#I think the one who had a breakdown is now having a demon exorcised out of him by the sounds of it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coffee-obsessed-writer · 6 years ago

Text

What Happens After?

Summary: Sam insists they stay after helping to exorcise a demon because the victim is still shaken and hurt.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 2K

Warnings: post-exorcism reader, flesh wounds, bit of fluff

Square filled: Thunderstorm

A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo

Everything Tags: @his-paradox @sorenmarie87 @lefthologramdeer @grace-for-sale @redm81 @becs-bunker @docharleythegeekqueen @moonchild-shoshanna @idontfuckingknowgurl

SPN Tags: @soythedemonqueen // @kazosa // @lucifer-in-leather // @perseusandmedusa // @tiquismiquis // @mrsbarnes-rogers // @yorkeylover // @through-thesilver-lining // @illysamorgan // @fictionalabyss // @gettinjoyful // @auntsalgal // @stuckupstucky // @miss-spnm0mma // @teller258316 // @sphollis-blog // @sweet-things-4-life // @hobby27 // @sweetlythoughtfulbird // @theoriginalvicki // @dreamchester67 // @xxwarhawk // @assassinofmasyaf // @mahalaraewolfe

“We can’t just leave her Dean,” Sam pleaded, his eyes carrying the weight of another’s life in them. “She’s scared and alone. I’m not just going to leave her.”

“Sam, there’s nothing more we can do.”

“Yes, there is. You can go back to the motel, I’m staying here,” he paused and glanced over at the terrified girl in the corner of the room. She was still on the floor, knees pulled into her chest and a face stained with tears and mascara. “The danger may be gone, but she’s not ok. Just look at her. Her arms are still chewed up and she’s terrified.”

“Look man, I get that you wanna help, but our job is done. It’s time to go home and--”

“And what, Dean? Wait for yet another case? Fine. But, tomorrow. Tonight, I’m staying here.”

A distant crack of thunderstorm gave Sam a moment of pause as he saw her flinch at the sound from the corner of his eye.

“Besides, there’s bad weather coming. Probably better off just staying here, at least for one night.”

Yes, the weather was a concern, but the woman they just exorcised a demon out of was alone and clearly scared. She’d just been through an ordeal that no one should have to experience. Sam couldn’t, in good conscience, just leave her in a big, empty house after being saved from a demon possession.

“Alright, fine,” Dean relented, “We’ll stay the night. But you’re on babysitting duty. I’m gonna go get some shut eye. Think she’d mind if I borrowed one of the million rooms upstairs?”

“No, it’s fine,” a small voice chimed in from the corner without looking up. “Take whichever you want.”

Dean gave Sam and satisfied nod and told him to shout if there was any trouble. Sam shook his head as he watched his brother head up the grand staircase. Once out of view, he turned back to the huddled mass of flesh in the corner.

Sam approached you apprehensively, his face wrought with pensive curiosity, which somehow made you feel comforted. You were just happy to be you again; ONLY you again. With the other thing finally dispelled from your body, you could feel all the aches and pains, both physically and mentally that were laid upon you in the two weeks you’d been possessed.

“Can I sit?” he asked cautiously, crouching in front of you but not yet daring to commit to hunkering down.

You nodded.

“How do you feel? Physically, I mean. Are you hurt anywhe--”

Another clap of thunder rippled across the pitch-black sky that hung above the old mansion. It was closer than it was before. The pang of drops against the glass gave more proof that the storm was rapidly approaching.

“Is it just your arms that are cut up?” he continued his question and reached out gently to take your hands.

You didn’t resist and let him extend your arms, turning them each way to see the extent of your injuries. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the sorry excuse for a first aid kit that Sam had found in the kitchen after it was done. He quickly rifled through it and took what he could.

Thunder crashed from above and you whined with fear. Storms never bothered you before, but now every time a flash of distant lightning caught your eye you could feel the trembling in your limbs intensify. Was it because of the possession? Was this just your life now; being afraid and anxious all the time? Would it ever subside? These were only a portion of the thoughts racing through your mind as you remained in the corner.

Up until Dean left, he and Sam had been going through the house leaving marks in certain places. They promised it would help keep the demon out of the house now. They had also drawn a symbol they said should be tattooed on your chest. They had saved you, and now they were helping you to stay safe. So, having Sam and Dean stay the night was the least of your concerns. The rambling, nagging questions, however, were beginning to drive you slightly insane.

Sam finished cleaning up your arms, bandaging them as he could. When he was done, he sat close by, but didn’t crowd your personal space. You’d finally stopped crying, but you could feel the remnants of your post-exorcised breakdown covering your skin; causing you to feel dirty and spoiled. A shower, you wanted a shower, needed one. Maybe it would wash all of the foulness residing from the creature that had been living inside you.

“Does it ever stop?” you asked, your voice tiny in the large, cavernous room.

“What’s that?”

“This feeling of… disgust. Of being, unclean?”

“It does,” he said, laying his head back against the wall. Sam brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. “It’s not exactly something you forget, but it does lessen. Eventually, it won’t be as present in your mind.”

“How long were you possessed?”

“Which time?” Sam gave you a sideways glance and chuckled darkly.

“Ok, wrong question. How many times?”

“Enough,” he replied softly. “Though, to be fair, once it was a demon, the other time it was an angel.”

“An angel?” This piqued your attention, and even if it was only for a moment, drew your thoughts away from the feelings of violation that were crawling through you. “That’s a thing?”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, it’s a thing. So are vampires, werewolves, ghosts, ghouls, dem--” He stopped abruptly. “I’m--I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s alright Sam. I don’t think you saying the word demon is going to make me feel any worse than I already do.”

You couldn’t stay on the floor forever. Stretching out your legs, you saw the overwhelming amount of scratches and bruises there as well, suffered at the hands of the demon that had possessed you. The only feeling of comfort, besides Sam sitting next to you, that you had was knowing that demon was somewhere rotting in Hell for what it had done to you.

“I guess I am just still not over the fact that these things are real.”

Thunder once again rattled the old house as gusts of wind made the frozen branches of the trees chatter so loud you could hear it inside. A chill slowly ran down your arms and up your neck. Lightning flashed outside, engulfing the room in a bolt of bright, white light. Just having looked up in the corner at the right time (or wrong time, depending on how you looked at it) the shadows appeared to be swirling in a moving mass.

Your shrill scream prompted Sam to jump to his feet, unsheathing the knife he kept at his side. “What? What did you see?” he was panicked but seemed ready to act.

“I--I thought I saw something in the corner,” you sighed, but realizing that it was nothing more than a trick of the eye, hung your head against your knees. “I’m sorry, Sam, it was nothing after all.”

“Y/N, its alright,” he said, sitting back down next to you. “You’re going to need time to adjust. And things in the dark with be extra scary for a while. But, I promise you, it will get better.”

Without thinking much about it, you rested your head against his arm. “Thank you for staying. You’ve already done so much for me, I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“It’s what we do.”

“It’s not just what you do, Sam, it’s who you are. You don’t know me. I’m no one to you. How you even knew I was… what I was… you came all this way just to save me. Why?”

Sam shrugged. He was searching for a way to answer your question that may help you, make you feel safer. The words escaped him, and he just shrugged again. “It’s just what we do.”

“Well, you’re a real-life superhero, you know that?”

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “No. Just two guys who got thrown into this crazy life and don’t really know what else to do.”

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

“Because it's our job. It’s our place in this life. We hunt the bad things, the things that most people don’t know exist. Try to help people like you, who unfortunately get caught up in it.”

The storm began to pulse against the house, throwing down hail mixed with rain, making it seem as though it would crack the glass of the windows at any moment. The thunder boomed again, and you could have sworn the walls actually shook that time.

“You can call, Y/N. Even now that its over. If you are scared, or just need someone to talk to, you can call me. Dean and I, we know what it feels like to be left marked by one of these things. Whether it’s a demon or some other monster. We’ve both lost a lot. Just know you aren’t alone, okay? I’m here.”

You burrowed further into Sam’s arm as he cradled your shoulders. “Thank you.”

Sam didn’t respond, only tightened his grip on your arm when the next bout of thunder broke the pattern of the rain.

The storm continued to rage on for an hour. Sam could feel you begin to shiver against him. He removed his jacket and insisted you put it over your shoulders, but it did little to rid your bones of the chill that moved into them.

“Do you think you’re ready to try a different spot? I could get a fire going, but it will work better if you are up to sitting in front of it.”

You nodded reluctantly. Leaving the safety of the corner you had been sitting in was scary, but with Sam there, you felt like you were ready to try and move again. You’d been in that spot since they untied you from the chair that was in the middle of the room. This corner was the furthest from that spot; from that chair. Sensing your apprehension, Sam helped you up, and immediately went to the old wooden seat; the ropes that had bonded you were still tied on tight and dragging behind it.

“This meaningful to you in any way?” he asked, holding it up with both hands.

“Not even a little,” you said, hugging yourself tightly against the chill.

“Good,” Sam smiled and raised the chair above his head.

As if timed perfectly, the chair splintered against the floor just as the loudest crack of thunder raged above. The lightning flashed twice, enhancing your view of the room and enabling you to see the pieces of it scattered across the floor.

Sam grabbed a few of the maps that had been stuffed into the bookshelf. He balled them up and lined the grate of the fireplace with them. Igniting the paper with his lighter, he laid a few of the lingering pieces of kindling that were beside the barely used fireplace. Once it caught, he took the most splintered pieces of the chair and threw it atop the blazing pile.

Sam tossed the last of the rope into the fire and dusted his hands off on his shirt. “Now you don’t have to look at it anymore.”

You hunkered down in front of the fire and let the warmth of it embrace you. Sam sat close and would occasionally glance at you from the side of his eye. Some time passed, neither of you really find the need to fill the space with words; just sitting and enjoying the glow of the flames was what you both seemed to need. A few more flashes of lightning struck again, but the thunder and the rain had finally subsided to echoes in the distance.

Though you didn’t quite feel yourself, the empathy you received from Sam was more than enough to help you at least feel human again. Looking over at him, you saw he was beginning to nod off, his head pitched against the side of the sofa. You grabbed a couple of the throw pillows and laid them down for you both to share.

“Sam, try to get some sleep,” you whispered, and encouraged him to lay his head down. He nodded sleepily and slid down to the floor. You followed suit, resting your head on the other cushion, leaving a bit of space, but still close enough to feel Sam’s body heat.

“You alright?” he mumbled, his eyes closed and breathing beginning to slow.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Sam’s arm wrapped around your shoulder and arm, as he pulled you into him, making you the little spoon. Within seconds, Sam was snoring softly, his arm still protectively across yours. You felt your eyes heavy with exhaustion, as everything was finally catching up to you. Letting your eyelids fall closed, you could feel your entire body exhale with relief, as there was no longer the wickedly disturbing imagery of what that demon made you do over those two weeks.

Finally, there was nothing but peace and the comforting warmth of Sam’s breath against the back of your head.

#spngenrebingo #sam x you #sam x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester fan fiction #spn fanfics #spn fan fiction

115 notes · View notes

roseymoseyberry · 6 years ago

Note

Starscream gets pampered? I'm curious about the exorcist au too!

I feel so bad because both of those are actually notes about what those fics would be if I wrote them. Which.... I haven’t written either of them at all.

I would share the notes but... the notes i write to myself are only meant for my eyes and thus are written very poorly because it’s literally writing as fast as I can to get all the thoughts out before anything slips away, plus there’s a lot that’s unsaid in the notes because I write just enough to remind myself, because they’re notes for me to remind me of what I’ve already thought about, not to inform someone of what happens.

SO I’ll just talk about the ideas I guess. Starting with the exorcist AU because the starscream gets pampered one is 100% smut so I’ll put that under a read more

The Exorcist AU

The Exorcist AU is actually one I’ve talked about some on my blog before, so you can get the basic idea over here. Since then it’s evolved. After some in between stuff, little exorcisms here and there, there is a Big Bad situation, aka the Exorcism of Megatron.

The basic rundown on that is that Megatron invites Orion to come visit him. they’ve kind of been penpals of a sort in this AU, since Orion is interested in anti-functionalist stuff (despite being part of the Church which... both is and isn’t. They say they are but haven’t ever really done anything to stop functionalism, and there are aspects of their teachings and how it’s run that suggests they actually support functionalism). Shortly after that, Orion receives a message from Soundwave that suggests he also bring his friend Ratchet since.... things are getting suspect.

Megatron has the Decepticon group, but it is much more an organization than an army in this situation. Like a secular church almost?? Anyway, they arrive, and Megatron is definitely off, and eventually they realize he’s possessed, so we’re off to the exorcism races.

But this is a Big Bad demon, y’all. It plays mind games and really, reaaaally gets into Orion’s head when at one point he’s one-on-one with the demon. It tells him it’s Megatronus -- THE Megatronus -- and pulls out all the most secret thoughts Orion has had

Aka Orion thinks, deep down where he dares now actually acknowledge it, that he’s the reincarnation of the thirteenth prime

(which he is, but like, in this AU that’s like someone thinking they might be the messiah or what have you so he’s like in deep denial that he feels that way)

Furthermore, the demon is pushing the fact that because of that, Orion doesn’t think the Primes were infallible, or perfect, etc., and he has a LOT of doubts about how priests are forced to emulate a way of life that the Primes didn’t even hold themselves to

So why shouldn’t he let himself have Ratchet?

That’s when things take a turn for the especially wicked because at that point, the demon makes itself appear to be Ratchet, and speak like Ratchet, getting in close and seductive and convincing Orion it’s ok

And Orion falls hook, line, and sinker, and oops he’s kissing a very possessed Megatron and then oOPS there’s pounding on the door from the real Ratchet who can’t get into the room and Orion is face to face with the demon.

And at that point he’s lifted right off his feet with a hand around his throat.

“Tothink we’ve spent all these millions of years searching for you, Thirteenth. Sohard to find, and yet so very easy tolure right into my trap. Almost a shame how easy it was to kill you.”

Anyway, Ratchet breaks in and Orion does not die but they fight and it’s all a big to do and there’s a lot of talking and confessions and bed sharing and one last almost kiss the next morning before things go full tilt.

Cause oops, Skywarp was being quietly possessed the whole time and now he’s Full Blown Possessed by Cyclonus, who uses the warping power to grab Orion, grab Galvatron (because yep the demon was actually Galvatron the whole time), and get out of there.

And things continue from there. Like. It’s a lot, y’all. I’ve though it out a looooot.

the rest as a tl;dr is that Orion breaks at some point and becomes a “prime” for Unicron, aka Nemesis Prime, and back at base Ratchet is working with Soundwave who it turns out wasn’t possessed but was working with the demons because they have his cassettes hostage, but he’s convinced to turn against the demons to try to rescue those cassettes. Nemesis+Galvatron+Cyclonus head to go kill the robot Pope (Sentinel lmao) and blah blah blah Ratchet attempts exorcising etc etc etc ratchet finally kisses Nemesis and whomp whomp the power of love Orion is back but also he’s gone full 180 to full blown Prime and he’s got some extra Primus juice in him to exorcise Megatron and Skywarp and eventually after all of that there’s priest/prime fucking

Starscream Gets Pampered

SO. this wip/idea was essentially a Starscream/Knockout/Breakdown fic in which Knockout and Breakdown do like. The kindest most pampering bondage/bdsm type situation possible. Starscream with arms/legs in spreaders while Knockout and Breakdown buff/wax/massage him from top to bottom, etc. and so forth while being nice and complimentary

I thiiiiink they were doing this to thank him for going to get Breakdown when Breakdown was kidnapped by MECH, and while Megatron didn’t do shit about it, Starscream and some fliers do show up at the end of the episode as if they had planned on rescuing Breakdown.

In the beginning Starscream would be kind of uncomfortable with it because he was expecting a more typical scene, aka being punished, and it’s uncomfortable for him to actually receive genuinely given pampering? But he gets into it.

There’s some stuff with self control. Starscream is told to keep his panels shut, at some point he slips up but like. forces them back closed because he gets in this headspace of wanting to be good!! and eventually he overloads with the panel in place still, and that’s when things really get going.

It’s just pure pampering bondage smut.

#neveralarch

13 notes · View notes

hunterswearingplaid · 6 years ago

Text

Family Of Blood - Part 7

Summary: After finally finding Sam, the reader and Sam fix things between them.

Pairing: Sam x daughter!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: A little swearing, maybe a little angst.

Author’s Note: And that’s a wrap! This series was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy!

Masterlist

After all this bullshit, Sam was standing there with a smile on his face, looking at you from across the road. Dean had come back to you, smiling at you.

“He’s here,” he said cheerfully. “Yeah, he’s a little bloody and we gotta talk later, but we -”

You didn't let him complete, because you were walking towards Sam. Actually, it was more like you were charging towards him.

Sam took a step towards you when you got to him, only to be met with a shove in the chest from you. “Y/N, I -”

“What the fuck, dad?” You shouted at Sam, who was confused by your action. “What the fuck did you think you were doing, stalking out of my house like that, huh?”

Sam wanted to say something. He opened his mouth, only to get shut up by you.

“Do you know how worried Dean was? Do you know how worried I was?” Tears were now streaming down your face. Your voice was starting to get sore, but you were not done yet. “We thought something happened to you!” You pointed a finger towards him, pushing it towards his chest. “We have been up for days, driving around, looking for you! You’ve been holed up here all this time? Hiding like a coward? And I thought my father was a strong man. I thought my father was the bravest. I thought my father could take on anything, but he was hiding from his daughter!” You were screaming now.

The door to Jenny’s house opened, revealing a worried Jenny. You stopped, pulling your hand back, using it to push your hair to your back.

The moment you stopped speaking, Sam had begun. “You think I didn't want to talk to you? I have been trying to make things right for so damn long, and you’ve been the one pushing me away!” His voice sounded strained, like on the verge of a breakdown. “You were the one who said you didn't want to be one of us.” He looked down at the ground. When he met your eyes again, you could see the sadness in them. “Because I killed your mother.”

You shook your head, “You didn't kill my mother, you’re the reason she’s dead!”

“Let me speak, Y/N.” His voice was now lowered, breaking with every second word. “I know I didn't kill your mother. I would remember. But I also don’t know how I am at fault.” One of his hands came up to wipe away a stray tear. “Maybe it was just you trying to push me away.”

“Do you think I’d be here, screaming in your face if I was trying to push you away?”

You wanted to say a million things to him. But you were not going to. Not here, at least. Not with Jenny watching.

You gulped hard. You turned around and walked away, leaving Sam standing there as you sat back down in the car.

A few minutes passed. You could hear Dean and Sam talking loudly outside. After a few minutes, both of them came into the car, getting into the seats in the front.

As Dean drove, there was a tense silence in the car that could not be missed. Not a single word, only the sound of the engine.

Dean seemed to be the only one behaving as if nothing was wrong. Until he switched on the radio.

“You love my lady lumps, my humps my humps my humps…”

Dean switched the radio off and laughed awkwardly. “That’s just…” He smiled, looking at Sam and then you. None of you reciprocated.

Then - you don’t know what came over you - you suddenly spoke up.

“I killed my mother. After I exorcised her.” You looked down at your thumbs, fiddling with them. “She was a demon because of you, dad.”

Sam said nothing.

“The demon was planted in my mother’s body for you. By Azazel.” You went on. You heard sharp intakes of breath from both of them. Sam shifted in his seat. “But then you and Jess got back together. The demon never left her body. It got a host. So it stayed.” Your voice broke. You took a few deep breaths, tears flowing down your face.

“It affected everything Mom did.” You said with finality.

Another few tense seconds of silence passed.

“How did you find out?” Sam asked quietly.

“I was fifteen.” You began, “I had gone to ask Mom if I could use the bathroom. Yeah, I had to ask.” You let out a hollow laugh. “When she turned around to look at me, black eyes. Completely black.” Your voice was hoarse. You didn't want to talk about this. You hated talking about this. But Sam deserved to know.

“It was horrible. I was terrified. I tried googling it, but all I got was Creepypasta nonsense.”

“What did you do?”

“This hunter. Mitch. Mitch Symmes. He came by.” You closed your eyes, trying hard not to visualise it happening. “He told me what he was going to do. But before he could do it, my mother… the demon inside my mother killed him. I had to do it myself.”

By now, you were sobbing. Your body was shaking. You were gripping the edge of the seat tightly to stop any tremors. Your crying was loud in the car.

“Stop the car.” Sam said. Dean looked at Sam confusedly. “Stop the car.” Sam said again, louder this time.

Dean pulled over. Sam got out of the car, opening the door to the back seat. He sat down in the back.

He pulled you close to him. You immediately gave in to his embrace, pressing your face into his chest. Your sobs got louder, the tears soaking Sam’s shirt. Sam’s hand came to your hair, stroking it gently, as he pressed a kiss to your head. His hand shook as he stroked your back. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry for ruining your life.” Sam’s voice was breaking. “You didn't ask for this life. And now, because of me you have to deal with this pile of shit.”

And like that, in that embrace, with calm words from Sam, you didn't realise when you fell asleep.

You woke up to complete darkness. You were in a bed. You swung your legs down, only to hit something on the way. It felt like a body. “Oh my god,” you heard.

The voice sounded like Sam. “Sam?” You asked.

“Y/N?” The voice asked. “Are you up?”

“Yeah. Sam, is that you?” You asked again.

“Yeah.” He said. He switched on the lights, walking over to sit down next to you on the bed. “You need anything?” He looked at you with concern in his eyes.

You shook your head, “We need to talk,” you said quietly, partly dreading the conversation that was going to follow.

“Yeah.” Sam said, turning to face you. “Listen to me, Y/N.” He took you by the shoulders, looking into your eyes. “I am sorry for all this crap. It’s my fault. And I know there is nothing I can do to fix it now -”

“No, Sam. It isn’t your fault.” You protested, taking one of his hands off your shoulder. “The whole Azazel thing, you didn't ask for it. It just happened.” Sam was about to say something, but you went on. “I’ve read the books. I know.”

Sam’s shoulders dropped, his face turning to the floor. “If there was anything I could have done to fix it, I would have, Y/N. You’re my daughter. I want to take care of you. I know it sounds a little pretentious, having known each other for a very short time, but I want to give you the world.”

“I don’t know about the world,” you began, “But you could start by telling me why you ran away.” You looked at Sam expectantly.

Sam laughed a hollow laugh. “I was scared. I didn't know what you wanted me to do. I thought you were pushing me away, that you didn't want me in your life. So I ran.” His voice sounded sad. It sounded regretful.

You scooted a little closer to him.

Sam spoke up once again. “You called me dad.” He said, a trace of hope in his voice.

You smiled to yourself. “After you left, Dean spent some time with me. He took care of me. He told me things that happened after the books. He told me things that only family would know. He took care of me like real family, Sam.”

“I should have been there -”

“Please don’t start again. Let’s try to move past that.” You took a few breaths, and then went on. “The things he told me, they way he told me, it made me feel like I’d known you for years. I wanted to be a part of your life after that. Maybe now, I can.” You said, looking down at your hands fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Yeah.” Sam said, “You totally can.”

After a few seconds, Sam said, “Welcome to the family again, Y/N.” He pulled you into a hug, holding you close to himself. “Maybe this time, you’ll like it.”

“Yeah, dad, I will.”

Tag List:

Forever Tags: @hobby27 @thirdwheelchurchill @unicornblood4ever @emwinchester1 @mcallmestiles

Series Tags: @curly-haired-disaster @internationalmusicteacher @iamabeautifulperson18 @lizmalfoywayland @search-bar

My tag lists and requests are open! :)

49 notes · View notes

beingvulnerable28 · 3 years ago

Text

My first blog

This is officially my first blog post. I have been intending on writing for the longest time, but as procrastination would have it, I have brought myself to sit in front of my laptop only now. Being a serial procrastinator is not easy. You tend to procrastinate in almost everything - events with clear cut deadlines or otherwise. Those without deadlines are the worst, because then, it never happens.

Today, I am going to write about something which is very close to my heart and which came up into my mind almost instantly, as I started rummaging my brain for topics. Emotions. Something which I ran away from, almost every time - either by avoiding them completely or by having a response which was never called for.

I never understood how emotions worked, until recently. When I was angry, I used to think this is how it is. I am an angry person. When I experienced sadness, I told myself that I am a sad person and incapable of being happy ever. I always merged my emotions with who I am as a person, and loathed myself for the same reason. Why? Because I thought I was born with it and there is no way to change it. In short, I had created a list of labels for myself from childhood, that I had serious identity issues by the time I was in my prime 20's. When everyone was enjoying their blissful school and college years, here I was, having my internal monologues, which lead to nowhere. When someone would label me to be annoying or impatient, I would immediately register it in my mind, without giving myself even a tiny ounce of kindness which I would have given another person if it was him / her in that position. Why? Because I had already decided for myself that I am an irritating, short-tempered, impatient person who had to carry the burden of the entire world.

I never realised that it was slowly destroying me until the day I had my first breakdown. I knew something was wrong. But didn't know what it was. I prayed and detached myself from people emotionally for one entire year, because I did not have the courage to confront myself. And then the second breakdown happened. This time, I blamed it on everyone around me. I decided not to take responsibility of it. Why? Years had passed, and I still had no courage to confront myself and my emotions.

And then the third breakdown happened. By now, I had reached that point in life, where I had combined the beliefs which I have been watering and nurturing within me - that I was meant to go through all this all my life and that the whole world is out to get me. Until recently. And this would probably mark the end of one of the toughest battles I fought till date. Courage to face myself and my myriads of emotions. The lessons learned are worth sharing because I know there will be people who would resonate with me on this one because almost all of us have lived our lives without addressing them. Emotions.

It fascinated me about how fast I was able to label myself with the hundred different labels defined by society and myself but not once learn how to label the emotions that took control of me. Why? Because I never called them out on time. It is like all those horror movies you watch, the only way to get rid of a spirit / demon is to call them by their name. That was all what was required to exorcise a possessed person. Identify the entity within. The analogy drawn between the two isn't so difficult anymore is it? Acknowledging emotions is one of the most important habits which most of us skipped classes on. Life lessons rather. You are not your emotion. Whether good or bad. It is a state of mind. And it is highly fluctuating, depending on your surroundings and your circumstances.

To understand the intricacies of these emotions, you need to learn what they are. Label the emotions. Happy, sad, angry, jealous, empty, name them.

Because only then you will be able to convince yourself that they are different from who you are as a person. They are fleeting. They don't make you a good person or a bad person. You are allowed to feel them. But how you act upon them, is what you need to work on. Because it determines the power dynamics between your emotions and you. And you cannot afford to let them win over you. Neither can you avoid them and walk ahead like a zombie. You need to learn how to co-exist.

I am not going to be writing everything right away in one blog post, because this is going to be a journey. Yours and mine. And I am going to share everything that I would be doing to acknowledge my emotions and manage them as I learn. Because, we all know how to read and resonate. But when it comes to inculcating them in our own lives, we lag behind.

If you have to start acknowledging your emotions, asking yourself why it is important for you is necessary. Everytime you acknowledge an emotion, the control it has over you fades little by little. Just like how they say, practice makes you perfect, acknowledging your emotions will teach you how to manage them. So for now - I want you to tell yourself these few things. If you have to reach somewhere, you have to take that first step, know?

You are not a bad person / good person your whole life. Just like how we are not the same like we were back when we were little children, just like how seasons fluctuate throughout the year. Your actions determine who you are at every point in life. Listen to yourself without judgment. If you judge yourself, how do you expect to not be judged by others?

It is okay to feel emotions of different kinds. Don't let social media fool you into believing that everyone is having a ball of a time and compare yourself. Everyone goes through waves of emotions. Everyone chooses to react differently, that is all there is. So feel 'em, but count till 5, before you act on them. It will give your mind the time to walk hand in hand with your emotions before you do anything which you would regret later.

Whenever you are overwhelmed, breathe. And ask yourself what is it that you are feeling. Talk to yourself. Pen them down. Venting is an underrated way of bringing emotions under control.

That's all for today, folks! :) Let us all take that first step together to work on our mental health, because you are the only person who knows you inside out.

#emotions #acknowlegement #innerpeace #introspection #peace #labels #mentalhealth #mental wellbeing #youdoyou #selflove #acceptance

0 notes

will-you-be-my-savior · 6 years ago

Text

asks for 08/22/18

anonymous asked:

Um, hi. I think that one of my roommates ended up here yesterday. He seemed kind of insulted when we asked him what happened. Figured I should borrow this thing to explain some stuff. That guy, he kind of clings to the belief of being human for his own mental health's sake. He got bullied badly as a kid for that unnerving feeling his species causes in humans and whatever I am. It's not that he's dumb, it's just his mind is working so hard to protect itself from a breakdown. -Mayhem Tom

Tord: …

Tom: i told you he wasn’t stupid.

Matt: … is he okay?

(tord feels like an idiot. he judged him more harshly because they were counterparts but now he regrets that.)

anonymous asked:

He probably would be okay now if his parents weren't jerks that didn't believe in therapy, especially after they had him exorcised when he wasn't even possessed. Not his fault his species makes humans uneasy and the kids in his class broke his arm and leg. Just glad he had a friend in that class that wasn't bothered by that uncanny valley feel and protected him until he got over how his species normally doesn't fight. He'd be a lot worse if he hadn't. - Mayhem Tom

Tom: i had a feeling he’d been through a lot…

Tord: … shit…

Matt: who was the friend?

(tord seriously regrets the way he acted last night.)

anonymous asked:

Well, Edd was that friend, they've stuck by each other since primary school. No one really wanted to be friends with either of them. They're still best friends today, and I'm kind of surprised cause Edd's laziness from being half sloth demon gets pretty annoying for me and Matt most of the time. Then again, Tord's probably done his best to stick with the only people that never tried to hurt him or always called him a monster for something he can't help. -Mayhem Tom

Tom and Matt: *twitch*

Tord: i suppose that makes sense. his counterpart was probably my best friend throughout most of my time in school as well.

(tom and matt are on edge, but otherwise fine)

anonymous asked:

Are those two okay? They seem kind of like the Tord here after he's had a panic attack. - Mayhem Tom

Tom: … we’ll… be fine.

Matt: it’s no big deal.

dudawakmax asked:

OK I heard that people where in the edge and I come as fast as I could. NO TALKING ABOUT THE GREEN DEVIL IN FRONT OF MY BABY BUNS!!!!

Tom: it’s okay duda, we’re fi-

Matt: DUDA! *squeeze* we haven’t seen you in a while!

anonymous asked:

Okay? I'll avoid mentioning his name for now on if it's an issue. Don't know what happened to put people on edge talking about him, but I won't ask. - Mayhem Tom

Tord: probably for the best…

dudawakmax asked:

Five tests in this week, I'm just kinda busy :P And NOPE! NO GREEN DEVIL SHIT NEAR MY BABY BUNS.

Matt: i thought i was a bat not a bun?

Tom: really duda, we’ll be fine.

dudawakmax asked:

You can be a vampire bun!

Matt: *giggles*

anonymous asked:

Wait, your Matt's a vampire? Huh, the one here just makes potions and glamours. - Mayhem Tom

Tom: … yeah he is, but he can do that too.

Tord: he once made himself look like pat just to fuck with the people in the cells… we watched the footage back later… it was terrifying.

Matt: my favorite thing to make are the potions that make your skin glow!

(he means actually glow, like a glow stick)

anonymous asked:

He mostly just sells his glamours to other creatures and beings to hide as humans. He does make a lot of potions for beauty and stuff though. - Mayhem Tom

Matt: i don’t like potions like that… it’s not real.

Tom: most supernatural creatures here just stay away from humans rather then go through the trouble of getting a glamour, unless they can shapeshifter like me or just look human enough like matt.

Tord: human’s don’t generally get told about the supernatural here. and if they do find out it had better be because someone told them of else… *neck snapping motion*

dudawakmax asked:

Wow wow wait. You turned yourself into Patty cake?

Matt: with a glamour, yeah.

anonymous asked:

We don't kill any humans that find out, we first see what they're planning. If it's dangerous, they lose several days worth of memories when witches specializing in memory wipes show up and just, make them forget all about the fact that 'monsters' live among humans. If they're beneficial, they can keep their memories. A lot of the monsters that think Tord is human don't mind him knowing. He just wants to learn and stop the ones that hurt others. - Mayhem Tom

Tord: i think the main reason they don’t wipe memories here is because they tend to overestimate rather then underestimate those who find out… if they found out once what’s to stop them from finding out again?

Tom: if a person is perceptive they stay perceptive no matter how many times they have their memory wiped.

dudawakmax asked:

Cool! Can the glamour change your height too? Like, turning me into mister eyebrows?

Matt: a glamour is more an illusion then a transformation… so yes it does change how tall you LOOK.

anonymous asked:

We try to avoid killing cause it could draw unwanted attention. Especially since some of the more dangerous creatures like to move here and hunt instead of just buying cloned meat from Bing. - Mayhem Tom

Tom: we just have specific “people” who come and kill them just like any other human would. these “people” essentially don’t exist in modern society so any evidence the police found would just lead to dead ends.

Tord: when i’m in power we’re changing that…

Tom: well duh.

anonymous asked:

Take over the world? You guys are pretty different than everyone in my world. No world domination plans here. I think. Might need to triple check with the Tord here just to be safe. Though the worst anyone's found in his room is his gun stash and where he hides his hentai. - Mayhem Tom

Tord: if there was any other way my system would work i’d take it in a heart beat but they’re pretty reliant on having a single leadership with all the necessary resources available.

anonymous asked:

Well, good luck with that then. I better put this machine back before the others realize I have it and want to try talking to you too. - Mayhem Tom

Tord: thanks, i guess.

Matt: bye other tom!

spooncryptid asked:

Hewwo!!

Matt: come get your pets. * holds out his arms*

spooncryptid asked:

//happily jumps up into Matt’s arms// yay!!!

Matt begins to vigorously pet you.

spooncryptid asked:

//purrs and snuggles into Matt//

Matt is content.

spooncryptid asked:

Mmm, so what’s happening today?

Matt: remember mayhem from yesterday? Well his tom was talking to us for a bit. After that tom left to go pick up the parts he ordered and Tord went to go get us dinner.

spooncryptid asked:

There’s another Tommy too??

Matt: appears so. He was rather nice even.

spooncryptid asked:

Is there another Mattie??

Matt: yep! He said his Matt is magic but not a vampire.

spooncryptid asked:

That’s confusing, how am I supposed to keep track of two of everyone?

Matt: he just put mayhem in front of his name.

spooncryptid asked:

Well they certainly are a lot of mayhem!

Matt giggles. He liked that joke.

spooncryptid asked:

Dyou know what Tords getting for dinner?

Matt: nope. all he said was that it was some kind of Americanized German thing.

spooncryptid asked:

Huh, I wonder what it’ll bt

Matt: all the weird stuff he’s gotten for us has been good so far.

spooncryptid asked:

Tommy doesn’t like the food??

Matt: oh tom loves the food! He just doesn’t want to admit it!

spooncryptid asked:

Why not??

Matt: I dunno. He’s stubborn?

spooncryptid asked:

That doesn’t make sense

Matt: I think he thinks that if he admits that it’s good he’ll be losing or something.

spooncryptid asked:

Hed lose a game?? What would he lose???

Matt: I don’t know. Tom and Tord are always like that. Like they are always playing a game neither knows all the rules to.

spooncryptid asked:

That’s confusing, how do you win if there’s no rules?

Matt: i don’t know that either… they don’t make a whole lot of sense.

spooncryptid asked:

They sure don’t

Matt: nope.

Tord: *coming through the door* oh! hello cryptid.

spooncryptid asked:

Hi Tordie! What did ya get for dinner?

Tord: some strange Americanized form of schnitzel with a side of potatoes au gratin and green bean casserole.

Matt: sounds good.

spooncryptid asked:

Mm smells good

Tord: i’d hope so.

Matt: gimme!

Tom: *enters room* whatever…

spooncryptid asked:

Hi Tommy!!

Tom: hey cat freak.

(it is said with affection)

spooncryptid asked:

Are you ready for dinner?

Tom: i guess…

Tord: …

(tord is getting tired of this BS)

spooncryptid asked:

Cmon, can’t you smell how tasty it is!!

tom is glaring… tord is gonna break something.

spooncryptid asked:

What’s with you two??

tom doesn’t know who made the food and is being bitter. tord doesn’t wanna admit who made the food cause he’s a paranoid little shit.

spooncryptid asked:

Why does it matter who made the food????

tom hates eating things when he doesn’t know who’s touched it…

spooncryptid asked:

If Tord knows about that then what’s the big deal about telling him? Why is it better to cause tension??

he’s embarrassed…

(can you guess why)

spooncryptid asked:

I have an idea...

do you now?

spooncryptid asked:

That’s honestly kinda cute but st ill

tord is shocked. he thinks you might know. he’s questioning how that could even be possible.

spooncryptid asked:

Mmm, I’m hungry! Let’s eat!!

tord is enormously grateful. they all sit down to eat.

spooncryptid asked:

Food food!!

tom: puts a small plate with servings of the sides and two small pieces of breaded meat.

spooncryptid asked:

//purrs softly//

matt is okay now, all he hears is soft purring.

there seems to be a section that got deleted here. basically spooncryptid revealed that tord was the one making the food, tord got embarrassed, tom pulled him out of the room and started making out with him and matt had to cover his ears because he could hear them.

spooncryptid asked:

//is just a sleepy cat hat//

matt sits down against a wall and leans into it and tom and tord re-enter the room looking very disheveled.

spooncryptid asked:

//stops purring and jumps down//

Matt: aaawww.

Tord: what are you two doing?

spooncryptid asked:

Nothing.. //sits in the corner a bit nervous//

Tom: … *is very suspicious*

Tord: right…

spooncryptid asked:

... sorry....

Tom: what are you sorry for?

spooncryptid asked:

Uh... not thinking.. before I say stuff....

Tom: *sigh*

Tord: okay. *looks very pleased with himself*

spooncryptid asked:

Mmm.... I’ll try harder to not do that anymore....

Tord: it’s fine.

Tom: why are you acting like you just got fucked? i just kissed you.

Tord: because it was a nice kiss.

spooncryptid asked:

//curls up in the corner, again//

mat turned into a bat and curled up with you.

spooncryptid asked:

//cuddles Matt//

tom turns himself into a tiny monster and tord picks both of them and you up and carries you all to bedroom to all go to sleep together.

spooncryptid asked:

Mm, goodnight...

Tord: night…

Tom and Matt: *cooing*

#eddsworld #ew tord #ew tom #ew matt #savior au #ask response #spooncryptid #dudawakmax #mayhemworld tom #anon #mod x

1 note · View note

c0astlin3s-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

#1: Mykonos - Fleet Foxes by Me, someone who usually barfs at nu-folk. “And you will go to Mykonos With a vision of a gentle coast And a sun to maybe dissipate Shadows of the mess you made”

Two years ago, I lived three doors down from a huge prison building, in a nice little house where I once found a dead kitten in the ginnel between ours and next door. Two months ago, we were renting a small two up-two down house, squashed into a gravelly cul-de-sac, paying yer racist da half of my wage for the pleasure of being five minutes walk from a workplace that sapped the life out of me. Now, I live overlooking the bay pictured above. So the lyric shouldn’t take too much working out in terms of its significance in terms of escaping to a paradise in search of the sun and some sort of slate-wiping (not literal ones - there are a lot of roofing jobs out here though, FWIW). “But, Joe!” I hear you cry, “Those shadows - the kitten, the job - they weren’t of messes that YOU had made.Your lyric doesn’t fit! Phoney! Fraud!” Well, maybe those particular ones weren’t my messes per se, but every human life has a lot of mess. My life so far has provided me not so much a closet as a walk-in-wardrobe of skeletons and a graveyard of spectres - some of which I would one day like to be brave enough to exorcise on here. Even the workplace thing: The job was one I took on in the knowledge that the school was in the worst-performing quartile for every subject. But I would walk right in and save the day, right? Google “naive egomaniac” and you will see me. They didn’t even get my good side. Fast-forward a year after taking on my one-doyle-mission, I had what I can now openly call some kind of breakdown. I think that’s where I’m getting at with this. I learned self-care in that period. Some people learn these basic maintenance habits consciously, or subconsciously, in early childhood. I guess I didn’t, for whatever reason. In the middle of the school day, I had what I now recognise as a panic attack, walked out of school and through the streets hyperventilating and blubbing down the phone to my Mam. I doubled my existing dose of happy-pill (strictly prescription, kids), took a month off “on the sick” and mostly spent the time under one particular tree. For a while, the walk to and time spent under the tree, I guess was a “Mykonos”, where I went to dissipate the shadows.

Please, credit me to the extent that I know people have many, many problems that simple self-care won’t fix. I am never, ever going to say that self-care will work to solve all your problems. My biggest “Mykonos” is still the little white Citalo-pill I pop every morning to balance my head-chems. But the discovery of self-care is something that evaded me til I was 29, almost to the cost of my life, and this lyric explains the concept perfectly.

I am obscenely privileged that my current situation is pretty much the same craic as the actual Greek island in the song. It is through the hard work of others that I am able to live here for a while. Maybe your Mykonos is your bedroom, your living room, your table where you draw/write. Maybe it’s your parents’ house, your grandparents’ house. Maybe it’s a tree up a hill. It took me two years of absolute grinding internal misery and self-loathing to allow myself the thought, “I am going to put myself first on this occasion and go to my Mykonos”, and not feel like I had failed or was failing myself or others.

I know nobody’s asking for my advice but I have some, for what it’s worth: take some time to find your Mykonoses (Mykonosii? Mykonese?). Don’t let others tell you what/where they are. Even in this paradise, I have had a panic attack and shed many tears. You don’t get the worm out of the apple by putting it in a shinier bowl. Your Mykonos could be an activity rather than a place, you’d be surprised at how well that annoying received wisdom about banishing the demons works, in my experience (alongside doctor’s orders, of course). Regular exercise, keeping your house/room/flat in order, trips to the countryside, contact with cute animals, having blankets and treats on a sofa in front of a film you already know you love. I know how inertia hits and you don’t feel like any of those things are do-able, but I promise you that they are. This HuffPost article has some really practical tips that will 100% do you good when you are ready to give even one of them a bash: https://www.huffingtonpost.com/sarah-pike/4-self-care-tips-to-boost-your-well-being_b_8720752.html But please, please, don’t downplay the importance of finding, having and using your self-care habits without feeling shame. They push back the walls of that tunnel vision that closes in. Eventually, something may happen that could blow those walls away, and trust me - you will be so much the readier for it if you have these good habits. It’s the reluctance to habitually care for one’s self that damn near killed me, literally. You will realise that pretty much nobody gives you anything less than respect and encouragement for doing it. And if they do? Then they are either lacking the intelligence to understand, or, sadly, they are bottoming out and seeing you kick on will hurt them (I have been this person).

Still skeptical? Try one or two of these chats on for size: https://www.ted.com/playlists/299/the_importance_of_self_care

Cheers, look after yourselves, Joe ------------------------------------ There you go: my maiden voyage into this blog. Felt a little too long but unsure of what form I want it to take right now. I’ll hopefully have a few different voices to mix things up here, but this blog in itself is a Mykonos for me, so I will be writing regularly too. Cheers if you got this far, Joe.

2 notes · View notes

tang-wei · 7 years ago

Text

ONS Guren LN Vol 1 Chapter 3 translation~

Title: The freshman representative

Translator: @tang-wei

Raws: Chinese

If you feel the need to re-read the whole series again, the masterpost is here

Important note: Because the previous sources for Volume 1 have been taken down/ made unavailable, I am translating this for the sake of fans who are not able to purchase a copy of the official English translation that is available. If you enjoy Guren’s story, then please support the author by buying the novel!

All the students were assembled in the auditorium.

They totaled 1100 people.

600 freshmen.

340 second year students.

160 third year students.

That was the breakdown.

The reason why there were fewer students as the school year went up was because in each term, students would undergo numerous selection tests on sorcery techniques. Based on their results, their ability would be evaluated and ranked, and if their capabilities were deemed to be unfit for this school, they would be forced to drop out.

And thus, by the time the first year ended, around half the students would be left. So as the school year progressed, the number of students would be less.

Of course, the students would study frantically and train. Raw fighting techniques, sorcery techniques; if one did not excel in both these areas, one could not survive in this school.

"But nevertheless, I'm exempt from this, I suppose."

Guren muttered as he looked around the auditorium which was crowded with students.

Guren had taken some kind of entrance examination to enter First Shibuya High.

On top of the common math, language, and history exams, there was also a sorcery technical exam and a spell knowledge exam.

And he tackled all these shoddily. Rather, since the level of the questions were such that it looked like he would get all of them right if he did them carelessly, he had to do his best to think of erroneous answers as he tackled the exams.

And the outcome should have been a score that was too low for him to pass.

That would probably be what the grader thought. Why did this useless fella come take the entrance examination to this First Shibuya High which only the elites attend?

But for some reason, Guren was here.

He ended up getting accepted into a school for nurturing sorcerers, where the believers of 『Mikado no Oni』 enroll in, and even among those who enrolled, only the most capable people would get accepted by the school.

In other words, there was no meaning to the exams.

"Which means in the end, no matter how bad my results are during these 3 years, I'll still remain here and continue to get picked on."

Guren murmured, but in contrast to what he murmured, he was strangely delighted as he looked intently at the students who were going to pick on him from hereon.

The students were cheerful.

While being hopeful about their new school life, they were also anxious over the competition that was going to start, and the chattering increased.

On the stage of the auditorium, the long greeting by the principal was about to end.

"You are students who are chosen. You are the seeds of light who might become candidates for the top brass within 『Mikado no Oni』 in the future. Hold that pride in your heart, and have a fun student life......"

Such a long talk had been continuing for quite some time.

Guren looked up at the principal.

Then, at that moment,

"Hey, Ichinose Guren. Answer a question of mine."

A voice called out to him from the side.

Guren turned towards the voice.

There stood a girl clad in sailor uniform. Since she was just right beside him, she was probably in the same class as him.

She had almond-shaped eyes with a seemingly strong will, and red hair. Fair skin.

"Were you talking to me?"

Guren replied.

On hearing that, the girl then said with a somewhat mocking face.

"Is there anyone other than you who belongs to the filthy Ichinose House?"

"Filthy, huh."

Guren smiled at those words. He then looked at the girl and said.

"By the way who are you? Which high and mighty land did you come from?"

Hearing that, the girl's face turned into one of incredulity, and she touched her red hair. And then said.

"Hah, as I thought, the Ichinose are ignorant on top of being rude. To think that you don't know who I am after seeing this hair."

By the way, Guren could already more or less guess who this girl was.

She was most likely someone of the Juujo House.

Rather, there should not be anyone among the learners of sorcery who would not know about that red hair.

Juujo Tohito.

He exorcised a legendary demon all by himself, and the price he paid for that was a curse he took on, and ever since then, his descendants were born with red hair ---

That was written even in history books.

In other words, when Guren saw that red hair, naturally, he immediately knew that she was someone of the Juujo House --- one of the famous old houses, which could be counted with just one hand, that served the Hiiragi House; but, Guren said to her.

"Are you that famous? Are you an idol?"

Instantly, the red haired girl looked at him with a clearly disgusted face. She then said,

"...... it's a wonder someone with this level of knowledge could enter this school huh."

Guren then smiled and said.

"I happened to get everything right when I rolled a die."

"We weren't using computer-marked sheets for our exams duh. Well, at any rate, you're probably unconditionally accepted so that the candidate for the next head of Ichinose House can learn his place."

After saying that, she continued looking at him with scornful eyes.

Guren then asked.

"And? What can the excessively self-conscious idol-wannabe possibly want from me?"

"Who is the idol-wannabe!"

Her almond-shaped eyes turned up a notch further. Even with that, the fact that her face did not crumble was probably because she was a beauty.

"Aah, you are really noisy. Then, tell me, who on earth are you?"

She then had a face that seemed to say "it's time to listen up and learn my name", and she said.

"I am Juujo Mito. Of that very Juujo House."

She grinned so smugly as if saying that there was no one who would not prostrate himself to her after hearing this.

Guren then said to her.

"Heh."

"How is it? Is the fear getting to you now?"

"Hn~"

"Fufuh, you may prostrate and apologize you know? Well, even if an ignorant Ichinose is to prostrate before me, it's not something that will make me happy though."

"You know."

"What is it? Are you really that happy to have me talk to you?"

Guren then replied.

"I still don't know anything about the Juujos though."

"I see. You're that happy huh. Then it's fine. I'll forgive your earlier igno...... I'll...... hey wait a minute. What did you just say?"

"Like I was saying, I don't know anything about the Juujos."

"Hey! Are you kidding me!? That Juujo you know? The descendant of that Juujo who sealed the『Shiki of Kaede』 you know?"

"No idea."

"^^^^"

Her face looked as if she was trying to holler something but no words came out.

She then shook her head in an agitated manner,

"No no, don't get angry Mito. He's just a lowly rat of the Ichinose......you should already know that he doesn't have any form of human intelligence right? If you get angry with just a small thing like this, you'll spoil your family name. So calm down."

The red haired girl patted her small chest, and breathed in and out deeply as she said that.

What's wrong with her?...... Guren thought while looking down at her, and he then looked around once more. And he thought.

This place is probably filled with people like her.

At the very least, the only ones who could come here were those who had accumulated years of very strict training in sorcery since a young age. On top of that, this place was probably also filled up with those who were brought up in a hierarchical society based on lineages. And in that case, most of them were probably unsociable.

"Well, if we're talking about sociability, I shouldn't be the one to talk about others."

He laughed softly.

Mito then said angrily.

"What are you laughing about!"

"Ah? Nothing really."

"Well, fine. I don't think there's any need for me to introduce myself any further to an ignorant guy like you."

"I see. Well, I only know that you want to become an idol......"

"Like I said, that's not it!"

Yelled Mito.

And this time round, her yell was loud enough for it to reverberate within the auditorium.

And with that, the principal's words stopped. All eyes were on her.

Mito's face stiﬀened into one that said, oh no, I've gone and done it, and her face was flushed to a scarlet red that was no less than the color of her hair.

"A-Ah, erm, I beg your pardon. Please continue."

She said in a small voice.

And with that, the principal resumed his talk. The other students too turned away immediately. It was probably because they knew her lineage from the color of her hair. That was how famous and powerful the Juujo House was.

Mito seemed to shrink from the embarrassment.

Guren said to comfort her.

"Haha, it's great isn't it? In an instant, you caught everyone's attention like an idol......"

"I'll kill you, you know?"

Thonk, Guren was struck in the back. The force of the blow was not too big. Well, that was as expected with a slender body like hers. In other words, she was probably the type that utilizes sorcery to confer her body with battle abilities.

Since, in the history books, it was written that the Juujos were people who overwhelm demons with their brute strength.

That was how famous the Juujo House was as a militant house. Its members were often employed in the positions of assassins or escorts. She was probably also someone who possessed a considerable amount of ability.

That was thus why Guren looked at her with calculative eyes, and thought.

--- now, do I have the capability to kill her?

But, he did not give away his thoughts. Guren looked down at the Mito who had hit him, and asked.

"And?"

"What is it?"

"You were the one who started talking to me right? What do you want? Are you hitting on me?"

"Hitting on...... of course it's not that!"

Her voice once again was on the verge of becoming loud, and she lowered her voice frantically. It seemed like she was the type who got emotional easily.

Mito said to him.

"What I wanted to ask is about Hiiragi Shinya-sama."

"Hm."

"I saw you having a deep conversation with Shinya-sama earlier, what on earth were you talking about?"

She asked.

And with that, Guren more or less knew what she wanted to ask.

The Juujo House often served the Hiiragi House as their escorts. And thus, it was a given that she would want to have a grasp of the situation whereby Hiiragi Shinya was talking unreservedly to someone of the Ichinose House.

So Guren replied.

"It wasn't anything important."

"You're lying. I saw the both of you talking in a rather friendly manner."

"You were paying really close attention huh."

"Whatever, just spit it out. What in the world were you and Shinya-sama talking about?"

Vexed at her persistent question, Guren said.

"I mean, it won't do you any good even if you hear it. Do you really want to hear it?"

"Let me hear it."

"Ah ~, I mean, guys of our age can only talk about one thing."

"What would that be?"

"Girls."

"Eh?"

"Like who are the cute girls in class. And, Shinya said that you were cute, you know? He was thinking of asking you out tonight, he said."

"Huh? Eh......!?"

In a flash, Mito's expression changed. With a beet red face,

"Eh, eh, th-th-th-that's a lie right? I can't, do this...... Shinya-sama already, has Mahiru-sama......"

Mito said readily.

It seemed like the relationship between Shinya and Mahiru was a well-known thing, and there was no problem with it being publicized.

If so, why did I not know of this? The question surfaced in Guren's head.

If Mito could say it so readily, then this would definitely be something the Ichinose House would know of, and in that case, why did he not hear about it?

"It's my father huh......"

Guren murmured with a slightly troubled face. His father probably withheld the information to prevent him from hearing about matters regarding Mahiru.

If so, there was a possibility that the retainers that were directly under Guren, Yukimi Shigure and Hanayori Sayuri, might know of this.

They probably also knew who would giving the speech as the freshman representative today. They knew it and hid it from their master.

Guren then smiled wryly to himself.

"Hah, what the hell? It's just a 5 year old brat's meaningless crush you know? Did it seem like I still have any kind of lingering aﬀection for her?"

Mito resumed with a flustered look as before.

"B-Besides, it's forbidden for us retainers to get into that kind of relationship with the people of the Hiiragi House. So, can you please help me tell Shinya-sama that it would also be troubling for him?"

"............"

"And also, I really love and respect Mahiru-sama, so can you also tell Shinya-sama that we should pretend that this conversation place......"

"Ah? You are acquainted with Mahiru?"

On hearing that, Mito's expression changed again. Her eyes turned up angrily,

"I won't allow an Ichinose to call Mahiru-sama's name so casually!"

Her voice became loud again.

Guren corrected himself in order to pacify her.

"Ah ~, erm, are you acquainted with Mahiru-sama?"

Mito then nodded in aﬃrmation. She then started proudly,

"Mahiru-sama is really beautiful, and she would come into contact with us kindly without regard to her station, it's like she's a goddess."

Goddess --- she called her that too.

It seemed like Mahiru was pretty well-liked.

Mito continued.

"On top of that, she excels in both the 'sword and the pen', and even in the entrance exam for this school, she was the top in all the subjects. To us who owe our allegiance to the 『Mikado no Oni』, to be able to serve under Mahiru-sama would be the ultimate blessed thing."

And so it seemed.

Top in all subjects.

Mahiru had cleared that school entrance exam as the top student.

In other words, among the freshmen, the most capable person is Mahiru?--- Guren pondered.

And those words surfaced in his head again.

If so, will I be able to defeat Mahiru? Do I possess the power to overwhelm the Hiiragi House?

But at the same time, another image surfaced in his head. No, it might be better to say that it inadvertently surfaced in his head.

The scenery of the time when he was still playing with Mahiru.

On the green lawn.

Under the cloudless, clear sky.

Always beside him, the Mahiru who was always smiling happily, joyfully, innocently.

It has been 10 years since then huh, thought Guren.

Time flies.

Then, at that moment, the principal said.

"It has been a long speech, but that will be all from me. And next, let's move on to the greeting message from this year's freshman representative. This year's freshman representative was unanimously decided. We are honored to welcome the daughter of the very Hiiragi House to this school --- and now, Hiiragi Mahiru-sama --- I'll hand it over to you."

On saying that, the principal bowed.

Then, from the wings of the stage, a girl appeared.

She had long beautiful ashen hair and dignified, resolute eyes. Even though her face was best described as coldly well-chiseled, she did not appear cold at all.

Gentle, graceful, and just like when she was still a child, she still had that same innocent look, it seemed. It was understandable why others would want to call her a goddess.

"............"

The crowded auditorium returned to silence in such an atypical manner that it would be hard to imagine that there were over a thousand people here.

Everyone's attention was drawn to Mahiru.

Of course, just the Hiiragi name alone would have that kind of power. The power to silence all who were gathered here.

But right now, that was not the only thing that happened.

It would appear that the students were rendered motionless, struck by some sort of bright light that was inside of Mahiru.

Mahiru stepped up to the podium.

She looked intently at the students, greeted them lightly, and smiled gently.

"Thank you for the introduction. I am Hiiragi Mahiru. Today, I've been given the task of greeting you as the freshman representative. Pleased to meet you all."

A crystal clear voice.

With her voice alone, she seemed to have put the auditorium under a magic spell.

Beside Guren, Mito had a spellbound face.

A few rows in front of him, Hiiragi Shinya turned around to face him.

Of course, Mahiru did not turn her gaze towards Guren. It was probably diﬃcult to find him among such a large crowd anyway.

Or maybe,

"She's not interested in the lowly, poor achiever of an Ichinose rat huh?"

As if she were singing without a hitch, Mahiru continued her greeting.

Looking up at her, Guren thought.

The distance between me and her hasn't changed much since.

Between God and the crawling rat on the ground.

Guren grinned at that thought, and after that,

"Haha."

Hidden from everyone, he clenched his fist.

♦

Night.

The time was 7.30 pm

After being made to listen to the talk about the school curriculum which was going to take place from this day onward, they had to take several sorcery-related tests despite the fact that the school entrance ceremony had just ended. Only after the tests were done, could Guren and his followers go home.

The place that Guren was residing in was a unit in a high-rise apartment which was 15 minutes' walk away from the school.

It was a pretty large 5LDK (5 rooms with a living room, dining room and a kitchen) unit the Ichinose House had rented for Guren for him to attend First Shibuya High.

Rather, in order to prevent enemies from sneaking up on them, they had rented all the units on the floors above and below and placed spell traps to guard against infiltration --- that was how cautious they were.

In other words, 4 other units aside from the one that Guren was staying in on this floor were rented. Totaling up the units on the floors above and below, there should have been 14 units in excess, but yet,

"Why are the both you in the same room as me?"

Sitting in a cross-legged fashion on the sofa of the living room, with a stern face, Guren said to the two girls in front of him.

They were his retainers, Yukimi Shigure and Hanayori Sayuri.

The initial plan was to have them stay in the units flanking Guren's unit, but right now, the two of them, shouldering their backpacked luggage, had moved into this room.

Shigure answered Guren's question.

“...as one would expect, as retainers, we should not leave our master’s side under any circumstance

“You’re hindrances.”

“Uwah....”

Following that, Sayuri said.

"B-But but, this unit is a 5LDK after all, and us retainers will just act stealthily and stay out of the way, and quietly live our life......"

"Though you have no precedence of managing that before."

"Auh......"

"That's enough, get out. I hate all this clamor."

"But."

"No buts. Just get out."

Guren ordered . He pointed to the exit.

Then, the retainers nodded and said.

First Shigure,

"......all right Sayuri. Let's pretend to listen to Guren-sama and get out first, and we'll return during the night."

Following that, Sayuri clapped her hands together,

"That's what you get from Yuki-chan, you're so sma......"

"Like hell you are!"

Bellowed Guren.

He then sighed and said.

"Even though you are my retainers, you don't even listen to what I say."

Shigure protested.

"But we're just putting your safety as our topmost priority, Guren-sama."

Yeah yeah, Sayuri nodded in agreement.

"That's right. We are already prepared to lay down our lives for your sake, Guren-sama."

The two of them seemed to have no intention of leaving, and Guren folded his arms in exasperation. He then thought.

About the agony that he would experience from living with 2 girls in the same condo unit for 3 years.

They were all adolescents.

Which meant that they probably had to show an unusual amount of consideration for one another. That would be awfully troublesome. Just plain troublesome.

And so he said.

"Hey, do you girls really understand the meaning of living together with me in the same unit?"

Sayuri then cocked her head to the side and said.

"The meaning of living together, you say?"

"That's right."

"What will that be?"

Guren then replied.

He pointed to a cardboard box which had yet to be unpacked in the corner of the room,

"Do you know what's inside that box?"

Sayuri turned around to look at the box, and she asked.

"What's inside?"

"Porn mags."

"Eh......!!"

Sayuri's face stiﬀened in an instant.

By the way, that box did not contain any porn mags but the truth did not matter now.

Guren grinned and continued.

"In other words, it means just that. When you live under the same roof as a guy, you would need to bear with things like that you know? Knowing that, are you still going to say that you want to live here?"

"...... e-erhm......"

"All right. Now that you know that it's impossible to live together, quickly get out of......"

But, Sayuri cut him oﬀ and said. For some reason, her face was beet red and she squeezed shut her eyes,

"I-It's okay...... I-I've heard about this stuﬀ from my father."

"Huh?"

"T-T-T-That this is also part of, m-m-m-my job, if you have n-n-n-needs a-a-at n-n-night......"

"What kind of stupid thing did your father actually tell you!"

Guren hollered but Sayuri continued.

"B-B-B-B-B-Be-sides, if it's for your sake, Guren-sama, I-I-I'll do it...... so, there won't be a need for you to use any porn mags......"

"Just get out of here already moron!"

In response to Guren's words, Shigure, who was beside Sayuri, merely said quietly.

"Hey Sayuri."

"Yes."

"Don't worry. There aren't any porn mags in that box. They are research books on sorcery."

"Eh?"

"There's no way our master would read those low-class porn mags right? Guren-sama is someone who's so busy with his intense training that he has no time for such things."

On hearing those words, Sayuri's face brightened up instantly,

"T-That's right! Just what I would expect of Guren-sama!"

"............"

"But if you do have those needs, do let me know in advance. I-I do need some time to get mentally prepared after all."

"............"

Following that, Shigure said.

"All right, I'll start cleaning up the room. Sayuri, you......"

"Yeah, I'll make dinner. Guren-sama, what'll you like to eat?"

Even though nothing had been resolved yet, the two of them started acting as if the conversation had already ended.

While feeling exasperated at his two retainers who only knew how to rebel against him,

"...... curry."

He merely replied.

"Got it!"

Sayuri responded joyfully, and with that, the two of them who were already bent on living in this unit started moving briskly.

"...... Haah."

Guren sighed tiredly.

Still sitting on the sofa, he then took out his cellphone. He called home. After a few rings, someone on the other side picked up.

"Guren huh."

On the other end of the phone was the man who was head of the Ichinose House.

In other words, it was Guren's father.

Guren replied to his father.

"Yeah, it's me."

"How're things over there?"

"My retainers aren't listening to me."

"Haha, I ordered them not to."

"Don't go about giving unnecessary orders."

"And? How's school?"

On hearing his father's question, Guren recalled what had happened today.

About having a cola thrown at him as early as while he was commuting to school, and about Hiiragi Shinya.

And also, about Mahiru at school. About how he thought that his father was probably hiding Mahiru's engagement status from himself.

He recalled all those things,

"Nothing special."

"I see. Nothing special huh."

"Yeah."

"Well, you are strong, unlike me."

"You are stronger, Dad. I'm just short-tempered."

"Haha...... I see. But, if the time comes when you need help......"

But, Guren cut him oﬀ and said.

"No problem. If I can't overcome such a thing, I can't call myself the next head of Ichinose right?"

"Is that so...... as your father, I would want to help you but, you are a son who has surpassed his father."

"There's no way such a thing could happen. Anyway, how're things on your side?"

"As usual. Don't worry."

"I see. Then it's fine. I'm going to hang up."

"All right. Guren."

"Hn?"

"Be careful."

His father said. Guren then nodded,

"Got it. See ya."

"Yeah."

With that, the call ended.

Judging that the call had ended, Shigure asked.

"Guren-sama."

"Hn?"

"Do you have anything you want me to unpack first?"

Guren turned towards Shigure and replied.

"No, just leave my stuﬀ. Go unpack your own stuﬀ."

"But."

"Aah, then, unpack the luggage in the room beside the entrance hall first. Since those contain sorcery tools."

"Understood."

Shigure bowed, and with small brisk steps, she headed into the room beside the entrance hall.

Guren looked intently at that petite back, then called out to Sayuri who was in the kitchen.

"Hey Sayuri."

"Yes, what is it?"

"How long before dinner's ready?"

"Erm, if you are okay with not letting it simmer, it'd take around an hour......"

"I see. An hour huh."

"Do you want it faster?"

"No, let it simmer. I will take a nap in the adjacent unit."

Upon saying that, Guren stood up. He then grabbed the long, black bag that was placed in a corner of the living room.

In this bag was a so-called Japanese sword.

The Ichinose House is primarily a house that had developed a style which combined sword skills with the use of sorcery, and when it came to just the use of the sword, they should not lose to the Hiiragi House.

Thus, if Guren did not use his katana, he could not utilize his full strength, but, he had no intention of drawing his katana from its scabbard in school.

He had planned to graduate without showing his true strength ---

without showing the growth of Ichinose's sorcery to the Hiiragi.

However, he still needed to train.

Thus he grabbed the bag which was fashioned to be carried over the shoulder, in which the sword was kept. He extinguished his presence so that Sayuri and Shigure were unable to notice his movements.

"............"

With that, he exited the unit.

He was heading to the floor above.

The Ichinose House should have completely modified a single unit on the floor above into a training ground. So he was heading towards that unit.

He advanced to the elevator from the entrance and pressed the button for the elevator.

In this apartment, there were two layers of automatic locks; only a resident of the condo or someone who was granted access by a resident could take the elevator and they could only exit the elevator on the floor which they had access to; but yet, someone was in the elevator that came up.

This apartment had 27 floors.

And right now, Guren was on the 25th floor. Furthermore, the floor above, the 26th floor, was completely rented by the Ichinose House, and the 27th floor above that was where the owner of the building and his family lived.

And right now, there was a man inside the elevator.

A man in a black suit, roughly in his early 20s.

The only ones who could come up till this floor would either be the people of the Ichinose House, or the owner's family who was living on the 27th floor.

Guren looked at the man.

The man smiled, bowed, and asked,

"Good evening, are you going up?"

Guren nodded and said.

"Yeah, that's right. Are you going to the 27th floor?"

The man grinned and nodded.

"Yes."

"Then, you are with the owner's family?"

"That's right."

"Right. I see. We'll be looking forward to your acquaintance for the next 3 years."

"No no. It's us who are very pleased to have such a respectable tenant to stay with us."

He said.

Guren nodded, and got on the elevator. He turned around. He then looked at the floor selection buttons of the elevator.

The owner's floor, the 27th floor, was not selected. Rather, none of the floors were selected.

In other words, the destination floor of this man, was the 25th floor which Guren was at right now. But yet, this man lied and pretended to be with the owner's family.

And even used a lie which would be found out the moment Guren entered the elevator.

Which meant, this man was,

"An assassin huh."

Guren lowered his body. He immediately tore open the bag he was shouldering, threw it away, and drew his katana from its scabbard. It should be a diﬃcult thing to draw a katana in such a tight space, but he was already used to it.

The ability to use his swords wherever he was under any circumstances had been drilled into him since young.

The man reacted too. Rather, it seemed as if he was prepared, waiting for this moment. He brought out something from his pocket. He immediately knew that they were chains the instant his katana struck against them.

The chains were bounded by several charms.

He had never seen those charms before.

At the very least, they were not charms used by the Hiiragi.

The charms used by the Hiiragis were developed in sophistication based on Vajrayana and Onmyōdō, with elements of various sorcery science found throughout the world introduced into them; and the Ichinose who had the same origin, could decipher them to a certain extent.

However, the charm used by the man was fundamentally of a diﬀerent kind from those of the Hiiragi House and Ichinose House. It was probably based on Western Europe wizardry. Kabbalah or perhaps something else? It seemed like ancient Japanese sorcery techniques were mixed into it but --- Guren was unable to decipher it.

The man tried to bind Guren's katana with those chains which had those strange charms attached to them.

Guren kicked the man's stomach with his foot, and prevented him from pulling his katana. He further went on to touch the sleeve of his school uniform with the fingers of his left hand. He then pulled out a talisman that had been tucked in there, and completed the Kuji gestures with his fingers.

Instantly, the talisman burst and disappeared, and at the same time, a flash of lightning appeared right before the man's eyes.

It was diﬀerent from the spell used by Shinya on Guren this morning. Compared to what Shinya used, the one used by Guren was faster, smoother, and possessed the power to kill a person.

The man's eyes widened. Little streaks of lightning popped out and were about to pierce through those wide open eyes.

If the opponent was a normal person, his eyes would probably be destroyed.

But Guren did not stop moving. He aimed at the man's neck with his drawn katana.

"Haha, ha, amazing...... no mercy at all."

While saying that, the man lifted his right arm.

However, Guren did not care and continued swinging his katana.

His swing was so fierce that it would not just sever the foe's arm, but also his neck.

But, klang, the high-pitched sound of what seemed to be metal clashing against metal rang out, and the katana was stopped.

It struck the bone of the man's arm. But if that was a human being's arm, it should have been severed. No, even if it were protected by iron armor, Guren was confident of cutting it apart.

But the katana stopped.

The man looked at Guren and smiled.

His eyes were not crushed. And at that moment, from the flesh of the arm that was cut, black smoke spouted and as if it possessed a will of its own, it thrusted towards Guren......

"Damn, I'm disadvantaged in such a narrow place."

Guren immediately drew back. He jumped out of the elevator. At the same as he exited, he took out a few talismans from his pocket and threw them. They stuck to the four corners of the elevator entrance, and created a barrier.

A barrier that would kill anyone who stepped out.

With that, he sheathed his katana back into its scabbard. He shifted his scabbard to the belt around his waist, and adopted an Iai pose.

Then, he said to the man in black suit inside the elevator who had a grin on his face,

"Now ~, come out. I will detach your head with my next draw."

But the man did not come out.

He merely smiled in delight, and using his dangling cut arm in a dexterous manner, he pressed the 『open』 button to hold the elevator door open.

The man then looked hard at Guren and said.

"My, as expected of the candidate to succeed the Ichinose House. Scary...... to think that you can cut a human being who just happened to board the same elevator without any hesitation......”

Guren looked hard at the arm that was spouting black smoke, and replied.

"Screw you, you aren't just a human right?"

"Haha, that's upsetting."

"But you are no vampire either. Those creatures have no interest in humans."

"............"

"In that case, you must be an assassin sent by someone...... were you sent by the Hiiragi House?"

The man then grinned and spread both his hands,

"How smart......"

But Guren cut him oﬀ and said.

"Don't fuck with me. The enchantments on your chains don't belong to the Hiiragi. Besides, the Hiiragi won't send assassins just for the sake of killing people of the Ichinose House which they had been ridiculing. Now speak, who the hell are you?"

Guren then went on to lower his body. He gathered the strength to draw his katana into his whole body. Powerful enchantments had been imbued into the scabbard beforehand, and in order to invoke them, Guren kept twirling his ring finger and little finger again and again, inscribing the curse verses. Before long, all the curse verses were completed. It was a curse so powerful that it painted the blade which it was placed in red.

Guren then said.

To the man,

"If you don't tell the truth, I'll kill you, you know?"

The man then looked intently at Guren and replied.

"Aah, you saw through me that fast huh. I see. You are more capable than I thought......"

But in the midst of those words, Guren drew out his sword.

Rather, he never had the intention to talk right from the beginning. This fellow would not tell the truth anyway. When Guren asked whether he was an assassin sent by the Hiiragi House, he judged based on his lie that it was meaningless to talk with him.

So he unsheathed his sword.

The man's face turned into surprise for an instant.

But that was just an instant.

The katana came in from below the right side of the man's trunk. It immediately struck his rib. Klaaaang, like just now when he cut his arm, the sound of the katana blade bouncing oﬀ metal could be heard, but,

"Cut throuuuuugh it!"

Guren shouted. The red blade trembled, and with that it cut upwards. Slicing through the rib, it exited from the top of the left shoulder.

If he did not die from that, he would be a true monster.

Then.

"Haha."

The man looked at him and laughed.

He was really a monster.

From the torso that was cut, black smoke and chains wrapped in charms that he had never seen before came flying out, attempting to restrain Guren.

Once again, Guren tried to retreat back out of the elevator.

But his right arm, which was holding onto the katana, was caught. Looking hard at that, he thought. Should he detach the joint of his arm? But if he did that, his katana would be taken away from him. Then, should he ignore the chains once again and try to cut him?

However, was it the right choice to continue battling his foe inside the cramped elevator while he had yet to get a good grasp of his opponent's abilities?

Especially that black smoke.

The chains were fine. Since he could more or less tell its capabilities. But he could not tell what kind of power the smoke possessed. At any rate, it would not seem good if he breathe in any of that. That was why during the battle inside the elevator, Guren had never taken a breath.

The man then said.

"You are truly amazing. You should already be rendered motionless by the poison in the smoke but yet...... you held your breath during our fight?"

Guren glared at his enemy and said.

"I don't want the praise of someone who can still jump around with a split torso after receiving my curse."

"Ah-haha, this is amazing right?"

Once again, the man laughed in delight as he spread his hands. Both the chains and smoke were squirming in mid-air as if they had a body and a will of their own.

Guren looked hard at them and said.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Who do you think I am?"

"A monster."

"Haha, despite what you see, I'm a full-fledged human."

He said.

Guren then scowled at those words,

"Human...... human huh. Which means that you have been modified into a Chimera Remodeled Combatant through human experimentation?"

The man smiled and replied.

"Yeah. The Ichinose --- the people of 『Mikado no Tsukki』 also do something like this right?"

But Guren shook his head.

"I don't know about the Hiiragi, but we don't. In the first place, even without human experimentation, I'm stronger than you bastard."

"Ah-haha, maybe."

"And? Enough of your show. Who the hell are you? Which organization do you belong to, and what's your purpose for coming here?"

Maybe it was because the man felt like answering honestly, he concealed his chains in his body, and even the smoke subsided. No, at the same time, even the cut-up suit had its tears closed up. Guren did not know what kind of setup was behind all that. Was that suit part of the body, or was it a separate thing?

Maybe during the next time when I attack, I should try using a fire spell to burn that smoke? Guren considered in his head.

At that moment, the man said his name.

"Well then, let me first tell you my name. My name is Kijima Makoto. I am with the 《Hyakuya Sect》."

"The《Hyakuya Sect》?"

Guren murmured and narrowed his eyes on hearing that name.

The《Hyakuya Sect》 was the name of a considerably large sorcery organization that was said to be supported by a secret division of the country.

Though many ordinary folk were unaware of this, the《Hyakuya Sect》 was a large organization that could be said to have supported this country from the shadows, with many politicians having received aid from it.

Throughout the ages, whenever the seat of power of the nation changed, the 《Hyakuya Sect》 and the Hiiragi House, which was also a large-scale sorcery organization would repeatedly engage in skirmishes to determine who would become the backer of the ruling power; but, since the second world war, the 《Hyakuya Sect》, having received the support of America, had become the backbone sorcery organization of this country.

Rumor has it that they would do anything to acquire power and influence.

Murder.

Kidnap.

War.

And human experimentation.

The terrible stories about how the children of the orphanages run by the《Hyakuya Sect》 were treated were especially famous.

It was said that the parents of children with special talents were killed, the children were then assembled in the orphanages and terrible experiments were conducted on them repeatedly.

Maybe this man was also one of the monsters who were created from such an orphanage.

"I'm not interested."

"Haha, you're such a liar."

"So, what on earth do you want today? Are you trying to test my loyalty?"

Putting aside Hiiragi Shinya, why is this guy also trying to involve me in going against the Hiiragi House? This is only the first day of school you know?

Guren smiled wryly to himself.

Kijima then said.

"I checked up on your past."

"Don't do that without my permission."

"You are feeling a deep rage towards your current situation."

"Huh. And?"

"No oﬀense meant, but with your powers alone, you have no hope of crushing the Hiiragi House."

"Hm. And so?"

"But with us......"

But Guren cut him oﬀ,

"I'm not interested. Besides, even if I'm interested, I won't join you."

Kijimi then looked hard at Guren and said.

"Why is that so?"

Guren then grinned and replied.

"Since a long time ago, I've always liked the first prize. But if I join you, you guys will take the first prize right?"

"............"

"And then, the next time, the 《Hyakuya Sect》 will be ridiculing the Ichinose, won't it? Don't fuck with me. We're done here, now disappear."

"............"

"Or should I erase your existence by killing you?"

With that, Guren once again gripped the sword in its scabbard.

Kijima then smiled.

"You can't......"

"I can win. If I really intend to kill you, I won't go easy next time."

"............"

"I'll definitely kill oﬀ anyone who has seen my true power. But I'll wait for 5 seconds. Go back. Go back and tell your higher ups that the Ichinose won't change sides. I'm going to start counting now. Five......"

"............"

"Four......"

At that moment, he tightened his grip on his katana hilt.

With his consciousness, he touched the sealed portion of Kujakumaru --- a katana that would emit and give rise to a red curse aura originating from sorcery.

"Three......"

At that moment, Kijima's initial relaxed attitude disappeared from his face.

"Aah, damn, what the heck. You're completely diﬀerent from before......

It's not a bluﬀ huh. I got it. I'll be taking my leave here......"

"Two......"

"............"

Kijima then shrugged his shoulders, and pressed the 'close' button of the elevator. The elevator door started closing. In the midst of it, he said.

"But, you'll definitely regret not joining us......"

"One."

But at that moment, the elevator started descending. Kijima was gone.

Guren looked intently at the elevator,

"...... hah. The《Hyakuya Sect》 huh. Will there be a war in the near future?"

Guren said with a small sigh as his hand left his katana.

And if that were to happen, then the chance of crushing the Hiiragi might appear, he thought.

That was how large the scale of the《Hyakuya Sect》 was. It was rumored that their power had even spread to other countries. If the 《Hyakuya Sect》 and 『Mikado no Oni』 clashed against each other, then during this confusion, the possibility of『Mikado no Tsukki』claiming supremacy might ---

At that moment, a voice came from the entrance.

"Guren-sama! Guren-sama!"

It was the voice of Sayuri. She was strangely in a fluster for some reason. Patah patah, the sounds of her running could be heard, and before long, she found Guren.

"Ah, there you are! Guren-sama! It'd be troubling if you just go out like that without letting us know!"

"Ah ~, no, I was just about to go to the training ground......"

Then, from behind Sayuri, Shigure said.

"We haven't finished cleaning up the training ground yet. We'll be done with it tomorrow, so please just rest easy today."

"Hm. Well, you're right. I'm a little tired today. How's the curry?"

On hearing his question, a shocked expression suddenly appeared on Sayuri's face,

"Ah, I've left the stove on!"

She rushed back into the room.

Shigure turned around and stared after her, then turned back to look at Guren, at the katana at his waist, and said.

"Did you draw your katana here?"

"Hn? Ah ~, that's right. This elevator waiting area is pretty spacious."

"Then, shall I prepare this area for you to train until tomorrow? It's also troublesome to keep going up each time."

"Aah, that'd be great. Please do that."

Guren wrapped his katana with the bag that was lying on the floor, and started walking.

Shigure then said.

"Guren-sama."

"Hn?"

"Did something happen?"

Guren then turned around, grinned at the somewhat worried-looking Shigure, and replied.

"Nothing. It's just the usual."

~CH 3 END~

T/N: I’ll be uploading chapter 4 soon!!

<< Chapter 2 || Chapter 4>>

#ichinose guren #mahiru hiiragi #juujo mito #sayuri hanayori #yukimi shigure #owari no seraph #ichinose guren's catastrophe at 16 #guren ln #mushroom translates

55 notes · View notes

jennycalendar · 8 years ago

Text

second chances

jfc this fic has such a backstory behind it. i started working on it in late june at midnight when i was Sad™ and then i read it two days later and was like “this is so awful” and forgot about it, and then i opened it up three months after that and was like “oh my god this is really good” and i’ve been writing it on and off ever since and dsljkdsjkldfsjkl i just love it so much??

anyway if you like anya, this is a good fic. if you like jenny, this is a good fic. if you like anya accidentally making friends with ghost jenny, definitely one of the only best fics out there for you.

it’s also on ao3 because it’s really, really, absurdly long.

Anya is thoroughly irritated.

“You know,” she says, “it’s not impossible for you to not touch things when we have customers in the shop.”

“I was just trying to read,” the ghost shoots back, looking somewhat affronted. “And it’s a magic shop. Why would customers be surprised by a book moving on its own? Are you running a novelty magic shop or the real thing?”

“Do not,” Anya says through gritted teeth, “insult this shop, or I swear I’ll exorcise you.”

“I’m pretty sure that won’t work,” says the ghost with a saccharine smile and turns another page. “Besides which, you seem like you could use the company.”

This is true, but Anya will be damned if she’ll let the ghost know it. “I have an overseas business partner,” she says. “He could come back any day now and keep me company in the shop. He’d probably tell you to go away. And you’d listen to him.”

The ghost rolls her eyes. “Sure I would,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. She floats through the counter and through Anya, who shivers. “Look,” the ghost says, slightly apologetically, “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I’ve been tense.”

“Tense? You’re dead.” Anya crosses her arms, turning to glower at the ghost, who’s now hovering on her left. “What the hell does a dead person have to be tense about?”

“You’d be surprised,” says the ghost. “Unfinished business and all that.”

The bell on the shop door rings and Buffy comes through. She’s still walking slower than Anya remembers, back from the grave and all that. “Hey,” she says a little tightly. Her eyes aren’t as sparkly as Anya remembers, either.

“Hello, Buffy!” says Anya brightly. She’s heard that cheeriness can improve the mood of others, and sad Buffy means sad everyone else, because everyone else wants Buffy to be happy. Everyone else, of course, mostly means Xander. Everyone else always seems to mean Xander. “Are you here to buy or to look?”

“Neither,” Buffy replies.

“Hi,” says the ghost. Buffy doesn’t see or hear her. Anya hears the ghost’s irritated huff, and then a muttered, “Dead people should recognize dead people. There should be a thing about that.”

“What, is my company not enough for you?” Anya snaps, turning to glare at the ghost.

The ghost looks surprised, and then jerks her head towards a startled Buffy.

“Oh,” says Anya, turning back to Buffy. She hopes she isn’t blushing. It’s a newly human trait she’s acquired, and even after a little over two years, she is neither used to it nor appreciative of it. “Um, there’s a ghost who just showed up and she’s haunting the Magic Box. But she’s not a bad ghost. She’s just exasperating.”

“Right,” says Buffy with a confused frown.

“I could be one hell of a lot more exasperating, so you watch it,” says the ghost from next to Anya. “You could have been stuck with a poltergeist. Sunnydale High had one a few years back, and that was a mess.”

“Fine.” Anya fixes the ghost with an irritable stare. “You’re decent, as ghosts go.”

“Thank you.” The ghost gives her a genuine grin.

Anya rarely makes people smile like that. Surprised, she smiles back.

“Are you sure it’s a ghost?” Buffy asks, sounding somewhat uneasy. “It could be something else.”

“Like a mental breakdown,” the ghost suggests, surprisingly nonchalantly for one who’s suggesting that they’re merely a figment of Anya’s imagination.

“I doubt it,” says Anya. “If I were having a mental breakdown, I think I’d have a more frightening ghost.”

“Fair enough,” says the ghost.

Buffy doesn’t look any less disturbed.

A few hours later they believe her, sure. The ghost carries a stack of books around the room with a very self-suffering expression on her face that only Anya can see, and then Willow and Tara do a ward spell while the ghost stands in the center of the room (she sneezes when Willow and Tara bring out the magic dust), and they conclude that there is definitely a ghost. Anya is a bit bitter that it takes Willow and Tara’s spell to convince everyone. When Buffy or Willow or Xander said there was a ghost, there was always a ghost. No question about it.

The ghost points out that actually, it seems reasonable that Anya would face the amount of questioning that she did when making baseless claims. Anya tells her to be quiet.

Then the Scooby meeting starts up and Anya decides to ignore most of it in favor of talking to the ghost. The ghost evades any actual questions Anya asks her about what her pre-death life was like, except for an insinuation that she once knew Willow.

“She’s grown up,” she says to Anya from where she’s sitting in what would look like an empty chair to the casual observer.

“Is that a good thing?” Anya replies, confused. “You make it sound bad.”

“Ahn, could you not talk to the ghost during the meeting?” Xander says in an almost exasperated fashion.

That annoys Anya. It isn’t her fault they can’t see the ghost. “Wait, this is important,” she says dismissively, and turns back to the ghost.

The ghost sighs and runs a hand through her hair. Anya sometimes wonders what color it was when the ghost was alive. She’s not transparent, but she’s different hues of silver, and it’s impossible to tell what she looked like as a living, breathing human. It seems strange to ask. “She didn’t get enough training. Wasn’t there anyone who could have tried to teach her?”

“I thought Tara did a pretty good job of that,” Anya replies, confused.

“Tara’s a sweet girl, but Willow’s power surpasses hers,” says the ghost, sounding worried. She glances over at Tara. “All Willow’s heard from Tara is how good she is at what she does. And I’m so, so glad for her, because she deserves to hear that and believe it, but—” She stops.

“But?” Anya prompts. The other Scoobies have stopped listening to the conversation. This is what usually happens.

The ghost hesitates. “I’m worried about what happens if she decides she’s good enough to reshape the rules,” she says, and turns back to the table. “So. Research on the demon thing?”

“I don’t know if you can help with this,” says Anya as tactfully as she can. “You aren’t technically a Scooby, you know. No one else can see or hear you.”

“The tact thing kind of,” the ghost waves a hand, “went out the window after the ‘aren’t technically a Scooby’ part. But I’ll give you an A for effort.”

“You’d make a lousy teacher,” says Anya. “You should be grading on the quality of my work.”

The ghost laughs. “Just pass me a book,” she says. “I may not be a Scooby, but I do happen to be somewhat fond of helping save the world.”

“I mean, I don’t know if it’s really the world so much as Sunnydale, but hey, whatever works for you.” Anya finds a book and hands it to the ghost, who picks it up, leans back in the chair, and falls straight through it.

“Fucking hell,” says the ghost from where she’s now sprawled on the floor.

“Read books standing up, remember?” says Anya, looking down at the ghost. “You can’t focus on being material enough to sit and being material enough to read a book at the same time.”

“Someday I will,” the ghost says, sitting up on the floor and turning a page of the book, which is lying open on the ground. “I’m getting better at it, at any rate.”

“Sure,” says Anya.

“Can you pass me that?” Buffy asks, pointing to the book the ghost has gotten started on. The ghost fixes Buffy with a look that reminds Anya somewhat of an irate Giles. She wonders if the ghost is somehow related to him. After all, the ghost is haunting his shop. That could mean something.

“Are you—” Anya begins, intending to inquire as to the ghost’s possible relation to Giles, but Buffy intervenes by clearing her throat loudly. “Oh,” she says awkwardly. “Sorry.” She takes the book away from the ghost, who utters a long-suffering sigh and is pissed off even after Anya finds her another book.

In that vein, the ghost really likes complaining about things. Right now, she’s going off on a tangent about how bad the wifi in the Magic Box is.

“You know, it’s actually important to consider that in this day and age, making an online platform for the Magic Box—”

“I did that,” says Anya, who is counting the money. “Go away.”

“Okay, but see, that’s my point,” says the ghost, and actually comes closer to Anya, who is wondering if there is any way to shove an incorporeal being into a wall or something. “If you don’t have quality wifi in your shop, you don’t have the means to access and edit your platform. Not to mention that this antiquated system of keeping track of ingredients and products is so much slower than having an online database of items.”

“That’s Giles’s system,” says Anya, “and I don’t think he’ll be pleased if I change it.”

“Isn’t he off in England?” pushes the ghost.

“He doesn’t like computers,” Anya replies. “He’d be horrified if he came back and found his system had been replaced with a computerized database. Besides which, it seems like a lot of unnecessary work.”

“I could—”

“No,” says Anya, shutting the cash register and finally looking up at the ghost, “you could not, especially given that you’ve only recently learned how to pick things up. Typing would be ridiculously hard for you and it would take very long and be very annoying to listen to.”

“I feel so touched by your concern for my time,” the ghost quips.

Anya looks up at her. “You’re dead,” she points out. “You’ve got more time than the rest of us. I just don’t want lots of annoying slow typing in the store. It’s one of the worst sounds.”

To her surprise, the ghost actually laughs. “I get that,” she says. “I hated slow typers when I was alive. But that might have been—” She looks down, wiggles her fingers. “My boyfriend always used to say I had quick hands.”

Anya feels a strange twist of something in her stomach. A few years of being human, yet she still isn’t quite used to feeling sad for other people. What was the word? Empathy? Pity? “Where is he now?” she asks, hoping she doesn’t sound too awkward.

The ghost opens her mouth, a half-smile on her lips, and then she suddenly shuts it. “Not something I really feel like talking about,” she says stiffly.

“No, you just don’t want to talk about it with me,” Anya observes. She doesn’t feel upset, just confused. The ghost doesn’t overshare much anyway, and she’s learned not to take offense when the ghost decides she doesn’t want to talk. This doesn’t mean she doesn’t stop inquiring, however. “Do you know what happened to him, at least?”

The ghost looks kind of tired and sad all of a sudden. “Yeah,” she says. “He’s alive. I think he’s doing okay.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to see you if you two meet up?” Anya asks.

“Hmm?” The ghost suddenly seems a little spacey. Anya wonders if she’s still in love with this boyfriend guy. She wonders when the ghost died, and how, and why. The ghost never seems to talk about it.

“Your boyfriend,” says Anya. “Do you think he’ll be able to see you? I mean, I can see you, and we’re still not sure why it’s only me, but maybe he might too. True love and all that.”

“By that logic, I’m your true love,” says the ghost in amusement, “and while you’re cute, you aren’t exactly my type.”

“Your type?” Anya repeats, not sure whether or not to be insulted.

“I mean, you’re cute, but there’s a little bit of an age difference,” quips the ghost.

“It doesn’t seem to bother Xander,” Anya says huffily, forgetting for a moment that the ghost doesn’t know about Anyanka. Then something else hits her. “Wait, I thought you said you had a boyfriend?” she says, surprised.

“Yeah, well, I go both ways,” the ghost replies casually. “Never got the chance to tell him that. And he’s technically an ex,” she adds with clear sadness.

“I find that death never comes at a convenient time,” Anya informs the ghost in an attempt at comfort. “I’m sure you and he would have worked it out eventually.”

“I like to think that,” says the ghost.

Xander still hasn’t told anyone about the engagement, and he still isn’t letting Anya tell anyone about the engagement, and it’s leaving her with an unpleasant knot in her stomach that doesn’t seem to be going away. When he’s smiling at her, everything seems like it’s going to be okay, but his promises aren’t sounding as promising as the days go by and nothing changes.

She wishes something really, really bad would happen. Then they’d need happy news, and Xander would tell everyone that they were engaged, and they could start planning a wedding that would cheer everyone up. Or something like that. She doesn’t want a wedding in the wake of tragedy, but she really, really wants a wedding, regardless of what it takes to spur Xander into action.

“When you love someone a lot, don’t you try and put them first?” Anya asks the ghost one day. “Like, let’s say you’re scared of doing something, but the person you love really wants it. Wouldn’t you try and do it for them, regardless of how nervous you are?”

The ghost is quiet, and then she replies, “I did.”

“And?” Anya prompts.

The ghost smiles a little tiredly. “I ended up dead,” she says. “But he ended up happy, even if he forgot me.”

Anya takes a moment to digest this, and then, “Yes, but what if it’s something that’s not really that scary and isn’t actually going to lead to your demise?”

“Is it scary for him?” the ghost replies.

“It shouldn’t be,” says Anya sulkily.

“Maybe not for you, but maybe it—”

“Xander isn’t telling anyone that we’re engaged,” Anya blurts out. “He hasn’t said a thing about it to anyone, and he’s not letting me tell anyone, and it’s been months, and he keeps on saying crap about waiting for the right moment, and I just want to tell everyone, but he doesn’t, and it’s not—”

“Anya,” says the ghost, and reaches out to her.

“It’s not fair,” Anya half-sobs. She leans into the ghost’s touch. She can almost feel the pressure of a cool hand on her shoulder. “Am I not good enough for him? Is he ashamed of me?”

“You know what, he’s kind of being an idiot,” says the ghost. “I amend that—he is definitely being an idiot. Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“I have! And—and he just keeps on saying things about how he wants all the steps to be just the right amount, and then we start kissing, and it’s just a mess.” Anya takes a shuddering breath and manages not to cry. It’s an effort. “Was your boyfriend like this?”

The ghost smiles a little wryly. “No,” she says. “He was fairly straightforward when it came to our relationship. It was mostly me that was the problem.” She squeezes Anya’s shoulder. “The thing is, that’s not the case here, okay? Whatever’s going on here is Xander’s responsibility to figure out.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Anya asks, voice wobbling.

“Then you move on,” says the ghost. “Which I know is so hard to do after falling in love. It’s what kept me here in the first place. Love is a pretty damn powerful force, but so are you. You survived without him before, right?”

“I was a monster before him,” says Anya. “I was nothing.” She looks up at the ghost, unsure of how much she wants to divulge.

“I know,” says the ghost.

“You don’t,” Anya dismisses her.

“I do.” The ghost smiles a little tiredly. “I think we both know Cordelia, right? Cordelia Chase? The last girl you granted a wish to?”

Anya’s breath freezes in her throat as she stares at the ghost.

“Anyanka,” says the ghost. There’s no loathing or anger in the way she says the name. “But you’ve changed.”

“Because of Xander,” Anya insists. “Because I fell in love. I was human, and then I was in love. I haven’t been human without knowing Xander, and I,” her voice catches. “I don’t know if I can be.”

The ghost considers this. Then she says, “Whether or not he leaves, I’ll still be here. Will that be good?”

Anya thinks about this. She imagines a life without Xander. She imagines the ghost, who probably came to the shop for a whole other reason, sticking around and helping her and maybe helping a little with running the shop. “It’ll be good,” she says.

She brings the engagement up to Xander at dinnertime and they have another conversation that goes nowhere and she heads back to the Magic Box and just cries for a few hours. The ghost sits with her and doesn’t say anything. There’s something strangely comforting about that, especially since her house with Xander is always full of chatter. Sometimes it’s him, sometimes it’s her, sometimes it’s them arguing. Anya is learning to like silence.

When Xander shows up with the rest of the Scoobies, they have another conversation like that, except this time it’s in front of the ghost (who is tactfully pretending not to listen) and Tara and Dawn (who actually can’t hear them, being that they’re on the other side of the room). And then they start talking about the demon that attacked Buffy at the bank.

Everyone’s talking and Anya is only half paying attention because the ghost has started acting antsy. She’s fidgeting in her chair and playing with the sleeves of her shirt and fussing with her silvery hair. Her nervousness is the most tangible thing about her.

“You okay?” she asks the ghost.

“Fine,” the ghost replies breathlessly. “Excuse me.” She gets up, knocking over a chair. The rest of the Scoobies jump.

“Just the ghost,” says Anya.

“Does the ghost have a name?” Xander asks.

“Yeah, it’s getting a little bit weird to hear her called the ghost all the time,” Dawn adds.

“They do have a point,” says Anya, and turns to the ghost. “So what is your name?”

“I have to go,” says the ghost, and runs down into the basement. Anya watches with bemusement, debating whether or not to hurry after her.

“What’s her name?” Willow asks with interest.

“I don’t know,” says Anya. “She’s been all nervous since the meeting started, and when I asked her name, she ran away.”

“Maybe she’s feeling shy,” Tara contributes, a sympathetic look on her face. Fear spikes in Anya. She doesn’t want the ghost to like Tara better than her. Everyone likes Tara better than her. If Tara could see the ghost, the ghost would probably like Tara better than her.

“Give me a minute,” she says, and hurries into the basement after the ghost.

The ghost is sitting on a crate.

“Are you okay?” Anya asks, and finds that she genuinely wants to know.

Wordlessly, the ghost shakes her head.

“Can I stay?” Anya asks, sitting down on the crate next to the ghost. The ghost stares straight ahead, an almost carefully crafted blank expression on her face. Anya decides to take that as a yes. “I get the sense you aren’t big on sharing,” she comments.

The ghost nods slowly. “Not especially,” she replies.

“Neither am I,” says Anya. “Not the important things.”

“Maybe it just depends on the people,” says the ghost. She turns to Anya. “Jenny,” she says.

“Huh?” says Anya.

“My name.” The ghost kind of smiles. “It’s Jenny.”

“Oh!” Anya smiles back, delighted. “Well, then, nice to meet you, Jenny,” she says.

She sticks out her hand. Jenny takes it. Anya ignores the chill and the strange feeling of there almost being a hand clasped in hers, shaking Jenny’s hand instead.

Jenny is the one to break the handshake, tucking a stray lock of ghostly hair behind her ear. “Well. Wow. I’m sorry for running out like that,” she says. “I’ve been feeling a little tense ever since the meeting started. I’m not sure why.”

“It’s fine,” Anya replies dismissively. “Scooby meetings are always tense. You never know who’s going to—”

Dawn comes running down the basement steps, eyes alight, a big grin on her face. “Anya, Giles is back!” she blurts out. “He’s back!”

“What?” says Anya, feeling a strange mixture of indignation and a surprising delight. “Oh! He can’t take the shop back. He signed papers. I made sure.”

“No, he’s here to see Buffy!” Dawn explains excitedly. “Come on, you and the ghost should come up and say hi!”

Anya glances over at Jenny, who for some reason has become even paler than she would have believed possible of a ghost. “I’m guessing you’re not that into meeting him,” she says, feeling proud of herself for being able to read Jenny well enough to know this.

“No, not really,” says Jenny, and smiles. It looks forced. “I didn’t—you said he was in England.”

“He’s back now, apparently,” Anya replies. “Would you like to meet him?”

“I’m okay,” says Jenny. “I’ll stay down here.”

Anya hurries upstairs. Giles is in the training room, apparently, talking to Buffy or something. She’s tempted to go back down into the basement with Jenny, but Xander pulls her over and suddenly they’re talking demons again.

Giles comes out about five minutes later, and Anya’s heart leaps. She’s missed him. As nice as it is being a shop proprietor, it was even nicer when she had company.

“Giles!” she half-shouts, running over to him and tackling him in a tight hug. He makes a small oof sound, but hugs her back. “We're so glad to see you. We missed you.” She pulls away slightly to look at him. “You can't have the store back,” she informs him seriously.

“I know,” Giles agrees.

“You signed papers,” Anya adds.

“I did,” says Giles. And then he starts to say something else, but Dawn calls, “Anya, where’s the ghost?”

“Ghost?” says Giles, bemused.

Anya steps away from him. “Yeah,” she says conversationally. “The ghost. She’s been haunting the Magic Box for a few weeks and bothering me about getting better wifi because apparently I’m the only one who can see her.”

“Better wifi?” Giles repeats.

“Seems like a pretty petty thing to haunt a magic shop over,” Xander says, sounding amused.

“She’s not—” Anya flares up in defense before she remembers that none of them really know Jenny aside from what she’s told them. “Okay,” she says. “My point is that there’s a ghost in the Magic Box. But she’s a good ghost, so it’s fine.”

“She might be a little shy,” Tara adds.

“Is she—can I see her?” Giles asks curiously.

“She’s not really into meeting you,” Anya explains, thinking of Jenny, pale, sitting on the crate. “I’m not sure why. I think she’s nervous.”

“Of course,” says Giles. He doesn’t sound like he understands, but he also doesn’t sound like he wants to press the subject, which is dropped as everyone goes back to talking about demons.

Giles is pretty preoccupied, and therefore doesn’t seem all that interested in finding out about the ghost that’s haunting his shop. Once Jenny picks up on this, she seems more at ease, and Anya would definitely ask her about it if not for the fact that Jenny still looks nervous every time Giles so much as looks in her direction. Whatever’s going on with her, it seems deeply personal, and Anya’s learned from her years as a human that it isn’t wise to pry.

It’s a little weird to talk to Jenny while Giles is going through inventory, or sweeping the shop, but Anya’s getting used to keeping her voice low. Giles seems to be pretty good at tuning out conversations anyway. Probably all that practice with the Scoobies when they were in high school.

“I was talking to Xander today,” Anya says. Then, considering her words, “Is it boring that I never talk to you about anything but Xander?”

“Not really,” Jenny replies. “It’s better than listening to the sound of Rupert cleaning the place up.”

“Rupert?” Anya repeats.

To her surprise, Giles turns from where he’s been sorting through some of the spellbooks. “Yes?” he says.

Anya looks between Giles (looking at her expectantly) and Jenny (who looks like she’s suddenly made a very big mistake) and frowns slightly. “No, I was just talking to the ghost,” she explains, and for some reason, Jenny goes even more pale. Hastily, Anya amends, “About nothing! I just, um, what’s up?”

“You said my name,” says Giles bemusedly.

“Oh! Yeah—” Anya glances over at Jenny, who seems to be trying to back away from the two of them. “I was wondering if you could see the ghost too. At all. Or hear her, or something.”

“Ah.” Giles still looks a bit confused. “Well, then, my answer continues to be no. My apologies to the ghost.”

“All right,” Anya agrees, and very pointedly motions for Jenny to follow her downstairs into the basement. Jenny doesn’t look very much like she wants to, but Anya glares at her, and she finally seems to give in when Anya’s halfway down the steps.

As soon as they’re down there, Anya turns to Jenny. Screw not prying. “Why are you so nervous around Giles? And why did you call him Rupert? I didn’t even know his name was Rupert.”

“Um,” says Jenny awkwardly. “That’s—I really shouldn’t say.”

“Who told you that you shouldn’t say?” Anya demands in a whisper. “You’re dead. You make the rules.”

Jenny presses her lips together and nods. “Honesty would have served me well when I was living, I guess,” she says. “Even if it would have been painful to speak the truth.” She looks at Anya, eyes oddly bright. “I was in love with him,” she said. “Rupert. I guess everyone just calls him Giles now that I’m gone.”

“I think Mrs. Summers called him Rupert sometimes, but it was more of a friend thing,” says Anya. She hesitates, not sure if she should push the subject, but the question comes out before she can stop it. “Did he love you back?”

Jenny looks down at her hands. “I never had the chance to know,” she says quietly.

Anya looks at Jenny’s face, the tired resignation in her eyes the most solid thing about her, and says, “But you still love him now.” This isn’t a question.

Jenny smiles sadly. “Yes,” she says.

“And you stay because you miss him.”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, then—why can’t he see you?” This is what’s puzzled Anya the most. “Why can’t anyone else see you, for that matter, if you knew them more than you knew me?”

“If I really don’t want someone to see me, they won’t see me,” Jenny explains. “What keeps me here is my desire to stay. It’s a delicate balance.”

Anya frowns. “But if you don’t have a reason to stay, other than watching over Giles, then why wouldn’t you want him to see you?” Her head’s starting to hurt from trying to figure all this out. “You never told me how you got here,” she says finally.

Jenny nods. She looks up again. “The Powers gave me a second chance,” she says. “But it’s something of a weighted one. I’ll be brought back to life for good when I have a reason to be, and it can’t be a selfish reason.” She laughs a little self-deprecatingly. “As it happens,” she says, “wanting to be with Rupert constitutes a selfish reason in their eyes.”

“So if he sees you—”

“We get about two seconds before I go back into the great beyond,” Jenny replies. She doesn’t sound all that happy about it. “I fought hard to be here, and they gave me a few minutes to find some kind of reason to stay, even if it was a small one.”

“And—” Suddenly it all clicks with Anya. “Oh,” she says, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

“Yeah.” Jenny twists her hands. “I—saw you at the Magic Box counter, and you looked tired, so I wanted to help you. And it was small, and unselfish, so I’m here in the smallest way I can be.”

“But it’s not enough,” says Anya. She edits her words. “I’m not enough.”

“No,” Jenny says vehemently. “You’re more than enough, Anya. It’s just that my reason has to be something on a long-term basis, not just someone I glance at and casually want to help out a little.” She looks over her shoulder, up the stairs. Anya sees Giles behind the counter. “And he can’t know about any of this,” she says.

“Was that one of the conditions?”

“My least favorite one.” Jenny sits down on one of the cardboard boxes.

Anya hesitates. “I can help,” she says. “If you want. I—don’t know much about saving people. More about hurting them, usually, but maybe that could be a starting place. Just do the opposite of whatever I say. Or something.”

Jenny laughs out loud. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she agrees gamely.

Anya throws herself into research. She can’t tell Giles what she’s up to, but she knows he’s curious, so she brushes him off by saying it’s none of his business and she’s the one who owns the shop anyway, so can’t she look at the books she wants to look at? And it’s weird that she never figured out that Jenny’s in love with Giles, because now that she’s actually looking, she sees the way Jenny’s eyes sparkle with affection when Giles huffs and mutters mutinously about how he should never have hired Anya as an assistant if she isn’t going to be honest with him.

Jenny has a new kind of happy hope in her smile, now, and it makes Anya feel happy too, because she knows that the reason Jenny’s happy is because of her. It’s strange to be the cause of someone’s smile just by being all the way herself.

“Ooh, hey!” Anya calls, and Jenny (who’s been standing next to Giles and watching him do paperwork) looks up with a pleased grin at the sound of her voice. “I found a thing! I—can you come over here?”

“Is this at me or at the ghost?” says Giles somewhat irritably.

“Ghost,” says Anya, and smiles at Jenny.

Jenny grins back. “Sorry, Rupert,” she says, even though he can’t hear her, and hurries over to sit next to Anya. “Whatcha got?”

“There are always hero quests,” Anya explains quietly, making sure Giles can’t hear her. “You know—go out and search for a magical object. Lots of tests and trials and things. If we thought of something really rare and you went to find it, that could work, right? Especially since you’re technically dead already.”

“Hmm.” Jenny frowns. “The thing is, it would have to be something that would help other people, not just myself. I feel like even if we knew where it was located, it might be difficult to pinpoint a magical item that would do that, and if it’s already lost…” She trails off. “It just seems a little bit risky.”

“You’re probably right,” says Anya, and sighs. “I guess you maybe shouldn’t be taking advice on doing good things from an ex-vengeance demon, huh?”

Jenny’s frown dissipates and she reaches forward. Anya feels a ghostly touch, and realizes that Jenny’s tucked a strand of hair gently behind her ear. Almost maternal, which is weird, because Jenny’s way younger than Anya is. Anya wants to ask if Jenny was ever a teacher, but she’s not sure how much she wants to press her. “You’re a good person,” Jenny says, “and you shouldn’t let your past define you. Sure, it shaped you, but that doesn’t mean you have to comply with what you think it’s made you into.”

“You’re pretty optimistic,” says Anya ruefully.

“I died young,” says Jenny, and quirks a smile at her. “My optimism didn’t have enough time to get crushed.”

Anya’s opening her mouth to say something when Giles says, “Anya, perhaps you and the ghost can have a meaningful conversation after business hours are over.”

“Don’t you dare tell me how to run my shop just because you wish you could talk to Je—” Anya just barely manages to catch herself. “The ghost,” she says hastily.

Giles stops. His face changes ever so slightly. “I’m sorry,” he says carefully, “do you—what is this ghost’s name?”

“Um,” says Anya, and fumbles for the first excuse that comes to mind. “I call her—Jellybean. Sometimes. As a nickname. Which is stupid, so, you know, I just call her the ghost in passing.”

There had been a strange, hopeful light in Giles’s eyes, like he’d wanted something but didn’t dare put it into words, and at Anya’s explanation, it abruptly dissipates. “Ah,” he says. His voice now has a hard edge to it, but it’s shaking. “If you’ll—excuse me, please.” He hurries out of the shop, and Anya is stunned to catch a stifled sob as the front door shuts behind him.

Anya stands, and stares, a heavy, awful feeling in her chest, because she never seems to be able to do anything right. This is the sort of thing that Xander gets mad at her over, when she really just didn’t think, and now she’ll turn and that proud, glowing smile on Jenny’s face won’t ever be for her again.

But Jenny’s got a soft look in her eyes, and Anya follows her line of vision out the door. “I—” Her voice breaks. “I think he wanted it to be me.”

“I’m sorry,” says Anya, looking down. “I didn’t mean to—”

Jenny shakes her head. A new smile is spreading over her face, one that’s almost blinding in the hope it contains. “I didn’t know—that he remembered me,” she says. “I never—” She seems almost speechless.

“You’re quite memorable,” says Anya reassuringly, and pats Jenny’s hand. Or tries to. Her hand passes through Jenny’s. But Jenny turns her head and smiles at Anya and that’s really what counts.

Jenny hangs around the Magic Box, mostly, so she’s not there when Anya and Giles are out on patrol. They’re in a graveyard Anya doesn’t usually frequent when Giles suddenly stops, eyes fixed on a tombstone that doesn’t look quite as old as the other ones around it. Anya stops too, and feels her breath catch in her throat. The tombstone reads JENNIFER CALENDAR in large bronze lettering.

“What is it?” she says, even though she already knows. Her voice comes out unusually trembly instead of the casual nonchalance she’s all but perfected.

Giles smiles. There’s a sadness to it. “A story for another day, I think,” he says simply.

It’s more for Jenny than for herself that Anya asks, “Were you in love with her?”

Giles’s smile fades and he looks down, and at first Anya feels this irrational, frustrating anger rising in her, because Jenny’s sweet and smart and probably way out of Giles’s league anyway, but then Giles says, “I think I still am.”

Anya feels herself grin widely. Giles gives her a strange, perturbed look and she quickly schools her expression into something more sympathetic. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she says, trying to make it sound like she is. After all, it’s not like Giles knows that Jenny’s death isn’t going to be a loss at all, not if Anya and Jenny play their cards right. “How—what happened to her?”

Giles hesitates, then, “She was killed by a vampire.”

Suddenly, Anya finds herself wondering more about Jenny than just what her hair color is. Really, Jenny doesn’t much talk about herself at all. And Anya feels weird about bringing it up with Jenny, because she knows how bad she is at sensitivity and she doesn’t just want to flat-out ask how Jenny died and maybe lose her only real friend, so she asks carefully, “But he didn’t turn her or anything? That seems a little weird.”

Giles looks at her strangely, and Anya thinks she sees that little flicker of hope in his eyes again. Maybe that’s why he’s telling her all this in the first place. Smart guy, she thinks. “She was working to resoul Angelus,” he says, “and Angelus found out, and killed her so that we wouldn’t find out about the work she had done.”

“Oh,” says Anya. She feels a new level of respect for Jenny. Resouling rituals aren’t exactly a piece of cake, and most of them have been lost to the ages. Turns out her ghost friend is a much smarter cookie than she’s been letting on, and that’s saying quite a lot. “She sounds kind of amazing.”

“She was,” says Giles. He’s smiling a bit sadly. “I miss her very much.”

He gives her this little sideways look, then, as though he’s hoping Anya will tell him what he wants to hear without him having to ask it. And Anya wants to, so badly, because now she knows how happy it would make both him and Jenny to be together. But she also knows that if Jenny has a selfish reason to stay before she finds her unselfish reason, then Jenny’s gone for good, so Anya says, “I’m really sorry about that, Giles,” and looks down at her hands, hoping hard that she’s not giving anything at all away.

She’s expecting that to be the end of the conversation, but then Giles says, “It’s strange. I was considering going back to England, but—”

Anya looks up. “But?”

“I can’t quite bring myself to leave the Magic Box,” Giles says awkwardly. “A-and I suspect Buffy needs me more than I know.”

Anya wonders if Giles can feel Jenny, even if he can’t see her. She thinks that knowing this might make Jenny really happy, but doesn’t know if it’s her place to tell. “Buffy really does need you,” she says. “The getting-ripped-out-of-heaven thing can’t exactly be a picnic, and Willow and Tara splitting up was super tense on her too, probably, so it’s good that you’re staying here.”

Giles half-smiles. “Yes,” he says vaguely. His eyes are still fixed on Jenny’s grave.

The problem with Jenny hanging around the Magic Box, which Anya figures out the next day, is that Giles hangs around the Magic Box too, so Anya can’t exactly talk to Jenny about Giles still being in love with her when Giles is taking inventory or reorganizing the stock. She does try and communicate with Jenny via significant looks at Giles, but Jenny gives her amusedly quizzical looks in return like she thinks this is some sort of game, which it isn’t. It’s all incredibly frustrating for Anya.

Anya eventually (reluctantly) decides to put aside the Giles stuff, because she really shouldn’t tell Jenny about it anyway, and it’s possible that Jenny might not believe her, so she decides to address an equally pressing matter. “The wedding’s in two weeks,” she tells Jenny, turning to her in the middle of a Scooby meeting, “and I’d like you to be my maid of honor.”

“Is this more ghost stuff?” Xander asks with bemusement before Jenny can answer. “Not that I’m against you having a ghost bridesmaid, Ahn, but I feel like it could be a bit confusing.”

“Tell Xander I can wear a dress like nobody’s business,” says Jenny seriously.

“The ghost says that she can wear a dress like nobody’s business,” Anya informs Xander. “And I agree.”

“Yeah, well, how do we explain that to my non-demon relatives?” Xander replies, as though that’s the end of the discussion.

“You know what, Xander, Jen—” Anya just barely manages to catch herself. “—ybean is very important to me!” she finishes with conviction.

Buffy giggles. “Did you say Jennybean?” she says.

Anya doesn’t dare look at Giles. “I mean Jellybean,” she says. “I’m just a little muddled from all the wedding planning. Jellybean the ghost, who is a wonderful friend and who I want as my maid of honor.”

“You realize you can’t bring this up with my parents,” Xander says. “Can’t Jellybean the ghost just…I don’t know, wear an invisible dress or something?”

“Tell Xander I’m gonna haunt the hell out of his wedding if he doesn’t let you make decisions about what you want,” says Jenny, who suddenly looks very angry for a reason Anya only halfway understands.

“Jellybean says she’s going to—”

“Can you not say Jellybean?” says Xander. “It just makes this conversation weirder.”

Anya hesitates, then, “I’ll figure out a way to make her an invisible dress. Will that work?”

“Fine,” says Xander exasperatedly. “Sure. Just don’t talk to your invisible friend Jellybean in front of my parents and I think we’ll be good.”

Anya bites her lip to keep from saying that it’s not Jellybean, it’s Jenny, and none of you know how many secrets I’m keeping just to keep her alive, and nods instead. The Scoobies go back to talking about the latest demonic threat, and she turns back to Jenny. “I’m tired,” she says, keeping her voice quiet so that only Jenny can hear. “I want you to be my maid of honor. If they knew who you were—”

Jenny blanches. “You know I can’t do that,” she says.

“But if they knew—”

“Any of the kids find out and they’ll be furious at you, Anya,” says Jenny. “They’ll say that it wasn’t your secret to keep. Until they hear directly from me that this is what I wanted—until they can hear things directly from me—please, please don’t tell them.”

“I don’t like compromising,” says Anya. “Or waiting. I don’t like either of those things at all.”

“I know,” says Jenny, and there’s a touch of sad fondness in her smile. “I want to figure this out as much as you do. More, possibly, since it’s my life that’s on the line,” she adds, her voice joking but her words serious.

Anya nods. “You’re very important to me, that’s all,” she says finally. Love and friendship are two things that are still a bit unusual to her as a human. Dispassionate anger was what fueled her as a vengeance demon, and it was what made her one of the best in the business.

Jenny smiles. Then she says, “I’d make myself alive again just for your wedding, if I could, but I’m not sure that counts as a selfless act.”

“Well,” begins Anya uncertainly. And that’s when she gets her idea.

The thing about Anya’s plan is that no one can know every single piece of the puzzle. Jenny can’t know that she’s talking to Giles, Giles can’t know what she’s telling Xander, and Xander definitely, definitely can’t tell anyone what she’s just told him.

“Ms. Calendar is the ghost?” says Xander disbelievingly.

“Yes, but please don’t tell anyone,” Anya says, a begging note in her voice that she might have been embarrassed by were the stakes not so high. “Please, Xander. If she knows that I told anyone it’s her, she’ll get really mad at me.”

“So you’re telling me,” says Xander slowly, “that you’ve been trying to resurrect Ms. Calendar and find some kind of a selfless act all by yourself? No help from the Scoobies?”

He sounds almost surprised, like he didn’t know she was capable of keeping such a big secret, and it angers Anya, but she shoves that anger to the side. Nothing’s more important than making sure Jenny’s okay. “Listen,” she says. “I’m only telling you this so you’ll agree to make her the maid of honor. We’re going to get her a nice dress, and treat her like a guest, and—”

“Ahn, just because I know what’s going on now doesn’t change the fact that you can’t have a ghost as your bridesmaid,” says Xander with an irritating note of placating patience in his voice. “That’s just not something that happens at a Harris wedding.”

“What about all of my demon relatives?” Anya demands. “What about a Jenkins wedding? We’re starting our own family, Xander, and it doesn’t matter what yours thinks of me.”

“Not to you,” says Xander quietly.

Anya breathes out. Places a hand on Xander’s shoulder. Reminds herself that loving Xander is how she started to understand being a human. “I know,” she says. “I know you care. But Jenny’s life is on the line. This isn’t just about our wedding anymore, this is about my friend, and I don’t want her to have to be a lonely ghost who only lets herself talk to me.”

“Anya—”

“She misses Giles so much. And he misses her too. He took me to see her tombstone, you know, and I think he’s starting to guess that it’s her haunting his shop. Either that, or he just really, really wants it to be her. Maybe both.”

“We can’t—”

“We can,” says Anya with conviction. “And we will. I got a second chance, remember? I want to give that second chance to Jenny too.”

Xander sighs. Then he says, “Can we at least put something that isn’t Jellybean the Ghost on her wedding invitation?”

Anya kisses him.

“I’m sorry?”

“If a ghost showed herself to everyone at my wedding, that wouldn’t be a selfish reason on the ghost’s part, right?” Anya repeats. “If she made herself visible to everyone, even when she doesn’t want you to see her.”

“Me specifically, or just people besides you in general?” Giles asks in a strange way.

Anya isn’t sure whether she wants to kick him or grin at him, because his perception is pretty impressive but it’s also distracting from the more important question. “Just people in general,” she says. “If she’s afraid of what people will think of her, and afraid that she might disappear if she lets people see her for who she is, but she makes herself visible for the people at my wedding for my sake, would that count as a selfless act?”

“I—suppose so.” Giles polishes his glasses. “I’m entirely unsure as to why you’re asking me this, Anya. This seems like a fairly straightforward question.”

“Oh, you’ll understand later,” Anya replies easily. She can’t stop grinning. Things are finally, finally falling into place, even if Jenny doesn’t know it yet.

Except then they hit a hitch, which is that Jenny flat-out refuses to let herself be seen. Anya begs, she pleads, she goes off on a tangent about maid-of-honor duties (because the thing about a selfless act is that you can’t let the person know it’s a selfless act, you have to have them do it themselves), but Jenny just—won’t.

“It’s my life,” she says. There’s a sadness in her voice. “I’m sorry, Anya, but this is too much for you to ask of me.”

Anya knows how it must look to Jenny. Like she’s willing to put Jenny’s life at risk for the wedding. “I love you so much,” she says, trying and trying to give Jenny some kind of hint. “And you won’t do this one thing for me?”

“No, I won’t risk my life to be your maid of honor,” says Jenny somewhat testily. “I think that’s a reasonable decision for me to make.”

Anya really, really hates the part of the selfless act where it has to be of the person’s own volition, because right now she wants to just blurt out what she’s trying to get Jenny to do and watch Jenny’s face light up in comprehension. She doesn’t want to start a fight two days before the wedding. “Just—” She sighs. “I want you there.”

“I know.” Jenny looks sympathetic and understanding, which is exasperating, because once again Anya’s got information that no one else has even considered might exist. It sucks when this time it’s Anya’s true-blue best friend who’s underestimating her. “And I promise I’ll be there. I just can’t let the wedding guests see me.”

Anya swallows hard. This is fine. It really is. There are plenty more opportunities for a selfless act. It’s just that it seemed so poetic, so perfect, to have Jenny come back to life on Anya’s wedding day. Anya had this secret little mental image of Giles and Jenny’s wonderful, passionate reunion, of Jenny and Anya both having a first dance on the same dance floor—Anya dancing with her husband for the first time, Jenny dancing alive for the first time—of Jenny and Anya getting to share a happy day together.

It’ll be okay, though. Anya’s not giving up on Jenny. She smiles, and says, “I’m sorry. I guess the bridal planning’s been getting to me. Of course I shouldn’t expect you to risk your life for my wedding.”

She turns it into a joke, ever so neatly—silly Anya, what was I thinking? She’s gotten ever so good at that lately. Jenny’s face relaxes, but the thing is that she doesn’t join Anya in when it comes to laughing at her mistake, she just says that she knows Anya’s under a lot of pressure and she hopes the wedding will make things better.

Anya loves Jenny so much in that moment. And she is glad that Jenny’s coming to her wedding, even if it’s not going to be the perfect fairytale ending for Jenny. It’s Anya’s perfect fairytale ending, too, and somewhere along the line she forgot about that.

Anya gets swept up in wedding planning and dress fittings and it’s a delightful kind of fun, even if when she’s putting on her gown her maid of honor is watching by the door instead of helping her put it on. Jenny can’t really do much with the helping, especially since Tara thought it was kind of creepy to watch Anya’s dress put itself on, so she’s kind of just relaxing by the door in her bridesmaid’s dress.

There had been a special ritual and everything just to get Jenny’s dress into the afterlife. It involved a lot of burning and praying, and it took nearly three hours, but it was worth it to see Jenny’s smile as she twirled in her new dress—Jenny hadn’t worn anything besides what she was now laughingly calling her “deathday suit” for a very long time. She’d even figured out a way to tie up her hair.

It’s gorgeous. It’s wonderful. It’s a beautiful day, even if it’s raining. Rain on a wedding is pretty, and it makes the indoors seem so much more lovely and cozy. Anya’s bubbling over with happy delight, and she looks a picture in her gown, everyone says so, and,

and,

and Xander leaves.

And it’s only when Anya’s standing by herself in that hallway, the one that had seemed so perfect and beautiful, with a gash on her arm and a horrible, leaden feeling in her chest, that she feels a hand slip into hers.

“Come on,” says Jenny gently. “Come on, sweetie, we have to tell them.”

Anya looks up at her. There’s something different about Jenny that she isn’t completely able to register. Sort of a quiet kind of glow. “I can’t,” she says in a small, broken voice.

“Okay, then I’ll tell them,” says Jenny, sad and playful at the same time, as though trying to lighten the mood while knowing she really can’t. Smart lady. “Come on.” She tugs on Anya’s hand. Anya almost starts crying at that. “Come on, Anya. You’re strong, and you look so beautiful today. Come on.”

Anya shakes her head.

Jenny starts walking, and Anya follows, still in a little bit of a daze. She notices the quiet exclamations as they enter, sees Giles drop the glass of wine he’s holding with a resounding crash. Jenny grits her teeth, and her voice is shaking when she says, “I’m sorry to inform everyone that the wedding won’t be happening today.”

“Jenny?” says Giles. His voice is shaking. Suddenly, Anya realizes what Jenny’s done—is doing, for her—and she forgets for a moment about Xander, because no one has ever done something like this. She’d never have thought Jenny would do something like this.

“Jenny, don’t—” she begins, some part of her afraid that this won’t be enough for the Powers. That she’ll lose Jenny too today, and she can’t.

“Shh.” Jenny squeezes her arm. “Trying out the whole courage thing.” She fixes her eyes on a stunned Willow. “If we could all just pack up the chairs?” she continues. “You know, fold them up and stuff? I really don’t want Anya to have to pay for all the damage done to this place. I think there are still some scorch marks on the floor.”

Jenny’s glowing more now. Golden and bright.

“No,” says Anya. There’s a desperation in her voice. “Jenny, please, please don’t—”

“I’m here for you,” says Jenny quietly, turning to Anya. She tucks Anya’s hair behind her ear in that same comforting way. “Always. And if those Powers think this is a selfish reason to stay, I’ll fight my way back down here so we can have tea and watch movies and cry about Xander, okay? You’re my best friend, and I want to be here for you.”

Anya just straight-up starts crying. It’s not the graceful kind of crying, either. This is tears and snot and it’s actually pretty gross. She falls forward a little into Jenny’s arms, and Jenny hugs her tightly, and that’s when it hits Anya that ghosts don’t generally hug people all that well.

She looks up, still crying. Jenny has hair the color of dark chocolate and eyes to match, and Anya thinks a little vaguely oh, okay, that’s what she looks like before she goes back to crying again.

“Jenny,” Anya hears a voice say again, and now she’s doing her best to pull herself together, because this is the moment that she’s worked so hard for. If she can’t be happy, not in the way she wants, then she at least wants to see the look on Jenny’s face right now, so Anya finally pulls her head up and muffles her sobs with her hand. She steps away from Jenny.

“Anya—” says Jenny with some concern. She hasn’t yet noticed the way Giles is looking at her, like she’s the moon and the stars come down to earth just for him.

And Anya smiles.

D’Hoffryn comes to Anya a few days later, when Jenny and Giles are making cookies in Anya’s apartment and getting into a giggly argument about how much sugar is reasonable for baking. Giles is calling Jenny a heathen for not letting him put in five cups and Jenny’s telling him that that’s no way to speak of the dead and Giles is saying well, she isn’t dead anymore, so he’s perfectly within reason to call her anything he wants, and Anya misses Xander like a hole in her chest but for the first time in her life, she feels like she’s some part of a weird little family.

She hears the knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” she says cheerfully. “You two crazy kids don’t burn the house down or anything.”

Giles looks lighter and happier than Anya’s ever seen him. “Certainly not,” he says, and his hand brushes against Jenny’s on the kitchen counter. Jenny ducks her head and smiles.

It’s D’Hoffryn at the door. “I’m so sorry to hear about Xander,” he begins.

“I’m not in the business anymore,” says Anya firmly, and shuts the door. Vengeance demons don’t have time to finish baking cookies with their friends, and Anya the human wants to make sure Jenny doesn’t skimp on the sugar.

#fic #aaaaah i cant believe it's done #jenny/anya brotp #jenny calendar #anya jenkins #rupert giles #calendiles #committed to job meets commitment issues

5 notes · View notes