually~”

Leaning towards Dimitri, Marluxia gave him a sharp, alligator grin. “What a smarty-pants, putting that together~ Well, since you are Dicean, I’m sure you’ve heard allllll about how you shouldn’t try to trigger someone’s conditioning, it just isn’t polite~” From the cutesy, almost cooing tease, Marluxia’s grin only grew more dangerous. “You’d be in for a very rude awakening if you tried, so better stick to that social attitude, hm~?”

Riku shot Marluxia a confused look. Wha…?

Dimitri, though, swallowed uneasily, leaning backwards. His eyes darting down into the snow, looking a little ashamed, inexplicably, as if he had already tried it and was sorry, even though it had only just come up now, as he said wearily, “I… no, sorry, I wouldn’t… sorry…”

“Uuuh, it’s okay?” Riku tried to reassure, feeling uncomfortable with the weird new atmosphere. He had no idea how they had gotten to this point. Was there something to be sorry for?? “...um, Dicea’s pretty cool. I’m enjoying my stay here. By the way. The school thing seems… neat?”

“O-oh, yeah, um… yeah, it’s pretty good. I’m a little nervous about heading to the next step myself. Schools almost over for me. Which is odd, since I’ve been doing it so long… sorry.” Dimtri said again.

Marluxia smiled venomously. “If you wouldn’t, there’s nothing to be sorry for, darling. You can leave that wallflower timidness to your character.”

Though, as he straightened, unphased by the awkward atmosphere Dimitri and Riku seemed to be stifled by, he raised an eyebrow at Dimitri. “You’re not going to university? Like, I’m definitely not the person advocating for every single person to go, but it’s crazy easy to. Not gonna, I dunno,” Marluxia looked up with a sigh, recalling some of the classes he’d scanned with Lauriam, “take a random climbing class, or collage, or history of monsters in literature? If we weren’t so busy doing every single fucking thing in the universe right now, it sounds kinda fun to try something out there just for the experience.”

“Uh, I mean… my family is counting on me to… or, at least… expecting me to run the family business, someday…”

“What’s your family business?” Riku asked.

“...we plan and maintain the sewage system of the capital.” Dimitri sighed.

“Oh! Like Aced!” Riku said, lighting up a bit, “He works in sewage too, sort of. That’s pretty cool.”

“It… is…” Dimitri frowned, clearly not believing it as he said it, “...it’s also kinda stifling. Being told what you’re going to be. Feeling trapped…”

Riku frowned, “Wait, they’ll throw you in prison for not doing it?”

“....no.” Dimitri said.

Now Riku looked even more confused, “Then how are you trapped?”

Marluxia kept quiet as he listened to Dimitri, before his lips twisted in a scowl. 

“Family expectations, First Place,” Marluxia clarified to Riku, his voice low. “His folks will be disappointed he’s not a little copy of them, and that disappointment is heartbreaking.”

Marluxia looked Dimitri in the eye, something challenging in it. “Right?”

…….was he being made fun of?

Well, of course someone from Luminary would look at his problems and just laugh… not to mention a victim of the indentured program… anything Dimitri had to worry about was laughable, to them…

…but it had always been laughable, to everyone. Dimitri had never not felt like that. It was why he had taken so much pleasure out of playing a stifled, trapped Prince. All of the guilty privilege of his life, his good fortunes, but… grander. Bigger. With more dire circumstances. More beautiful successes. All of Dimitri’s fears and insecurities, but given… weight.

Not just Dimitri, who was feeling socially pressured to follow in his parents successful footsteps, and feeling guilty for being frustrated by being born winning in life. None of his friends had an ‘empire’--for as much as his parents successful, much needed, universally praised business was an ‘empire’--waiting for them. They had to figure it out for themselves… by desiring things. Yearning for things. Trying…

“...right.” Dimitri said. Trying not to feel angry as he agreed. There was no reason to be angry that Marluxia had read him to rights immediately. Dimitri was a cliche. “It’s a lot of social pressure.”

“You kind of sound like you don’t want to,” Riku pointed out.

“.......... maybe a little.” Dimitri said softly.

It wasn’t exact. Without actually reading him, Marluxia had no way to know of Dimitri escapism and the pull he felt from being cornered into success and security. But it had once been his job to give people the sense that they’d crumble without the approval of their peers, and to ensure they’d do anything to avoid it. 

It was an attitude Marluxia thought was dumb as hell, but it was one that he understood intimately. 

“...ooooh, I get it then,” Marluxia said after a moment, bringing his hands behind his head as he walked. “So this is a trial run?”

“What is? Fighting gods?” Riku asked, pointing up at the moon.

“Heh, no…” Dimitri smiled weakly, “...I love roleplaying, because it lets me step out of a life that feels really… predetermined. I already know what my life is going to look like. I knew the first time my dad took me to work and put a construction helmet on my head and let me read out the plans of the day to his workers, who all treated it like I was the one who had come up with the list. Dad raised me to be him. And… I don’t know how to be anyone else.”

“But my characters? The ones in play in my games?” Dimitri’s smiled widened, his eyes lighting up. Something strong in his gaze, as he lost himself in lifetimes played out, “Winning, losing… and man, they lost a lot. Most of my characters were beaten down and lost everything they were hoping for and they just had to come to grips with it, want new things, they rarely got what they wanted when I first created them… but either way? They took risks! They did things! They didn’t live the lives they wanted, but they didn’t live the lives chosen for them either. Whether it was good or bad… they felt real.”

“...more real than my actual life feels sometimes,” Dimitri said, eyes dimming. The strength leaving him. “Where I’m just kind of drifting through it. Hoping despite literally everything I’m doing, the very obvious path I’m walking, that still somehow it’s all going to end up different anyhow. Like life will let me escape… everything I’m destined for. Just out of kindness.”

“.......................dude, maybe you should be a writer instead of a sewer guy?” Riku said, placing his hands behind his head and shrugging, “You think the way Ienzo’s books sound.”

“Ugh, defeatists. Always so boring.” Marluxia rolled his eyes. “Life isn’t anything if you never make anything out of it, duh. If you’ve already got practiced stepping out of your life to play out shit, then get studied on bringing stories into your life--like I said, make this a trial run. If your wimpy sniveler of a character can find the bravery to fight gods, win or lose, then that’s practice for your more mundane self to find the bravery to tell your family you want to do something for yourself. If they’re worth anything at all, then they won’t drag you down when you actually tell them that.”

“If your life feels fake without risks, walking along the story already written, take one and write your own,” Marluxia sniffed, backing up Riku’s suggestion with a related metaphor. “It won’t be easy, but that doesn’t sound like the part you’re actually scared of.”

“...write my own?” Dimitri whispered, scratching his cheek in open, genuine confusion…

“..........wait, did that get through??” Riku asked, bewildered, “I’ve had, like, maybe three, four conversations with you now before and after these games, and I thought you were just waiting for someone to ask you what you write. Do you not write? Has that not occurred to you before?”

“Well, I mean… I write my character profiles… and the occasional oneshots for to give the DM’s a break. I wrote my own campaign once but I felt too… it felt weird to try to get my RP friends to take a break from their campaigns to play out mine…” Dimitri said shyly, “I don’t know if I can actually write? Daydreaming and writing are different things.”

“Sure…” Riku blinked, “...how though?”

“I-it takes skill! Practice! You have to, you know… write it down!” Dimitri insisted, “The things!”

“You are a defeatist,” Riku agreed, scoffing a bit, “Just try it anyway. You have a bunch of stories in your head? Go do something with them. Pass on your luck in running sewage stuff to someone else.”

Dimitri opened his mouth to argue… before his eyes widened again. “......what do you mean?”

“If you think you got lucky, and you feel bad giving it up, well, someone has to step up if you don’t, right?” Riku asked, “The job doesn’t disappear if you don’t do it, and neither does your luck. If you don’t do it, your luck gets passed on. Someone else gets the change. It’s like, uh…dark and light balance, where you can’t actually… take out light without dark filling–see? I have no idea how Ansem would explain it! It’d be something like that, but no idea what he means!”

“Do you have any idea how many shitty books are out there?” Marluxia raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Dimitri. “At least a neat idea makes it interesting, and you can’t get practice without doing practice. Be bad. Get better. Actually do something with your time rather than feeling bad about it.”

And to Riku’s further points about the sewage job, Marluxia nodded in agreement before snorting, pushing a fist against Riku’s head. “You’ve got the nonsense dorkiness down, just gotta commit to treating it all like life or death. And somehow like it doesn’t matter at all. Something like--”

Marluxia widened his stance, making his posture grander (and with grandeur) as he wiped expression from his face barring a serious, grim look. “Our choices are meaningless in the grand scheme… The roles are set regardless of the actors that fill them. To face the light or lurk in the dark is the path of the individual…”

He let out a puff of air, straightening to his normal stature with an exasperated look. “It’s a lot of ominous trailing off and refusing to explain anything, and people just assume a meaning for it ‘cause he won’t confirm.”

“Seriously, who is this guy you keep talking about? If he’s that into theatrics, why didn’t he join?” Dimitri asked.

“Namine didn’t want to join because I think she was nervous about fitting in or something, and Ansem decided he’d stay and spend time with her when we all come and do this. I think… they might be… a thing.” Riku said, looking disturbed, “...which I don’t know what to do with, since Namine sort of?? Is my sister? We share the same adoptive parents… it’s weird, I don’t know, I try not to think about it.”

“What?” Dimitri asked, “...no, I need more context. What?”

“It’s so hard to explain man, just, Ansem is my… friend?” Riku said, wincing as he said it. Still having a slightly harder time adjusting his view of Ansem then the others had their own Nobodies, “And Namine is also my friend and kind of my sister and they spent a lot of time together and they’re both kind of weird.”

“That explained almost nothing.”

“Use your imagination! Write your own version!”

“Get ready for that ship to sail faaaaaar beyond you, squirt,” Marluxia sighed commiseratingly. Maybe that was a little performative, since the issues he had with Lauriam crushing on Xaldin and Dilan weren’t that the older men felt like uncomfortably close family members, and Marluxia liked them too, but he did mean the sentiment sincerely. And he was a little more aware of how ridiculous it’d be for him to express that he hoped Namine found someone better.

Though, he gave Riku a brief confused look before rolling his eyes. “The Witch and Lord of Darkness are here, just not as players. They were the weirdo-duo explaining they’d be roaming healers,” he gave Dimitri a nod, figuring at least one of them would’ve remembered that whole spiel at the beginning of the game, “but aaaaare still together, so same difference. And it’s not that hard to explain.”

Sniffing, Marluxia said, just, sooo clearly, “A bunch of us here are family, but found family by circumstance so putting on labels are inaccurate shortcuts.” He paused, before pouting a little. “...I guess when Mom gets here your little hero gang are going to be legally siblings too, but that’s almost irrelevant by this point.”

“...They’re here!?” Riku sputtered, looking around the wasteland like they’d suddenly appear, “I thought… Ansem gave me this whole speech… AUGH! I never know what he’s SAYING!”

“...the tall guy?” Dimitri asked, brow furrowing, “... the tall buff guy who looks like he came straight off a bodice-ripper copper novel?”

“Oooooh, that’s why I didn’t notice him, he is still using his ‘older’ looking form in the game? I’m getting used to the teen and chibi thing he’s doing these days.” Riku frowned…before looking embarrassed, “He doesn’t look like that! The smut books?”

“Oh, sorry… he’s your… brother?” Dimitri frowned, “I didn’t mean to be crude, he’s just very……. Conventionally attractive.” The guy looked like he was seconds away at any given second from falling backwards into a chair as water poured down his chest and stomach, is what Dimitri thought but didn’t say.

“He’s meant to look cool!” Riku practically whined, looking more embarrassed.

That was no reason not to notice Namine. Sure, sure she was embracing the Chibi look too, but when she wasn’t she looked the same as he always did. Less stressed, maybe, but Marluxia wasn’t sure if that was just wistful thinking from him. 

As sober as some of those thoughts were, Marluxia had no qualms bursting into cackles at Riku’s aghast pearl-clutching, doubling over as he held his stomach. “BAHHAhahaha!!! Sorry, kid, ‘cool, scary, and sexy’ form a triangle~ PFFFFHAHAHA!!!”

‘Meant to?’ Dimitri wondered…

But something about Marluxia mentioning ‘scary’ made him remember, oh, right! Giving Marluxia a somewhat uncertain glance, Dimitri asked, “Hey, did you and Sam figure out whatever fight you two were having? I’m assuming yes, since Sam didn’t bring it up, but I thought… I guess I’m just curious.”

Calming from his absolute guffawing joy at Riku’s expense, Marluxia wiped a tear from his eye as he gave Dimitri a huff that was far more light-hearted than it had the potential to be. “That wasn’t even a fight, but yeah. Just set some boundaries~”

“Yupp, all cool!” Sam agreed, popping back into the snowscape, looking a little sleepy but more alert with every second. “It was my bad, glad ya let me know. Anyway--thanks for pausin’ for a sec. Li’l bro was gettin’ kinda freaked out by the storm goin’ on by our place, but he’s all chill bunkin’ with me for the night. We good to keep going?”

“From one storm to another?” Riku asked, a bit amused as Sam seemed to appear as if he had been summoned. “I think so? Didn’t really stop moving, we’ve just been walking the snow. The Templar basically told us we don’t have any a lot to do this session, which is kind of a bummer.”

“Sometimes a calmer session lets the characters talk a bit,” Dimitri said, appeased to hear the argument had been settled. “But, yeah, we can keep going.”

“...anyone know how to call them or…?”

“Right?” Sam gave Riku a chuckle. “Thankfully just rain by me, though--I’d be wildlin’ if there was a sudden freak snowstorm.” 

Nodding a bit as he was more or less caught up with what he missed, Sam looked around, wondering the same--

It wasn’t a literal gong hit. But it may as well have been for how suddenly the adventurers’ postures shifted from casual conversation to bracing against a whirling, raging snowstorm. The four continuing their journey out of the starting zone.

-

For as much as they knew there was going to be a serious, difficult, and seriously difficult challenge ahead of them, starting the walk up Frostpeak Mountain was kinda…mundane. As much as Neveram made sure to let visitors and new residents know that going up near the crypts was death for all but the most prepared and sure-hearted, the middle of the mountain? Was just a nature trail, really. 

So Gula, Linnea, and Geo were just…walking. Oddly peaceful in the snow glimmering in the moonlight, even if that moon was too close and too bright and very disturbing. 

It wasn’t long past them going through the gate that Gula casted the masked stranger a side glance and asked, “Well, okay, if you’re not that kind of angel, what’s your deal? Why are you heading to Godwyn?”

“Why are you heading to Godwyn? Can’t I have the same reason?” Geo drawled. “I heard that message same as everyone.”

(Excepting archeologists that had slept through the announcement, but Geo the Angel had no way of knowing that.)

“So are you, then?” Gula huffed. “Defeat a god, get an artifact, bring it to the tower in Clock Town and the world isn’t blown to smithereens. You just doin’ your duty as an altruist?”

There was something of a smile in Geo’s voice, even if they couldn’t see his face. “Hey, it’s not like I want the world to end either; I live here. But for something a little more motivating--” and there Linnea raised an eyebrow, having thought the end of the world was motivation enough on its own-- “I have a promise to a lady I have to keep. And to keep it, I have to defeat Godwyn.”

He shrugged. “Or just for him to be defeated, but waiting for someone else to do it feels like a loophole that’d backfire on me.”

“It sounds like we have the same goal,” Linnea commented cheerily, clapping her hands together, “so let’s get along in jolly cooperation, hm? There’s a point to too many cooks in the kitchen, but I think we’re far from that point when it comes to taking down a god. Or even just going through the crypts.”

Gula gave that a serious nod. It kinda seemed like he and Geo had the same idea, to a point. All that really mattered was Godwyn being defeated by someone…but waiting around for someone else to do it felt too much like leaving things to risk. If you wanted something to happen, you needed to be the one to do it, and to be the one to instigate getting help, too. He wasn’t so egotistical to think he was so much better than everyone, so he needed to take down Godwyn…

But, well, Gula had grown up in the treasure hunters’ mecca. He knew he’d get a lot stronger just on the journey to meet the god. 

“I’m good with close and mid-range,” he informed Geo, starting to strategize already, “And Miss Linnea’s the best shot the village has ever seen. Guess you have an advantage being able to cover the sky; what, you have, like…holy magic, or--?”

There was a…look, there was no better way to describe it than there was a twisting sound in the air, before a sort of club materialized in Geo’s hand. Or…it had the base and handle of a club, though the end sort of looked like a cross-shaped headstone, with a skull carved right in the middle.

“I’m a healer,” the angel shrugged, showing off the, oh right healing club, so obvious, “but enemies won’t enjoy getting smacked.”

Linnea sighed. “We’re about a defensive close-range member short of a full party, but!” she chirped, brightening, “Not too bad for the three of us. We might even have a chance!”

“Don’t get too optimistic,” Gula snorted.

Geo smiled faintly behind his mask. Yeah, okay, these two weren’t bad.

-

When Aced and Invi had gone to Amaina, Aced sheepishly explaining his problem, Amaina and hmm’d and hummm’ and huuuh’d as she turned over the problem in her head. Aced was stuck in the city he was in, and was worried he wasn’t going to end up doing anything… what could he dooooo if he wasn’t going to attack the gods…

Kokichi, overhearing, had skipped over, smiled sweetly, and offered his own idea on something interesting that could happen in the city while all the rest of the players were away.

O.O

OvO Cool.

-

Aced hung his head as he walked up the steps of the watchtower, Commander Eagus probably not having summoned him to give him any… goooooood news. And let’s be honest, it was probably entirely because the watch leader had heard that Aced had done the exact literal one thing he wasn’t supposed to do as the night gate watch, which was, under no circumstances, open the gate…

Aced took a steadying breath as he knocked on the door of the commander’s office. The commander was a stern man, but not cruel, in Aced’s experience. If Aced explained the Hero Linnea had been the one to request the gate open, certainly he’d understand Aced had been outranked? Aced had stayed at his post! He had…

“Come in,” a even-tempered voice called.

Aced obeyed the order immediately, heading inside. He had never been in the commander’s office before, and was mildly surprised by the full-scale model of the city in the center of the room, immaculate in detail and currently the commander’s focus, the man looking over the model as he said, “Guardsman Aced, was it?”

“Yes sir! Reporting!” Aced said, bowing low.

An odd thing for him to do–they didn’t bow here–but it had felt like instinct, and Aced wasn’t sure why. But the commander didn’t seem to notice, just nodding as he looked over his model.

“This is a bad night for this, guardsman,” the commander sighed, looking away from the model and out to the large window that gave him a view of the city, the massive moon somehow even closer at the top of the city watch tower, “Too many people reported you for me to ignore it though. Opening the gate as the night watch? Tonight, of all nights?”

“S-sir, I had citizens who needed to–”

“How many escaped?”

Aced blinked. It was a strange way to phrase it, and it gave Aced an immediate sense of unease. But he still felt compelled to answer, “...f-four?”

“Four,” the commander whispered, “Well, that’s not so bad. I’ve sent more guards to reinforce the gate. Men and women I know I can depend on. True guardsmen who will obey and ensure the gates stay locked. Four… tonight of all nights…”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but with this gods business, some of our people were ready to go and–”

“What?” the commander chuckled, suddenly mused, “Fight the gods? The way they are now? They’re too weak, they’ll never manage it.”

Aced felt oddly offended by that. It was probably true, but… “Linnea went with them.”

At that, the commander hesitated, “...that’s a pity.” he whispered, “She was strong. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had already managed to level up quite a bit. That’s going to be a challenge, no doubt…”

“Sir?” Aced asked, again that sense of unease running through him.

The commander looked at him, like he had forgotten Aced was there… before he chuckled lightly, looking back at the city, “Not that I need to worry. Years, guardsman. That’s how much time I’ve put into this plan. Literal years…would you like to see something? It’s really quite something. You’ll be the literal only other person in the world who might ever know–however briefly–what I’ve done.”

…….why was the commander talking like a copper-novel villain?

Aced warily approached the model of the city as the commander waved him over. “Guardsman, have you heard even a rumor, yet, of what tonight really is? What the rest of our lives really are?”

“The… the fight against the gods, sir?”

“I guess essentially, yes.” the commander said, fussing with some of the model buildings.

Aced watched as, one by one, the commander opened the roofs of certain buildings. Buildings Aced recognized. Crypt entrances. Buildings that hid–guarded and reinforced–the entrances to the catacombs beneath the city, created and carved before the undead made them death traps waiting to happen. And as the commander opened these roofs, revealing levers inside of them that clicked every time the commander flipped them, an electric buzzing sound humming louder the more he did, he monologued.

“The moon has a name. Rher.” Click, “It’s one of the first things I ever learned, growing up: the name of the moon. I didn’t grow up in Neveram, did you know? Not many people do. I came here as a much younger man.” Click, “Rher is a god. A trickster god, the type that wouldn’t be in the books you’ve read growing up. Only one city in the world, I believe, is raised to know his name. That’s by design. Rher worshippers have never been accused of wanting to play fair.”

Aced watched the commander click more buttons. The hum of electricity got louder.

“The coming of Rher is prophesied by the folks down in Clock Town. It’s why Clock Town has its name. We are the people who watch the clock. Who wait–and prepare–for our time to end. Generations of Clock Town, of my family, had lived and died, preparing their whole lives for this night. But me? My efforts actually get to pay off…have you ever heard of soul magic, guardsman?” click, hummm, “Probably not. It’s a dark, forbidden magic that even those who have heard of it, have no idea how to utilize it. That’s because a God needs to allow it. It’s not something we can just do ourselves. But Rher’s presence gives us all the ability to use it: absorbing others souls to make our own stronger. Summoning their strongest trait and adding it to our arsenal. Most weak, small little improvements, but over time…” click, HUMMM, “enough strength to challenge even the gods–”

SLAM.

Commander Eagus gasped as he jerked backwards, his hand bleeding from where he had started to open up the watch tower model, a button beneath its roof, now cut in half as Aced’s blade ran it through. The Commander staggering backwards as he held his bleeding hand to himself, staring in horror at the broken watch tower, “...what did you do…?”

“I-I don’t know what you were doing,” Aced admitted, pulling up his sword from where he had lodged it into the model, holding it towards the commander as he guarded the model, “B-but I’m not simple, Commander. I’m not going to just stand here and let you finish whatever you were gearing up for. Soul magic!? I don’t think people's souls are something you should be absorbing! For a power boost!?”

The commander stared at the watch tower model, and then at Aced…before a crooked, horrified smile twisted the commanders features. “All of that work. Years of preparation… all for some kid who couldn’t keep the gate closedto step in at the absolute last second and… what’s your name again?”

“A…Aced.” Aced said, standing straighter. Trying to be intimidating, but also he felt… weird… trying to keep a straight face, but his back tensing as something odd ran through him. Like electricity, dancing on his skin. In his mouth. He could taste lightning. “What is–?”

“There’s really specific rules, for how soul magic works. You don’t have to cut someone down with your own hand. Traps count. Rher likes traps,” the commander said, giggling in tired despair, “But Rher likes tricks, too. And he has a mean sense of humor. That button on the watchtower? That was a connector. Meant to combine the wires that all of the other levers were charging. Wires connected down to the center of this actual tower, beneath the streets, to the doors of every crypt in the city…”

Aced could barely hear the commander. His body felt so odd. Like it was the most awake and aware and present he had ever been in his life, as he tried to rationalize, “A-and I stopped the crypts from opening? Because you didn’t press the button?”

“No, Aced. The button was meant to stop the blocker. Which you managed just fine with a slice,” The commander said, looking over his shoulder out the window, “We’d probably be able to hear them, if I opened the window. You know what the irony of the watch tower is? It’s meant to let us protect the city better, keep watch… but because of its height and resources? It’s also the safest place in the city. You’d really only have to wait to collect them. Can you feel it? What does it feel like?”

But Aced wasn’t listening to the commander now. Horror growing, he rushed to the window, to see what the commander was referring to…and his eyes widened in shock as he saw, pouring through the city, waves of the undead. The crypts all burst open, the dead finally making their escape. Fires were already starting as terrified citizens tried to dissuade their undead attackers by flames, to no avail…

“It’s fascinating. I won’t become a god myself. But I may have just picked the next god by pure error…”

But no one was around to hear the commander’s self-pitying monologue. Aced having already raced down the tower. Running to help. Running faster than he had ever run before, as power coursed through his veins.

Aced, and many others, would try. Some people would survive. It didn’t matter. The first night of the Festival of Termina, Neveram Village fell. It would be the first of Termina’s casualties.

-

“...s-s-soul magic?” Ventus whispered, trying desperately to see his mother through his tears, leaning his face into her palm as he held her, “What are you…?”

“I never wanted you to know,” Ventus’ mother whispered, gasping through labored breaths. Not far from them, Ventus’ father lay still, staring unseeingly into the sky. A battle with the cultists still raging behind them, as Terra, Amaina and Sebastian continued to fight along the mountainside. “I left Clock Town hoping to never live to see this day… I had hoped to hide away from the gods and their cruelty, in Ghibli. With you. My little boy…”

She smiled tiredly, the blood on her face shining in the morning light, oddly beautiful in this terrible moment, “But the Gods get all of us, one way or another. Only one of us has a chance to escape, Ventus. It’s too late for your father and I. But he gifted his to me. And I can give ours to you. Every little piece will help.”

“Mom, I don’t know what you’re saying… what do you mean one?” Ventus whispered.

She tried to answer, but she coughed. Coughed again. “There’s no time… so much I didn’t teach you…” she whispered, eyes starting to blur, unfocus, “Just know, Ventus, I want you to live. When it gets hard? When you have doubts? When you question if you should… know, if nothing else, I want you to live. I hope that’s justification enough. I love you, Ventus…”

Ventus stared as his mother gasped again. Once. Twice…

“Okay, but maybe just DIE ALREADY!? Why are you so hard to kill!?” Amaina whined, sending another burst of energy to Terra in her dance as two cultists stayed standing. They had, in Amaina’s opinion, been fighting for AAAGES! And after chasing them all the way here?! Just die! She was TIRED! 

The exhale that had initially been in fatigue became Terra bolstering himself up again as Amaina gave him a hand. He threw himself back towards the cultists, kicking out the feet of one while he lunged at the other with an overhead stab, barely getting more than a nick. 

It was far and beyond the time for quips, Terra’s expression set with dangerous focus. Things had already been serious when they finally caught up with Ranni’s cultists. Friends had already died, Ventus’ parents were in grave danger, the world was ending. But there had still been callouts, all allies boasting or grinning in the slim moments they had, a reassurance to each other. 

Then the cultists had decided to cut their losses. Not retreating, no. That would be too honorable for the followers of the Dark Witch. 

Laiya and Mark had been cut down. And Terra had been focused on little else but ensuring that their murderers would be quick to follow. 

(The little else had been ensuring Ventus got his damn moment with Laiya.)

With a grit-toothed grimace, Terra let the cultist push him off, only to use that momentum to slam down on the cultist he’d tripped, trying to stab his dagger right through the fucker’s neck. 

This time it landed true, and was excellent timing, as an arrow speered into the second cultists neck. Sebastian taking a steadying breath as he lowered his bow, looking around at the bloodbath around them. Taking in the various bodies… and then walking to the mountain ledge. Looking down the cliffside as he carefully knelt down…

“Ew.” Amaina said as Sebastian vomited over the side of the mountain, before looking around at the bodies, “.....ew OnO;”

Terra rolled off the choking, sputtering cultist, not paying much attention as the death throes weakened, splaying his legs out as he caught his breath. The idea to say he was getting too old for this on his lips, but…

He didn’t have time for that, did he? 

Almost dully he looked back at Sebastian--didn’t seem likely to trip, just collecting himself--and Amaina--a bit disturbed and probably exhausted, but alright--before he heaved himself up with a groan. Grief tensing through his face as his gaze finally landed back on Ventus. 

Quietly Terra walked back over to the kid (his kid…) and the body of one of his long-time friends. He crouched slightly behind and to the side of Ventus, asking softly, “...kiddo?”

Ventus wiped his eyes, before giving Terra a sad, uncertain look, “...do you know where ‘Clock Town’ is? It was the last thing mom ever told me. That she was from a place called Clock Town, and that there was something called Soul Magic, and… that she wished she had taught me more…”

Ventus looked sadly down at his mother, then over at his father. “...I want to know more about my parents. The sides of them I didn’t know. I just lost my chance to ask them who they are… I lost my chance…”

Ventus put his head in his hands. Not sobbing. But clearly struggling to keep himself together.

Okay, that was it. 

Terra scooted up and put his arms around Ventus, holding him tight. Hoping that within that structure and sanctuary, Ventus would feel safe enough to feel what he was feeling without fear. 

“There’s a lot of them you did know,” Terra said softly, rubbing Ventus’ back. “That you meant the world to them, their dedication and humor and love.” He smiled wanely. “Flames, kid, I didn’t know Laiya was from Clock Town. Knew she moved to Ghibli, but she had always seemed so excited to put the past behind her and embrace home… Guess there’s more that I wanna know too.”

He sighed softly. “Clock Town is in the dead center of Termina, not that far north from home, actually. Don’t know too much about it, and the moon did say for people to go there for this whole stuff, so…” Terra hesitated. He really didn’t know if that meant Clock Town was safer to go to, or more dangerous. 

But Ventus was asking, and that’s all that really mattered. 

Terra lightly scratched through Ventus’ hair, giving the kid a soft grin. “What say we drop Mai-Mai and Seb off at home then do some sightseeing up north, huh? Go see the place your mom grew up.”

Ventus sniffed, leaning into Terra’s chest, clutching at his clothes. Taking comfort in being held… before his hands gripped. Leaning back and looking up determinedly at Terra. “...she blamed the gods. She said they all get us, in the end.”

“The gods? I mean, yeah, they’re a bunch of dicks. Gods are generally dicks.” Amaina decided, heading over to Ventus and Terra, frowning as she saw Laiya and Mark, “...I really thought we were going to make it in time.”

“We did. It’s not our fault, we did our best,” Sebastian said, wiping his mouth as he staggered over too, “...still. Sorry Ventus.”

“It’s not our fault.” Ventus agreed, “They were alive when we got here. We did make it, they just didn’t play fair… appeasing their stupid gods…” Ventus huffed, wiping his eyes again, “Mom wished she had taught me more, and she wanted me to live. Maybe that means we should see where she grew up, and then keep our heads low, be safe… but I don’t want that. I want the gods to know they shouldn’t mess with us!”

“...what are we discussing?” Sebastian asked tiredly, “Fighting the gods?”

“Like the moon said?” Amaina asked.

It was easy to feel removed from the gods of Termina in their little valley. You couldn’t just look over the horizon and see one of their domains, the landscape wasn’t practically an extension of their power and form, there weren’t devotees around every corner. But Ghibli Valley was still part of Termina, and if nothing else, now, seeing the bodies of his friends, all because of a so-called god…

Terra couldn’t help the little smile that grew on his face in response to Ventus’ determination. Mark and Laiya would be aghast. The people he knew, who he had to carefully convince for ages to even let Ventus pick up a blade, would be terrified listening to their son declare an active vendetta against the most powerful beings in their world. 

Parents could have all sorts of wishes for their children, but at the end of the day, kids’ lives were their own. You just had to prepare them the best you could…and being by their side wasn’t a shabby consolation. 

“The gods don’t play fair either,” Terra cautioned, though the revenge-filled desire in his eyes made the words far from chastising, “They won’t be like fighting monsters, or skilled fighters. We’ll need to be a lot stronger than we are if we want a chance of making our voices heard.”

“I’m with you until the end of the line, kiddo,” Terra softly promised with words of unbreakable iron, before he looked up at the slightly older kids, “...but you guys aren’t obligated, especially to decide on the spot. There really isn’t shame in laying low for others to fight, and the village could use good fighters to start putting things back together after this.”

“What, you want us to just head on home and go back to our lives? While literally the last kid in Ghibli goes off to, what… fight gods?” Sebastian said, glancing warily at at the fallen couple, “...I can’t do that. I don’t know about Amaina, but I can’t–”

“Heck yeah! We’re going to fight some gods!?” Amaina shouted, hopping a few times in place, her hair bouncing in excitement, “I’ve been wanting to fight gods all day! Since the moon started talking! Besides, we need to avenge your parents, Ventus. They were one of ours! And so are you!” Amaina smiled, brightening up, “It’s nice to be a part of people. The good and bad times. We had the good ones… but I’m here for the bad ones too.”

“Thanks, Amaina… Sebastian…” Ventus said, looking to Terra, “...you’re really okay with this?”

Terra gave Amaina and Sebastian a grateful look. He didn’t want them in danger either, but fighting would be a lot easier with a deadshot and Wild Magic user on their side. 

“Honestly? No,” Terra laughed softly. “The thought of seeing you go blade to blade with a god kinda makes me wanna throw up. But you’re choosing to go, choosing what you think is right, and more than being scared, I couldn’t live with myself locking you up in some bunker just so you’d be safe.”

“...and while there’s nothing more we can do for Mark and Laiya, we can still fight back against the reason for their deaths,” he said, eyes darkening for a moment, “And maybe in the process we can prevent a few more. I get that. So all that considered, yeah.”

Brightening again, Terra flexed one of his arms, giving Ventus a bright, confident smile. “Let’s go kick some divine hiney!!”

-

While many children across the land of Termina grew up with fairytales about the gods, many of them tended to be entirely fantastical or cautionary. Josie Sylga grew up with stories about Rher, and they were anything but fantasy. He’d grown into stories of the Termina Festival, the great big bang of the next world with the one new god to rule it; stories of the nature of souls, not an infinite well but something that tied every person in existence together, and if you were clever enough, something you could change the distribution of. Stories about the honor and glory of being part of the greatest story of all. 

He supposed he had a patron to thank, for the heads up he got, letting him take stage before all the fun was over. 

Across the land, heading out of Clock Town, a dark knight rode out on a great moped so beastly one would wonder if it wasn’t alive itself as it roared and churned through fields. And as fields turned to rock, then sand. The Death Knight leaving direction to luck as well. 

Spotting three lonely figures across the dusty plain, the knight clad in black armor and a helmet with rings that almost looked like horns tore across towards them, hefting a large lance, bone-white but crackling with black and red energy, every once in a while twitching as if in a wince…or suppressed rage. 

“Whelp… I’ll admit, getting run out of town wasn’t on my bingo-card today. Especially considering Lauriam isn’t even with us.” Demyx sighed, opening up his canister and dumping some water over his hair to cool himself while Abigail looked over the steaming moped, “But our ride breaking down, what… are we even two miles out?”

“Not even that. I can still see the water-tower from here.” Kairi said, “I can’t believe they accused us of murdering the baron. We didn’t do anything! I don’t even think Lauriam did it, he’d have done it in front of everyone if he had actually decided to go through with it.”

“I think so to. I’m worried about what it means that he disappeared the same night the Baron was murdered, but I don’t think he did it either,” Abigail said, standing up with a stretch… before swaying in place, “Oooh.”

“Hey, be careful! You lost that arm yesterday, don’t forget! Kairi and I can only do so much, you still have to rest a little!” Demyx said, hurriedly taking out his guitar and starting to strum another small healing song, “Oooooh girl, be caaaareful~~ Your arm is LITERALLY goooone~”

“Thanks, Demyx, inspiring songs, as always.” Abigail sighed, resting against the bolted in side-seat for the moped, “I think the engine just overheated. It needs either time or new coolant. I don’t know. We might want to consider walking, guys.”

“To where!?” Demyx asked, looking around the long stretch of wasteland on either side of them, “Where are we even going!? The town will hang us if we go back, Lauriam’s long gone, what, are we heading to one of the freaking Gods?! I’m not ready to die!”

“Maybe we can head to Ghibli? Or Clock Town?” Kairi suggested, trying to remember a map she had mostly seen briefly in her geography classes, “Not Luna Burgh, they’re crazy over there.”

“Well, whatever we do…” Abigail frowned, seeing dust kicking up down the road, “...we should consider now if we want to hide or flag down whoever is riding towards us. They might be able to help, or we might be right in the way of bandits.”

“Help? Oh!” Demyx lit up, smiling as he strummed his guitar excitedly, “I see them! Come on, our luck isn’t that bad, let’s at least ask if they have any extra coolant on them! I’ll flag them down!”

“Just be careful Demyx…” Kairi warned him, looking up at the moon glaring down at them, “These aren’t ‘lucky’ times. We might not want to test ours.”

“You guys are so negative, it’ll be fine. HEY! HEEEY! Over here!” Demyx called, waving his hand at the approaching rider, “SOS!”

It seemed that the rider saw the flag down immediately, and was heading straight for them. Incredibly promptly. Super directly. Beelining, you could s--

Oh, he wasn’t slowing down at all, huh. 

Standing from the seat, one hand one the handles, the Death Knight raised his lance aloft, taking aim at Demyx before swiping at him as he narrowly swerved to avoid collision, a trail of inky spots left in the weapon’s trail. 

“Woah, slow down there bud–OH FUCK FUCK FUCK I WAS WRONG!” Demyx shouted, throwing himself backwards with a screech as the blade swung above his entire body, scrambling through the dirt as he hurried to the girls, “I WAS WRONG I WAS WRONG EVERYTHING IS BAD!”

“Demyx!” Kairi gasped, rushing over to help him up, grabbing his arm and yanking him to his feet at the two ran to the other side of the moped, hoping to use it as an obstacle between themselves and the attacker. 

Meanwhile, Abigail glared at the turning motorbike, raising her left hand and pointing at the person aboard: “Fireblast!” 

-

Somewhere else, Xigbar felt a jolt run up his spine, hearing ‘Fireblast’ shouted into his mind. “Oh, what? Yeah, sure.” He said, lending his power to his ward, “Good luck!”

-

PHWOOM!

The entirety of the moped pivoting into a side slide, a rush of sand spraying out, the Death Knight literally cut through the stream of fire with his lance. Unharmed and untouched, though flames now licked at either side of him, almost creating a channel or a lane between the three reluctant outlaws and their doom. A battle arena becoming literal around them. 

“Hey, not everything is bad~” an almost jovial though slightly muffled voice came from under the imposing helmet. “You’re about to die in the festival! Don’t be a party pooper and celebrate a little, hey?”

With a growling rev, the Death Knight drove forward again, aiming for a broader swipe. 

It was almost less a dodge and more just the Knight aiming carelessly, Abigail dodging to the left, just out the swipes range. As she dodged, she tried to swipe another “FIREBLAST!” towards their attacker.

It went wide. She basically shot right into the sky. 

“Abigail!” Demyx shouted, standing up on top of the moped, strumming his guitar hurriedly, whispering to himself as he started to sweat, “Come on, Come on, Find her tune…” 

…fuck it. Her favorite bar song!

Demyx strummed as loudly as he could the song, humming the lyrics fitfully to himself as he played a song he knew Abigail felt more confident when heard playing. Abigail, in turn, startled when she heard it… before mustering a slightly amused smirk. This was not a wingman situation, Demyx…

But honestly, it did help her concentrate and eased some of her nerves. Letting the song fill her head as she steadied herself, aiming more carefully. “FIREBLAST!”

“...oh, you know, that’s kind of a jam,” Josie hummed more to himself than trying to make himself heard above the din. Definitely the sort of thing he could schmoove to, maybe with some pretty thing he met at the bar, the two of them moving onto the-- “Ah shit!”

Just distracted enough, the Death Knight was only able to raise his lance as he turned his moped around, and that wasn’t enough to disrupt the fireball this time. Still, it was more or less a blast of warmth thanks to his armor, but getting distracted in battle wouldn’t do him any favors. He had souls to collect and gods to kill, a plot of their world to move along. 

Staying a little farther back now, Josie just raised his lance higher, before cracking it downward, a flood of devastating energy flaring out.

“AH!” Kairi screamed, as a blast knocked her backwards, having just dared come around from behind the moped to try to assist Abigail. It knocked her to her ass, as above her Demyx gave a startled yelp, struggling to stay upright on the moped itself.

To both of their surprises, his strumming of his guitar didn’t falter, still boosting Abigail. 

Abigail groaned as she was forced several steps back from the blast, feeling it like a punch to her chest. Struggling to take a breath, she glared at the Kight. She needed  something other Fireblast, it hadn’t made a dent on him! 

Abigail didn’t entirely understand her own abilities yet–she had only gotten a patron literally the day before, sacrificing her hand for it–but she had been encouraged to experiment to see what she could do. Maybe she could blast him back the way he had her!? Like… like a gust of wind to knock him over! 

“GUST!” She shouted.

-

“Eh? Gust?” Xigbar frowned, wandering through Clock Town, “Uuuuh, sure.”

-

Wind blew out to the Knight.

It was now… breezy.

Josie paused for a second before a chuckle echoed from his helmet. “Thanks, cutie, was starting to feel like I needed a cool off from the desert~ How about I return the favor?”

Maybe in reverse, since getting rid of something uplifting wasn’t exactly equivalent. But for all that the purple-haired woman was making herself out to be the main combatant, that wasn’t exactly theory, was it? 

Smarter to get rid of the support, first. 

Revving towards them again, the Death Knight held his lance forward, aiming for Demyx as he lined up for another close-shave joust. 

“Hmmm–hmmm ex’ boyfriends–OH FUCK!” Demyx shouted, hopping off the top of the moped and rolling forward, tucking his guitar against his stomach as he spun against the dirt… and unfurling strumming EVEN HARDER as he shouted, “SHE’S PULLING BIGGER HOTTIES THAN HER EX-BOYFRIENDS!”

“Damn right.” Abigail whispered, realizing she had to get this guy off his bike, aiming her next blast at the ground in front of where he was driving, “ICEBLAST!”

-

“Sorry pumpkin, no can do. I don’t touch the stuff.” Xigbar said, watching the Axeman carve in some new poor bastards head. 

-

….nothing happened. “Shit.” Abigail whispered.

“WAIT!” Kairi shouted, suddenly lurching forward, putting herself between Demyx and Abigail and the Knight, putting her hands up to him, “Please! You said something about the festival! We’re not playing! We’re not going after the gods! We have no reason to fight!”

Perhaps surprisingly--or not, considering how engaged he had been with them so far--the Death Knight paused as he swiveled his bike again, tilting his head a bit at the teen pleading with him. The rings around his helmet casting shadows like an astrolabe on the sand. 

“...oh honey,” Josie called with almost a gentle understanding…if not for the sharp reality underneath, “Everyone’s celebrating, gods or no. The world is Rher’s board now, and we’ll party until it all burns down.”

With that said, he lifted his lance to the sky again, but this time the whirling dark energy started early, wrapping around the head of the weapon like a whirlpool before he charged forward at the group. 

“Kairi, get back!” Abigail shouted, rushing forward to try to grab Kairi. 

But it was another blast against all of them, this time all three of them thrown into the dirt. Not horribly injured, but all clearly stunned and trying to catch their breath as they were knocked onto their backs, Demyx’s guitar falling from his hands in his tumble. 

Demyx scrambled to go pick up his guitar again, as Kairi groaned, pushing herself as she looked worriedly back at the Knight. Reluctantly, she pulled out a scalpel, looking at his armor, wondering what her odds were if maybe she aimed for the joints… somehow. While he was riding…carrying a long-range weapon…

“…we need to run,” Kairi realized, before looking back at Demyx, “DEMYX! START THE MOPED!”

“A-ah!? Ah! Okay!?” Demyx shouted, hurrying to the moped. He threw himself on top of it, whispering to himself, “Please, please, just start!” as he turned the key. 

FRRRM…. GRRRM… Putter…

“Come on you bastard! Start!” Demyx shouted, kicking the engine from where he was sitting. 

Abigail, in turn, staggered up, standing in front of Kairi as she wanted, holding up her hand at their attacker, “F…Fireblast!”

Fire sparked in her hand… and then engulfed it.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

…

Josie snorted. 

Stepping off his bike, the machine purring and seeming to stretch out in a momentary break, he walked towards the immolating woman, a low voice singing out in a relaxed rhythm:

“The devil went down to Quarry, looking for a soul to steal.”

The fire reflected off the black armor, the small slats revealing what, in that moment, looked like the red eyes of death as Josie lifted his lance. 

“Hope makes you blind and puts you behind,

Makes you willing to make a deal.”

With a quick, efficient swipe, he put her out of her suffering.

-

(It wouldn’t look that way to Abigail. Noting the player fight going on, Ienzo had devoted his whole attention to the screen observing his boyfriend’s group, his Lexicon open and, when he saw the writing on the wall, starting to glow. And he concentrated.)

(As the fires engulfed Abigail, they’d feel…warm. No more irritating than a sunny day. The perfect kind of sunny day that lulled you into listlessness, and tempted you into a hazy, dazy nap…)

“You’re up, Templar,” Ienzo informed, lulling Abigail’s consciousness into a sort of cocoon-like daydream. Though, considering the brutal death all the others saw, Josie had certainly won his prize. 

Temp nodded, lifting his hood and, as he did, disappearing among its folds, stepping forward into the void.

-

As time froze for everyone but Josie–thank you, Doppio–The Reaper stepped out from the graying, dark world around him. A dark void staring back at The Knight for a moment. Abigail, frozen and engulfed in fire, as Kairi stood frozen, half reaching out to her, while Demyx froze mid-twist of the key again.

“...” The Reaper didn’t say, before reaching out his hand to Abigail’s burning form. A palm that at first glance looked like it had a black glove there, but at second glance was just darkness given shape, gently reaching up…

A blue silhouette of Abigail stepped outside of herself. Catching herself on The Reapers palm as he helped steady her floaty, wispy form. The silhouette staring with an almost sleepy dreariness at The Reaper, as he held her hand, turning back to The Knight.

“You’ve earned the Sacrificial Soul,” The Reaper told Josie, “So named for her deeds, slicing herself to pieces for the lives of others, and standing between Death and her companions. With her soul, you have earned an ability, and new knowledge, known only to you.”

“When summoning the Sacrificial Soul, you summon her Patron Minor Deity,” The Reaper explained, “Who can offer benefits… for a sacrifice. Use her ability wisely. Her ghost will follow you. You cannot refuse your gift of haunting.”

The Reaper gently led The Sacrificial Soul to Josie, the soul sighing as she seemed to fall inside of him. Being absorbed. A constant presence.

“As for your gift of knowledge: the Festival is not a fair tournament for all. There are not hundreds of potential winners.” The Reaper said, “There are 32, including yourself. Now 31. Only 31 people alive have been chosen as possible replacements for the gods. You struck down the first.”

“Do you have any questions?” The Reaper asked, “Ruinous Soul?”

Josie knew about soul magic, sure. That the energy of their world was finite, and thus why the Termina Festival existed, to keep it going, but also that it applied on a smaller scale, the energy of people something that continually transferred between them. 

However, other than that electric, tingly feeling, he’d never seen it himself. Not for, apparently, the people that mattered. 

Josie’s eyebrows raised in surprise as everything froze and the Guide of Death itself came to bestow upon him his prize. The soul of the purple-haired woman guided out of her now dead body, and into him. Strengthening him. Becoming part of him. Though, at the perks special souls apparently had…

“...pff,” Josie chuckled, “I sign off with some ominous song about the folly of warlocks and I end up with the ability of one. Oh well, can’t complain~”

“Thanks for the tip, hot stuff,” he winked at The Reaper, bringing a hand up to trail it against the back of The Reaper’s as it finished guiding The Sacrificial Soul to Josie. “I was already ready to party down with the whole world, but it seems I have some VIPs to sniff out for a good time~”

Eyes gleaming under his helm, Josie grinned, full of teeth, as he took in the frozen forms of Kairi and Demyx. “These two part of the 31 too?”

“...they are indeed.” The Reaper said, lowering his arm and stepping back, “And that is your question, Ruinous.”

And he disappeared.

“ABIGAIL!” Kairi screamed, trying to reach for Abigail, but flinching backwards as her friend was sliced nearly in half, Abigail’s scream silenced as her body crumbled in its broken flames, “ABBY!!”

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, start, START!” phro–phroo–VROOM!! “KAIRI!” 

“Abigail…” Kairi whispered, still not having entirely come to grips with what she had just seen… before she tore her gaze away, running for Demyx, as he turned them moped towards her. 

Josie felt the licks of energy still flaring through him as everything snapped into motion once more. Almost half-heartedly he ran after the red-headed teen, but as she hopped onto the blond’s moped and they rode away, he slowed to a leisurely stop. Reaching up to pull his helmet off--it really was a bit too sunny in the desert for black metal, hoo--as he watched them tear into the horizon. 

“...ha~!” he delightedly laughed to himself, doing a little spin on his heels as he walked back to his bike, paying no mind to the smoldering corpse on the ground. “Well, Miss Ghost, we’ll be seeing your friends again soon. But for now?”

Shielding his eyes from the morning sun, Josie looked at the water tower peaking up in the opposite direction from where the two special souls had fled. “Whaddya say we get a little experience working together?”

-

Abigail took a breath. Another breath. Another…

When she opened up her eyes, she was in Clock Town. That usual initial bewilderment as her mind struggled to remember what was real and what was part of the dream…

…before she harrumphed, standing up and looking around the group as everyone pushed themselves off the ground. Looking for a certain red-haired teen…

“Oi!” She shouted, stomping through the crowd when she spotted him, hands clenched into fists, glaring at him as she stormed over. The others, not quite aware what had happened, looking uncertainly over at her. Had something happened again? She looked… “You! What’s your name again? Josie?”

Not waiting for an answer, Abigail jabbed to grab Josie’s wrist, throwing his arm over his head as she shouted, “WE’VE GOT OUR FIRST PLAYER KILLER! COME SAY CONGRATS!”

“...HAH!” Kaito called from a distance, “NOOOO! Augh, I KNEW I wasn’t gonna get it because I didn’t leave the city! Should have guessed it’d be my fellow Clocker!” 

“Oh wow! Congrats Josie!” Sora called, the group starting to form around Josie as others started to give their congratulations, “Who did you kill!? Who’s our first loss!?”

“Guess.” Abigail groaned, letting Josie’s wrist go, “Wild guess.”

Josie’s eyebrows had raised a little as he spotted, uh, uhhhh Abigail, right, head over to him, still thinking about what he’d say, but she didn’t let him get a word in before--!! Declaring to the whole group their first player kill. 

A little relieved she didn’t have sore feelings over it--it was part of the point of the game, and he didn’t feel bad for it, but still, no reason not to acknowledge hurt feelings--he laughed brightly and put more oomph into the victory pose she’d pulled him into, giving the forming crowd a grin. 

“Hey, don’t let that groan fool you,” he encouraged the group, getting his arm back, “Abigail and Demyx put up a hell of a fight! It was straight out of something you’d read in a kick-ass action novel. Though, sorry, uh, Kairi, right?” Josie nodded to the teen with a more sheepish smile. “Think cooler heads and reason would’ve worked on a few characters, but I’m out for blood.”

“Not an exaggeration in the slightest,” Ienzo hummed, a bit awkwardly walking through the crowd to go up to Abigail, giving her a look over. “As our first player death, however, how was the experience? I tried to ensure the actual moment of dying wouldn’t be as traumatic an experience.”

“Aw, Abby, no!!!” Sam gasped from the crowd, letting out a commiserating groan. “You made that whole plan for funky magic stuff and everything!”

“I did! It was going to be so cool! I had a patron and everything! What the heck happened to my ice spell!?” Abigail demanded, spotting Xigbar, who was chilling on one of the building roofs.

“Eh? Sorry, didn’t think you’d ask for ice. Hate the cold. It’s chilly.” Xigbar pouted, “No can do.”

“Sheesh… and dying felt fine?” Abigail told Ienzo, shrugging, “It was the most ‘dream’ like moment I’ve had here. I felt alarmed, sure, but it didn’t feel real or anything. If anything, I think I mostly just got confused. It was like spinning in place and then stopping suddenly. I didn’t really know what was happening until…did I just straight up go into your whole body?” Abigail realized, looking to Josie.

“It seemed like an apt way to express you becoming someone he could summon.” The Templar said, from the edge of the crowd, “You’re a spirit now, there’s certain things that feel natural for spirits. Physical ways of being become more suggestions, coloring takes on symbolic patterns, you lose all earthly physical restrictions–”

“I KNEW I WAS NAKED I JUST DIDN’T LOOK DOWN!” Abigail shouted, pointing at Temp, “PUT MY CLOTHES BACK ON!”

“Eeh!? Y-you can’t see anything still! Like I said, your form is mostly symbolic–”

“CLOTHES! NEXT TIME I APPEAR!”

“Better do it, she’ll kick your ass in real life.” Sebastian warned.

Josie snorted a bit. “Lucky for me. Not a fan of icy death myself--I probably would’ve been in a lot more trouble if you pulled that spell off.”

Nodding attentively Ienzo took down Abigail’s feedback. That was good. Within the framework Amaina built it took some finesse to establish a dual perception of reality. They needed to let deaths be as brutal and visceral as they were, as was the theme of the game, but there wasn’t any ‘play’ in putting someone through a facsimile of their own death, so their own perception needed to be something different. Being disoriented was a fine compromise, he thought, and Abigail didn’t seem to consider it disappointing or anti-climatic. 

If anything, she felt more strongly about--

“Uh, yeah,” Josie sheepishly laughed at The Templar, “Don’t really feel great about having an unwillingly naked chick in my head either. Or body? Or…however that works.”

“Within the game’s lore, her spiritual energy has melded into yours, strengthening it and giving you access to certain powers,” Ienzo offhandedly explained, still adjusting his notes, “In more technical senses? Abigail will act as a sort of invisible observer tethered to you like a balloon. Once other players have died, you will all be able to converse freely, but a dead player may converse directly to the player that killed them as well.”

Xehanort smiled lightly, tilting his head in intrigue. “We’re going to populate the game world with ghosts? That’ll be interesting in the end-game.”

“Indeed… for what is life without death’s observing eyes? Light without shadow to give it true depth–”

“YOU ARE HERE! Ansem, what the heck!?”

“Oh…” 

As Riku hurried over to Ansem and Namine, scolding them for not being clearer that Ansem was participating–both Ansem and Namine looked chastised, despite neither of them having been trying to hide it literally at all–Templar lifted his hand to catch the groups attention. “To clarify, to speak to their killer, ghosts have to be allowed to speak by said player. When you’re not summoned? You all can talk to each other with all of your memories, as yourselves. But when you’re summoned to speak? You’re the character again.”

“We thought it’d possibly lead to some cool strategies, or maybe some interesting conversations,” Alter Ego explained, the cat landing on Temp’s shoulder, “And yes, you can have ghostly clothes, if you all want to be seen by each other. But only your killer can see you. It’s a haunting. Your characters chance to reflect on their lives, if the killer is up to hearing it.”

“Well, hopefully I get killed by someone who’s up to hearing some music then… though, man! We survived, Kairi! I thought we were for sure goners,” Demyx grinned at Kairi, who let out a full body sigh as she nodded, “Though, our odds are still REALLY bad! We’re both support classes, one of our fighters got kidnapped and has now run off and the other is dead! Thanks for defending us Abigail, but we are still so fucked.”

“Believe in you!” Abigail lied, forming a heart with her hands to Demyx and Kairi, who grinned worryingly back at her.

“Everyone has a shot of winning this,” Roxas insisted, Ventus nodding beside him, “Maybe you’ll stumble onto something that will help?”

“I think we’d need a miracle, at this rate. Demyx and I specifically picked underpowered classes. And now we’re running in the desert, no stronger and half of our people gone.” Kairi sighed, “I’m not exactly going to talk my way out of this, and I doubt Demyx can sing our way out either.”

“At least Josie is distracted right now?” Abigail pointed out.

“Oh, that’s right,” Temp looked to Ienzo, “We should announce the lost cities.”

“Sorry,” Lauriam smiled apologetically at Demyx and Kairi--and Abigail, to an extent, even if it was too late for her--, “I didn’t mean to split us up so early. Dilan and I are still in the desert region, so there’s probably a good chance we’ll meet up again? I mean, there’s probably some failsafe to keep people from wandering in the wilderness and missing the whole game, rig--”

“Doubt it,” Marluxia sang-songed, before snickering. “We’ve literally been walking in the middle of nowhere for three sessions. If someone wanted to hide out in a tree, it damn well seems like they could do it.”

“Ah, you’re right,” Ienzo softly agreed. Flipping pages of the Lexicon, Ienzo splayed one of his hands over the chart inside before lifting it, a scoreboard of sorts appearing in glimmering lines in the air above Clock Town square. 

“After tonight’s session, we have--!” he psychically projected his voice through the dreamscape, “One player death, and the towns of Neveram and Quarry are now uninhabitable! While player items may still be obtained, they are now full PvP and PvE zones!”

“Neveram…” Linnea murmured to herself as she looked at the world statistics above them, before looking worriedly around for Aced. There was only one player death, so he was obviously alright, but… “Aced, sweetie?”

“...” Aced gave Linnea a small, tired look… before he grinned slightly sadly, “I didn’t do well at my side-quest…”

“Are you kidding!? You’re doing great!” Amaina shouted, having hung off Ienzo’s shoulder to read over his book, pointing into the stats, “You’re one of our strongest players now! Yay! But also boo!!”

“I ended up killing a lot of mobs,” Aced admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “But I didn’t save the city. If anything, it was my fault the city fell…”

“No, not really,” Alter Ego said, stepping through the air and landing on Aced’s shoulder next, “The quest we gave you was very difficult, basically every decision would have led to the catacombs being blown open. In fact, that was always the plan, to have the city get overrun by zombies. We just wanted to give you a chance to prevent it. But you didn’t cause it.”

“And, you saved more of the NPC’s than we were expecting,” Temp admitted, “Even outside of the leveling up you did? You now have a following, NPC’s who are dedicated to you. It really does make you one of our strongest players now. You’re a considerable threat.”

“I… well, I mean, I mostly did that by accid–”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.” Xigbar said, idly kicking his legs against the building wall, “Aced’s always been one of our stronger fighters, of my little group. It’s getting him to STOP throwing himself into danger that’s always my biggest damn hurdle. Nice to see him finally getting to vent it somewhere. Heh, it’s going to be fun watching him kick all of your asses~”

“...” Aced gave Xigbar a startled, shocked look… before grinning somewhat excitedly, “Yeah. I’m a bit of a fighter.”

Hearing what went down, Linnea’s worry melted away into a warm smile. It would be a smile Aced could recognize, the sort of expression she wore in more private moments when a supervisor had had an ‘accident’ in the factory and needed to leave. It was warmth, with a sharp viciousness underneath. 

“That’s my boy,” Linnea said proudly, pulling Aced in for a hug. “Not about to let some violent plot stop you in your tracks. I will still hope you’ll catch up to us, though.” She hid a laugh behind a hand. “Especially with a big power-up, I think we’ll need a hand in the ‘boss fight’.”

Invi smiled softly to herself, watching all this from the side. Just like his initial idea, this might’ve not been what Aced expected, but it seemed like it turned out well. She was glad. She thought he’d do well as a ‘hero of the people’ type character.

Ventus watched as the group chattered, a few still going to congratulate Josie. He felt a little subdued himself. Odd. 

His hurt had felt… real. In the moment. And it was still lingering.

He wasn’t sure why though. No part of him believed the people in the game were his parents. He thought of the woman who died in his arms and didn’t feel much of anything. An NPC he met just as soon as she was dying, acting theatrically like she was hamming it up for the back row.

But the pain he had felt at his lost chance? His lost opportunity to know them? That felt…

“...” Ventus wandered over to Terra. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Terra greeted Ventus back with a smile, turning his attention from the congratulations and game mechanics talk all to his son, “Nice fight this session, huh? Even if we did get a substantial one, with all this talk of leaderboards, I’m starting to feel a little behind.” Terra laughed. 

Though, soon, he sobered a bit, giving Ventus a fond look. “You doin’ alright? Know they’re just NPCs, but not every day someone dies in your arms, even in a dream.”

“I’m alright. I’m a Shard. We’re used to the idea of death.” Ventus said, looking up warily at Terra, his golden eyes peering through his dark bangs, “...can I ask you a mean question, without meaning to be mean?” 

Sure, but even that was different from someone dying in your arms. But if the kid was alright, he was alright. 

Terra chuckled. “Go ahead, shoot. I won’t lie, I’ll be impressed if it’s one that manages to be mean in a way I haven’t heard before.”

“...” Ventus rubbed his arm, feeling uncomfortable. Maybe it wouldn’t bother Terra, but it had been something Ventus hadn’t really felt comfortably asking about in depth yet, “...what… are you?”

“I know you’re a ‘Nobody’,” Ventus said, staring at the ground, “I know you’re a construct. But… Aqua treats you like you’re real. Like you’re my…” Ventus frowned looking away, “...I don’t understand. You can’t be my father. So what are you?”

Terra’s smile was both more amused, and softer. “Sorry, that’s definitely one I’ve heard before. Though it’s a question a bit easier to answer these days, at least emotionally.”

“Ventus,” Terra said gently, but not as if he were handling something fragile. Just kindness given gently. “I’m not your father. The Terra that shares half your DNA, that shared his hopes with Aqua about you coming into this world, who was so excited for you, he died some years ago.” Sorrow colored his gaze. “And that’s something I’m truly sorry for. Because I know how much he wanted to meet you, and that I want you to have had the chance to meet him.”

“But, I am the Terra that’s part of your mom. A part of her that’s been here through all the things Terra was, when it comes to you, if a little different, and that’s over the damn moon to be able to do this. Play a crazy mindspace game and have chats and see the person you’ve grown up to be,” Terra explained, grin still true despite the ache of grief he’d just spoken of, despite the grief that still hurt, even if it was healing, from never having gotten to be one of the people helping Ventus grow up for all these years. “If it helps you get your head around it, you can think of me like that--a part of your mom, even if I look different and have a different name. To be honest, even we have a hard time defining things, let alone explaining it to anyone we’re introducing the whole ‘Nobody’ thing to. I may be a construct, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I, or any of the other Nobodies, aren’t real.”

“It’s kind of…we’re real because we had people who wanted us to be real so much it happened.” Terra chuckled, “And isn’t that kind of nice? Not sayin’ there aren’t any identity issues with that, but I think it’s sweet, being real through the eyes of others.”

…it still didn’t really make sense. But Ventus could see how it was real to Terra. And he could understand the idea that this was another part of Aqua. One that had known–and lost–his father. Ventus could work from there.

“It is kind of nice,” Ventus admitted, glancing over at Sora, Kairi, Riku, Ansem, Namine, Xion and Roxas, all in a group, excitedly talking about the game, “...I asked Roxas, once. While I was training with Ienzo and Zexion, what he knew about my father. He said almost nothing. That he had never met him. He said you were the only father he had ever had.”

“I didn’t know what to think about that. Or what to think about him… I’ve dreamt about him before.” Ventus said, nodding to Roxas, “And I dreamt of… I don’t know if it was Marluxia or Lauriam. I dreamt of them though. I’ve dreamt of you, or, maybe it was Terra, the other Terra…”

“I’ve dreamt about all of you a lot,” Ventus said softly, “Long before I met Aqua. I recognized her when I first saw her. That's why I approached her. I still don’t know what to think about it, that all the people who have been in my dreams are just suddenly… real.”

“...I miss my brother a lot,” Ventus said, brow furrowing in sudden pain, “I’ve had dreams where he tells me he wants me to leave Luminary, to follow you guys. But I’ve had dreams where he feels betrayed by me too. Finding some new family, now that mine’s gotten… hard. I think both dreams are just me talking to myself, but I can’t help but wonder what he would have thought of all of this. Of all of those people over there who think of themselves as my siblings… they’re nice, but I don’t know them. They’re not my family. Not Sabre.” 

“...but my own parents have never felt like Sabre either,” Ventus admitted, “They don’t love me, they just… talk at me, when they talk to me at all. I was supposed to be a weapon they could use. It feels weird when they talk to me now like I’m meant to be an heir. It feels like they’re struggling to get used to the idea too. They’ll forget, in the middle of talking to me, that I’m no longer disposable, and make some threat or say something offhand about usefulness, and then catch themselves. I never felt small or insignificant before, until they started trying to treat me like I matter, and it feels so… foreign and fake.”

“It doesn’t feel fake with you,” Ventus said softly, “...strange. But not fake.” 

Terra nodded a bit, sighing softly through his nose as he looked over to his other kids. “Terra died a bit before the gang came to the factory, so when Aqua and I took them in, well, it was the two of us. If you did want to know more about him from a parent-child perspective, you’d have to ask Laurie and Mars.” Terra smiled softly. “Terra was their dad for a long time before I came around, I’m sure they’d have some great memories to share with you, if you were curious.”

He knew it was a sore spot for his sons, still, but grief was love. Even with the pain of how it ended, he did genuinely think there’d be happy times they’d enjoy getting to share with their brother. 

Who didn’t consider himself a brother, but…

Terra controlled his anger into a sharp exhale, hearing how Ventus’ parents treated him. And while they weren’t as familiarly close as their characters were in the game, Terra still reached over to give Ventus’ shoulder a squeeze. “I’d hope it doesn’t feel fake, kiddo--you matter a whole hellova lot to me.”

Hesitating for a moment, Terra deliberated on whether he wanted to tell Ventus this…but he really wasn’t someone that overthought his words that much. “It’s pretty insulting, actually,” he huffed out, levelling a grim frown at the buildings around them, “Your folks went through all that trouble to steal you, and then didn’t even treat you like a gem? Just skipping over the honor it is to be a parent, let alone yours. Know Aqua’s said enough her opinion of ‘em when you two’ve been out and about, but…seriously. How disrespectful can you get? Know the whole brood’s yours, but from how you tell it, Ven, your brother was the only one with any sense in the bunch.”

“...sucks not being able to ask him for advice, for real,” Terra calmed with a small, lamenting smile at Ventus, “It’s not the same as your relationship with Saber, or the situation. I was made in part from Aqua’s memories of the other Terra, but that still doesn’t mean I’m him. I can’t speak for him, no matter how many guesses I can make or memories I can consult, and there’ve been a lot of times I’ve wished I could just ask him things. What to do, how I should handle things, what he would’ve thought…and it sucks, that I can’t. As much as I value freedom, sometimes it does hurt having to make your own decisions, without anyone else.”

“...” Ventus frowned, looking up at Terra, “...did you know him? The other Terra?”

Terra gave Ventus a strained smile for a moment before looking at the others still mingling and talking about that night’s game session. 

“...walk with me a bit, kid?”

As they parted from the crowd a little more, Terra explained, “As a part of Aqua, yeah, I knew the other Terra. But I know that’s not exactly what you’re asking.”

They walked a little further. But Terra still spoke more softly. 

“Your mom used to have another Nobody, before me. Something that isn’t actually that weird in our group, though less the more recent you’re talking.” Terra glanced at Ventus, bright gold eyes glimmering. “Her name was Aaxqu, and she loved Terra, and his Nobody Raxter, as much as a person could. As much as Aqua loved them.”

“I know I don’t gotta preach grief to you, Ven,” Terra said softly, “But your dad’s death was real hard on them. On everyone, but Terra was Aqua’s best friend in the world. They’d met as kids, and telling a story of either of their lives wouldn’t be complete without talking the other. So losing him…it was tough.”

Terra paused for a few moments, taking a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair. “...to be honest, I’m not sure I wanna explain this to you. Meeting you at 13 or no, you’re still my kid, and this ain’t really something Aqua’s proud of. Something either of us want, in you being able to trust us, or feelin’ safe, or any of that.”

“To cope?” Terra said, evidently having decided to tell Ventus anyway, “Aaxqu agreed to change. She missed Terra and Raxter too, and in a way, it felt like she’d never be away from them. So Aqua channeled all her memories of Terra, the parts of her mind that had been him through the island and all that they shared, the parts of his that were hers, and Aaxqu took them.”

Terra gave Ventus a small grin. “And became me.”

“......I had a dream, about a woman made of water once.”

Ventus closed his eyes, walking slowly alongside Terra, as he recalled, “It was a scary dream at first. I dream a lot about falling. Sometimes it’s falling through the sky, like I’m a comet, sometimes dropping into large holes in the ground that are endless. Sometimes it’s… water. Like I’m sinking.”

“...someone usually catches me, or tries to,” Ventus said, “And once, it was a woman in the water. She moved through it like she was dancing. She seemed to both be the water itself and somehow was something else too, like she could shift from one to the other. She spun around me like a whirlpool. She was… pretty.” Ventus opened his eyes, “Happy.”

“...you grin the way she does,” Ventus said, looking up at Terra, “...I’m sorry you lost your husband. I’m sure you miss him.”

Terra didn’t miss a step, but it was a near thing, as his eyes bugged in surprise. The whole ‘Ventus dreaming about them’ was a head-scratcher, for sure. In the bigger picture, they could say it was some psychic nonsense, and that made more or less enough sense to accept. Getting more into it, the prof was making a theory, trying to tie in the vision of Ventus Lauriam had seen in the island and what it meant for Ventus to have been born in the factory, so Terra was kind of waiting for their big brains to put all that together, if they were going to get an answer on it at all. 

…but Ventus dreaming about Aaxqu?

Once he’d returned as a Chibi, Terra had looked a little different. Aqua’s full, true, explicit acceptance about what had happened, and Terra’s willingness to stop playing his part. He hadn’t wanted a full departure--he was still him, Terra Memories and all, and his children were used to him looking a certain way--but trading Terra’s more honey golden eyes for Aaxqu’s bright flashes, the ends of his hair waving instead of laying flat, his return to the water in form, if more sneaky this time…

People hadn’t really commented on it, and his kids wouldn’t think to. But Ventus did. 

“I do,” Terra said softly, fondly looking over the son who had grown up with a kind heart. “I’m sorry you lost your brother. I know we’re not a replacement for the family you have, or people who can soothe that loss. But I really love you, Ventus. I have for a long time.”

“Thanks,” Ventus said softly, “...I mean it.”

-

“This is a bad idea,” Even murmured, watching as the teens determinedly set up shop in Lauriam’s living room, “I should be the one to stay, and the children go home–”

“We’re not kids anymore, Even,” Kairi pouted as she and Sora worked out the logistics of creating tiny bedrooms from the couch cushions, “Well, maybe in Dicea we are, but we’re not actually. You can trust us to look after them.”

“If we put the sheets over them, you’d technically have your own room, Kairi,” Riku pointed out as Sora carefully stacked the cushions, “Not sure how to make a door though…”

“Lauriam! Do you have any extra cardboard!?” Sora called.

Lauriam pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath for five seconds. It wasn’t exactly that his siblings were wearing on him, like the day had. He genuinely appreciated that they wanted to help him out, and he liked spending time with them enough that comparing them to an obstacle course of healers’ visits in which he was locked in a giant whirring machine, told that his brain was all messed up, then given a host of medication that was supposed to help, but also might make him ten times worse was pretty brutal. 

They were trying to help. He needed to let people help. Even if it meant giving up his couch for a bit. 

“I have some of my furniture boxes, though I’m not thrilled about you guys sleeping on the floor,” he sighed, walking to his storage closet to get the broken down boxes, “Maybe I should invest in some nice sleeping bags, at least…”

“That’s still on the floor, La-La,” Marluxia helpfully pointed out. 

“We’ll be fine! We’re here for you!” Sora insisted, before looking sternly at Riku, “Go get the boxes! We can build around the cushions. We can fortify.”

“On it!” Riku said, hurrying off.

Even looked at Kairi, vaguely hoping to rely on her as the cooler head of the group… and twitched when he saw her apparently considering the logistics of moving a lantern into her small ‘room’ as well. This was a terrible idea. He should insist.

But Even sighed, looking to the garden duo, “Xaldin and Dilan are also spending the night, yes? That’s five people who can feasibly at least… run for help, if things get particularly bad…” Even frowned warily, “...it’s not too late to bring you back to the castle. Is avoiding the prince really that important to you?”

Lauriam rolled his eyes a little as Riku took the boxes out of his hands, giving his brother a flick on the ear before he was out of arm’s reach before he returned to his living room. And…it wasn’t like he didn’t see the reason in Even’s proposal. Just like he’d seen it the first time he’d brought it up. 

“Even, I am one bout of consideration away from going through with a restraining order,” Lauriam grumbled, “I get it. There’s more space, better sleeping arrangements, everyone’s over there…” The shadows under Lauriam’s eyes deepened. “But I am not dealing with that guy today. I don’t care if it’s unlikely, or you guys try to intercept him, somehow it’ll still happen. My therapist wasn’t even surprised to hear he’d gotten my address.”

“...and I’ll be fine,” Lauriam said, scratching his cheek lightly as he looked away, knowing exactly what the healers had said about it likely being fine, but needing to ensure he’d be okay if it wasn’t, “It’s not like any of this stuff is experimental.”

Truly, a terrible idea. The medicine might not have been experimental, but neither was Even’s experiences with Lauriam. He was under a considerable amount of stress, something was going to happen. And among all the people Even was leaving behind to deal with that, the only one he really trusted was Xaldin. Maybe. 

Still… “...oh, fuck me,” Even muttered, “I think I just talked myself into spending the night on your terrible couch.”

“What! But the couch is going to be the walls!” Sora insisted.

“No, it’s now going to be an unworthy bed for my aging back.” Even sighed, “Put it back together. And fine, yes, we can get sleeping bags. Sora, Riku, you both go run to the market. Kairi and I shall cook something.”

“But I’m the cook.” Riku pouted.

“You’re also our fastest runner, and I expect you both to be quick about it. Besides, Kairi needs to learn to cook something, I watched her plate all the individual ingredients of a sandwich the other day and just eat them one by one.”

“It tastes the same!” Kairi insisted.

“Because you don’t know how to cook. Come along.” Even said, heading to the kitchen.

Lauriam gave Even a truly tired look at his mutter. 

You love your family, Lauriam. They care about you and want you to be alright, Lauriam. 

“It’s not like we moved into our own place for space or anything,” Marluxia grumbled, but, well, didn’t actually throw a fuss. 

And with Even in the picture for the night? Uncle Leader did as he did, and took charge. 

Lauriam looked towards his brothers with a frown--he was good for it, even with furnishing his apartment, he could pay for the sleeping bags--before giving Even and Kairi a bewildered look. “Uh, it’s my house, I can cook.”

“You should take your medicine and go to bed. It’s been a long day already, some rest, food and then rest again will help.” Even said, looking around the kitchen with a frown, before opening up a random cupboard, “...well, not where I would have put the glassware…”

Lauriam clenched his jaw, anger starting to rise up…

Marluxia scoffed. “Right, because we’re invalids suddenly.” Rolling his eyes with annoyance, Marluxia pushed into the kitchen, giving Even a disdainful glare. “What stuff do you need for cooking, La-La can save you going full detective in here. And if we come back to any of our drawers or cabinets rearranged, pause your fucking observation diary, what’ll happen next won’t be a side effect.”

Even did indeed give them a variety of items he needed, and it was soon revealed he was making a simple form of pasta, Kairi attentively but clearly boredly following Even’s instructions as they cut up various meats and vegetables to put into it. 

Sora and Riku were soon back with the sleeping bags, and after a certain point in the evening Sora was watching Lauriam sort through his medications, “So… explain what they are again?”

It really hadn’t seemed that difficult to take three pills a day from three bottles--only one needed to be taken with food, so Lauriam figured he’d just take them all with food--but he had been recommended to use a ‘pill minder’, one which he’d been given for free at the pharmacy he’d picked his medication up at, so he was filling them up when Sora asked his question. 

Sighing softly, Lauriam shook one bottle. “So, apparently seizure chance is like gambling. There are things that can lower or raise the threshold of stuff potentially triggering one, so these are supposed to raise that, and also lower chances in general.” The second bottle. “Antidepressants, these ones are called SSRIs or something, and apparently they’re also anti-anxiety medication too? But they’re like…I dunno, fixing chemical levels in my head to help.”

He frowned a little, shaking the third bottle. “These are ‘mood stabilizers’, and that’s a descriptive enough name. Apparently I have injuries in the place, and enough history to assume, that makes emotional regulation harder, and there’s not really…fixing that.” Lauriam’s frown tightened. “But there is managing it, and this is focused on that, along with what I’m doing in therapy.”

Tiredly, Lauriam looked up and forced himself to give Sora a small smile. “Any questions for the new pro-pharmacist?”

“...are you okay?” Sora asked, tucking his chin into his arms as he gave Lauriam a worried look, “I mean, besides the stuff the medication is trying to help. I know you’re not okay, but… I’m worried about you. I know it’s not really their fault or anything, but it feels like we came to Dicea and suddenly there’s just a bunch of stuff wrong with you. It’s like they’re making it happen.”

The softening of his smile was more sincere, and Lauriam reached over to tousle Sora’s hair a bit. “It does feel like that, huh. But it’s sorta felt like that since I woke up.” He sighed, the smile dropping. “And then for stretches every few years since…forever. All this is just people pointing at the problems and making suggestions to do something about it, rather than accepting it as just who I am.”

“It’s more frustrating than doing it that way…but not really if I think about it long term,” Lauriam grimaced, “It’s not like just ignoring everything has really helped. Not every time I’ve freaked out on you guys, or have felt bad on my own. It sucks, and it’s hard, actually confronting the problems I have, but when I do, the people here actually have suggestions to deal with it more than saying, ‘that’s the way it has to be’.”

Sighing softly, Lauriam nudged Sora’s shoulder. “I’m still undecided if I actually like that. But I think I like having hope that doesn’t feel like blind faith, that I can be better to you guys in the future.”

Marluxia stuck his tongue out. “Putting a name to something makes it feel like it suddenly exists, but Sky-High, apparently we’ve been giant-machine-identifiably fucked up for the past 15 years.”

“Do you know how it happened?” Sora asked, pointing to his own skull with a frown, “Is it the seizures?”

“They certainly didn’t help, but…” Lauriam hesitated, glancing over at Sora. “You, uh… Mom mentioned that I fought the supervisors when they tried to bring me in, right?”

It was the kind of story he could absolutely see Aqua bringing up, some prideful example of Lauriam’s battling spirit, or a use-case for self-defense, but he wasn’t sure how detailed that story was. Or if anyone else had told the teens about it.

“Mhm,” Sora nodded, before grinning, “You gave Seifer a black eye. Or, was it Hayner? I can’t remember who it was, but mom said she knew she was going to have a handful with you, because you had already managed to hit someone black and blue by the time you got there.”

A small laugh escaped Lauriam, both from just any concept of the supervisors being messed up, and Sora’s obvious joy at it too. He really didn’t know, since from his perspective Terra had just started looking after him out of nowhere, but Lauriam wondered if all that had been an indication immediately that Terra and Aqua should be the ones to parent him. He supposed he could ask. 

Nodding, Lauriam hummed, “I think it was Hayner, but yeah. It was a pretty big fight.” Another small, hesitant look. “...but you know what Mom and Dad have always said. No matter how good you are, a fight is going to hurt everyone involved. I got my head knocked around a bit during it; Uncle Even was actually the one to confirm that I had a concussion, once things had calmed down from me being brought in.”

Marluxia scoffed. “The little brat dorks made all sorts of ‘observational’ comments about if someone with a concussion would be able to make a world or connect to the island in the first place. They were not happy about suddenly not being the only rugrats anymore.”

“Who, Ienzo?” Sora guessed, never quite able to imagine Ienzo or Zexion as ‘little’, “Maybe they were genuinely worried? I’m sure no one wanted you to spend all your time in the room. The room was…” Sora’s smiled thinned sadly, looking tired, “...not fun.”

“.....” Sora sighed, looking a little older–or maybe a little closer to his actual age–as he gave Lauriam a worried look, “What are some of the side effects we’re looking out for again? I don’t want to miss it. I know Even is here, but he gets… you know he gets,” Sora wilted a bit, “He might help, but he might make it worse. And Riku and Kairi… I love them, but… they’re both kinda useless in an emergency. Riku will do a lot of things without actually getting anything done, and Kairi’s going to freeze. She always freezes.” Sora frowned tiredly, “So, if something goes wrong… what should I do? Because it’s going to be me.”

“Not like that stopped him,” Marluxia scoffed, before Lauriam rolled his eyes a little. 

“They probably were worried on some level, but especially back then, though they still do it now, Ienzo tends to filter a lot of his emotions through academic lenses. And not just performatively, he probably was genuinely interested to see that outcome,” Lauriam theorized, voice growing mumblier as he went. 

Though, he paused, listening to Sora…before digging his knuckles into his head in a noogie. “Hey, it’s fine to know everyone’s weaknesses, but don’t count them out to the point you’re taking every responsibility on yourself,” Lauriam said sternly. “If I have to get driven home to rely on other people, I’ll be insufferable insisting it to you guys too.”

That said, it was a good question. 

“Most urgently, like the stuff they wanted me to have someone nearby the first night,” Lauriam gestured out to their current situation, “Is making sure I don’t have an allergic reaction that comes out of nowhere, or that this combination of things doesn’t give me a seizure. Basically, if it looks like I’m having a medical emergency, then I’m having one.”

“More generally?” he sighed, glancing at the bottles, reading over some of the side effects that he’d also been told earlier. “If I start having numbness, nosebleeds, stomach pain, lowered body temperature, if I start sounding like I’m really confused or disoriented, chest pain, or trouble sleeping. Some of that is just stuff I have to pay attention to over time, but if you guys note it when I don’t, that’s important to know.”

“It’s a little ridiculous,” he huffed, “Some of the side effects are literally what the medicine is supposed to help with.”

“Oooow, hey!” Sora pouted, swiping at Lauriam’s hand and instinctively trying to fix his hair. Though, his eyes widened and lips thinned when he heard all the potential things that could go wrong… before letting out a steadying breath, “Okay. That’s not too bad, we can handle it.”

Sora didn’t really think the others could help much. Mostly because usually they couldn’t. He loved his family, but the ones prone to action weren’t prone to thinking things through, and the ones prone to thinking things through weren’t prone to action, and often that just left, well… Sora. Scrambling to try to do the things the family actually needed. If he was lucky, the others could help. But more often, they just sort of got in the way.

Not that he’d tell any of them that. Riku and Kairi would be hurt to hear Sora didn’t really trust them to help with things, and Uncle Even would be offended. At least it’d be nice to spend the night with everyone. But for an emergency? Sora planned to be the one that actually did things. Like a good Head of the family did.

“If we end up needing a healer, would you rather we go grab someone, or take you somewhere?” Sora asked.

“And it’s pretty unlikely anything actually being an emergency would happen,” Lauriam added, trying to reassure them both. Even if preparing for an emergency that wouldn’t happen was still important. There were actually some side effects that sounded a bit scarier to him than the ones he listed out, but, well, they fit firmly under his ‘if it looks like an emergency, it is’ warning. Lauriam would just put his full belief into not suddenly having his skin peeling off. 

Considering Sora’s next question, Lauriam took a small breath. “If it seems like I can move on my own, or it’s a super emergency, take me to the hospital. It’s actually not that far from here, so it’s not like you’d need to find a cart or carriage or something quickly. If it seems dangerous to move me, though, bring someone here. Like, uh…” Lauriam rubbed the back of his neck, trying to recall their family’s attempts at first aid lessons over the years, “If I faint and don’t get up, it’s dangerous to move someone’s neck around in that situation, so it’d be better to bring a healer here, or contact emergency services. Flagging down a guard, or going to one of those buildings with the bright orange crosses, right?”

It was kind of a bizarre system, when Prince Kokichi had told them about how to utilize emergency services, but the more he thought about it, Lauriam had come around to it. It was probably a lot more efficient for people to know exactly where to go to alert guards or firefighters or EMTs rather than relying on noise and luck to come across a guard on patrol, or to hoof it to the castle or something. 

“Oooooh, is that what those places are?” Sora ‘ood’, nodding, “I know where one is around here. I did a delivery to one the other day. Mostly just to get to know the town better, I’m not doing deliveries full time anymore, but it’s nice to have a little extra spending money, and it’s a good way to get to know the town more. City. Keep having to remind myself this place is a city. Feels like a town sometimes, doesn’t it?” Sora chuckled, before looking determined, “Okay, I can do all of that. You’re not dying tonight, Lauriam! I’ve got this, Marluxia!”

“My hero~” Marluxia drawled, snickering a little, before he gave Sora a lidded look. “Just who’s giving you deliveries around here, might I ask? I thought you needed to go through, like, hiring processes or have a license or something.”

Marluxia’s gaze grew more intense. “Sky-High, you’re not muling, are you?”

Sora nodded grimly, “I’ve resorted to a life of crime. It’s all this free time I have. Idle hands and all of that… bleh.” Sora stuck his tongue out at them, before grinning, “You know the guy that got first player kill last night? Josie listened to me whine about being bored when I was at the arcade, set me up with a job with his mom. He said she works him so hard that the government gave her special permission to be a slave driver. Then I think he remembered where we came from and felt bad about making the joke, which was funnier then the joke itself had been. First time I ever saw him look uncomfortable.”

“So, yeah, I run some errands for them every now and again. Though, admittedly, I never think to ask what I’m delivering. Maybe it is drugs.” Sora shrugged, “I wouldn’t know.”

Marluxia huffed an amused sound. “La-La was telling me about that--people here are weirdly touchy about the program. Pretty hilarious to be talking and then see them all of a sudden look like they’d just said the worst swear of their life.”

Neither he nor Lauriam knew much about Josie. He’d gotten the first player kill, he seemed a sort of affable personality within the crowd of players, Marluxia thought Dimitri was friends with him, so he supposed he was in high school. But setting Sora up for a job, and hopefully a safer one, did raise him in their estimations. 

But it kind of hinged on that qualifier. 

“Okay, but,” Lauriam asked with mild wariness, “What kind of business is it? Like, you’re not just picking up unmarked packages from doorsteps or something, right?”

“I dunno,” Sora yawned a bit, shrugging, “It’s a convenient store? I think I’m probably delivering just random stuff people buy from that store. Or drugs. Again, I don’t look, but it’s probably things like snacks or, like, nails. Convenient stuff.”

Sora smiled lightly, “You don’t have to worry about me. There’s no reason to put myself into danger, so I’m not going to. I just can’t help myself, wanting to be… it’s not even ‘busy’, or ‘useful’. I just need to do things. I can’t… live my life the way Kairi does,” Sora said softly, glancing slightly at the door, the others chatting in the living room, “She gets so complacent, sometimes. I worry about her. I ask her about what she wants to do now that we’re in Dicea, and she never has an answer. She was the same way when we left the factory, but I thought that was just because things were so hectic back then. But now we’re settled and she still doesn’t want anything. I just can’t understand it…”

Lauriam relaxed a little. Ah, okay. That didn’t totally exclude the possibility of danger, but working deliveries for a convenience store was the type of mundane that Lauriam could relegate worries into the ‘paranoia’ box. Though, for Sora’s sake, Lauriam chuffed and rolled his eyes. “Sorry, no can do. As your brother it’s my job to worry about you, even when things are fine, so wanting to know more about your job, and if it’s treating you well is all my business. Just like you wanting to know the side effects of my pills is yours.”

…and just like worrying about the happiness of their siblings was both of theirs.

Following Sora’s glance, Lauriam sighed softly. “...well, you guys aren’t fully settled. Even and Aeleus are still closing on that house, right? So you guys are going to be moving and then settling someplace new, and even then we’re still adjusting to a new country, and even just to being free. Everyone has their own pace for that.”

Lauriam frowned lightly at the door. “Kairi woke up to us on the move, already in the middle of a bunch of plans. She didn’t have time to wonder about what freedom meant to her, and what she wanted to do with it, Mr. Had Weeks to Start Working Enough to Get a Reputation. And before that, Namine was constantly making decisions about what to do to keep us all alive. They’re their own people, but emotions have bleedover, and maybe Kairi feels burnt out from that.”

“I don’t know for sure, I’d have to ask her,” Lauriam shrugged, giving Sora a little knowing smile--if he wanted to know how Kairi felt, he’d have to ask--, “But I think it’s alright to feel kind of lost for now? We’re still adjusting to a lot, you guys are only 16 and no 16-year-old has things figured out, and when we figure out what school will look like for you guys, that’ll probably take up a lot of your life. Some people just move slower than the busiest bee I’ve ever met.” Lauriam roughly nudged Sora’s shoulder with a smirk. “You don’t have to understand, but just try to believe her answers when you ask how she’s doing. She can live a life that looks different than yours, and that’s okay.”

Sora hummed as Lauriam jostled him, nodding, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. School huh… I’m not looking forward to that,” Sora admitted, face scrunching a bit, “I know you guys all worked hard to make sure we knows our letters and maths and stuff, but I’m worried it’s going to be really obvious once I start going to class that I’ve never been before… but you’re planning to go to classes too, right?” Sora asked, giving Lauriam a curious look, “You’ve been looking into the college?”

Lauriam let out a deep sigh, flopping back on his bed with a small bounce. “Yeah,” he groaned, “It’s kind of like special tutoring through the college to get us up to speed. Like you said, everyone made sure we’re literate and not idiots wondering, like…I dunno, why seasons happen or what energy is, but it’s not school.”

With a more thoughtful look, Marluxia tucked one of his hands under his head. “One of the guys in my game group, Dimitri, right? Riku’s prolly told you shit. But apparently he’s finishing high school this year and was all up in his own shit, and according to him, school feels pretty loose here. Like having time to look into stuff you’re actually interested in, with it still being in school. And from the catalog, it looks like there’s college classes in just about everything. The catch-up will be annoying, sure, sure…”

Marluxia widened his eyes slightly, looking at his ceiling. “But isn’t that cool? Anything you wanna do or know about, they’ll shove resources at you instead of you having to figure it out from scratch, or hoping there’s a book somewhere with the right information. And you’ll get to try it out practically, rather than just theory. Like, taking a sculpting class would leave you with a bunch of pieces at the end of the class, rather than just looking at work already out there or taking notes about how to do shit. And that’s with everything.”

Pausing, Lauriam smiled fondly at Marluxia’s rush of wonder and excitement going through them, before he gave Sora a more sheepish look. “...it’s still daunting going somewhere and looking dumb. But our parents used to have me take tests next to Ienzo, so it’s not like that’s a new feeling. And we won’t be alone in it.”

Sora’s eyes widened with wonder. Really? Anything? Man, what would Sora learn if he was really allowed to learn anything…?

Something to think about, for sure. 

But he snorted at that last bit, smirking at Lauriam, “You must have hated that. I think I’d have hated that too.”

Lauriam echoed Sora’s snort. “It was the worst, especially when we were younger and Ienzo actually answered the test questions. Imagine Uncle Even going through answers and explaining to you everything you got wrong, while in every other breath congratulating Ienzo for getting it right. It was even worse the times Mom would contest something and then find out that she had it wrong.”

“Oh noooooo,” Sora groaned, burying his face into his arms. 

“You make me sound like some wicked headmaster, snapping rulers against wrists and putting dunce hats on low performers.” Even scoffed, walking into the room that Sora and Lauriam had been looking over the medication with, “And as you said, that was back when Ienzo was willing to actually indulge my assessment of his studying. I had to give up on the practice when I realized neither of you were taking it seriously. I know everyone else was secretly relieved, but I still believe I could have helped you all more if I had known precisely where you were struggling.”

“You’re crocheting, Uncle Even.” Sora warned him.

“I’m old and decrepit, as you all were determined to make me. I’m allowed to be crotchety,” Even said, looking over the medicine, “Have you actually taken everything you need yet?”

Sitting up, Lauriam gave Even a dry look. “You’ve literally done that with Demyx. I remember him distinctly coming by to whine to me about you being a cruel and unusual teacher.”

…and Lauriam had taken it seriously. He wasn’t always the best student, he could admit, but knowing at the time he’d never get any official form of learning, he really had tried his best with the little lessons and ‘school time’ sessions the adults had tried to set up. 

His best just wasn’t very good, academically. And the area he was struggling often seemed to be ‘all of it’. 

Rolling his eyes a little at Even’s grouching, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, the pharmacist said I should take the mood stabilizer with food, so I took them right after we finished eating. Got ‘em all,” Lauriam held up his now filled pill minder with a little shake, the week’s worth of pills jiggling, “sorted out now.”

“Hmmm,” Even hummed, reaching over to put his palm against Lauriam’s forehead, then placing the back of his hand against the side of Marluxia’s neck, “How do you feel? Burpy? Do you feel any signs of upcoming diarrhea? What does the air taste like?”

“What?” Sora asked, brow pinching together, “What?”

“What we can ‘smell’ coming from inside of us tends to be a good warning indicator for illness.” Even said, before clicking his tongue exaggeratedly, “Clck-clck. Do that. What do you taste? Clck.”

Marluxia rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

Lauriam sighed and made the clicking noises. “...I don’t know, it just tastes like air. What it’s like when there’s no particular smell, I guess. And my stomach’s normal too, I’m not feeling dizzy or out of sorts or tense or…whatever.” Head slightly tilted to accommodate Even’s--ever chilly--hands, Lauriam raised his eyebrows slightly. “You think this stuff could kick in this early?”

“Not necessarily, but it’s good to know what your baseline is now so we can adjust if anything changes,” Even said, moving his hand to a different spot on Marluxia’s neck before seemingly satisfied with whatever he found, stepping back, “I don’t have much personal experience with testing medicines, but keeping track of how a body was doing from before surgery started to after it was finished was key to ensuring the subject survived.”

“I thought you only worked with corpses.” Sora frowned.

“I lived a long and varied life before you all aged me.” Even said simply, turning to leave the bedroom, “Sora, don’t keep them up too late. Rest will help any initial discomfort.”

“I thought you got caught doing student research,” Lauriam grumbled, but, well. Even if it was a facsimile of it, the fact that Vexen could act out surgery enough for it to be an effective scare tactic did point to practical knowledge. And there was plenty Even could’ve done in his free time, the weirdo. 

Sighing with a small stretch of his shoulders, Lauriam gave Sora a small smile. “I probably should check in with Xaldin and Dilan before we actually go to sleep. They’d get all bummed being around to keep an eye on us without actually getting to spend any time together. You guys know where my cards are, the first aid kit? Try not to clear out my whole pantry, but feel free to get snacks and stuff if you’re hungry.”

“I saw Riku fishing them out,” Sora nodded, before grinning, “Don’t worry, if we eat too much I’ll do a grocery run for you. But I diiiiid see some nuts that I wanted to dive into. Those might be gone in the morning. I’ll get you more!” Sora promised, giving Lauriam a respectful nodding bow before hurrying off before anyone could tell him ‘no’ on the nut situation. 

Lauriam bemusedly watched him scamper off before letting out a fond huff. 

“You ever think we’re spoiling them?” Marluxia snickered.

“If we are, they deserve to be spoiled,” Lauriam dramatically sniffed a proclamation, before joining Marluxia’s laughs in their head and getting ready for bed. 

-

Okay, so far? No changes to their world, so that was a good sign. 

Overalls traded out for loose pajama bottoms and his hair gathered in a braid to the side, just for the pure ‘sleepover’ aesthetics, Marluxia peered over their guardian dragon with an appraising eye, making sure nothing funky was going on. 

“You’re looking at that thing like it's about to start roaring, flower,” Xaldin said, wrapping his arms around Marluxia’s stomach as he rested his chest against his back, “Is it? Kind of badass if it did, actually.”

Marluxia smiled lightly as he leaned back against Xaldin, putting one hand over his boyfriend’s. “I think there’s a definite possibility it can. I’m pretty solid on the idea this thing has been soaking up energy, but I have no idea what it’ll do with it, other than occasionally change positions when one of us is freaking out or something.”

Tipping his head back to get a glimpse of Xaldin’s face, Marluxia grinned. “It’d be cool to ride a badass dragon through the sky, don’t you think?” The grin grew sharper. “Though I can think of a few things I’d rather ride.”

“Pff. Pervert,” Xaldin chastised, giving Marluxia a kiss against his temple, before taking his hand and gently spinning him around, putting his arm around his waist and holding his hand as he lightly swayed in a mock two-step, “How’d it go today? With Doctor Headcase?”

Marluxia chuffed out a laugh, completely nullifying the gentle moves Xaldin was guiding him with to overdramatically put his all into them. Whirling around in the spin before almost roughly chest-bumping Xaldin with a grin, though he relented to the more sedate pace of the swaying. 

“Ugh, talk about a pain,” he huffed, rolling his eyes, though the fun of being with Xaldin took a lot of the bite out of Marluxia’s annoyance. “That MRI thing that we had a referral for ages ago? It’s like one of your coffin or squish traps if you went full sci-fi instead of ancient ruin, and it’s loud. Like, to the point I’m not sure we got ripped off not being told to wear ear protection.”

Another huff, as Marluxia pivoted on his heel to turn their sway slightly. “Thankfully for La-La not having a fit, though, it doesn’t seem like that thing picks up on psychic nonsense. Or if it does, no one reads it like that. Instead, we just got to be told all the ways our brain got irreparably fucked up.” Marluxia bonked his head against Xaldin’s shoulder. “They were pretty worried hearing we’d been recently suffocated. Apparently losing air to your head can make all that stuff worse.”

He glowered, looking at Xaldin’s neck. “Along with booze.”

“Tsk. Well, not like we didn’t know it’s not good for you to be literally knocked unconscious, but not great to hear it made shit harder than it already was,” Xaldin huffed, before raising an eyebrow, “I know there’s no real way for you to ask, so you probably don’t know, but like… just real booze? Or the layover effect Luis gives us sometimes also messing with it?”

Marluxia shrugged, pouting a bit. He liked drinking, damnit!! Not…really to get drunk, though he had a few times, but it was fun to be social over a few drinks. Kind of a buzzkill to know in no uncertain terms it could kill him by triggering a seizure.

“No idea. Like, because you can be instantly sober the second you leave his world, it makes sense that it wouldn’t be the same thing, right?” Marluxia theorized, before grimacing, “But we know how convincing it feels, and that shit is messing with our heads, so it might just provoke the same stresses.”

“Though,” he sighed, looking faintly more amused, “You know what they told us can lower the chances of having a seizure?”

“Hmm? What?” Xaldin asked, idly wondering if Luis had some way of specifically blocking at least Lauriam and Marluxia when he got all radioactive. Probably not, the guy would have done it by now, but Xaldin could still ask.

“‘Enzy’s new favorite rebel pastime,” Marluxia snickered. “Solves more than just conditioning, it seems~”

“Smoking? Well, guess it doesn’t have to be smoked. Heh, well, shit, you’re gonna be high these days?” Xaldin snickered, “If it helps, I’m sure not against it… ngh, not sure how I feel about Dilan though.”

“What about me?” Dilan asked, wandering over from the other side of the field, holding Lauriam’s hand.

“Flower here was telling me he and Dandelion are about to get high more often because it eases seizures,” Xaldin explained.

“So? What, did you think I’d be against that? I’m religious, not a prude… okay, not the correct word, what word am I looking for? Someone who’s against anything fun for its own sake… it feels like there should be a word for that, but nothing comes to mind.”

“I’m not worried about you being a square–”

“That’s not a phrase,” Dilan said dryly.

“--I’m worried about you getting really into getting high with our guys here. I don’t need you slowing us down, you get too into your ‘sins’. The more it pisses me off, the more you’re going to want to do it.”

“That’s not how I make choices,” Dilan said dismissively.

“Straight-edge!” Marluxia called.

“No Fun Patrol,” Lauriam supplied with a nod, giving Dilan’s hand a squeeze. Like Marluxia he had decided to change things up into a sleepover aesthetic, though unlike his other half, Lauriam was actually wearing a shirt…as thin as the material was. “Though, we wouldn’t ask you guys to get high with us. Honestly I’m not even sure how often I’d want to do it; the healers phrased it more like a recreational drug that would be alright for us since most others would put too much stress on our brain, or interfere with our medication. Though apparently weed is used medicinally for a lot of things here.”

“Pff, speak for yourself,” Marluxia scoffed. “If we’re hanging out and getting high, I’m definitely putting on peer pressure. And, like… It’s super illegal in Luminary, that’s not something you guys would consider for ages.” There was a beat before Marluxia cocked his head slightly, giving Dilan a curious look. Because for how illegal it was, it wasn’t like he didn’t know Ienzo had found ways to get high. “...right?”

“It’d certainly be more difficult to get our hands on,” Dilan mused thoughtfully.

“We’re not fucking getting high at the god damn royal castle at the heart of NGP,” Xaldin said with a little growl in his throat… before smirking at Lauriam, “Dandelion, come over here~ I want the whole bouquet~” 

“There are more than enough double-standards for Ienzo to be safe trying hookah with two of the most politically immune people on the planet right now, and you to get royally screwed over looking like you’re thinking about it too hard,” Lauriam cautioned with a disgruntled grimace, pressing against Dilan’s arm. 

Though, as Xaldin beckoned him, his expression eased and, while still tugging Dilan closer, he acquiesced. “Hey,” he greeted, bumping Xaldin’s shoulder now, “I was telling Dilan before, but thanks for staying over tonight.”

“Like I don’t just need an excuse,” Xaldin smiled, wrapping his other arm around Lauriam’s waist and leaning in to give him a slight kiss… before smirking over at Dilan, “What?”

“If you’re trying to make me jealous, you’re not succeeding,” Dilan said simply, placing a kiss against the back of Lauriam’s head, before walking around them and placing a quick kiss against Marluxia’s cheek, “Come on, let’s settle into the field. No need for all of us to be standing around, not when the grass is looking inviting.”

“Flower was telling me that you both were put into some loud-ass machine?” Xaldin prompted as he untangled himself from the two, fine with sitting down, “And that you officially can’t drink.”

Closing his eyes, Lauriam smiled into the kiss, basking in the affection for a moment…and giving Marluxia an entirely unapologetic look in exchange for the highly amused one he was getting. As the four of them settled on the grass, though, Lauriam sighed. “Yeah, the MRI machine is like a really freaky sci-fi robot thing, not exactly something I’d recommend. And…” Lauriam scratched his cheek lightly. “I mean, it’s not like we drink much anyway, and it’s not something I wanted to do that often. Might be kind of awkward if we go to a bar with someone, but it’s not like they don’t always have non-alcoholic drinks on hand.”

“It suuuuuucks,” Marluxia groaned, splaying himself out on the grass, “Sure, sure, Coin Flip’s menu tasted as interesting as I would guess for the real stuff, but basically as soon as we have the opportunity to drink for real? Sorry, you might die if you get drunk, have fun being sober for the rest of your life.”

“Eh, it’s overrated. I think watching Luis get sad and weepy over colorful, fruity drinks kinda killed any mystique it might have had for me,” Xaldin admitted, laying down onto his stomach, crossing his ankles over each other as he looked fondly at Marluxia, “You and I can be the two ‘straight-edges’ of the bars together. I’ll be sober with ya.”

“I’m a little disappointed to hear it,” Dilan admitted, sitting down cross-legged, “Not that it’s a big deal, of course, but it can be fun to sort of forcefully make yourself a bit dim. It’s nice acting a bit of an idiot.”

“Again, pass. I like having control of myself.” Xaldin said, looking to Lauriam, “Any verdicts from your end, Lauriam? Is not drinking a ‘good riddance’ thing, or are we devastated?”

Marluxia gave Xaldin a soft, grateful look. He was absolutely fine forging his own path if he was invited out to a bar…but it was sweet, having his boyfriend declare that he’d stand right beside him in it. 

But it was true; even if they hadn’t had their own close call with it, watching Luis obliterated so often over the years kind of killed any desire to go full in until blackout. There wasn’t any curiosity, they saw exactly how it affected Luis, and, with full acknowledgement for the ways Luis was cool, he definitely didn’t make drinking look cool. 

Smiling warily, Lauriam shrugged shallowly. “I already don’t like being drunk. I don’t really feel like an idiot in the nice way, I just feel sad and horrible. I don’t think I’ll really miss having the option, even if I didn’t really need another excuse to turn a drink down. Ienzo talks about having a good time being high, and he gets super affectionate with Demyx all the times I’ve seen it, but I’m still not sure about weed either, if I’m honest.”

Marluxia tipped his head the other way. “He said it makes him feel less anxious.”

“We are taking anti-anxiety stuff now,” Lauriam traded back.

“Yeah? How’s that going?” Xaldin asked, “Chilled out yet?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Dilan frowned… before shifting uncomfortably, “Though in truth I have no idea how that might work. Is that medication meant to actively calm you? Or is it meant to… I’m not sure how to phrase it? I suppose make your anxiety less overwhelming? I can’t imagine what that would mean in practice though. Surely it doesn’t make bad things just feel ‘not bad’. Not sure that’s a wise thing to want, if it does, we don’t want to pacify you.”

“We’re ultimately just trying to avoid needing to knock you out anymore, right?” Xaldin asked, “Will it help with that?”

“Stiiiiiiill normal,” Marluxia sighed. 

Though Lauriam frowned a little, idly brushing his fingers back and forth through the grass. “That and the mood stabilizer, it’s… It’s supposed to be like, helping a bad thing feel bad, and not catastrophic. That when I’m having a bad day, I feel kind of down, and not ‘literally unable to get out of bed’. Things to help me feel more like my emotions are things I can acknowledge and decide what to do with, rather than everything spiralling wildly out of control, with me just along for the ride.”

“And if they can do that, then hopefully that means I won’t get to a state where it’s safer for me to be unconscious,” he said, nodding a little before giving Xaldin and Dilan a shy look. “It’s not just the medicine. Therapy and actively trying to manage myself differently are big parts, and medicine is just supposed to help. So whatever big changes you guys might be looking out for, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Not sure what I’m expecting, if anything,” Xaldin admitted with a small shrug, “Honestly, it’s hard to imagine who you’d be without that big, explosive anger in you. I know it’s dangerous and I should be discouraging it, but I sure don’t want to trade that for some smiling, numbed up zombie boyfriend either. Mostly I’m just hoping part of our relationship stops being me needing to beat you every time I think we’re in danger. I don’t exactly love feeling like some abuser in your life.”

“Xaldin,” Dilan frowned, “That’s not… that’s not a fair thing to say.”

“What?” Xaldin asked, looking genuinely confused, “That I don’t want to beat our boyfriends? I genuinely can’t think of something more ‘fair’ to say.”

“They can’t help it. None of us can help it–”

“I’m not accusing anyone of anything? I’m not saying ‘you two better stop making me hit you or I’m gonna hit you even harder’,” Xaldin said dryly, “I’m saying I wish I didn’t have to, and if I’m hoping for anything, it’s that. It’s not really in any of our hands if that's how it goes or not. I’m just… wishing.”

“There’s a lot more to both of us than grand displays of anger,” Marluxia said a tad dryly, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t hearing Xaldin. Even if it’d make them safer to be around? Marluxia didn’t want to go through life in an unfeeling haze. They had been assured that the medicines they’d been prescribed were distinctly not sedatives, and in fact if they did start feeling like they didn’t have emotions, that was a warning sign to see a healer about, but…still. It was hard to know what not being explosive would feel like. 

“I wish it too,” Lauriam agreed softly, before giving Dilan a small shrug. “It’s not like I’m mad you guys have knocked me out or numbed me up before. Every time you did, it was important. I would’ve made things a lot worse. It’d just be nice if I wouldn’t make things worse, you know?”

“You don’t make things worse–”

“Dilan, will you let us wish fucking things were better for five fucking seconds without accusing us of undervaluing what we already have? God, fuck, shut the fuck up,” Xaldin scowled, rolling onto his back and glaring at the sky, “Lauriam knows he doesn’t actually ‘make things worse’. We’re talking about those moments where things are bad! Unique, singular, rare events! That we just wish weren’t so bad in the future!”

“I barely said anything,” Dilan frowned, a touch of concern in his voice, which was unusual for him, in regards to Xaldin, “What are you so upset about?”

“Nothing… dammit. Fuck, I don’t know.” Xaldin huffed, rubbing his hand over his face. “...sorry. I’m stressed out over this. It’s no one’s fucking fault I’m stressed out over it, before anyone starts throwing themselves on the damn sword about it. I’m just fucking stressed.”

Well, Lauriam distinctly thought that he made things worse a lot of the time, but that was something he was actively working on in therapy, and as Xaldin snapped at Dilan, the Garden Duo shared a look. 

And from that look, Lauriam held a hand up, the sky gently dimming to sunset, and then a calming starry night, while Marluxia put a hand on the ground, the grass growing thicker and more plush. More comfortable in general to lay on, sure, but also…(a little more back support). 

Scooting over, Lauriam laid on his side next to Xaldin, rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “It is kind of scary. A lot of new changes that we don’t know exactly how it’ll pan out. But…it’s stuff that might make those wishes come true. I’ll be alright, Xaldin. Being able to feel like my emotions aren’t totally out of my control isn’t going to change the whole of who I am, or who Marluxia is.”

“‘I don’t know’ isn’t a full answer,” Marluxia hummed with a gently taunting tone. “Talk to us. If you can’t figure it out in your own head, I’ll be able to pin it down with some clues. La-La and Di might even manage a good point or two.”

Xaldin sighed, giving Lauriam a soft look as he shifted his head, looking at the dandelion under the soft glowing moonlight… before he groaned, running his hand over his face again, “Shit, is it a mystery? Look, we’ve all always known there was something, I don’t know… You guys blow up about stuff sometimes. Figuratively, literally. People lose their tempers, that’s fine, it’s whatever.”

“I guess I just didn’t realize how many things were actually wrong until recently,” Xaldin admitted, letting his hand fall onto his chest and glaring at the starlit sky, “You’re suffering and there seems to be fuck-all we can actually do about it. The things that are supposed to help just sound like wish-fulfillment dressed up by lab coats, so it’s just… two people I care about a lot are suffering, and are going to suffer, and there’s nothing I can fucking do about it. And I’m just realizing how bad that actually is, and it’s stressful. It’s not anyone’s fucking fault it’s stressful, it just is.”

“...I think there are things that can be done,” Dilan said softly, “And it’s not like you to be so defeatist, Xaldin. You were the one just screaming that it’s ‘rare’ events. It’s not just endless suffering. I think you’re just feeling the weight of it today, is all. We all are. Hearing about the diagnoses... but that doesn’t mean Lauriam and Marluxia are just going to endlessly suffer and we can’t help them. You’ll drive yourself crazy, thinking like that.”

After a moment, Marluxia let out a huff and stole Xaldin’s hand off his chest, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “If that’s a familiar tune, then I can one-up it--just ‘cause things are shitty, that doesn’t mean there isn’t good stuff while it’s happening. Some of the brain damage is old as fuck, from before we even knew you, you know?”

When Marluxia didn’t elaborate on that, just giving Xaldin affection, Lauriam smiled softly. “...I think the point Marluxia’s making is while it has caused real problems for us, for the most part, day to day? Brain damage, having seizures--it doesn’t really mess with our lives much. This doesn’t feel like suffering, Xaldin. Today was stressful, and that sucks, but we’re getting to spend a nice evening with people we love, and that’s pretty lovely, I think.”

“If you wanna get really into those feelings, the dirt’s still pretty used to having living occupants,” Marluxia offered, giving Xaldin’s hand another kiss.

Xaldin couldn't help the small, breathy laugh at Marluxia’s point about good things happening during shitty times. It felt like the sort of thing he’d literally be trying to drill into Luis’ head during one of his depressing, self-loathing spirals. Ugh, the pessimism was spreading…

“...Flower, baby, did you just threaten to bury me alive?” Xaldin suddenly asked, giving Marluxia a bewildered look, though he certainly didn’t mind the hand kisses, “I’ll pass. I’ll mega pass. No.”

“...I remember having a similar conversation with Inzi, once,” Dilan said mildly, Xaldin wincing as he said it. “We were discussing the philosophical merits of murder-suiciding everyone.”

“.........what?!” Xaldin sputtered, giving Dilan a bug-eyed look, “What!?”

“Boooo, no fun. What, a guy doesn’t get to bury people alive anymore? Bullshit times we live in.” As Marluxia griped, he grinned against Xaldin’s skin, before abruptly giving a loud guffaw, eyes wide as he gave Dilan a enthusiastically bewildered look. “PFFF WHAT?! That’s so fucked up!!”

Though, Lauriam gave Dilan an uneasy smile. “Can’t suffer if you’re dead, right? Even if you obviously didn’t think it was enough of a good idea to go through with it, I’ll still do you a solid and make sure to never tell Zexion. He’d put you in the Torment Nexus forever.”

Marluxia, still reeling, suddenly huffed and took a suspicious look around. “If he somehow isn’t listening in now.”

Dilan smiled weakly back at Lauriam. “More or less. It was one of those conversations that was somewhat forbidden, back in the factory. I think if either of us had brought it up around the wrong person, Even would have… Even cares about all of us a lot. To the point where I don’t think he’d have allowed one of us to live, if he thought we were a real risk to the others. It was a genuinely dangerous conversation, Inzi and I were having.”

“But it wasn’t a serious one. Not truly,” Dilan admitted, “I knew it wasn’t serious, because what we were actually discussing at some length, was if it was truly ethical to allow the group to survive, to be used as weapons by our captors, when we could just… remove ourselves from the equations. Not allow ourselves to be their tools anymore, even if it required the sacrifice of ourselves and the people we loved. Could we really call ourselves victims, or ‘good’, if we weren’t even willing to consider it? We even discussed how we’d do it, if we had ever decided to follow through…”

“But I knew it wasn’t serious for her, any more than it had been for me, when she pointed out that among the many things she’d regret cutting short, was how happy Zinxi was to be with you, Xaldin,” Dilan said, looking away. Something pained and regretful in his expression as he confessed, “Yes, we were hurting and ruining lives by the mere act of existing by that point. Yes, there was so much suffering we ourselves were experiencing. We both believed in an afterlife, that the trials and paradise beyond it could offer sanctuary. We both knew ethically it was the only morally correct choice… but what about the strange little love story our Nobodies were making together? What about the children we were raising? What about the beautiful moments, rare and fleeting as they sometimes felt, where we were happy…”

“Wasn’t that worth it?” Dilan murmured, “Wasn’t that more than enough?”

“......” Xaldin swallowed, staring up at the sky… before he scoffed, “How in the hell did you think you were going to win a fight against literally all of us?”

“We’d have to take down Aeleus first,” Dilan said immediately, “And hope Aqua and Terra didn’t notice until it was too late.”

“Bastard.”

It wasn’t something Lauriam thought the group hadn’t considered at some point themselves, even if to immediately dismiss it. If the program relied on their abilities to function at all, wouldn’t it be better for the world to prevent themselves from being used? After days and days upon months upon years of suffering, wasn’t it enticing to escape it?

Some of them were more staunchly against it than others. Like Dilan said, Even valued the safety of the group over nearly everything, and there were few lengths he wouldn’t go to to ensure it. From that same sense of responsibility to the group, though now with new context Lauriam believed that some of it was a purely personal stance, Ienzo had always been the biggest advocate against suicide. Thinking back on it, Lauriam wasn’t sure if the Zexions hadn’t been trying to make things more pleasant in their worlds whenever they noticed someone struggling. 

As awful a discussion it was, it wasn’t exactly a shocking topic.

…Dilan admitting that a major opposition to it was Xaldin and Zinxi’s love, was.

Briefly, there was a small, proud smile on Marluxia’s face. He really had listened to him this time, huh. 

“Fraction of a fraction of a success case, then,” Lauriam hummed, giving Dilan a softer look for what he’d said. “If we’d had access to anything that could kill quickly and quietly, we would’ve used it on the supervisors.”

“Man, if only,” Marluxia wistfully sighed.

“Exactly. That’s why I say it was never a truly serious discussion. I think the only real way everyone could have died would be by agreeing to it, and even then, how we’d successfully pull it off was just… all of that is beside the point though,” Dilan frowned, “Anyway. I just find it surprising that you, Xaldin, of all people I know, feel that way now. You were one of the people that seemed almost effortlessly happy, in the factory, where things really were miserable. I never saw you stressed out and lashing out there.”

“You were not paying attention then. I lashed out at people all the time. Not just the Indentured either,” Xaldin frowned, “And ‘effortlessly’? I’d say that about Demyx or Terra, maybe, but that’s not giving them enough credit. It wasn’t effortless for any of us. We all had to find our own reasons to be happy… and I guess I don’t really feel like it’s endless suffering now either. Like you keep pointing out, it’s just right now it feels really bleak. And I’m feeling pissed off and angry about it. I mean, aren’t we all? I know you guys went into overdrive to make me feel better right now, but don’t tell me you haven’t been feeling it too.”

Marluxia looked off to the side for a moment. Not enough credit was probably right. He knew his dad put in a ton of effort to be a consistently…like, safe, upbeat, reliable person to come to. For the kids, sure, but for everyone, kinda. And Demyx had told Marluxia straight up that it wasn’t easy. 

Happiness had never been easy. But despair had been so unbelievably easy that for some of them, Dilan, it felt like some crazy fact of personality when they saw someone able to find happiness at all. Just discrediting the work it took, and condemning themselves further into unhappiness by convincing themselves that it was nature and not effort, and thus something they couldn’t achieve. 

Dilan had heard that spiel from him before, though. 

“Why do you think we didn’t put up a bigger fuss being babysat tonight?” Marluxia scoffed. “We live in a one bedroom apartment, and right now there’s three brats and a grouchy old fart sleeping over.”

Lauriam smiled softly and nodded tiredly. “It’s easier to not feel as scared and angry surrounded by people. Even if I’m sure we’ll be freaked out when someone comes to make sure we’re not dead in the middle of the night.”

“I wish Even would stop calling himself old, that man is only 7 years older than me. He is taking us down with him,” Xaldin muttered.

“...actually, in some senses, because I never shared my memories with you, you’re really only 20, Xaldin,” Dilan mused.

“.......... I don’t know what to do with that thought, moving on!” Xaldin said, looking over to Lauriam, “I know the folks over in Dicea are probably hovering in case you start vomiting blood or whatever idea they’ve got in their heads is, but I’m here mostly because I was worried you’d depress yourselves thinking about everything that’s happening. And then I depressed myself imagining it. I know we’re all talking about ‘it’s mostly good’ and ‘it’s not just suffering’ and all of that, but… you’ve been really unhappy for a long time, Lauriam. Since I’ve known you, I guess. You’ve always had a lot of really good reasons to be unhappy, and I’m just… I’m sorry that there’s nothing I can do about it. I thought it might get better as things get better? But I don’t think that’s the case anymore and I’m just… sorry.”

Marluxia snorted and gave Dilan an impish grin. In some senses, huh? Now just who was cradle-robbing who~?

But as much as levity could help, it could also just be a distraction from things that actually needed to be addressed. 

Lauriam’s gaze softened. So many words on his lips, before he visibly paused. Eyes darting down as he thought, before he scooted closer and put an arm over Xaldin in a hug. “...I am unhappy a lot. And I’m not sure that you or anyone else can do anything about it, to stop me being unhappy.”

“...but you’ve made me really happy a lot in my life, and I’m really grateful for that,” he murmured, nuzzling Xaldin a bit. “Happy and unhappy don’t cancel out each other, but I think there’s a lot of worth in having more happy moments, and I think that’s…amazing, that you can do that. Something more important by your presence in my life, than apologizing for something that shouldn’t be expected of you.”

“Look at that, growth,” Marluxia mused, scooting over himself to lean against Dilan’s arm. “Some things do get through your head.”

“Ah, fuck, back to comforting me… I’m doing a bad job at this ‘being here for you’ thing. If there’s ever a night for you to be bitching and moaning and me telling you we’re going to figure it out, it should have been tonight,” Xaldin sighed, resting his free hand on Lauriam’s arm, “Sorry, Dandelion… and thank you. It helps to hear that I’m making some things better. Just… really felt the pressure today, that there’s no real cure. I think a part of me really was hoping the docs over there in Dicea were going to figure it out and give you something and suddenly you were going to be okay, and it’s just never going to fucking happen like that and…” Xaldin closed his eyes wincing, “Guess that brief, false hope fucking got to me.”

“I still think you’re underestimating that it’s progress. Sure, no one’s promising us that the hallucinations are going to stop or the delusions or the depressive episodes, but those weren’t a daily thing anyway, and it does seem like little things that have troubled them day to day might ease a little if we’re diligent,” Dilan pointed out, “Anxiety levels aren’t ‘shambling zombie’ days or ‘exploding flower’ days, but they certainly suck. It’d be worth it to help even a little with that, I think.”

“Honestly, I think I’d be more scared if there was something a healer offered that would fix me right away,” Lauriam nervously laughed, rubbing his thumb against Xaldin’s side. “I’d get into my head about what ‘fix’ means, and what it’d do to me, and if it’d actually work without doing something horrible, and if I could feel myself all of a sudden being different, I’m not sure how much I’d like that.”

Closing his eyes, Marluxia squished his cheek into Dilan’s shoulder. “Doc Frills keeps correcting La-La when he says he’s broken, saying he isn’t. I guess the literal brain damage we have is an objective injury, but if something isn’t broken, then it doesn’t need to be fixed. I, for one, feel better about just making different choices than lopping off pieces of our brain in a lobotomy to fit some wack-ass definition of good.”

Lauriam smiled uneasily. “...I do want to change, to feel better, to be better to our family, to you…but not to the point I don’t feel like myself anymore.” He swallowed nervously. “...I was starting to feel like that when Marluxia was back in base essence, and it messed me up so badly that…well, you know.”

Marluxia opened his eyes and stared at Lauriam in muted surprise. That a reason for that whole mess he hadn’t heard before, even if he was literally Lauriam at the time.

“I don’t want you guys to be different either. Like I said, I don’t want to trade you both in for some smiling, numb zombie boyfriends,” Xaldin frowned, “Of all the things I’m wishing were different, you both losing your tempers on people isn’t the thing that bothers me. Fucking explode into fiery flowers every now and again, the rest of us can handle it. But whatever part of your brain that makes you so damn unhappy all the time? Not gonna lie, I’d be tempted to cut that piece out.”

“Mmmm, I don’t believe that,” Dilan admitted, “I think you’d be nervous at changing them too. Though, Lauriam, what do you mean you did start to feel like that, when Marluxia went back to base essence?” Dilan asked, refocusing on Lauriam, “You felt like you were changing?”

“Not…changing, so quite…” Lauriam said uncertainly, “But more having had changed. After I woke back up from the coma, when I was doing better, when we first got on the road… I just felt like I didn’t recognize myself. I’ve never exactly been some paragon of society, but it felt like I failed at everything I tried, and that how I was feeling about things felt foreign, and just…that I wouldn’t make it, living outside the factory. Everyone wasn’t doing amazingly, I guess, but it seemed like they were getting by, and I felt like I was going crazy for how overwhelmed and out of my depth it felt.”

His eyes lowered. “...and everyone was going, and it seemed like everyone was doing okay with their Nobodies back in base essence and I just…felt myself slipping. So I let Vexen know.”

“Ah, right…you trying to trade your life with Marluxia,” Dilan frowned.

“He was trying to kill himself,” Xaldin said more plainly, lightly squeezing Lauriam’s arm, “It got us our Flower back, but that sure as fuck hadn’t been the intention. That. That’s the piece of you I’d cut out if I could. Carve it out of your damn skull… but at the same time, I get it, y’know? Those days were hard. Our group was dropping like flies, and maybe some of the others were accepting it, but I know I was feeling worse the more Nobodies we lost. Watching that shit with Zexion and Ienzo, Vexen and Even, Terra and Aqua… god damn miserable. Not that surprising it all got to you, dandelion.” 

“Not trying, yet,” Marluxia said matter-of-fact, watching Lauriam. “That’s what you were trying to tell Vexen, who went off on his own ideas, as crazy and ultimately fine as they turned out. You weren’t looking for a solution or even comfort. You were asking him to stop you if you did try to kill yourself again.”

Lauriam winced lightly, before he nodded. His eyes squinting a bit as he murmured, “It felt like I’d gotten Dad killed again.”

Because Lauriam had been feeling bad pretty much since his meltdown with Xaldin. He’d been unsure of himself and finding all his efforts amounting to nothing, if not straight up trouble. But he hadn’t felt that utter pit of despair, and felt himself giving into it, until he’d frozen at Sora charging at him, and Terra had taken the hit instead. 

It hadn’t mattered that Lauriam finally had his mom back, that he knew that Terra was ultimately fine back in her essence. He’d just seen his father collapse and die from injury a second time, and Vexen had come to talk to him the next day.

“Yeah, see, that’s understandable. Especially given you think everything’s your fault on even the good days. Seeing Terra fall like that, the way everyone reacted… watching the damn kids fucking sob at him…” Xaldin clenched his teeth, breathing through the memory, “Damn nightmare.”

“...how come you didn’t go to Xaldin?” Dilan asked. “Of all people, why Vexen? Vexen is a good man, don’t get me wrong. He loves us, he’d cut his own throat for any of us any day. But Vexen and Even aren’t the most…comforting people around. They’re not exactly sane either. Their own son buried himself in a room of pain for most of his life–”

“Don’t fucking put that on them,” Xaldin scowled, glaring at Dilan, “None of us fucking fixed that shit. That’s on all of us, not just them.”

“...I’m just curious what made you go to Vexen,” Dilan said, deciding not to comment on Xaldin’s anger.

“It wasn’t like we didn’t know the numbers went up when they were upset,” Marluxia muttered. He didn’t often think about the fact that Ienzo hadn’t been out and about on the island or curled up in a corner of the library reading for actual, literal years. It was a hard thing to confront, when it came up. “That’s not exactly the kind of shit that screams, ‘I’m coping’.”

Lauriam sighed softly. There had been a time where he’d prided himself on telling Ienzo and the Zexions apart. He knew that they pretended to be each other all the time, but as the numbers grew and grew, it got harder to know when it was a lie, and it had just…been easier to play along and believe them. There was probably something they could’ve done, but Lauriam really didn’t know what. He wouldn’t have guessed, ‘secret section of my head that’s a manifestation of constant pain and guilt’ in a million years.

“...it’s gonna sound stupid, saying it,” he murmured.

“So? Say it anyway,” Marluxia huffed. 

Lauriam pressed against the arm he was propping his head up with. “...he was there and he asked. He wanted to do a check up on my scar and my world, he asked what was up with me, and I could say that the fact that we were physically together factored in, like he could actually stop me if I tried something, but I think that was just a bonus.”

“...tsk. Heh,” Xaldin laughed, looking amused, “...hey, would you guys be pissed if my character in the game kissed his? His character is apparently crazy attracted to me within the game, and honestly, hearing that? Makes me feel like I owe him one. Seriously, you went to him for a damn suicide rescue cause he just… asked. He just fucking checked on you.”

Xaldin chuckled a little more, before sighing, “...he’s a crazy bastard, but he did more to try to help you both then I did. Maybe that’s just the answer. Maybe I just need to check in on you more.”

“........................I’m sorry, I blacked out after asking if you could kiss Vexen, no??? No????” Dilan said, left eye twitching, “........................................no????”

Lauriam and Marluxia both scrunched their noses in disgust at the question. It was kind of funny, actually--while Xaldin certainly had stopped feeling like an uncle after a few years, Vexen was still firmly in that camp in their heads, so their boyfriend kissing their weird crazy uncle??? Ew.

Lauriam let it slide just with that facial expression, though, and smiled weakly. “I know the track record will just laugh at me, but I don’t try to hide things from you guys. It just…never feels relevant to bring up until someone asks. I don’t think it’s your responsibility to ask me how I’m feeling every day to make sure I’m not looking for tall buildings, but, I mean, I like talking to you. I won’t complain getting to do it more.”

“...no more than a kiss,” Marluxia conceded, his eyes narrowed, “But you have to lead him on like crazy. And you guys have to laugh about it in the post-game session.”

“I’d still rather you not,” Lauriam grumbled.

Marluxia shot back, “Easy for you to say, spending the last two sessions cuddling up to Dilan.”

“HAHAHAHA!” Xaldin barked out a laugh, genuinely looking amused as he grinned with all of his teeth at Marluxia, “Flower, I can always count on you to match my crazy. How about if character Vexen survives to final rounds, he gets rewarded with a sloppy bear kiss before I stab him in the stomach?”

“It got worse? How did it get worse? Don’t sloppy kiss anyone, let alone… a-and in-game Dilan has been nothing but polite to in-game Lauriam!” Dilan insisted, starting to sweat, “I haven’t made any advancements on him at all! We’ve only just met!”

“Look, jokes aside? Maybe it’s not my responsibility to ask how you’re feeling every day. Even if it was, I can’t stop your bad days. That’s literally what I’m whining about, that I can’t stop your bad days,” Xaldin frowned, “But I can make more of an effort to be just… present? I think I got used to a lot of terrible things just because, well… look, I can’t trip all over myself with worry every time one of us is having a shit day or something kinda fucked happens. It happens too often, and yeah, I’m a little desensitized. Sometimes I’ll see one of our group going through something and honestly feel literally nothing about it. Shit sucks, who cares sort of mentality.”

“But I think sometimes I do that for things that really matter too,” Xaldin huffed, “Sometimes I’ll notice one of us is really struggling and try to help, but most of the time I don’t look into it at all. I just see it and dismiss it. Aqua reinvented her damn husband out of Aaxqu on my damn watch. Ienzo buried himself in a pain labyrinth, we lost him for literal years. Isa threw himself at Seifer. Luis threw himself at Orlette. You two fucking threw yourself at the whole damn group… those weren’t small things. They were huge. But I treated them the same way I treated any kind of shit day. And all of you lost your minds at different points.”

“But there Vexen goes, just… asking what’s wrong, and then when he hears about it, trying to help. Really, actually trying,” Xaldin frowned, “Yeah, he did it in a crazy way, but he didn’t ignore that there was a problem at all. No wonder he’s never said he felt fucking bad about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s furious with the rest of us that he’s the only one trying anything. I could at least… try more. To be there for you.”

Marluxia let out a harsh snort. “HA! Yeah, okay, that’ll work. He might even consider it fair enough play that we won’t hear him complaining about it for the next 20 years.”

Lauriam sighed, looking out at the horizon. “In-game Lauriam keeps flip-flopping between being entirely confused by in-game Dilan, and wanting to have sex with him crazy style. If only the world weren’t ending, and all that.”

Refocusing, though, Lauriam’s gaze softened and he squeezed Xaldin in his hug again. “...it’s kinda hard to realize what matters when you do have to dismiss some of it for sanity’s sake,” Lauriam accepted with a soft half-shrug. “But, again, I won’t complain if parsing that out more is something you want to work on.”

Closing his eyes, Lauriam tipped his head closer to Xaldin’s. “...I think we’ve all done some fucked up stuff to each other. It’s not malicious, but…”

As Lauriam trailed off, having trouble with his words, Marluxia hummed shortly. “...wasn’t it you, Di, who first told us that what matters is the way we treat each other? When there was so much out of our control for how our lives went. We tried, sure, sure, but I think acting like that wasn’t affected by all our bullshit too is a stretch. And now with more space to breathe, looking back on some of it looks way more shitty than it seemed in the moment.”

He shrugged. “Not an excuse, but we can definitely do better now.”

“We did… alright for our circumstances,” Dilan agreed, resting his head along Marluxia’s, holding his hand along the wrist where Marluxia was holding Xaldin’s, “Not perfect then, but who could blame us? But yes, I agree with Xaldin, in that we could be doing better now. And while I’m not as angry about it as he seems to be, yes… I’d like to feel like I’m helping more with what everyone is struggling with, especially you two.”

“...it was alarming, hearing you both have a brain injury,” Dilan admitted, “But as frightening as I find it? That must be more alarming for you two. If what Xaldin thinks we need is to check in more… are you two okay? Lauriam, Marluxia?”

“...I mean…I--”

“It just means our brain is even more unique. Sorry, no copycats, only one in existence, try all you might, you’re not getting on our level,” Marluxia haughtily sniffed, turning his head up and away, even if he didn’t pull away from Dilan any. 

That made Lauriam open his eyes again, glancing up at Marluxia worriedly before he attempted a small smile. “...I guess that’s true, in a way. I think it hit me more earlier, when they first told us the results,” he admitted. “When the possibility of all this being more due to a physical reason first came up, I was angrier. If it wasn’t just me messing up all the time, from the choices I made, then it felt out of my control to change anything. But that’s not exactly true. We’ll see how the medication helps, anyway, then I can groan about being doomed.”

“Choices? What choices?” Xaldin asked, reaching up to tap Lauriam on the forehead, “Brain injury or temper, I don’t think you ever ‘chose’ to blow up or be all confused about what’s real or not. You know we know you can’t help that shit, right?”

“Noooo, no no, we specifically are hoping we can ‘help it’,” Dilan stressed, ignoring Xaldin’s frustrated glance at him, as he clarified, “Sorry, wording. Though, I understand your ‘intention’ in saying that Lauriam and Marluxia didn’t sit down and decide ‘this is how we’re going to react to this, here’s how we’re going to turn ourselves into a light coma thing’.”

“Wooooow, very cool, entirely contradicting someone when they’re trying to be comforting,” Marluxia snorted, roughly nudging Dilan. “Especially when they’re trying to affirm that no one blames La-La for being some grand constructor of hassle and misery.”

Lauriam flushed a bit, giving Marluxia an embarrassed look, before he muttered, “The ‘help it’ is just being able to handle my emotions in better ways, I know. And I…know…” he continued more stiltedly, “that I’m not unique in that, and you guys don’t resent me for it, and feeling like you should is something I need to work through.”

Dilan pouted. Why was he being scolded? He had been very clear!

“True, true, and true,” Xaldin agreed, “...you think we ‘should’ resent you? Does this have to do with that same shit that makes you think the world’s gonna end if we buy you a charred lizard from the local foodstand? Not that you can find any charred lizard in Dicea, I’ve heard.” Xaldin grumbled, not looking forward to that bit of cultural compromise once they got to Dicea.

Marluxia rolled his eyes at the pout and crooked his knee to give Dilan a more affectionate nudge this time, the damn baby. Take a second to think about the impact your words have, nerd. 

Lauriam stewed more in embarrassment before groaning. “Not that I’ve seen, at least, though most of the food is pretty good, and wildly cheap. I just…” he let out a harsh sigh, “I’m annoyed by me, so I don’t understand why you aren’t, and so that feels like a trick. Except for the fact that if any of you pulled all this, or even outside of the hypothetical, when your own problems ripple out into the group, of course I’m not annoyed or resentful, so expecting that I’m uniquely hateable is just…stupid. And aggrandizing.”

“The gift stuff is him thinking that literally any resource spent on him is wasted, even if we’re not in an emergency and the gift brings the other person joy,” Marluxia sighed. “Because he’s fucking terrified of being in an emergency situation again, even if we’re basically living in non-grotesque luxury right now.”

“Oh yeah? Damn… why didn’t you have that, Marluxia? Damn, man, when we were holed up in the tavern I was ready to actually kick your ass that one time you ate the last of the rations before I could get it, because I had to go out and drag Demyx and Luis back from that damn bar Larxene was busking at that ended up being a yakuza front.” Xaldin scowled. “Was looking forward to those lizards all day. Should have roasted your fingers for a snack.”

“You really have lizards on the mind today.” Dilan frowned.

“The food they have at the castle lacks just good ol’ fashioned street vendor comfort,” Xaldin said pitifully, before chuckling, “It’s funny, how different Somebodies and Nobodies really can be. Nothing’s 'wasted’ on either of you. Even if Flower is a bastard who eats the last of the lizards when you’re out running an errand.”

“You snooooooze you looooooose~” Marluxia sang, squeezing Xaldin’s hand and doing little flutter taps on the back of it with his fingers almost tauntingly for the comment. “C’mon, we were basically trading in and out who was eating any given day. Y-you wouldn’t want me to cowapse, would you~?!” he gasped through the cutesy voice, “Not when I was pwacticawwy working those pretty fingers to the bone for--! The family.”

“You were working?” Dilan asked, sounding genuinely surprised, “I can’t imagine you… employed, if I’m honest.”

“He was making counterfeit coin,” Xaldin explained, fingers stretching in Marluxia’s grip, “He got pretty good at it by the end, but in the beginning? We had to run this scam of finding drunk people basically in the dark and ‘breaking change’ with them. We’d act like we really wanted something from a food stall, but the stall couldn’t give us change for a silver piece, could you break up a silver for some copper, you can keep a few of the copper if it helps, that sort of thing. They’d take our fake silver, we’d take the copper, and run before they had a chance to look at the silver coin hard enough to notice it was mashed metal.”

“Oh… wait a second!” Dilan frowned, “That’s the same trick that got me when I was a teenager! I was humiliated, my friends never let me forget it! How’d you even remember that!?”

“Oh? I dunno, I didn’t ‘remember’ that happening. Just seems like a pretty obvious trick really… Were you drunk?”

“No!”

“It’s worse that you weren’t drunk,” Xaldin admitted.

“Oi,” Marluxia growled warningly, before sniffing, “I was perfect from the start. Do you even realize what I was working with? I’m practically a miracle-maker.”

Lauriam laughed softly at the fact the scam Xaldin was running was apparently a scam Dilan once fell for, before he tilted his head up to give Marluxia a proud smile. “I saw some of the ones you were working on, before I passed out. They were really cool, Marluxia. I knew you liked working with metal, but they really looked real to me. Bit of an upgrade from sorting through garbage, huh?”

Marluxia huffed. “Oh, no, there was still plenty of that.”

“Damn, there really was. We were seriously struggling, for a few… months, honestly.” Xaldin frowned, looking tired as he recalled, “We were all fighting all the time. No one had any idea how to survive out in the world, and a lot of us were falling into vices and habits that we didn't realize were going to be problems until we were in the thick of it. We’d try to earn coins in some random way or another, end up in fights, or not knowing how to spend the damn things once we had it. Both metaphorically and literally, someone had to teach me a few different times what each coin actually meant.”

“But, as much as we did ‘waste’ resources, as much as we really were struggling, as much as it put us against each other sometimes… shit, Dandelion, I’m not telling you something you don’t know, right? That it didn’t matter?” Xaldin asked, looking to Lauriam, “Well, it did, but… other things mattered more. Yeah, one person eating meant someone else wasn’t going to that day, but going back and forth like that meant no one was dying at the end of the damn week. Yeah, it wasn’t always easy going without, and there were some short tempers and hurt feelings, but that doesn’t mean any of us thought it was more important for some of us to go hungry over others…well, Aeleus might have gone a little more without to make sure Vexen ate, but Vexen’s skin and bones already, he’d have actually died at the end of a week. That man can’t keep weight to save his life.”

“...I know you didn’t have enough when you were kids, either,” Dilan pointed out, tone soft. “That’s why Linnea ended up in the situation she was in in the first place. Did you feel like that before the factory too?”

…it had been easier for things to feel worse, during those months. The confusion and stress and constant threat of trying to live beating down on them. So thoughts about…well, them being the evil parts of the Somebodies, their darkness, that the Somebodies were the key to things being okay, because the Nobodies just weren’t making it on their own… It had been a slow shift, as things grew more desperate and fights increased. 

It was a little ridiculous to look back now at how they’d treated each of them going back to base essence, but looking at the circumstances around them, could you really blame them?

As Xaldin pointed out that some of Lauriam’s worst fears about poverty weren’t the end of the world, he just looked away, pressing more into the grass. Dr. Mariah had pointed it out too, he knew it wasn’t a realistic or healthy way to look at the world or his loved ones, or himself, most of all, and he knew it was just something he had to work on by force and habit, and he knew--

Lauriam winced a little as Dilan name-dropped his mom, half-heartedly shrugging. 

“Take that as a yes,” Marluxia said dryly, before his eyes lidded. “I dunno, I think people are really missing out on the life experience of listening to your parents argue through the wall about how you growing up is an issue, because people will start getting weird ideas if you keep wearing your sister’s hand-me-downs, but you don’t have enough money for new clothes.”

Lauriam cringed into himself.

Xaldin whistled, before sighing, “I have real mixed feelings on your mom, Dandelion. Seeing her around the moon game has given me a little more respect for her, because I’ve seen the way her group listens to her, and god knows someone had to counter that crazy Xigbar, but… she really let you down in every damn way, huh.”

“If you feel mixed, imagine how we feel,” Marluxia griped.

“...it was hard, and she tried. We did have some good moments, and especially seeing her again now, I know she loved me…” There was a huge, unspoken but as Lauriam hesitated, his eyes low and avoiding everyone else. “...I remember things being alright in my earliest memories. The fact that I can point out how things changed meant they were easier. Which…meant they were even easier with only one kid. I didn’t ask to be born, but it’s hard not to feel like the reason my family fell apart.”

Marluxia scowled deeply, his shoulders hiking. “We didn’t ask to be born, and parents are supposed to, oh, you know, take care of their kids. Them not being able to do that was a failure on them, not us.”

“Flower’s right, Dandelion,” Xaldin said, shaking his head a bit, “Not that I don’t get where you’re coming from. You probably didn’t make it up, you probably did notice things getting harder as you got older. Every time one of you brats showed up at the factory, it was the same thing. Shit gets harder when there are more kids around, there’s suddenly a lot more to think about, people relying on you, people you gotta work harder than you did before to try to keep them at least a little safe, a little happy, a little everything more than what you have to do for adults who are in the mess with you. The stress is real.”

“But that’s just, like… part of life, I think,” Xaldin frowned, “And yeah, you try not to let the damn kids know that when they’re little, cause what the hell are they going to do about it, they’re just kids. It's sure as hell not their fault, and it sure as hell wasn’t just you being the worst kid to buy clothes for. That’s just the damn deal of having kids around. They make everything harder and are kinda cute enough to make it worthwhile.”

“More than kinda, we were an adorable kid. If you wanna get transactional and dumb about it, cute enough to get freebie groceries and snacks that weren’t just us spacing out and stealing things,” Marluxia snickered. 

It hadn’t just been the clothes. But Lauriam knew that Xaldin’s point applied to more than just the one example he’d given. Having someone in your care meant that, yeah, you took care of them, and that took effort. More effort meant things were a little harder. In a lot of cases, harder didn’t mean worse, but it had been hard to feel that way about his upbringing…or even every time he had needed something in the factory they had to bargain for. 

Maybe that was something worth talking to his mother about. Even if it kind of terrified him to open up a conversation with her saying, ‘I felt like I ruined everything in our family for being born, was it just the natural way things were harder with another kid?’ Ugh.

“Uuuuugh…” Lauriam groaned, moving his arm off of Xaldin to flop over his head. “I’ve tried so hard to not swipe anything here…”

“Oh, shit, yeah, I forgot about your sticky fingers,” Xaldin chuckled, missing the weight of Lauriam’s arm a little, “Did you actually break the habit here? Or, there? Come on, don’t let the Diceans make you soft, you can steal a little bit.”

“Maybe don’t,” Dilan frowned, “Aren’t you meant to be my conscience? Don’t encourage our lovers to steal.”

“What can I say, you have a shit-conscience. Steal something cool. Like jewelry. Or charred lizard.”

“Nooooooooo,” Lauriam groaned, backed by Marluxia’s snickering. 

“It’d really be something if he managed to break the habit now, hm?” Marluxia laughed, entirely amused. “We’ve already started a box of mystery screws, paper produce dividers, and travel-sized containers of soap. The money and food we don’t even bother sorting out.”

“I don’t know how it happens!” Lauriam cried exasperatedly. “I feel like I’m paying attention all the time! And then I’ll get home with random crap in my pocket like a magic trick!”

Closing his eyes, Marluxia put a solemn hand over his heart. “Strel beyond the grave, still looking out for us.”

“Haha! Ah, some things you don’t have to change. I think your little knick-knack hoarding is fucking cute,” Xaldin chuckled, “Sure was damn useful in the factory. Namine still have her knife?”

“Please tell me Namine doesn’t have a knife,” Dilan suddenly looked exhausted, “I love her still, of course, but she put half of us into a coma for a year. I don’t trust her with a weapon.”

“Think so~” Marluxia laughed, before letting out a harsh breath that turned grim. “I trust her with one. By the time she’d even think to use it, and not just messing with someone’s mind, that’d absolutely be a ‘you need a weapon’ situation. She and Kairi are not getting kidnapped again.”

“Pff. I’d feel bad for any poor bastard that managed to do it. ‘M pretty sure Sora would actually kill someone, at this point. For Kairi or Riku? He’d make a keyblade in real life and then beat you to death with it.” Xaldin huffed, “And brag about it afterwards. The kid’s got some real anger in him, I’m just waiting for something to make him our next fire-flower.”

“Sora? No, I don’t think so. He’s incredibly patient.” Dilan said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him angry.”

“Again, you are not paying attention.”

“He’s literally turned into a living shadow that goes wild on a target. The group has had to siphon power out of him to get him back to his senses,” Lauriam said with a sort of tired dryness, knowing full well he was in a similar situation to Sora in that sense. 

However, bringing their little brother up made a small frown cross Marluxia’s face. “...I think we need to keep an eye on him otherwise too. Before we came here, Sora was chillin’ out with us and asked about what our meds do and side effects and all that, which is fine. But he acted like, and pretty much said, that he’s the only one he trusts to do something in an emergency. He’s not really the type to buckle under expectations, but I can’t say it’s a good thing for a teenager to feel like they have to be the only person with responsibility in a group fuckin’ chalk full of adults.”

“I think he really wanted to be the Head of Household more than we realized,” Lauriam hummed in concern.

“Dareka-prriiiiide~” Xaldin sang-songed out a bit lazily, a little amused… before he pouted, “Hmm, I can feel myself entirely wanting to dismiss that and say ‘he’ll be fine’. Which is what I literally just said I want to stop doing when I notice things are wrong. Alright, no worries, I’ll check in on the little patriarch wannabee. Remind the rug-rat that just because he’s good at finding odd jobs and occasionally cutting through the heart of the island that doesn’t mean he’s the boss.”

Marluxia nodded, evidently content with that, though Lauriam snorted softly. “He’s legitimately employed now, actually. Apparently that guy that got the first player kill last night gave Sora a hookup with the convenience store his mom owns.”

“Not a place on earth free from nepotism,” Marluxia sighed.

“Heha!” Dilan laughed, hiding his face behind his palm as he did so, giving Marluxia an amused look, “That’s very funny actually.”

-

In the real world, there was a slight knock at the door. Even waiting outside, holding a small plate with a mug on it.

It took a beat before Lauriam pushed himself up, blinking blearily a few times and just barely not yawning as he ambled to the door. He raised an eyebrow at the delivery, asking Even, “What’s up?”

“It’s been a few hours. I thought I’d check on you a final time before heading to sleep,” Even explained, holding out the plate and mug as he explained, “As apologies for waking you, I’ve made you some chamomile tea with a few crackers. That should get you back to sleep fairly quickly once I’m done assessing.”

A few hours? Damn. 

“It’s alright, Xaldin, Dilan, Marluxia and I have just been talking,” Lauriam shook his head a little, opening the door more for Even and taking the mug and plate from him, “Thank you, though.”

“So far? Still no change from my perspective,” he smiled sheepishly, “And nothing weird going on in our world either. Have the Heart Trio settled in for the night?”

“You know how it goes with them. At the start of the night, they’re talking seriously about just pulling an all-nighter since they ‘can’t’ sleep anyway,” Even sighed, heading inside, “And then an hour later they’re all drooling in a heap on the floor. I always forget how much teenagers sleep. You were the same way, for a while there. There were days where the second your shift was over, both you and Marluxia were entirely out until we had to wake you for the next day’s work. A side effect of your bodies growing, I know, but it’s so odd watching them go from one hundred to zero in an instant.”

Zexion hadn’t really been the same way, but Even knew that had been partly stubbornness, on his son’s part. He had certainly been tired enough. In retrospect, Even wished he had caught his son sleeping more.

“How are you feeling? Don’t take a sip of your tea yet, I want to check your temperature.”

Lauriam huffed a soft laugh, setting the dishes on his nightstand. …for the time being, he wasn’t about to eat crackers on his bed. “And yet they’re earlier risers than Marluxia and I ever were. I spent a lot of time trying to conserve and send energy his way, but no matter what we’d end up going to sleep right after quitting time.”

“I’m feeling alright. As you can expect,” Lauriam rolled his eyes with light-hearted exasperation, “we dipped into some tense subjects, but I’m feeling fine about it all. And even if the full intention is sort of for them to be around while we’re sleeping, it’s been nice spending time with Xaldin and Dilan and not having to worry so much about making sure they’ll get enough sleep with the time difference.”

“It’s good to hear they’ve not been making nuisances of themselves. Do remind them that you need real sleep at some point though,” Even scolded lightly, reaching over to place his palm against Lauriam’s forehead, then the back of his hand on Lauriam’s neck, “Nothing unusual in your senses? Odd tastes, odd smells?”

Lauriam smiled sheepishly at the scolding, and half just for Even’s expectation he took a deep breath before making the same clicking noise he’d been prompted to before. “...nope. I can smell the tea, which is normal, I feel like I’m hearing you fine and seeing like normal, nothing feels numb…” Lauriam’s eyes flicked up as he tried to remember the utter laundry list of things he was supposed to note in particular. “Uh… My stomach is fine, no dizziness. I don’t feel wired, but I guess we’ll see how I get to sleep.”

Even looked Lauriam over closer, checking his eyes, his skin, looking for veins… “You do seem alright,” Even agreed, leaning back, “How about otherwise? Just in general. I don’t intend to keep you up, but it won’t be helpful if stress keeps you up either.”

Lauriam shrugged a little more tiredly. “About as well as I can expect. I mean, you came to my appointment with Aeleus. Seeing that chart,” Lauriam’s smile faded, “sucked. We all figured so already, but it feels different seeing some objective medical test show you that there’s something wrong with my brain. But we’re dealing with it as much as we can, and that doesn’t really feel like a concession right now.”

“We’ll see how things turn out,” he accepted, “And hopefully how they do is better.”

“Well, certainly nothing can be improved upon without learning more about it. Goodness knows you’ve had enough concussions to give me plenty of sleepless nights.” Even scowled a bit. “At least in this place you have more reliable quarters to recover in. Hellfire if it wasn’t impossible to let an injury heal in the factory… Well, those times are behind us. Drink your tea, eat your crackers, and do not spend all night with Dilan and Xaldin talking your ears off. Or more,” Even said, squinting meaningfully at Lauriam. “Rest.”

Lauriam sighed softly. Yeah…yeah. His head was the one currently under scrutiny, but they all had injuries from the factory that hadn’t healed quite right, whether you were talking about Even’s knee or Ienzo’s shoulder, or any of the others. If they were left with those scars, both literal and metaphorical, that couldn’t be healed, then at least they could now heal properly from anything new. 

Holding his hands up in defence, Lauriam rolled his eyes with another sigh. “Like I could even convince them if I wanted to. Goodnight, Even.”

Even nodded, satisfied with that, as he got up and headed out of the room. 

-

Chop-chop-chop-chop-chop!

The sole sounds of a knife against a cutting board had the potential to sound dreadfully lonely for how large a kitchen they aimed to fill. However, Henryk was a little relieved for that single sound calling out into the ether after a hectic dinner service. After being surrounded by bubbling and frying and clatter and shouts, it was nice to have the space around him to just breathe while he worked on overnight prep. Henryk thought his work was always top-notch, as befit a Prime, but having the restaurant kitchen to himself did let him make sure everything was as perfect as it could be for the openers tomorrow. Henryk an irreplaceable, important piece of the restaurant’s machine. 

A highly trusted one too! There was a reason he was the only line cook staying after hours to prep and clean--obviously he’d proved himself far and beyond the others to be the only one the more senior chefs trusted around the kitchen alone. 

…sure, maybe it sounded nice to head over to a bar with some of the others after service, decompress and celebrate another day more socially, meet some pretty girls, get a real girlfriend who would be so impressed by Henryk’s skills that his last name wouldn’t even come up in conversation for ages, and when it finally came up she’d just laugh and say ‘you know? I wasn’t thinking about it, but it makes total sense!’, and when he’d bring her by Red Grove, Dad would start asking Karin when she’d find a partner and start thinking about settling down…

BUT!

The after-hours work was important, and Henryk was the only one capable and trusted enough to do it, so he was happy to. The rest could come later. Girls would probably be more impressed hearing about him as a chef once he got promoted or figured things out to start his own restaurant anyway. 

…he did wish the walk home wasn’t so spooky, though. The streets looked so different at 1AM. Creepy.

Though, for being as late as it was? Oddly enough, out of nowhere, came the soft trilling sound of a song bird. 

Trrrll–tril–trrrrrl-tril

It was hard to tell where the bird song was coming from. It seemed to echo ahead on the roads, bouncing between the houses. It was a soothing, pleasant sound, rare for that time of night in such an area…

And then! Another strange, marvelous sound! The hooting of an owl, somewhere in the buildings above Henryk.

Hoo–hoo! Hoo-hoo!

The owl hooting, like the previous song bird, was difficult to locate. It seemed to just be coming from somewhere vaguely ‘above’. Not an impossible sound for the middle of the city, but surely still as unusual as the song bird…

And then, straight ahead, echoed back the sound of a raven!

Ca-caw! C-caw!

It was so clearly just ahead, if one could peer their eyes through the darkness between the soft city lights… What a curious arrangement of birds, so late in the middle of a city–

Behind Henryk’s ear, literally a hair breath from his skin, came a soft, beastial, dangerous growl. Ghrrrrrrrr–RUFF RUFF!

Bird sounds weren’t that weird. Gliese wasn’t some communal rest stop triangulated between farms, it very much was a city-city, if not boasting some of the tourist allure others had, but they still had, yanno, trees and stuff. So that meant birds! Not a strange thing to see when out and about. 

And Henryk didn’t think much of the songbird trill until he heard the owl hoots, because while his brain could accept ‘bird sounds’ as just noise, putting a daytime bird next to a nighttime one sent up the alert that something wasn’t quite right. And if that wasn’t enough, ravens were just kind of creepy, so as Henryk slowed…

…what…was…

Henryk went rigid as he felt the growl over his ear, and while at first his brain had said running right into a strange flock of birds wasn’t a great idea, that was promptly overridden by:

“GYAHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

Henryk’s voice pitched high as he booked it, running away from the growl. Right in a straight line from how he’d been walking. Right towards the birds.

“Pffffff HEE~~ HAHAHA!” O’saa laughed, wrapping his arms around his stomach as a giggle he was trying to swallow turned into a boisterous laugh. The man bent over in half, clearly struggling to stay standing as he gasped between laughs, wiping a tear from his eyes as he said, “Oh nooooo, maybe that was too mean… Henryk! Henryk! It’s just me!” He called after the man dashing off down the street, “It’s O’saa!”

To O’saa’s credit, that did make some of Henryk’s screams dwindle. Also to O’saa’s credit, Henryk didn’t stop.

“Nope nope nope nope not today!” Henryk said to himself, somewhere between a simper and a mutter. Some terrible beast right behind him was awful, but more or less just an animal’s instinct. O’saa getting up to, to…hijinx!? In the middle of the night?! That had the potential to be waaaaaaay scarier.

Henryk probably would’ve kept running all the way home like they were still kids and dashing for ‘home base’ in tag, if not for a stitch flaring up in his side, causing Henryk to stumble and involuntarily catch his breath. “Ah fuck…”

“Oh, tut-tut, someone didn’t do his stretches.” O’saa sighed, sauntering over at first casually, and then sprinting when he realized Henryk had a look in his eyes like he was a second from bolting again. O’saa quickly made it to his side, and then tried to play it off like he hadn’t sprinted there, grinning as he cooed in concern, “Henryk, my friend, jogging so early in the morning, after a long shift at work? You are too ambitious! All this overworking will send you to an early grave. Come, let me help you up, you may lean on me~”

Resigned to at least talking to O’saa on the way home, Henryk straightened himself with a sigh, pressing his palm along his side as he started walking again, ignoring O’saa’s offer. “O’saa… Do I even want to know what you’re doing out here? Like you said, forcing people just getting off work into some impromptu hundred-meter dash kinda sucks.”

“I was out shopping!” O’saa said cheerfully, shifting a dufflebag looped around his chest against his hips, patting it, “Was out of ingredients, so I needed to go collect some fresh. Perhaps you and I are getting old, my friend. Feels like not long ago at all a trip like this would have been nothing to me, but today? I really feel it in my muscles.” O’saa groaned, stretching his back a bit as he kept pace with Henryk. “We have one foot in the grave already, Henryk. That’s why we should make use of the last of our years. Take risks. Make stupid decisions.” O’saa smirked, giving Henryk a small wink. “You only live once, yes?”

“You’re not even 30,” Henryk grumbled, attempting to give O’saa a flat look, but landing somewhere more around ‘wary’. “I’ve just been doing repetitive motions and didn’t stretch, like you said; I’m not ‘feeling’ anything.”

Giving a more wary look to the dufflebag--he could practically feel the illegality of it--Henryk sighed. “And your kind of shopping center is only open in the middle of the night, right…” He shuddered. “Ugh, I really don’t want to know. You just went to see some crackpot herbalist that’s only open late, that’s the story that happened.”

O’saa giggled again, running his fingers over his mustache. “Why must he be a ‘crackpot’ in this particular tale? Perhaps he was a very respectable and established fellow. Got a degree, publishes research papers, had double-blind studies. Give my crackpot herbalists more credit, Henryk.”

O’saa looked around the empty streets, smiling with genuine affection. “Besides, this is the best time of day to be out and about. The air is calm and fresh, you’re not fighting for your space on the paths, it’s so quiet. It’s really very rare you hear anything like a scream in the distance, and even then, it usually stops very abruptly and then boom! Peaceful silence again. Very tranquil.”

“Why’s it gotta be a he?” Henryk shot back, before griping with a glower, “And anyone that collaborates with you willingly is a crackpot in some way or another. It doesn’t matter if some of it actually works, your ‘projects’ are still crazy.”

That didn’t always mean O’saa didn’t have points, though. While walking alone in the dark during the witching hour was creepy, all the stuff O’saa said was true too--there was a peace and tranquility to it, a sense of freedom and potential to the air when places that were usually hustling and bustling were nearly empty. Like the empty kitchen Henryk tended to, his lonely walk back just added to the calming hours post-service. 

When they were actually calming. 

“If you valued that peace so much, I’d think you’d prefer to not provoke screaming,” Henryk grumbled, giving O’saa a glare. “You’re such a jerk sometimes.”

“Ghk-heeeheee~” O’saa snorted, once again trying and failing to suppress a laugh, eyes crinkling with amusement as he peered at Henryk out of the side of his eyes, “What’s a little prank between childhood friends? You used to love my pranks! Like that time I put that happy, bouncy little toad into your underwear? What a dancer you became that day! Or that time I convinced you some charcoal was very hard chocolate? What a fun trip to the dentist that was! Your teeth were so white afterwards!”

“Ahhhh, good times,” O’saa sighed, before pouting, “It’s not been that fun in quite a while. When did we all become so distant, hmm? We grew up together, but now the only time I see any of you is waylaying you at or between work. All of you are wasted on adulthood.”

Henryk huffed and rolled his eyes. One would think he’d grow an immunity to O’saa’s pranks after all these years, but pretty much the only defense he’d gained was not crying after them anymore and having enough self-respect not to hide behind Karin after them. Not that his sister had ever really helped much. It tended to be a more rare prank that she didn’t find funny too. 

“You have a funny definition of love,” Henryk grumbled, before shooting back, “Or maybe we just understand what adulthood actually is. Some of us actually want to make something of our lives, not to mention taking some of the burden of rent from our parents.”

“Marcoh? Is that you? He’s always so hard to spot, for being six-foot whatever he is and built like the trunk of a fat tree,” O’saa murmured, squinting exaggeratedly around, before smirking at Henryk, “Also, really? ‘Rent’, Prime? Who on earth are you paying rent to?” 

Coloring, Henryk sputtered, “W-well, you know!! It’s not exactly rent, but Dad’s still the person paying property tax and the Barbarians’ wages for keeping the building running. And if I’m making my own money then Dad doesn’t need to pay for me in general, I can take care of myself! Even in good positions money is still survival!”

Henryk deflated a bit, grumbling, “And when I get things started, there’s no way I want his help getting a loan to start my restaurant. I can do it myself.”

Just like how Karin made her journalism career take off by herself, and how August had been voted into the mayor’s office on his own merit. Henryk didn’t need to be dragged along by their successes, he was just as much a Prime who could win the game of life as well as them.

“Honestly, I don’t understand any of you Primes. If my mother was an ambassador in a foreign embassy, I’d never work a day in my life for the amount of money she brings in alone… well, never work a day in my life, but with less raised eyebrows pointed at me as I do so. What’s the point of becoming that successful if my own family can’t leech off of me till the end of time? It’s doing her a disservice really.” O’saa huffed. “Any word from Mrs. Prime if she’ll make a trip back from Dicea, now that both of her little babies are back at home? Though I suppose that’s not exactly an easy trip to make on the fly.”

“I don’t want to not work for the rest of my life, O’saa,” Henryk sighed, before forcing out a scoff, “Okay, let’s take money out of the equation--what else am I supposed to do? I don’t want to just sit at home forever while everyone is off doing what they’re passionate about. I want passion!! And being comfortable with money just means I can go after something I really want to do, rather than accepting any job that’ll take me.”

Though, as O’saa brought May Prime into the conversation, Henryk grimaced and crossed his arms, looking down at the road. His jaw grinding back and forth for a quiet moment before answering, “Probably not soon. All those fires the coast guard reported seeing from Danganronpa, and those smoke warning days we got through fall and winter? Dunno what was going on, but it means that trying to travel back north through Basacta probably isn’t a great idea right now.”

He shrugged after another beat. “She’ll be happy to hear Karin’s back home. Mom’s last visit was right after she left, so it’s been a while since everyone’s been home.”

“Ah, Henryk. So good. So much to prove. So very blonde,” O’saa said, reaching over idly to twirl a finger around one of Henryk’s bangs, curling it before flicking it into a cow-lick, “Always so insistent he can and should go do great things, all on his own… You are aware your sister is a crazy person, yes? Your father too, really. You know I saw that man jumping between buildings again the other day? That man is going to break a hip at this point, your sister is going to be at the wrong end of someone’s sword, and both of them could avoid such fates by just doing less. Life is long, my friend, why go through such efforts to cut it short? We should be relaxing through it–oh!”

O’saa startled, looking at his bag as it suddenly started thumping, genuinely unnerved as he said, “Oh, that’s more alive than it looked on the side of the road.”

…okay, he couldn’t really argue that Karin was a crazy person, Henryk’s glare at O’saa aside. (And the glare couldn’t really be for O’saa messing with his hair, because Henryk had been in a hot kitchen all evening and was pretty gross regardless.) There was achieving greatness, and then there was going into active warzones not to fight or give aid, but to capture the events. Which was still important!! Obviously, because the damn Tsar and Ani had personally commended Karin’s work and gave her a fancy award and nationwide recognition, but it just meant that her brand of craziness was a type of crazy the world needed.

“Dad and Karin know their limits,” Henryk sighed, before drawing himself up with a determined set to his jaw, “And so do I! We’re Primes, we can’t even avoid greatness, it just happens.”

That return to dignity was cut short as Henryk flinched from the thumping bag, giving O’saa a wide-eyed, unnerved look, before he quickly shook his head a sped up, muttering, “It’s herbs, it’s herbs, it’s herbs, you didn’t see anything, it’s just weird plants he grabbed from the riverside like a weirdo.”

O’saa pouted as Henryk sped up, watching the man power-walk away from him, before looking down at his bag. Wellllll, this was going to be… tricky…

-

“Surprise!” O’saa said cheerfully the next afternoon, presenting to the two teens their new gift, “I got it! Just for you~”

Levi and Marina both gave a weirded out look at the… “What is that?” Marina asked plainly.

“It’s an ugly rabbit!” O’saa said, holding the basket with the little creature in it closer to the two teens, “And we love it all the more for how ugly and horrible it is!”

“W-what happened to its… fur?” Levi trembled, looking a little nauseous, “...a-and skin?”

“No idea! It’s surprisingly active though! It doesn’t seem to be in pain? Whatever injury disfigured it seems to have healed. Pet it, it’s furry! In some places!” O’saa beamed at his siblings, before glancing over at Samarie, “Sammy, you think it’s cute, yes? It reminds me of you! Perhaps I should have gifted it to you instead.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Samarie muttered, her voice almost inaudible but the vicious, unimpressed glare she gave O’saa was more than loud enough. However, it softened as she looked back at the, er, rabbit. “...you didn’t reanimate it, did you? If you can’t even tell if it’s in pain now, you should’ve left it alone.”

As much as Samarie listened attentively to any little detail of magical experiments Marina wanted to talk about, she really had no idea if any of the Wizards had figured out necromancy. However, it was commonly talked about enough in her own books that, looking at the mangled creature in front of them, it’d easily come to mind. 

It was…something of an interesting topic. Intriguing. But one of the things that had kept Samarie from thinking about it more deeply was the potential to raise something, only for it to be kept in pain or strife in a body no longer suited for life. It sounded like a true nightmare to be kept in a body that acted more like a cage.

“Nope! Not my sort of thing.” O’saa said, glancing at Marina, who said nothing, “I suppose a good owner should take their pet to a vet if it looks like this, so… Levi! Time to practice some social skills and take a trip to an animal clinic!”

“W…what?” Levi whispered, starting to visibly shake, “Why me?”

“It’s your pet! Congratulations! You take good care of this monstrosity now~ I know you can handle it!” O’saa said, shoving the basket into Levi’s arms, who practically recoiled in horror once the rabbit was actually right in front of him, “And stay out of the apartment today. Our dear father wants some ingredients prepared before he comes back from whatever dark hole he’s put himself away in, and the ingredients are volatile when being prepared. No place for children or awful little rabbits! Seriously, stay out, don’t test me today.” O’saa said gravely, suddenly looked serious.

Marina rolled her eyes, unimpressed, “Fiiiiiiine. I guess we’ll… go to the vet? A vet? Where the heck even are vet clinics?”

“Go ask the Rogues, I’m sure they’ve brought their own monstrosity to one at some point. Noooow, ta-ta!” O’saa waved at them, before heading to the Wizard apartment door, which would lead down to the basements. He slammed the door shut behind him, a notable ‘click’ sound of the lock.

…giving Levi a task out of the apartment, shooing Marina out as well, for the whole da--

Samarie sighed silently. Naturally her sweet Marina wouldn’t cast out her brother to navigate going to the vet on his own. The brief hope was nice for a moment. 

She gave the horrible rabbit a pitying look. “A vet would know if it’d be better to put it down, I guess. And could maybe recommend a shelter for someone who actually wants a rabbit.” As much as an idle walk through town was romantic, Samarie didn’t really want to wander carrying around an abomination that’d surely get them attention, so…

Lightly rubbing an arm, Samarie sighed. “I guess we ask a Rogue that’s home, then. And maybe get a blanket or something to put over the basket.”

The rabbit, for its part, seemed oddly calm considering its sudden strange new circumstances. It stared up at the three teens with wide, bulging black eyes. Every now and again one lid of its eyes would blink. First one, then the other. Never both at the same time, as it drooled slightly, carried to a new door that came with it a large knocking sound.

There was silence behind the door, though just when the teens were glancing at each other, deciding if they should knock again, it opened. A tired, ruffled-looking Daan with curling smoke drifting up from the hand obscured by the door, and Moonless right by his feet, sniffing at the teens, then the basket furiously. Samarie cringed back from Moonless’ inspection, hiding more behind Marina’s shoulder. 

“Hey,” Daan greeted, before blinking slowly at the…thing. In the basket Levi was holding. “...you guys know I’m not an animal doctor, right? I can’t treat mange.”

“I don’t know if it has enough hair to count as ‘mange’.” Marina mused, looking at the rabbit warily, “...well, maybe in certain spots.”

“Daan, do you, uh… do you know where we could take it to get looked at? We think it's… dead.” Levi frowned, looking at the rabbit, “But it just might not have noticed yet.”

The rabbit sniffed the air back at Moonless. The sniffs were heavy, labored things. Snot bubbled out of its nose after a moment, popping in little bubbles.

Rows of eyes blinked curiously at the rabbit, Moonless’ snout pushing at the basket before her jaw started to open--

“No you don’t, no, Moonless,” Daan chided, putting a hand over her snout and pushing her away from the basket as he tried to take up more space in the doorframe. At least it seemed she knew on some level she wasn’t supposed to eat it--Moonless was generally a very well-behaved girl, but if she really wanted something she could bowl him over no problem and there was nothing Daan could do about it. 

“That’s an issue,” he sighed to Levi’s assessment of the problem, “Yeah, we take Moonless to a vet in uptown, they might have some options for you. Do you - Moonless. Bed. - do you three want someone to come with you?”

Moonless plopped her butt down next to Daan and whined. 

“We’re not little kids anymore,” Samarie muttered quietly. 

“Y-yes please–”

“No, we can handle it.” Marina assured Daan, placing her hand firmly on Levi’s shoulder, who flinched, “We just needed a place to look. You say the vet is uptown? Which station?”

Levi trembled harder. He didn’t waaaaant to go on the traaaaaain. 

“Fineigh Ridge, it’s near the sculpture gallery; Gliese Animal Hospital, big orange and teal sign, should be able to spot it,” Daan directed, almost unthinkingly scratching behind Moonless’ ears to soothe her dramatics. Yes, yes, it’s unfair you can’t eat the possibly dead creature, boo hoo.

While Levi wasn’t hiding his dread at the prospect of the tunnel, Samarie didn’t look much more enthused. “Uptown…it’s always so busy. We should…probably leave soon if we don’t want to get caught up in traffic.” She glowered a bit. “Spring tourists.”

“Worse things to be hassled by, than people enjoying the weather,” Daan shrugged, before giving the teens a nod. “Let me know if you need anything else, I’ll likely be at home all day.”

Marina gave Daan an appreciative fist-bump, before the three teens headed off. Grabbing a towel on the way out, they put it over the basket before heading out into the world. 

-

Marina led the way, at ease among the shifting crowds as they maneuvered their way onto the rail line. Samarie and Levi were both practically glued to her shoulder blades, Levi going as far to hold onto the back of her sweater as he stared fixedly at the ground, matching her steps until Marina stopped in front of some free seats, turning around and plopping down with a sigh, “We got lucky, there’s still spots to sit.”

“Y-yeah,” Levi murmured, sitting next to Marina, the basket on his lap as he stared fitfully at his knees. “...u-um… thanks for coming with me, Marina…”

“Don’t thank me, the rabbit thing isn’t just your responsibility, O’saa just knew you’d take it if he shoved it in your hands. The big jerk.” Marina pouted, puffing out her cheeks… before she looked dryly at Samarie, “And there’s no getting rid of you.”

Samarie scooted all the way to the side of her seat next to Marina--to be closer to her, of course, but that also came with being farther away from anyone else. She glared fitfully at the legs of the others in their cart as she adjusted her socks, pulling them up. Thankfully mid-Spring was still pretty mild weather in Gliese, but being in a crowd always felt like wearing another stifling layer of scratchy wool over her clothes, almost compounded even worse when Samarie was trying to dress for warmer weather. 

Marina was always a balm much more soothing than any sunny day, however.

“There’s safety in numbers?” Samarie offered to Marina noting her presence, lips twisting up in what was likely meant to be a smile, but looked far more awkward. “A-and I’m another person for accountability, if we end up needing to get rid of the rabbit.”

“Why would we get rid of the rabbit? What, because it’s nightmare inducing?” Marina asked, leaning back and, surprising both of her companions, putting her arms around the back of their seats, “You don’t get rid of things that suddenly show up in your life just because they’re unsettling and potentially rabid. You get it its shots and hope it doesn’t bite you. We’re not monsters.”

“Y…yeah.” Levi murmured, nodding hesitantly.

“And it’s sleeping in Levi’s room.”

Whimper.

Samarie flushed before quickly looking down, her smile reading much more clearly, even if it was aimed at her lap. “I, um, sort of meant if they get weird about needing an adult for legal adoption, or if they recommended euthanasia. I don’t exactly trust O’saa’s assessment if something’s in pain or not.”

It seemed a bit more monstrous to her to keep something alive when every moment was agony. 

Glancing briefly over Marina and Levi’s knees, she asked, “Have you guys ever wanted a pet before?”

“No, I have Levi.” Marina said, this at least earning her a dry glance from her brother, “Well, I guess I also had a cat once, back when I lived with my mom. It was really more my moms cat though, big, fat thing that I remember very clearly still had its balls. Not cute at all, I didn’t miss him when I left. Levi?”

“Huh?” Levi startled, somehow not having expected to be directly addressed despite literally everything, “Oh, uh… um… I don’t think so. I don’t think the orphanage let us keep pets, and I don’t really remember anything like that with my mom… I guess it’s never really occurred to me I could get one… dads not going to like this.” 

“If he ever notices, just tell him you’re doing experiments on it. One glance at it? What’s he going to do, dispute it? He’ll be proud you’re being so ambitious.” Marina said, “What about you Samarie? You’ve never had a pet, have you?”

A lot of her books, in talks of familiars, mentioned cats, though Samarie wasn’t sure if that was just influence from fantasy or if cats really made for good magical companions. She had to admit, the idea of a little cat companion was kind of cute…but that did hinge on the cat being cute too. 

Grimacing a bit, Samarie nodded in agreement to Marina’s idea--Mr. Wizard would accept that answer at face value--before she frowned more and shook her head. “No. Caligura’s said keeping an animal in the house is a waste of money, if you aren’t aiming to create a den for vermin. And I wouldn’t want to bring an animal there anyway. If I wouldn’t worry about him kicking anything out of the way, I’d have to deal with Pav shaving it as a prank or letting it outside and ‘forgetting’ to leave a door or window open.”

Her eyes lowered a bit as she toed some of the flooring under their seats. “If I had my own place, it might be nice having a pet. I can see how it’d be nice, having something excited to see you when you come home.”

“I bet you’d be happy with a dog, Samarie… but, like, a cute dog. Or maybe even a pretty dog. Something with really long, silky fur, looks expensive, those types? I feel like you’d enjoy having a dog to pamper.” Marina mused, “You’re the pampering type. You just need something to put that energy on.”

Sniff, sniff… sniiiiiffff.

Levi worriedly glanced up for a moment as someone standing near his seat sniffed the air a few times, before immediately looking down at his knees again. Some pretty girl in a clearly professionally made custom made dress was sniffing the air, pouting quizzically… before whispering to her companion, “Levi. Do you smell that? I think a Kyu’s gotten on the train.”

Samarie perked up, raising her gaze to meet Marina’s in adoring awe. “Y-you think so? Would you like a dog too, Marina?”

A dragonkin guy looking half asleep tilted his head towards the girl consideringly before sniffing and looking around. “Ah…? Man, that’d be a bummer if one got caught in a compartment somewhere.”

Levi’s tail flicked lightly as he roved his gaze over the cart interior, looking for places a curious kyu-spawn could’ve gotten stuck in, walking in with a crowd of people, before he looked to the teens sitting nearby. “Hey, have you guys been riding long?”

Levi immediately looked like he was going to pass out. Instant horror. Someone was talking to him.

Marina, in turn, placed a hand on top of her brother's head, smiling pleasantly up at the stranger, “Not super long, I think it’s been two stops. Are you two hoping for a seat? I get it, those heels are cool but look brutal to stand on.”

“Ah, no! I am incredibly strong in every part of my body, up to and including remarkably strong heels~” Madeline smiled proudly, “I could probably stand for days on end without break!”

“Cool~” Marina smiled back, “So what’s up then?”

Samarie’s wonder turned to a glower as she glanced over the guy who’d spoken up and the girl next to him, slouching as she frowned at their stomachs. Who talked on the underground?! And who dressed like they were doing a photoshoot in Nimbasa while running errands in the middle of the day in Gliese? Preps.

“Was wondering if you saw something weird,” Levi shrugged with a lazy, easy-going grin. “Maddie’s got a good sense for these things, and it’d be a lot easier than searching through the whole cart if you happened to see some curious critter taking transport.” Turning to Madeline, he sighed in lament. “If not, though, I should go let the conductor know for the next maintenance check, huh?”

“Curious creature… oh! Did the rabbit peek out of the towel? Is that what you’re talking about?” Marina asked, gesturing to the basket.

“Oh…?” Madeline leaned in, sniffing. Sniff sniff… SNIIIIIIIFF– “Oh! I think that’s it! Levi, I found it!” Madeline squealed, beaming at her companion. “The Kyuu!”

Levi frowned, looking down at his basket, “It’s not a Kyuu… it’s a rabbit… sort of.”

Marina reached for the towel, lifting it up to show…

It was a black… thing. That definitely, if one considered the possibility that half of one of its floppy ears had been cut in half and petrified into a standing position, the other nearly the size of the massive rabbit itself and flopping over itself, could potentially be a rabbit. The black fur on its body seemed to tuft thickly only in certain areas, like most of its face, its lower back, a bit of its arms and legs and its lower stomach. Its skin… was probably skin. It looked burnt. Boiled and lumpy, weirdly hard, like the creature was half charcoal.

It had big, black bulging eyes and buck teeth. It stared up at the princess and kyu-partner…

“...hssssss,” it hissed. The sound oddly like a snake. 

Oh! Score~ No having to track down the conductor and have a potentially trapped creature weighing on his conscience today~ Though, uh…

Levi scratched his cheek as he tilted his head at the, er, ‘rabbit’. “Not a Kyuu, but I think you got your hands on a burnear, there. I’m surprised it went up to you, honestly; most do to try and burn folks.”

Huffing a breath in amusement, he gave Madeline a grin. “Little buddy saying anything interesting?”

Samarie perked a little, giving the girl a suspicious look. What did that mean?

“He’s very polite. And thank you~ I do wear many bright and fun colors that are delightful to look at~” Madeline preened, twirling in place to make her dress flare out, to the mild distress of other passengers nearby. 

The burnear blinked lopsidedly. Hssssssss.

“Ooooh, so cute~” Madeline squealed. 

Marina and Levi gave each other bewildered looks, before looking down at their fucked up probably dead rabbit. A burnear… “Oh, of course our brother scraped a weird magic thing off the side of the road,” Marina mumbled, “Just our luck.”

“Oh, that must be why he likes you! If you rescued him from the road, I mean. They’re dangerous for little animals!” Madeline said, fretting a bit, “He was probably so scared!”

The burnear drooled.

Oh, so she was just crazy, okay. Though Samarie gave the, uh, burnear a more wary look at its hissing. 

“Probably why he hasn’t tried to set you on fire,” Levi added cheerfully. “Though if you’re gonna hang with him more, I’d recommend some fire-proofing. While they can sorta turn the flames on and off, burnears’ flames help with managing their body temperature, so when you see this little buddy’s fur start to shimmer a purplish-blue, things are about to heat up.”

“Should…we still take it - him, to the vet?” Samarie asked warily, giving the drool a more nervous than grossed out look now. “If you’re keeping him, he’d still need shots…”

“Never hurts to double check,” Levi hummed in agreement.

“We should probably also just confirm it’s a burnear. No offense, train strangers, I’m sure you’re not trying to lead us astray. But we still gotta do our due diligence,” Marina smiled, winking charmingly.

Madeline giggled behind her hand, before whispering to Levi, “She’s cute, you should pay her a compliment.” 

Levi gave Madeline an amused glance before grinning at Marina. “None taken, none taken--professionals are around for a reason, right? Little more reputable than someone striking up conversation enroute. Always nice seeing someone going out on a limb for our furry, sometimes burny friends--sometimes a kind face is right on the money.” Levi winked back. 

Samarie went stiff, back straight as her gaze lifted, glaring viciously at - who the fuck did this guy think he was?!?! Marina was of course divinely gorgeous but who did that?! Keep your winks to yourself, scales, or she’d wring his skinny neck and snap it like a twig!

Marina smiled sweetly and, with no hesitation, placed her other hand on the top of Samarie’s, in the same way she had Levi’s. Pat-pat. Pat. Stay in your seat, pat. 

Who needed a pet? She had her hands full with these two already. 

“We appreciate you~ But, I think this is our stop. Come on, guys, let’s hurry off before the doors shut on us.” Marina said, standing up as the train rolled to a stop. “Lovely meeting you, uh, sorry, we didn’t exchange names…”

“Levi!” Madeline said cheerfully, pointing at Levi, before pointing to herself, “Her excellency Princess Madeline, Heir of Saiph-Navam!”

“....sure!” Marina said, smiling warmly at the crazy girl, “I’m Marina, the one shaking is Levi, and the one seething is Samarie. Say hi if you ever see us again!”

Something swam and jiggled like custard in Samarie’s gut at the pat, her glare easing into a flustered, adoring smile. Ah, she knew her Marina would always be true, even if that wasn’t an invitation for people to be weird at her. And she’d assure Samarie by holding her hand~

Nearly. Basically. 

Levi’s eyebrows raised a little at the rapid switch of emotions, though he just let out a soft laugh, giving the group a wave as they exited the cart. “Oh, hey, another for the Levi club, nice. Nice to meet you, good luck with your burnear!”

Samarie gave the two of them one last wary look as they exited into the tunnel station before letting go of a small breath. On safe ground again. 

“...what was with those two?” she mumbled derisively, “Why would the princess ever come down here, and who talks to strangers that familiarly?” She cast a worried glance over to Marina and Levi. “He didn’t bother you too much, did he?”

It probably wouldn’t be that hard to track him down. People tended to take note of dragonkin, even idly. 

“I’m fine, and will be even better if you put all memories of them out of your goofy, dehydrated little head. Give yourself recent and specific amnesia, Samarie. If you remember, pretend you don’t. You know…” Marina smiled, her perfectly painted pink lips glistening as she placed a perfectly manicured nail beneath Samarie’s chin, lifting her gaze to catch her in the eyes, “For me? Because I asked you too~”

(⁄⁄•⁄ᗜ⁄•⁄⁄)♡

Samarie turned bright pink, eyes locked on Marina’s and her spine slouching like Marina’s finger was holding up her whole body. “I-I-I, of course! A-anything for you, Marina!” she yelped.

And maybe it’d be true even for giving herself amnesia, since Samarie looked about five seconds away from passing out due to pure fluster. 

(She would do anything for Marina. Samarie meant it. For the perfect girl she’d bared her soul for, the only person that made Red Grove bearable and sent a light towards a future that Samarie hadn’t even been able to imagine before Marina came to the duplex, Samarie would do anything.)

As Samarie practically melted in front of them, Levi gave his sister an openly judging look. Really, Marina? This was why Samarie wasn’t calming down after all this time.

Marina ignored her brother’s look, smiling wider, “Good~ Okay! Let’s go!” She said happily, clicking on her heels as she let Samarie’s chin free, heading down the passenger tunnel, “Time to go find out if we have a burnear or a mostly dead rabbit!”

-

Morning had come and it was fine, breakfast was about as raucous as it could be with five bodies to feed, which became seven once Aeleus and Axel stopped by, though Marluxia permitted the whole of their family in Dicea to stay in the apartment because the latecomers had brought food gifts. The rest of the day was fine, Lauriam tagged along on one of what he figured would be many shopping trips to fill the new house Even and Aeleus had all but gotten the keys for, giving tips to his siblings for what to keep in mind, even if his tips were pretty new. The evening was fine, Lauriam had managed to convince everyone that since he was fine before, he’d be fine in his apartment alone the next night, and he’d taken his pills with dinner and spent the rest of the daylight hours embroidering. 

The next morning was fine.

Until it wasn’t. 

-

{...}

{...La-La, what are you doing?}

The returning intent wasn’t very focused, though Marluxia got the gist of ‘listening’. Which he could gather, considering Lauriam was sitting against their front door with his ear pressed against the wood. Their breathing was slow and light, trying to be as quiet as possible as Lauriam strained to hear…

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? …but it wasn’t like Marluxia hadn’t seen this position before. 

{Lauriam}

{We’re not there}

{We don’t need to listen here, we can just--}

{Baby, get up, let’s take a walk}

Lauriam blinked for a moment before looking at the door, then slowly pushing himself up. It wasn’t really like shock. He knew he wasn’t there. He knew he was at home, his apartment in Usott, and he could just leave. 

There was no point in listening to the door, when he could open it whenever he wanted. 

Pulling his shoes on, Lauriam undid their locks and opened the door. Then closed it, and opened it again, taking a deeper breath as he did before stepping outside and locking the door behind him. And he started to walk. 

Walking outside. In the sun, surrounded by the plant beds all over the apartment compound and over the grass if he wanted, feeling the breeze… All things he could experience whenever he wanted, because he could open the door himself, and that was…fine. Something he could do whenever. 

He kept walking along the trails as he felt his eyes start to sting, filling with a few slow tears that rolled down his cheeks.

The gardens were managed by one specific person a year, but the gardening itself was assisted by a good number of volunteers. While some people just like that feeling of community and contributing, other volunteers were the rare example of a Dicean who didn’t actually have access to a garden to maintain themselves, living in one of the select few places in the city where it wasn’t accessible. Milo, who lived in the dense streets that surrounded the entrances to the “cages” in the Underground, didn’t have a window that could support a garden, or enough roof space to create his own, and there weren't street gardens he could claim a few feet for himself of.

But Milo was a Dicean through and through, and Diceans loved their plants. So in the spring, Milo eased some of that need in himself by volunteering to maintain the areas of the local gardens that didn’t get much rain just by the fact of how dense they were, coming in to water the shadowy areas so that the plants there grew strong as well.

This was why, despite the clear day, Milo walked around the forest in a light blue raincoat and rainboots, holding a large watering can as he made his rounds. He liked to stay dry during this project, and wearing the water protective clothing helped a great deal, as he hummed lightly, watering a rose bush planted beneath a massive tree…

(Milo preferred to think of his devotion–need–to care for plants a Dicean trait.)

(Because he was Dicean now, and he said so.)

He heard footsteps coming nearby, and he very carefully forced his back not to immediately curl, forced himself to look up and greet the upcoming presence with a warm, passive smile. He was afraid of no one. He was not in danger here. He did not need to make himself small, and so he wouldn’t. He was very happy to say hello, as he greeted the stranger, “Good day~ lovely weather, isn’t it… oh.”

Milo frowned, giving the sniffling stranger a newly concerned look, “Are you okay?”

The outside, to which Lauriam now belonged, was filled with people too. And not the same handful that had been his entire world for most of his life.

“Yeah, I - No,” Lauriam corrected, his voice soft but not threatening to break or warble. Swallowing, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his tears, though for as few there were, he wasn’t that determined to stem them all, and more just welled up. “Having a moment, sorry, I… I don’t want to alarm anyone.”

Lauriam gave the stranger in the raincoat a small nod as he tried to continue on his way. Because Lauriam could go anywhere.

Milo frowned, watching the stranger try to compose himself and head off, thinking of what he said… before he smiled at the stranger’s back.

“I’m not alarmed,” he called out gently, “But, I would like to help, if you wanted a listening ear? I’m just watering plants right now, it’d be easy to take a break. I’m not exactly on anyone’s stopwatch.” Milo laughed lightly, his voice soft and incredibly gentle. His entire body, everything about himself, was practically designed for an air of gentleness: white hair that curled in soft, puffy curls around him. Round eyes, red but muted, like a warm fall-ish auburn. Perfect round little freckles on soft, round skin, plush and comforting.

Milo knew he even smelled faintly like lavender, just from the oils in his body. He had been bred for comfort. He chose to consider it a strength.

{Dunno how much it’d help, but it might}

{Give the Raincloud a shot, La-La}

Slowing, Lauriam paused and looked back, swallowing down his impulse to call his whole deal stupid. His family hated it, he didn’t need to make a stranger echo empty words about it. 

“...I’m not sure how much sense it makes,” he chose to say instead, offering a soft, sweet little smile to thank the stranger for offering to listen, “Have you ever…had something so nice it hurts? Not like enjoying pain, but just something uncontestedly nice and it kind of feels horrendous for how nice it is.”

“Oh, um…” Milo paused, giving it some honest thought, as he adjusted his grip on his watering can… “Maybe? I think it might depend a bit on what you mean, but I’ve felt worse for having nice things, because…well,” Milo smiled, his eyes rounding upwards, “Because it meant I had things to lose. And that can be scary, sometimes… do you want to sit down somewhere? My watering can is heavy.”

Lauriam huffed a little. “I think I get that. Though, uh, y-yeah, sorry. I can carry it for a second if your arms are tired?”

As he looked around for a place to sit--he’d noticed benches all over the community garden over his many walks through it--Lauriam mulled over that point. “It’s not quite…fear, I think. It’s like - um, like if there were a lot of rules you always had to follow, that you hated. And one day you didn’t have to follow them anymore. But even though you hated them, and you’re happy to not follow them, it kind of…hurts, to do your own thing, even if it’s what you want, and you don’t want to follow those old rules still.”

“Oh? What a nice offer!” Milo beamed at Lauriam, puffing up a bit… before giving the can a wary look, “Just, be careful. It’s heavier than it looks. I have a lot of water in here, don’t be embarrassed if you can’t carry it.”

Milo carefully put the can down, stepping back and smiling warmly at Lauriam… though again, he gave Lauriam’s concern some thought, as he looked around and said, “There’s a bench around the corner, if you want to follow me… I don’t think it’s strange, to be upset at doing something new. That’s sort of what it sounds like. That you don’t like breaking routine, even if it’s bad routine?” Milo tried, glancing over at the man to see if he was anywhere close.

It was a big can, but Lauriam and Marluxia hefted their own to water their world all the time, how heavy could it b-- “H’OOUGH.”

{I know this really isn’t the time, but I’m gonna need to not be the only one of us working out, sweetpea, even if you like your twiggy arms}

Going more red in the face from tottering after Milo with the watering can than he had from crying, Lauriam didn’t dignify that with a response, just focusing on his breathing as he walked. Though, the whirling strain in his ears wasn’t so much he couldn’t hear Milo, and he gave a small grunt in response.

Milo gave a mildly concerned look back, but decided not to offer to take the can back. It’d hurt the other man's pride, for one, and two, it might make him feel a little better, doing a task for someone else. He used the same tactic on Kaiden all the time.

Besides, Milo didn’t have any real room to show off. All seedlings muscles were naturally reinforced and strengthened by the poppy seeds they were fed. Milo hadn’t needed to work for his strength, and even after years now of not taking any, the fact that he had been raised on it meant it’d likely be a long time still before he felt that strength wane. Only people whose bodies naturally resisted seedling influence would lose the effects sooner than that.

Milo’s body had been very receptive to it. But then, of course it would be. His family line had been carefully mixed to support that.

“Here it is.” Milo smiled, finding the bench and taking a seat, giving Lauriam a grateful smile, “Thank you for bringing it. It can wear you down after a while, that much water.”

With an embarrassingly loud breath, Lauriam set the watering can down next to Milo, having to take a second to let his arms hang as he breathed. Though, with a sheepish look, he joined the man on the bench. “Hahh, I bet. Trading multiple trips to refill for a strength workout with one that size, whooh…”

Taking another breath and swallowing, Lauriam considered Milo’s previous idea more. “...I’m not sure, to be honest. I definitely was in a set routine for a long time, but I never thought that I liked it, even in, um…having the comfort of something predictable, I guess. And I really am happy trying new things, even when they’re intimidating. It’s just…the fact that I can try new things still throws me for a loop, sometimes. The fact that I have a choice is…”

Lauriam’s eyes squinted a bit. “It’s a lot, sometimes.”

Milo shifted in his rain jacket, before realizing it might be nice to cool off a bit, since the ventilation inside of it wasn’t good for obvious reasons. Shifting within it, he pulled it over his head, sighing happily as his shoulders got some air, wearing a light cardigan that dipped around his shoulders and low over his chest. It was maybe too warm for such a thing, but the fabric was soft and thin, and it made Milo feel like he was wearing a nice blanket, which he enjoyed.

But, perhaps most notably with the removal of his rain jacket, was the ease in seeing around his neck now. The black cloth with the heavy buckle around it, decorated with a bow, not the top of a shirt, but actually a collar, as Milo laughed lightly, placing his fingertips to it, “Mmm… maybe I get that more than I thought, a moment ago. It can be nice, having the choice taken out of your hands… are you familiar with ‘scenes’ at all?”

Lauriam hadn’t paid all that mind to Milo’s appearance. The raincoat was strange, but made sense when he put it together with the watering can. He knew some people were born with white hair, and while the man had a pleasant enough face, Lauriam didn’t have too much to think about it. Milo just ‘A Guy’. 

But once he’d taken off his raincoat, Lauriam’s brain stalled for a moment as he blinked at the thing around Milo’s neck. 

…a collar. 

…Lauriam knew some people wore collars for fashion. It wasn’t even that strange in the type of fashion Marluxia liked, so he’d seen enough memories of the style to get an idea of it. 

It hadn’t even been an explicit conversation between them, that it wasn’t a style they’d pursue. The supervisors had had the muzzle from the very beginning, but they’d only bought the collar after Isa’s escape attempt. While it had been bought with him in mind, after they got Isa back, the supervisors hadn’t minded using it for other punishments. It wasn’t even that the collar was that degrading by itself, but, just…

Well, it hadn’t been in question to anyone who the Empaths had belonged to. And Lauriam and Marluxia would fight tooth and nail not to be owned by anyone again. 

“...not in context of a play, I’m guessing you mean?” Lauriam asked, a small bit of wariness edging into his voice.

Milo was mildly surprised. He had asked mostly out of courtesy. Most people had at least heard of them, in Dicea.

He supposed he did… maybe hear an accent? Milo didn’t have a good ear for such things. Perhaps Lauriam was just a Dicean who hadn’t met anyone with that particular lifestyle.

But, realizing he would need to explain, Milo smiled a touch more sheepishly, lightly embarrassed as his skin pinked slightly, “Maybe more like a play than you’d think. It’s like a specific type of improvisation, only you can, if you’d like to, roleplay it out into your life. It’s not real in any meaningful, literal way… but you take on a role, and embrace it. Sometimes all of the time.”

Milo paused, before laughing lightly, “Though, that makes it sound less specific than it actually is. The ‘scenes’ I mean are when you either act dominant towards someone, or submissive. How dominant or how submissive depends on the people involved, the context, but for me? Even just walking around like this, watering flowers, I enjoy wearing this. One of my partners, Leanne, gave this to me, as a way of ‘claiming’ me. I could take it off whenever I want, but I enjoy wearing it, because I enjoy the feeling of belonging to someone. It’s…comforting. It makes me feel cared about.”

“But, more specifically to what you’re talking about, I enjoy participating in ‘scenes’ where I give up control to someone completely.” Milo explained, “It’s very specific moments, with specific people, and I never really am entirely out of control… but I love feeling like I am, sometimes. Even if people who know me well have a hard time understanding why. I like being able to let go. Just be someone else's, for a while… does that make any sense to you?”

…oh. OH! Oh.

“Oh!” Lauriam gasped verbally that fourth time, eyes lighting up and widening into circles as he identified, “Like BDSM stuff!”

Realizing what he’d just called out into a public area, Marluxia snorting in amusement in his head, Lauriam pinked and coughed awkwardly into his hand, clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yeah. I’ve never really met anyone who takes that stuff out of the bedroom, but I’ve heard of it. You make it sound a lot sweeter than the propaganda I’ve heard.” He gave Milo a small, embarrassed smile. 

Wearing something to make you feel cared about? Always having the option to do what you wanted, break the ‘scene’, he guessed, just…allowing yourself to drift in an ocean of trust. None of that seemed like sullying Atua’s gift of love, not when it just sounded like love itself. 

“I don’t…think giving up control would feel comforting, even if having more of it is kinda scary,” Lauriam slowly worked out, “Even acting…”

As his voice trailed off, Lauriam sighed and looked away, shoulders tensing as he expected some kind of not-great response. “...I was sitting by my door this morning, listening through it. I used to do that a lot, from a room I wasn’t allowed to leave. Listening for danger.” Lauriam’s eyes lowered. “Hearing it coming never meant I could stop it, and sometimes having a few minutes to dread over what was coming was worse than just being surprised, but it just…felt like something I could have control over, in the smallest sense, and that meant everything when I had no control.”

Lauriam’s voice softened, a type of dread and shame coloring his tone. “But I don’t need to do that anymore. Danger isn’t coming, and if I want to know what’s going on beyond the door, I can just open it and leave. So…I did, when I realized what I was doing. Thought maybe a walk could help. But being able to go outside and…have a world beyond the door just…made me want to cry.”

Milo hummed, feeling out the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he considered that. “I’m assuming the sad kind of crying? You wouldn’t be confused if it was tears of joy.”

“Some of it’s happy, I think,” Lauriam said quietly. “I am happy. How life is now is better than anything I could’ve ever imagined. But some of it just hurts, even if it’s not bad.”

“That’s a bit tough to parse,” Milo smiled lightly, “But I still feel like I understand it a little. Maybe it’s just residual pain? You know something odd that always causes me pain? No matter the context, and it doesn’t feel ‘good’. Just painful… gratitude.”

Milo chuckled softly, staring at the flowers around them, “Real gratitude, I mean, not just someone playing lipservice because it’s polite. Maybe that’s another reason I enjoy my lifestyle. My partners, both romantically and otherwise, know how to make me feel appreciated without showing gratitude. Reassurance through meeting clear expectations. But every now and again I’ll be helpful to someone, doing something small that I barely even think about, and they’ll be genuinely grateful for it. Thanking me in a way that shows they really hadn’t expected it from me. And when that happens? I get… so sad. I feel it in my throat, this ball the immediately wells up,” Milo explained, placing his hands on his collar, “And if I had to explain why? I think it’s because I got so used to the idea that gratitude wasn’t something that I could have, that getting it? Makes me so upset, how often I didn’t have it. It reminds me of what I went without for so long. It hurts, to be reminded.”

Lauriam glanced back at Milo, a small smile on his lips. “That’s a tough one. A pre-emptive apology, then, if I try to thank you for talking with me later.”

He let out a breath. “...that kinda sounds like how I’m feeling, though. Residual pain…” It would make sense. It hurt to open the door, because for so long Lauriam couldn’t. Even when he could, physically, picking the lock and sneaking out, he still hadn’t been able to get past the reinforced doors at the end of the hallway, and it had always been a massive risk to walk around where the supervisors were. It hadn’t been freedom at all. 

Having it now just hit the wound that was created by not having it. 

Lauriam lightly fussed with his fingers, blushing slightly. “...um. No obligation, of course, but if you are in a sort of BDSM-ish relationship, could I…ask you about that?”

Milo nodded sadly. Yeah, residual pain. Some of it went away with time, and… others he hoped would go away with more time…

But hadn’t yet.

Though, asking about something Milo took joy in lit him up, laughing sweetly as he explained, “More than ‘sort of’, very much so. Not just that, but my main job is working as a bartender in a BDSM dungeon. It’s a pretty big part of my life, so ask away.”

He could feel Marluxia’s intrigue, and Lauriam did have some genuine questions, but as Milo gave off his credentials, Lauriam looked at him with wide, stunned eyes again, before he blurted, “There’s a bar in your dungeon?!”

Milo startled… before grinning at Lauriam, a bit amused as he asked, “Yes? But the way you asked that makes me feel like I should stress a ‘BDSM’ dungeon. Which is, at its very core, just a kinky sex place. In case you were imagining something else.” He giggled.

“No, I--” Lauriam flushed more, clearing his throat, “I know that BDSM dungeons aren’t like real dungeons. Places for specifically that kink. I guess I never imagined them having more amenities, though. More exciting hearing about priestesses clearing out chains and gags than talking about what sorts of drinks are available, I guess.”

“...um.” He took a breath, trying to sort his thoughts. “A big part of doing all that in a non-awful way, in a relationship, is, like, having negotiations, right? How…would you approach that, if someone’s really nervous about it?”

Priestesses…? “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were Luminous until just now.” Milo admitted, eyebrows raised a bit, “At least, I’m assuming so. Sorry if it’s the wrong guess, you just don’t hear about ‘priestesses’ very often otherwise.”

Though, Milo smiled lightly, “Nervous about it? Nervous how? Scared or guilty?” he asked, though he admitted, “Unless ‘someone’ is you. I’ll admit, I have a hard time imagining being the person nervous to talk about it. It’s maybe a little odd, but sometimes I have more fun talking out what’s going to happen then I even do playing it out. I love the discussion, miss-steps and all.”

“If you mean scared… my partner Kaiden was pretty scared, the first few times he tried it. Both ends of it. It unnerved him so much that I kept telling him he didn’t have to. That it was a part of my life he didn’t have to participate in, that I loved him anyway,” Milo recalled, “But Kaiden would randomly really want to try again, and I realized after a while it wasn’t just to appease me, but out of genuine interest. He wanted to enjoy the things I did. But it scared him to try, so he kept having to take long breaks between attempts. Once I realized he wanted to do it? It was simpler. I’d bring it up every now and again, and if he didn’t shy away, we’d try something new. Never a lot at once, but I know it helped him for me to be the one to bring it up sometimes, since he was too nervous too.”

“If it’s guilt? My partner Leanne,” Milo said immediately, absolutely certain, “She had this idea stuck in her head that, even if I was having a great time? And it was obvious, no doubts? There was still something wrong with her if she enjoyed it. Like we were playing by different rules. I hated that. I didn’t want her to do things just to make me happy, I wanted her to have fun too. It takes a lot of reassurances from me to get her to let herself enjoy hurting me. She’s honestly more work to keep assured than Kaiden is. She puts a lot of weight on her shoulders, being our protectors. She holds herself to higher standards.”

Lauriam blinked before laughing softly. “That’d be some helpful context, huh? Yes, you’re right. Moved to town kind of recently.”

Lauriam smiled softly as he listened to Milo take some examples from his own partners. They were genuinely helpful examples--the thing about bringing it up with no expectations and trying one thing at a time seemed like really good advice--but also, Lauriam just felt a little more confident, hearing about other people working through even tangentially similar things in their relationships. 

Not even unique in that way, though Lauriam had an easier time feeling comforted by it in this case. 

“It’s guilt,” Lauriam confirmed, smiling softly. “For even more context, BDSM and sado-maso stuff is really looked down on in Luminary. The temples crusade against it, dungeons are against the law, if your school’s sex ed is run by the temples, then you grow up hearing how that stuff is one of the most disgusting things you can do with worship. …my boyfriend, Dilan, is really religious.”

Lauriam looked ahead into the plants in front of them. “But the thing is…he really likes feeling guilty. And that just makes him feel guiltier, so it feeds back into itself, until he’s super flustered but also feeling like garbage. If it was just that he was uncomfortable with stuff, I wouldn’t bring it up, but…I think he does like it. But even more than that, I just hate seeing him start to…hate himself for enjoying what I see are totally harmless things. And because he self-guards it, it can make him really unkind to people who don’t have the same hangups.”

“...I’m not really sure what to do,” Lauriam admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “Or even if it’s up to me to do anything at all. But along with trying out something I want anyway, I think it might be a weight off him if he enjoys something he’d feel guilty about and just…lets himself.”

“Oh,” Milo nodded, unsurprised as he said, “Sounds like your boyfriend is a moral masochist.”

“They can be tricky,” Milo agreed, leaning back into the bench as he sighed happily, “But if you find one that has it figured out? They can be a lot of fun. They like feeling bad, they enjoy being scolded, punished. They enjoy the excitement of guilt. They tend to become bratty subs, constantly trying to irritate their dom so they can feel the thrill of being yelled at.”

“Buuuut, you’re right, it’s hard to find one that’s done the emotional work of doing that safely, while not having stepped past that line to being someone who really should feel guilty…” Milo said, voice casual and certain. Just drawing from life, as he sighed, “...the religious part does make it more difficult. It’s hard to reassure someone something is fine when part of their identity is faith. It can make it feel like not choosing to believe in one aspect of your faith destroys your whole concept of identity then. If you don’t believe everything, do you really believe anything, sort of thing… that said?”

Milo smiled warmly at Lauriam, “I really believe a sincere attempt at having fun with someone can get through almost any barrier. We’re more forgiving to mistakes that happen during play. We experiment more. We take risks. And it’s easier to brush off the parts that were hard, because, well… we were just playing. Hurt feelings and scaped knees, boundaries pushed or outbursts, are normal parts of playing. You learn new ways to have fun. So long as you really, actually enjoy who you’re having fun with. So… this might seem counterintuitive, because it sounds like it's something he does struggle with. But approaching it as something playful might do loads more than every serious discussion of safe words and written contracts over who’s allowed to do what ever could. You’ll learn more about them, and yourself, faster just messing around, then you would reading about BDSM terms out of a how-to book. Discussions like that help refine things you figured out otherwise. It’s about finding them out first.”

…moral masochism?

{Oh he’s gonna hate hearing that term, pfffff~}

“Play, huh? I think I can work with that,” Lauriam chuckled softly. “It feels like we’ve worked so much on careful, serious conversations that it’ll feel a bit like whiplash, but we won’t know what’ll come of it until trying.”

“Tha - uh,” Lauriam paused, catching himself, “I guess you’ve stopped me from destroying the garden with a type of watering that wouldn’t do them any favors…oh, I never asked your name, huh? I’m Lauriam.”

“Milo,” Milo smiled, giving Lauriam a warm look, “Nice to meet you, Lauriam. And it’s my pleasure. Being a bartender the last few years has made me the nosy, curious type. It helps to find out most people do want to talk about things, if you’re willing to ask. And I like asking.”

Milo stretched, “And it was a nice break. Maybe you already know this, but if you ever wanted to, anyone can volunteer for gardening around here. I find it soothing, if you ever wanted an outlet.”

“Reminds me of something someone’s said to me before,” Lauriam hummed with soft amusement. Even if Luis had never been officially employed as a bartender, maybe all you needed were the right vibes to count. 

Looking around the garden, Lauriam regarded the plants fondly. “I might just do that. It feels almost a little stereotypical by this point, but I find caring for plants relaxing too, so…maybe I’ll see you around the garden again, Milo. I hope the rest of your watering goes well.” He smirked a little. “At least it’ll get lighter.”

“That does make watering more of them more rewarding,” Milo laughed, standing up and, because he knew enough about Luminary to know it was polite, bowing lightly before picking up the watering can. Waddling off.

-

Ienzo had to say that training Ventus was going remarkably well. Yes, he had helped the teens come into their own with Empathy, but considering that Riku had learned a lot from Viz, and Zyvix had always been happy to give demonstrations, not to mention the help Aqua and Terra provided, and of course Even and Vexen were always resources for anything Empathy-related…

It wasn’t that Ienzo was the only person training Ventus right now, but they certainly had more one-on-ones when it came to learning than anyone else, and Ienzo was simply pleased that it was going well. 

“--other than just facilitating my desire for books, it was something of a necessity for my mental well-being,” Ienzo continued to explain about his process of making books for the library, and more broadly, creating figments of foreign information, “Looking into someone’s surface thoughts, or having their emotions brush up against your awareness, to my estimation, carries about the same cognitive load as having a deep, considerate conversation with someone, at most. There’s some focus involved, but it’s easily conceivable. Rooting through and absorbing entire sections of someone’s knowledge or memory is much more.”

Ienzo smirked lightly. “To put it into more physical perspective, it would be the difference between asking you to pick up a picture book, and asking the same for a filled bookshelf. The bookshelf is a lot to ask, and in certain cases, extremely dangerous to attempt, so by utilizing a figment, I’m not actually consciously aware of the information I’m absorbing, though it is still becoming information in my mind all the same. My process allows it to happen in the ‘background’, so to speak, so I’m not subject to that cognitive strain, and can instead consciously take it in at a later date, slowly enough that I don’t overload my mind. Does that make sense, Ventus?”

“I think so…” Ventus said, looking curiously at the spines of the books, “I think I’m just having a tough time grasping how much could possibly be in any of these. I mean, there’s no way you have someone’s entire set of memories in any particular book, right? That feels like you’d have to be insanely powerful.”

Ienzo’s shoulders raised in a silent laugh. “I mean, I have mine, but you’re correct. I have chunks of others’ memories in multiple books, though I don’t really know if that’s more due to my desire for organization by subject, or just the amount of information I can store in a given figment. And, for the most part, most of the library’s collection is the memories of literal novels and stories, which in comparison are a small percentage of any person’s memory. To create books of someone’s entire life, I’d have to spend a lot of time with them, and then only if they allowed me, or were otherwise mentally impaired.”

Ienzo gave Ventus a small smile. “Unlike you, my psychic abilities aren’t strong enough to go beyond someone’s surface thoughts at my command, or even subconsciously. That was a great benefit the island gives me, since those connected to it have already had their mental doors opened, so to speak. Otherwise I can only play with the shadows peeking through the doorjamb, in usual circumstances.”

Ventus gave Ienzo a startled look at that, before giving the books a newly critical look… mostly so that Ienzo wouldn’t see the small flush on his face. Unlike him, huh…

Ventus didn’t feel powerful. He knew, objectively, technically, he… was? But only because every time one of the others tried to teach him how to do something, they found that he could. Which was apparently not a universal empath experience. The others couldn’t step into people’s minds at their own will, something Ventus found he could do, but was still pretty uncomfortable trying more. When it came to navigating the others minds, he had assumed being able to feel the walls and borders of their mental landscape was something any of them could do, only for Even to have him make a literal map of Even’s mind on paper to compare to others, and finding out Ventus had a surprisingly easy time of it. 

He had, if what the others suspected could be believed, stolen memories from them for basically most of his life, seeing them in dreams.

….he may have accidentally created his own Nobody, and left him with Sora. 

No one had ‘proven’ that yet, but it was hard to argue, especially when Ventus and Roxas were standing next to each other. An argument had been made that perhaps Sora had simply ‘seen’ Ventus at some point and copied his image, but that didn’t hold up when one considered Xion’s existence. Sora hadn’t set out to make two Nobodies when he had first made them. But still no one knew how Roxas had shown up when Sora was still building up the energy to make Xion. A mystery.

All that said? It was had to think of himself as powerful, when Ventus still felt so new and amateur to the whole thing. He had no idea really what he could or couldn’t do. Could he make books out of other peoples knowledge? It seemed too intimidating to even try, but here he was, in a literal labyrinth of a library, full of just that, and the creator of that library was calling him powerful.

It was hard to conceptualize. 

“...can I try reading one?” Ventus asked. 

“Of course,” Ienzo nodded, nothing about him physically changing, but a sense of light happiness coming from him at the question, “My library is open for all the island residents to peruse to their liking, and more recently, for all the island guests as well. The issue with taking books back to your own mind is more of a logistical one than any sort of rule I’ve made.”

Giving Ventus an eager look, Ienzo asked, “What sort of books do you like to read? I believe I have just about any genre you could think of.”

“Um… I like…” Ventus tilted his head, “...funny things? Do you have a funny book section?”

“Hmmm,” Ienzo thought, looking over the shelves, “I do have some joke books, but I’m not sure that’s exactly what you mean. Oh! Have you read any books by Sir Pratchett?”

There was a distant sound of wheels, before Zexion riding his book cart came skidding around the corner, slowing to a stop as he neared them. Hopping off, Zexion held a book up to Ventus. 

ㅍںㅍ Much of his work is fantasy, but the writing style has a levity to it that often reads funny, on top of the intentional jokes. He’s made a popular series called Discworld that had a new entry about two years ago, so there’ve been rumors a new one is coming soon.

Ienzo smiled softly. A bit tired. “They’re enjoyable for all ages, but I did notice quite a few kids enjoying them over the years. That’s a great recommendation, Zexion.”

“Oh, no, I’ve never heard of it. Thank you.” Ventus said, taking the book from the chibi and bowing to him, before looking curiously at the cover. He opened it up, wanting to take a quick peek at–

Ventus looked up, like he had heard something, though he wasn’t sure from where. Saying with absolute certainty, “Someone else is in your world.”

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it could be a bit awkward to have someone expectantly watching you while you read, so Ienzo turned his attention back to the bookshelf in front of them, refreshing himself on some titles. Though, at Ventus’ alert, Ienzo perked in surprise before sharing a look with the equally surprised Zexion. 

While it wasn’t something they always addressed, considering that people sometimes came by to take out books or have a quiet moment to read, they did usually notice when someone else was in their world. After a moment they did recognize the signature, but…wow. That Ventus could clock it from the first moment available…

Sometimes Ienzo did feel a bit out of his depth, trying to be a good teacher for Ventus. However, the newcomer likely understood the extent of power more. 

“HEY LUIS!” Ienzo called over the bookcases, not thinking anything of the usual way he and all the Zexions had talked through the library for over a decade. “WE’RE HERE WITH VENTUS, IF YOU WANT TO SAY HI!”

“...?” 

Ventus felt the tired confusion coming off the new person. He–Luis–clearly hadn’t been expecting to be noticed. Ventus noticed that whatever energy he felt coming off the empath, Luis had more of it. Ventus didn’t know how to explain it, other than feeling heat coming off a fireplace that someone had hidden behind a blanket.

Rather then answering, Luis seemed to get up and shuffle around the bookcases. Going down the various pathways, until finally a tired blond–Oh! Luis! Ventus knew him–man peeked around the corner, blearily looking at the three. “...Ienzo, lad, do you have to shout? Can feel you ringing in my ears.”

Ventus bowed respectfully, “Hello, Luis. I haven’t seen you in a while. I…” probably shouldn’t mention ‘I heard you were locked up in a hospital’, “hope things are well?”

“You don’t have to speak so formally. Or just the effect of being in ‘student mode’?” Luis smiled lightly, “What are you all learning today?”

Back on his book cart, Zexion gave Luis a wave, while Ienzo gave Luis an apologetic look. “Sorry, habit.”

He probably should’ve thought about it more. While the stage of withdrawal Luis was in wasn’t quite the same as the hangovers he was more familiar with, being around shouting likely couldn’t help. 

Though as Luis asked about their lesson, Ienzo perked back up. “We’re going over the process of capturing foreign knowledge into a figment. I figured that I have a rather robust example in my library, so it seemed like a good place for discussion.”

ㅍ_ㅍ Did you come by for a specific book, Uncle Luis? I can find it for you, if you’d like.

“No, appreciate ya Zexion,” Luis smiled a touch sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Actually, I came in here cause it’s pretty quiet these days? I’m having a sorta tough time staying asleep. I keep phasing in and out of my world, and you know how that place is… once I’ve phased from real sleep to my world for even a second, bam, my brain’s all woken up and listening to slot machines spin on their own.”

Ventus frowned, “Why not just change your world? Can’t you?”

“Um… that’s a bit of a tricky question,” Luis admitted, rubbing his eyes, “The correct answer is we can. The real answer is that it’s hard. Little changes are fine, but restructuring from the ground up? Man, ya’ll dad explained it to me at one point, not sure how to… it’s like trying to change personality traits you have? Your habits and such?” Luis said, waving his hand vaguely, “In theory, that’s easy, just do different things. In practice? That’s a process that takes months of dedicated and difficult effort. I can make my world have different colors or different games, different creepy mannequin robots, the likes, but changing that it’s a casino? That’s a lot. I wouldn’t know how to begin.”

“You’ll see when you get your own world.” Luis said idly, not noticing Ventus’ eyebrows raise at that.

Ienzo’s shoulders fell slightly at the mention of the library being quiet though he gave Luis a concerned look as he explained the reason for his visit. “I see… Well, my initial call aside, I don’t think we’ll be that loud, so I hope you find some comfort.” Though, already he was idly considering a method of ‘muffling’ the high-energy excitement and sounds of the casino. He was always happy for his library to be a comforting place for others, but your own world was home, first and foremost. 

Because it was you.

While Luis didn’t notice Ventus’ eyebrows, Ienzo did, and he smiled lightly. “While it’s something the rest of us have less experience with, it turns out that the natural development of Empaths working on their abilities and own minds tend to result in a world. Less explicit than the ones you’ve visited on the island, but I have a theory that, in spending dedicated time in one’s own mind, it tends to default into a shape and setting that, in various ways, represents yourself. A place of comfort, or what you might consider a ‘home base’ before doing other things. While other Empaths don’t label them as such, we recognize that phenomena as their worlds.”

…and, of course, if Ventus ever decided that he wanted to join the island, then he would make their more explicit kind of world. But that was his choice, and wasn’t part and parcel with deciding to leave Luminary with them.

“My own world…” Ventus murmured, still a bit dazzled at that idea… before he frowned, “But I’ve been in my own memories. It’s just that. Memories.”

“You have to think of your brain as something with layers. Or maybe as like a really big house, or a town,” Luis explained, “When you land in your own mind? You’re in a real, physical part of it. At least, I think that’s how it works. Your brain is a real, meaty, physical object, and all the parts of it that make us, us? Are stuffed into different areas of it.” Luis explained, reaching over and poking the front of Ventus’ forehead, who flinched slightly at the contact, “So this bit of your brain maybe has just memories, or you can go up here and,” Luis traced his finger around Ventus’ head, tapping his temple, Ventus flinching slightly less that time, “you’ll end up in some weird, like, metaphorical place that represents your fears or something. Or you can take a leap up here.” Luis tapped at the very top of Ventus’ head, who now look a little amused at the taps, “And there’s probably your world! Which is a metaphorical, symbolic place for, like… I dunno, really. You, summarized?”

“Is that actually where it is?” Ventus asked, reaching up to touch the very top of his head.

“No, I picked spots at random,” Luis admitted with a shrug, “I’m not the smartest guy around. That’s Ienzo and Zexion, actually. I’m just remembering things them and their dad have taught me over the years. They’re great teachers, you can really learn a lot from them.”

“I know, I already have been,” Ventus agreed, though he peered more curiously at Luis, “You’re maybe not smart–”

“Well, okay, it’s a little rude when you say it.”

“--but I’ve heard you’re powerful? Maybe the most powerful of the group… is that true? Kairi and Namine sound more powerful, based on everything I’ve heard them do.” Ventus said.

“Those two lasses are powerful as all the hells you can imagine,” Luis agreed, nodding his head somberly… before shifting uncomfortably, “Though, more in terms of not just raw strength, but what they’ve learned to do with that strength, I think. I’m more… untrained and clumsy. I was a real bastard who used my raw potential freely and for fun, growing up, and when that inevitably backfired on me? I’ve spent the last who knows how long dampening it. So, yeah, I might be the most powerful, but I still can’t do what you kids all do, or will be able to do, with the way you got it refined.”

Ventus tilted his head. Backfired?

It was an excellent demonstration for conceptualizing that one’s brain wasn’t just a single place…but Ienzo could hardly contain himself, and he opened his mouth to--

Oh. 

Flushing a bit as Luis called him and Zexion the ‘smartest around’, Ienzo more awkwardly mumbled, “...well, if you wanted to know the neurological areas, different types of memories are stored in multiple places around the brain but commonly cited as relating to the hippocampus which are in the temporal lobes right over your cerebellum, fears are centered in the amygdala which are behind your ears, and what contributes to ego is a hotly debated topic and can range from including the entire brain, to just the frontal lobe, to a spiritual aspect that doesn’t have a physical location at all.”

ㅍ_ㅍ That’s generally what we mean when we talk about your strength, Ventus. A mid-range Empath who is practiced and familiar with their abilities can be considered ‘stronger’ or at least more adept than someone with raw power but little control or understanding of themself. You, and Luis too, have a lot of raw strength, though regarding our lessons, the goal is to help you refine it into honed strength.

ó_ò Not exactly just for the sake of strength, though. 

Nodding, Ienzo gave Luis a softer look before trying to explain, “It’s like with any other type of strength or proficiency. As much as you might be able to do great things, if unrefined, it has the potential to cause yourself and others pain or harm. You can have the sharpest knife in the world, but it doesn’t do you much good if you don’t know the proper way to hold the handle.”

“It’s a good way of putting it, yeah,” Luis agreed, while Ventus looked a little dazed still from the more in-depth explanation of the brain’s physicality, “Empathy can be a weapon, if you want it to be. But it can also be a weapon if you don’t consciously want it to be, but your desires or carelessness gets away from you. Ventus, did you ever find yourself with people just… randomly doing things for you? Agreeing with you?”

“...no?” Ventus said sincerely, brow furrowed, “Not really?”

“Oh…” Luis shuffled uncomfortably, “...well, maybe it’s also just partly personality. When I was growing up, I was easily popular, which made people call me ‘charming’, easily adapted in class for lessons, which made people call me ‘smart’, and things just had a way of working out for me, and so everyone called me ‘lucky’. A golden boy in every sense of the word.” Luis sighed, rolling his eyes, “But I wasn’t really any of those things. I was psychic. Empathic. I said what I knew people wanted to hear, stole answers out of people's minds, compelled others to make choices that benefited me. Sometimes, when it was really bad? I didn’t even have to do anything physical at all. I didn’t have to make jokes that made people laugh, I just put it into people’s minds that they thought I was funny. I didn’t have to work hard, people just had the impression I was a hard worker. I didn’t need to flirt… people just found me attractive.” 

Luis muttered that last part, crossing his arms and looking away, clearly ashamed… “That was my empath abilities, manipulating the people around me. Sometimes it was conscious, sometimes it wasn’t. But it was all second-nature to me. Did you have anything like that?”

Ventus frowned again, trying to think… before he said slowly, “...my parents have picked me to be the next heir over all of my cousins and siblings. Everyone else is older then me, more experienced. I thought it was because everyone else had more chances to mess up. Did their coming of age quests badly, upset father. That I was picked because I hadn’t had a chance to mess up yet…”

“And now,” Ventus said, looking worriedly at the ground, “...the queen talks like she expects me to be part of the court someday. I don’t know why. She says I could do a lot of good for our kingdom with my empath abilities, that it would be a major advantage in negotiations, that I could really help our people. But she talks like I’m going to be doing what she does someday, and… she doesn’t have an heir…”

“...I keep wondering why she finds me so impressive.” Ventus murmured.

Ienzo had heard a truncated version of the story with Anabelle, but for years and years Luis never really talked about his Empathy in conjunction with his past. And looking between Luis and Ventus as they spoke about the ‘shortcut’ Empathy could give…

“...while that influence is something important to be aware of, I think it’s equally important at this time to bring up that even if you purposefully use Empathy to put yourself in good graces, it does not mean that every moment of social good fortune was manipulated to be so,” Ienzo said, a slight frown and drawing in of his brows really bringing home that he meant important. “As powerful as you are, Uncle Luis, extrapolating your peak still doesn’t come close to the stamina needed to ensure every person you came across liked you, and while I’m aware this isn’t much of a reassurance, Ventus, the two examples you gave are people who know in certainty you are an Empath.”

His jaw tensing, Ienzo’s Lexicon appeared in his arms and he held it tight against his chest. “They are also all people who were well aware of the former Head Secretary, and aware enough of the things he could do, but not of the actual mechanics of Empathy. Kaede, as a more pointed example: She knew that Tengan was the actual person running Luminary for decades, and while she likely doesn’t know how, she knows that his Empathy allowed him to take massive amounts of power and influence. She does not have an heir, so to kill two birds with one stone, in you she could have a protege while ensuring the loyalty of a known Empath, preventing the loss of control her uncle forwent with Tengan before.”

“Maybe you have been influencing some of her perception of you, but she absolutely has her own reasons to have her eye on you,” Ienzo grumbled.

“...I guess Queen Kaede’s actually told me something similar. I mean, I know she wants me for my Empath abilities, and that the Head Secretary used to be an Empath. She said if Tengan had an ounce of compassion in him, a lot of things could have been different…”

Luis looked between Ventus and Ienzo. Ventus’ almost guilty concern, Ienzo’s obvious frustration… and crossing his arms, Luis resisted the urge to vomit as he straightened his back a bit and said, sternly, but not unkindly, “You know, Ventus, not to make things more confusing for you… but our group has our own biases.”

“Huh?” Ventus asked, looking to Luis.

“Look, it’s no secret we want you to come back with us to Dicea, yeah?” Luis smiled lightly as Ventus hesitated before shaking his head, “Yeah, I know. We came to the capital to find you, specifically. Ienzo’s nobility, Ex-Indentured politics, my stuff I’ve got going on… that’s all secondary to what we really want. Which is our youngest back. You and your mom reunited.”

“I know that.” Ventus said softly. 

“Honestly, we lucked out that you don’t have exactly the best relationship with your adopted folks. It’s sort of terrible to say it, but even you losing your brother seems to be a bit of fortune in our favor, because it sounds like he really loved you, and that would have been a reason for you to stay that we would have just had to accept and move on from,” Luis said, “And everything you’ve learned about that incident? From what I hear in the grapevine? You’re this close to getting all of that figured out. Because you’re smart and resourceful, and yeah, probably a little ‘lucky’. That’s good. I know any of us would be happy for you, to get closure on that.”

Ventus nodded again. He was getting closer. Talking to the girls had led him to Monomi. Once she gave him a location, she had promised to sit down with him and explain everything. 

“But then there’s the queen, and… I know the others don’t like to hear this. I’m sure some of us don’t even like to think it,” Luis said, glancing at Ienzo, “...but I don’t think she’s a bad person. She might even be a good queen. And yeah, she wants you because you’re a powerful empath, there’s no mistaking that. She grew up watching how Kazuo–”

“Who?” Ventus asked.

Luis flinched, catching himself, “Head Secretary Tengan. She grew up watching how the head secretary effectively rules, effectively got his way, all the benefits of his abilities. And considering that’s how she watched leadership work? I don’t think it’s a nefarious scheme, for her to try to recreate that, but want it to be ‘better’. A better empath with a better ruler, leading the kingdom to better times. There isn’t anything inherently bad, about what she wants from you. If she turned you into an heir? I bet you’d be amazing.”

Ventus’s expression strained. Luis’ words, kind and encouraging though they were, clearly filling the boy with a sense of panic as he whispered, “I… maybe, but…”

“Our problem is that we want you to come home with us, to be a kid, and that’s our issue with it,” Luis said, reaching to put a hand on Ventus’ shoulder, kneeling down to be more at height with him, smiling warmly, “But yours? Call it mind reading, from one empath to another, but… I don’t think you want to be king. Just truly and honestly. You don’t strike me as someone jumping at the bit to lead. Not your family, the Shards. Not the kingdom… and I bet you anything Queen Kaede can’t even conceive of that. She’s been around too many people where wanting to rule was the default. I don’t think it’d ever occur to her to ask you to do it. I think she’d ‘bestow’ it upon you as a gift. And wouldn’t even consider the idea that it’s something you’re being forced into, not ecstatic for.”

“...” Ventus’ eyes shimmered, shaking a little… before he nodded. Looking down at staring at the floor, “...I don’t know what to do… she doesn’t listen…”

“...why don’t you let us talk to her? Let the adults in your life do some adult stuff.” Luis smiled… before burbing. Putting his hand over his mouth and groaning, “Oh, I’m gonna vomit… m-maybe your mom, uh, A-aqua can–urp.”

Ienzo looked to the side, holding his Lexicon tightly. Kaede really wasn’t the worst person in the world. Like he told her to her face, he had no reason to enact revenge upon her, as the person that put into legal and actionable motion his freedom, and from the bits and pieces that he got from her otherwise, it did seem like she genuinely wanted a better future for their country, whether people hated or loved her for it. That was respectable. 

He wasn’t above, however, the biases Maki and Kokichi had against her coloring his own perception, nor how closely the way she at times spoke of and to Ventus reminding him too much of Tengan. Too much talk of ‘potential’ and ‘molding that potential’. It was one thing to give someone an opportunity for greatness, it was another to thrust it upon them and force them to adapt to it. 

Holding out his hands, Zexion summoned a trash bin and hopped down from his book cart, offering it to Luis, before his gaze slid over to Ventus.

ㅍ_ㅍ Your future is yours to choose, but that doesn’t mean you have to forge it yourself, or go it alone. If you’d like us to talk to the queen, that is absolutely something we can arrange.

ㅍ_ㅍ And your mother is a very convincing woman. I’d trust her any day of the week to cut through the queen’s bubble and make her words heard.

“‘M good… ‘m good…. No I’m not, I’ll be back.” Luis said queasily, disappearing and waking up in the real world to vomit.

Ventus gave the spot Luis had been a slightly pitying look–that sucked–before looking back to Zexion. “...do you really think it’d be alright for me to ask her to? I’m a man now, I should be able to fight my own battles…”

Zexion and Ienzo shared a look before adding a mutual smirk to the mix. 

ㅍںㅍ Ventus, if I went up to Aunt Aqua and said I didn’t need her help because I’m a man, she’d kick my ass so hard I’d start projecting spirals before telling me that you never stop relying on people in life.

Ienzo nodded. “Life is communal, no matter what you do or where you end up. Of course, it’s a kind courtesy to think about those you may affect while you choose your battles, but community means that you are never fighting them alone. If someone cares about you, then they care about your struggles, as you would care about theirs in turn.”

ㅍ3ㅍ =3 Maybe it’s just an ‘Aqua’s child’ thing to try and be stupidly independent at some point in your life. We certainly have the data points to back it up.

“It’s such a strange correlation, isn’t it?” Ienzo mused, tapping his chin, “Considering Aunt Aqua utilizes her own community remarkably well. Perhaps it’s a case of incidental rebellion? Not wanting to be like your parents through the identity-forming years.”

Ventus blinked… “But I’m not the rebellious type. I try really hard!” He fretted a bit, looking shame-faced at merely the idea that perhaps he was a ‘problem child’. “I do my quests, I practice my empath abilities… I even kept this.” Ventus said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a green star trinket, looking at it softly, “...I really want to be someone my family is proud of. That they can rely on. I know I was raised to be that way, but… it’s still important to me.”

Clutching the star, he frowned at it. Community, huh…

“...but Queen Kaede is very scary and so is Aqua, kinda.” Ventus admitted, “So yeah, I should ask her for help. I still don’t know how I’m going to talk to my parents. I’ll still tell them what I find out about Saber. His death hurt them too. My father hasn’t been the same since he died.” Ventus frowned, looking away. He had been surprised, to realize his father was grieving his brother, as subtle as that grieving was. His father valued detachment and cold cruelty, and Ventus hadn’t been sure if his father was attached to anything, let alone could love someone… but apparently he had, at least somewhat. “They deserve to know what happened to their eldest son… but after that? Luis is right, I don’t really want to be the head of the family. I don’t want to be a king, or a head secretary… I don’t know what I want.”

But that wasn’t true.

“...I want to know Aqua better.” He said, “I have a chance to know who my birth parents were. Are. So I want the chance to really get to know her. And my…” Ventus squinted, titling his head, “...steeeep-dad?”

Ienzo smiled with slight amusement. “That’s what I mean by ‘incidental rebellion’. You’ve just confirmed it, but you don’t strike me as the type to fight against the expectations put upon you. I believe it is a true joy, though, that most people can’t help but be themselves, even when they try their hardest not to be. Wanting to be someone your family is proud of is not at odds with any of that, in my opinion.”

ㅍ_ㅍ You should try being a massive weirdo sometime, it’s an enlightening experience.

His eyes softening a bit as Ventus talked about what he wanted, Ienzo put a soft hand on Ventus’ back. “What Luis said before was true, my case at the castle is more or less just something we pursued to get the chance to talk to you,” Ienzo’s eyes flitted down briefly, “but while I don’t want to be a lord any more than it sounds you want to be a king, I do care about revealing the truth of my birth parents’ deaths. It’s not quite the same thing--you’ll be providing closure to your family, and while how that will tie into their experience with grief is personal to them, there’s an emotional side to it, which my case lacks, as I already know what happened. But I think there’s a lot of worth in the truth coming to light. And I think it says a lot of good things about you, that you want to pass on that truth, to whom it matters most.”

That all said, Ienzo hummed consideringly. “...I’m not sure that’s inaccurate. Considering Aqua and Terra weren’t legally married, there’s little merit in debating if she could get legally remarried to someone born from her consciousness.” He smiled lazily. “Please try calling him that next time we’re together. I absolutely want to note his reaction.”

Ventus nodded solemnly. For Science. 

-

One would think, with his best friend being in part as much an embodiment of music as music was an embodiment of ego, Doppio would be much more into music. He still enjoyed it, he loved hearing whatever new song was in Amaina’s--and thus likely others’--head, Dante was a great musician and it was nice coming back from a blackout to a gentle tune, he had pretty much gotten over feeling sheepish when he was humming while cooking or cleaning and Lazaro would join in louder, encouraging him. But it was still something Doppio didn’t think about seeking out that often. 

That said, there had been posters and gossip about the Battle of the Bands for months, and a place where people came together to show off their new music was something he knew Amaina wouldn’t want to miss, even if she had her pick of the pile of people to experience it through. 

So having claimed a great spot in the park to hear the pavilion stage well, Doppio was in heaven petting Chief, Akamaru, and Akemaru as sound check finished and a teenage girl yelled out to the crowd, “WE ARE CANTRIP, 1-2-3-4!!!”

And music started to play.

                                      ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ )         \m/...(>.<)…\m/         (ง •̀_•́)ง‼

On the dogs, each chibi occupying a dog's head, were Amaina and, after a lot of very obnoxious begging and pleading from Amaina herself to Kokichi, Chibi Kokichi and Chibi Kaito, all already rocking out to the music. Chibi Kokichi swaying happily and hopping, Chibi Kaito shadow-boxing as a form of dance, and Chibi Amaina bouncing her head and throwing rock-on hand signals in the air as her hair flew around.

Arven couldn’t help but watch the chibis as he sat with Doppio, Chief’s head resting in his lap as the dog was already snoozing, unaffected by the hustle and bustle. “...you guys really like music.”

OOO WE ARE MUSIC, MAAAAAAN!!

OvO Everyone is a little bit music. We’re just that bit given a voice 

OuO and adorable tiny bodies

“That doesn’t make any sense. I mean, I guess I could understand everyone having the potential to make music… but parts of us being inherently music?” Arven frowned, “I can think of plenty of people who don’t seem ‘musical’ to me. Including me.”

＼(｀0´)／ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋🎧ྀི!!!

OOO ACCURATE!

OoO But rudely said, calm down Kai-Kai

“Every culture in the world’s developed their own music, though,” Doppio mused, happily scratching the soft parts behind Akemaru’s ears, the puppy panting happily and getting slobber all around Doppio’s wrists. “Maybe not everyone’s musical, but…the, uh, capacity could be anywhere? Or from anyone. And also, people might not be that into music, but I’ve never heard someone say that they flat out hate music.”

“Anyone who did would be a total weirdo,” Kiba scrunched his nose, trying to imagine that kind of music at all. “Genres, songs, whatever, sure, but all music? It takes all types, but I’d think something was wrong with them.”

“Music has been often cited as a universal language,” Shino said, “Why? Because while the function of things such as chords or melody are culturally defined, even individuals and species without the same sense of sound as us still respond to the physical vibrations produced by music.”

“I’d still think musicians might have clearer music in them, at least,” Hinata giggled, watching the teens on stage tear it up and hype up the crowd…while the guitarist, a very large man, kept more to the sides, contributing more just with his music than any stage presence. 

OOO THE NEW WEIRDOS ARE CORRECT!

Arven pinched the bridge of his nose, “Amaina, please, you’ve known them for weeks. Please stop calling them the ‘new weirdos’. We are allowed to have other friends.”

OoO Doppio is allowed to have others friends

O.O you just have Doppio’s friends.

“....ow?” Arven said. 

OoO Anyway yeah everyone has music in them

OoO you all become straight up musicals in your brains

OvO it’s fun

OOO EVEN A FRIENDLESS LOSER LIKE LITTLE KING

“Why? Why is this where the conversation went??” Arven asked, “Also, musicals?”

O.O ……………

-

Amaina stepped into Arven’s mind, a guitar and drum beat playing through the air, as around her was a dark room full of silhouetted figures. There was a sense that these figures were conversing, holding cups and gesturing vaguely to each other. While in the corner, under a spotlight, Arven was slouched in a bean bag, looking visibly annoyed. 

Arven wasn’t singing or dancing, not really. But there was a fluidity in even his small movements that suggested they were moving to the beat, as he gave a stink eye to some of the silhouettes who had moved too close to him, entoning with the rhythm, “I’m too busy, don’t have time for people who aren’t important. I only came here for the–”

And suddenly all the silhouettes looked over at Amaina, only in that moment looking very pointedly like happy, panting canines, as they all shouted, “DOGS!”

….except for a slightly pinkly colored silhouette, who was very much Doppio shaped and sitting next to Arven, which Arven seemed pleased with, while the crowd all crowed they were only there for the DOGS!!

-

O.O….

OvO Yep!

OoO seriously you need to make some friends

“I have friends!” Arven sputtered, “Aceto’s my friend!”

Doppio nodded emphatically as Shino pointed out, “I believe that’s a factually incorrect statement. Why? Becau--”

“Pff, we know the chewtoy’s just messing with you, bro,” Kiba laughed, giving Amaina’s head some vigorous pets, “Like, hello? We became friends so hard Mom adopted you. That’s ultra-friendship.”

“I consider you my friend too, Arven,” Hinata said, putting her metaphorical hat into the ring, “And not just because you make really delicious pies.”

Doppio laughed softly. “That does sweeten the pot a lot, though. And Arven has…uh, well,” clearly second-guessing it, Doppio half-grimaced as he said, “I dunno if Trish is a friend or more of a friendly associate-in-law, but, I mean, Giovanni hangs out with us enough at school that I consider him a friend, at least. And Josie’s our friend too! And we’re friendly with the rest of the chess club?”

The truth was, any song that Amaina heard inside of someone was really just a small part of them, and not even necessarily a current part. Feelings from a long time ago, even if they were no longer relevant, were constantly not only in peoples minds, but also were in their surface thoughts. Actively thinking of moments, especially hard moments, even if everything in the moment was entirely fine.

Arven’s music was anti-social and lonely because, not that long ago, he really had been. And being surrounded by friends with a supportive family unit and a loving boyfriend hadn’t shaken that residual isolated, lonely feeling from Arven. That core instinct that he really could only tolerate dogs, despite all evidence to the contrary.

Amaina knew that was why the song was the first thing she saw when she took a peek…

…and it did not stop her from saying, OoO social loser say what?

Arven pouted, “What?”

OOO !!!

OvO Satisfying. I concede

OoO oh, speeaaaaaking of Josie, let me go peek at him

OoO see what music he’s playing today

“...should you really be just looking into people’s minds–”

-

Josie’s mind could be a pretty varied place, depending on the day. Songs that absolutely gave Amaina the eyecandy she’d traded with him for, ones that spoke of a sarcastic nihilism that even the strongest anti-depressants and therapy meetings wouldn’t erase all traces of, but today?

Today, it was cold. 

Not outwardly; in the physical world Josie was somewhere in the park with his more immediate friend group, listening to the music and cajoling each member into dancing, if only for a few moments. 

But as Amaina landed in his mind, there was a frosty crag, a group of young kids huddling against it for warmth. Though, the biggest of the group, bright red hair standing out among the blustery grey, had a wide, fond grin on his face as he scooped the younger kids into his arms for a hug, music like a defiant whisper, “...wanna be somebody who brings a kind heat, who warms the cliff, you see?”

In reality, Dimitri laughed in embarrassment as Josie got him swaying, before, with a wink to Yuta’s glare, he spun the blond off to his boyfriend. On the cliff a small Dimitri clutched onto Josie’s jacket with rings around his eyes, pleading for reassurance that this wasn’t all life was. In reality, Hugo rolled his eyes and refused to budge a muscle, until Josie tried poking various parts of his body enough to create a sort of dance through slaps and hand-chops. On the cliff, child Hugo sobbed tears that turned to ice against Josie’s chest, grieving a brother he didn’t know would one day return. In reality, Irene told her friend to stop messing around and bugging people, but conceded to a dance of her own, laughing at the over exaggerated bows and flourishes Josie acted through. On the cliff, a young Irene screamed and shouted, because the world never seemed to hear her otherwise, trying to turn her into something she’d never be. In reality, Dedan gave a surprised laugh as Josie dipped him with a wink, not expecting a rare show of strength from the notorious slacker. On the cliff, Dedan squeezed Josie’s hand, letting himself falter and worry to the one person he never needed to be strong for.

And the young Josie grinned more and more. 

“Let’s wipe all our tears away; each day that will fade, I’ll always take all your pain, I’ll bear the weight for your sake.”

-

“--like that?” Arven asked, before tilting his head with a sigh, “Actually, who am I talking to. I know I can’t stop you. But maybe don’t tell us whatever, uh, song you’re hearing. Josie might not be cool with it.”

OoO fiiiiiiiiiine. You’re no fun

OvO but, I’m in a music mood now

“That’s fine, we’re at the battle of the bands so–”

OOO CHIBI KAITO

(⁰▿⁰) ??!

OoO C’mon, you’re the fun one, let’s go invade some privacy

OOO WHOOO!

“Amaina–annnnd she’s gone.” Arven looked around fretfully, hoping to spot her in the crowd, “I bet she’s still here, shoot, where did she go… also, how are you still here?” Arven asked, looking at Chibi Kokichi, “Who’s making me see you right now?”

<.<

>.>

¯\_(0.0)_/¯

Hinata tilted her head a little, looking where Arven was talking to Akamaru’s head. “Was more than just Amaina-chan here?”

“Man, I cannot believe that your deal wasn’t ‘arooo’ and it was weird psychic shit,” Kiba groaned, lightly kicking Arven’s side. “How was anyone supposed to guess that?!”

“If I may remind you, Kiba, Arven was quite open about the fact he found mythical herbs before anything came into question,” Shino pointed out.

Doppio snickered. “To the point he’s making his year project about it. Kinda easy to guess.”

“Gaaaaah!”

“Yeah, I knew magic was real waaaaay before anyone told me. Hard not to. People literally write books about it.” Arven said dryly, rubbing his side with a pout, “Really bizarre more people don’t figure it out. All the evidence is right there.”

Chief huffed in Arven’s lap. Simply content with the world as it was.

-

Oh god, he had lost sight of the kids.

Kaito had been fanning Shuichi a bit, as his husband lounged in a yard recliner, wearing a sunhat and sipping on some water as the concert went on around them. Shuichi had been adamant he was only going to this battle of the bands thing if he had somewhere to sit, and that a towel didn’t count. So Kaito had hefted two recliner chairs, one for each husband, and had set up early, long before the bands had started, to ensure they had a nice, grassy spot that got both good sun and good shade and also a good view of the concert without too many spaces for people to box them in, and thus had ended up slightly on a hillside, a picnic basket set up as Kokichi, Shuichi and Maki showed up later with the kids.

Shuichi had taken one look, declared the space unfit, had picked a different spot, and they had just finished setting up there when Kaito realized he had lost track of the gaggle of children that, as usual, their family seemed to be primarily responsible for making sure they didn’t do anything crazy, c’mon Tsumugi! They weren’t free babysitters, you could help!

As Kaito fretfully looked through the crowds, Maki lounged back on a towel she was sharing with Elia, “Kaito, relax, they’re not going to explode just because we’re not actively looking at them. Could you try to relax?”

“Mmm, you know it’s bad when Maki’s saying it.” Shuichi said idly, sipping his drink. 

“Three I could handle. I was able to manage three. Now there’s five and one of them’s a genius inventor, and the other’s a dedicated ‘poke her nose where it’s not wanted’er.” Kaito muttered, peering around some more. Come on, where were they…

It wasn’t a mosh pit. Despite some of the bands submitted into the Battle of the Bands being metal and punk bands, there was notice put out to advise people to keep the event peaceful, and the guards were on standby for anyone getting too rowdy. However, that didn’t mean that people couldn’t get excited, and for the first band up, that meant some dedicated fans in front of the stage jumping and cheering their heads off to the music. 

Tim and Mike knew Gorgug and Riz, after all, and Bianka was more than happy to cheer on Riz’s friends even without a direct connection. Well, Bianka was definitely jumping and dancing, and Mike was…supportive. 

“I’m not much of a dancer either,” Riz chuckled lightly to Mike, “But Fig’s harassment is a big motivator. Especially since she can see us right in front of her.”

Mike just flushed with a scowl, before awkwardly cheering a “Woo-woo!” along with the song. Feet still firmly planted on the ground.

“WOO-WOO!” Cali shouted, mostly in solidarity with Mike. Hell yeah! Her friend was woo’ing! She’d woo too!

Kaito was able to hear the distinct Cali yell, and spotted the kids near the front of the crowd, cheering on the band. He relaxed a little as he accounted for all five of them. Okay, good, all of his were there…

Kaito felt a hand in the back of his hair, and easily followed the pull as he sat back, looking back curiously as Shuichi once Shuichi let go of the back of his hair and patted his head, “Would you relax?” Shuichi said, “We all have eyes on them. Here, rest against me a bit. You’ve done enough… for now.”

…Kaito kinda wished Shuichi would pull his hair some more, as his heart thudded in his chest. Resting his head against Shuichi’s arm…

-

O.O

O//O

OoO See, I know you didn’t know this was happening in his head, so WOW did I just get lucky huh, Kai-Kai?

(⸝⸝⸝>﹏<⸝⸝⸝)

Kaito knelt on the ground of a clearly underground dungeon, wearing chains all across his arms, chest and stomach, his feet spaced apart by a bar-lock, as he stared up in open, lewd adoration at Shuichi, who was wearing a very fetishized wardens outfit and holding a long, stringy flogger, as Kaito practically coo’d at him through bloody teeth, half his face bruised blue and purple, “Hold me down, and beat me to the bone~ chew my soul and smash it with a stone! Tear my heart, you can take all of me. Just keep me evermore, my dear~~”

Shuichi rolled his eyes, before rearing the flogger back, Kaito closing his eyes and bracing in anticipation–

-

Kaito hummed happily as Shuichi lightly pet his head. Shuichi rolled his eyes, patting him. There there.  

Elia muffled her laugh as she watched Kaito relax back against Shuuichi. “Seems like that was convincing enough.” Doing nearly the same herself and lounging back with Maki again, Elia hummed a nod towards the stage. “Teen bands can be hit or miss, but this group isn’t bad. Though I think they’re playing up the image a bit with the song subject.”

She had to give them credit if it was on purpose--it never hurt playing to the audience for these kinds of events. Teens being peak teen would get cheers just from people wanting to be supportive. 

Though they were talented on their own merit--near the gaggle of kids they were keeping an easy eye on, Elia could spot her youngest brother and sister enjoying the concert too, Lisa having found a groove to dance gracefully to garage rock, and Enoch bobbing his head appreciatively.

Maki, generally speaking, wasn’t a big fan of concerts. Too many easy ways to kill someone. Usually it was hard to relax.

But, well, she was hanging out with psychics and angels and was also a master-class assassin herself, so she was giving herself the benefit of the doubt that if something did happen, they’d at least be able to solve it quickly. So she was relaxing as well, watching the teens sing and dance as Elia laid against her. “Eh. Not sure how well you could dance-battle to these songs. But then, we’ve made due with worse.”

“Mmhm~” Kaito hummed happily, not even pretending to pay attention to the stage as he stared up at Shuichi adoringly. 

Maki watched Shuichi pet Kaito’s hair, and glanced at Elia on her shoulder. Uncertainly, a little awkwardly, she lifted her hand and placed it on top of Elia’s.

….pat pat?

Elia glanced up at Maki as her smile warmed, eyes crinkling with affection as she gave Maki’s waist a squeeze and kissed her shoulder. “I forgot, you have your own teen band to root for, huh. Already a lost competition~”

“I doubt whoever they were that they’re teens anymore,” Maki mused, as she more confidently rubbed Elia’s head. Hell yeah. She was winning. Doing the Girlfriend thing. “Based on the vinyls age? They’re probably older than us.”

“Nah,” Kaito murmured, nuzzling harder against Shuichi, “They live in those vinyls. They get to exist forever there, as teens having fun. That’s what I think.”

“I mean, you’re fundamentally and obviously incorrect,” Shuichi said, rubbing Kaito’s ear, “...but it’s a nice idea. So sure. People get to live forever in the moment they’re singing. Or something, whatever you were getting at.”

“Not even close~” Kaito coo’d.

Maki huffed a small laugh, before looking at the teens. It was a nice thought. Getting to let the teens live in a moment like this forever…

-

OoO okaaaay we’re in a different mind now stop yelling at me I barely saw annnyyything

(˶˃⤙˂˶)

OoO I jumped randomly too, where are we??

It was a good question. Since the mind, in one manner of speaking, seemed to be a mush of colors. But when you looked closer at the colors, you could see all sorts of things there. Trees blowing in the wind, but the wind was a child blowing out candles on a birthday cake. Stars glimmering in the sky, which were actually grains of salt thrown in a small kitchen food fight. A question of the nature of existence, only for nature to smile back and say with love, over and over, “It’s you.”

Layers and layers of everything there was and could be and might be but maybe not, mixing and waving together all over a young boy who smiled dreamily at it all, looking at every piece of it. Questions asked constantly, but not in desperation. Simply enjoying the process of wondering. 

Amaina watched the boy lazily but earnestly peer at the swirling colors around him. This was an emotion she was intimately familiar with. This was basking in Beauty.

It was nice to see a human so deeply enjoying it. Humans were so entrenched in beauty all the time that they became numb to it. Amaina was happy for him. 

-

As she had every few days since given the offer, Agent Halcyon crouched in Red Grove’s library, looking over old family and building documents with D’arce. To be honest, from a purely professional stance, the centuries of records were fascinating…and even without cross-reference, there were a few things that caught Hal’s eye as being, uhhhhhh, probably less than legal. But! Those weren’t what her current job was about, and she wasn’t particularly eager to start a case about land laws from three centuries ago.

To be honest, stepping out of professionalism, Hal had enjoyed talking with the Red Grove residents more than rifling through old papers. Usually it was shorter chats as she came and went, though of course D’arce was a more consistent talking partner, and occasionally Olivia would head over to the library to assist when she had the time and desire for a project. 

“--and with the help of the deserters from the Tistanan Empire, LeGarde proved his little ‘side project’s worth and the Avalonan freedom fighters were able to free the dam and all the prisoners kept there without a hitch! I really consider it one of the most decisive battles in the civil war, considering it allowed Avalona’s forces into Tistana, and…um…of course…”

Hal really did enjoy talking to D’arce, but a lot of her stories were like that. Recounts of the Knight family’s ancestry taking decisive wins or implementing foundational policies that showed their influence through time, and, some of D’arce’s favorites, those kinds of stories about her husband, specifically. It was cute, really, how much D’arce’s awe and appreciation came through in those stories, even if it was clear that she missed LeGarde dearly.

She wasn’t really the type to lose her train of thought, though, so Hal looked up in confusion. “Mrs. Knight, are you alright?”

“Oh, um, yes, I--” D’arce took a collecting breath. “I…believe I’ve found what we’ve been searching for. Ah… It’s a deed from 934, ‘In the event the Record patriarch should die without heirs, for their great service, the deed for Red Grove Apartments should be transferred to…”

D’arce’s lips thinned. “...Landon Barbarian, and his descendants.”

-

“...eh?” Ragnvaldr said, giving the wee-woman a bewildered look as he wiped his face with his forearm, not so much ‘clearing’ the soot there but sort of moving it around his large, square face. He had been busy trying to clear the burnt coals from the building furnace in the furnace rooms–a basement area entirely separated from the Wizard family’s living quarters–when the tax lady or whatever she was had insisted on talking to him. Something about ‘big news’.

‘Big news’ ended up being a bit of gobbly-gook, though, as Ragnvaldr rolled his eyes, walking pass the wee-lass with a burlap sack hefted over his shoulders full of old coal and ash as he said, “Someone’s played a prank on you, girl, if you’re not playing one on me. Abella! You done clearing them pipes? ‘Bout to make a dumping run.”

“Believe me, I’m not eager to bother someone during work unless it’s important,” Halcyon chuckled, stepping out of Ragnvaldr’s way. “Papers can just be drawn on, but Mrs. Knight and I cross-referenced the signatures with other contemporary documents, and I checked with the IRA database to make sure the officiant was--”

“Just got it done, old man,” Abella huffed, dragging over her own dump sack. Though, she gave a nod to Hal, asking, “This more about that bunker stuff? Sorry Hal, but like I said--while our family’s been here for ages, we’re not exactly the type to keep old pay stubs or rent waves around.”

“Someone else is, though,” Halcyon grinned, “And it seems the Barbarians being around forever is kind of the point. According to this document, after the Records gave up ownership of Red Grove, the deed was supposed to be given to your family.”

Abella blinked, coming to a stop in surprise. “Wha-?”

Ragnvaldr gave the tax lady an incredibly wary look, reaching to take Abella’s sack and adding it to his own. “...you sure you’re not just misreading the ol’ agreement we have to live here rent-free, so long as we work? Pretty sure the Crime family bought the place or something to that effect when the Record family high-tailed it out of here. Was a lad when that happened. Remember my folks needing to practically beg Caligura to let us stay, but he kept to the agreement the Record family made with the Barbarians. Can’t say much for those bastards, but they did that for us, was always grateful.”

“Well, I would need to take a look at the property receipts they have, then, but according to this deed, the duplex should’ve been granted to your family when the Records left,” Hal explained, “If the Crimes bought the property either from government claim or from the Records themselves, without legally documented compensation to the Barbarians, then that purchase was legally invalid, and even the Primes having gotten the deed from the Crimes wouldn’t change that in legal process, the property is yours.”

Taking a raggedy towel from her belt, Abella wiped her hands as she listened to Halcyon explain the legal line of everything. And what it sounded like? 

She snorted. “Pav’d have a day, hearing that.”

Ragnvaldr’s left eye twitched. Brow furrowed… “Abella, dump the sacks for me, lass. And don’t fuss if they send me to the cooler, I’ll be out by tomorrow. I need to go have a damn word with Caligura,” Ragnvaldr growled, passing his daughter the sacks of soot and, rolling up the sleeves of his overalls, heading upstairs. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Abella sighed, taking the sacks over her shoulders with a huff. Though at the glance Hal gave Ragnvaldr, she shook her head a little. “He’ll be alright, Pap’s made of solid stuff. If what you said about that deed’s true though…”

“It’s always kinda felt like we’ve lived here on the grand benevolence of others, you know?” she sighed, taking Halcyon on a walk to dump out the furnace gunk, “We take care of the building, so we’re not really here for free, but sometimes it feels like that can be taken away at any moment. I’m able to have my job in the tunnels because Pap’s got things on lock here, and I can still help on my days off. If the building was ours?”

“It’d be nice having that security,” Halcyon surmised, giving Abella a nod with a little smile. “Not having to worry about having a roof over your head takes a lot of the stress away in life. It’s not my job to settle property transfers, just finding it for possession permissions, but I do hope that finding that deed makes things a little easier on you all.”

“It would give me more fodder for ‘ill-gotten gains’ jokes, if they wouldn’t make Marcoh’s face scrunch up so much,” Abella laughed.

-

There was a knock at the door, and after a bit, Marcoh answered. “Oh, uh… hello, Mr. Barbarian. Something up with our unit–?”

“Gonna need you to take your sister out for lunch or somethin’ Marcoh,” Ragnvaldr said simply, crossing his arms, “Got something to talk to your dad about.”

Marcoh hesitated. Ragnvaldr wasn’t necessarily an ‘angry’ man, not in ways that mattered. But he was a serious one, in his own ways, and if he told you something, he got really aggressive if you made him tell you twice. 

More than that, he was the only person in the building bigger than Marcoh himself. Not that Ragnvaldr had ever laid a hand on him for more than pulling him off things he shouldn’t be climbing when he was a kid, but it was still something Marcoh was keenly aware of as muscles from working a lifetime of labor tensed in front of Marcoh, stern eyes quickly losing their patience the longer Marcoh dawdled.

“....uh, yeah, okay.” Marcoh conceded, warily backing away, “Let me just go grab her.”

Ragnvaldr nodded as Marcoh hurried off, knocking on Samarie’s room. He glanced at the door that was Pav’s but decided to leave it. If Mr. Barbarian was mad dad had, who knew, sold the copper from the power lines or something, Pav would probably be more amused than traumatized. “Samarie, come on, we’re going out.” Marcoh insisted, knocking on the door again.

Glancing at the door from her diary, Samarie hesitated from the impulse to tell Marcoh to get lost. Most of the time, that would be a perfectly fine response--she wasn’t interested in so-called family bonding, and she didn’t want to be an accessory to Marcoh feeling guilty and sending her worried glances all the time while trying to spend time with her out of obligation. 

But Samarie was someone who paid attention to words. And Marcoh hadn’t asked, ‘come with me’ or ‘do you want to go’. He said ‘we’re going out’, a declarative statement that was wholly unlike him…except when. Well. They needed to be out of the apartment. 

Hiding her diary in a hollowed out textbook, Samarie opened her door, giving the hall behind Marcoh a wary look. “...are we getting Pav too?”

“No, come on. We’ll go to that sushi place you like,” Marcoh promised, herding Samarie out, before calling out, “Dad! Mr. Barbarian wants to talk to you! Come on, let’s go.”

The last sentence was done in a hushed, hurried whisper, still herding Samarie to the door, as behind them Caliguri shouted, “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, CALLING ME FROM ACROSS THE UNIT!? WHAT, YOU THINK YOU’RE TOO BIG FOR ME TO–ah, Rags. What, the smoke getting through the walls again? I opened the window like we discussed, don’t know what the hell else I can do for you by this point.” Caligura said, stepping out of the master bedroom and down the hall, smoking a cigar as he glanced around the living area, “The hell did my kids run off to? I swear, Marcoh gets a frou-frou service job and starts acting like he’s some man of the house. Can you believe the lip on that kid? Like being a barista doesn’t practically put him in a skirt and corset–”

BAM!

The hit came out of nowhere. As mentioned, Ragnvaldr wasn’t actually known as a particularly violent man. Big and strong and aggressive, sure, but he didn’t start fights out of nowhere, and was slow to be goaded into one. Most fights he got into was getting in between other peoples’ fights, big enough to separate two hot-headed idiots on the verge of ruining each other’s lives from one bad shove.

But Caligura’s nose was already gushing blood as the stout but smaller man thumped onto his backside in shock. No stranger to fights himself, but knowing a losing fight when it was towering over him like a giant, as he stayed on the ground and sputtered, “Th-the hell–!?”

“I dunno what the hell you did. And I don’t care about owning the damn Red Grove. Maybe I’ll sell the deed back to the Primes so my girl can have the starting funds to make her own shop someday, if she wants it, makes no difference to me. That ain’t why I’m mad,” Ragnvaldr said, stepping forward.

“Deed to the Red Grove, the fuck are you–GAK!” Caligura gagged as Ragnvaldr stomped onto his stomach, pressing the hard heels of his boot in as the man gasped and squirmed under him, the giant glaring down at him.

“But you embarrassed my ma and da all those years ago, and they both died trusting you still. Always said you couldn’t trust the Crimes with a loan or a watch, but you could trust their word, and that was something. Always rubbed me the wrong way, hearing them talk like that, not after watching you and your ma’ make them squirm the day you lot got the building, like you ever had any right to kick us out. But I always kept it to myself out of respect for them.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, y-you stupid over-grown o-oaf-ooOOOF!” 

Ragnvaldr kicked Caligura again. Opened his mouth to say something, scoffed, and then kicked him again. And again.

Pav finally peeked out the door. Having the good sense to stay within its frame in case he needed to close it in a hurry, but still snickering in amusement as he asked Ragnvaldr, “Ho-ho-hoo~ always knew someone was gonna kill the old man. Wasn’t expecting it to be the building punching bag though. Don’t mind me, have fun.”

Ragnvaldr shot Pav an unamused look, before looking back down at Caligura. Who was gagging and sputtering still, choking on the blood spouting from his nose, vomiting a little from the stomach kicks. Ragnvaldr huffed, pushing his foot down a bit as Caligura gurgled. “...thought about kicking you out. Or at least making you beg to stay. But the only good thing you ever gave those kids is a stable place to stay, and I ain’t taking away the only good thing they’ve got. You can go to the guards after this if you want, they hate your ass, I’ll be out in a day. You can come at me with a crowbar too, if you want to take that risk. But you and I both know what you should be.”

“Fucking,” grind, “Grateful.”

And with that said, Ragnvaldr stepped back, staring at Caligura as the man gurgled, before rolling his eyes and heading off. 

Pav watched the larger man leave, before looking down at his father. “Hold on, hold on, Dad, stay still, I’ll go grab something!”

Pav hurried off, ruffled around his room, before hurrying back… and taking a quick picture from a polaroid camera. It wouldn’t be a good picture. They could only do faint black and white outlines of images, so far… but that was more than enough for Pav, who giggled, heading back to his room. 

-

Thankfully Marcoh and Samarie returned home before the sky opened and let loose a heavy spring deluge of rain, cracking, roaring thunder accompanying the clouds as the day darkened into night. Seeing enough evidence of what had happened, Samarie tried out some poetic comparison, the growls outside a manifestation of Ragnvaldr’s anger. Without knowing exactly what the situation was--and having no desire to snoop around and find out--the comparisons stayed shallow, and Samarie turned her attention to enjoying the moody evening. 

For the most part, that was along the lines of what the rest of the Red Grove residents did as well, noting but not particularly bothered by the storm raging outside, rain pelting their windows. 

Except within the Rogue residence, around ten, late, but not absurdly so, when Moonless nosed out of Girl’s room and started pacing, her claws clicking consistently up and down the hall. 

Click-click-click-click. Pause. Whiiiiine. Click-click-click. Pause, stopping by Daan’s door. Heavy sniffles and snuffles at it, before another whiiiiiiiine.

Girl had been doodling in a coloring book by lamplight, not having been ready to go to bed, despite the injustice of having been sent to bed, simply because of arbitrary rules such as it being ‘Bed Time’. So when Moonless had gotten up, Girl had felt fine getting up as well to follow her, her little feet padding against the wooden floor as she hoped Daddy wouldn’t notice they had gotten out of bed. 

She curiously looked at the door Moonless was pawing at. Big Brother Daan was both a warm and welcomed presence in Girl’s life, while at the same time being a bit of an enigma to her. He had sent letters most of her childhood, visited at times, and Daddy gushed and praised and ranted about him to anyone willing to stand still long enough to hear it, which at times had made Daan seem larger than life to the little girl. A myth now down the hall.

But she also just didn’t know him that well. Both beloved family and half-stranger. It was an odd mix, as Girl lightly petted Moonless’ head, before reaching up to open the door. Peeking inside. 

It was dark inside. Quiet, though for a moment, Girl would be able to hear small rasps, not quite like snores or other sounds of sleep, but rather--

Ah, well, there was only a moment to observe those sounds cleanly, since with the door now open Moonless pushed inside, trotting over to Daan’s bed and giving a small bark. 

“WroOF!”

“MIAOU!!”

In the dark, a large, indistinct figure sprung up from the bed, tossing a blanket onto the floor. A large yellow eye catching the smallest bit of light from the hall and glimmering threateningly.

…Girl gasped.

Kitty!

Big kitty, sure, but this was not going to dissuade Girl, who slowly but eagerly moved forward. She knew how to pet cats. You had to be slow and let them sniff you first. One of the neighbors had a cat and Girl had always found the creature enchanting, even if Moonless always barked and wanted to eat it. She reached her hand forward as she got closer to the kitty, humming eagerly. 

Moonless sniffed relentlessly at the cat, paying no heed as it puffed up more and more and backed against the wall. This was one of those fun, delicious snacks that she saw darting now and again through the backlot and the walls…but this also smelled like Brother? Not just like Brother, because this was Brother’s Room so it always smelled like him, even when he was gone, but more like…

The giant cat watched warily as Girl approached, letting out some nervous miaous as she got closer and it pressed more and more against the wall. When it felt the very start of little fingers against rough, ruffled fur, the cat flinched, digging claws into what already looked like an abused mattress. 

…but as no pain came? The cat peeked its one eye back open and sniffed warily. Tilting its head enough that, perhaps, one might see the crusted blood and fluids around the fur of its closed eye.

Girl frowned as she saw the blood. Was the kitty hurt…?

Girl didn’t have time to wonder, as a figure appeared at the door and, quicker than Girl could even realize Daddy was there–having gotten up to inspect the odd noises–she was suddenly swept up into his arms, Cahara moving shockingly quickly to pull her away from the… thing on the bed…?

“We don’t have anything,” Cahara said immediately, still not sure what he was looking at, but on instinct assuming it was some fashion of burglary that his daughter and ‘dog’ had walked in on, “And if we did have anything, it’d be in the small safe across the hall, which really only has a few loan deeds. So really, we have less than nothing, if you…”

Cahara squinted, his vision adjusting in the light, “...what are you? Are you a Kyuu?”

The cat pressed itself now flat against the bed, any chance of bolting and hiding under it dashed by Moonless pacing and sniffing all along the perimeter. It was trapped. 

…he was trapped. 

Still reeling from the pain the cat had been trying to breathe through when Girl opened the door, now surrounded by things bigger than him--(but that didn’t matter, you know them, you know them)--the cat let out a low, frightened mewl, claws buried deep in the mattress. 

“.........” Cahara was going to feel soooo stupid if he was wrong, especially if this thing had just, like, eaten his son or something, but, the fact that this creature was in his bed and there was no sign of a dead Daan corpse and well…. “Daan?”

(You know them, you know them, you know this)

“Mrrriaou…” Daan miaoued miserably, fluffy ears twitching towards Cahara, single eye looking up. 

“Mrrriaou,” Girl mimicked.

“Well, that’s as good a first word as any,” Cahara muttered, shifting Girl onto his hips as he gave… Daan? A more appraising look. “...you need cleaning, if you are my son. I suppose if you’re not as well, but it does feel more urgent now. Are you injured? Why am I asking like you can answer.” Cahara sighed, turning around and placing Girl on Moonless’ back. “Go back to Girl’s room. Girl’s Room, Bed Time, Moonless.” 

The cat’s ears perked at the other miaou, lifting his head slightly. Eye opening more, before ducking down against as Cahara spoke. 

Moonless kept sniffing at the bed, before letting out a huff as Girl was deposited on her back. The sounds of distress and intriguing smell were more than worth a nighttime adventure…but Dad’s word was law. Mostly. 

With a yawn, Moonless started out of Daan’s room, only casting one look back before taking Girl back to her own room. 

The cat eyed Cahara warily, the end of his tail flicking.

Cahara adjusted his robes a little, ensuring Girl and Moonless left, before glancing back at the Maybe Daan on the bed. “...I’m going to turn on the light. I don’t know if you understand me. But, that’s what’s happening next. Please… do not eat me or something.”

Warning given, Cahara flicked on the light.

Even with the warning, the cat flinched, giving a small, “Mrrp!”

But what was revealed in the light was… The cat, sure. But more than a large, indistinct feline shape, was a cat much larger than any known species on Tiavel, and a pale, almost washed out purple to boot. And around the cat could be described as a warzone, if you had never been in a real one. There were rips and scratches all over Daan’s sheets and over the walls as well, his blanket as well as the contents of his nightstand scattered over the floor, and coiled haphazardly on the pillow were stained bandages, as well as a mushy, damp ball of cotton, stained lightly red and yellow. 

Adjusting to the light, the cat glanced over everything, before returning his gaze to Cahara. Almost sheepishly flicking his ears back.

“.......hm.” Cahara hummed, face grimacing in distaste. He wasn’t the squeamish type–his lifestyle hadn’t allowed him the luxury–but…still. This was going to be so much laundry… “I don’t know what it would mean, in the long run, but I do hope you actually are my son. I’d hate to think what happened here otherwise. You didn’t eat my son entirely clean, bones and all, yes?”

C’mon, don’t take that tone with him…

…though Daan was fairly certain that he didn’t have the teeth nor the digestive abilities to completely eat a carcass, despite the pain radiating out from his stomach now. Eventually, sure, cats would go through every bit of nutrition they could from a given source, but they weren’t like hyenas that were built to shatter and eat through bo--oh?

Having been giving small, huffy miaous through that, Daan stopped, blinking in surprise. Right. He was Daan. He was Daan, in his home, and this was…

Daan blinked up at Cahara, before sitting up, giving a baleful miaou, lifting a large, fluffy paw and dangling it in distress. 

“MIaouuuuuuuu…” (Daaaaaad, HELP!)

Cahara hesitated. He knew he wasn’t the brightest person around. The fact that his son had come out as intelligent as he had Cahara had always credited his late wife for, who while having the same career path as himself, had at least chosen it willingly and hadn’t ended up a house pet for two old perverts. She had been the one to come up with the plan, for one, and had life not been unkind to her and Girl, would be enjoying the fruits of her intelligence to this day.

But, that said… Cahara had a soft heart. Softer than it really had any business being, considering his life. Even if this thing wasn’t his son, he’d have a tough time ignoring that distressed sound, as Cahara took out a handkerchief and subconsciously licked the end of it, before approaching the beast. “Oh, don’t whine, we’ll get you cleaned up. Let me take a look…”

Hesitating again–this was going to be an incredibly stupid way to orphan his children–Cahara carefully reached forward. Starting to wipe the blood off the creature’s face. 

Daan flinched, but kept still and closed his eye as Cahara started to clean up the discharge from his eye. That…wasn’t exactly what he’d been asking for help with, but Daan couldn’t fault his father. He hadn’t really let Cahara get a good look at it since he’d returned home. He knew his father wasn’t squeamish, but…well, Daan was a doctor, and he was more than capable of cleaning his own wounds. Usually. 

Trying to think of a better way to communicate, Daan tried to paw the shape of a D next to Cahara, attempting to answer his earlier question despite the chance for nods being over.

…what was a… No, c’mon, you know, um… Look, there’s no reason other animals couldn’t learn, um…what was he trying to… “Mrrao, miaou, mmmmiaou,” Daan meowed in distress, trying to refocus his mind.

“I’m sure,” Cahara agreed idly, finishing wiping off the creature’s face, before frowning down at his paws, “Are you injured there? May I see your paw? Goodness, these are large.” Cahara murmured, taking the paw pawwing at him and looking it over, “...I don’t see an injury, though, you have lovely toe-beans, Daan. And very scary claws. I will be upset if you scratch my face, Daan, I do still have my pride.”

…thanks, Dad. 

Oh! He got the idea!

Daan sighed and flexed his claws, though not even to the point of pressing against Cahara’s skin. Taking his paw back, he stood--head about equal in height to Cahara’s while the man was sitting--and did a little circle before flicking his tail. Okay, for the next thing to convey, it wasn’t about his paws, it was--

Crrrr-BOOM!

The thunder rattled outside, and Daan jumped, landing on the floor with a heavy thump as he scuttled under his discarded blanket and under the bed. 

“Oh!” Cahara gasped, more startled by the creature than by the thunder. He put a slightly worried hand onto his own stomach, where the paw mimicked a circle. What had that been about? It had felt too pointed otherwise… but also that took a backseat to his son cowering beneath the bed, as Cahara sighed. Sitting down on the floor, and peering beneath it. “Daan, come now. I thought we had moved past this at 6. The sky is very far away, remember? The thunder is loud, yes, but the lightning is miles away. We know because we can count the miles, yes? Hold on, let’s wait for the next one…

There was a flash of light, flickering through the window.

“One, two–”

Krrr-AACK!

“Two miles. That’s certainly far. Farther than I’d feel like walking.” Cahara smiled.

Years ago, they’d indeed had this conversation. Cahara patiently explaining how thunder and lighting worked, how you could count the space between the light and sound to know how far away the storm really was even if it looked like it was just outside your window. 

Daan knew that. 

(But this wasn’t that. The sound of thunder was like boots smacking across dirt and pavement, like doors being busted open. Lighting like sunlight flashing off of shields, disorienting you for a second too long.)

(Two miles was a long way to walk, but it meant you were in danger if that’s how far away the fighting was. It’d be upon you in moments, and with another boom, it’d be at your throa--)

There was a pitiful mew as Daan huddled farther beneath the bed at the latest thunderclap. The room filled with quick, pained rasping.

Cahara gave a little sigh. His son had always been a bit stubborn. He supposed the cat version was no exception. 

Cahara decided to lay on the floor, within the creature’s line of sight. He rested his head against his arm, smiling warmly into the dark shadows. 

He hummed a soft song. It wasn’t a lullaby, not really. But when the children were young, it was often the song that came to mind for Cahara. He wasn’t sure where he had first heard it. At this point, he may have dreamt it up and forgotten he had done so. But he hummed, “I dreamt I was an ocean, because the ocean’s what I was… I pulled him out to sea, just to have a little fun…”

Though it came out not as words, but soothing, cheerful little vibrations. “Hmmm hm hmmmm hm hmmmm hm hmmmmm…”

…you know this.

…you knew this, Dad always with a smile even when he came to check up on you with bruises he always dodged the question about. You figured it out when you got older, but…

It seemed like nothing good ever came without a cost. But Daan had to take the moments of good when they came. He had to. He had to…

Daan crawled forward slightly, just enough to curl into a fluffy ball next to Cahara’s arm, sending a wary glance at the rest of his room before tucking his head down.

Cahara smiled at that. Still humming as, slowly, carefully, he lifted his hand…

The creature–still, Caraha believed, Daan–was pleasant to the touch. Cahara pet his hand down the creature’s fluffy, silky back. He hoped whatever was happening, it wasn’t permanent. Both for Daan’s life, but also, because it was proving to be a warm spring, and goodness this was a lot of fur…

“And who could have knoooown,” Cahara hummed, “I should have let go…who could have known… oh I should have let go…” 

Cahara smiled, “But not you. Never you. My dearest son.”

There was a small snuffle in the heap of fur. A tiny, “...mrrrp.”

And as Cahara pet along Daan, he might notice a few…gaps. Where his ‘upper arm’ was, a few gaps in the fur, and if investigated, would lead to a few recently healed punctures. The spacing bringing to mind, perhaps, a bite. 

There seemed to be a break in the thunder, for the time being, and Daan leaned against his father. After a few more pets, a thunder of his own, in low, deep purring vibrating through his chest.

Ah, Cahara’s children were always the cutest, even when turned into monstrous beasts. 

-

As consciousness started to break through his mind, like clouds parting after a storm, Daan became aware of an aching pulse in his head. That wasn’t all, there was a sort of wet gumminess by his missing eye that he was getting used to, and soreness throughout his body, but also--

“...nn. Hmm?”

Prying his remaining eye open, Daan found himself sort of…wedged. Under his bed. Naked. Next to his dad. 

…he really needed his next round of painkillers. And to clean his ocular cavity out. 

Able to poke Cahara’s shoulder, Daan called, “Dad. Dad. Dad, wake up.”

Cahara sighed, waving his hand lightly as he nuzzled his head into his arm, “I’ll take you to school in a bit, Daany…”

“Over a decade too late.” Daan sighed softly and tried to shimmy himself out from under his bed more, only managing small shifts. But enough to lightly kick Cahara’s leg with his own. “Dad. I’m stuck under here, I need you to move.”

“Always was bad at getting you there on time.” Cahara said, peeking an eye open, “Don’t kick your father, I bruise like a peach. Also, relieved to see you’re alive. I was getting very attached to your potential murderer. Or just a cat that snuck in, which is a bit embarrassing either way.”

Cahara stretched a bit, before languishly getting up, his movement as slow and elegant as everything he did. Artwork in motion.

“Good thing I learned how to walk myself, hm?” As Cahara got up on his own schedule, Daan tried to shift his shoulders into a position that would allow him to slide out, though his efforts were stalled as what his father was saying registered as more than just playful fantasy. 

First impulse was to ask just what on earth Cahara was talking about…but that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t like Daan hadn’t noticed the cat fur. Or the scratches. Or the hazy, dreamlike memories that slipped through his head like water, but left everything wet. 

Tilting his head out from the bed, Daan frowned in worry, looking Cahara over. “...I didn’t hurt you any?”

“Not at all. You got a bit spooked by the weather, I complimented your lovely little toe-beans, and we went to sleep.” Cahara winced, rubbing his neck, eyes practically shimmering with sweet, delicate tears–that he could summon on demand–as he said, “I think I cricked my neck. Daan, make me one of your lovely little tonics, would you? Then you can explain to me why you turned into a strange but very pretty cat-beast.” 

Daan looked up without remorse. “Get me out from here first. Kind of the order of operations we need to follow.”

As the two of them worked to pull Daan out from under his bed, Daan gave a sigh of relief once he was pulled free, sitting up with a swaying wince and putting a hand to his head. He felt something a bit wet drip from his eye cavity, but he didn’t even bother wiping it away before he got up to stagger out to the bathroom. 

It was a small lie. Get him out from under the bed, take painkillers, rebandage himself, then he could make up a muscle relaxant for his dad. Couldn’t take care of anyone before you took care of yourself. 

Oh, but you would say that, doll~ Ever the selfish one. Not even going to check on the havoc you wrought, just keep it far from your pretty little mind. Ha! What a card~

Cahara informed Daan he’d be right back, and then did the fatherly duty of ensuring his young daughter hadn’t inexplicably died in the night. Girl surviving to another day, Cahara promised her he’d make some breakfast soon, but to hold off on needing to make it right away, cut her a slice of pie and told her to go play with her toys while daddy sorted out her brother.

Remembering last minute he needed to feed the dog–because she growled as he started to walk away–he absentmindedly took out a slab of meat from the fridge, some sort of steak or somesuch, and tossed it to her. Not bothering to watch her devour the thing whole as he wandered back to Daan, “Oh, don’t hurry or anything… I’m certain the pain I’m in having slept by your side all night in your time of need isn’t anything compared to the horrors of war. I certainly couldn’t complain…”

“Apologies for not breaking the boundaries of time for you. A fatal flaw, I’m aware.” Pressing a small jar into Cahara’s hand, Daan walked past him to, now, get dressed. Though, as he pulled out his clothes for the day, he glanced back at his father. “...thank you for staying with me. I’m not exactly sure what state I was in, but I appreciate it.”

“You were very cute. And very much a cat. A very big cat.” Cahara said, tilting the tonic onto his wrist, and dabbing the liquid around his neck, before downing the rest of the bottle in one swig, “I thought you were some sort of Kyuu-spawn at first, having eaten my son. But as messy and bloody as everything was, it didn’t seem like enough blood to suggest someone had died? And the cat was so close to you in coloring, the eyes, the missing eye, the same sort of ‘grimace’ you always have when you’re upset. Yes, that’s the one.” Cahara said cheerfully, smiling at his son, “So I took the risk that you were, in fact, the cat. Call it father’s intuition! And your mother suggested I was unobservant. Can you believe that? Just because I left you behind at the market once or twice.”

Daan rolled his eye a bit. “Very formative moments for developing my sense of direction. Comes in handy not getting lost even in the most obscure corners of Gliese.”

He sighed softly, buttoning his pants before gesturing to what were much more easily identified as bite marks on his arm without fur in the way. “I’m a cat,” he confirmed, “The blood was likely from my ocular cavity, considering I guess the change in skull shape pushes out the bandaging. From what I’ve been able to gather, I was bitten by a gatanthrope and contracted gatanthropy from them.”

A frown deepened on Daan’s face as he started to pull on a shirt. “...considering I was bitten during combat, it’s…concering that there’s a faction knowingly using allagism against other species as warfare. I’m not sure it was even considered during peace talks to be considered a war crime.”

“Perhaps it was simply an accident?” Cahara offered, sitting on Daan’s bed as he looked around at the mess, “Unless your coworkers are also cat-people these days?”

“What coworkers,” Daan grumbled, (So quick to dismiss them, Daniël~) before cooling that with a sigh, “I’m not sure, I wasn’t paying the most attention to things when I left. It seemed pointed, but I’ll admit that intent during dire circumstances isn’t exactly clear.”

Buttoning up his vest, Daan squatted for his cigarette pack first, before picking up the items scattered on the ground. “I usually sleep through it. Did I wake you up?”

“I’m sorry… you usually ‘sleep through it’?” Cahara frowned, now giving his son an openly irritated look, “When was I going to hear about my new kitten-child? When it was yowling in little kitty despair? Because that would have been better than how I actually found out, which was seeing Girl two seconds away from trying to pet a wild animal that had taken the place of her apparently very inconsiderate brother!”

The real answer was that Daan hadn’t been planning on telling anyone, ever, because…well, he slept through it. He wasn’t big on nightlife anyway, so he’d just--

(Hole up in your room all by your lonesome~ Hey, maybe bar the doors too, block out the windows, stay in your little pit forever til you die. Wouldn’t that be fun and fitting?)

But Cahara mentioning what had actually happened last night made Daan jolt in surprise, looking back up at his dad with a wide eye. “Girl came in here?”

“She did, and you now officially owe her an apology for it. In compensation, you can make her breakfast. She likes freshly made waffles.” Cahara huffed, shaking his head as he crossed his arms, heading out to the kitchen, “You think you raise a smart child, and what does he do? Hide his cat-mutations. Like that’s never going to be relevant. I’m going to cut myself some fruit, you may also make me some toast.” 

Daan let out a slow breath, giving his door a worried look. He obviously hadn’t hurt her, they’d be having a very different conversation if he had, if he would’ve woken up at all, but…shit. Fuck. 

“...yeah. Alright,” Daan eventually said, a bit unsteadily, as he rose and headed to the kitchen, giving Girl’s door a concerned look as he passed. Forcing himself to steady as he got out the supplies to make waffles. 

He didn’t hurt her. Girl was fine. Moonless watched over her like a hawk, if that wasn’t too insulting to not compare her to the fine job the dog did. Maybe she was spooked, but that was something he could talk to her…about…

…why was she in his room?

Almost blankly Daan looked at his supplies before he headed to Girl’s room, knocking softly and waiting a beat before peeking in. “Girl?”

Mouth smeared with cherry pie, Girl looked up from where she was reading a thin children's book. Her big brown eyes looking doefully up at her brother as her legs lightly kicked behind her.

She stared silently at Daan for a moment… before making a small mrrp sound.

She’s fine. 

Daan looked back at Girl, coloring lightly at the distinctively cat-like sound before he came in, giving Moonless a few pats at his requisite sniff-over. 

“Dad gave you breakfast pie, huh? Hope he didn’t ruin your appetite so he gets all the waffles I’ll make,” he hummed, crouching on a knee and pulling out a handkerchief--it wasn’t the fashion in Tiavel, Daan had just learned the benefit of carrying around spare cloth--and wiping Girl’s mouth. “Are you okay? I heard you went into my room last night--was there something you needed?”