#felt like a victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time blood rushed down from my brain to my dick so quick i almost passed out

[freedomofthedumb]

congrats to appleknight nation they are now in the same frame for a few seconds

[incorrect-interdimensional]

Collab between myself and my wonderful gf @grelleswife, a short scene between our ocs Xander and Astre.

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The thought passed through his mind that this was wrong, in a voice that sounded rather like his father's, a man didn't wear such things and any man with such desires wasn't a man at all. Even so Astre still found himself stealing into his boyfriend's bedroom, quiet as a cat burglar and making his way towards the wardrobe and the content within. The voice continued reminding him of all the things he ought not do if he wished to keep his own dignity. They haunted him, tormented him and yet even still he could not quash his desires. Just as he couldn't turn away from his attraction to men, so could he not take away his desire to wear clothing better suited for women. It shamed him and he could feel the colour rush to his cheeks even as he held out a hand and touched the wooden door.

As though he were a civilian facing down a lion in the Colosseum he slowly swung the wardrobe door open and stared inside. The interior was a veritable treasure trove of garments, the likes of which would surely have made Nina Hopkins herself weep for joy at their sight, although they filled Astre with nothing but a sick sort of dread. Was he really about to do such a thing? The thought if it almost made him recoil as the doubts tried to make their way through the longing. The scornful voices of those who knew him whilst he still lived ringing tauntingly in his ears, worst of all the voices was that of his own younger brother Ciel, spurning him telling him that he was ashamed to be related to him; that they were no longer brothers. It painted him to hear. But even still his longing was stronger. He wanted to do this so very badly it almost pained him.

A memory of Xander, no shame on his face, looking so ethereally beautiful in a white dress played through his mind. His boyfriend completely liberated and unafraid of any scorn had been an eye opener for him. Even more so had been the lack of reaction from those around them. They'd not even spared a glance in Xander's direction, at least no more than they usually did. In fact some people had even complimented him on his choice of vestiments.

Of course that had not been the beginning of it all for the former Earl, far from it. He'd always been fascinated with the fashion industry, secretly seeking out Nina's help in such matters, always keen to learn more. He could remember the countless times he'd stolen longing glances at his dear Alice as she'd dressed simply because he longed to be the one to be robed in such beautiful gowns. To feel the fabric pool around his ankles and sway in the wind. But of course, it would've been unacceptable for him to do such a thing. Now however it seemed to be different. A man could wear whatever he so desired and no one would think any less of him. Certainly, though he'd been astounded the first time he'd seen his love wear a dress, he'd never once thought any less of him. Xander looked as radiant as the sun no matter his clothing. Surely the same could apply to him...

This gave him the push he needed. He began to look through the seemingly endless array of clothing, half cursing his beloved for having acquired the same love for fashion as his mother had. How was one to choose an outfit when there were at least a hundred to pick from? It was quite absurd to his own mind. But then, he supposed he was now entirely used to the three piece suits that were his daily wear. He'd long since stopped having a fully stocked wardrobe and a butler to help him dress.

Eventually however he came upon one he rather liked the look of, scandalously short in his own mind (it reached mid thigh) and made of a light, floaty dark blue material, with golden glittering stars embroidered on the skirt and around the hem, that shone when the light caught them.

Carefully he set it on the bed and began shamefully disrobing himself, carelessly tossing aside his suit in favour of this new garment before the embarrassment and fear could take full hold again. He stood in front of the mirror for a moment, dressed in nothing but his underwear and took a deep breath, steeling himself like a soldier about to do some great battle before he once more took the dress in hand and slipped it over his head, marvelling at the way it felt as it descended his body, clinging in such a wonderful way.

It felt...good. More than good actually and almost shyly the boy stole a glance at the mirror again to take in what he knew ought to be an abominable sight. It wasn't. He blushed further, gazing at himself in the mirror. The Astre who looked back at him seemed dreadfully at ease in his new outfit. Blue dress, although short still long enough that he could keep his dignity intact.

Tentatively he shook his hips, laughing at the way the skirt moved with him. His courage grew with every passing second he stared at himself and eventually he was parading up and down in the dress twirling and laughing, unable to understand why he'd not tried such a thing sooner.

As Xander walked towards his room, he could faintly hear Astre’s laughter, sweet and pure like running water. His scarlet eyes glowed. The tragedies of Astre’s past weighed heavily on the reaper, so this was a sound Xander cherished. Curious as to the source of his boyfriend’s delight, he picked up the pace, opened the door—and came to a standstill. There Astre was, twirling in front of the mirror while wearing one of Xander’s dresses. Xander brought a hand to his mouth as the blood rushed to his cheeks.

Gods, he’s beautiful.

The deep blue of the dress, like a night sky, perfectly complemented his love’s alabaster skin and jet black hair, and the way it showed Astre’s slender figure to perfection made him weak at the knees. And Astre looked so…free. He practically glowed, laughing with an abandon that set Xander’s heart racing with joy. The reaper usually tried to conceal it, but Xander could sense the tension he carried with him daily, the burden of keeping parts of himself locked away. Xander had never pressed Astre about what those secrets might be; it can take many days for a flower to bloom, and he didn’t want to force Astre into revelations he wasn’t yet prepared to make. Looking at him now, the hybrid understood what those hidden longings might be.

Turning his head, Astre caught sight of him and froze. The color drained from his face, which was contorted by an intense, all-consuming fear and shame. Xander reached out to him. “Babe—”

But his boyfriend hurtled across the room, diving underneath the bed and out of range. “Astre!” Xander half-laughed, half-sighed, shaking his head. He started walking towards the bed, high heels clicking against the floor, but Astre’s voice shrilly interjected, “N-no!”

Oh, dear. Xander was baffled by Astre’s behavior. Why would he be ashamed of wearing a dress? But then it clicked. Victorian mores had been absurdly strict where gender presentation was concerned. He remembered Dad complaining about having to wear suits day after day (‘Trousers quickly grow tiresome, kittens’) because that was what was expected of a “proper” man.

Crouching down, Xander gently spoke to the reaper curled up and quaking under the bed. “Baby, it’s all right.”

“I-I shouldn’t…it’s not…”

“I know things were different when you were human, but that’s in the past, honey. You shouldn’t let that stop you from wearing what you like.”

Still shaking, the reaper muttered, “I’m a freak…r-real men don’t like wearing dresses—”

“That’s not true!” Xander interrupted, his heart aching. How could Astre be so ashamed of his radiance. “Who cares what anyone else thinks? You look real enough to me. And I couldn’t care less about the clothes you like. Babe, you could wear a potato sack and I’d still love you. Besides, you’re beautiful in that dress, Astre. So beautiful.” Xander’s voice caught slightly on the last words, his eyes blurring with tears. My poor honey, he thought. Had no one been there to give Astre these words of encouragement before? He held out his hand. “Please come out, Astre. Let me take another look at you.”

Ever so shyly, Astre’s hand crept out, fingers interlacing tentatively with Xander’s. Gradually, with gentle murmurs (and a kiss or two pressed to the back of his lover’s hand), Xander coaxed him out. Astre stood, still trembling. “M-my calves are showing.”

“They’re a welcome sight!” Xander laughed, holding him at arm’s length and staring at Astre in awe. In the diaphanous dress, he appeared as celestial as his name would imply, a star whose light threatened to blind him. “This dress is fantastic on you. I’m almost jealous!” he added with a wink.

Astre blushed profusely, and Xander’s pulse quickened. How could one person be so inimitably perfect? Xander hugged him close, tenderly kissing his way along Astre’s neck. “There’s nothing wrong with wearing dresses if that’s what makes you comfortable,” he reassured his boyfriend, rubbing his back soothingly.

“You’re really sure?” Astre choked out, sounding as if he couldn’t quite believe it but desperately wanted to. Xander purred, a sound he knew Astre would find calming. “Positive. We should look through my closet to see what others you’d like to try. Or maybe take you shopping!” he declared, perking up.

Astre turned even redder. “I think I need a little time before…before all that.”

“That’s fine. There’s no rush, babe.” Xander kept purring, relief coursing through him as he felt Astre relax at last. Astre quietly cried against his shoulder, tears dampening Xander’s shirt. “Thank you,” he whispered, and Xander kissed his tears away.

It can take many days for a flower to bloom, but this one was finally beginning to open.

[fullmetalscullyy]

hit and run - chapter 6

summary: Riza Hawkeye is a thief who is trying to get by in Victorian Central. Hard times fell on her family, tuberculosis claiming her mother and then her father when she was barely a teenager. Now, femme fatale Riza steals to put food on the table for herself, her canine companion - an abandoned puppy who just won’t leave her alone - and two brothers with circumstances similar to her own. However, dipping her hands into the pockets of the rich and famous is always a dangerous game.

rated: m | words: 4630

title: “hit and run” by lolo

read on ao3 and ffnet

“This is it,” his mother stated, sounding rather impressed as she handled the envelope once more. Roy stared at it. This is the information he’d worked for weeks to try and get his hands one. Miss Riza had done it in two days.

She was right, he was hopeless.

“Follow them,” Christmas barked. She gestured with her cigarette to Roy. “Tell Miss Rebecca to stay there for the time being. She will remain by Miss Riza’s side.” Roy was already on his way out the door. “Roy?” she called to him, stopping him in his tracks. “We’ll talk about your little trip into The Vaults when you get back,” she stated, but it sounded like a threat. “Stay with them. Make sure that girl gets all help she needs.”

“Understood,” he replied, a hint of bitterness finding its way into his tone. As he left, behind him he heard his mother command for someone to clean up the mess in her office. Regardless, he was going after them whether the Madame commanded it or not. They’d got Miss Riza into this state. It was the least he could do to make sure he provided aid, especially after seeing that injury.

When Miss Riza had walked into that room he’d been blindsided. He felt the colour drain from his face when he saw the blood. Her black clothing hid it well, but the fabric must have been incredibly saturated because it was dripping through it and onto the floor. Roy felt his heartrate increase, the organ thudding inside his chest. This was the result of his mother’s little test. Someone had gotten hurt. Really hurt.

Roy didn’t understand the Madame’s thought process with this whole thing, and he doubted he never would. It was extreme and Roy didn’t agree with it one bit. Now, look what had happened.

He rushed out the front of the bar, looking left and right down the street to try and find out which direction they would have headed.

“They went this way,” a voice called to him. Roy’s head jerked to the right, finding his partner, Maes Hughes, beckoning him forward. Maes waited then fell into step with Roy instantly as he passed, wasting no time. “That looked bad.”

“It was,” Roy stated, jaw clenching. As they rounded the corner, they spotted three people walking forward. Just as they started jogging to catch up, the person in the middle stumbled, arm jerking out of the others and falling forward.

“Riza!” Miss Rebecca shouted in surprise which spurred Roy on to move even faster. Miss Rebecca grasped her arm again tightly, lifting her friend upright, but Miss Riza’s head lolled forward, slack. She was unconscious.

“What can we do to help?” Roy asked, voice desperate when he saw how pale Miss Riza was. This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good.

Miss Rebecca’s head snapped up to his, eyes hard as she regarding Roy. She wasn’t happy. To be perfectly honest, Roy wasn’t happy with himself either. He’d tried to watch out for her because he knew just how ruthless his mother could be. He’d entered The Vaults on that first night on his own volition, as back up, just in case, because he knew just how awful Kimblee could be. Roy had been following the man for months and he’d seen some terrible things. He didn’t want to subject an unsuspecting person to that.

Now look what had happened.

“I think you’ve done enough, Mustang,” Miss Rebecca replied, voice clipped. She turned to her friend. “We need to go,” she added urgently. The other woman nodded, shifting her grip on Miss Riza so that Miss Rebecca could lift her into her arms.

“I know,” Roy cut in. “And I’m sorry. She needs help, and we can provide it.”

“Just…” Miss Rebecca sighed in frustration. “Stay close and stay quiet.”

Miss Rebecca led them to a crumbling old bank while Miss Riza continued to bleed out on the ground. Every now and then she would groan, and Roy’s gaze would snap to her limp form.

“Hang in there, Riza,” Miss Rebecca would mutter to her friend. “We’re almost home.”

When the five of them strode into a house at the back of the bank Roy was surprised to see two boys standing by the door waiting for them, eyes wide and worried as they took in the state of Miss Riza.

“What happened?” the one with the short hair asked, horrified.

“Al, get the clean linen and bring it to Riza’s room,” Miss Rebecca ordered. “Ed, grab the first aid kit from the kitchen.” Both boys nodded and dashed off. “Mustang, get in there and remove the bedding.” He nodded and entered Miss Riza’s bedroom, a feeling settling in his stomach that it wasn’t right to be in this woman’s bedroom. However, she was bleeding out partly because of him, so he shoved it down and got to work. He stripped the bed in record time so Miss Rebecca and her friend could lay Miss Riza down. The latter whimpered as she lay back.

“Riza?” Rebecca called to her, trying to get a response as she hurriedly begun pulling gauze out of the kit the kid called Ed had brought through. Al entered the room and waited for his instructions, his arms full of clean linen. “Riza, can you hear me?”

She groaned on the bed and tried to roll, whining when her wound stretched.

“Easy,” the other woman soothed her, stroking her forehead. “We’ve got you. Just relax, Riza. You’re okay.”

“No… The boys…”

“They’re okay. They’re safe,” the woman reassured her.

“Gracia, take this,” Miss Rebecca commanded, handing the previously nameless woman a strip of linen. “Tie it around her torso,” she advised quietly. “Then do it again but tie it around the bed. You two.” She snapped her fingers at Roy and Hughes. “Get over here and help Gracia.” They both jumped into action, helping the woman tie the bedsheet around Miss Riza’s midsection so she was restrained to the bed.

Roy swallowed. He didn’t like the look of this.

“Gracia, get the shoulders,” Miss Rebecca requested softly. “Mustang,” she barked, voice harsher. “Get her legs. Hughes, her arms.”

“What do you need us to do?” Mustang asked uncertainly.

“The blade was poisoned.” His stomach dropped. “I need to draw it out and it will hurt like hell.” Roy swallowed, readying himself to restrain Miss Riza so Miss Rebecca could help her. “I don’t know how I didn’t notice it earlier,” Miss Rebecca muttered under her breath, speaking to herself.

“Riza,” Miss Rebecca called to the patient again. “Riza, the blade was poisoned.” Miss Riza whimpered underneath Miss Rebecca’s hands as she readied a syringe. “It will just be like out east, okay? Same as before. Just try and stay as still as you can, okay? I know it will be hard, but you have to try.”

Miss Riza nodded, and Roy felt his heart sink.

“This has happened before?” Hughes asked quietly.

Both women ignored him. Miss Gracia removed her hand from Miss Riza’s forehead and took another piece of cloth from Al’s outstretched hands. She placed it in Miss Riza’s mouth and that’s when Roy realised it was to try and muffle her screams.

His guilt increased tenfold.

Miss Rebecca lowered the syringe and he felt Miss Riza’s body tense underneath his hands. She began to shake, and Roy’s hands clamped down on her ankles, restraining her so Miss Rebecca could do her job. Her breathing increased, chest heaving as low whines begun to leave her throat.

“I know, Riza, I know,” Miss Rebecca soothed loudly over the sound of her pain. “Just hang in there.”

The whines turned into muffled screams the longer Miss Rebecca worked and it was becoming more and more difficult as Miss Riza began to thrash on the bed, her legs trying to kick wildly and her shoulders bucking on the mattress.

“Riza, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Miss Gracia reassured her, tears in her eyes while clamping down on Miss Riza’s shoulders with a forearm pressed across her body, just below the neck. Her now free hand was placed on her forehead, stroking the skin to soothe her. “Not much longer.”

Miss Rebecca’s syringe was filling up with a sickeningly green liquid, but it had still only drawn a small amount. The process seemed to last forever, and Roy felt his heart break for the woman suffering before them.

“There, done! Riza, I’m done, relax.” Rebecca carefully placed the syringe of offending green liquid down on the metal tray beside her then carelessly removed her gloves, tossing them to the side. She joined Miss Gracia and placed a hand on her forehead. “It’s out of you now. You’re going to be okay.”

Miss Riza’s body sagged, exhausted, underneath their hands. Her screams died down to sobs, body shaking as she cried after the pain. Roy wanted nothing more than to soothe her like her friends were doing, but he was the enemy.

You had a hand in this.

Both he and Hughes shared a look and slipped out the room, giving them some privacy as Riza continued to cry. The gag had been removed and the sound tore at Roy’s chest with guilt.

They stood waiting in the main room of the house and jumped when Miss Rebecca came storming out, the bedroom door banging loudly against the wall next to it.

“What were you doing these past few days, getting involved with Riza?” she accused.

“I was looking out for her,” he hissed, his anger coming into play sooner than he thought. He’d been trying to do the right thing, but no one seemed to believe him. They all thought he was intentionally trying to kill Miss Riza.

“And look where that got her,” Miss Rebecca replied venomously. “This is your fault. And your mother’s too,” she spat. “We’ve seen that poison before out east. It’s your mother’s poison. I only found that out a few weeks ago. I’ve almost lost Riza twice now, to your mother.” Her glare was cutting through him, giving no mercy. “Stay away from us from now on. Your help has been nothing but a curse.”

“You know what she’s like,” Roy reminded Miss Rebecca. “You know how relentless she is. I was trying to protect her, and she pushed me away –”

“Gee, I wonder why?” Miss Rebecca cried sarcastically. “She obviously pushed you away with good reason. This is just proof of it. Her instincts are very good. But you kept on coming back and look where we ended up. You, perfectly fine, but my friend, my sister, lying, dying, on her bed. Great help you were,” Miss Rebecca scoffed.

“Becca?” a quiet rasp interrupted their argument. Roy was left reeling after hearing her words because of course, Miss Rebecca was absolutely right.

He was useless. He couldn’t even protect people from his own mother. He loved his mother, but she pushed, and pushed, and pushed, resulting in things like this happening. For too long Roy had seen it happen and the one time he decided to step in and stand up for the new recruit, he ruined it.

Fucking useless.

“Riza?” Miss Rebecca asked surprised, whirling on the spot and rushing back into the room.

“Leave it,” she whispered. Miss Rebecca huffed in response but didn’t argue. Roy was surprised. “He’s not worth it.”

Despite it being like a punch to the gut, Roy supposed that was fair.

“Come on,” Hughes urged quietly beside him. “Let’s go.” The two men turned and left the room, facing the glares of two teenagers as they left.

“Boys?” a voice suddenly asked. Miss Gracia appeared as if from nowhere with more gauze in her hands. “Can you take these through to Becca?” With one last glare at the two men, they entered Miss Riza’s bedroom and closed the door behind them. “They’re very protective of each other, and with good reason,” Miss Gracia explained, looking at the closed door. She turned to face to two of them, expression hard. “I don’t sympathise with you because you knew exactly what the Madame was capable of but never warned Riza –”

“Neither did Miss Rebecca,” Roy reminded her.

Miss Gracia frowned further. “Riza called upon us yesterday to help with the lift tonight. We didn’t exactly have all the time in the world together.”

Roy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

Miss Gracia regarded him for a minute then nodded. “Thank you.”

“What do we do?” Hughes asked quietly as they walked down towards the street.

“Go and report back to the Madame. Tell her what we need to help Miss Riza. I’ll keep watch.”

“Right. Stay safe, Mustang.”

“You too.”

Hughes took off down the street at a run. Roy watched him go, then turned his head to look at the roof of their home, trying to discern the easiest way to scale the building.

While alone on that rooftop, Roy had planned on thinking of a way to try and make this up to Miss Riza after everything his family had put her through, but he was distracted by the voices from the room below. No matter where he went on the roof, there was no escaping it. So, he had to listen to Miss Riza’s whimpers and cries of pain, increasing his guilt even more.

“It hurts,” she whimpered to Miss Rebecca, who shushed her, trying to soothe Miss Riza’s suffering.

“If I die,” she’d murmured. Roy’s stomach tensed and he had to strain to hear them. “Promise me –”

“You’re not going to die,” Miss Rebecca vowed vehemently.

“Riza,” came Miss Gracia’s voice, much calmer. “You’ll be fine.”

“If I die,” she continued, stressing her point as her voice wobbled with emotion. “Promise me you’ll take care of the boys.”

Miss Rebecca sighed. “Riza –”

“Promise me,” she begged, voice desperate.

“Okay, I promise. They won’t go hungry and I’ll keep them safe.”

“Keep them away from the Underworld if you can,” Miss Riza added. “I don’t want that life for them. They’re too good for it.”

“Okay, I promise,” Miss Rebecca reassured her, voice softening. “But I won’t have to do a damn thing, because you’ll be there to do it yourself.”

“Thank you,” Miss Riza whispered, voice sincere.

Roy watched as Hughes approached the door, hearing the knock from on top of the roof. He handed over the medicine for Miss Riza, hearing Miss Rebecca’s cold tone thanking him for it. As he left, he gave Roy nod over his shoulder, which he returned. He’d already told Hughes he would remain here for the night, keeping watch. It was the least he could do. He didn’t plan on telling anyone in the house below him. He wasn’t looking for thanks or praise, Roy was just looking to do the right thing for a change.

He’d been unintentionally dozing around the four o’clock mark, but had been startled awake, senses instantly alert as he heard rock shifting in the rubble behind the house. Everyone below was quiet and probably asleep, Roy hadn’t heard a peep for the last three hours, so it wouldn’t be them.

Peering over the edge, he spotted two figures dressed in black with their faces covered, each wielding a knife.

“This is it,” a man murmured.

“Plant the charges.”

Roy’s eyes widened.

Slipping his knife out the sheath, he turned and sprinted soundlessly to the front side of the roof, shimmying down the drainpipe he’d used to get up there. Rounding the back of the house, he crouched low to watch their movements. Despite being useless at the thieving stuff, Roy was one of the best fighters in his mother’s network, and he took pride in that fact. He didn’t want to take a life, but if it meant protecting those he cared about and the innocent, he would do it.

One was crouched by the door, placing something on the ground. Roy had a pretty good idea who had sent them here, given they were using explosives.

Kimblee.

Roy wouldn’t let them blow up this house. No way in hell.

He pounced on the closest assailant, the man dodging at the last second, but not before Roy lunged and managed to slice his thigh. He cried out in pain and staggered backwards while the other descended on Roy mercilessly. Good. He needed to burn off some frustration and anger towards Kimblee. This would do nicely.

The first man re-joined the fight while his partner fell back, hand reaching out blindly. Roy dodged, but the blade cut into the skin of his cheek, leaving a shallow cut on his cheekbone. Roy hissed in pain, lashing out with a well-aimed strike, slicing the skin of the man’s side. He cried out, doubling over as his body instinctively curved in on itself to protect the wounded area. Roy slammed the pommel of his knife into the man’s head, knocking him flat to the ground, unconscious, right as the other assailant lunge for his face. Roy bent back, his lower back protesting at the sudden and jarring movement. Roy grabbed the man’s wrist, incapacitating him then pulling him towards his body so Roy was right in his face.

“Who sent you?” he hissed while the man smirked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Roy spun, slamming the man’s back hard against the brick wall of the house. He gasped in pain, eyes popping open in surprise. “Tell me!” he barked.

“Mustang?” he heard Miss Rebecca call, sounding extremely surprised, from his left. He didn’t dare take his eye of the assailant, but he heard a blade being unsheathed.

The man chuckled but offered no further answer. Roy slammed him against the wall again, even harder, causing him to gasp in pain. Right then, the assailant’s hand shot forward and Roy dodged instinctively, expecting a knife, but there was nothing in it. Right as he landed his dodge, a concealed throwing knife was whipped out from his sleeve and the man moved again, stabbing Roy in the side. He’d just moved out the way, so had no momentum to keep moving to dodge the second attack.

A dirty, but smart strategy.

Roy cried out, his hold on the man weakening. With a smirk, the assailant slipped away as Roy reached for his side, but he didn’t get far. Roy grabbed him by his collar, slamming him down on the ground.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” Roy warned after pinning the man with a knee on his chest and another pressing down hard on his elbow. His voice strained from the affects of his injury. His side throbbed, the knife still lodged in there. “Who sent you?” Roy pulled the knife out, the blade slick with his blood, and grunted in pain, throwing the weapon on the ground by the assailant’s head. The man stared wide eyed up at Roy, eyes terrified, obviously not expecting to be caught again.

“Wh – What?” he asked, baffled that Roy wasn’t on the ground by now. It would take more than a tiny knife to stop him.

“Who?” Roy roared, tired of all the beating around the bush. He was irritable, bleeding, and running on very little sleep.

“Ki – Kimblee,” the assailant stuttered, horrified at his very probable demise.

“Are there any more coming?” Roy asked through clenched teeth, bringing a hand to his side again to try and staunch the flow of blood.

“Y – Yes. Two more groups of two.”

“Thank you,” Roy stated graciously, slamming the pommel of his knife into the man’s head to knock him unconscious like his friend.

He stood shakily, hand still on his side, and found Miss Rebecca and Miss Gracia by the door to the house, blades unsheathed and ready to fight, but still looking surprised by Roy’s appearance.

“We need to move,” he told them, approaching the house.

There were obviously questions they wanted to ask but recognised the urgency of the situation. As he entered the door, an arrow hit the back of it, an inch away from his head. Roy kicked the door closed and backed up, seeing another splinter the wood and appear through to the other side.

Miss Gracia and Miss Rebecca were equipped and out the house in seconds to fight and protect Miss Riza.

Roy stumbled into Miss Riza’s bedroom, his vision filling with stars for a brief second. The two teenagers jumped up, defensive an equipped with a glare. Roy ignored them, eyes finding Miss Riza. “We need to go,” he told them.

“Why?” Edward asked. Alphonse watched on, his glare not as intense as his brother’s, but he was still cautious. Smart boy.

“There are men outside trying to kill us, that’s why,” Roy snapped. He strode over to Miss Riza’s bed but was stopped short by Edward standing in her way.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” he seethed.

“Unless you want to die,” Roy hissed as he glared at the older brother. “You will move and let me help you all get to safety.”

“Ed,” Alphonse urged, begging him to step aside.

“If you hurt her again,” Edward warned.

“I’m well aware kid,” Roy muttered, placing an arm underneath Miss Riza’s back and the other underneath her knees. “You’ll have to get in line for the people who want to kill me after tonight.” Not looking back he lifted Miss Riza and exited the room. He entered the other bedroom, kicking the door the to secret passage he’d noticed when they’d entered earlier. He lived with the Madame Christmas. He could spot a trapdoor from a mile away.

“Help me with this,” he barked to the brothers, turning in place then wincing as his side smarted. They didn’t need to be told twice. Roy carried Miss Riza down the stairs and far into the tunnel so that if the others did manage to plant more charges and set them off, she would be far enough to be out of harm’s way.

“Stay here,” Roy ordered lowly to the two brothers. “I’m going back to help the other two.”

“But… you’re hurt!” Alphonse exclaimed.

“They need the backup and it’s the least I can do for all that I’ve brought upon you all so far. Stay here, stay quiet, and stay hidden,” he commanded, turning and running back to the house.

The tunnel had multiple routes going snaking off from the main entrance. He’d taken the centre one because statistically, it would be the most likely the other two women would take if they were fleeing the scene.

However, before he could reach the bottom of the wooden stairs, they splintered before his eyes, the wood hitting his face and hands, a blast sending him flying backwards to land roughly on the hard ground.

He rolled onto his stomach, pushing up onto his hands and knees with his ears ringing, head throbbing, and vision failing. Shaking his head to try and rid it of the sound of ringing, Roy failed to do so. He blinked furiously, but his vision continued to blur and double.

Somehow, he managed to get to his feet, a hand placed on the dirt wall to steady himself. As he pulled his hand away, the wall crumbled underneath his hand, the shock of the explosion shaking the very ceiling above him. At any minute it could collapse on top of Roy but all he could think of was going back to help Miss Gracia and Miss Rebecca.

He took one step onto the barely-there steps before a foot struck his chest, sending him flying backwards. Landing roughly again, Roy coughed and wheezed to try and get air back into his winded lungs. His vision was nothing but light and dark shapes, so he had no idea who was going to kill him. His head rolled to the side, still disorientated, but the pain he expected never came. Instead, he passed out on the dirt while shapes still danced above him.

Roy’s eyes popped open again and with a gasp, he sat up sharply. He groaned in pain while his side protested at the movement, his head thumping after the explosion, and his cheek smarting.

“Hey,” Miss Rebecca greeted, voice holding none of the hostility it had done previously when they’d conversed before.

Roy winced, bringing a hand to his side, but he discovered a softness above it. Cracking open an eye, he lifted his shirt and found it had been bandaged up.

“How long was I out for?” he asked, shifting in place. They were still in the tunnel. The light was limited, only coming from a flaming torch Edward held up in his hands. Looking around, everyone was accounted for. Miss Gracia and Miss Rebecca sat on either side of Miss Riza, who was unconscious. Edward and Alphonse sat across from them in the cramped tunnel, eyes regarding Roy.

“About an hour,” Miss Rebecca answered. “I patched up your side.”

“Thanks,” he replied, wincing as he moved further and leaned heavily against the dirt wall. “Are we stuck?” he asked.

“The house is gone,” Miss Gracia stated softly. “The ceiling caved in after another explosion, but luckily we were already far enough in.”

Then, Roy realised they must have moved him further in, because he was right at the bottom of those stairs. He was grateful they hadn’t left him behind despite all he had put them through.

“Why were you at the house?” Miss Rebecca asked curiously. Again, the hostility was gone.

“I was on look out.” Roy closed his eyes against the pain. It was better than it had been an hour ago, but his head was pounding, and the flickering flames were taking a toll on him. Talking wasn’t much better.

“We didn’t ask you to,” Miss Rebecca offered softly.

“No,” he stated during a sigh, finally finding comfort. “But I wanted to. Just in case.”

“You were looking out for us,” Miss Gracia stated, and Roy nodded as if to answer it as a question.

“It was the least I could do.”

“Why did you come back? Before the explosion?”

Roy sighed again with eyes still closed. He winced as the movement of his ribcage stretched the skin on his side. He thought the answer to that question would be obvious.

“I never leave anyone behind,” he replied, opening his eyes to look at the four curious gazes. “I’m shit as a thief, that much has been proved already, but I’m a good fighter. I came back to provide back-up. I couldn’t leave you two to face them alone.”

The area went quiet again and Roy rested his head back against the dirt wall.

“Thank you,” Miss Gracia offered sincerely, voice kind.

“Yeah, thanks, Mustang. We… appreciate it.” Miss Rebecca’s thanks were also sincere, and Roy appreciated that too.

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbled.

“We’ll rest here for another hour then we need to go,” Miss Gracia stated. “Mr. Mustang is too injured to move right now.”

“I’m fine –”

“You were stabbed,” Miss Rebecca reminded him.

“I’m aware of that,” he replied.

“We will rest here,” Miss Gracia reiterated, giving Roy a pointed look, not taking no for an answer.

Silence descended on the group once more and Roy was thankful for it, his head still pounding.

“It’s Roy,” he muttered suddenly.

“What?” Edward asked after a pause.

“I’m not Mr. Mustang,” he elaborated. “It’s just Roy.”

“Same goes for us,” Miss Rebecca stated. “I’m not worth of the title Miss,” she chuckled.

Roy nodded, taking note of her amusement and even smiling briefly himself. “Noted.”

Well, at least they weren’t looking at him like they wanted to kill him anymore.

[doux-ciel]

Personal Trainer CH. 15

Masterlist:  ✨ ✨ ✨

Tagged:  @erinisawriter @riftversus @between–alleys @bodoramzap @requiemdelune @lefttowrite @pazwrites @ghost-possum @delphwrites@writing-in-the-margins @thewritertiffany @theouterdark @youngdumbxlit@velvet-moss @niva-writes @natalierosewrites @jess---writes—writes@jadeswritinggarden @cvlms @fannistwrites @sauwrites @seraphilth

I blink my eyes open revealing to me a gym but not just any gym.

Fiona's gym.

I see the jump ropes hanging on the wall near the locker room.

I see the weight bar that almost killed me when we first started our sessions.

I see the chlorine death trap also known as the pool.

This intense pounding in my head, I don't even remember what happened or even how I got here.

I try to move my arms but I flinch. I look to my right and my left and see my arms are tied up, this rope is currently digging into my wrists.

I see that I have on boxing gloves.

I try to breathe normal but my breathing is shaky, my heartbeat is speeding up. I have to get out. “Help!! Somebody help me!!”

I see a figure coming from the locker room. Fiona was standing in the doorway, her stance powerful. She has a devilish grin on her face, boxing gloves in her left hand she steps into the ring across from me. “Tsk tsk tsk...Azalea no one can hear you down here.”

Fiona’s long fingers stroke the side of my jaw drawing a line all the way up to my chapped lips. I see her brown eyes staring down at my body and then her eyes trail back up to my face.

Our eyes lock. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I thought you were my friend...I thought you would always be my friend, I thought we were soulmates Azalea”

I break away from her gaze trying to move my arms but when I wind them back I feel a tightening grip on my throat.

It's a rope.

She's trying to hang me.

I swallow hard scared about whether I'm going to make it out of here or not. She starts putting on her gloves.

“You psycho bitch you killed Henry” I spat at her.

“He was an obstacle on your path to a better you” she tilts her head to the side, her laugh sends chills up my spine. “You still didn't learn your lesson still digging in my past”

I shake my head, conjuring up a laugh myself. “I already know about the others Fiona”

“What others” her facial expression drops.

“The other clients....and your father” Her voice lowers, “No that man deserved to die...and I made sure of it.” Again she starts laughing, like any of this is funny. “You know if I didn't care about you I would've just terminated the contract like I did for everyone else...so I'm gonna give you a second chance. According to our contract you had to win 3 matches...but you've only won 2, well today's your lucky day Azalea you get to get in the ring with me.”

My arms are starting to ache, I move my neck around trying to not focus on the pain right now. “What happens if you win?” I ask quipping my brow.

She has a ill smirk formed on her lips, she backs away from me. “Well if I win then you're gonna die and if I lose you're still gonna die. It's a win win situation for me either way Azalea.”

She motions for me to put my arms up, she starts shuffling around the ring, she starts shouting when I don't raise my arms. “C’mon put your arms up!”

Fiona is a seasoned boxer, I know she's been doing this a long time. She's more settled into her style of fighting but me I'm still getting used to it. She winds her left arm back connecting it to my abdomen.

“Oh my-god,”

I throw my head back as I bite desperately into my bottom lip as sharp pains spreads through my lower abdomen. I can't let her beat me, I have to distract her.

“Jean!” I see her body freeze when I say that, her eyes glaring at me.

She gritted her teeth, I knew I was starting to incense her. “Where did you hear that name?”

I take a breath before saying,“I saw the news clip about your father...he hurt you-”

I could only get a few words out when I was cut off by her taking off the boxing gloves quickly with her teeth. Pulling a knife out, putting it to my throat, I could feel the sharp edge cutting through my skin. “You don't know anything about my father, he only wanted what's best for everyone...don't you see that's what I'm trying to help you do”

I close my eyes, opening them I look down and her legs are in an open stance, I bring my right knee up hitting her pelvic area. Her breath got ragged as she hunches over to the ground hissing in pain.

When her body is actually on the floor that's when I start to unravel the tape that's on my gloves with my teeth, trying my best to do this as quick as possible. The tape feels bitter on my tongue.

Once one glove was off I try to untie the knot on my wrist but my palms were too sweaty. My fingers kept slipping.

I pause when I hear her groaning, I see her arms bending as she tries to pull herself up. My movements become fast paced as I try my hardest to untie this damn rope but that's when I spot it.

The knife.

I have to think quick before she gets up. Shit. My mind is scrambled with so many thoughts filling up my head at one time. I reach down for the knife my arm is weak and shaky but I don't care right now this is a life or death situation.

I see her rise up from the ground and I know I'm done for, I see her grab the knife and she slowly walks towards me, her face red as a tomato is looking at me like she wants to kill me….ironic because she is trying to kill me.

I see her just inches away when I take my left and right arm wrapping them around her throat and pulling them tight. The rope is gripping at both of our throats but I see her neck and it's starting to pull on the skin causing her to lose her breath, she starts to choke.

As I am struggling to breathe myself, I am also struggling to find which hand the knife is in, but when my eyes peer behind her back I see it.

It's in her left hand, shes gripping it so tight that she is actually cutting herself, blood running down her arm. Once I see her eyes close, her body drops to floor with a thud.

We are both on the ground, I grab the rope from around my neck with my free hand and I grab the knife cutting myself loose. I grip the other glove starting to take off the tape, backing up a little from her body. I'm pulling so hard I thought my wrist had gone out of place, I finally pull the glove off. I take the knife in my other hand cutting the rope so I could get free, once I got the other hand out I charged to the weight room, I know there is a exit door on the side.

As I get to the weight room I look around my eyes fall on the red exit sign above the door.

There’s my exit!

Running to the door my hand almost makes it to the door handle when I feel a death grip on my ankle and then my chin hits the ground, I swear to god I feel a crack in my jaw. She pulls my body up, her chest is facing my back she brings her brawny arms up and her hands wrap around my throat, her thumbs are on the side of my neck digging into my skin, I feel blood. Her other 4 fingers are clasped together squeezing my esophagus.

My instincts are quick;  I lean my head down, feeling her hands relax when I do so. I bring my head all the way back, connecting to the front of her face hard.

Her body falls back, her head hits the edge of the bench, I quickly get my footing together bolting to the door. I grip the door handle turning it.

It's not giving. She locked it.

I run out the weight room, making a sharp right I’m met with the locker room, the lights were flickering on and off giving the place an eerie feeling, but I couldn't let this stop me I had to keep going, I knew when I reached the other door freedom was coming to await me.

I scan my eyes around every time the lights flicked on, I make my movements still and silent, listening for any sound or any movement other than my own. I start to creep around the lockers going row by row until I see the front desk at the end of the 4th row near the sinks. I make a run for it but not until I turn around and see Fiona coming after me.

My legs are tired so sore, they ache so bad but I had to keep going, I lose all hope when I feel her hand grab onto my hair slamming me into the wall. She drags me to one of the benches pushing my face in the Victorian wood, I feel her bringing my left arm out, stretching it behind me, I feel her movements stop. “I put everything I had to make you the best that you can be”

She took the locker door and slammed it against my left hand, I felt a shooting pain going up my hand and all the up to my finger tips, the pain was unbearable.

I scream, my voice is rough and hoarse, my mouth felt dry. Closing my eyes tightly I whimper under my breath, trying to get my arm out.

I bring my other arm around connecting my fist to her face, her hand releases my throbbing one.

I rise to my feet, my legs are wobbling and I feel like I can't walk or even run but I have to push myself, my arms are stinging and my vision is going in and out but I can see it. The boxing ring and even better the knife. My movements aren't the fastest and I stumble while climbing through the ropes into the ring. I grab the knife on the floor in the ring, I see her coming towards me.

When she's close enough I plunged it in her stomach. Taking it out and forcing it back in her body again, her blood blankets her torso and my arm, she sputters blood all over my face. My breathing starts to get ragged, I slowly back away from her. I lean my body up against one of the mats that was resting on the walls. I watch her stomach rise and fall.

After a few minutes of me just standing there staring at her, she finally stopped moving. I got myself up and started to walk out, before I got through the front doors the police came rushing in asking me where she was. I pointed to the back and they went in.

When I got outside I breathed in the fresh air, I know I looked crazy blood all over my face and my clothes but I didn't care. I closed my eyes, smiling at the fact that this was all over.

She was gone.

After the ambulance got me a blanket and checked for any wounds on me which thankfully I didn't have, just a couple of bruises. After I got my bruised knuckles treated and wrapped up, I got tapped on the shoulder by an officer in uniform. “Ma’am unfortunately we didn't see the person who attacked you in there. Are you sure you were attacked?”

My eyes get wide and then anger takes over my body. I flip the blanket off me showing him the marks on me. “Yes yes I was attacked!! Do you see these marks on me?!”

He gets on his radio, pressing them button he speaks into it. “Do you see anything?”

We hear another voice, “There's nobody in here.”

He shakes his head no as he looks at me. “I'm sorry ma’am we couldn't find her”

And just like that again my world was flipped upside down, everything felt like it was in slow motion, I could barely hear the officer speak to me anymore.

How did she escape, I saw her lying on the floor.

Dead

At least that's what I thought.

                             ¤ ¤ ¤

6 months later

“Time to open gifts” I announce to all of my guests. We are currently at this beautiful grand affairs banquet area,  Angela payed for it of course and we are just starting to open up the gifts at my baby shower.

I'm pregnant...Well pregnant again, 7 months to be exact. I'm so happy and so excited for this new little bundle of joy to come into my life. After talking with the FBI and expressing to them my fears of still living in Illinois I decided it would be the perfect time for Griffin and I to move across the country, to buy the dream house we have always wanted.

After we had gotten settled down and accustomed to the new life we had made for ourselves. I started my own Boxing Gym, my now Fiance Griffin designed it and made sure it had the latest security system and of course a killer music station for him. Life is good, for us and for everyone around us. Cameron got a promotion and is moving up in the company Mr. Gerald is slowly starting to enjoy Cameron in the meetings, she even said he cracked a smile.

Griffin has been getting booked to record with different artists he even started his own foundation to stop youth homelessness, its in memory of our first child. “Light of our Lives” has raised up to $500,000 in just the first 3 months alone, courtesy of Angela and Liliana with their connections.

I spread my hands out reaching for the presents. “Yay hand them over”

“Open mines first” Cameron exclaims, her lemon colored dress flowing behind her as she hands me a medium sized yellow box with a white bow attached to it.

I open the box like it was a Christmas present and once I look inside I start to tear up a little. I lift the present up so everyone in the room can see. “Awwww cute little baby jordans”

“She's knows it's going to be a boy” I hear Griffin whisper beside me. He is adamant that there is a baby boy in my stomach I tend to think otherwise. I turn and give him a playful glare, “No she doesn't now shut up Griffin and hand me a gift”

He hands me a huge box with a card attached to the top. I'm getting really excited now, opening up gifts is fun. I move the box over to the floor in front of me. I open it and it's a cream and sandal brown Michael Kors diaper bag. I lift it from out the box but I don't see a name, I turn to Griffin who has the card in his hand. “Ohhh who's it from”

“I don't know, let me read the card.” As he opens up the card we all listen.

Congratulations on your new little blessing I hope he/she is going to grow up to be an amazing boxer like you. ♥

“Baby who's this?” His eyebrows furrow as he looks for a name or even a signature. He hands the card to me and I look at it, I don't see anything. I shrug my shoulders. “I don't know?”

Cameron sets the gift aside and hands me a new one. “Ok, next gift”

After all the gifts are open, the speeches start and the crying begins and seemed like it was never going to stop. I finally calmed down and was sitting at the cream couch that was near the air conditioner.

I don't know what it is about pregnancy but with me I get hot all of a sudden and this lavender skin tight dress isn't helping one bit. I wanted to opt for something a little more in my comfort zone like, a more flowy dress but Cameron insisted on this designer one, It was made by some designer in italy and his name was too hard to pronounce but I bought it anyway.

Listening to her wasn't so much of a good idea I’ve come to find out; but nevertheless I looked beautiful in lavender.

Today was the day to celebrate life, to celebrate my child.

For the first time in a long time I truly felt happy.

                 ¤ ¤ ¤

I lay down on my right side.

Nope.

I lay down my left side.

Nope.

I sigh in frustration when I lay on my back and an aching pain rushes up my body. I sit up on the bed leaning on the headboard. I starts to rub my growing bump. “This baby won't let mommy get in a comfortable position”

“He” Griffin emphasizes when he walks out the bathroom with his robe on his body and a towel wrapped around his head.

I roll my eyes and scoff. “Oh my gosh babe it's not gonna be a boy”

He kisses his teeth while getting a pair of shorts from his side of the dresser.“Who says it's gonna be a girl”

“We will just have to wait and see” I mumble.

I have now gotten up since I can't seem to lay down without the baby freaking out I opt to sit in the chaise we have sitting in the corner of or room, I feel the baby’s feet on my ribs and I whine a little, causing Griffin who was drifting in and out of sleep to notice and sit up in our king sized bed. He looks over at me and motions me with his hands to come. “Come Azalea.”

I walk over to the bed, getting in on my side but scooting myself towards Griffin. “I just can’t wait to hold our baby.” Griffin whispers while the two of us lay in bed, one hand resting on my stomach where our baby currently resided.

“Just a few more months.” I assure him.

He looks up at me and he has that adorable grin his face, he leans in for a kiss before he turns his attention back to my bump. He scoots down the bed a bit so his face is right next to my stomach.

“Daddy loves you so much.” He says quietly to my stomach, his hand rubbing against my swollen skin. “Mommy has been working so hard to keep you safe up in there but I think mommy is having a hard time with you using her boxing moves in that tummy of hers” I chuckle while placing my hand on top of his. “You are going to have everything you could ever want in the world. I'm going to make sure of it.” He presses a soft kiss on the side of my stomach and as he does, I feel a soft kick against my abdomen.

Griffin feels the kick against his hand and looks up at me, a smile showing up on his face. I smile back at him, it was kind of uncomfortable having a tiny human kicking at my insides but I wanted to enjoy this pregnancy. I wanted to feel all of the little movements.

“I love your mom so much.” He turns back to my bump pressing his nose against my skin. “I loved her even before you and your other sibling, but now that she has given me you, I don't think I could ever love anyone or anything as much as I love you. You are the most important thing to me now...excluding your mother of course.”

After kissing my stomach one last time he pulls himself to the top of the bed to rest his forehead against mines. My eyes on the verge of tears.

“Griffin you're gonna make me cry”, I say while placing both my hands on either side of his cheeks my tears are now flowing freely down my face.

He uses his thumb to wipe the tears from going down towards my neck, we have matching cheesy smiles as we look into each other's eyes. I whisper to him quietly, “Its happening...its finally happening”

                      ¤ ¤ ¤

It was 2:24 a.m. When I had to wake up to pee, this baby was dancing on my bladder, I lift Griffin’s arm off of me. He is stirring in his sleep, his snoring is the only thing I hear in the quiet house.

When I finish up in the bathroom I walk down the hallway to the nursery, of course not knowing the gender we picked a gender neutral theme mostly cream and brown, with a few hints of yellow. I smile at the little lamb Griffin put on the changing table, I could imagine my child clinging to it like Griffin did when he was a kid, he told me it was his favorite toy.

I walked over to the rocking chair Griffin's mother brought me just a few months ago, she went crazy at Baby-R-Us and literally bought the whole store.

I was rocking in the creamy white rocking chair when I hear a creek down the hallway.

My body tenses but relaxes once I realize it was just Griffin, I heard the toilet flush and I start rocking again. I eventually drift off into a deep slumber.

When I finally wake up I see the sunlight shining down into the room. The colorful paintings on the walls come to life, I smile knowing soon this house will be filled with little baby giggles and late night crying.

I start to walk out the room and into the master bedroom when I hear a noise, it was coming from the kitchen.

I look around not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

I turn the corner, pulling my hand out to get into the fridge.

If it's one thing I learned from working with Fiona it's that I needed to make better choices in what I eat. So me and Griffin were slowly but surely getting more healthier meals.

That's when I spot an apple on the floor.

I bend down to pick it up and when I come back up I get thrown into the refrigerator door, my head collides with the edge of one of the many shelves.

My head felt like it's was going to explode. I landed on the floor stomach first, that's when I really started to panic. My breathing picked up and my heart raced, I was putting most of my weight on my wrists to help lift me up when I got knocked down again, this time I start shouting. “Griffin!!!”

My Perpetrator lifted my head up and I felt their warm breath on my ear. “No it's me Jean”

She banged my head on the floor. I could feel the blood running down my the front of my face and onto my lips, the coppery taste in my mouth felt weird to say the least.

I wanted to fight I truly did but I couldn't, I wasn't going to risk it. For once in my life I couldn't fight back. My face felt hot as tears started to roll down my cheeks and onto the cold tiled floor. I felt my vision get blurry, I wasn't even trying to fight the darkness that was beginning to welcome me.

I let myself slip away.

A/N: Oh my gosh its sadly the end of the book, but I had a lot of fun writing this!! Sorry for the cliff hanger!! Stay Tuned for my next Story, Gift of Life. It should already be out by the time this goes up so be sure to check it out and let me know if you enjoyed the first chapter or not.

[saocaptivebehindglass]

SAO: Captive Behind Glass

Once again, Asuna was a captive.   First, she had been trapped in the death game of Sword Art Online for two years. Second, she had been transferred to Alfheim Online and imprisoned within a cage at the top of the World Tree by Nobuyuki Sugou, a corrupt executive in her father's company who wanted to force her to marry him. This time was different.   Before, she could work toward freeing herself.   She became one of the strongest players in SAO and the Vice Commander of its premiere guild so that she could go home again.  With all of her fighting abilities sealed away in ALO, she had used stealth and guile to almost escape by herself.  Even in failing, she had helped Kirito come to her rescue, which he couldn't have managed otherwise, save perhaps with the intervention of Kayaba's digital ghost. But this wasn't the virtual world.  Everything was terrifyingly real, and now she was completely powerless to save herself. She had been kidnapped.  She couldn't quite remember how it had happened, only that she must have been drugged.  That was bad enough, but then her captor revealed to her that magic wasn't just limited to the fantastic realms of Aincrad and Alfheim. She hadn't believed it, not at first, and tried to force her way past him to freedom.  But he raised a hand, said some strange words, and she suddenly felt her strength fading away. And somehow, her kidnapper was starting to look a lot bigger... "Or am I… shrinking? It can't be!" But unfortunately for Asuna, it was. As her strength faded and her size dwindled, her legs buckled despite any effort to stay on her feet. As she slumped down, Asuna caught a glimpse of her hands turning very pale as her body appeared to freeze and soon take on a new texture, making it seem like porcelain. If that didn't alarm her enough, the sight of joints forming in her fingers certainly shocked her. She screamed, but soon found that her face was being pulled by an unseen force into a smile. She tried to resist it, but found her voice silenced before her face froze. Her clothes, Asuna noticed, had shrunk with her thankfully. But at the change in what her kidnapper was chanting, they began to shift, stretch and change. Her jacket started to turn a red colour as it fused with the shirt she'd been wearing underneath, and her skirt. She started to recognise her new outfit as a dress as it finished forming. It was conservative in its cut, stretching down to her ankles, but it went overboard on its ostentation, with lacy white trim against red finery delicately embroidered with intricate patterns.  The dress billowed outward around her body, supported by a tiny corset and bustle, harkening back to Europe's old Victorian style, and was further decorated by several satin ribbons. Her shoes were plain by comparison, black and with only slightly raised heels, yet they were made of authentic leather.  Only a hint of her stockings could be seen between the hem of her dress and her shoes, yet they were no less detailed for being out of sight.  Even her panties had lace patterns!  He also accessorized her outfit with white fingerless evening gloves, a big (obviously a relative term) matching bow tying her braids together in the back, and a fancy umbrella placed in her hands and resting upon her shoulders.  He then crowned her with a tiara, making her seem like a princess.  The only accessory that brought her any comfort was her necklace, shaped as a cross, the symbol her guild, the Knights of the Blood Oath had used back in Sword Art Online.   From what Asuna could see of the new outfit, she thought it looked ridiculous. She brought her hands up to her face to attempt to make sense of what had happened to her. She couldn't move her face anymore and soon, the pieces began to fall into place in her mind. "A doll?!" She thought. But Asuna had no time to contemplate on the fact that her kidnapper had turned her into a living doll, she had to get out of this place. Sluggishly, Asuna tried to get to her feet but her movements felt... off. She managed to get to her feet, and walk a small distance but her balance was definitely off. She soon tripped, but ended up falling into the hand of her captor. As the man lifted her up, he pinned Asuna's arms to her sides. "You turned out very well." He commented, taking her over to a nearby table. He moved her hair out of the way, and opened up her dress with the zipper in the back. Asuna struggled, but found a new, strange feeling on her neck as he drew an arcane symbol on the base of her neck before she felt any control over her own body slip away. He placed her down on the table, in front of a small mirror. Asuna could see the forced smile plastered on her face, and the blush spots painted on her cheeks. Despite all the changes, her hair still seemed like it was real. She wasn't happy with this at all!  She wanted to be with Kazuto, not this… freak. Her captor's tastes seemed to be a strange combination of the old and the new.   While she was wearing a fancy dress, and there were a handful of dolls nearby her with similarly styled but less elaborate attire, others wore outfits like bikinis or the costumes of anime characters.  She could also look out into his room through the glass of the case that he kept her in, and saw that it was also decorated by several wall scrolls, like a typical otaku's room.   But given the terrible power that he had, she wouldn't have been surprised if a number of the figures and dolls in the room, and perhaps even some of the posters and wall scrolls, had once been real girls like her.  No, she was certain of it.  But try as she might, she couldn't talk to any of them, and it seemed that none of them could speak to her.  Neither did they have a means of nonverbal communication, for none of them could make any expressions other than the ones they had been given, and notions of using some sort of telepathy were pure fantasy. He said that she was the pride of his collection.  He had admired her for so long from afar, even back in the days when they were both trapped in Sword Art Online.  But she would never be his, not as a girl anyway, and so he had settled for having her as a doll.  Besides, it was good to have her brought down a peg from when she was the Vice-Commander of the Knights of the Blood Oath and to know that she couldn't ever leave him. And wasn't she so pretty now? It was all thanks to a strange book on the occult that he had found after getting out of SAO.  Yes, some of his other collectibles had been once real girls who had caught his eye and also spurned his advances, and he even introduced Asuna to them.  Yet though they had come before her, they had been but tests so that he could perfect the spells for her, and now they were afterthoughts next to the attention he lavished on Asuna.  His captives, including Asuna, were well-hidden in plain sight among hundreds figures and numerous scrolls that covered every inch of available wall space. It made her feel sick.  But she could only wait and have faith that Kazuto would find and save her one day, as he always had. The days passed by in a blur, an endless tedium broken only when her owner opened the display case to adjust her pose or change her clothes, sometimes snapping pictures of her for scrapbooking or future reference, or more horrifyingly, when he added new girls to his collection.  She wanted to cry out and help them, but she was incapable of doing so from her perch behind glass and with her doll's body.  Just like her, they would become seemingly lifeless dolls or figures with bright smiles on their faces, or else they'd be made to assume really embarrassing poses before being converted into dye upon cloth, usually with some sort of background added in.  Yet they were mere amusements to him, and she remained his clear favorite.  Thankfully, the frequency of his "acquisitions" also seemed to drop off with time. Asuna could see a calendar on the wall across from her.  First it was a month, then six, then a year, then two years.  At that point, he smugly told her that the authorities had stopped looking for her and that Kirito clearly didn't care enough about her to find her.  But she wouldn't have to worry: he'd always take care of her. Soon, Asuna wasn't sure how long she had been there.  The calendar said it was 2032, but she couldn't remember when she had first joined the collection.  She was still in mint condition, free of dust and with not even a scratch on her paint job, thanks to her owner's diligent care.  It was a simple existence that demanded nothing from her, unlike the stress of running a guild or cramming for exams, yet a fulfilling one that filled her with the knowledge that she was appreciated, and she had come to love wearing her dress.  Its every stitch was testament to how much her owner loved her, and she took pride in the fact that she remained his favorite doll. Though they only arrived rarely now, the new dolls seemed frightened before assuming their forms for display, but  their smiles afterward assured Asuna that they would eventually come to find happiness as she had.  She wished that she could talk to them though and tell them that everything would be all right.  She could really use a good conversation too, but she never got one, and thus any words from her owner, especially those about the state of the outside world, were precious.  But most of the time he just told her how beautiful she was and how lucky he was to own her, and that was no less gratifying even with its repetition. Yet something nagged at the back of her mind.  There was something, no someone important that she had forgotten.  He was a black-haired swordsman who she had met in her past life.  What was his name?  Kaz… Kiri…?  It was muddled in her mind, yet the brief time she had spent with him was something that she would always treasure.   She wished that she could see the swordsman at least one more time, so that her memories of their time together could come rushing back to her.  Perhaps she even go off on another adventure with him… even if that adventure was simply to join his collection instead.  In spite of how well she was treated here, she knew that the black-haired swordsman was her rightful owner, and that her glass case was like a gilded cage.  That seemed vaguely familiar as well, a cage somewhere among the trees and the sky… And he had come for her then, hadn't he?  So a part of her stubbornly held onto her faith, and would do so no matter how long it took her first and truest love. And then one day her owner did something outside of his usual routine, taking her down from her shelf.  He didn't seem to have a new outfit that he wanted her to wear, for he kept her in the red dress, and Asuna felt anxiety creeping over her.  What was going on? "It's your big day, Asuna," he said with a smile. "Today I finally get to show you off, along with the other highlights of my collection." He seemed to have a case prepared for her, with foam cut to her shape inside, and set her down so that it acted as a cushion around her.  Asuna felt a little reassured by his gentle words, and the foam ensured that she wouldn't break in transit, but she couldn't entirely shake the feeling of uncertainty.  Was he showing her off so that he could sell her to another collector?  He wouldn't do that!  Would he? But then the case closed, and Asuna was left in complete darkness.   Asuna felt herself panicking a bit.  The foam was snug enough around her and not at all uncomfortable, and she knew that she couldn't suffocate in the case; she didn't breathe in the first place as a doll.  Yet claustrophobia had quickly set in all the same.  Maybe it was because dolls existed to be where people could see them, either playing with them or appreciating them on display.  Thus, being hidden away like this was a terror to her. She felt the case being picked up, and soon she was on her way… to wherever her owner was taking her. -------------------- For Kirigaya Kazuto, the last five years had been a nightmare. Yuuki Asuna, his girlfriend and wife within the virtual world, who had been his partner since the death game of Sword Art Online, had vanished without a trace in 2027.  They had both been in college and had been talking of moving in together and getting officially married to each other in the real world soon.  But someone had abducted her while she was on her way to the campus one morning, and the realization of this had been like a knife through Kazuto's heart.  No ransom demands were made, and he grew even more worried.  Asuna was incredibly beautiful, and unfortunately Japan had plenty of perverts.  Had they kidnapped Asuna just so they could rape her, just as the despicable and now disgraced Nobuyuki Sugou had once attempted in the virtual world? Since he was one of the closest people to her, he had naturally been questioned about her disappearance, but no further action was taken because there was no evidence to link him to any crime.  Asuna's mother still seemed to blame him somehow, even if she knew that he hadn't actually been responsible.  Yuuki Kyouko had never been particularly fond of him, looking down upon him as being "beneath" her daughter in spite of the everlasting bond that they had forged together.  She would have much preferred that her daughter marry some well-off businessman or a young heir.  It was the sort of thinking that had once led to Asuna being betrothed to Sugou, though Kyouko still contended that the match had been her husband Shouzou's idea and that she hadn't liked Sugou.  He had a feeling the two of them would never be able to see eye-to-eye. Two years after Asuna's disappearance, she had been declared legally dead. But Kazuto refused to believe it.  Asuna was strong, and she would survive.  And he would find her one day. Indeed, finding Asuna became his obsession to the detriment of all else.  He didn't sleep well anymore, and he would run himself ragged poring over any leads he could find.  His hair became wild from a lack of care, and his grades slipped, though he had enough natural brilliance with computers that he was still able to find enough part-time work to support himself while he worked on upgrading the capabilities of his A.I. daughter, Yui, who used her ability to sift through information at speeds impossible for a human to help him in his search for Asuna.  Suguha and the others were really worried about him, yet thankfully they had the decency not to make advances on him once they realized he would never be over Asuna.   Then one day in 2032, Kazuto heard the words he had long dreamed of. "Daddy!  I've found Mommy!" Yui shouted, waving him over to the computer terminal she was connected to.  His daughter still didn't have a body of her own, but she could navigate a simulated facsimile of the room based on camera feeds, and he now wore one of the first Neuro Linker models around his neck, projecting her image into his mind as if she were really there.  Invented within just the last year, it operated on similar principles to the NERV Gear and AmuSphere but it had considerably greater processing power and utilized a low-power quantum connection with the user's brain.  Unlike the devices that had preceded it, which were strictly for gaming, one could be fully awake while using a Neuro Linker, which allowed it to provide for Augmented Reality.  Not only did this let him experience Yui in his room, but it also functioned as a personal computer in which applications could be opened, closed, and used through thought, though it retained full dive capabilities.  It was a miraculous piece of technology, and he suspected that someone may have stolen some of his ideas to make it, but he couldn't bring himself to care with Asuna missing. Kazuto ran over to his daughter and her computer screen.  She still had the same child-like appearance as always, though recently she had begun to consider gradually updating her appearance so that she could "grow up" like any other couple's daughter.   "Where is she?" Kazuto asked anxiously. "Here, at the convention center," Yui replied, effortlessly bringing up a picture through her connection to the terminal. "Huh?"  Kazuto didn't see Asuna.   He saw someone's collection of dolls standing on a table.   "Yui, I think you've made some sort of mistake." "No, I'm certain of it, Daddy.  Look closer."  She magnified the image, zooming in on one of the dolls, one wearing a fancy red dress, a tiara and a white ribbon in its hair, and holding an tiny umbrella again its shoulder.  "Her face is the same as Mommy's, within a certainty of 95%."  Yui brought up several more pictures from different angles.  "Adding these to my analysis drives my certainty up to nearly 99.7%.   Her hair color is identical, and the style is similar - notice the braids on the sides of her head.  And this doll's name is even Asuna." Kazuto felt his mind spinning.   Was this just like the start of his journey into ALO, a picture leading him to Asuna?  But how could that really be Asuna?  It had to just be a doll based on her appearance.  But it was the best lead they had found in a while, and in his gut he knew it couldn't be a coincidence.  Someone couldn't have made such a doll without having plenty of references to Asuna's appearance on hand… or maybe, just maybe Asuna captive herself. "When and were were these pictures taken?" "Just a few minutes ago, in a convention center here in Tokyo, Daddy.   I'll search for the address for you."  Bringing up a search engine on her terminal, it only took moments for Yui to find the information.   "Thanks, Yui.  I'll check it out right away.  I owe Asuna that much if there's any chance that this could help me find her again." "Bring Mommy back soon, Daddy!" --------------------------------- The convention center was packed with people.  It had been a long time since Kazuto had been around so many people, in the real or virtual worlds, and he keenly felt his old awkwardness once again.  Otaku of all stripes were showing off their collections, and while he would have liked to check out the more technological exhibits, he was on a mission to find a very particular doll collection. And finally, he did. ------------ Asuna found it exhilarating to have so many people around admiring her, or even just going about their business, talking about various things.  The simple pleasure of being around people other than her owner was one she had been long starved of.  Yet the crowds also encouraged her rebellious thoughts.  Perhaps the black-haired swordsman, her true owner, would be among them and would come to see her. And then, she saw him!  He had come for her after all!  Even after five years, he was instantly recognizable to her, even if his hair was messier than she remembered it.  Seeing him also jogged her memory somewhat.  His name was Kirito! She was desperate to reach out to him, despite the fact that she had never been able to communicate with anyone since becoming a doll.  "Kirito-sama!  It's me, Asuna!  I'm down here!"  Maybe it was her sheer determination, or maybe it was her ability to easily empathize with Kirito given how well she knew him, but this time she actually got a response.  His head turned so that he was looking right at her, his eyes widened, and she heard another voice in her own mind. "Asuna?". ------- Kazuto clearly heard Asuna's voice, and, through his Neuro Linker, Yui heard it too ("Mommy!").  But when he turned toward the source of the voice, all he saw was the doll that Yui had pointed out to him.  But how could it have spoken?  Was it really Asuna after all?  Was this some kind of telepathy?  What was going on? "Yes, Kirito-sama, it's me, Asuna.  It's been so long since I've seen you, but I knew that you'd come for me one day." "Wait… Kirito-sama?  When did you start calling me that?  And how can you be a doll?  Please tell me that I'm not going crazy." Kazuto sensed an edge as sharp as steel pressing against his mind.   "That's mean, Kirito-sama.  You're my only true owner, so of course you deserve that honorific.  Though I suppose it's a long story as to how I got like this…  To make it short, magic.  Is that so hard to believe? We're already talking telepathically.  I can't speak on my own as a doll, so even this conversation with you is a miracle.  It's been years since I've been able to talk to anyone!" Kazuto supposed that made sense, and he was glad that some of Asuna's fierce personality remained, although the years of isolation had clearly gotten to her, muddling her memories and making her view herself as his doll rather than his wife.  Well, hopefully with time the independent Asuna who was his equal would return.  But first he had to figure out how he could help her get back to normal. "Okay, Asuna.  I believe you, and I promise you'll be back to your old self soon.  What do I need to - " "Can I help you?" the man displaying the doll collection asked, breaking Kazuto's concentration. "Oh - I was… just admiring your collection," Kazuto fumbled, while trying to see if he could somehow keep talking to Asuna.  He could still hear her voice in his mind, but he was having trouble reaching out to her now.  After all, it was nearly impossible to hold two coherent conversations at the same time.   "Ah, yes."  He beckoned down to Asuna.  "This doll is the pride of my collection.  Doubtlessly she's the one that caught your eye." "He's the one who stole me from you," Asuna continued, a venom that she had almost forgotten entering her tone.   "Does the doll have a name?" Kazuto asked, trying to sound natural. "Of course.  This one is named Asuna."  He paused.  "Do I know you from somewhere?" "Be careful, Daddy!" Yui chimed in through the Neuro Linker.  "He's getting suspicious!  Could he be another SAO survivor?" "He is," Asuna confirmed.   "I know, Yui, and thank you, Asuna" Kazuto thought back.  Returning his attention to Asuna's captor, he truthfully replied, "I can't say that I recall your face."  Trying to change the topic, he continued, "Would you be willing to sell Asuna?" It would surely be expensive, but if he could get Asuna away from him without any confrontation that would be all the better, especially in such a crowed convention center. "Sorry, but she's not for sale.  Asuna means too much to me.  Now maybe one of the others..." "Find out where he lives, and come for me." Asuna whispered into his mind.  "All you have to do is steal me back, Kirito-sama.  You've done that before, haven't you?" "I'll think about that then.  How may I contact you?" The collector handed him his card, complete with an e-mail address.   Bingo!  Kazuto could see that Asuna's captor was wearing a Neuro Linker as well, so all he would have to do is send an e-mail inquiring about the rest of the collection and attach a computer virus to it.  Once his foe's Neuro Linker was compromised, he could learn everything that he needed to know to rescue Asuna and he'd be able to confuse her captor's senses as well.   "Thank you," Kazuto replied, before turning to leave.  It would do him no good to further rouse suspicion here.   "I'll be back for you soon, Asuna." "I know." --------------------------------- "All too easy."  People just didn't learn, did they, even when the Neuro Linker had made it more important than ever to be vigilant in the security of one's computer, as it interfaced directly with one's brain. If you were a good enough hacker, you could even read the target's memories via the neurolinker.  Finding a particular memory wasn't easy, since they weren't organized quite like files were, and there would necessarily be a bit of fuzziness in the recall, but Kazuto had extensively studied the brain as part of his interest in VR technology, so he was sure that he could do it.   So what exactly was he up against?  To answer that question, he needed to know exactly how the man had abducted and transformed Asuna.  He figured that the best way to accomplish this would be to induce the stimulus of Asuna's appearance before her transformation, so that her captor would naturally recall the relevant memories.   And then he had them, the mental images triggered in the man's mind, which were relayed to Kazuto's own Neuro Linker, allowing him to experience them as if they were firsthand.   There were flashes of Asuna within Aincrad, of the man lecherously watching her from afar.  Of the man discovering his powers and testing them on other girls, just as practice for Asuna.   A flash of how he approached Asuna one day as she was leaving from class and hypnotized her into following him.  And he saw the man cast his fateful spells upon her, shrinking her and then drawing a mark that robbed her of mobility.  From there, the man put Asuna in a fancy dress and then on display on his shelf, where she stayed for five years. Kazuto could barely contain his rage, but he had to remain focused on what he was seeing so that he could formulate a plan. And then Kazuto saw another memory, one that was far more recent.  The man seemed to have decided that Asuna needed some friends to accompany her on his shelf, and he didn't mean just any friends like the other girls he had transformed over the years.  He had his eyes on Asuna's friends - Rika and Shino.  Sure, they now were "older" than Asuna, but they were both beautiful in their own right, and the man thought that it would be fun to dress them up in frilly outfits too, especially Shino. Now Kazuto's rage boiled over.  What the man had done to Asuna was already unforgivable, and now the villain planned to kidnap his friends too? And what sort of sick joke was it that it always seemed like there was some sort of stalker after them?   If the man's thoughts were any indication, Shino was his preferred target.  He'd approach her like he had Asuna, hypnotize her, and then lead her back to his apartment, where he'd transform her into his newest doll.  But as tempting as it was just to break into the man's apartment, immediately retrieve Asuna, and ambush him when he arrived with his would-be victim, Kazuto knew he couldn't do that.  Firstly, he couldn't let any of his friends be subjected to the man's control in good conscience if it was within his power to prevent it.  Secondly, it would be all too easy for the man to transform him there if the advantage of surprise was lost, and while that could reunite him with Asuna, it certainly an outcome to be avoided.  Lastly, there was the issue of what would happen to the man in the aftermath.  If he was allowed to go free, he would just keep transforming more young women… it wasn't as if the courts recognized "involuntary transformation" as a crime.  And if Kazuto broke into his apartment or killed him, Kazuto would find himself locked up for his own crimes and wouldn't be able to be with Asuna again.   So the solution was to catch the man in the act of trying to kidnap Shino - that was recognized as a real crime after all.  Once that was accomplished, retrieving Asuna from the man's apartment would be simple. Given how recent the memory was, he had to assume that the man would be going after Shino very soon.  As he hurried to where he could expect to find Shino, he could only hope that he wasn't too late to save her. --------------------------------------- "All too easy,"  the man thought.  Asada Shino stood before him, a distant look in her eyes, under his thrall, at least for now.  For an officer in training, she wasn't that tough.  The mind could be such a fragile thing, even if one gained a measure of inner strength over the years.  Sure, she had put up some mental resistance, but it was just a matter of finding the flaws in her resolve, punching holes in them, and then filling them in with pleasant visions that would pacify her.  She would see him as someone she trusted now, so that if he were to politely ask her to follow him, she would not object.   And then she would be his as a cute doll, right next to Asuna with a nice smile on her face. It had also been too easy to approach Shino as she left from work.  It was relatively late, and while the city was always busy, it was less so at this hour.  To any onlooker, he was probably just an acquaintance of hers who had paused to talk, and then they would leave together. Surely, there could be nothing suspicious about that.  Even when Shino was found to be missing, the chances of witnesses testimony leading back to him was slim at best.  Besides, he liked to change his attire regularly, and also varied his hairstyle or wore wigs while acquiring his new dolls, so even if people did report seeing someone talking to young women before their disappearances, the police wouldn't have a consistent description for the subject. Of course, if someone was to get too nosy, they'd notice Shino's stupor, and that would be suspicious.  But people were always in a hurry, so few would pause for a closer look. Yet… someone was getting closer right now, hurrying toward him with undeniable purpose.  How had he messed up?  Was it an acquaintance of Shino's, come to meet with her unbeknownst to him, who was alarmed at seeing her with a stranger?   No… this wasn't a coincidence.  The would-be meddler was familiar to him.   He had seen the black-haired man at the convention, where he had showed off Asuna like she was any other doll proudly in his collection.  And then it clicked.  The man was Kirito, Asuna's boyfriend!  Kirito would have recognized her anywhere.  How had he been so careless not to realize the black-haired man's identity before?  And Kirito was Shino's friend as well.  He didn't know how Kirito had pieced together that Shino was his next target, but that wasn't important right now… stopping Kirito was. Other eyes were already being drawn to Kirito's motion, and then he shouted "Shino!".  Now Kirito had really made a scene, and Shino blinked next to him, a sign that his hold over her was wavering.  He'd certainly lose control over her if he had to hypnotize the whole crowd.  Could he even manage to do it for so many people at once?  Even if he could, the strength of his suggestions would certainly be diffused among them. That was not a viable strategy, especially when Kirito was nearly upon him. No, he'd have to flee with Shino while he could still control her, and then he could fight back against Kirito when there were fewer people around.   Once it was just the two of them, he could turn Kirito into a doll as well… and then smash him into pieces.  He wasn't interested in collecting male dolls, and he was feeling rather vindictive after Kirito had ruined what should have been an easy acquisition.  And so he grabbed Shino by the arm, and began forcibly dragging her along with him. But then, a shadow loomed over him from behind.  Turning around, he saw a giant, black-haired girl, who seemed to be getting bigger by the moment.  Or was he shrinking?  It was utterly absurd, but he found himself rooted to the spot. "You're going to pay for what you did to Mommy," the black-haired girl said as she reached down toward him with a now-massive hand.   He was powerless to resist.  Was this how his dolls felt after he transformed them?  All he could do was scream. He didn't even notice that Shino had woken fully from her trance, and he only felt himself getting bludgeoned in the back of the head by her bag before losing consciousness. ---------------------------- It wasn't long before the raving lunatic and would-be kidnapper was taken away by the police. Shino, of course, had to make a statement, stating that the man had indeed tried to kidnap her, but Kazuto had apparently slipped away in the aftermath of the incident.  Wasn't he going to tell her what was going on?  It was infuriating! Finally, she was free to go, and soon thereafter she received a call from Kazuto, asking to meet with her.  It was about time! Kazuto was there to greet her when she arrived at his residence.  There was a look of relief on his face that she hadn't seen in years.   "Please, come in." She nodded, and stepped inside. "I believe I owe you an explanation, Shino." "You've got that right." "Firstly, this all has to do with Asuna." There it was again.  Kazuto had never been able to get beyond the grim truth that Asuna had been kidnapped and likely murdered.  But seeing that he had saved her tonight, and for old times' sake, she felt compelled to listen to him. "I'm listening." "The man who tried to kidnap you tonight was the same man who kidnapped Asuna five years ago." "How do you know that?" "It's a long story… you'd think I was crazy if I didn't have proof with me. But I do."  With that, he picked up an exquisite porcelain doll with strawberry-blonde hair and a gorgeous red dress and a tiara, making it look like a princess, and reverentially set it down in front of her. "Um… I'm sorry, Kazuto, but I don't follow." "Look more carefully at her." This was getting really weird, but Shino played along.  Adjusting her glasses (although she didn't really need to, since the lenses were non-corrective), she squinted and bent forward to get a good look at the doll's face. Wait!  That was Asuna's face!  And the braided hair…  Kazuto couldn't mean? "Hello, Sinonon.  It's been a while, hasn't it?" Asuna's voice said directly into her mind, using the affectionate nickname that she had once used for Shino. Shino almost fell out of her chair, and narrowly avoided knocking the doll over in her surprise. "Be careful, Sinonon!  You wouldn't want to break me on my first night among friends in five years!  Unfortunately, I'm very fragile right now." The doll was talking to her.  The doll was Asuna! "I'm dreaming," Shino told herself.  She gave herself a hard pinch.  It hurt.  "But I'm not.  How can this be?" "I'd be lying if I told you that I fully understood it myself," Kazuto replied.  "But it seems that some sort of magic really exists in our world.  And that man used it to turn Asuna into a doll.   He was planning to do the same to you next, adding you to his collection and putting you onto a shelf next to her."   "Though I would have enjoyed your company, it's good Kirito-sama was able to get to you when he did.  And then, he came back for me, so I got to see you again anyway.  But I can't help but think of how cute you would have looked, Sinonon.  You'll have to dress up for me one day." "What?!"  Shino felt her face burning red. "Was it something I said?" Asuna asked innocently. "Of course there is!  Me, dressing up as a doll?  And why are you calling him Kirito-sama?  You were close, but you never had that kind of relationship!" "You'll have to forgive Asuna," Kazuto replied. "The ordeal took a toll on her, and it may be a while before she's back to her old personality.  But the more she can interact with her old friends, the faster I think her recovery will be." "I see… well, I suppose I can do that."  But no sooner had her embarrassment passed, another thought occurred to her.  "Kazuto, why weren't you at the station when they brought that stalker in?  Of course, the police wouldn't have believed the story about Asuna being a doll, but you still should have been there to give testimony." "I was retrieving Asuna." "Are you saying that you used me as BAIT so that you could break into his apartment while he was detained?" "He was going after you anyway, it was the best way too…." SLAP!  "Unbelievable!" "Sinonon, how could you?  Even if Kirito-sama did have an ulterior motive, if he hadn't come for you when he did, you would have been captured too." "Hmph.  Fine.   But don't think I'll forget this soon." "Oh, before I forget, Asuna, there's something I should take care of," Kazuto added, carefully lifting her up again, and lifting her hair to reveal a mark on the back of her neck.  Rubbing out the mark, he set her down again.  "Do you feel any better now?" -------------------- Asuna felt a strange sensation throughout her porcelain body.  She still didn't have any muscles or blood flowing through her veins (or veins at all for that matter), but it was animated nonetheless.  Experimentally, she flexed an arm, and then took a few dainty steps off her stand.  High above her, Sinonon was freaking out, but Kirito-sama's smile was beaming down on her.   How odd it felt to be able to move on her own again… she had almost forgotten that she had enjoyed this sort of freedom once, how she had once been the Flash, gracefully dashing across the battlefield.  Well, that had been in world other than this one, in another life, with a virtual body, but she remembered it all the same. Of course, she wouldn't be setting any speed records with her current porcelain body, lest she risk tripping and smashing herself.  If that happened, she had no idea if Kirito-sama would ever be able to put her back together again, let alone restore her to how she had once been… a human being.  Her range of motion was also far more limited than when she had been human, as she could only move at her joints.  Consequently, she was stuck with the same smiling expression that she had worn for five years, only now, she sincerely felt that way.   For all of the shortcomings of her situation, it was enough for now. Carefully mounting her stand once again, she let herself become still, though the animating energy continued to flow through her. "I think I'll rest here for now," she said telepathically to the one whom she truly belonged to in heart, porcelain body, and soul. "I don't mind if you keep me on your shelf until you figure out how to restore me to my old self.  You can do that, right?" "It will take some time… I'm going to have to study that book that creep had in his room... it's where he learned his magic.  But I promise you Asuna, I will, no matter how long it takes." "I waited five years… I can wait a few more, and I don't mind if it's for you.  In the meantime, we'll have to invite Liz and all of the others over, and have a party.  I can't wait to see the looks on their faces." "What about your parents?" She would have frowned if she could. "It's… probably best if they don't see me like this.  They wouldn't understand.  But once I'm restored… we'll see them then." "I agree.  Well, I'll make things as comfortable for you here as I can in the meantime… and get a lot of cushions for the room." "And I," Sinonon added, having finally composed herself, "will pretend I heard none of this, especially that part about breaking and entering. But no matter what you've forgotten Asuna, never forget how lucky you are to have him, even as a doll."  Was there jealousy in her voice? And so began the next phase of Asuna's life.   She had no idea how long it would be before she would be human again, but she looked toward that future with hope, secure in the knowledge that she was no longer a captive behind glass.