saturatedworld

[saturatedworld]

When the Bells Toll

(These stories were written for Fallen London New Year’s Eve Competition.)

Joyful and Bright

"Oh, Leo! Here, help me cut these papers into postcards."

Leonard stares at the sight before them: colourful papers are scattered on a coffee table, joyful and bright, and with them are scissors, glues, and bottles of ink and paint. There are feathers lying about as well – either from the ravens perching by her side, or those patches of feathers growing between her hair. They turn around, muttering, "I'm leaving."

"Aw, Leo!" exclaims Meika again. "You tease! Did you get the potatoes?"

Once more, Leonard faces their friend and puts down the brown paper bag they brought among the papers and feathers. "What are you planning to do with these? Please don't tell me you are intending to…."

"I will make the most fabulous stamps," says Meika with a grin.

Are you a kid? As that question crosses Leonard's mind, they remember that yes, this woman is a kid inside her heart, excitable and reckless in her disposition. "At least," they say, knowing it's in vain, "organise your table. The ink and paint will get on the papers at this rate."

"It will be fine; it will be fine," she sings. "Say, don't you like crafts like this? Your work involves it, right?"

"I'm a scriptwriter, not a stagehand." Leonard sighs. "Never mind that… why don't you just buy the greeting cards? And will these cards even arrive before Christmas? It's now—"

Meika wags her finger. "No, no, these are New Year's cards! And it has to be handmade, else it won't be a surprise."

"A surprise?"

"Yes, something unique and special for the turn of the century. Store-bought won't do; oh, they won't do. I will have my darling ravens deliver these cards so they may arrive at midnight," she explains while inspecting the potatoes, a raven watching from her shoulder. She then places one of the vegetables on a postcard and nods to herself.

Satisfied, she flashes a smile to her friend and asks again, "So, help me cut the papers, please?"

"I have no time for this, Madam," says Leonard with a huff. Childlike, indeed. Even so, perhaps her excitement would fit with all the fireworks and revels, joyful and bright. Crossing their arms, they add, "…I admit it sounds interesting, however. I shall look forward to a card from you."

***

Ice and Snow

In a daze, Leonard separates themself from a group of revellers, taking a needed break from the jolly hubbub. They stop to look down on the river from Hood's Bridge, watching the Drownies bob their wet heads between the fragile ice and snow.

They, too, were covered in ice and snow at several points in their life. They walked through cold dreams, cast in black and white, and they emerged as a new person.

They squint and check their ears; the Drownies have yet to sing their alluring, terrible song, but they can't be careless or the cost would be their dress for the evening. Shaking their head, they throw a quick glance toward where they came from, clamorous with a different kind of song.

The truth is, even as they laughed in that festivity, they never gave much thought to New Year's before. Yes, yes, the year ends and another begins, and the revels are entertaining, but then what? Nothing changes in London. Year after year, the city remains a dark place under her thin veil of hospitality, with all of the vices and depravity to indulge in.

Perhaps that is why New Year's revels appeal for the moment but never more in their heart. "New" is to change, to be reborn, and doing the same thing every year, throwing revels like any other celebrations, is no change.

"North."

The chilling word – a word from a page of their life – slips away from their mouth. They close their eyes, recalling the vast black and white they saw in their youth. Should they embark on another voyage? They cannot change the city, but perhaps they can change and be reborn once more with the ice and snow.

***

Warm and Gentle

"If we had cloves, we could make pomanders with these," says Aleksei while turning an orange over in his hand.

"Perhaps we could set some aside," replies Chizuru. "I would rather we eat them though; it's like back on the Surface again."

"Why so?"

"It's winter, the streets are snowed in, and we sit in someplace warm and eat oranges," he lists off, counting them on his rugged fingers. "Although back then we sat in a kotatsu instead of sitting by a fireplace like this."

Aleksei chuckles. "A typical winter over there, isn't it?"

Two men sit facing each other in a parlour, one drinking tea from a stained mug, and one peeling an orange – not cheap, down here in this season. On the table between them, a novel sits untouched next to a second mug and the basket of oranges. Pops and crackles come from the fireplace nearby, faint yet reassuring. Bliss.

That warm atmosphere is cracked by the sound of a sharp cough, suppressed in vain.

"Lyosha," whispers Chizuru, "perhaps we should turn in for the night."

Aleksei takes a deep breath before he replies, "It's fine. I'm fine. Just a little longer." He glances at the clock on the wall; it ticks and tocks in a steady rhythm toward midnight.

"Just a little longer then," repeats Chizuru with a resigned smile.

Another cough, and Aleksei grabs his mug for a drink; he can feel it soothing his throat, just a little. As he wipes fog off his glasses, he begins grumbling, "I was too busy last year, remember? And this year I just had to fall into the river and catch a cold."

"At least you didn't become a Drownie."

"Not when I had planned a dinner at Dante's with you. I won't let them drag me down," he says, putting his glasses back on. He stares into his mug and sighs. "But I suppose it no longer matters now."

"Ah, don't say that. I like dinner at home too," says Chizuru, leaning forward with a languid sway. "We even managed to grab some oranges while shopping for ingredients."

Aleksei pushes himself back into the sofa, as if it would bury him. "I told you, Chizuru-han. Don't get too close; you might catch my cold."

"Fine, fine."

Although he said that, Aleksei is still glad to have his husband sitting before him. Last year, an unpredicted Blemmigan propagation caught him off-guard, leaving him damp and soggy in Bugsby's Marsh even as the bells tolled in the distance. In another year, he was still on the Surface, and Chizuru had lost the light in his eye when they met again, fixated on one destructive goal.

Now his eye reflects the orange glow of the fireplace, warm and gentle.

Aleksei takes another glance at the clock; soon it will be midnight. "I hope we can spend New Year's together again next time."

"Mmhm. We will."

***

Soft and Serene

A song envelopes one nameless forest, soft and serene, ringing from a lone piano amidst the trees. As the sable-clad pianist sings through the black and white keys on his fingers, he peers into the hand mirror sitting on the desk in place of a partiture.

In the world beyond the mirror, snow covers the rooftops where the urchins run, either from upset adults or from themselves. Fireworks bloom in the dark sky, filling it with colours that it would not have known otherwise. People laugh and dance in the streets, celebrating a moment to come.

These are things that he is not allowed to partake in, for no matter how he may try, he cannot touch that world.

It brought him sadness before, in a close yet distant past. He longed to be with people again, to find company and escape from solitude, but the forest only had silence and slumbering souls blind to his true face. Even so, he persevered, and fate smiled at him once more: an encounter with a certain silver woman, carrying a similar pale and cold touch. The woman, a traveller of boundaries, spoke to him.

The song keeps on flowing with no sign of stopping, not soon. The piano is his only company now, but when the festivity beyond the mirror ends, his silver friend will return with a new book or several, and they will discuss it together over tea and cake.

He still yearns for that unreachable world, but he is glad to be allowed to wait for someone again. A small promise treated with sanctity, as befitting the tradition of the land. Until it is fulfilled, he will keep singing his soft and serene song.

***

In this time of the year, in this very moment

The end of the year comes approaching once more, and the Silver Lady, too, steps out of the mirror accordingly. Her white dress sweeps, blends with the so-called snow covering the city.

In this time of the year, she can come across those with the same cold touch as hers, delighting her with a particular sense of familiarity. Melancholy will slip into her mind when she dearly remembers only a miracle can overcome their transience, but in this time of the year, in this very moment when the city is embraced in tender coldness, she tries to forget that.

As she glides down the street, every now and then she will steal upward glances toward the towering obsidian spires, bright with fireworks and blazing sigils – the same obsidian as the mask covering her pale complexion, lit up by a joyous revel. When the bells toll for an end and a beginning, a serene whisper escapes from her blue lips, "My sweet home…."

[saturatedworld]

Now also comes in interactive fiction form. Download and play it here.

ONE DAY YOU WILL FORGIVE

Those are the words stamped on the seven-sided coin slipped in the gift box – the gift they received last year, left to gather dust under the bed. Today their partner (how clueless and ignorant) found it and pushed it to them again, and their curiosity got the best of them – they opened the gift box.

Keep reading

[saturatedworld]

ONE DAY YOU WILL FORGIVE

Those are the words stamped on the seven-sided coin slipped in the gift box – the gift they received last year, left to gather dust under the bed. Today their partner (how clueless and ignorant) found it and pushed it to them again, and their curiosity got the best of them – they opened the gift box.

Inside it are a kiseru – long, slim traditional smoking pipe – and its spare parts, a package of tobacco, a small paper detailing the use and care of the pipe, and a single silver coin – its words are a commandment as much as a promise.

Is this a joke? They will not forgive. They cannot forgive. No amount of coins with mystical properties will compel them to. Especially after all he said about not expecting forgiveness, about how he will accept punishment. (A moment of realisation: he wouldn’t do something this sneaky, would he?) Unacceptable. It matters not whether he or his faithful dog put the coin in the box.

A liar. He is a liar. (But they, too, have spun countless lies.) He shouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it. (But they know that he truly meant it, and only circumstances have changed.)

They take the pipe from the box to examine it closely: the wood is of a dark colour, and cherry blossoms are engraved on the silver. It brings to mind a scene from many years ago, a time before they crossed the ocean. (It was delicate and cold and savage.)

“So, who is that from?” asks their tattooed partner.

“A cousin.”

“You have a cousin in this city? Oh, wow!” she exclaims; they make no response. “You’d look good using that.”

“You think so?”

“Uhuh, looks fancy and smart.” She nods as she scans over the paper that came with the gift. “Say, your cousin must be a nice person, eh? Sending you something like this.”

“He is—” They pause, recalling how their cousin thanked them for allowing him another chance. (And remember, how people gathered around him.) They avert their gaze. “I suppose. It’s a pretty good pipe.”

They put the silver seven-sided coin in their pocket. There are worse gifts to receive.

[saturatedworld]

The reflection calling himself Chizuru walks through the Parabolan jungle, away from where his other self is. He takes out a rook from his pocket, holds it tight and close. Red begins to flow from his fingers and soon his hands. The sickening familiarity allows him a kind of calmness, a distraction.

He knew he hated himself, but he did not expect it to be this upsetting to hear it said by himself to his face. He certainly did not expect himself to be so bold.

Suddenly Alyosha’s words, once said to him on the other side of the mirror, surfaced to his mind. That Alyosha will love him in place of the love he cannot give to himself.

“Alyosha, are you there?” He calls out. No answer. Nothing. “I guess not.”

Even in this realm of impossibilities, there are still things that he cannot do easily.

[saturatedworld]

The Drumbeat of War

A final rumble of thunder and Chizuru is soaked with rain. The sky clears. The storm departs, its invitation delivered. He shrugs. “Well then.”

“War!” shouts a lamia slithering out from the now roofless cottage. “It’s finally arrived at my lil’ old home. Maybe the bigger ‘Kings will recognise me as a real full-fledged royal serpent if I can defend it.” The golden-haired youth clings on the drenched man. “You will help me, won’t you? This land you stand on doesn’t come cheap.”

“No, Tiny, I already paid the price, don’t try that now. Remember, Robin doesn’t like greedy landlords,” says Chizuru – the Fingerking gasps. “Beside, the stormcloud said we will be on the side of London – I think it’s best if we act as a neutral party. And personally, I…” He trails off. No further words come from him, but he frowns. War…

“Chizuru-han?” Aleksei, dragging his hundreds of veils along the wet ground, asks, “This doesn’t seem to be within our purview. Do you think we can refuse it?”

“Aleksei, I…” He sighs. “No, I don’t think it’s a good idea to carelessly refuse Parabolan powers, and we might get caught up in it anyway.”

A man arrives at the scene. He looks like Chizuru. He walks like Chizuru. He smells like Chizuru. The only difference is how he still has both of his eyes. Aleksei flinches at the new arrival. When Chizuru himself notices and stares at his double, the second Chizuru offers a deep bow toward the group. “Hello, my apologies for the lack of calling card! I came rushing when I saw the terrible weather all the way from the Chessboard.”

Tiny hisses. “Which Chessboard?”

“None of your business, little one.” He answers with the smile of a fox. He notices the veiled man whispering to his husband. “Now, if I may introduce myself, I am you.”

“You are my reflection,” replies Chizuru.

“That is one way to put it.”

“You are myself who becomes alive on a chessboard – in a game of struggles for intelligence and power.”

“Another way to put it – did you just hear that from your husband?”

A pause, then a single phrase: “I hate you.”

The reflection shrugs. “I hate you too.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I feel compelled to fill what my other self lacks.”

“What I lack? Me? I’d prefer you gone from my sight.”

“Rich, coming from you. Well, you see, I agree! I didn’t hide from you for this long for no reason. But I’ll always be in you. I didn’t come from nothing.”

“It would be better if you weren’t in me. You’ve caused me many regrets I still hold today.”

“And leave your people with no capable leader? Don’t be ridiculous.”

As the bickering continues, Aleksei bits his lip. Is this what it’s like in his husband’s head, with his melancholic airs filtered out? He only thought that telling Chizuru about his reflection would help smooth over the conversation. He steps forward. “Okay, Chizuru-han… both, you should take a step back and��”

“Quiet, Aleksei!” “Silence, Alyosha!”

“Wait, why do you get to call him that? That’s not fair.”

“Ha? Not my fault that you are so awkward you can’t even ask your own husband about his name.”

“I’m respecting his boundary! He doesn’t even know much about himself yet.”

“Me? I’ve been calling my Alyosha that since long.”

“Your Alyosha?!”

“The one that went missing since your Alyosha lingered on this side for too long! He’s terribly shy, don’t you know?”

“Your— Well, of course I know! He can’t do much without his cover identities, but we are working on changing that.”

“...So this is what Chizuru-han thinks of me,” says Aleksei to himself.

“Sounds like he thinks you’re a helpless wallflower of some kind,” replies Tiny.

“Anyway, we are getting sidetracked too far,” says the reflection at last. “Back on topic, you have heard from the stormcloud, right? The wars of Parabola are heading toward this direction. Now be honest, do you actually wish to be involved?”

“I think of all people, you’d know the answer to that without me saying it.”

“And that’s why I’m here. You, my peace-loving self, tired of bloodshed, may stick to diplomatic and strategic works. I shall take over the reign – defend the fort and lead the campaigns. Meanwhile you can stay in this nice little cottage—” He pauses as he remembers what the storm did to the area, and makes gestures with his hand. “It will be nice again very soon, and you can keep it as a safe resting space in your fight for our cause, as it has always been.”

“...Right.” Chizuru nods; his head feels heavy. “I know you – I’ve been you. I don’t like you.”

“I don’t like you too.”

“But you’re myself who is best at this work. You won’t… you won’t sacrifice people needlessly, right?”

“‘Need’ is something that will be defined as we go, but yes.”

“I will trust that our values are not too different, so without… well, what makes me me, you should be able to reach decisions faster, and I hope that will also lead to less casualties on both sides—”

“Both sides?” The reflection scoffs, “Come on, now. This is war.”

“Yeah, d__n those savage cats!”

“Tiny, again, we will be a neutral party.”

“Yes, but I’m a Fingerking.”

“Okay, but what is this for you?” Chizuru asks his reflection again, ignoring the serpent. “What do you want, suddenly showing up now?”

The reflection shrugs again. “Well, as I said earlier, I just feel compelled to help you toward your ideal, even if my very nature is the opposite of it. I can do what you normally lack the will for. Like it or not, I’ve helped in keeping you around for this long.”

“You don’t want anything else? This sounds too good to be true.”

“What? I’m not some kind of malicious spirit that causes damage without rhyme or reason. You know it’s not in our nature to.”

“It’s exactly because it’s not in our nature that I’m concerned.”

“You got me there. Well, you said I’m you who become alive on the chessboard, right? That’s correct, and with that I’m also the part of you who was born a ruler – the king of one chessboard, if you will. And I think, in order to become an effective ruler, one needs a semblance of power. Are you following me so far?”

“Regretfully.”

“I wish to fulfill my calling as a king.”

“Do you know how much I wish to shed that shell?”

“I do. But I’m your reflection. I will be the opposite of your desire in some manner, and we complete each other that way.”

“Aleksei?” Chizuru turns toward his husband and advisor. “What do you think?”

“...I’ve heard a saying in my stay in this land: one ought to be responsible for their reflection, what your reflection does will be accounted as yours.” A sudden breeze; Aleksei’s veils flutter. He continues, “I’ve never met mine, though.”

“Wise,” says Tiny.

“Alyosha is right. You won’t be able to escape the war completely; I’m still an extension of you, after all,” says the reflection. “Actually I was expecting you to check on me at some point. That’s what I would do.”

“...Right. Right. I understand now.” Chizuru sighs. “I don’t like the idea of relying on… on you, but I will take the offer. I have enough on my plate in the Is already, and I never wanted to be part of the conflicts in this land to begin with, so…”

Chizuru trails off, but his reflection doesn’t need him to complete his words to know. “Understood. Our feelings about our methods may differ, but I won’t betray you.”

With that concluded, his fox-like smile returns to his face. “Well, thank you for your time! I’m glad it turned out to be a productive conversation.”

“If I may ask…” Aleksei raises his voice again, “Are you still looking for your Alyosha?”

That one question was enough to melt the air around the reflection into a familiar melancholy. “Perhaps I am.” He turns and walks away.

The second storm is finally gone, and Tiny has left too, both their amusement and cosy cottage no more. With just him and Aleksei left, Chizuru is finally able to relax. He leans on his husband’s shoulder, whispering, “Tired.”

“Yes. But our cottage is gone.”

“I want to go home. To London. Eat Vera’s cooking.”

“Okay. I hope our mirror is safe.”

“I want to see Camellia.”

“Okay.”

“We will get dragged into this war anyway, right? Just like today.”

“Unfortunately, we probably will.”

“Stay with me.”

“Of course.”

[saturatedworld]

The Green and the Grey

Loud and low knocks, sing a song of what shall come to pass. The door opens, and the green-eyed youth enters. Only then he noticed the man opening the door for him, many-layered veils covering his upper half. “Oh, you are… Mr Chizuru’s husband.”

“Greetings.”

“Wait, it’s only you here?” asks Robin as he takes off his cap. “I thought Wren would be here before me.”

“Chizuru-han still has work to do,” replies the veiled man as he gets back to his chair and folding papers. “I haven’t seen Wren.”

“Oh, I see. Probably forgot about the meeting today, then,” replies Robin with a pout, now standing by the counter at the back of the small room. His hands reach for a cup and sugar jar. “Corn probably will be late too; the dockers have been rowdy lately, brawling over shipment crates again.”

“So I heard.”

“Did you hear about the incident at Flowerdene Street too? Awful, what happened to the factory workers. Not that Mr Fires would do anything to prevent it from happening again, though.”

“Unfortunate, indeed.”

For once, Robin regrets coming to the base-camp early. Never before he guessed he would be alone with this person – terse, unopinionated, difficult to approach. It’s difficult to imagine he is a spy like his husband. Aren’t spies supposed to be more socially flexible? Robin’s hand stops stirring his tea as something comes to his mind.

He turns toward the veiled man, who is in the middle of folding paper cranes. “Er, this is a little rude, but what is your name again? I thought it was something else, but this morning I saw someone called you ‘Yuri’...”

Did that question make the man’s veils thicker? A moment passes before he finally lifts his veils, locks eyes with Robin, and says, “I can’t decide if you are wise or foolish.”

“Sorry?”

“That question could’ve gotten you permanently killed for knowing too much in a different situation.” He continues, “You are not the kind of person who would forget.”

“Well, what if I… did forget….” Robin’s voice trails off as his face and ears turn red. The man is right; he asked out of mere curiosity and let it show in his words.

“I hope you have learned your lesson,” says the man, returning to his paper cranes.

“D-Don’t tell Mr Chizuru about this. Please,” asks Robin, his voice still low in embarrassment.

Silence envelops the room. Robin sips his tea, any thoughts about engaging in a conversation with the person before him evaporating along with the steam. Awkward, terribly so. When will the others show up?

“Why do you want to learn about espionage?”

“Huh? Me?” Of course it was directed toward Robin, but he didn’t expect to receive that question. He can’t see the man’s face, but he can feel the expecting gaze coming from behind the veils. “Well, I… I just want to be useful.” His eyes shy away from contact. “Not sure if you already knew, but I have a weak constitution. I grow tired easier than most people. I’m not athletic like Wren, and I’m not good at making and fixing things like Corn. So Mr Chizuru asked me if I want to learn how to collect, process, and put information to use, and here I am now.”

“Has he ever said why you?”

Robin winces at the question. “I asked once. He just said he ought to make himself useful too. Looked sad about it, but he always has that air about him.” The youth stops, frowns, lets a buried thought out, “I think it was just convenience. I get the feeling from how he acts that he doesn’t intend to be always here, but doesn’t want to leave the cell shepherdless either. And I was the only one without a defined role.” His expression softens. “A convenience, but I still feel glad that he cares.”

No more questions, but no more folding paper cranes either. They just sit in silence together, until Robin taps on the table. “Well, is that all you want to know? Mr Chizuru is really the only thing you’re interested in, huh? Isn’t he the entire reason you’re here?”

“I’m just thinking….” A pause, then a sigh. “Maybe Chizuru-han made the right decision in choosing you. You see, he calls me a bad spy sometimes. He can see through how everything about me was faked.”

“Ohh, is he that good?” He dodged the question, but Robin has no particular need to hear the answer from him – not with how he wanders into talking about his Chizuru-han.

He shakes his head. “He’s simply more in touch with his humanity than I am. I’m here because I still need to learn. But someone like you might be able to understand what makes his approach, and perhaps one of his regrets will be no longer. As for the question of my name….” He lifts his veils again – some even fall off like old feathers. “I am ‘Yuri’. I also have been ‘Aaron’, ‘Nikola’, and ‘George’, among other names. But more importantly, I am ‘Aleksei’. Does that suffice?”

“And ‘Aleksei’ is what he calls you by. I see.” Robin hums. Wait, what did the veiled man say just now again? Something about humanity? “Hold on, hold on. Are you telling me that when you’re not faking an identity you’re just awful at being a person?”

A hesitating, quiet nod.

“My Lord, I thought you were just being rude.”

For a moment, his veils appear to look denser than before. “Perhaps I should have brought a crafted identity when I first entered this room. It would’ve made getting along with everyone easier,” admits the man. He takes a paper crane, turning it around in his hands. A couple more of the veils fall off to the floor. “But I want to make something of the name he calls me by. Not something scripted by convenience, but something that will always belong to me.” Another pause, then a frown. “I really am a bad spy.”

“Surprisingly adorable, aren’t you?”

“Mmhm, I will take that as a compliment. Thank you.”

***

“By the way, I noticed you pronounce his name well.”

“He wants me to read and write his codes. In Japanese. Please tell him to reconsider.”

[saturatedworld]

Him, by the Chessboard

Today, too, Aleksei makes his way to the Moonlit Chessboard. The path forward has learned his presence, opening up before the tree branches and roots can catch the many-layered veils covering him. He departed with his usual intention: from here, where the impossible dwells, he will influence events to help his beloved.

When he arrives, the first thing to catch his sight isn't the board itself, but a familiar figure standing by it. Slicked back hair, a haori softening his silhouette. As Aleksei closes their distance, as his veils come shedding off, the smell of freshly brewed tea grows stronger. "Chizuru-han? What are you doing here?"

The figure turns around. Not him. He wears the same smell and smile, but it's not him. This Chizuru has both of his eyes. "I am me. This is where I belong. And you?" He asks, "Are you Alyosha?"

The veils thicken again. "...Chizuru-han never calls me that."

"So you are the one who came from the other side." He sits on a fallen pawn and sighs. "You have become more like my Alyosha now, and I have yet to see him in a while. Have you thought about that? How you have overstayed your welcome? What if my Alyosha never comes back?"

The hands in contact with the pawn begin to drip red. Blood? Whose blood? If this was the Chizuru he knew, Aleksei would have rushed over to make sure the man hasn't hurt himself again. Instead he asks, "Your Alyosha? What are you talking about? What are you?"

The man gives a deep stare, then a smile. "I'm Chizuru. More precisely, I'm the Chizuru repressed by the 'real' Chizuru. Tucked deep in his mind, given form in this land." He stands and climbs to the board, offering a crimson hand to his guest. "Come. You came here for a game, did you not? The pieces have yet to gather, but we can chat while we wait."

No response. Met with silence, he shrugs and walks over to E8. There, he continues, "Well, it's not that I have forgotten about me. You have seen it too, haven't you? My efficiency, or as my other self would put it, my ruthlessness. Things would be so much better if he would just embrace me."

"Do you really believe that?" asks Aleksei. He tries to look into the red-handed Chizuru's eyes, but the pieces have started to gather, obstructing his view.

The pieces chatter idly, and Chizuru joins them, measuring allegiances before the game begins. When Aleksei thinks he will not receive an answer, the red-handed speaks in a quiet voice, "Perhaps not." He admits, "But it's in my nature to wonder if the alternative could be better."

"I see," mutters Aleksei under his veils. "I suppose I will take a day off today."

"Goodbye, then."

It is still Chizuru, after all. And if this is Chizuru, then the nickname he uses...

"Yes, he wished to call you that." The red-handed answers before the question could be voiced, "And I will call you that in this dream world, in place of my earnestly awkward self."

The veils covering him begin to come off again. Before anyone sees, he turns around with a parting wish, "I hope your Alyosha will come back soon."

[saturatedworld]

Hallowmas 1898 Confession

The Duke asks for a confession of love, of the heart's tenderness and its disloyalty. You give him as much as you are able: love comes in many kinds, and its betrayals are numberless.

"My mother's love was pure, there was no lie in it. At least, that's what I choose to believe."

"I may have loved my father, though we could never see eye to eye until the end."

"Nagato... I'm sorry, it was my fault that I couldn't gather the courage to choose you."

"I loved and made love, but it was all empty, and they all died away."

"Then I met him. I fell for him. It would be a lie to say I never wanted him for myself. But I have taken so much from that child, I must never take more."

"I lost an eye because of love and hatred so blinding. To my surprise, it has taught me new joys since."

"I'm not a good spy, and neither is he."

...

An anonymous confession printed in a newspaper. Was it written with a purpose in mind?

The board taught me: love is a fragile thing; it struggles to survive the winter. Yet I still yearn for it, I cannot look away from it, and if I am a fool for this, I am glad to have someone equally foolish by my side. When this confession comes to light, we would have met among the statues and pagodas to swear an oath.

[saturatedworld]

Parabolan Reflections

Employ the Reflection of the Scarlet Playwright

Just a moment ago, you saw them taking a nap in your laboratory on the other side of the mirror.

Catlike insight

Is this their true self, and not a mere reflection? They just smile when you inquire, continues making observations about your current project and prodding at the weak points of your theory.

Here in Parabola, their hair has grown, swaying like the branches of a willow tree, and the dress they wear is even more elaborate than what they have worn in reality. They are accompanied by panthers, their red eyes now matching theirs.

You've gained [10 + (Glass Studies)] x Parabolan Research.

———————

Employ the Reflection of the Rueful Ex-Diplomat

His reflection looks almost identical as reality, but his eyes are whole and his air of melancholy no longer persists.

Bloody-handed

He sits in front of a chessboard, arranging the pieces silently. When you ask your questions, he invites you to a chess game, claiming it will help him see the full picture more clearly. Blood drips from his hand every time he removes a piece, staining both the board and his notes.

You've gained [5 + (Glass Studies) + (A Player’s Studies)] x Parabolan Research.

———————

Visit the Reflection of the Feathered Archaeologist

Her reflection is a worn statue, the features torn and cracked, but you know the ravens perching on her.

Interpreters

Her statue self can’t speak, but her ravens can. Their answers are concise with a hint of foolhardiness, and they tend to relate back to prelapsarian matters. They always take a look at the statue they perch on before answering any question.

You've gained [5 + (Glass Studies)] x Parabolan Research.

You've gained 2 x Expertise of the Second City.

You've gained 2 x Expertise of the Third City.

[saturatedworld]

“But that is why—”

Aleksei knows this place. This vast whiteness, contrasted by black bark. This is a dream which may not be a dream. He remembers: he ingested a certain pill from his superior before he went to sleep. Right. He steps forward. He ought to find what must be done in the woods.

———————

Not too long ago, he hinted at a long held desire in a correspondence: he wished to be stationed in the fallen city of London. He did not state his reason, but for anyone who knew his history, there was only one possibility.

He was aware this wish would not be granted easily, painfully so. Still, he worked hard for it. With each visit to the city, he would bring back more valuable, desirable information.

At last, he received a small package in his lodgings in Vienna. It contained a translucent pill, silvery liquid with a hint of emerald inside it. Alongside it was a short message: “Prove.”

———————

The wind blows; a sharp coldness bites his uncovered skin. He shivers. The path is just as barren and harsh as he remembers it, it’s almost nostalgic.

He knows this place. He has been here before. Once, in the imagined woods, he chased after and killed himself again and again. In another time, he chased after the shadow who taught him his art and put it to an end too. Each time, he would emerge from the woods as a new person, with a new fake name, new forged past, new uncertain future.

He continues walking through the snow, a single question in his mind: should the worst possible scenario happen, is there another way to solve this task?

———————

“You are not a good spy, aren’t you?” That man said in a gentle dialect, almost like a song. His position as the head of the family wasn’t just for show; if the rumours were right, this man had lived his whole life spying and spied on, all in a dutiful dance with death. It was no wonder he saw through the young agent.

After that, the man never said a word about the agent’s true identity anymore. It was the opposite: he invited the agent into his life with his words and actions. The agent learned more about the man, about the circumstances surrounding his succession, about his desire to bring change to his family and country, about the ‘Queen’ he fell in love with on the chessboard.

There was no telling which stories were true and which were false at first – feeding your enemy with false information is a tried-and-true tactic in the war of intelligence, after all. The agent raised his guard and continued to move carefully. Regardless, something about the man began to captivate him, and eventually a wish to return the man’s invitation grew.

Ah, he realised, but he had nowhere to invite the man to.

———————

“Oh, Aleksei! Never expected to see you here.”

“Chizuru-han… why are you here?”

He thought he had found his target behind the veil of snow and wind. He had approached with the intent to kill, but this was not the person he expected. No, he didn't want to expect this. He grimaces.

“I was looking for this little one since it couldn’t find its way home. I got too worried to sleep properly,” Chizuru answers. Within his cradle is a sorrow-spider the size of a cat, wrapped in a blanket.

That is just like him.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, it’s dangerous,” says Aleksei. “Come on, I will walk you home.”

“You are right. Thank you.”

This is a dream. Please let this be no more than a dream. The last thing he will do is to hurt the man by his side. Of course this ends up being the task. It should have been obvious. It must have been obvious to anyone but him. This is why he is—

“You are not a good spy, you know?” says Chizuru suddenly, his voice gentle as ever. “Why don’t you quit?”

Aleksei stares, dumbstruck. Did he read his mind? After composing himself again, he lets out a small laugh. “As if it was that easy.”

This should have been easy. There are only the two of them and a weakened sorrow-spider now. Chizuru keeps only one weapon on his person: a dagger hidden under the sleeve of his left arm, and the competence to use it. His fatal weakness is his lack of will to fight. Unfortunately for Aleksei, he can feel this very person draining away his will to fight as well.

Will it just end like this? With him unable to prove the worthiness of his wish? For now, the woods of black and white still seem vast and endless.

“You have a point, Chizuru-han,” says Aleksei, pocketing his freezing hands. “But unlike you, I don’t know anything beyond this trade.”

“I wonder.” Chizuru rushes a few steps ahead and turns around again. The wind blows, and he glows in the light reflected by snow. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to kill me?”

Aleksei sighs. “There you go speaking like that again…”

“You can’t fool me,” says Chizuru without taking his eye off Aleksei. “It’s a pale reflection, but this is still that place. And I’m not a spy now, but you are. There is only one reason why we are here.”

“Chizuru-han…”

“There is no need to hesitate. You have something you wish to see beyond the woods, don’t you? If it’s by your hand, I…”

“No,” says Aleksei with a wince. “That isn’t the answer. That isn’t it. Stop speaking like that.” His hand shivers as it grips on the folded knife in his pocket. “Please.”

Aleksei freezes in his place. If he killed Chizuru, he would lose his only human connection. If he killed himself, he would lose his current self. Either choice will cost him his chance to have a place to belong. What should he do now?

“Truly, you are not a good spy, Aleksei.” Before Aleksei noticed, Chizuru now stands right in front of him again. “But that is why I like you.” Those words, that voice, they are a lullaby to Aleksei’s ears, melting his uncertainties away.

Slowly, Aleksei brings out the folded knife from his pocket – it glints with cold light. Chizuru tilts his head as he watches. The knife falls from Aleksei’s hand, and it sinks and disappears into the snow.

“Is that your answer?” asks Chizuru.

Aleksei nods. “Sorry, we have to part ways here. But I swear I will go to your side, I will find another way.” He takes the man’s hand and declares, “So please wait for me.”

“Yes, I will,” answers Chizuru with a smile.

A harsh wind blows, once again raising the white veils in the woods. The two stand firmly as the black barks around them do. It will not be easy, but we will meet again.

“Ah, by the way,” says Aleksei before he loses sight of the other man. “You aren’t a good spy either!”

Chizuru blinks, then laughs. “No, I’m not.”

Yes, we certainly will.

[saturatedworld]

Checkmate

The Feast of the Exceptional Rose comes to a close again this year, and once more, there he sits in the living room wearing a cat mask.

“So...” Chizuru begins while stirring his tea, “Are you here to end my life today?”

Leonard takes off his mask, his expression sour. Instead of answering, he wolves down the macarons and tea without regard to appearance. And he still looks at the host with contempt.

“Oh, do you like that? It’s from the new bakery down the street.” Chizuru asks, noticing how fast the macarons disappear from its plate.

“Shut up. You tick me off.” Leonard snaps.

“E-Eh…? Then should I have not brought out the tea? Should we have gotten straight to the point?”

“In the first place who on earth would serve refreshments to their would be murderer? Bloody airhead.” Leonard takes another sip of his tea and grumbles, “It’s unbelievable how dear father died to make someone like you into the head of the family.”

“Ah, I know right. What a turn of event.” Chizuru places down his cup of tea, untouched.

“And you dared to throw it all away and show your face to me.”

“...I'm sorry.”

“You disgust me. My dear father deserved better. I wish I could kill you.”

He wished he could. The meaning of those words pricks Chizuru's heart.

“I knew I should’ve killed you the moment we first met again. I shouldn’t have let you loose. It’s always like this, you and your charm. People will run to side with you. Always, always, always…”

“You… should kill me anyway,” murmurs Chizuru.

“And get everyone suspicious and hate me?” Leonard hisses. “Just so you know, since I came to this city, I've rebuilt everything from scratch. I built my own rich, my own reputation, my own connections. Everything. Do you intend to steal my hard work away? Destroy it? Again? Just like what you did to my father and I back then? I hate you. I hate you so much. And I hate even more that I can’t touch you.”

“I don’t understand either,” says Chizuru weakly, casting his sight down. “I thought it was my value as the heir, then as the head of the family. But now I have nothing, there are still people who…”

Leonard stares at his cousin with a look of annoyance and contempt. "There is a limit to ignorance, did you know that? And you somehow—"

The verbal lashing Chizuru prepared himself for never came. When he looks at the young man again, the latter is staring at the door leading to the dining room.

Leonard stands from his seat. With light footsteps, he walks toward the door and opens it, revealing a scarred housemaid and a certain visitor from the surface. The three of them exchange looks.

“Chizuru-han!” The visitor suddenly shouts, “I told you to not give in to your cousin’s demands, didn’t I?! And we will find a way to keep you alive?! You are worthy, Chizuru-han! So don’t give in!”

Leonard frowns. “You have a noisy dog.”

“Who are you calling a dog?!”

“You heard him, Aleksei. Please quiet down...” says Chizuru from his seat.

Aleksei gasps. He looks as if he was about to say something, but instead he goes to seat himself right next to Chizuru, glaring at the other guest.

Leonard folds his arms, watching Aleksei go. He then asks the housemaid, “So do you have anything to say too?”

“Yeah, the master is lax and pays well. It’s hard to find employment as comfortable as this one, so I’d appreciate it if you let him live and keep paying me.” She answers, one hand resting on her hip. (“Is that how you view me, Vera? A bank?” mutters Chizuru.)  Her sight diverted from Leonard, she adds, "But more importantly, mum would be disappointed if she heard of you killing a family member. Really disappointed.”

Leonard gives no reply as he observes the people in the room; the person he hates the most and the people drawn to him. He knew that already. How much he would pay for a fraction of that innate talent. He knew, that is why—

“A checkmate.” Chizuru tilts his head. “Is that what you are thinking now?”

With a click of his tongue, Leonard replies, “That’s right! Are you happy now? I can’t kill you. It’s my loss.”

A sad smile surfaces to Chizuru’s face. “I’m sorry, Leonard.”

“I don’t need your pity,” hisses Leonard.

“That’s right, Chizuru-han!” injects Aleksei. “Be more—” He swings his fist in the air in place of words. Leonard scoffs.

A chuckle escapes from Chizuru’s mouth. “That is not needed now.” With that, he returns his attention to his cousin. “Perhaps it’s arrogant of me to say this, but I don’t wish for us to remain enemies. I’m too tired to keep up with you, too tired for another game of chess. So if you won’t kill me…”

“I won’t forgive you for what you did,” says Leonard. “Never.”

Chizuru only smiles.

Leonard takes his mask from the table and puts it back on. As he puts his hand on the door, he hears his cousin calls for him again, followed with: “Thank you, for giving me another chance.”

Something stirs inside him, something sickening. Leonard leaves without turning back even once. Laci and the Madam better be happy for his decision.

[saturatedworld]

Thus began a cycle of bond and blood

(This was written as an entry for Memories of Fallen London Competition, Best Headcanon of the Decade category.)

"A Licentiate's list cannot be given, only taken." This is the first rule in this profession. A small group of Licentiates realized: there is no rule against them working together to groom a particular kind of successors. That was the beginning of their little organization. The basic of it is simple: these elite assassins will take in pupils, and a pupil graduates when they have successfully killed one of the mentors, claimed their list of aliases, writ in gant.

More than that, little about them is known for certain. They educate their pupils to fit into any kind of society unnoticed. They adopt pupils only when the flight of bats is right. They have Jack-of-Smiles as a member. They know how to kill a Master. They have a working relationship with the Civet. They name their pupils after birds. And so the rumours go one after another.

Next time, take a look around you. Perhaps the orphanage on your way to work is a part of the organization. Perhaps that philanthropist you have heard of is a member of it. Perhaps your neighbour or friend is a graduate from the organization. Perhaps you will be their next target.

[saturatedworld]

The Starveling Case

The number of Starveling Cats that Leonard gives shelter to multiplied significantly in one night. The fog was thick, his stock of souls depleting, and the cats kept showing up one by one, hissing and screeching. Just where did they come from?

His curiosity tickled, he began following the trail left behind by the cats. It was easier than he expected; in their wake, the cats left behind filth, fur, scratch marks, and the occasional Society ladies weeping over torn clothing article. In any other day, this would not be as noticeable.

Soon enough, he found the source of the felines. An abandoned house. A dark cellar. Empty bottles scattered about. Beasts born from an esoteric ritual. He saw no one, but he recognised what was left of the ritual from the days when he listened to the whispers of a well. He also found a piece of paper, his address written on it. What is this? A prank? No, a gift? Who would do this on purpose?

After a series of investigations, he discovered the previous owner of the house had left London for good. The vile cats are his now.

[saturatedworld]

“There will still be something beautiful.”

(This was written as an entry for Memories of Fallen London Competition, Co-Operative Play of the Decade category.)

There was a time when Leonard believed the world was built on lies and betrayals. He would don his lilac robe, then spin the thread of deception. He was far from the only one – a betrayal stole his beloved father from him, after all. The world was a sickening place. That time, he believed he would be the one to bring a reckoning – first to this city, then to the world. Let them all be damned.

After a certain sacrifice, he found himself sheltered by a kind woman, and that led to his encounter with that man. That man was around the same age as him. He was bitter, filthy, and foul-mouthed. Leonard found him irritating, very much so, but somehow he came to enjoy their banters. Perhaps it was the raw honesty, but no matter the reason, the feeling was mutual. It was the beginning of something new for them.

As his quest dragged him down deeper, he realised: he doesn’t want to hurt this man. When the man confessed affection to him, he hurled hurtful words, trying to chase him away. Better late than never, he thought..When the reckoning is coming, that man would know who is behind it.

He left their house to distant himself further. Even so, even as he pushed himself closer towards destruction, more questions filled his mind. “Is this the right thing?” “Is this what I truly want?” “What was it that I want?” Revenge. A reckoning. But why did the face of that man come to his mind?

The realisation was followed by an affirmation. He no longer believes in his hateful wish. He knew he had to go back. To London, where his newfound family awaits. To Vlad Cristea, his dearest love.

[saturatedworld]

After a Dream of Death

As soon as the door of the townhouse was closed, the first thing that the visitor did was drop his suitcase and begin touching the host allover. “Aleksei,” calls Chizuru, the host, bemused by the sudden development. “This can count as harassment.”

“No new wound, new scar, or new broken bone.” Aleksei mumbles to himself. He holds the host’s chin and gives just enough pressure to signal him to open his mouth – the tongue was marked with ink in a strange shape. Aleksei stares inside and concludes, “At least it doesn’t grow larger.”

“It’s a tattoo, why would it?”

At once, Aleksei grabs the man’s shoulders and looks at him in the eye. “You did it, didn’t you? I heard from my intel. What you came here for.”

Chizuru at first only returns his gaze, unmoving, before answering, “I did it.” His expression softens into somberness. “I did it. I avenged Nagato.”

He did it. Those words, that confirmation, slowly sink in. “Do you…” Aleksei’s hands run down Chizuru’s arms. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, squeezing Chizuru’s hands slightly. Chizuru gives a small, quiet nod. “Let’s sit down first.” Aleksei says while guiding the other man, “Don’t worry about courtesy and such for now.”

After sitting down on the couch, Chizuru only stares down blankly. Aleksei can’t help worrying, was it a bad idea to ask about that matter? The silence was momentarily broken when a glaring housemaid showed up to bring them tea – she must have noticed Aleksei’s arrival. The master has been acting like this as of late, so the housemaid whispered to Aleksei’s ear. Worrying.

“That Cups…” Chizuru breathes. Aleksei’s ears perk up and he put down his cup of tea at once, waiting. Steam lightly floats up from Chizuru’s untouched cup. It took another silence before he continues, “It tried to bargain for its life, offered to bring Nagato back to life in exchange for mercy. I wonder if I should have accepted it. But I couldn’t. I hate it. And I couldn’t bear the thought of Nagato hating me.”

“Hate you?” A slight frown forms on Aleksei’s face. “Why would he?”

“The ‘Chi-chan’ that Nagato loved was a kind person. He did all he could to prevent anger and hatred from consuming him. He tried to save as many people as possible, no matter how much they have sinned. He never gave up, never feared, no matter how difficult…” Chizuru trails off, then mumbles, “I’m no longer any of those.”

“That is not—”

“You must have heard, Aleksei,” injects Chizuru, “If nothing else, about how I killed the spies in this city in a misguided sense of justice.” He looks down to his hands. “It was unforgivable. And I have killed even more in my revenge. At the end, I’m no better than Cups. I disposed pawns – people with their own lives and dreams – I disposed of them as I saw fit. I should be de—”

“Don’t say that!” In that single moment, Aleksei’s voice filled the room. His fists are now clenched tight. “Please.” He adds.

“Yes,” mutters Chizuru. “I don’t understand why you value my life so much. It’s not just you, too. Vlad, Robin, Vera…” He trails off again, bites his lip. “I don’t understand what is so special about myself. The resources used to keep me alive can be used to help someone else more worthwhile.”

“I think you are worthwhile, Chizuru-han.” Aleksei says, never taking his eyes off Chizuru’s. “Perhaps you are no longer exactly the same person as you were, but isn’t the fact you’re hurting and regretting now means you still have kindness in yourself? You can understand the pain of those wronged, those left behind; you can hope for and work toward something better. Would Cups have felt the same, had you let it live?”

Another silence. Chizuru fidgets with his fingers. Aleksei takes another sip of his tea as he waits.

“It would not,” mutters Chizuru at last. “It admitted no remorse. It was even prideful enough to give no apology. I hate it. It was everything I hate.”

“Do you…” Aleksei trails off for a short moment, looking for the right word to say. “...hate yourself?” Blunt, perhaps. But it suffices.

For the first time in that conversation, Chizuru is looking at Aleksei again, eye wide. Quietly, Aleksei’s hand reaches for Chizuru’s head, caressing him. Ah, there is a glimmer in Chizuru’s eye at last. That glimmer trickles down, like a falling star.

He pulls the man into an embrace, closely, tightly. “Listen to me, Chizuru-han. Ideally, I wish for you to love yourself. I wish for you to see for yourself what charms you have. I believe in you, Chizuru-han. But even if you can’t do that, even if this terrible world prevents you to, I will still love you. I will make up for that love you lack, so at the very least, please live on for my sake.”

“...Aleksei,” he whispers, “I…”

Realising what he had said, Aleksei with no warning separated himself from Chizuru. “O-Of course I mean I love you platonically!” He blabbers on, “And your friends must think similarly too! Yes! Live for us!” Ah, he has done it. He has made a mess of himself. It would be even harder cover it now. When he recovers a part of his courage to steal a look at Chizuru again, he sees Chizuru’s eye and cheeks red. His eye is no doubt red from crying, and his cheeks red from… He has never seen this face before. It’s almost adorable if not for this awkwardness.

A chuckle. Then a giggle. And, at last, a laugh. Chizuru is laughing. Aleksei, both embarrassed and glad, says nothing. “Haha. Hahaha. You made me remember, there was another reason why I couldn’t accept Cups’ bargain, though I realised it only after the fact.”

“W-What is it?” asks Aleksei, having calmed down enough to speak coherently again.

Chizuru wipes his wet eye with the sleeve of his haori. “It would have put you in a tough spot, after I invited you to live together with me.”

Nevermind, Aleksei can feel it; he will turn into a mush again now.

“Well,” says Aleksei, trying his best to keep himself together. “Neither of us made promises…”

“But I meant it.” Chizuru insists, “If I have to keep enduring everything, I want you by my side.”

Aleksei looks at Chizuru, looks away and sighs. He looks again and looks down. He scratches his head and asks with a quiet voice, “What… do you mean by that?”

“What?”

“Do you…” He can’t ask this while looking at him, no. “Do you love me too? Maybe a little beyond platonically…” Just what is he doing? He shouldn’t be doing any of this, and yet…

Chizuru doesn’t give an immediate answer, but he holds Aleksei’s hands. He holds them, and says, “Thank you, Aleksei. I don’t know if I will be able to live up to your expectations. Frankly, I still don’t know what I want to do now. Perhaps one day I will crack and fall again, but for now, thank you. Thank you for never giving up on me.”

“That’s not…” Aleksei trails off and sighs again. This time, a smile follows after. “Nevermind. You are welcome too.”

[saturatedworld]

A Difficult Request

“Aleksei, listen. I think I will be able to wrap up my business here soon. After that, I can return to the surface with you, back to my homeland.”

The man called Aleksei simply stares down the bedridden man and sighs.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“You have a death wish, don’t you?” Aleksei answers, “You’re all smile, but it’s clear as day.”

“Ah,” Chizuru chuckles. “How did you figure that out?”

“Chi-zu-ru-han, anyone who has been in the Neath for too long will die to sunlight. Moreover you have died and returned to life as well. It’s obvious.” Aleksei says, a finger tapping on the bedside cabinet. A packet of medicines and a piece of cloth sit on it. “Furthermore, I heard from your cousin that you have promised your life to him.”

A minute of silence passed before Chizuru’s face lightens up with realization. “Oh, yes! I did make such bargain with Leonard! How could I have forgotten? Goodness, I have so many things in my mind…”

“...He would be upset if he heard that.”

“For sure.”

Hearing Chizuru’s light tone, Aleksei sighs again. “It’s just as Konoe used to say. Give you a reason, and if there is no one to stop you, you would even jump into a pit of snakes.” He leans back, arms folded. “No, this is beyond that.”

Chizuru says nothing to it, but looks away from his friend, stares off at the wall. His smile fades. “But it’s true that I will wrap up my business soon. My purpose will be fulfilled by it, and I will have no more reason to linger here.”

“How about your child?”

“Vera has taken a great liking to Camellia. She is a dependable woman, I can trust them to her.”

“The revolutionaries you’re acquainted with?”

“They said their disapproval to my face. Cowards. I will no longer be welcome, but I’ve decided to pursue this path until the end.”

“The few friends you have made?”

“I’m sure they will understand.”

“Well, I don’t understand.”

Chizuru looks back at the man by his side. His expression is impassive, but those words spoke otherwise. His smile returns. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

The big man now scratches his head in frustration. He has no idea what to do with the man in front of him. Perhaps if that person was here, he would be able to…

“Enough about myself, Aleksei.” Chizuru says, looking at his visitor intently. “How about you? Shouldn’t you return to Vienna soon? Just as you said, you will be stuck if you linger here for too long.”

“It will be fine, I can stay for one more day before my last ship for the Canal.”

“Oh.” Chizuru looks away again. “Don’t push yourself. I will be fine, don’t worry about me.”

“You should listen to your own advice for once.”

Chizuru stares off again. His expression is calm. His eye still lightless. For all the time Aleksei has known him, there was only person he would listen to without question. Chizuru must know, that person will not return from death even if he avenged him. So why—

“Aleksei, thank you for taking care of me for all these years.”

“Huh? It’s nothing, really... “ He replies. Chizuru said that, but he doesn’t even look at Aleksei.

“I wonder,” Chizuru continues, still looking away, “Would you still care for me if I wasn’t an important person?”

“What do you mean?”

“Say, if I wasn’t a viscount. If I wasn’t a diplomat. If I didn’t have any important connection. Would you still…?”

What is he trying to say? “Of course I would. You’re an important friend.”

“But you are a spy. Should you be wasting your time on a pawn without use?”

“No, I suppose not.” Aleksei scratches his head again. “But you are—”

You are worth more than any pawn for me.

Aleksei can’t say that. He knew he shouldn’t even have thought of it. Perhaps he should arrange to receive St Joshua’s blessing that spies down here make use of. Still—

Chizuru is looking at him again now, with a smile so tender. “I just wanted to confirm.”

“Confirm… what?”

“Vera told me, you know.” He takes off his sight from the visitor. “You barely left my bedside when I passed out. You were also the one who called a doctor for me. Even now, you still wouldn’t budge.” He chuckles, then says with a quiet voice, “I just thought, what you have done for me is more than what any old friend would do.”

Ah. Did he catch on? He can feel it. Aleksei can feel something stirring inside of him. Before he knew it, his hand has grabbed Chizuru’s. It’s rough. Chizuru’s hand is rough with scars. This isn’t the hand someone of his upbringing should’ve had.

“Aleksei?”

“Please don’t die.” He whispers, looking down at the floor. It will be fine, he should be allowed to say this much.

For a moment, Chizuru merely looks at his visitor, unable to get a clear look at him. “That is a difficult request. Leonard will not accept that.”

“I will negotiate with him.” Aleksei says. “Just.. Please don’t die. Return safely. Don’t hurt yourself anymore, Chizuru-han.” Would the man listen if those words are spoken in his mother tongue? Just like how that person used to speak to him?

A gentle touch caresses Aleksei’s head. When he looks up, Chizuru is still looking at him with that tender look. A sad eye, and a resigned smile on his soft lips. Aleksei knew he shouldn’t be looking at this. This won’t be forgiven. But he can’t take his eyes off the man before him.

“Nagato used to soothe me like that when I was troubled.” Chizuru replies in the same tongue, as if returning the favour.

This is too much for Aleksei. His grip on Chizuru’s hand tightens. His heart is racing. His face must be flushing red.

“I can’t make any promises, but if… if I return alive, if Leonard give up on my life, would you like to live with me here?” Chizuru asks, and a chuckle follows. “It’s just as you said, I will keep stumbling into trouble after trouble when there is no one to keep me grounded.”

“I can’t make promises either.” Aleksei utters the most detached response he can produce.

“I understand.” Chizuru squeezes Aleksei’s hand. “Please consider it carefully.”

After that, Chizuru drifts off to sleep. Now all by himself again, Aleksei sighs once more. Really, what kind of spy grows attached to his target? Sentimentality has no room in this line of work. Perhaps he has kept watch on this man for too long. Perhaps it would be better to forget about all of this, to start fresh with St Joshua’s blessing—

A rough coughing snaps him out from his musing. It’s Chizuru, still sleeping, but blood trickles down from the corner of his mouth. Aleksei wipes it off with the cloth on the cabinet. Holding him like this, Aleksei can’t help thinking how many scars and wounds Chizuru have accumulated. If he forgot about their current relationship, that would hurt Chizuru again, wouldn’t it?

He can only hope he will receive forgiveness for this.

[saturatedworld]

Price

(This was written as an entry for Memories of Fallen London Competition, Worst Idea of the Decade category.) 

The Enthusiastic Visitor doesn’t like the Neath as much as it seems. Yes, it’s full of wonders, from the Blemmigans to the Rubbery Men. Yes, the place never fails to surprise him on each visit, even if the food never meets his standards. So, what’s wrong?

“He” has taken out his own eye. It was no ruse; there is only void behind those white bandages. In the remaining eye, an emptiness.

The Visitor can’t fulfill the mission entrusted to him. “He” will die if taken back to the surface by force. For now, let’s report this and wait.

In their next meeting, “he” has a bandage on his cheek and shows signs of pain on one shoulder. His sins have caught up to him, so “he” claims.

An agreement was reached: “he” may stay in London, but the Visitor will check on him every month or so. The Visitor can’t help reminiscing the past. Sharing words and gestures, like they used to. “He” is a target, but also a friend.

Another meeting, “he” keeps coughing up blood. Apparently there is an unhealing wound on his chest.

The Visitor listens intently. The spider that is now a child. The Liberation of Night. “He” sounds happy, but the emptiness in his eye remains. Is this fine?

Later, “he” shows up with bandaged hands – burn wounds from clumsy handling of lead plaques. The Visitor can’t ignore those wounds anymore. Still, “he” only smiles.

Recently, “he” disappeared for some time. When “he” returns, his tongue has been marked, his memories fragmented.

Coming to the Neath has done nothing good for you, Chizuru-han. Is revenge that important for you? Even if you would burn into ashes at the end?

How the Visitor wished he could save him, but quiet is all he can offer.