#mori probably had to balance it out because my boy was Going Through It and skk need to stay on equal footing more or less for it to work

[originalaccountname]

in Storm Bringer, Iceman mentions Chuuya punching a guy through (several) ceilings for having asked him about his past. That guy was a wholeseller Chuuya was supposed to be making a deal with for the jewel trade he was in charge of. That incident happened July 18th, and it took the guy 3 months to heal.

Now, we know both halves of skk were 15 in, well, Fifteen, and that at this time in SB, they should both be 16. Chuuya's birthday is in April, and Dazai's, June.

Since there was a time skip of a month at the end of Fifteen, the punching incident can't have been from then, as we need at least that amount of time for Dazai's birthday to have already passed. So this was after the boys' 16th birthdays, July 18th +3 months, placing SB's events at somewhere at least mid-October, even November.

The events of SB take place over like, at most, 2 weeks, between the Flags' deaths and the final fight. Then, there's another one-month skip in the epilogue, +1.5 month, so we're now at minimum in December-January range.

The Dragon's Head Conflict is said to have happened "shortly after the King of Assassins incident". Skk should still be 16 during the conflict, so we have until the end of April to get there. The conflict lasted for 88 days, nearly 3 months, bringing us to a bare minimum of it starting at the tail end of January.

What I'm saying is there was barely 6 months, most likely even less, between SB and the end of the Dragon's Head Conflict. The PM might have mostly avoided taking part in it (canon reason why they managed to take over the underworld in its wake), but they still suffered from it all the same, especially since they had just spent and lost a lot of resources during their fight against Verlaine.

Also Chuuya must have had like 3 months to make those friends before losing them too.

[tender-rosiey]

Hi there, just wondering if I could put in a request for Ranpo, Chuuya, Akutagawa, Atsushi and Kunikida working with (and maybe even falling for???) someone who is super energetic and boisterous (reminiscent of bb nishinoya)?

I hope this makes sense 🥺 have a good day/night

❥ Bsd Characters working and falling for an energetic reader

Includes: Ranpo,Kunikida, Chuuya, Atsushi and Akutagawa

ᴀ/ɴ: I hope you like this 🥺❤️ I hope you have a wonderful day/night as well dear! This will be fun since I am a Nishinoya kinnie 👀

Ranpo Edogawa:

This adorable bby

“CAN I GET PAIRED UP WITH Y/N?!”

Chaotic duo

You guys are literally the sunshine’s of the Agency

He loves hanging out with you

You are the only person he shares his snacks with

Ranpo, yosano and you are a wonderful trio

Your missions together are always enjoyable and fun

Makes you laugh because he loves the sound of your laugh but you didn’t hear that from me

So yeah he would love working with you

It always brightens up his day

He literally subconsciously smiles when you enter

You guys like to buy candy and stroll the around the city together

Now falling for you

It will be a very fun rollercoaster for our dear detective

You can sometimes be unexpected even to him

Despite being an open book and being the most energetic and sunshine bby in the agency

Sometimes he gets surprised with stuff you do

If you hug him out of excitement then he will be normal in front of you and hug you

With a cute “YAY Y/N-CHAN HUGS!”

But after you turn your cute face away he wil be a blushing mess

And alone

He will be reconsidering his life choices and thank the heavens about blessing him with you

Let’s talk about when someone makes you sad

He will guilt trip them and ruin their self-esteem

“Are you stupid enough to make Y/N sad?”

He will give you his candy so your cute smile can be present again

Kunikida Doppo:

opposites attract check ✨

Yes queen

However he finds you somewhat more tolerable than another bandage wasting machine

He does keep your hyper state at bay though

“Y/N calm down.”

“YES SIR”

Smile at him though and he will let you do anything you want

Except blowing up the city 🤡

Enjoys your company when you are calm

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t when you are energetic

He enjoys it nonetheless but likes calm conversations between you two

Likes to softly smack you on the head with his book of ideals

SOFTLY AND LIGHTLY THO

He doesn’t like people who hit innocent ladies

Smiles at you when he sees you happy

Behind your back tho

A fond soft smile

Soft kunikida yay <3

He is like your legal guardian

“Y/N GET OFF THE ROOF!”

“COME AND GET ME hehe~”

Speaking of “hehe” or giggling

He loves it

And when he falls for you, your personality would be a major reason

“She doesn’t meet 13 of my ideals...HOW DID I FALL FOR HER”

Cue you laughing and greeting him

“Oh yeah that’s why”

You balance out the serious or stern attitude of his with the bubbly and energetic attitude of yours

Ruffles your hair when he is proud

Is kunikda the type to wink?

Absolutely not

Unless ;)

Sometimes you prank our dear blonde here so yes he gets a little mischievous with you

You are buried in a lot of work?

Kunikida will pass by and wink at you

Yes that fine man is what got you the work

And that’s the only time you will find him winking at your perfect figure (yes you are perfect and if you dare oppose then I will hug you to death)

Kunikida winking pls 🤭

He will scold anyone who dares and make you sad

“WE HAVE A RULE THAT LITERALLY SAYS NEVER MAKE Y/N SAD”

They don’t but he hates seeing you down

Chuuya Nakahara:

You are his child that he will beat anyone that will touch or make sad

He sees you as this precious day of sunshine in the port mafia

That literally makes everyone smile

So

He protects you with his laifu cause you are a potential waifu

But we will talk about that later on

SO

He enjoys working with you

You make the mission much lighter to deal with

But

If he is annoyed and can’t handle any noise around him

Then he will calmly ask you to calm down and tell you that he had a rough day before

He loves how you are understanding and nod smiling

Pets your head

“AYE AYE DONT MAKE Y/N SAD OR I WILL FUCK YOU UP”

Kouyou taught elegance for nothing 😔

He starts falling for your cute self

At a point chuuya will view your smile as a blessing

Specially if he is the one who causes it

Loves your personality and how you never fail to cheer him up

Soft smiles whenever you aren’t looking cause my man has a reputation to keep

He adores your hugs btw

“Thanks sunshine”

Yes that is his nickname for you even before getting together

You know how sometimes people run their knuckles onto someone’s head when mad?

He does that when you do something stupid

But he does it gently

When you are sad

Then all hell is let loose

At everyone but you 🥰

And Mori cause Chuuya isn’t fucked up in the mind so he can mess with that guy

Will let you hug him out

Tries and make you smile by telling you funny stories about dazai and how stupid he is

“You are my sunshine. My only sunshine.”

A line he had wrote in his diary while describing you

Yes I believe he has a diary but it will die with him

Atsushi Nakajima:

He adores you

Like another bby that will protect you

You are like Kenji but more energetic

He can never say no to you

Gets beyond flustered when you hug him

Likes seeing you hyper

Watches over you in case shit goes down

He enjoys missions with you

They are so much fun :0

You guys even go around Yokohama and get whatever you want after you are done

These cutesy smiles whenever you are super excited over something

Will get you anything and everything

Will apologize on your behalf if someone gets harmed by whatever you did

Per example

You broke a vase in the blinds of being so excited for the mission

Atsu will put you behind him and apologize

The owner of the bar of course will forgive you cause

A cute innocent boy and a ball of sunshine standing in front of him

He can’t be a cruel little shit to you so he lets you go without anything

Probably gives you something as a souvenir 🤡

He will do anything so you don’t ever feel down

However if you do then he will be by your side trying to making you laugh

Comfort you

You name it

He treasures your smile dearly even before loving you romantically

But as bby fell for you

He payed attention to little things you do even more

If he isn’t working on something on the agency then he is staring at you with a smile and releases a dreamy sigh

He could be going through a shit of a day and he will be at his best when he sees you

You know how he got flustered over hugging him?

Yeah now he becomes a tomato and lays on the floor fanboying

Simp

Whenever you greet him then he will blush, rub the back of his neck and waves shyly

His crush on you is so obvious though

Y/N RELEASE THE BOY FROM THE HELL OF BEING OBLIVIOUS TO YOUR FEELINGS AND TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke:

It’s heaven and hell for him hen he works with you

You are a great duo

But that’s not the actual heaven part

So what’s good about it is that he finds your presence sort of comforting

But GOODNESS IF YOU ARENT SO NOISY

He can’t handle it

Literally like tsukki to yams

“HEY AKUTAGAWA”

“Y/N shut up”

“No :D”

Little glares when you are too loud

He doesn’t really care about anyone around him

But

It slightly bothers him when you are down

He is so used to your bubbly and energetic attitude so to see something opposite to that is

Annoying in a sense or another

Flicks your forehead

“Cheer up idiot, it’s weird when you are sad”

How considerate wow

And falling for you would be something that surprised him

Aside from Higuchi trying to kill you

Aku started to savor your energetic attitude or aura

Slowly liked it

He even smiles a really really smol smile when you are looking at something

And like YOU ARE REALLYYYYY EXCITED

Pats you on the shoulder when proud

Yes he is copying “DAZAiIIIiiiiIi-sAaAaAAaaN”

Also now he can’t say no to you

“AKUTAGAWA I WANT CHOCOLATE”

“No”

Keep jumping around while smiling and saying please

And akutagawa will go “tch”

And let you get whatever you want

Oh yeah now that he likes you

Anyone that makes you sad loses an arm 😽

Overprotective

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[sundaysundaes]

Into the Forest of Fireflies’ Light

Lee Taeyong X Reader, feat. Haechan | Fluff, Best Friends to Lovers, Angst | Supernatural AU | 18k

Summary: You can only remember summer. Of the love you could never receive. Of the lips you could never truly taste. Of the warmth you could never take. And of a boy with smiles so soft, being consumed by the fireflies’ lights (strongly based on a beautiful Japanese animated movie called Hotarubi no Mori e)

Dear Taeyong, 

I can only remember summer

Of the taste of the dry weather on our tongues

Of the songs the cicadas chanted behind our backs

Of the sunlight that bit through our skins

Of the summer dresses and cat masks we once had

I remember that twig of an oak tree between our hands 

Separating you and me, life and death

That warm goodbye from your usually quiet lips

The way you said, “Until we meet next summer.”

And how I always truly, desperately, believed in it

You are the beautiful reality in my sleep

The blissful dream in my wake

I will see you again next summer

I miss you

***

Dear my love,

I can only love summer

Of faith that bloomed between us

Of loving smiles that shone when I glanced away 

Of the longing distance we put between us

And the fireflies’ light that will soon consume me

I will wait for our late exchange of secret words

And next time, I will take your warm goodbye from your lips

“Until we meet on the next life, Taeyong,” you said

Yes, that’s true

Until we meet on the next life, my dear

Because of you, I have truly lived

Our summer will last for eternity

I love you

“Make sure you listen to your uncle, okay?” Your mother says in her motherly way just like how she usually does. “Do you have your handkerchief? Your ticket? A nice pair of shoes. Don’t zone out and miss your stop. You’re always clumsy like that.”

You straighten up with one bag slinging around your shoulder and another one hanging around your wrist. With a casual pair of flip-flops, a white sleeveless summer dress decorated with broderie details, and your lips curving upwards in a farewell smile, you respond, “Jeez, Mom. I’ve been going there every year. I’ll be fine. I’m taking off now, okay?”

Although your mother seems unsatisfied with your words, she lets her daughter kiss her cheek and waves her hand goodbye. As you take the first step out of your house, the sun quickly showers you with light that is hot enough to leave sunburn on your skin. The trip to the nearest bus stop will be nothing but exhausting, you’re sure of it. But it’s okay. It’s summer anyway. You always love summer.

The bus comes only a few minutes later after you arrived at the stop and dropped your heavy bags next to your feet. You take a seat on the right side of the bus, near the window. There are only three passengers on the vehicle aside from you—a man with a sweaty neck on the front row, and a mother cooling her half-sleepy child with her paper fan on the back seat. You smile a little to yourself. Everything seems normal, just like always.

You lay your head on the window, randomly staring at the trees and leaves getting blown by the wind, as the bus starts moving. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, letting your memories come close and your thoughts fly back to him.

The first time you met Taeyong was when you were six.

***

Thirteen years ago, you were nothing but a lively little kid with short-cropped hair and choppy bangs. During a hot summer day, you got lost in the forest of the Mountain God, which was said to be where spirits lived. After running around searching for an exit, you became so tired; you couldn’t move a muscle. You ended up sitting under the shadows of the swaying tree branches and felt a little ticklish from the green grass that spread widely underneath your feet. You hugged your knees to your chest, gave your best to act strong but failing pathetically with every try. When you started crying from fear and loneliness, he appeared before you.

“Hey, Shorty!” A male’s voice resonating through the air made you gasp sharply. “Why are you crying?”

There was a boy, standing just a few meters away, with half of his body hidden behind a tree. His posture seemed a bit rigid as if he was nervous or shy for suddenly reaching out to you. The boy was noticeably taller, with a voice that sounded deeper than any boy you’d ever met before. But judging by the way he dressed—at his denim trousers that ended a few inches above his ankles, combined with a casual short-sleeved button-down white shirt and a red tee underneath it, he was probably still around eighteen.

What caught your attention was the cat mask he wore on his face. It wasn’t unusual—you had seen your friends wearing it a few times during the summer festival. The white mask had ears, whiskers, and big round black eyes that were continuously staring back at you with no emotion. The mask covered his entire face, but you could still see his hair. His hairstyle was normal—a little bit messy from the wind, with his strands ended a few centimeters above his neckline, but the color was odd. It was silvery white, almost like an old man’s.

“It’s…” You gaped, not caring about any of that fact at the moment. “It’s a person! I’m saved!” You claimed happily, standing on your feet with so much speed, it almost gave you a head rush. With your hands spreading in front of you, you frantically ran towards the boy with joyful tears in your eyes. “I’M FINALLY SAVEEEEEED!”

But with a quick reaction, the boy moved away before you could embrace him and you ended up landing face-first on the ground, with a handful of grass finding their way to stick themselves into your mouth.

“S-sorry,” the boy said apologetically but he didn’t move any closer to help you up. “You’re a human child, right? If a human touches me, I’ll disappear.”

Previously annoyed, you looked up at him with knitted eyebrows. “If a human?” You blinked twice in confusion. Your eyelashes were still a bit wet from the tears that were no longer falling. “You’re not human?”

A momentary silence came by before he formed an answer. “I’m…” He hesitated. “Something that lives in this forest.”

“Huh?” You unconsciously tilted your head before realization hit you like a train and you clapped your hands in glee. “Then, you’re one of the Spirits?” Another silence, and this time, the boy decided not to reply, so you tried again. “But… What do you mean by ‘disappear’?”

He stayed mute, his body standing still as if time just stopped. You couldn’t see the expression he had behind the mask so you wouldn’t know how he reacted. You could only see the flat emotion the cat mask was giving you as he continuously stared at you. If you weren’t a playful little girl with a naturally born cheery attitude, you would’ve found it creepy.

But instead, you found it rather amusing.

You reached out your little hand toward him, climbing back to your feet and when he moved away from your touch, you began to try harder. Every time the boy tried to escape, you laughed a bit louder, tried a bit better, and before you knew it, you ended up chasing him between the trees.

You ran after him, reaching out for him, closer, closer, closer—

Thunk!

You groaned in pain, covering your bruised forehead with both palms as you kneeled on the ground. You couldn’t believe he just hit you on the head with a twig!

“Y-you’re really not human after all…” You whimpered, rubbing your ache away. “No human would hit a child like that!”

When you began to sob a little from the pain, the boy sighed. “To disappear means to be obliterated,” he explained, slowly taking his eyes off you to face the sky instead, “That’s the spell that the Mountain God placed upon me. If I get touched by a human, then that’s the end.”

You had stopped crying by the time his sentences sank into your head. His previous action was really necessary, then, if he was truly in that condition. If you had kept on chasing him and he’d failed to avoid you, he would’ve disappeared. Now that you thought of it, you realized you nearly killed him with your antics.

“I’m…” Still sitting on the ground, you folded your knees underneath you and bowed down, overwhelmed with guilt. “I’m sorry…”

With an unreadable expression, the boy approached you and gently offered the wooden twig. “Here, Shorty,” he said, “Grab the other end.” When you gazed up at him, he was facing away. His posture seemed to give out a vibe that he was a bit embarrassed but you weren’t exactly sure of it. “You’re lost, aren’t you? I'll lead you out of the forest.”

You were surprised at first, both from his kindness and his features, because from that position, you could see the side of his face. His jawlines were sharp and prominent. The skin of his cheek was just as pale as the rest of his body. He was so white; it was almost ghastly.

You beamed at him. “You’re so nice! Thank you!” Moving by reflex, you began to run toward his arms again. The boy was screaming from being caught off guard, and you almost got him before—

Thunk!

You were stopped by another hard hit on the head.

“I’ve told you not to—” The boy was breathing hard with his body leaning forward and his hands clamped around his knees to steady his weight. “Don’t touch me.”

You were practically rolling on the grass to mute the aching you felt on your temple. “S-sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

The two of you walked next to each other with thirty centimeters long wooden twig between your hands. With every stride he took, you had to match it by doubling your steps. Your height difference was striking. It almost looked like you two were siblings—with him being the high school student older brother and you being his elementary school sister.

You were walking down some stone steps, tightening your grip around the twig to maintain your balance. There was a temple inside the forest, and that was the only way out. You usually followed that path to come back home but that day, you were having too much fun wandering around on your own that you forgot the way to find those tracks again.

There were abandoned Buddhist statues on the side of the stairs and the steps had some cracks on them even though they were made of stone. You could tell that the place would be too scary to walk alone when the night fell and the cicadas stopped singing. But right now, you couldn’t care much about it.

“It’s just like going on a date!” You chirped happily, jumping like the little girl that you were as you climbed down the steps. You hadn’t known how a date would feel like—after all, you were only six back then—but you had imagined it happening with a boy in your school, and this one fit your imagination well.

The boy had his free hand stuck inside his pocket. With a nonchalant voice, he replied, “Not a very romantic one, though.” And when you weren’t looking, he stole secret glances at you. Of course, with the mask still on, there wouldn’t be much of a difference, even if you had been looking.

“You aren’t afraid, are you?” he asked, and although you were surprised, you grinned at him.

“Of what?”

The boy seemed a bit hesitant before he answered, “Nevermind.”

You walked a few more steps until you finally arrived at the end of the stairs. The sun in the background was already setting, splashing orange tint to the previously blue sky. “If you go straight, you’ll hit the mountain path,” the boy said, standing under the simple wooden gate with no doors that indicated the entrance to the forest. And with his usual flat tone, he said, “Goodbye.”

“Are you always going to be here?” You questioned. “If I come back here, can we meet again?”

“This is the forest where the Mountain God and the Spirits live,” he answered matter of factly. “Set foot within and you’ll lose your way and be lost forever.” The wind was blowing, caressing his silvery-white hair and that made you stare in awe, memorizing how out of this world he seemed and wondering what kind of expression he displayed behind that mask. “You shouldn’t be here,” he finished. “That’s what the villagers say, right?”

That was true. It was, and you understood that, and yet, you just couldn’t wave this meeting away as if it never happened. Facing him a little bit better, you warmly smiled and introduced yourself. “I’d love to be your friend. Can you tell me your name?”

He didn’t say a word, just continued to stand in front of you with his cat mask staring back at your face. You waited… and waited… and even a second felt so long.

Those expressionless cat’s eyes kept staring back at you, making you feel somewhat woozy and embarrassed. It was as if you just asked something too personal. Perhaps he didn’t want you to know. Perhaps he didn’t want you to be attached to him. Perhaps he just wanted you to go away.

“U-umm…” Panicking, you took a step back, putting more distance between you. “Anyway, I’ll be back tomorrow with a thank-you present!” Just that, and I won’t come back if my presence bothers you so much. “B-bye!” You shouted, turning around on your heels and proceed to run from the tension that felt like cutting your skin open.

But then—

“It’s Taeyong.”

You stopped abruptly and turned around, but the boy was no longer in sight. His voice vanished without a trace, drowned by the wind.

But you heard it loud enough to put a permanent smile on your face that night.

Taeyong.

When you were walking by the fields that seemed more familiar, you were humming to yourself. It was until you heard your name being called that you stopped singing.

Your uncle was walking toward you with tattered breathing. Perhaps, he had been running around the village searching for you all day. “Uncle!” You greeted, grinning innocently as you ran toward his arms. “Uncle, I—”

“You stupid girl!” Your uncle landed a knock on your head before you could hug him and it was the third time you felt like your head was about to explode that day. “If you go into the forest on your own and get hurt, what are you going to do?!”

You finally began to realize that possibility and ended up crying as you ran to embrace him again. Your uncle let your tiny arms wind themselves around his waist and though he was still upset, he felt more relieved than anything. He patted your back and soon after you calmed down, you began to walk with your hands holding one another.

“Hey, Uncle.”

“Hmm?”

“Is it true that there are spirits living in that forest?”

“The Mountain God’s forest, huh? Who knows. That’s what they say,” he answered in an unusually serious demeanor. But when he started again, he had a tiny smile painted upon his lips. “When I was little, I wanted to meet the spirits so my friends and I often went into the forest. In the end, I never met any but I had the feeling I’d occasionally spot something from the corner of my eye. On summer nights, you could hear the sounds of the river coming from the forest. And now that I think about it, Hyori said she and her friends went and had fun at a summer festival in the forest. But there’s no way the villagers would’ve held a festival in the forest. So then, whose festival could it have been? It started this crazy story that they must’ve snuck into a festival for the spirits.”

The old man with a scruffy beard was laughing, his eyes glistening with the reminiscence of his childhood. “Man, that takes me back!” he exclaimed. “We were so stupid back when we were kids.” Then he laughed some more. You were only busy carving his story into your mind.

That night, you had trouble sleeping. The last words that Taeyong spoke to you were echoing in your head.

This is the forest where the Mountain God and the Spirits live. Set foot within and you’ll lose your way and be lost forever.

You understood that and yet…

***

“You came back,” Taeyong said, sitting at the end of the stone stairs where you parted ways the day before. He was wearing the same clothes, with the same cat mask on his face. “I didn’t think you’d really come back.”

You blinked your eyes, mouth slightly parted. The question ‘Was he waiting for me?’ ran through your mind. “You…”

The boy tilted his head, “Huh?”

“YOU WAITED FOR MEEEEE!” You screamed in excitement, running towards him in reflex with your arms reaching forward. The boy yelped in surprised then—

Thunk!

“You just don’t learn, do you?” Taeyong sighed, holding the same wooden twig he held on the previous day. Though the pain on the top of your head was throbbing, you chuckled, feeling your heart burst in warmth and joy.

“I was so happy, I just…” you giggled again. “Sorry.”

The boy leaped forward, approaching the spot where you were squatting down due to the pain. Taeyong pocketed both of his hands and threw his face to the side. “It’s a bit hot here. Shall we go somewhere cooler?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry,” he assured, climbing up the stairs even though he just hopped down from there. Perhaps he wanted to walk beside you? “I’ll walk you back again.”

Your lips broke into the biggest grin you had ever made in your six years of living. “Okay!”

You went inside the forest, walking next to one another with nothing but air between you. You wondered if Taeyong had decided to trust you now, or if he was just being polite. You offered him the vanilla ice cream you’d brought from your uncle’s shop and the two of you ate your ices in silence. But the thing was, the silence was never awkward. You knew by then that Taeyong wasn’t much of a talker, and you were already too happy for being able to spend your day not with just a new friend, but also your first Spirit friend. It felt surreal and exciting at the same time.

The deeper you went inside the forest, you found out that the trees were bigger, almost taking all of the blazing sunlight to themselves and left none for you and Taeyong to bask on. The wind felt soft on your skin, the scent of grass and blooming flowers filled the air.

Your smile never receded from view when you walked behind Taeyong. It was only when you noticed that something had been following you that you began to frown. “Hmm?” You were sure something was following you, but Taeyong was walking like everything was normal.

As you were about to dismiss the thought, a shadow crept along the ground, a layer of dark mist clouded your vision, then a voice, low but thunderous, spoke. “Taeyong.”

You froze, your fingers almost gripping at the end of Taeyong’s shirt. The shadow turned colossal, darker, and somehow, somehow, you could see it grinning eerily at you.

“Is that a human child?” the shadow asked in a reverberating voice. You could practically feel its eyes on your skin. “Can I eat her?”

You hastily moved to the side with your tiny steps, hiding behind Taeyong’s legs. The boy noticed your fear and he quickly set out a hand to let his opponent know that you were off-limit. “No,” he said, “She’s my friend.”

“Is that so?” The shadow’s voice reminded you of the sound of the dark grey clouds rumbling before the storm came to wash the earth. “Human child, please don’t touch Taeyong’s skin. If you do, I’ll eat you.”

You were so scared; you started to shiver all over. By the way you were clutching to his shirt, Taeyong realized that you were, indeed, only a vulnerable little girl, barely knew anything about the world and the secrets it held. “Hey—” But then he abruptly sneezed.

The Shadow suddenly shrieked in horror then there was a blast of smoke, making you jolt on your feet, tiny hairs standing up at your nape. When you managed to look between the mist with narrowed eyes, that shadowy figure turned into a cute little golden fox with nine furry tails and a pair of sparkling ruby eyes.

“Oh!” It was so tiny, you could probably hold it with both hands. “Is that a Spirit Fox?”

The Fox’s fur was standing up, perhaps it was startled by Taeyong’s sudden sneeze. It wasn’t even that loud—to be honest, Taeyong’s sneeze was much quieter than how your uncle used to do. To be frightened only because of that…

“Yeah, he’s another one of the Spirits. He transforms to scare people away, but he’s all bark and no bite,” Taeyong said, approaching the little golden fox that was hiding behind a tree with its body cowering to the ground. “Isn’t that right?” The boy bent down, grabbing the fox with both hands, and lifted it off the ground. “Haechannie?”

Puff!

There was another kind of explosion that clouded the forest with ash grey mist, and you coughed a couple of times before you gazed back to the Fox. It was no longer a fox—it was a person.

Taeyong was holding a boy’s waist with both hands just like how he did to the animal before and your jaw grew slack at the sight. The golden fox just turned into a human—a male, nonetheless—with golden hair and the same pair of ruby eyes that matched the blush that crept through his cheeks. His skin, you noticed, had a darker complexion but it complimented his looks so much as if he was kissed by the sun, smooth skin glistening under the light. He also had a pair of dog-like ears and a nice golden Foxtail that resembled his previous form. And although the color of his hair and eyes were striking, it didn’t startle you as much as the fact that the boy was naked.

You screamed, immediately turning around from the sight of the two boys facing each other with Taeyong’s hands still holding Haechan’s bare waist as if it was the most normal thing to do. You had your hands covering your face, feeling embarrassed since it was the first time you witnessed a naked boy’s body.

“It’s because you startled me,” Haechan whined, arms flailing as he blushed a bit deeper. “Now let go of me, Hyung.”

Taeyong sighed, taking his hands off the boy that appeared to be the same age as him—just a couple of years younger, maybe. He didn’t seem to be bothered by Haechan’s bare skin at all, though he looked tired of his antics. “Don’t bother her, okay? She’s a friend.” Taeyong pointed his head toward you squatting down on the ground with your back turned, face sinking into your palms. You could hear Taeyong telling him your name but Haechan snorted in response.

“I don’t care what her name is!” Haechan shouted, looking away from the other boy. “Why are you getting all chummy with her even though you just met!” The way he whined so childishly was the complete opposite of the way he talked in his monstrous shadow form earlier. “And she’s a human! What would you do if she touches you by accident?” With a prominent pout, Haechan added under his breath, “You’re such an idiot.”

With the cat mask staring flatly at him, Taeyong replied, “I can hear you, you know.”

“Ah, damn it!” Haechan groaned, giving the other boy a shove on his shoulder. “I won’t cry if you disappear, all right?! It will all be your fault! Taeyongie, you big idiot!” He quickly turned back into his animal form, nipped Taeyong’s finger with his pointy teeth, and climbed the tree with his little paws.

Taeyong yelped a little from the bite but more because of the shock instead of pain. “Haechannie!” he called, but the fox spirit never looked back, jumping from one branch to another until he disappeared behind the trees. The cat-masked boy huffed and walked back towards you. “He’s gone now,” Taeyong said, bending down a little to match your height. “I’m sorry if he scared you.”

You slowly sneaked a glance behind you, and it was true. Haechan was nowhere to be seen. It was then that you could finally grasp what just happened.

“It was so…” You clenched your tiny fists before you jumped and punched the air. “SO AWESOME! That was the first time I’ve seen a real spirit! Not quite like I imagined, and I wasn’t prepared to see a naked boy like that but wow, they really do exist!” And as you continued jumping happily on your feet, shouting, “Amazing! Amazing! So amazing!” Taeyong muttered, “So what did you think I was?” And without waiting for you to calm down, he walked again with his hands tucked neatly inside his pockets.

You eventually followed him with your usual lively grin. “Are you a no-face or something? Why are you wearing that mask?”

“No particular reason,” Taeyong answered, making you frown. Perhaps he hadn’t trusted you that much? “Never mind me. Tell me about yourself.”

Your eyes twinkled; your grin turned mischievous. “Are you curious?”

A pause, then, “That’s why I waited for you.”

You couldn’t suppress your laughter. He was waiting for you, after all.

So you told him about yourself, from the most important things to the littlest nonsenses that went through your mind. Taeyong listened to your words in silence, no comment, no reaction, not even giving the slightest hum. And since he was always wearing that cat mask on his face, there was no way of telling how he felt when he listened to your stories. Did he even pay any attention to you? Was he bored? Was it entertaining for him? Taeyong was a mystery you didn’t know how to solve.

The next day and the day after that, you went back to the forest again and again. You kept running and playing all around the mountain, just together with the boy who was probably, at least, twice your age. You managed to break through the walls he built around you, little by little. His quiet, reserved demeanor gradually turned into something warmer, though not as lively or chaotic as you were. He began to tell you his favorite spots in the forest; crafted little ships from long leaves so you could watch them float along the river streams; and grabbed your sun hat when it got blown away by the wind before they got caught between the branches of a willow tree. 

You even got Taeyong to play tag with you. You would run away from him, and he would chase after you with a twig on his hand so he didn’t have to touch you directly when he said, “Tag, you’re it!” Taeyong’s favorite trick was pretending to fall on the ground and waited for you to come back with a worried face. You always did, but Taeyong still wouldn’t be able to catch you even after you fell for his trap because you were always much faster.

These mundane things you shared were special to both you and him. And even though they would most likely dissipate from your memories as you grow older, at that time you felt infinite.

***

One day, you were humming to yourself as you were busy collecting little flowers from the field while Taeyong was lying down on the grass with his mask-covered face facing the clouds. The sun was hot but the wind was nice. At the end of the day, it was comforting.

With a handmade bouquet between your tiny palms, you rose to your feet and ran to Taeyong’s spot, only to found the boy resting there with one hand lying idly on his stomach. You kneeled next to his head, facing him upside down. “Taeyong…” you murmured to yourself, gazing at his cat mask. “Did he fall asleep?”

Slowly, out of curiosity, you reached out a hand. You hesitated, but it would be okay if you only touched his mask, wouldn’t it? Swallowing hard, you decided to take your chance.

How does he look underneath that mask?

You placed your tiny palms on each side of his mask, and slowly, carefully, lifted it off his face. Your heart was racing, as if you were doing something sinful your heart forbid you to. You pulled it higher, and higher, until you could see his face, and for that moment, the time seemed to stop.

Despite his height, Taeyong had a young baby face with long eyelashes brushing the top of his cheeks. His eyes were closed and he looked so blissful, like a baby falling asleep in his mother’s arms. His skin was soft, flawless, but pale—almost transparent as the sun shone its light upon it. His nose was cute. He had curvy, thin lips, with two tiny moles faintly painting his lower one. His jawlines were sharper than Haechan’s, making him look mature, and the more you observed his features, the more you thought that, oh, he was indeed a boy.

A beautiful, beautiful boy.

You thought that Taeyong was unfair to hide such beauty from the world; to only let the world witness malice while he kept such purity inside the forest. 

How young… How innocent…

Then Taeyong suddenly smirked and before you knew it, a pair of deep, dark brown eyes were staring back at you.

“Ah! SORRY!” You exclaimed, startled to the point that all your breath left your lungs at once. Panicking, you unintentionally slammed the mask down onto his face harder than you intended to.

Taeyong hissed in pain, holding his face over the mask, and turned to his side. “Attacking someone while they’re asleep like this,” he said, eventually moved up and sat down cross-legged on the grass. “You surely are a scary little lady.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” You looked away, muttering quietly. “You were pretending to sleep anyway, weren’t you?”

Taeyong paused for a second before he propped his elbow on his thigh and laid his chin on his palm. Somehow, you felt like he was smiling behind that mask. “I looked normal, didn’t I?” he asked, a bit playfully. This time, it was you who just sat quietly and stared back at him without a word.

“Taeyong… Why are you wearing that mask?”

He straightened up, voice sounding unusually soft when he spoke. “If I don’t wear this mask, I don’t look like a spirit, do I?” Surely with that mask on, Taeyong seemed less human. After all, that mask was designed after the Cat Spirit that was retold from time to time. But why? Why did he have to go that far? Was he scared that people would mistake him for a human and grabbed him accidentally without purpose?

You just sat in silence. Somehow, your chest tightened, as if you were drowning little by little. It was heartbreaking to know that Taeyong seemed like he didn’t have a choice. Maybe he wanted to throw that mask away. Maybe he wanted to be human—or at least, look like one. Maybe he wanted to be connected. To truly be alive. But then that would mean he had to risk everything…

And knowing how even days had passed by, you hadn’t seen anyone getting along with him other than you, Taeyong had probably never set a foot outside the forest either.

Is that why he seems so…

Lonely?

“You’re weird,” you said and you ended the topic just like that. Because if Taeyong didn’t want to tell, then you wouldn’t want to force the words out of his mouth.

Taeyong only chuckled.

***

“Taeyong.”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think…” You stared sadly at your feet as you climbed down the stone steps that lead you back to the entrance gate. “I don’t think I can go back here tomorrow.”

Taeyong didn’t utter a word. Like usual, he just walked in front of you with his hands in his pockets and his mask pressed tightly against his face.

“I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” You continued. “That I’m just staying at my uncle’s place for the summer? So, I have to go home tomorrow…”

Taeyong just hummed once, to let you know that he was listening but did not intend to form a reply. You brought your head down, feeling disappointed. But why were you disappointed? You never felt like this when you said goodbye to your other friends before.

Taeyong stopped dead on his tracks. “Will you…” he said, turning his body slightly to face you but not quite. “Will you be able to come again next year?”

You stood still, your lips trembled slightly as if you were about to explode into words. Before you knew it, you felt your eyes grew a bit teary but you blinked your tears away before they fell and with a huge smile on your face, you merrily replied, “Yeah!” You had never felt so relieved.

And that was how summer became something you always looked forward to.

***

Every year, you came back and Taeyong always waited for your promised summer. You would find him sitting near the gate, on the stone stairs with his white cat mask placed upon his face. The two of you usually just did the same routines, lying lazily on the field of grass, eating ice creams as you crossed the wooden bridge, or throwing pebbles while dipping your bare feet into the water of the lake that was as clear as the sky.

“So cold!” You were turning eight that year, shouting as you plunged your bare feet into the water. Taeyong only let out a flat comment, “You’re weird. Of course the water is cold.” And although he sounded bored, you could tell that he was probably smiling behind his mask. After all, he could have just stayed silent about it, and yet he said something just to pull a reaction from you. You adored that part of him where he acted like he was fine being alone when in reality, there was nothing he craved more than someone’s attention.

Sometimes, when you walked too close to each other, a Spirit would show up in some form to revive the forgotten space between you. A lady wearing a snow-like kimono with flaming red hair once grabbed the side of his cheek and said with a pair of agonizing eyes, “Please be careful, Taeyong. We don’t want to lose you.” 

A willow tree caressed his hair with its branch, pulling him by the neckline so he would distance himself away from you. The way its thick branch was shaped into a beast’s claw, clutching at Taeyong’s entire body was almost frightening, but there was only tenderness laced with concern when it spoke, “It’s dangerous, Taeyong. That’s a human child. If she touches you, you’ll disappear.”

“Thank you,” Taeyong always said, placing a reassuring hand on the tree’s claw. “I’m fine.” He sounded so sincere and absolute, leaving the Spirit Tree with no choice but to retract its claw from him.

“Please don’t touch him, human child,” the Spirit Tree said once again before it went back to its slumber. You could only answer, “Yes,” but to you, it was more than a promise. After all, you wouldn’t want Taeyong to disappear.

You couldn’t help but notice that other Spirits could touch him normally. You tried to put aside how your heart jerked with jealousy. You wouldn’t let your selfishness be the end of him.

Haechan was the one who showed up the most, appearing in his animal form to bite the end of your skirt and pulled you away from the other boy. He persistently yelled at you how your entire existence was a threat to him, making you realize that you were a weapon, designed by God to annihilate him and yet, Taeyong still waited for your visit every year. How could someone dare to take a risk like that? 

Were you really worth all the trouble?

***

Every year, you waited for the summer to come. And before you knew it, you were already a ten-year-old girl. You grew taller, but your hair was still cut short with choppy bangs. Though you grew older, it didn’t mean your childish personality was wiped away.

“Hey,” Taeyong called, searching for you who were hiding somewhere in your sky blue summer dress through the holes of his cat-mask. “It’s dangerous to wander alone in the forest! Where are you—”

“SURPRISEEEED!” You shouted, dangling upside down from a tree branch with your legs circling it. Taeyong yelped, taking a step back in surprise from your sudden appearance. You were enjoying the moment, but before you could laugh about it, the end of your dress couldn’t fight the gravity so it fell covering your face. Your white panties were shown clearly for Taeyong’s eyes to see. “OH NO!” You quickly attempted to pull your dress back up and eventually, shifted your weight so you ended up sitting on the branch.

“What are you doing exactly?” Taeyong asked, not because you looked dumb but because he was genuinely interested in knowing. He always seemed to find your existence somewhat amusing.

You chuckled lightly. “I wanted to see your startled face but…” You forgot he was wearing his mask all the time so that was ultimately pointless. Taeyong just stared back, waiting because you looked like you wanted to say more. “You know, Taeyong… Can you at least take your mask off when I’m around? Once in a while is okay, right?”

Taeyong let a second pass. “Well, it’s fine but…” He placed his fingers at the end of his mask and slowly began to lift it off his face. “Is there a particular reason why?”

You observed him with anticipation. “Well, not really, but—” A cracking sound could be heard as the branch wasn’t strong enough to handle your weight, and with a shriek, you found yourself falling.

Calling your name, Taeyong ran towards you in reflex, arms out and ready to catch you. In a split second, as you fought to defy gravity, you could see his hands desperately trying to save you. Aside from the fear of falling, all you could think about was—

No.

Please, don’t.

Don’t touch me.

If you touch me, you’ll—

You fell head first on small bushes that were soft and safe enough for you to land on. You had landed on the ground before Taeyong could reach you and although you felt like you probably twisted your shoulder a little, you were more than fine.

“That was close…” Taeyong breathed out, his hands still hanging stiffly in the air.

“Y-yeah…” You felt slightly lightheaded as adrenaline faded away from your veins. You were in haze, body reclining against the bushes, grateful to be able to come unscathed. 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong murmured, but from not being able to be there on time to catch you or because he had retracted his hands back in reflex when he nearly touched your skin, you weren’t sure. “Are you okay?”

You exchanged stares, letting a few seconds pass by in silence before you finally let out a weak chuckle. “Thank goodness.” When Taeyong asked you what you meant, you softly added, “No matter what happened, Taeyong, don’t ever touch me, okay?”

His lips were tightly shut as he approached your spot, but the gesture he made with his hands seemed like he wanted to comfort you. Why would he want to comfort me, you thought but soon enough, you found the answer.

Because when you spoke again, your words are tainted with your tears.

“Did you hear me?” You forced yourself to smile but once the first tear broke, the rest of them were unstoppable. You cried again, and again, and again, until your whole body trembled, chest suffocating. You tried to laugh it off, shakily saying, “No matter what, okay?” but the more you tried to pretend that it didn’t faze you when you almost erased his entire existence over your negligence, you sobbed even harder.

You finally understood why the Spirits didn’t want you to be close to him. It wasn’t because they didn’t trust you. It was because Taeyong was just too kind. Even if it meant he would be wiped off the earth, he wouldn’t mind as long as you were safe. The way he had run toward you with his arms reaching out to you was a proof of that. The Spirits probably thought that Taeyong would be obliterated someday not because you touched him, but because he tried to save you when something like this happened again.

No. I can’t afford that.

No matter what, please don’t touch me.

You didn’t want him to see this side of you. You didn’t want him to know that in a human world, sometimes pain could be so unbearable that all you could do was just fall to your knees and wish that someday you could stop crying and stand up again. 

This ugly side of humanity… You didn’t want Taeyong to know…

But Taeyong never said a word.

***

The next summer and the summer after that, you continued to visit the forest to meet him.

“Taeyong! I’m here again this year!” You greeted, wearing your junior high school uniform with your skirt ending a few inches above your knees. Taeyong, dressed in the same way like he always did, was already there at the spot where he usually waited for you to arrive. “Ta-daa!” You twirled once for him, making your skirt flutter and your longer hair sway above your neckline. “I’ve become a seventh-grader now!”

As always, you couldn’t tell what kind of expression he had behind that mask, but Taeyong was indeed staring at you for a few seconds. “Somehow…” he began saying, “You’re starting to look like a girl.”

“I am a girl,” you replied, unconsciously pouting and Taeyong laughed a little in response. Even the way he laughed felt like summer to you—radiant and hot enough to light a spark of fire to your chest. Standing up, he stuck his hands inside his pockets, and climbed up the stairs. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, then as you saw his figure, you began to realize. “Oh…”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” 

You just noticed that your ages were gradually getting closer. Unlike you, Taeyong didn’t age normally as any human would. Somehow, he aged much slower, maintaining his youth to stay perfectly the same from season to season. Your height was almost on the same par as Taeyong’s shoulders now. As the years went by, your appearance began to change, but Taeyong almost looked the same as the day you first met.

If this keeps on going… Maybe…

You stopped walking when you realized Taeyong wasn’t walking beside you anymore. You looked back, facing the sun that was setting behind the hill and the boy who stood with his face lifted to perceive the sky. There was a butterfly on Taeyong’s mask, just right on the cat’s nose and slowly, he began to take it off. Underneath the shadow of the mask, Taeyong was smiling, softly, gently, and he eventually brought his mask down to stare at the butterflies that flew through the branches of the trees.

He closed his eyes.

From where you were standing, Taeyong merely appeared like a silhouette but in your eyes, he was a painting worth being praised. A beautiful portrayal of a man who only knew bliss in his life with a pure smile that even God wouldn’t be able to resist its beauty.

It was probably the day when you realized the reason behind the ache in your chest.

Someday, I will be older than him, won’t I?

You didn’t know what would be more dreadful to face: Taeyong leaving you over an accidental touch, or you leaving Taeyong because of old age. After all, time is cruel. Time is responsible for the summers that come and go, for the leaves in autumn that shrivel, for the long and cold winters that made your teeth jittery. It’s amazing how you can fall asleep by listening to the sound of the rain and when you wake up, the sun is blazing once again and the roads are dry. It would be as if it never rained.

What if I become like that? You questioned yourself. What if for Taeyong, I’m just nothing more than a fleeting summer day?

With the two of you being bound by the chains of time, you knew that there would come a day where time would become your enemy.

You buried your thoughts deep inside your mind, and promised him, “I’ll come back here again tomorrow, okay?”

Taeyong opened his eyes, gazing back at you, and smiled that one breathtakingly beautiful smile. “Then I’ll be waiting as always.”

***

“Before our summer vacation started, a boy in my class asked me out,” you said, now fourteen, as you hugged your knees to your chest, making sure that your sky blue sleeveless summer dress was not showing the polkadot panties you wore underneath. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Taeyong didn’t respond, wasn’t sure how to. He just stared at you—blankly, by the look of his cat mask, and you curled your toes in the uncomfortable silence.

“Say something, will you?” you mumbled after a while, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Well, that—” You opened your mouth but then nothing came out. What did that mean exactly? ‘To go out’? “Well, I mean, I think he wants me to date him… or something,” you finished terribly.

Taeyong hummed, lying down on the grass and folding his hands underneath his head to use them as his pillow. The leaves of the trees above him were doing a great job in providing the shades he needed. “Date, huh?”

There was something annoying about how Taeyong behave so nonchalantly like this, as if you were conversing about what you had for breakfast. But you noticed that it was weird of you to feel that way. Did you even have the right to be upset?

“What do you suppose they do?” Taeyong suddenly asked, snapping you out of your reverie.

“They?”

“People who are dating,” he explained further, his hands now moving to lay on his sides. “What do you think they do?”

You thought about it, looking up at the pillowy white clouds and feeling the wind that caressed your strands. “I don’t know,” you answered, throwing yourself to the grass again, next to Taeyong but remembering to put a safe distance between you. “Maybe go somewhere together, hold hands and stuff?”

Taeyong fell into another silence.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on the small gap between your pinky finger and his. You almost moved your hand closer, just a little bit, but then he lifted his arm and you nearly yelped in shock.

Taeyong took off his mask and placed it over his chest. His hand was now nowhere close to your smaller one. He had his eyes closed and from where you were lying on his side, you could see how long his eyelashes were, how they fluttered against his cheeks. Taeyong still looked so young, like a pure little boy with no idea how to sin, and perhaps that was because he never stepped a foot outside the forest. You envied his naivety but you also questioned how he truly felt for living a life monotonously like that. Even though he had Haechan and the rest of his Spirit friends here, was it really better for him to have no contact with humans?

Because sometimes… Taeyong looked so lonely.

The boy parted his lips. “Do you think they would kiss?”

If you had been drinking, you would’ve sprayed all of it on Taeyong’s face. “What?!”

“Those couples,” Taeyong elucidated, as if you were asking because you didn’t understand, when in reality you were just utterly embarrassed by it. “Do you think they kiss a lot?”

“What—” You almost bit your tongue. “Who even told you this stuff?! I thought you were supposed to live inside the forest!”

“I do, but it doesn’t mean I’m raised like Tarzan, you know.”

He even knows Tarzan! You wanted to scream. “Let me guess, Haechan?”

“Yeah.”

That perverted little fox! Of course he told him this stuff! 

“Yeah, well, I think they do,” you sighed, lying down on the grass again with another huff. “I remember having this conversation with a friend. See, she has a boyfriend, and she told me that they were kissing the other day. I, just like now, didn’t know what to say.”

“You never kissed anyone before?”

Your face was aflame and it had nothing to do with the sun. “N-no…” Of course not! If I had done it, then—

“Why not?” Taeyong asked, staring at you with genuine curiosity. You promptly looked away, ignoring the question.

Because then you’d disappear, you idiot. But how could you tell Taeyong that? You didn't even know why you wanted to kiss him. When exactly did you start wanting it? When did you start looking at him differently?

“I just…” You absentmindedly played with the tip of the grass underneath your fingers. “���haven’t found the right person yet.” Actually, I have, but if I touch him, he’ll disappear so… “And there’s a difference, you know, between kissing someone because they’re attractive and kissing someone because, umm, w-words can no longer express the intense feelings you have for them.” You clear your throat, feeling a bit nauseous all of a sudden. “Even if I did go out with him, I can’t just kiss him because he’s cute. It’s not right.”

Taeyong’s eyes were following the clouds, which were somehow changing shapes from one to another. “A kiss, huh…” he mumbled, reaching out a hand toward the sky and spread his fingers widely as if he was about to seize the sun. “I wonder if humans are as warm as this.”

“As the sun?” You asked, laughing quietly. “I certainly hope not. That’d be scary.”

Taeyong only smiled, slowly averting his eyes to lock them with yours. But you’re already burning as bright though…

“What?” You asked when you saw him looking at you without saying anything. “Did Haechan draw something on my face again? I swear to God, it’s like I can’t even let my guard down for one sec—”

“Don’t kiss him,” Taeyong suddenly said, abruptly cutting the rest of your sentence short and leaving you gaping, loss for words. When silence came to fill the space, he tried to break through the tension. “I mean…” He scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Well, it’s your choice, but…”

Your heart warmed. “But…?”

Taeyong’s tongue laid heavy in his mouth and he quickly put his cat mask back on. “We’re too far inside the forest. We should be getting back now before it’s too late,” he sternly said, sitting up. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the gate.” And he stood up, placed his hands inside his pockets as always, and walked away without even waiting for you to get up.

You followed with a blissful smile breaking on your face.

“I won’t,” you said, loud enough for him to hear. “If you don’t want me to kiss him, I won’t.” Taeyong never said anything back.

But you noticed the way the tip of his ears went red.

***

Taeyong called your name. His voice, like always, sounded a little bit muffled from the mask. “Hey, I’m back. Too bad, I can’t find the—”

The sight of you in your favorite peach summer dress, sleeping soundly on the grass as if nothing could attack you at that moment, made him grow speechless. You had one arm lying down on your stomach, your lips were slightly parted  as you fell deep into slumber, and Taeyong could see your chest heaving up and down slowly every time you breathed.

“Goodness,” he muttered, sighing. “This is a forest, you know? Moreover, it’s the forest where Spirits live. What would you do if they attack you?” Not that Taeyong actually thought that would happen—except for Haechan. That devilish fox could be pretty childish when he got jealous. Taeyong wouldn’t be surprised if he found him biting the edge of your dress again.

But, of course, you didn’t hear him. You had always been a heavy sleeper, even a clap of thunder could barely wake you up.

Taeyong huffed once more before he sat down next to you, taking a glance at the beauty marks on your face, at your bangs that had grown longer since your first visit two months ago, and at the lovely shape of your mouth. The way your lips seemed so soft and rosy, sparked curiosity and something within him that he couldn’t properly name, as he didn’t quite understand the feeling just yet.

Pressing one palm to the grass to prop his weight, Taeyong took off his mask. His silvery-white hair fell covering his hooded eyes but the soft wind blew it away. He leaned over, almost hovering above you by the time he laid his other palm on the other side of your head. Releasing a shaky breath, he brought his face down to yours.

I’m… Towards you, I’ve been…

Close. So close. Taeyong could even count your eyelashes if he wanted. You were breathing softly, warm air flowing from your slightly parted lips. Taeyong wanted to seal them with his own.

“Taeyong?”

Taeyong blinked, freezing on the spot. You were awake, staring at him with your eyes still slightly red from sleep. “Taeyong, what are you doing…?”

Taeyong only stared at you, eyes to eyes with such close proximity. He could tell how nervous you were, no matter how hard you tried to keep your face composed.

“I couldn’t find the flower you wanted,” he said, with a voice so calm as if he was speaking in a safe distance. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s…” You swallowed, still locking your gaze together although your heart was screaming like a beating drum. “It’s all right…”

Taeyong spent another two seconds being in that position before he finally pulled away, just to press his mask to your face. You let out an ‘oof’ sound of surprise but you didn’t take it off. You just laid there, completely still, with his mask covering your face. It smelled just like him—the dry air of summer, with a hidden scent of fresh green grass and sunray.

“Your face’s red,” Taeyong said. “Go back to sleep.”

You wondered whether the sun managed to bite through your skin and warm your face like this. But how would that explain your racing heartbeat?

“Okay…” you murmured and the sounds of birds chirping suddenly became louder as you both fell mute, unsure of what to say.

Not far from there, a golden fox scrunched his nose in annoyance. With a small puff of smoke, Haechan returned to his human form.

“Is he an idiot?” Haechan growled in his human voice, sneaking around behind the bushes with no clothes on like usual. “What would he have done if she didn’t wake up? Did he want to die?! I should’ve knocked some sense into his head! Stupid Taeyongie!” But despite the venom in his words, Haechan could only look away and do nothing. After all…

Taeyong had looked so happy.

There was only this little smile displayed on his lips, yet somehow he looked more alive than Haechan had ever seen him before. It was the first time Haechan ever witnessed that kind of expression on him.

Haechan gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. “That idiot,” he said again, grumbling but instead of running back and throwing a fist at the other man, Haechan kept walking away and bit his lower lip until it grew white. Stop looking that happy. You know how this would end, don’t you? She can’t give you the happy ending you want. 

Don’t start something that will only hurt you, Hyung…

***

On the last day of your eighth summer together, you bought Taeyong a scarf. When he asked the reason why, you simply explained with, “My uncle said the winter will be freezing this year, so be sure to wear it, okay?”

“I don’t get cold, though.”

“Just wear it.”

Taeyong hummed, taking a detailed look at the maroon knitted scarf in his hands. The cuts that appeared on your fingers when you tried to knit it three months earlier had disappeared, and just by seeing him holding it already made you feel like it worth every effort you’d given.

“Oh, and here.” You took a small music player from your summer dress’s pocket. It had earphones and batteries that would definitely last for at least a month if it was only used once a while. “I’ll give you this.”

“You’re giving me a lot of things today,” Taeyong commented. “And what’s this?”

“An mp3 player,” you said as you sat next to him on the stone stairs. “Here, I’ll show you how it works. First, you press here to turn it on, then you pick the song from the playlist.” You demonstrated every word and Taeyong stared intently at the mp3 screen from the holes of his mask. “I already put some songs in it. I’m not sure what kind of music you like, so I kind of put every genre I could find. You can skip it by pressing here if you hate the song.”

“How can I hate it when I can’t even hear it?” he innocently asked and you laughed.

“That’s why they invented these earphones, silly,” you giggled, and without waiting for his permission, you plugged in one earphone to his ear while you pressed the other one to your own. You moved a bit closer toward him and Taeyong fidgeted a bit from the distance. “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you,” you said and you wondered since when did it begin to hurt you so much when you said those words? “But be very still, okay?”

“Oh, it’s playing.” Taeyong was astonished when the song started playing in his ear. It was a piece from Beethoven, a sound of violin combined with piano and cello. You explained everything to him, from the instruments, to the harmony, to the genius composers in the music industry. It was all new to him. “And what’s that sound?”

“That’s the sound of timpani,” you explained and when you glanced to the side, you realized how close you were to him. One wrong move and you could hurt him. You needed to be extra careful. It was probably best to move away, Haechan would’ve certainly told you so but just for one more second…

Let me be this close to you for one more second before I go…

“Wait, don’t change the song,” Taeyong said, snatching you away from your thoughts. Your finger stopped moving around the playlist. “I want to hear this one to the end.”

You grew quiet. There were over a hundred songs you had put into the music player and out of all of them, Taeyong had to choose this song. This one song that took you an entire night contemplating whether you should put it inside the device or not.

“This is the sound of a violin, right?” Taeyong asked, looking serious because of his mask but you dared to think that he was smiling underneath it. “It’s nice. It’s not as rich as the other piece that had timpani in it, but… It’s beautiful. I like this one.”

You stood up abruptly, your earphone detaching itself from your ear. “I—I have to go. It’s getting late.”

“Huh?” Taeyong was a bit startled. “Oh. Yeah…”

You stepped forward, not looking back at him or waved him goodbye like usual. Instead, you rushed forward with your head hanging low.

To think that he would like your song.

To think that he would say that your violin playing was nice.

To think that he would prefer your song better than any other ones there.

“Hey,” Taeyong called, and you froze before you slowly peered back at him. If he could see the blush on your cheeks and ask about it, you would lie and say that the lights were playing tricks on him.

“Thanks for these,” Taeyong said and the boy had taken off his mask. With that warm smile that almost matched the warmth of the sun drowning behind him, he waved his hand goodbye. “Until we meet next summer.”

***

“Why doesn’t he wear clothes?” You exasperatedly asked one day, in the middle of a blazing summer. It was your ninth summer together. You were fifteen-years-old, and Taeyong… Well, you never actually knew what his real age was but he still looked like he was around eighteen as always.

“Who, Haechan?” Taeyong asked, and the little golden fox lounging on his lap perked his ears at the question. Taeyong smiled a little and you, once again, whispered gratitude toward whatever it was that made him take off his mask that day. The boy placed his palm on the Fox’s head and stroke its fur. Haechan purred and leaned into the touch, his tails swaying happily behind him. “Haechan doesn’t like human clothes. He said they’re uncomfortable.”

“Well, I’m uncomfortable seeing a grown man walking around naked and clinging to you like a possessive girlfriend—” Your sentence shortly ended with a shriek when a cloud of smoke exploded around you and you knew perfectly well what caused it.

“I’m not his girlfriend, you ugly monkey, but Taeyong-Hyung is mine!” Haechan, already standing in all of his naked glorious human form, shouted as he hugged him from behind, having one arm around Taeyong’s neck, and his chin being annoyingly close to the other boy’s shoulder. “And I’m not clingy because I want to. He’s just warmer than any other Spirits here and I happen to like warmth.”

“It’s summer.” You squinted your eyes menacingly, sounding remarkably irritated but still trying your best to hide the flustered look on your face because no matter annoying Haechan was, he was still a fully naked boy. “It’s like forty degrees out here, how much hotter do you want?”

Haechan actually had the knack to ignore you with a “Hmph!” while puffing out his cheeks and nuzzled his head against Taeyong’s palm. “You don’t find me annoying, do you, Taeyongie?”

Taeyong smiled and patted his head. “I’m already used to you being like this.” Haechan’s golden tail wagged excitedly in delight. “But you should put some clothes on, Haechannie. You’re making her feel uneasy.”

“I don’t care about that monkey girl!”

“What did you say, you stupid fox?!”

Both you and Haechan gritted your teeth, facing one on one in a glaring battle before your head nearly burst from being unable to contain the shame. Haechan was so naked, you couldn’t handle staring at him for a second longer than that. Haechan was cackling proudly for achieving victory.

“That’s not nice,” Taeyong scolded and Haechan only huffed, curling on the ground and laying his head on Taeyong’s lap.

“Of course,” Haechan grumbled quietly, plump lips turning into a pout. “Why should I be nice to a girl who can make you disappear anytime she wants? That’s ridiculous.”

You froze, heart dropping to your stomach, before you hugged your knees to your chest and half-buried your face in them. Taeyong was glancing at you for a second before he brought his eyes back to the boy on his lap and pinched Haechan’s nose.

“Hey, ouch!” Haechan batted his hand away, snarling. “What the hell was that for?!”

Taeyong didn’t utter a word but there was something… Some kind of tension that made Haechan pout angrily and mutter harshly in your direction. “Well, I’m sorry, okay?” Haechan heaved the loudest sigh. His ears went down dejectedly as he laid on his side. Taeyong’s hand had stopped long from stroking his golden hair. “I know you don’t mean any harm to Taeyong-hyung, but… I mean, I… I…”

You waited in silence as Haechan tried to form his words. He looked rather cute, trying desperately to draw the right sentence to apologize when he would pretty much prefer dying instead of doing so. Eventually, Haechan sat up, pointing rudely at you with his finger, and shouted, “All right, fine! You’re allowed to stay with my Taeyongie for now, but if you pull some kind of trick like trying to kiss him in his sleep again, I won’t forgive you, OKAY?!”

Both you and Taeyong jolted, hearts thumping loudly behind your ribcages.

He was watching?! But wait, Taeyong thought, he said she was trying to kiss me. So he wasn’t watching me when I tried to kiss her. But when did she…

Taeyong turned his head toward you at the same time you were averting your gaze from Haechan’s to his. Both of you blushed and immediately brought your eyes away.

“I—I should go.” You abruptly stood up, your knees wobbling under your weight. This is so embarrassing, I could die! “I’ll c-come back tomorrow, okay?”

“Huh?” Taeyong was not being himself, losing his composure. “Yeah, s-sure. I’ll—”

But you had already walked away from your spot, mentally slapping yourself in the face because oh God, no, now he knows. What should I do? How can I face him now?

“What’s up with that girl?” Haechan asked, raising an eyebrow as he draped his bare arms all over Taeyong’s body again. “I know she’s weird, but that was too weird, right?”

“Haechannie.”

Taeyong’s voice startled him a bit. “Y-yeah?”

“When you said…” Taeyong swallowed, the thought of him trying to kiss you in your sleep started to overwhelm him once more. Did she really do the same thing to me? When? “What you said before… Was it true? Did she really try to kiss me?”

It was saddening for him that Taeyong was paying more attention to you than to him again. Ever since you came into his life, all Taeyong could ever talk about was you. You were the reason behind his smiles, when it was used to be Haechan who brought warmth to Taeyong’s cold demeanor. “Well,” Haechan sighed in defeat. “To tell you the truth…”

With a dandelion flower tucked between his fox teeth, Haechan ran with all of his power to where Taeyong was. He moved his four legs as fast as he could, his golden tail swinging behind him. Being a small fox had its perks. He could easily jump from one tree to another, he could slip through narrow spaces, and Taeyong once said that he had soft fur that was nice to touch. Haechan truly adored that boy so as a token of his gratitude; he wanted to give him a dandelion flower—one that Taeyong loved the most.

Taeyongie! Taeyongie! I want to meet him! I want to give this to him!

So he ran faster, and faster, looking for him until Haechan saw his figure sitting next to a tree with his spine pressed against the thick trunk. From where he was, Haechan could only see his back.

Ah, there he is! Taeyongie!

He ran faster, crossing the field of grass to get to that spot, but only to find Taeyong sleeping with his bangs covering his eyes and his mask tossed to his side. Then there was you—the girl who always hung around him—kneeling in front of him with… 

Haechan blinked. What kind of expression is that?

Your eyes were soft, your lips parted forming Taeyong’s name, and even from where Haechan was hiding behind the tree, he could tell that you were nervous. There was something different with the way you looked. Haechan usually saw you as an annoying, little clumsy girl who posed nothing but a threat to his dearest friend. But that day, he noticed how feminine you really were.

Has she… Haechan unconsciously thought, his heart racing a little. Has she always been that pretty?

“Please don’t wake up,” you whispered, your cheeks heating up. Then you leaned forward, pressing your palm to the grass next to his waist to prop your weight.

Wait! Haechan shouted in his head but he couldn’t will himself to move. Wait, what do you think you’re doing—

Then you closed your eyes and filled the spaces between you. Haechan wasn’t breathing at that moment. He couldn’t even think.

You were kissing Taeyong.

That girl! Haechan yelled in anger. If Taeyong disappears, I am going to kill—

“Hmm?” Taeyong’s voice came through his hearing. “Oh sorry, seems like I fell asleep. You came back already, huh?”

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling at him before you stood up. “I was just going to drop this for you and leave since I thought you were sleeping.” 

Haechan crawled a bit closer to take a look at what you were referring to. It was a handful of dandelion flowers—just like what he wanted to give him—with a white paper card laid upon them. 

The paper! Haechan realized. Of course! She was using that when she kissed him!

You took the small paper card and laughed. “I was going to write something like ‘Make a wish for me’ or something but you already woke up.”

When Haechan looked back at Taeyong, the boy was staring at you in the same way you’d looked at him before. Those soft, gentle eyes. That adoring gaze. That longing stare.

Taeyong stood up, taking the dandelions off his lap and offered them back to you. “Why don’t we make a wish together?” he asked, smiling so tenderly that even you got startled for a moment.

“Okay!” you chirped merrily and you walked next to each other as you blew the dandelions one by one.

“What did you wish for?”

“World peace,” you answered with a grin. “You?”

Taeyong sneaked a glance toward the small gap that separated your hands from one another. “An ice cream,” he said, smiling back. 

You tittered, oblivious about the actual thing he desired the most. “You’re so weird.”

Haechan watched from afar, hiding behind the shades of the tree before he eventually transformed into his human form, laid his back against the trunk and blew his own dandelion flower away. The seeds were swaying together with the wind, leaving him alone as Taeyong’s chatter began to wash away from his ears.

“Idiot,” Haechan muttered. “Stop being so obvious. You’re even making me embarrassed.”

“Haechannie?” Taeyong’s soft voice woke him from his reverie. Noticing how the boy hadn’t spoken for a while, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Haechan glared at him, shouting. “Nothing’s wrong! Just go die, you idiot!” Then he morphed back to his animal form, bit him in the nose and scurried off.

Taeyong hissed in pain, rubbing his nose. “Why is everybody leaving so suddenly today?” he sighed before throwing himself back to the ground, lying on the grass with the sun showering him with its light.

Ah, I want to see her again already.

***

Seasons changed and what was once warm air caressing your strands, had turned into soft snow prickling against your skin and coating your spine with shivers. You began to realize that the world became a little dull as you grew older. You stared at the glassy window in front of you with lifeless eyes, close enough to make the glass hazy with your warm breath. The school’s bell rang, indicating that your next class was about to begin but you kept standing still in the hallway, just staring at the cloudy weather.

A boy called your name—Mark Lee, you remembered well, from his big doe eyes and his messy raven hair. “Shouldn’t you be heading to the lab? Everyone already left.”

“Huh?” You blinked, still somewhat dazed until you noticed that Mark was already carrying his textbook, ready to move to the biology lab. “Ah, right!” You sputtered, turning on your heels to run toward your classroom but Mark caught you by the wrist.

“Here,” he said, giving you the note and the textbook you wanted to grab. “We’re going to be late, so I’ve brought your stuff with me. Let’s go.”

And if your thoughts weren’t so distraught, you would’ve noticed how Mark had been paying more attention to you than anybody else for the past few weeks.

But that was the problem. You had been having trouble focusing these days. Everything just seemed to pass by like a blur. During your next class, you didn’t pay any attention at all. It wasn’t like you were busy chatting or drawing random doodles on your note. You were just staring blankly at your textbook. Your eyes were half-lidded, your thoughts scattering all over the places.

At home, you hardly finished your dinner. Your mother scolded you as she thought her daughter was snacking before they shared sukiyaki at the dining table. You could only pout before you took your leave. You didn’t tell your mother that you had hardly eaten anything all day.

When the lights were off and you were settling down under your blanket in bed, you couldn’t sleep. You kept staring at your ceiling, part of your soul going somewhere else. Somewhere where it was warmer, brighter, with a stupid-looking cat mask in sight.

You eventually closed your eyes with the thought of gentle brown eyes staring at you behind silvery white strands.

Six more months left until I can see you again.

***

“Good morning.”

You exhaled from your mouth, creating visible puffs of air in the chilly weather. Your coat and scarf were clinging tightly to your body and yet you still felt cold. You never enjoyed the winter season. Or, any other seasons, for that matter.

“I said, good morning.”

You blinked. Your brain finally could process that someone had been calling you since a moment ago. “Oh,” you said, smiling politely. “Good morning, Mark.”

“Dozing off already?” Mark said, fixing the strap of his bag that was about to fall off his shoulder. “Isn’t it still too early for that?”

You could only laugh but even the sound of it felt empty to your ears.

“There’s frozen ice underneath your feet,” he warned, his voice sounded a bit muffled. Half of his face was covered with his checkered navy blue scarf. “Be careful.”

You stopped walking and noticed that you were indeed standing on asphalt-covered with black ice. It made a soft creaking sound when you tried to walk on it. It was too slippery.

“You’ll slip. It’s dangerous.” Mark took out his hand from the pocket of his brown duffle coat. “Come here,” he called, offering his hand. There were clouds of breath when he spoke.

Appalled, but only for a second, you then smiled gratefully. “Thank you.” You took his hand, but Mark was the one who held it tighter. He was warm and the texture of his palm was rough. You never knew that a boy’s hand could feel like this.

You were no longer walking on the frozen ice but Mark never let go of your hand. He just continued walking in front of you, dragging you gently by the hand. “It’s cold today, isn’t it?” he said and you wondered whether you should reply to a rhetorical question like that. You ended up saying nothing.

“Haven’t you been a little out of it lately?” Mark asked after the small awkward silence. “Actually, you’ve always been that way, but…” 

His grip around your hand wasn’t exactly too tight or too loose, and it somehow felt nice so you were confused. Why weren’t you affected by it? Why didn’t you feel anything at all? Some other students who were passing you were staring, and both you and Mark would probably need to get ready to clarify dating rumors the second you arrived at class but you felt nothing. Nothing at all, except…

Mark’s mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear him over the loudness of your thoughts.

I want to see Taeyong.

I want to touch him.

I want to feel his hand on mine.

I miss him.

But you still had six months left before summer came.

It didn’t use to be a problem. But at that particular moment, as Mark began to lace his fingers more comfortably around yours, you thought that it hurt. Not seeing Taeyong was more than painful.

It was suffocating.

***

“Is that your new uniform?” Taeyong asked, leaning his shoulder to the tree near the stone stairs where you usually met. That was his first line after nine months of separation. 

You timidly smiled, nodding with your fingers interlacing behind your back. You were wearing a white and dark blue uniform, indicating that you had become a high school student that year. You wore a hairpin to clip your bangs from falling over your face. Taeyong didn’t comment on it but he noticed how your hair had grown longer, and how he loved it now as much as he’d loved it then.

“Time really flies, doesn’t it?” Taeyong marveled, as you climbed up the stone stairs, walking to a deeper part of the forest. “You’re already in high school, huh?”

The cicadas were singing loud behind your backs. They always sang the loudest when it was hot. “Yup.”

You sat on the carpet of green grass near the pond. Pink lotuses were growing, blooming underneath the sun. Taeyong sat cross-legged, and you sat next to him with your legs folded carefully to guard your skirt against blowing because of the wind.

“You don’t come running at me anymore these days,” Taeyong chuckled “You were so clingy when you were a kid.”

“Of course not.” You scoffed. “I’ve learned my lesson after all the beatings you did.”

Taeyong stayed in silence so you eventually looked away and diverted your gaze toward the sky. “I’m really looking forward to it,” you said. “In three years, when I graduate, I plan on looking for a job here. Then, I can be with you more. In winter, in autumn, in spring… We’ll always be together.” Your voice became softer, just like the sheepish smile you displayed on your face. “Always, okay?”

Taeyong glanced back at you through the holes of his mask. You seemed so optimistic and bright; it was almost painful.

Because what were you doing exactly? You both knew this wouldn’t last. You weren’t supposed to be together. There was no way for you to be together without you hurting each other in the end.

It was just… Impossible…

When Taeyong called your name, his voice had lost its cheeriness. “Let me tell you about myself.”

You blinked. “Eh?”

“I’m not a spirit,” Taeyong said, sitting up better on the ground. “But I’m also no longer human. It seems like I was once a human, but when I was a baby, I was abandoned in this forest.”

Taeyong could no longer recall the memory back when he was a baby, being left all alone in a wooden basket in the middle of a haunted forest. “I’d only just been abandoned, so I cried helplessly, as if to call back the parents who left me.”

But Taeyong’s tone was no longer painted with agony. You wondered how many years had truly passed since the day he was abandoned for him to feel nothing when he spoke about it.

“They said I didn’t stop crying for a long time,” Taeyong said, and you noticed that he must have been talking about the Spirits. “It was until they placed this cat mask on my face that I began to laugh. I should’ve died then, but the Mountain God appeared and cast a spell that allowed me to continue living so that I never move on.”

Taeyong never once looked at you when he retold his story. “I’m like a ghost,” he said, and finally turned his mask-covered face toward you. “So, it’s okay if you forget about me.” You couldn’t find anything to say. Your mind was busy processing all the information you'd just received. “A body that’s maintained by magic is very weak,” Taeyong continued nonetheless as he stared at his own palm. “If it touches a real human body, the spell will break and the body will disappear. It’s such a fragile thing…” There was an obvious pain in his voice now. “Just how long can you—”

“Something that disappears when touched,” you immediately said, not wanting to hear the question escaping his lips. “It’s just like snow, isn’t it?”

This time, it was Taeyong who went speechless.

“You know, Taeyong…” You embraced your knees to your chest, staring at the pond. The light cast its reflection on your face, which to Taeyong only added more sparks to your beauty. “I thought of you during winter. And fall… And spring… I thought of you all the time, so...” You locked their gazes together as you smiled. “Don’t forget about me, okay? Don’t forget. Time might separate us one day, but still, until then, let’s stay together.”

Taeyong never once discussed it again. He decided that you were worth it. He would allow himself to be selfish. Whether he would disappear from your touch, or whether you would pass away on your deathbed even when he was still in his twenties, no one could ever know. But if he could spend that time with you, no matter how short it would be, no matter how much it would hurt, he would endure the pain. If it meant that he would stay together with you, he would crush his own happy ending. Because you had decided to let yours go.

And there was no way he would let you go down that road on your own.

***

“A spirit festival?” You asked, as you sat next to each other near the lake with your feet dipped into the water. Now eighteen, you felt closer to him more than ever. You secretly wondered if someone saw you walking together side-by-side, would they think of you as a couple?

“No, a summer festival held by the spirits,” Taeyong corrected.

“There’s not much of a difference.”

“The nuance is completely different.”

“Nuance?”

“When you were little, I thought you might get scared so I didn’t invite you. But tonight,” Taeyong stopped to showcase his grin. “Can you sneak out of your house? I’ve wanted to go with you for a long time…”

As if you could decline that tempting offer. “I—I want to go!” You exclaimed, jumping up to both of your feet.

“Then meet me at eight at our usual place.”

“But when you think about it,” you muttered, hand propping your chin as you ran through your mind. “A festival filled with Spirits sounds a little unnerving. On top of that, it’s at night.”

Taeyong took off his mask and you could see the sincerity behind his brown eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said, smiling handsomely. “On the outside, it’s not very different from a human festival. It’s supposed to mimic human festivals after all.” And at that time, his smile turned a bit sheepish. “And I will protect you, so…”

You felt like something just lit a fire behind your chest. “W-when you say things like that,” you said, eyes glancing away from embarrassment, “it makes me want to jump at you.” You wanted it to be a joke. You both knew that there was no way you would touch him underneath your conscience.

“Then do it,” Taeyong, in all of his seriousness, said, “I’m serious.”

You could only look at him with conflicted feelings.

***

The summer festival that was held by the Spirits inside the forest was indeed similar to the ones in the living world. Lanterns were lit up, surrounding the place with orange-colored lights that seemed normal enough for your eyes. But when you took a closer look, the fireballs behind the paper lantern were actually dancing. Spirits were everywhere around the place and this time, they didn’t look like ghosts or monsters. They were all disguised as humans, even wearing yukatas and wooden sandals but with masks over their faces—just like Taeyong. Not every Spirit managed to do well with their disguises, though. You could still spot some children with pig noses and cat tails, and you could see Haechan’s fluffy golden tails and matching fox’s ears on his head as he waved a hand and ran toward Taeyong with all of his strength.

Taeyong was wearing a dark grey yukata with his usual cat mask placed on his face, and the Fox boy jumped into his arms, winding his long limbs so naturally around his neck.

“Taeyongie!” Haechan chirped as he nuzzled his nose against Taeyong’s neck, despite them being full-grown men. The other boy pushed him away with one palm.

“Y-you’re wearing clothes,” you stammered, gaping at the sight that Haechan wasn’t actually naked at that moment. Instead, the boy was wearing a white yukata with golden obi around his waist. It matched his blond hair and golden ears perfectly.

Haechan groaned, “Oh man, don’t tell me that monkey girl is here with you to—” The rest of his words died on his tongue the second he checked your appearance. No longer wearing your summer dress, that night you were wrapped in a sky blue kimono with falling cherry blossoms painted around it. You had a salmon-colored obi around your waist, curving your body perfectly and you had your bangs clipped to the side, showing more of your face for them to admire. 

“Hmm?” you asked, tilting your head slightly when you noticed that Haechan was staring without saying a word. “What is it?”

“You…” Haechan gulped before he took a step back and pointed a finger at you. Taeyong could blatantly see the blush on his face but you never paid attention to anyone besides Taeyong. “You’re so ugly, you almost made me puke!” Haechan screamed.

“Excuse me?!” You shouted back and Taeyong laughed when Haechan turned into his animal form, sending a small kick to her face—it wasn’t as painful as it was surprising—before he ran away like a scared little rodent.

“Why are you laughing?” You pouted, rubbing your slightly bruised cheek from Haechan’s attack. “God, he must have hated me so much. What’s his problem? And is he leaving his clothes just like this?!”

Taeyong couldn’t understand why you were so oblivious of Haechan’s feelings. But if it meant he could stare at your adorable confused face longer then he wouldn’t say a word to explain.

“Hey,” Taeyong called, bringing out a thin white scarf from his sleeves. “Tie this around your wrist. You’ll get lost if you don’t.” You obeyed right away, even humming happily as you did it. Taeyong tied the other end around his wrist as well. With that, you were connected to each other.

“It’s just like going on a date,” you said, giggling. Taeyong had brought his mask to the side of his head, so most of his face was shown when he smiled beautifully.

“It is a date,” he said, successfully sending your heart thrumming wildly against your ribcages. When you weren’t as flushed, you mirrored his little smile, wishing for your heart to beat at a slower pace so you could focus more on his beautiful features instead. Taeyong was so close and so handsome; it felt almost surreal for you to witness. “Shall we go?”

You shortly nodded and let him lead the way, a thin white scarf bridging the small gap between you. It’s funny how you weren’t exactly holding hands, but it felt just the same way. Your heart was racing, your thoughts were filled with him, and your never-ending smile, brighter than all the lanterns combined, was the proof of the joy you shared with him.

It was perfect. He was perfect.

There were fireworks, music, and dances. Everything looked so fun. Taeyong bought you cotton candy, but when you tried to take a bite, it flew towards the sky, morphing into clouds between the shining stars. Every time you laughed, Taeyong was grateful to be able to witness the beauty of it. It was so easy for your happiness to be his.

You walked around, checking some food stalls from one place to another, with him trying to match his steps with yours without you knowing. You wanted to buy a mask as well, perhaps one that looked similar to Taeyong’s. When a mask finally caught your interest—a tanned person’s face with his eyes crossed, you touched it to try it on but it turned out that it was an actual Spirit’s face, not a mask. Flustered, you had no choice but to run away, shouting “I’M SO SORRY!” and forcing Taeyong to follow you with chuckles reverberating from his chest.

Taeyong laughed more frequently that night than he had been the entire summer and you loved it. You loved the way he laughed without care. It was like firewood in the cold, darkest night—warming, bright, and beautiful.

“Ah, I had so much fun!” You cheered, still laughing slightly as you walked away from the festival. It was getting late and knowing how your uncle must have been worried for your well-being, Taeyong took you home. “Everyone really went all out with their disguises, didn’t they?” Your voice echoed through the night. “It was like a mimicking competition. You weren’t kidding when you said it’s supposed to imitate human’s festival.” No wonder his uncle’s friend Hyori had managed to sneak inside back then. “Is it like this every year?”

“Yeah, every time summer comes around…” But Taeyong’s voice suddenly lost its liveliness. And as you walked further away from the festival, the forest became dark once more, with only the moon and the stars illuminating your faces.

When Taeyong called your name, it was a mix of a longing sigh and a hushed whisper. Little frogs and insects were making sounds in the background and you could hear your steps matching his as you stepped on the grass, near your usual private pond. “I can no longer wait for summer to come around,” he softly murmured.

You turned your head toward him, glancing at the face of the boy you’d spent your entire summer with. Taeyong was wearing his mask again, and you wished he didn’t. You wanted to see his expression when he said those words.

“When I’m away from you,” Taeyong confessed, “even though I can’t be around the crowds, I want to go see you. Even though I knew it would’ve killed me, I was ready to step a foot outside this forest and run to you. Nine months are too long for me to wait for you.”

You almost reached out a hand to touch his, but you stopped before you got your wish. Instead, you sank your fingernails to your palm, hard enough to tear your skin apart so you could focus on the pain on your skin instead of the one in your chest.

Why does he have to be so close and yet so far away?

Then Taeyong suddenly stopped walking, lifting one hand to take off his mask and pressed it to your face. Before you could understand what was happening, Taeyong bent his head down and kissed the other side of the mask, right where your lips would be if there were no barriers between you. The thin mask was the only thing separating your lips from touching one another.

You froze, seeing Taeyong’s close-up face from the holes of the mask. As you’d guessed, Taeyong had long eyelashes. And he was so beautiful, so gentle, so young but with the expression of a man who spent hundreds of years in silence, yearning for other people’s touch.

Taeyong wasn’t really kissing you and yet, you still couldn’t breathe.

He pulled away after a few seconds had passed; smiling at you in the way it was almost breaking you apart but not quite.

Why does this feel like a goodbye?

“That mask,” he said, gazing straight at you. His smile never faltered from his lips, which only broke your heart even more. “You can have it.” And with him taking another step forward, you began to walk side by side again without uttering any other words.

He probably won’t come back to the place where we usually meet next summer. You pondered, hiding your face behind his mask. This is definitely our last…

“Hey, wait for me!” Two children passed by, running with their little feet and roaring into the night. The first boy managed to get a few steps ahead and his little sister was trying to catch up to him but she fumbled and slipped on her feet.

“Careful!” Taeyong shouted in reflex and reached out a hand to help her. With a hold around her wrist, he managed to prevent her from falling. The little girl smiled, showcasing her teeth and thanked him before she ran away chasing her brother again.

“Be careful, you guys!” You said and the two children waved their hands at you. You chuckled to yourself. I wonder if I was like that when I was a—

Taeyong’s sudden call of your name made you jolt. You hastily turned around, hoping to see him smile from the holes of the mask you had on your face, but instead what you saw was something more.

It was your nightmare.

Taeyong had his hand—the one he used to touch the little girl—stretched out in the air, staring at it with parted lips and wide eyes as his fingertips started to glow and slowly disappearing into thin air like fireflies vanishing in the night.

“Ta…” Your throat, your chest, it felt like fire was consuming every inch of you. “Taeyong..?”

You couldn’t believe what was happening. You wished you were dreaming. You prayed for it to be a dream. But Taeyong was really there, disappearing little by little in front of you and you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t live without him in your life. How could just one touch of a hand do something like this?

“That girl was a human?!” You panicked, head throbbing loudly but the pain didn’t even come close to the aching you felt in your heart. What should I do? What should I do now?! I can’t lose him—I don’t want to lose him—

Taeyong!

The glow started to spread to his wrist, passing his elbow, to his chest and you wanted to scream stop! Don’t take him away from me! Please, stop! But Taeyong was smiling, so widely and beautifully and this time there was no trace of loneliness or secrets he tried to keep to himself like his usual smile. This time, he really did smile with all of his heart.

“Come here!” He called your name between his smiles, throwing his arms out for you to jump into. “I can finally touch you now.”

And you didn’t let a second to waste. You pushed the mask away from your face, facing him with a smile because that was what he deserved and then you hugged him, embraced him tightly with all of your strength, and you never wanted to let go. Taeyong looked so happy so you held your tears to yourself, no matter how much they burned behind your eyelids, and when Taeyong lifted your face and pressed a kiss to your lips, you curled your fingers on the back of his yukata.

Taeyong was so warm. And soft. And…

Gone.

You fell to your knees with his yukata held tightly against your chest. Your shoulders shuddered. Your chest felt like a thousand ice blades striking you at the same time. The clothing still smelled like him and yet, Taeyong was nowhere to be seen. He was consumed by the fireflies’ light and now there was no trace of him left.

I love you, you heard him said just a split second before he vanished. Faintly. Lovingly. Awaking every memory of the summers you’d spent together. That twig of oak bridging the distance between you. Those flowers you picked from the fields for him. That time when he ran to save you from falling. How lonely he’d looked from time to time. And how lonely you were when he wasn’t around. When Taeyong wasn’t there to spread happiness to your life.

And now he’s gone…

“Me too,” you sobbed as you held onto the piece of fabric he left from his final moment as if you were hanging on a thread that separated life from death. “I love you too.”

I love you so much, Taeyong.

And you let yourself cry, just this once, just for tonight. You would cry your heart out, screaming his name, telling him how much you loved him, just for this time only. Taeyong was the source of your happiness. Not even his death should change that.

When there were no more tears to cry, you got back to your feet and the first step felt so heavy. It was easier to just be drowned in silence, never have to get up again, never have to see the light of day now that his light had been taken away. But Taeyong wouldn’t wish for that to happen. He wanted you to be happy, with or without him.

So you picked his mask off the ground and embraced it tightly to your chest. There were murmurs of the Spirits around you, thanking you for being with Taeyong until the last moment of his life. They said Taeyong could only truly smile when he was with you.

Haechan appeared in front of you, wearing his previous white yukata with golden obi around his waist. His fox’s ears were down and his tails were no longer wagging behind him like always. His eyes were red and puffy, though he wasn’t crying.

“Taeyong-hyung wanted nothing more but to feel a touch of a human,” he said when you’d lost your voice to speak. “Being hugged by you before he vanished like that… I guess he wouldn’t have preferred anything else.”

You weakly smiled and reached up to stroke Haechan’s hair. The Fox boy seemed somewhat startled but didn’t move away. “He must have been happy,” you said, smiling with tears brimming in your eyes, “to have someone like you paying so much attention to him.”

Haechan brought his head down and you could hear soft sobs as he began to break down once again. He was biting his lip until it grew white, just to muffle his whimpers. You told him that it was all right for him to cry as hard as he could. After all, it was only normal. The pain of being left by someone you love… Taeyong must have understood it well.

I probably won’t be able to look forward to summer for a long time.

My chest will hurt. 

My tears will be overflowing. 

But this warmth in my hands and these summer memories will live forever in my heart. 

I wouldn’t ask for anything more.

You smiled, kissing the temple of the mask and whispered, “Until we meet on the next life, Taeyong.”

***

It takes bravery to show up at the gate of the forest in your sleeveless white summer dress and you can feel your knees trembling underneath your weight but your resolve doesn’t dissipate. It’s been one year since Taeyong has vanished without a trace. Your heart still bleeds, but your tears are dry. And although it kills you to know that Taeyong is no longer there, waiting on the stone stairs like usual, you keep your smile intact, taking a seat close enough to the spot where Taeyong used to sit waiting for you.

“I’m here this year too, Taeyong,” you whispers, one hand being placed on the stone steps as if it was out for him to touch. “How are you?”

A soft wind blows, caressing your now longer hair and swiping warmth to your cheek. Lonely. You feel so alone. The cicadas are singing loudly as always but they don’t sound the same without the sound of Taeyong’s soft chuckles. You can no longer share stories with him, can no longer try to close the forbidden gap between you little by little. There’s nobody you can show your uniform to.

Don’t cry, you will yourself, hugging your knees tightly to your chest. Don’t cry. Taeyong wouldn’t want you to cry. You said you could do this, remember?

But it still hurts.

So you quickly open your bag and retract his cat mask from it. Placing it upon your face, you bask in what’s left of Taeyong’s scent as you close your eyes. This way, even if you end up crying, no one will see. If Taeyong is still here, or if he somehow stares down from heaven, he won’t be able to see you breaking apart.

“If you want to cry, just cry,” a boy suddenly sits down next to you, your shoulders brushing one another. “Idiot.”

You look to your side, feeling your breath stutter a little. “Haechan-ah…”

The Fox boy turns his head to face you as well but unlike Taeyong who greeted you with a gentle smile, Haechan was scowling. He has an apparent frown on his handsome human face, but although he is glaring, his nine tails betray him as they wag in elation behind him. “What are you staring at?” he says and flicks you on the forehead. It doesn’t hurt since he’s only grazing the mask, but it does make you move your gaze away.

Haechan still looks as young as always. His golden hair is still shining reflecting the sunlight, his ruby eyes are shimmering, and his sun-kissed skin still glows beautifully.

“You’re wearing clothes,” you comment, noticing the casual white shirt and the blue jeans he has on his body. He’s not wearing anything to protect his feet though.

“Of course, as if I would give you the reason to ogle at my perfect body,” Haechan spits back harshly and you don’t answer anything back. Eventually, it creates tension between you so he runs a hand through his hair and mutters, “Well, I mean… Taeyong told me it made you uncomfortable, so…” You still stay mute but for an entirely different reason.

“Thanks,” you finally say, your voice sounds a bit muffled because of the mask.

Haechan feels his face growing hot and he grits his teeth to wash it away. “You’re being gross, stop it,” he raves and yet his tail sways faster behind him as his ears perk up in joy. You can finally understand why Taeyong was fond of him. Despite his snarky attitude, Haechan is shy and he’s never honest when it comes to showing his feelings, but his body often betrays him. He has his own charm.

So you laugh—softly, quietly, unfamiliar to your own ears, but it’s a start. “I’m sorry.”

Haechan huffs and fixes his red eyes to the sky. The clouds are moving, changing shapes and he secretly wonders what would Taeyong say at times like this. “I thought you wouldn’t come this summer,” he murmurs.

“I thought I wouldn’t too,” you admit. “But I realized in the end, even though he’s gone, it doesn’t mean he can’t still live in my memory. I think when someone dies; it doesn’t really mean that they’re gone. The difference is that we can’t physically see them anymore, so as time goes by, we begin to forget. And once we forgot about them, then I guess that’s when someone truly dies.” You take off your mask, turn it around on your palm and stare at the cat’s two-round, lifeless eyes. “I can’t see Taeyong anymore but I won’t let him disappear from my thoughts. He’s now living in my memory and I will keep it that way. He’s already a part of me now—of who I have become.” Your lips curve up as you rub your thumb along the cat’s whiskers. “I’m sorry for saying such weird things. I must have bored you by now.”

But unbeknownst to you, Haechan is staring at you with admiration in his eyes. He never knew you had such a complex personality. 

Even though she’s a human. Even though she’s just a human.

“You know, for Spirits like us,” Haechan says, “Humans have always been nothing better than something to eat. It’s not worth having a relationship with them. You can’t befriend someone who will pass away in a blink of an eye. Spirits like us can live for hundreds of years. And you, people like you, can barely even reach a hundred. Becoming attached to something so fragile will only hurt us, that’s why we try to never look at humans as someone to be friends with. Just like humans in general, we’re afraid of getting hurt.”

Your eyebrows are knitted together, can barely understand why is Haechan telling you these things.

“I saw Taeyong-Hyung when he was with you,” Haechan utters, and this time he smiles at the memory of his friend. He looks much younger like this. “He was happy. Perhaps happier than I’d ever seen him. That’s probably why I decided not to eat you.”

“You wanted to eat me?”

“A few times, yeah.”

“Even though you were so startled when Taeyong suddenly sneezed and almost ran for your life like a little scaredy-cat?”

“That’s—” Haechan blushes madly. “That’s different!”

You place a hand over your mouth, covering your small laughter. “Okay, okay,” you said and Haechan feels a tweak in his heart again. Humans are such fragile beings, he wonders, maybe that’s the reason why I want to protect her so badly?

He quickly shakes the thought away, blushing even deeper. Get a grip on yourself, you idiot!

“Well, Haechannie.” You stand up from the spot you’ve been sitting on, smoothening down your dress. “I’m supposed to head over to my uncle’s house now. I don’t want to make him worry.”

“Oh…” Haechan blinks, standing up as well. “Right, of course.”

You’re appalled at how taller he is now. Even when you’re standing up straight, you can only reach a little above his shoulder line. “Are you still growing?”

“Huh?” Haechan takes a look at himself. “Oh. Yeah, maybe.” And you want to comment on that but you’re distracted by the look of Haechan’s fox ears going down. “Are you…” he looks away, somewhat hiding his lips behind the back of his hand. His cheeks are burning redder by the second. “Are you going to come back here tomorrow?”

The wind is probably playing tricks to your ears, that’s why you’re hearing some weird stuff right now. “What?”

“Ah, damn it!” He groans, his blush now expanding to the tip of his ears. “I said, are you going to come back here tomorrow or not, you stupid monkey girl! Don’t make me say this thing twice, it’s freaking embarrassing!”

It takes another two seconds for you to process before you burst out laughing. He’s so childish; it’s somewhat adorable. “If you want me to, I will,” you reply, wiping small tears away from your eyes.

Although Haechan’s ears perk up instantly at your answer, he keeps muttering rudely, “Well, don’t expect me to wait here for you or anything, okay? Today is special but I won’t do it tomorrow.”

“Huh?” You nearly break out into laughter again. “You were waiting for me today?”

By this point, Haechan’s practically combusted into flames. “SHUT UP, YOU MONKEY GIRL!” In a split second, he transforms into his animal form, creating musky grey mist all around you, and he bites your nose before he scurries away. His golden tail still wags happily behind him as he runs off.

Rubbing your nose from the itching pain, you grin with your teeth shown and waves your hand goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Haechannie!”

“It’s Donghyuck!” His voice can be heard but he’s nowhere to be seen. “My real name is Donghyuck. You better memorize that!”

Donghyuck… Somehow, you could feel your heart warming in the way it hasn’t been for a year long. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow, Donghyuck…”

Your summer is changing. The feeling is different though something hasn’t quite changed. You still miss Taeyong, terribly so. There will probably no way you can stop missing him. After all, they said first love lasts forever, right?

But I’m doing fine, Taeyong. There are still many things for me to do so I will move on, little by little. No matter how long it would take for me to be able to remember your name without hurting; to remember your smile without regretting not being able to kiss your lips longer; or to remember the days we spent together and not crying over them—I will heal. 

Time will no longer be our enemy. It will be the one to erase my pain.

I will heal.

***

Dear Taeyong,

I miss you.

I miss you a lot.

I miss you to the point of shedding my tears.

But I will not wish for you to come back.

After all you never truly left me, did you?

I remember everything.

I still remember everything.

Even if ten years have passed, even if twenty, even if a thousand years have gone by, as long as I’m still alive, I promise you until my dying breath that I will remember you.

You are still the beautiful reality in my sleep.

The blissful dream in my wake.

I am still here, in the place where we usually meet.

I am not waiting for you—I know you wouldn’t want that.

But I am here because of you. Because you remind me of summer. Of joy. Of faith. Of love. Of a bittersweet goodbye. 

Everything about you brings smiles to my face, even if our first embrace ended without time waiting for me to keep your warmth. Even if our kiss never left an aftertaste on my lips. 

It’s all right. It’s enough. 

No matter where you are now, Taeyong… Be happy.

I will meet you again in our next life.

Maybe by then, we can set our promise not by words, but by our fingers lacing together. 

And maybe by then, you can stroke my hair when I cry. 

And every time we part, I will let you take my farewell words from my lips. 

Take my breath, if you must. After all, they’re yours. Everything about me is yours.

I love you.

I love you so much.

I love you despite everything that separated us. Time, distance, age, even a single touch—Nothing can make me tired of loving you. I love you. I have never loved anyone else but you.

I am forever yours.

***

My Love,

I miss you too.

I miss you so much.

I miss you to the point of breaking apart.

And I’m glad you don’t wish for me to come back. 

I don’t think it would’ve done us any good.

I still remember you.

I will always remember you.

Even if I no longer have a body, even if not even my ashes remain, even if the fireflies decide to abandon me, I will remember you.

Listen to me, my dear.

Even if I had the chance to choose, I still wouldn’t change a thing. 

I’d prefer not to be able to touch you, to feel your warmth, or to taste your lips, 

rather than not be able to fall in love with you.

I’d rather be consumed with these feelings I have for you, 

rather than being burned by a passion that would be over after the summer end. 

This is all right. This is enough.

So no matter what happens next… Be happy.

For I do not wish for anything else.

I have no regrets. 

You have given me everything I’d asked for. 

You have given me more than I could ever imagine.

I have never desired anything until I met you. 

I am eternally grateful for our meeting. 

Even if we had to separate for nine months each year, I have enjoyed every little second that we spent, from sunrise to sunset even if it was only three months a year.

I will see you in our next life.

And by then, I will place a ring around the finger you lace with mine. 

And by then, I will kiss the tears away from your eyes.

And we will never part, but I will seal your lips with mine from saying those farewell words.

I love you too. I wouldn’t have understood love if it wasn’t for you. My whole life wouldn’t have meant something if it wasn’t for you.

Until we meet again, my love.

I am forever yours.

***

[nessinborderland]

The Best We Can

Pairing: Hatter x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Before, death was imminent, yes, but tonight… tonight you got reminded of your own mortality.

Warnings: mentions of death, injury, blood and panic attack

Notes: @hatterstan-shameblog asked: real hype about the way you wrote my boy danma takeru, just the right balance of ‘charming best buddy’ mixed with ‘manipulative rat-bastard.’ like, you really Get Him in a way that makes my heart smile.anyways, if you’ve got the time and the inclination, i’d love to see what you’d do with a little hurt/comfort.****picture it: 3AM, post-game, him and reader (you) sitting on the counter in the beach’s kitchen. taking gulps straight from a bottle of wine, passed between the two of you. trying to ignore the smell of blood drying on your skin.“what do we do now?” you ask.he pats you on the knee.“the best we can.”****y’know, like. bittersweet. a rare moment of vulnerability on his part. just mess me up, friend.

After 84 years, here I am! God, it’s taking forever to go through all your requests, but I can happily say that there are only about 20 one-shot requests to write :) so YEY! Dude, really hope you like this. I’ve been feeling angsty lately so I just took the chance lol. Enjoy <3

Masterlist

Seaside Paradise Tokyo – or the Beach, as your friend decided to call it – is a ghost town at this hour of the night. The few people that live there with you either died tonight or are passed out drunk. But not you two. 

Not after tonight’s game. 

You don’t think you’ve ever experienced something like this – the never-ending feeling that you’re breathing on borrowed time. Before, death was imminent, yes, but tonight… tonight you got reminded of your own mortality. Your head is filled with the fresh memories of multiple people dying in horrible ways, screaming and pleading for either help or mercy as you look down on them. You can’t stop thinking about how you should’ve been one of them, how you should’ve died tonight.

But you didn’t.

And your savior – the man that made the decision to let everyone else die so you could live – is offering you a bottle of port this very moment.

“Earth to Y/N.”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts with a low gasp that doesn’t go unnoticed by your friend, that raises a brow in concern. You accept the bottle without looking him in the eyes and take a gulp of the sweet wine, swallowing without barely tasting its rich flavor. You don’t have to pretend that you’re fine in front of him – not after he saw you desperately cry and have a panic attack just an hour before – but you still can’t force yourself to look at him.

Not after what happened.

“You’re trembling,” he says, voice low, like he’s talking to a wounded animal. His arm goes over your shoulders, and you flinch and slap his hand away on an impulse. You gasp and stare into his wide eyes, a knot forming again in your throat.

“Takeru, I–”

“It’s fine,” he says with a nod, standing up from his seat at the kitchen counter right beside you. There’s a dark expression in his eyes, something you can’t quite place, but that terrifies you beyond belief. You hear him sigh as he turns his back to you for a moment, almost like he’s leaving, before changing his mind and going back to sitting on the counter, now far from you.

You watch him as he grabs the bottle beside you and takes several long gulps, drops of wine running down the corners of his mouth to mix with the blood on his skin and down his chest. That makes you look at yourself, skin specked and covered in blood that is not your own. You let out out a muffled sob, eyes filling with tears that you thought you had run out of.

He doesn’t get close to you this time, and you’re not sure if you hate or appreciate the gesture. Probably both. He only looks at you when you start crying again – pathetic whimpers that you force yourself to stop. His gaze is soft but his mouth is set in a hard line, and you turn your back to him as you try to calm down, ashamed of your reaction.

You stop crying soon enough and accept the bottle of wine when he offers it to you again – this time appreciating the alcohol as it sets in your stomach – feeling yourself relax almost instantly. 

Time goes by where you just sit in silence, sharing the wine between you until that bottle is empty and he opens another.

“He’s mad at you, you know?” you ask, remembering the moment Aguni woke up to find you all covered in blood and you freaking out to the moment of almost passing out. He had been hit in the head so badly that he was bleeding profusely by the time he hit the floor. You thought he was dead for a moment until Takeru shook you out of your trance and got you three out, killing and sacrificing everyone else in the process.

“Let him be mad,” Takeru says with a shrug, “He has to realize eventually that we can’t save everyone. Not here,” you say nothing in response, handing him the bottle. He accepts it, looking at you from the corner of his eye, “Are you...mad at me?”

“... No.” you hesitated for a moment, but it’s the truth. You’re not mad, you just… wish things were different. Wish you weren’t there, forced to play games and either kill or be killed. You wish you were back home. You wish your friends were not forced to change.

You wish, wish, wish.

“Do I scare you?” he asks again. This time you take a little longer to reply, but decided to give a negative answer. He chuckles – a dry, humorless sound – that resembles nothing of the Takeru you once knew, “You were never good at lying, were you?”

You sigh and shake your head before sliding down the counter next to him. Your thigh is touching his thigh, and you don’t hesitate to lean your head against his shoulder, proving to him that no, you’re not afraid of him.

“You don’t scare me,” you whisper, almost like you’re telling him a secret, “I’m just scared. All the time. I’m scared for me, and I’m scared for you, and I’m scared for Mori. I just- I wish this was all a nightmare.”

“I’m scared too,” he leans his head on top of yours and hands you the bottle. That’s when you notice that his hands are slightly shaking, “I also don’t want anything to happen to us. That’s why I did what I had to do. You can both be mad at me all you want, but I still wouldn’t change a thing.” he waits until you drink a gulp before taking the bottle or himself, “We’re alive because of me.” he says, before finishing the bottle.

“What do we do now?” you can feel tears threatening to fall as you interlock your arm with his, wanting to feel closer. His trembling hand taps your knee, and you feel as he takes a deep breath and stops shaking.

“The best we can,” he says, “As long as we’re alive, nothing else matters.”

[straycat-writes]

Been A While (Osamu Dazai)

Summary: You run into him after five long years. Let’s just say you both have a lot to unpack.

Stepping precariously on the stepladder, you tried to keep your balance as you arranged the books on the topmost shelf. The bookstore you worked at was mostly empty this time of the afternoon, so you were taking the time to correctly rearrange the books. The customers kept misplacing them after browsing and it was really starting to get on your nerves.

Just then, you hear the faint tinkling of the bell hanging at the entrance, signaling that someone had entered.

“Do we really need to be doing this in the middle of an assignment?” You hear a voice say, frustration evident in it.

“I’m telling you, Atsushi, I need that book. My previous copy got completely drenched the last time I jumped into the river!” Replied another voice, this one slightly deeper.

The first voice sighed, “Fine. Let’s just find someone to help us. Is anybody here?”

“I’ll be right there!” You quickly step down from the ladder you had propped up against the tall bookshelf, dust off your hands and make your way towards the front, “Yes, how may I help you?”

The boy standing in front of you was rather young, with white hair and a kind face. The other person was nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, uh, my coworker here is looking for a specific book…” he craned his neck to try and find his colleague who had wandered off somewhere into the various aisles of bookshelves, before calling out “Dazai-san, what’s it called again?

Your heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be….

“A Complete Guide to Suicide.” The person replied as he popped back towards the two of you, “Weren’t you paying atten – “

He stopped mid-sentence as he stared at you, who was already frozen in place. He looked…different from the last time you had seen him. Lesser bandages for one, and his signature dark coat was nowhere to be seen. But there was no mistaking it. It was him.

“…Dazai?”

The meekness of your own voice surprised you, while his features melted into an effortless smirk, “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

The white-haired boy, Atsushi, you presumed, looked back and forth between the two of you, “Uh…do you know her, Dazai-san?”

“I do.” Dazai replied with a half-smile, but didn’t elaborate.

“Err…” Atsushi fumbled with himself, “I’ll just…go on ahead alone. You can catch up later.”

With that, he was out like a gust of wind. You weren’t sure if you were relieved by that or not, because right then, talking to this old acquaintance of yours felt more difficult than climbing a mountain. Why had all your words suddenly left you?

The man standing in front of you was oh-so-familiar, and yet still a stranger. His brown eyes were the same as they had always been, except that they somehow looked…brighter, and healthier.

Silence. Then, “How have you been, (y/n)?”

“I’ve been…fine.” The sound of your name dropping from his lips brought back a feeling you hadn’t felt in the past five years. You tried to shake it off and regain your composure.

“I had heard you had defected from the mafia.” You say, “What made the ‘demonic prodigy’ of Ogai Mori turn over to the good side?”

He looked away from your eyes, “Things…happened.”

“When did you leave?”

“A year after you did.” He replied non-chalantly. He was deliberately being curt in his answers.

And you knew not to question it further. Five years ago, when you had somehow been lucky enough to be let go from that dark hell, Osamu Dazai was still an executive of the Port Mafia, and the scariest man in all of Yokohama.

But barely a year after you had left and started building a new life for yourself, you heard hushed rumours about him leaving. After that, he had just…disappeared. It wasn’t strange, per se, but you had always wondered what became of him.

“So, what are you doing now?” You asked finally.

He smiled and shrugged non-chalantly, “I work for the Armed Detective Agency.”

“Really? How did – “

“Say whatever you want, I never imagined someone like you would end up working at a bookshop of all places.” He said with a grin.

You sighed. Cutting people off in the middle was an old strategy of his when he wanted to avoid answering questions. You knew once he starts doing that, there’s no use of trying.

You shook your head, “What’s wrong with working in a bookshop?”

“Mm, nothing.” He laughs, “It’s just…unusual to see you in such a docile atmosphere. After all, you did use to be one of our fiercest assassins.”

You stiffened up at his words. That part of your past was something you wanted to bury, so far deep that no one would ever be able to reach it. But this bastard just had to come sauntering in and pick that bone.

“Can I help you with what you’re looking for?” You asked curtly.

“Come, now…” Dazai said softly as he noticed the change in your demeanour, his features softening immediately. He changed the subject, “Have you been here in Yokohama this entire time?”

You shook your head as you slowly walked back to the nearest shelf, looking for the book he wanted. You replied without looking at him, “I had left the country for a while. Only came back a year or so ago.”

“I see.”

You weren’t sure what exactly he saw. Five years ago, you had worked both beside and under him. You knew first-hand what kind of person he used to be when he was playing the part of the youngest executive in the history of the Port Mafia. You knew just how cold-hearted and ruthless he could be, to his enemies, and even to his own subordinates. You had always felt sorry for Akutagawa.

But even back then, you thought there might be a sliver of hope. There had to be a human inside there somewhere…right?

You had never been able to figure him out. He was this far-away entity who was as interesting as he was frightening, as confusing as he was intimidating. Besides, you were never able to figure what exactly it was that you felt, so you kept your distance.

But there was this little flicker of something, maybe it was hope, maybe something else, that you carried with you. You only realized this now, and wondered why you had been foolish enough to not abandon it as soon as it materialized.

Associating with Dazai was just asking for trouble. That had always been the case.

A Complete Guide to Suicide. You sighed as you walked back with the book and handed it to him, “I see you haven’t changed that much, after all. When will you stop trying to kill yourself?”

He winked, “When I’ve perfected a way to die.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling a little. Despite what you had just said, you could see that he had changed a bit. And you liked this Dazai better.

There was silence for a while, but you could practically see the gears turning in his head as figured how to proceed to whatever he wanted to do next. You knew he wouldn’t ask you anymore questions about the past five years. It was an unspoken mutual agreement that neither of you was willing to answer any more questions about the past.

A small smile made its way across his face, “What do you say we go out for a drink sometime?”

You blinked. That was probably the last thing you had expected him to say and for a moment, you were conflicted. Memories of all that you had seen and done, all that he had done, flashed before your eyes. Gun-shots and blades and sickening smiles, the constant smell of leather and iron, taking a life as if it meant nothing. And of course, the blood, just…so much blood. You squeezed your eyes shut. You had done all that. And Dazai was there to see it.

Would this really be such a great idea? What if you walked right back into what you were so desperately trying to escape from?

Dazai seemed to sense your hesitation, immediately deducing what was going through your head, and smiled wistfully. He had expected this. And perhaps it was for the better.

“Alright, then.” He said as he paid for the book, the wistful smile on his face replaced by a cheerful grin. You scoffed. Who is he trying to fool?

He had just turned around to leave, when you finally mustered up everything you had, and spoke, “Wait!”

He stopped, turning back to look at you, head tilted slightly as if to question you. You found yourself thinking he looked adorable like that, and immediately chided yourself for thinking that at this particular moment.

You took a deep breath to try and still the thudding of your heart, “About that drink…I’d…I’d like that.”

[therainroguefanfiction]

My First… Friend (Haruhi Fujioka)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Friendship, Fluff ☁

Word Count: 2,252 ☁

Pairing: Reader, Haruhi Fujioka ☁

World: Anime, Ouran High School Host Club ☁

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You heaved a heavy sigh as you walked down the hallways of Ouran high school, books clutched tightly to your chest. Several girls passed by you, their eyes narrowed with disgust and hatred. They couldn’t believe that a commoner like you was allowed into their prestigious school.

It had been almost two months since you were enrolled at Ouran, but the looks and the treatment you received had not changed. You understood why you were being treated so, but you were in no position to complain. Your new parents only wanted what was best for you and since they had an unbelievable amount of money, they thought what was ‘best’ was sending you to Ouran.

So far, though, you failed to see what your adopted parents deemed so impressive about this school. So what if it was built like a castle and had all of the latest teaching equipment? It was filled to the very brim with stuck-up teens who believed they were better simply because their parents had money.

You still weren’t sure how they had managed to figure out that you were an orphan. It made you question the limits of what one could do with unlimited amounts of cash, but you hated to think that way and did your best to remain positive.

Then there was the uniform, a frilly bright yellow dress.

It took everything you had to not become sick whenever you looked at it. Not only that, but it was very difficult for you to move around in the thing.

As if sensing your distaste for the fabric, the dress slid down, falling into the path of your foot. Your sneaker landed on it causing you to trip and fall face first to the ground, books scattering across the floor. The passing students paused, but not to give you a hand.

They laughed at you, pointing and shouting insults at you.

Your cheeks burned and you sniffled in an attempt to stop the tears before they could fall from your eyes.

You hated this school.

You hated rich people.

You hated this new life.

Why did you survive the car accident just to suffer like this?

“What are you laughing at?” A sharp voice broke through the crowd, silencing the cackling girls. “This isn’t a show! Get lost!”

You could hear their footsteps fade away as they scurried away from the scene. Once their footsteps faded away and you believed that you were alone, your head slowly lifted.

Your glassy eyes noticed a hand in front of your face and traveled up the arm, growing wide when they landed on a handsome face.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, lips tugged down in concern.

You swallowed hard, hands clenching around the dress. Of all the people to witness such an embarrassing moment, why did it have to be such a gorgeous boy?

Your eyes started to pool with tears once more, unable to hold them back this time. They trailed down your reddening cheeks, dropping from your chin and to the ugly yellow cloth that you were forced to wear. Your hands reached up to cover your face but froze when you felt a warm hand on your cheek.

Your eyes locked with intense brown eyes as he wiped your cheeks free of the troublesome tears.

“Please don’t cry,” he murmured softly, his lips tugged down into a frown. “You’re the recent transfer student, right? Y/N?”

You could only nod, too embarrassed to trust your voice.

“It’s nice to meet you. If you need help with anything, let me know, okay?”

You blinked in confusion. Why was he being so nice to you? Hadn’t he heard the rumors? You were just a lowly orphan, a commoner, not worth his time. “Why…” your voice cracked as expected and you flushed, turning your gaze to the ground. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Why are you being nice to me?”

He cocked his head to the side, brown bangs brushing his forehead from the movement. He stared at you for a moment in confusion before smiling at you softly. “I know what it’s like.”

“Eh?”

“My family’s not rich. I got into Ouran on a scholarship, so I know how trying these kids can be.”

“W-Wow. You must be really smart.”

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. “Y-Yeah, I guess so.”

Climbing to his feet, he extended his hand to you once again. You didn’t hesitate to slide your hand into his and he easily pulled you to your feet, leaning down to pick up your books.

His eyes glanced over at the clock. “It’s that late already? I’m sorry, but there’s somewhere I need to be.”

“W-Wait!” You cried, grabbing onto the sleeve of his jacket. “Y-Your name…”

“Ah,” Realization dawned on him that he had not properly introduced himself. He smiled, turning around to face you, his eyes closed and head cocked to the side. “Haruhi. Haruhi Fujioka.”

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Several months passed by and you found yourself growing increasingly dependant on Haruhi. He was always there, standing up for you and helping you with anything that you needed. He was so sweet and kind to you… you honestly didn’t know how to react to him.

All you knew was that you were terrified to lose your first and only friend.

You stopped walking, eyes staring blankly at the floor.

Did you even have any right to call him your friend? You haven’t known each other for very long and you hadn’t even spoken to him outside of school. You doubted that he felt the same overbearing attachment that you did. After all, he probably had a whole group of friends.

It scared you.

You shook your head and continued walking.

You weren’t focusing on who or what was around you and you ended up roughly bumping into someone’s shoulder. With your head bowed low in embarrassment, you quickly muttered out an apology before continuing on your way. The boy had no intention of letting you leave, though, and grabbed your arm roughly, fingers digging into your skin. He whipped you around, shoving you against the wall.

Your eyes grew wide in fear of the malicious look swirling in his eyes.

A grin took over his lips as his eyes raked over your body. “You’re not the hottest thing out there, but you’ll do.”

“W-What?” You managed to squeak out, only to cringe at how weak it came out.

“You have to pay for bumping into me.”

“I-I said sorry!”

“Not good enough.” He pressed his body against yours, back digging painfully into the wall. It hurt, but you didn’t have the strength to cry out.

Your eyes frantically searched the hallway, pleading for someone, anyone, to help you, but it was completely deserted.

He laughed at you, amusement dancing in his eyes. His hands grabbed onto your wrists, forcing them against the wall before encasing them with one hand. “School’s over, babe. There’s no one here to save you~” He purred into your ear.

A whimper of fear left your lips as you begged him to let you go, but this action only seemed to turn him on. He pressed his hips against yours.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

The male was shoved away from you. As soon as his grip was gone, you slid down to the floor, your legs no longer able to hold up your weight. The assailant stumbled back a few steps but somehow managed to maintain his balance, eyes narrowed at your savior.

“Fujioka,” he spat, angrily.

The name made your head snap up.

Haruhi stood before you protectively, an angry look marring his face. “How can you call yourself a man when you have to force yourself onto a girl? It’s despicable!”

The un-named boy took a menacing step forward, but he didn’t make it far before he was flat on his back and out cold. You blinked dumbly, ‘What just happened?’

Your eyes shifted to a tall boy who stood over your attacker. Beside him was his polar opposite, clinging to a stuffed pink bunny. You tried to get a better look at the odd pair, but Haruhi’s face obstructed your view.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He questioned, brown eyes shining with worry. You didn’t respond, instead throwing yourself into his arms, face buried into the crook of his neck. Tears streamed down your face, no longer able to be held back.

Haruhi wrapped his arms around your shaking form, one hand petting her head as he whispered comforting words into your ear.

You felt like such a child, growing even more embarrassed being able to sense the gaze of the other two boys. You clutched Haruhi’s shirt in your fist, knowing that you had to look so lame right now.

Haruhi didn’t complain as you wrinkled his shirt. He didn’t complain at the strange feeling of his neck being soaked with tears. He simply held you tight until your sobbing finally died down.

When your body finally obeyed your command to stop shaking, you slowly pulled away from him, making sure to keep your head low so that your hair shadowed your face. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffled, attempting to stand. It proved more difficult than you had originally thought since your legs had fallen asleep. Haruhi ended up supporting you. “I-I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N.” He told you, but his words went unheard. You continued apologizing until your exhausted body gave into the shock and you slipped into unconsciousness. Haruhi struggled with the dead weight, almost hitting the floor if not for the stoic third year.

“Thank you, Mori-senpai.”

He nodded without uttering a word, lifting you into his arms. Deciding to take you to the host club room so you could rest, the three started off down the hall, not sparing a glance to the unconscious male. Haruhi was worried about what Tamaki and the twins would do, but right now, he didn’t have any other choice.

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You felt warm and safe, a feeling you hadn’t experienced since you were a small child. It felt absolutely lovely, like you were floating on air.

Shifting slightly, your eyes fluttered open and two identical faces entered your view, hovering just inches from your own face. You tried to jump back, but whatever object you were lying on prevented you from making it very far. Hastily rubbing your eyes, you looked again, still seeing double.

“She’s awake,” they chimed in unison before backing away.

You felt as if you could breathe again, but it didn’t last long.

Your personal space was invaded once more, this time by a blonde who took your hand into his own. “Good morning, hime.” His lips brushed your knuckles and your face flushed at the attention, head beginning to spin.

‘Good morning?’, you echoed in your head, eyes sliding closed. ‘How long was I out? Where am I? And more importantly, who are these people surrounding me?!’

“Will you knock it off? You’re scaring her!” Your hand was released as the blonde was pushed away, leaving Haruhi to kneel down beside the couch, brown eyes shimmering with worry. “Don’t be afraid, Y/N. You’re safe here.”

Your eyes cracked open to peer at Haruhi’s smiling face. Your heart was pounding in your ribcage, eyes clouding over with tears. Was this what it felt like to have someone who cared? What it felt like to have a friend? You felt cared for and you finally didn’t feel alone. You sniffled, burying your face into your knees.

Tamaki shot up, his hands weaving through his blonde locks and eyes wide in distress. “W-Why are you crying, hime?!”

“Way to go, tono -” Kaoru piped up from behind him.

“- You made Y/N cry.” Hikaru finished beside his twin.

“Eh?!” The blonde squeaked. “W-What did I do?!”

Haruhi sighed at the loud volume, opening his mouth to scold them but he never got the chance. You flung your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest.

“Haruhi?” You called softly, voice slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“Yes, Y/N?” His arms wrapped protectively around your body, hand resting atop your head.

“Thank you,”

“For what?”

“For everything. You… you’re the first friend I ever had and I… I owe you a lot.”

The brunette laughed, ruffling your hair. “You don’t owe me anything. You’re a nice person, and I’m happy to be your friend.”

You smiled for the first time in many years. A real, genuine smile that made your face light up and heart flutter with happiness. “I love you, Haruhi!”

“I love you, too.” He smiled back.

You buried your face farther into his warm chest before pausing.

Something wasn’t right here.

You blinked dumbly up at him. “Haruhi?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you a girl?”

The whole room grew tense, the other host members froze in their spot with wide eyes and mouth gaping open. They started to deny the accusation, but Haruhi cut them off, “I am.”

“Haruhi!” Tamaki cried, clutching his hair tightly.

You simply blinked in response. “Okay.”

They stared at you in shock as you rested your head back on Haruhi’s chest, a content smile plastered on your face. To you, it didn’t matter if Haruhi was a male or female, she was your friend that had been there for you since the first day you met, and to you, that’s all that mattered.

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📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[dearosamu]

DESPERADO - EPITHYMIA

SYPNOSIS: she, a dancer with personified problems all the while more that intrigues osamu dazai who came into her life amidst the chaos that is [name] [last name].

WARNING/S: none

six - seven

dazai ended up staying in at home instead of going to work. he felt that he may not be needed today or rather, he may have attended one of mori's oh so important but utterly boring meetings that he loves hosting so much. since [name] felt unobligated to accept his generous offer of financial support, at least he'd have someone else to attain his support - namely akutagawa.

it was a pretty bland day. he lazed around his home before deciding on doing something semi-productive. he had a few of his many cleaners come by to tidy up a good portion of his home - it was theoretically impossible to clean a massive pent house by himself  - while he tended to his own private study, picking away at his piles of paperwork he had yet to look over. he still had time for those. maybe, if he felt like it.

he wanted to hold off on paperwork even more, but a simple phone message sent to him by his business partner wasn't going to let him slack off and waste precious time doing nothing. so, he spent a good few hours holed up in his study, somehow managing to finish weeks worth of paperwork.

dawn came upon him sooner than he would've liked, but his day did a complete one-eighty as soon as he heard a ding on his doorstep.

to his surprise, there stood a familiar woman with [h.c] colored hair and a young boy who clinged onto her side tightly. [name] and yumeno.

he would've teased her for this shortcoming, but her agitated and close to desperate expression silenced him before he could utter a single word. the thought of how she found out his address passed by the brunette's mind. he'd just ask her later.

"please take care of him for me." [name] requests - more like demands - dazai. "just for tonight."

"[name], why are yo-"

"his usual sitter has gone out of town and i didn't know about it until now. chuuya and tanizaki are working and akutagawa can't deal with children. i don't know who else i can trust to take care of him."

"so-"

"just because i'm here doesn't mean i trust you that much."  [name] cuts him off again.

"yumeno has .. taken a liking to you somehow. i'm taking his word for it." [name] gives yumeno a gentle push towards dazai. now, dazai ached to give her a hard time. a few snarky comments here and there, but he simply took yumeno in, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"keep him safe, don't let him lose his doll and get him to bed by ten."

[name] made a move to turn around and leave, but stopped herself from pushing forward. she mutters something under her breath, but decides against repeating herself out loud.

she just continued to walk until her figure could no longer be seen.

--

"wah~ you have such a big and nice place, osa-chan!" yumeno exclaims upon settling himself on dazai's soft and comfortable cushion couch.

dazai is called by many things. he's also a man of weird, yet enticing talents. being a babysitter for a thirteen year-old boy was definitely not on sub par on his to do list. he turns his gaze towards the younger male, motioning with a nod of his head.

"yeah, i do. do you want anything? i think i have something sweet for you. unless you want an actual meal, i got some leftovers in the fridge." though, dazai implies leftover pasta and some sandwiches an actual meal. not exactly practical for the current time of day.

"it's okay, i'm not that hungry," yumeno sends dazai one of his appalling smiles. dazai feels a trifling feeling of dread. why can't this child smile normally?

"let's play a game!" yumeno jumps up from his position on the couch, slightly tossing his precious doll in the air before hugging it close to his chest.

"game?" dazai questions, perplexed. yumeno hums in agreement. "do you have anything fun to play with?"

"i don't have anything that you can play with. why not just play with your doll?"

"marga is precious to me. i can't possibly ruin her pretty state," yumeno replies while stroking a side of the doll's face gently. dazai ignores the weird ministrations of the kid - and how he handles that creepy looking doll with care, opting to sit on the free spot beside him.

"got any board games?" yumeno turns towards dazai.

"no, i don't have time for silly things."

"what do you have time for then?"

"i plan the course of strategic development for my company."

"you're doing that thing again," the kid gives a small giggle. "you're talking all smart!"

"i do like to pride myself as an intelligent individual," dazai gives a small grin in agreement. at least someone was acknowledging his intelligence.

"mhm! even though i have no idea what you're talking about." the young male beams. dazai snorts at the comment. of course he doesn't. he's thirteen after all.

"hey, osa-chan," yumeno tugs at dazai's dress shirt. "i want you to lift me up!"

"a lift? wha-..!" without warning, yumeno jumped on dazai's back, giggles coming out of his mouth at the sound dazai makes.

"h-hey! don't jump at me so unexpectedly!" dazai maintains his balances as he adjusts his position to hold yumeno piggy back style.

"gallop along, my noble steed!" yumeno laughs as he lifts his doll, marga, in the air.

"please don't call me a noble steed," dazai sweats before proceeding to jog around his living room with yumeno on his back.

"you know, for a skinny guy, you sure do seem strong!"

"want me to drop you brat?"

"i'm kidding!!" yumeno laughs as he tightens his hold on dazai in slight fear his words may come true. dazai rolls his eyes in a playful way. [name]'s son seemed like a handful. it's a wonder that she can handle one troublesome brat. "you can put me down now."

dazai bends down a little to have yumeno off his back, in which the latter diverted his attention to his fifty-five inch tv. yumeno points to the black screen, grinning.

"can we watch something on your tv?"

--

a few hours had passed by since [name] dropped off yumeno. it was nearing ten pm, meaning dazai had to get yumeno to sleep soon. he returns to the living room after retrieving a fresh cold beverage from his kitchen, only to notice a small figure slumped against his couch.

he gets closer to find yumeno passed out while the tv still played a random show he was watching an hour ago prior to his drowsy state. dazai chuckles at the sight, placing his glass on the coffee table near the couch to pick up his sleeping figure to transfer him in a guest room. yumeno wouldn't budge and only moved to get in a more comfortable position on the couch. dazai  gave up on trying to move the sleeping male, seeing as he didn't plan on leaving the couch anytime soon and fetched him a spare blanket instead.

his doorbell rang again upon the next two hours. there stood [name], who now wore very different clothes from hours before. she sported a black and white striped skirt that only reached her upper thigh, accompanied with a white over-sized shirt tied to a knot that clearly wasn't hers to cover up whatever was under it. she held a cropped jacket on one arm while the other was placed on her hip, impatience and stress were evident on her face.

"where's yumeno?"

"he's asleep on my couch," he moved a bit for space for her to come in. "don't you have any spare clothes?"

"i got off late and as you can see, i was in a rush." [name] huffs.

"why don't you just borrow one of mine?"

[name] turned her gaze to him indecorously. "what, you want me to dress in your hobo fashion?" she snickers.

"hey! i'll have you know i have attained my fashion sense from someone who actually dresses nice! unless your preference in fashion is the same as that stupid slug, i can see where you get your poor taste from," dazai scoffs.

"if you just wanna insult me with the clothes i'm wearing, i'm obligated to just take yumeno now and step out that door," [name] barks through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed.

dazai ignores her and drags her to his room, shoving her inside. "there's my wardrobe. just pick whatever you like. though it may be a bit large, at least it's proper than your current attire."

[name] rolls her eyes. "do you ever not avoid saying stupid comments for no reason?"

dazai shrugs at her and motions for her to get changed. [name] raises an arched brow to him.

"well? get out! i'm not letting you watch me change, fuckin' pervert!" she pushes him from his leaning position on the door and slams it shut. she's a brat too, treating dazai that way in his own house. she's real lucky that he's o̶b̶s̶e̶s̶s̶e̶d̶  infatuated with her.

he went back to the living room to wait for her to get finished, scrolling idly on his phone for any updates on work that he needed to tend to and going through his other social media.

"done," he watches [name] walk downstairs, wearing one of his black shirts and slacks that were probably too small for him already, seeing how it managed to fit her nicely.

she looked good in his clothes.

really good.

[name] tried to ignore his obvious stare that he didn't even bother hiding. what a weirdo.

"got a spare bag i can use to dump my clothes?"

dazai nods wordlessly and leaves for a moment to fetch a small spare satchel bag from his study. [name] takes it from him without a word, choosing to carelessly stuff her clothes inside it.

"it wouldn't hurt you to at least say a 'thank you', you know," dazai pouts at her, crossing his arms in a child-like manner.

"i don't like you enough to act all nice and friendly."

"you kissed me the other night though."

"obviously to get you to shut up." [name] groans. "and please, do not mention it again to me. ever."

"why though?" dazai questions while placing his hands on his hips. "you insinuated it without me doing anything. and frankly, despite what you told me hours before, you might actually trust me enough to take care of yumeno."

[name] doesn't give him a reply nor bother herself to spare him a glance. dazai steps even closer.

"why do you keep denying me? you know that there's more to it, right? why can't you just tell me?"

"just shut up already!" [name] glares at him. "there is nothing, alright? i have nothing to say to you." [name] pushed pass him to walk over to yumeno's sleeping form, nudging his shoulder to wake him up.

"yumeno? sweetie, it's me. wake up," [name] softly coos at her son. yumeno rubbed his eyes from drowsiness, sluggishly trying to sit up but ended up leaning against his mother.

"h-huh? but, i'm still so sleepyy.." he yawns.

"sorry, yumeno. we have to go now, we don't wanna overstay our welcome," she mutters the last part mostly to herself, but dazai wouldn't allow her act like that.

"why don't you two sleepover? i have a guest bedroom for you two, i don't mind."

"why are you so persistent on having us stay here?"

"i still don't understand your hostility towards me, but i'm trying to get on your good side, alright? i took care of q-chan for you already. at least let me do this for you," dazai insists. [name]'s narrowed eyes softens at this, glancing down towards yumeno's sleepy face. no matter her pride, she'd always put him first before herself.

she sighs, reluctantly agreeing to stay and sleep in dazai's house."fine. not like i had a choice anyway."

soon after that, [name] and yumeno had transferred to the guest room. yumeno already tucked in and continued on his deep sleep. [name] sits at the edge of the bed, humming to herself as she tucks away a strand of hair that were on yumeno's face.

dazai stares at the pair with an emotion he can't understand well himself. he sighs and turns to head back towards his own room. that is until he heard a voice call out to him.

"dazai?"

he hums in acknowledgement, letting [name] know he was listening.

"i.. i'm sorry for how i acted. you're being generous and kind enough to take care of him, as you said and you even went as far as offering us your place." she huffs before continuing. "it was uncalled for-"

"it's alright," dazai gives her a small grin. "i don't mind at all. just tell me if i go too far next time, 'kay? he turns to the side, hand rising up to cover a yawn coming out.

"it's getting pretty late, i should head back now. good night," he bids her a good nights rest before finally heading back. a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

"you didn't let me finish," the female clears her throat, mumbling something under her breath.

"huh? what was that?"

".. i said thank you. and good night." she promptly closes the door right then.

dazai stands there for a few moments before walking back upstairs to finally get to his room, chuckling to himself.

he really can't understand her sometimes.

[drabblesanddreams]

Enemy lines- part 2 Chuuya x reader

Part 2 commissioned for the lovely @moonlittxger!

If you would like a comission ill have my guidelines posted soon :)

“Wait,” you huffed in between breaths, clearly out of energy as you struggled to keep up with your fellow mafia-friends, “Why are we doing this alliance again?” you asked, staggering to a stop as your newly made friend Junichiro stopped as well.

He spared you a glance, clearly annoyed with your repetitive and bothersome questions. Hey, it really wasn’t your fault. You were still trying to adapt to this new lifestyle after six months, there were parts of this world that were still… hard to get used to if you will.

Your special abilities , on the one hand, were the most difficult thing to get used to. Your wings paired with your slight regenerative ability threw you off your moral-balance, one routine that could never be the same ever again.

“Because weirdly enough there’s been another god damn threat in the city again,” he rolled his eyes before shoving his hands in his pockets as he carefully eyed the city square the both of you were in, “That’s gotta be like the third time this month I swear,” he mumbled, eyes twitching.

Your lips twitched upwards in a smile, clearly amused at your fellow friend’s irritation. Even though you hadn’t met any of them personally, you were quite eager and a tad nervous to meet the members of the Armed Detective Agency; so very veered in the eyes of the public of Yokohoma.  

While the Port-Mafia guarded the city in the depths of the nighttime, the Armed detective agency was more tasked with crime in the daylight.

“What the fuck are you two doing standing around like idiots?” at the sudden insult, both you and Junichiro turned around to see Chuuya flanked with members of the Mafia.

Scowling, you tried to ignore the heavy pounding that was occurring in your heart every time you saw Chuuya. Over the last three months, the both of you had become closer, weirdly enough though you did still throw insults at each other.

“What do you mean ‘standing around’? We’ve been waiting for everyone else to show up but you guys are literally so late.” You defended yourself, crossing your arms over your chest in protest to his accusing remarks.

Junichiro agreed, and shouted a few insults to the already hot-tempered ginger which honestly was probably not a good choice on his part.

After all, having two ginger hot-headed fighters go for each other's necks would only end in pure chaos, and most likely war.

But before the two could actually start throwing hands, you saw a group- Port-Mafia, alongside Mori-san who was leading said group. When they arrived, you averted your gaze from Mori’s cold, calculating gaze. He never failed to make you nervous.

The two orange-haired boys finally shut the hell up, much to your relief and the three of you went to go stand alongside other members of the mafia.

Once you made your way to stand beside some unassuming fighter, you sighed and gazed into the distance of the park, hoping for any sign that the armed detective agency was on their way.

You nimbly checked your watch, seeing that they were just a few minutes late so far. When you raised your head, you were surprised to see a small group of interesting-looking characters walk towards you.

When they finally reached a few metres in front of your group, they stopped in their tracks. You were surprised, they only had three people on their side compared to the big group on yours.

Well…they certainly had style. The leader was tall, with a stern expression as his metallic blue eyes were fixed on Mori’s figure. He had long silver hair that ended just above his shoulders and donned a green yukata under what seemed to be a black haori.

The person flanked to his left was another tall man, with golden hair caught into a ponytail and silver-rimmed glasses that he pushed up his nose. He was wearing a beige vest with pants in the same colour. He didn’t look at all impressed with the situation which was a reaction that you couldn’t really argue with.

Then, on what was on the leader’s right was another tall man. He had curly and messy brown hair that fell over his forehead delicately. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat and it seemed like he to was wearing a vest underneath that jacket? Although you couldn’t really tell. He looked at your group with a smirk, as if they were all beneath him.

So, you thought, this must be the one that Chuuya liked to rant about daily.  He caught your stare almost immediately and sent you a smirk, to which your eyes widened. You felt your cheeks heat up immediately and you dropped your gaze to the ground.

Mori opened his mouth, no doubt to let out a greeting- or in his case, something purely scalding so that he may get on the armed detective agency’s nerves.

But before he could say anything, a loud explosion suddenly went off.

You were startled, for starters, as you felt the hot wind blow across your face as suddenly the park was filled with smoke and debris. You no doubt would’ve been blown away if it wasn’t for the sudden pull of the back of your shirt. You yelped as you were yanked back.

Once the smoke cleared, it seemed like everyone was scattered as you heard an explosion go off some four hundred metres down the street that led into the city.

You gingerly opened your eyes, turning around to catch Chuuya’s eyes as he stared at the mess in front of you.

“The enemy is here,” he simply retorted as he narrowed his eyes, scanning the area for danger.

“What?” you said panicking, eyes wide, “Like here? Like now?”

“Yes, like here like now!” he hissed and you felt your own face pull into a scowl as you shook his grip off of you.

“I wouldn’t yell at the pretty lady, Chuuya, after all, it’s a fair question”

Both of you turned your head to the right only to see the brunet from before.

Chuuya groaned, tilting his head back in frustration, “Shitty Dazai…” he muttered, before looking at the man whose name you now knew as Dazai, “Stay away from her, ya hear?!”

Before Dazai could say something back, something, or better yet, someone interrupted the both of you.

“Hmm, it seems like my plan did not go according to what I had in mind,”

The three of you snapped your head forwards to see a hooded figure, with his hands in his pockets.

Almost at the same time, the three of you armed yourselves. Dazai took his hands out of his pockets while both you and Chuuya activated your abilities.

You felt the familiar rush go up your spine as you felt the extension of your butterfly wings sprout into existence.

“Hm. Butterfly wings?” Dazai remarked, russet eyes taking in the structure of your wings. You felt almost naked under his pointed stare, a gaze that seemed to strip away the layers of your existence almost immediately.

“A rare ability like this would do wonderfully at the ADA, miss,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief as his eyes as he reached forwards for both of your hands.

“Uhm no thanks,” you half-heartedly said, pulling your hands away as your eyes were already on Chuuya’s figure who was fuming already at Dazai’s comment.

“Hm, I see,” Dazai narrowed his eyes as he followed your gaze before you were interrupted once more.

“You’re right, a rare ability like that would be simply…fantastic to have.” You tensed at the hooded figure’s words. Chuuya moved protectively in front of you, “It’s simply something I ought to have in my possession,” the enemy cocked his head, “You understand, don’t you? The meaning of wanting, (Y/N)”

You couldn’t help the shiver that ran through your body at the use of your name.

“Shut the fuck up already!” Chuuya growled before sprinting forward and activating his gravity so that he could land a gravity-heavy induced kick to the man.

To all of your surprise, the kick seemed to dissipate through the man and you watched as Chuuya go literally through the enemy.

“What the hell?” you exclaimed, exchanging glances with Dazai.

Suddenly, the man appeared between you and Dazai and the both of you jumped away.

“We don’t have to fight, it's simple really,” he stated before turning to you, “You have something I need and I have something you need,”

“I purely doubt it,” you snorted, using your wings to propel you off the ground so that you could land a punch on the man. However, your figure passed through him like smoke and you gasped as you roughly hit the ground.

On instinct, your wings curled around your figure, and through hazy cerulean wings, you could see the enemy leap towards you.

Thankfully, Chuuya managed to use his gravity to get to you in time so that he could pull you away, you yelped as an explosion went off, propelling the both of you backwards.

You winced, opening one eye as you felt the hard, structured body of Chuuya behind you. You rolled off of him and the both of you got up. You could feel the small burns on your body heal ever so slowly and you were thankful for your ability. You really did not like pain.

You flapped your wings, effectively getting rid of the extra smoke that sprung up.

You then rushed towards the man, flapping your wings aggressively in the air so that dirt from the ground could arise, when the debris filled the air, you smirked for it meant that his view was temporarily obstructed. You raised your fist and manage to slam it into his gut, pausing for a moment before he suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled it above so that you flew in the air.

You scowled as you used your wings to propel against the momentum and flipped backwards.

Both of you stared at each other a moment before he opened his mouth, “26.4 by 32.8 by 1.2”

You felt your blood freeze. Your eyes widened and your stance went slack. No one could have known about those coordinates…not unless they were from the same world-

“All you have to do it accept and you can go home, to your other home,”

“Like hell she’s-“Chuuya angrily started to retort but you cut him off easily.

“I accept.”

“What?!” Chuuya spun towards you and you flinched at his stare.

“No fucking way in hell are you going with that man (Y/N),” he hissed, taking a step towards you and you took a step back in response.

“You don’t understand Chuuya!” you spat back, shaking your head, “My home isn’t even here, if this is the only way I can go.. then I hav- I mean I..”

“I just want to go home…” you trailed off bitterly, clenching your fists at your sides hard enough to draw blood. You had gotten used to the sensation of drawing your own blood in order to ground yourself and maintain your calm demeanour.

“No,” he shook his head before reaching for your hand, “You can’t leave me (Y/N) I won’t let you get away from me again.” Your heart ached at his words and if this was a better place in a better time you would’ve pulled him in for a kiss.

“Not to interrupt, but I think we should finish defeating this man before we can take his answers”

Dazai’s cool response snapped the both of you out of your little bubble. You exchanged glances before turning back to the enemy.

You would get your answers one way or another, with Chuuya at your side.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, GREY! You’ve been accepted for the role of BENVOLIO with an FC change to FRANCISCO LACHOWSKI. Admin Rosey: Benvolio is a multi-faceted character who, in my opinion, is one of the most difficult to capture in a single application. There are so many different ways to pull him and he will cry out against all of them. Whether you wish to bloody his hands, have him save a Capulet, or send him away from the city again; all of them end in tragedy, all of them are never quite right. But Grey, in your application you managed to get to the very quick of his character. You gave him a distinct voice and an even more distinct heart. I can’t wait to have you ruin us all with him. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Grey

Age | 31

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | Currently I’m off work on extended medical leave (unknown end date), so mostly don’t have any major claims on my time and should be able to be around most days. With that said, medical issues and meds will crop up from time to time. Once I return to work, I work 3-4 days a week, so will still have multiple days a week free.

Timezone | Australian Eastern Standard Time (AEST/GMT +10)

How did you find the rp?  | Rogue seduced me over, so blame her for everything please

Current/Past RP Accounts | Bellavie (from a very short-lived rp) -  I’ve also played with Rogue in several places over the years.

In Character

Character | Benvolio / Bellamy Santa-Domingo. Preferred FC of Francisco Lachowski.

         ✧ Bellamy ⟶ What’s in a name? For Bellamy, a wealth of self-discovery, definitions laid out ahead of him at birth, a path his feet have never wavered from. Fine Friend his mother called him, and perhaps bought upon them all their disappointment in his gentility with a name bereft of the thorns they so coveted. Fine Friend he was named, and so he lives, a shoulder for everyone’s burden while he struggles solitary with his own.

         ✧ Santa-Domingo ⟶ Saint of the Lord, he is labelled; baptised in the blood of his family, the holy mandate by which his father demands respect. What is a saint, after all but someone to venerate, to esteem, graced by God? But Bellamy knows that that is but the least of what a saint is, for saints are pained and fragile things burned in holy fire, martyrs all; sacrificial lambs to the glory of God — and the truest god his family bends knee to is that known as Montague.

        ✧ Benvolio ⟶ Thrice he is named and the third feels like a lie, ashes on his brow. Well-wisher they call him, Benevolence — yet they would ask him to be anything but. He feels the hollowness of the name as Damiano settles it on his shoulders, the calculated sop to his reluctance and he wonders how long he will be allowed to keep the illusion of truth before he must sacrifice it on Damiano’s altar, how long before the name is nothing but mocking contempt of the perceived weakness of his dream ( he knows too well how often in war softness becomes synonymous with weakness ).

What drew you to this character? | Benvolio was the first of the open characters I read, and I think that reading is probably what tipped me from considering the rp for the future to immediately applying. Even as I read through the rest of the open characters, I kept returning to the tab with his bio in it. While I did briefly consider Halcyon instead, I think my choice was pre-determined from the start.

Bellamy touches a lot tropes that I love to play with; Rogue once summed up one of my main types as ‘Damaged boys with daddy issues’ and on that Bellamy is almost a solid bullseye, the tragic figure of Atlas carrying everyone else’s burdens. There are conflicts within him, conflicts and contradictions that pull him in different directions, forcing him to play a delicate, and exhausting, balancing act in order to keep himself whole. Criminal yet cop, loyal yet selfish, duty yet refusal, peaceful yet fighter, ideals yet realistic — the inability to reconcile the disparate portions of himself leaves him feeling hollow with self-loathing as he counts his sins ten times over and values his virtues at half their rate.  Bellamy has ever been thus, a duality at war with himself; as play-Mercutio says: “Nay, an there were two [of you], we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other!”

APatroclus saddled with two Achilles to save from their own divinity, Bellamy is irredeemably entangled with his closest friends, unfailingly loyal and dependable. Roman and Marcello are his heart and soul, his very being — and yet he left. Oh, he came back, and the texts and emails flew thick and fast in his absence, yet still, he left, leaving them bereft in the middle of war. An abandonment — necessary, yes, but ultimately selfish, running to save himself without those who he would gladly lay down his life for.

Yet Benvolio’s biggest contradictions, deepest complexities lie in the very area that most would dismiss as his simplest aspect: his kindness, his softness, his gentility. So often, these traits are those that people write off, dismiss as naïveté or innocence, chalk up to an ignorance or blindness of the darkness of the world. Bellamy is none of those things, was never given the luxury of being unaware. Even as a child, the war shaped his life; even as a youth he knew too much of blood and cruelness and the rotted heart of Verona.  

No, Bellamy is not kind out of some innate inability to see otherwise, some childlike artlessness that means he could never be aught else — he chooses to be kind, he chooses to trust; and he does it in the full and grim understanding that doing so is the emotional equivalent of sticking your hand in the fire and asking it not to burn you. He chooses it because it allows him to live with himself, wears it as an armour that keeps him from breaking, because whatever cost he pays in scars for that gentility, however much he kicks himself for an idiot when it blows up in his face… if he chose otherwise would he ever be able to find his way back?

Likewise many dismiss his voice when he raises it for peace — idealist they call him, young they scoff at him, yet sometimes Benvolio feels like he’s the only one at all who sees. They celebrate victory while he counts bodies, count winnings while he watches the city crumble. He wonders when they all stopped seeing people and started seeing gold instead, when costs stopped being about finance and were first paid in blood. Could they not see that this tragedy was leading nowhere, that this tit-for-tat, blood-for-blood would only end with all of them blind? Could they not see that they were past the point where a victory could be anything more than Pyrrhic?

A warrior for peace; an absurd idea really, almost hypocritical, almost oxymoronic in nature, and yet, and yet — Benvolio learned, as the war poets learned ( battered paperbacks of Owen and Sassoon accompany him around the world, the margins slowly filled with all manner of scrawled notes in different colours of ink ) that people will dismiss the words of a non-combatant as cowardly, that only by engaging in the very thing they wished to end could they earn the right to speak out against it, that only by speaking from alongside them would the war-torn hear his voice. And so he takes his place in the trenches, stands shoulder to shoulder with his comrades and tries not to think too much about what they do, so that, one day, he will be able to end it for all. If the cost for the whole of Verona is his own blood spilled, his own soul crushed, how can he refuse to pay it? And yet how can he survive its paying?

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

✘ dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori⟶  ( price of duty )

Sitting in that airport, staring down at his phone as it rang, Mama picked out on the screen, his thumb hovered over the red end call button as he fought with despair. He could go, he knew, could let the message go to voice mail and answer the boarding call for his flight instead, jump another flight at the other end and head to the Andes, the Sahara, the Australian Outback. Say he hadn’t gotten the message, had been out of signal range. It would be easy, simple.

He’d plead conscientious objector to get out four years ago, but now the piper has come due. He answers the phone ( had it always been this heavy? ) halfway through the final ring and allows himself to be conscripted.

Bellamy has always been dutiful, responsible, loyal. Innately, intrinsically, he puts his duties and friends ahead of himself time and again, often at the cost of his own self, his own soul. A soldier in a war he despises, fighting a battle he despairs of no matter the outcome, Bellamy is quickly approaching the point where duty and ideals will clash more and more heavily, where he will no longer be able to wiggle through loopholes or forge a middle path. One day, war and duty and loyalty will push him, without mercy or respite, to the moment he dreads most, will require him to do something he doesn’t know if he’s capable of living with.

His hands are going to get dirty, and he fears he’s too brittle to survive it ( he fears he may not have as much issue with it as he should ).

✘ i would know him in death, at the end of the world ⟶ ( friends )

They are many and yet one, together and undivided since a time of vague memories and impressions. Bellamy doesn’t remember meeting Roman or Marcello, can’t recall a time when they weren’t sashaying into trouble together. Their bond is inviolate, one of the surest things in Bellamy’s life and by far the most precious.

They have always been inseparable — and yet they separated.

Bellamy parted them, and when he came back there was a harshness to the light inside his friends, as though the warm light of the sun had turned to nuclear glow; the fires of war. ( He wonders if that will be him in a couple of years. ) There are cracks in all of them now, cracks in their souls and their bond, even as they pass the whiskey bottle between themselves and try to pretend that nothing has changed.

Bellamy blames himself. He left, he thinks, and that laid the first crack between them. Now, he struggles to deal with that betrayal as he sees it, trying to amend for it by taking more and more for his friends, his brothers, while squashing all his own needs ( pretends he is naught but the balm and bandage as he bleeds out himself ) — how could he ask them for aught, now?

Cracks can be fixed, but Bellamy needs to learn again to take as well as offer, before he subsumes himself under everyone else’s needs and is killed by his own gone unmet.

✘ forgive me father, for i am only fucking human ⟶ ( loyalty challenged )

Mark Twain once said “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner who needed it most?” and those words have always resonated for Bellamy, printed large on his heart. Odin has done appalling things, he knows, things that should maybe be unforgivable, but if he is trying to make amends then can Bellamy do aught but help him? Sinners need forgiveness far more than good men ( sinners are who forgiveness was made for ) and so he listens, and absolves him in his heart as they sit in a patrol car on a dark street sucking spilled take-out sauce off their fingers.

And yet in this day, when the merest of mercies to the other side raises cries of fraternisation and both sides lay pressure upon pressure on their soldiers to prove their loyalty he wonders if perhaps this will be the thing that causes them both to burn. They have no choice in who they share a car with but he wonders if that will matter before paranoia has run its course and they have done more than that, haven’t they? Drowned their sorrows together, doused themselves in the whiskey that may yet fuel their funeral pyre — and yet if Odin asks for help, can Bellamy do aught but hold a hand out to him? A lifeline, a hangman’s noose, rolled into one.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes - but not until I’m so attached that it will break my heart. GRRM says that you should mourn when a character dies, that you should care and that sort of attachment I feel is one that takes time to develop. But oh yes, I’m definitely okay with charactercide - just with an initial cooldown period please!

In Depth

What is your favourite place —

His favourite place? His mind swirls, an agitated snowstorm of images: the hot sun on his back as he sits on the ancient stairs in front of the Parthenon; the bright, airy, treasure-filled rooms of the British Museum; the serene weightlessness of floating in the Dead Sea; the sky shaded a brilliant sunset on a beach in Brazil, cocktail in hand…

— in Verona?

The rider on the question brings his thoughts to a sudden halt, leaves an echoing quiet in his brain. His favourite place in Verona? The city he’d run from as soon as he was able and had never wished to revisit?

As a child, Bellamy had fallen in love with Verona’s Library: the arching ceilings, the ornate decoration, the heavy books bound in rich and sometimes flaking leather, the dry and musty smell of ancient pages holding the words of worlds and centuries. It felt… reverent, almost Holy.

And then he’d learned of what lay upstairs, that above the rooms devoted to knowledge, to history, to making sure humans never forgot the mistakes of the past, Damiano and his court engaged in the deliberate repetition of humanity’s greatest fuck up. And then all it felt was tainted, sacrilegious.

As a teen, he’d come to love Castelveccio Bridge for the fragile peace that surrounded it. He’d perch on the edge with a book, back up against one of the buttresses, and let the river wind rustle his hair as he read or skimmed stones, or, later, passed around a bottle of jack with his friends.

But that too was marred now, stained in so much blood and death, and he wonders if there is anywhere in the city that has not been spoiled by this abominable feud.

“ To Tame A Soup, ” he says, eventually “ I guess. At least some good comes of it. But really, this whole city, it’s…” he shakes his head with a sigh, gesturing at the woman to continue.

What does your typical day look like?

He’s sprawled across the couch in the police therapist’s office; one leg dangles half-off, just enough for the toe of his boot to brush the floor, the other ankle resting on the armrest, one arm over the back of the couch. His sister always wondered why he was so neat and tidy in his living, books alphabetised, everything in its place, yet just threw himself in a pile where ever he landed ( he doesn’t tell her its because his books are actually worth taking care with ).

( He wonders what would happen if he deliberately failed this review, what Damiano would do if he got himself sent home on mental health leave — but then, he’s probably already bought out the shrink. )

“ Much the same as anyone else’s, probably. ” He tips his head back over the armrest to look at her, upside down. “ Work, food, sleep, a book here and there… I adopted a cat last week, so there’s that. ”

What has been your biggest mistake?

“ Coming back. ” The worlds fall out before he can stop them, almost tripping over the end of the question in their hurry to break free. For a moment he wonders if he should take it back, prevaricate, maybe say that leaving had been worse ( though nothing in his life had ever felt so right as that moment the plane had lifted from the ground ). But — no, there is no need. If she was in the Montague pocket then well… Damiano, the rest… they already knew how he felt about being back. And if she wasn’t reporting, what did it matter?

She watches him for a moment, as though expecting him to elaborate, but when he doesn’t she moves onto the next question with a faint sigh.

What has been the most difficult task asked of you thus far?

“ The same, ” he says, mussing up his hair with one hand. Uneasiness pricks him; it’s far too difficult to ignore the foreboding in the words thus far. He’s well aware that so far, he hasn’t been asked for anything completely outside his comfort zone, that, for whatever reason, the hardest of his boundaries have been respected. He thinks he might have Roman’s influence to thank for that, but he doubts it will last. No, more than that, he knows it won’t. And, as much as he wants to reassure himself that when it comes to it he will do what is right… some part of him, buried deep, knows that he’ll answer the call.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

There is a freedom in this answer, for as neither Bellamy nor Benvolio has he ever hidden his opinion on this front. “ It’s bloody fucking stupid, isn’t it. ” He snorts, then sighs and waves a hand. “ No one even remembers what started the whole thing off, and it’s well past the point where anyone can actually win anything… even if one side cleared up tomorrow, more has been lost than they’d ever get back so what’s the bloody point? At this point it’s just mutually assured destruction.” He sighs, and wilts a bit. “ Not that either side will ever admit that. ”

Extras: Pinterest board

[radiowrites]

Beautiful Liar

He would settle the mask of lies on his face and tell himself that it was all meant to be. 

Read it on: AO3.org / FF.net / Below the cut!

[Ghost Hunt fanfiction short story. 4300 words, three chapters in the links above - one whole piece below. Koujo Lin. Pre-series, set before 1997. Originally written on 11-24-15. Heavily inspired by the music video with the same name by VIXX LR. I guess it’s a fanfiction of the MV, too...?]

Part I

Koujo Lin stood in front of a nondescript office building crammed between two identical structures.

Though Lin was well versed with the history and studies of the SPR, he had never visited its British headquarters. Perhaps he had never really intended to. He considered his training to be quite complete. One could even say his family was well known for producing fine sorcerers.

He had been in England for three months, and it had been a surprise to learn that the professor Lin had attended lectures from was a parapsychologist on the side. The man had invited Lin to visit the SPR. The professor was interesting and had earned Lin’s respect. The professor did not shy away like most people.

That was because most people did not know why Lin frightened them. They only knew that sometimes things worked in his favor in a way that was difficult to explain. The professor was well aware of the dark arts and the like that Lin practiced.

These dark arts were the presence of his shiki in the back of his mind, floating in the ether, hollow and ready to be filled with his commands. They held no physical forms, had no voices.

The street was quiet, and Lin could feel the eyes of curious office workers looking through slatted blinds on the other buildings. He was certain that the watchers had seen far stranger visitors to the SPR than this tall man of Chinese descent dressed in a simple black business suit. The only thing that could be remembered as unique was the fringe of sleek black hair that covered one eye.

The door opened to a short balding man in his late forties with a beaming grin.

“Mr. Koujo,” the portly man shook his hand vigorously, though he was barely holding on to the tips of Lin’s fingers. “I’m Jeffrey Smith, and we are so glad to have you here. Welcome to the Society for Psychical Research.”

“It’s Lin –”

“Of course, and you can call me Jeffrey. We’re all on a first name basis here too. Come in. So you’re from China?”

Lin hesitated on the stoop for a moment, a frown directed at the man’s back as he went inside, expecting Lin to follow. Lin was used to being referred to from his surname as a level of respect. He had never had someone mistake it as his given name before. “Actually,” he said as he entered the building and remembered to answer Jeffrey’s question, “Hong Kong.”

“Oh, so you’re practically British already. You’ll fit right in.”

Lin had to remind himself that it was self-indulgent to have a shiki wring Jeffrey’s neck for such a minor offense.

Jeffrey took Lin’s elbow – though he barely came to Lin’s shoulder – and started leading him down the hallway. “Let me show you around quickly. Headquarters isn’t too big, as you can see. You look so young. I’ve heard you control shiki already? How many?”

It had been a small hope that a society for psychic research didn’t linger on idle talk. “I control many,” Lin said. The lie was thick on his tongue. If there was someone who wanted to cause him trouble, how many shiki he controlled would be a valuable asset, so it was information he didn’t give away easily.

And he only had three so far.

“That would be such a stress at any age. You must be very balanced.”

Before he could reply to Jeffrey, the older man muttered, “Speaking of young…” He let go of Lin’s arm and backed up a few paces where they had passed a stairwell going up. Two young boys sat on the sixth step up. The twins – for that was clearly what they were – looked to be barely over the age of twelve, and were of Asian descent.

Jeffrey clapped his hands when they didn’t acknowledge him. “Boys! Where is your father?”

 “He went to get a cup of coffee,” one of the boys said. Lin thought he could detect a hint of an American accent, though he wasn’t well enough versed to know exactly where. The silent boy wore a mask of indifference, something Lin was well practiced in.

“Then you should be in the office he’s using, not out here,” Jeffrey said. From the abrupt tone in his voice, Lin had a feeling that Jeffrey was even worse with kids than he was.

“He locked us out,” the first boy said, the only one who had spoken so far.

“On purpose?” Jeffrey asked.

“No,” said the first boy.

“Yes,” said the mirror image of him at the same time.

They looked at each other, then repeated together, “No.”

“So if you just unlock the door sir, we’ll get out of your hair.”

Jeffrey shook his head. “I don’t have the key to that office; you’ll have to wait on him. Please stay out of trouble.”

The quiet boy watched Lin with cold eyes. The boys were Japanese, but Lin did not know where the thought had surfaced from. He felt a swell of fierce loyalty to his grandmother and horrific stories she had told about the war.

Lin sensed a shiki come to attention without a request from him. The talkative boy looked at Lin, or more specifically, past his shoulder. The boy turned away, the faintest shudder passing through his small body. The fact that a shiki had materialized enough for the boy to sense it alarmed Lin.

Jeffrey had taken off down the hallway, though with his stature, he had not gotten very far before Lin’s long strides met up with him.

“You watch out for those two,” Jeffrey said, throwing a glance over his shoulder, presumably to make sure the children were not following them. “Especially the older one. Or is it the younger one? How are you supposed to know that, anyway? Orphan twin boys, could have been mixed up at birth, for all they know.”

“They’re adopted?” Lin asked.

“Yes, they’re Martin’s boys. Whatever possessed him and Luella to adopt them is beyond me. They only look like trouble and heartache to me.”

…

About the time that Lin was ready to leave – or escape, Martin Davis came in through a side door to the kitchen. Davis was older than one would have expected by the youth of the two boys. Behind Davis was a young woman with dark cherry-colored hair. She looked too young to be his wife, so there was a good chance she was adopted too. Lin ignored the smile she tried to give him.

Davis came up short, a cup of take-out coffee in one hand. “Oh, Mr. Lin – I didn’t know you were coming today.” He transferred the coffee to his left and offered his free hand. Lin took it. It was a firm, confident handshake. “I’m glad you were able to make it. This is my associate Madoka Mori. I trust Jeffrey didn’t bore you?”

 “No, he was very informative.” And he was dropping gossip about you to a complete stranger, you probably should be aware of that.

Davis looked at him, a steady gaze, and proved there were levels of intelligence and strength in any society, big or small. Lin felt the urge to sit down on the steps and tell this man his problems, with Vivian, with moving from his home country, and from his third shiki…

So he thanked Davis, letting him know he would be in touch, and left.

Part II

Vivian wasn’t home yet. Lin dropped onto the bed without bothering to turn on the lamp. In front of him, the mirrored closet doors caught the light of the hallway, throwing shadows across his face in the reflection. His good eye glinted. It was wrong to have a mirror facing the bed. It invited the third party into your sleeping space.

Maybe he just disliked mirrors all together, because sometimes the shadows moved differently than they did in the real world.

Stopping at the SPR had been a waste of time. It was basically Jeffrey not knowing what to do with Lin, and yet wanting to not lose hold of him. They’ll try to get Lin on a team, if research was what he was interested in. Or he could apply for some grant money if he had projects to work on. Or, Jeffrey had continued, peering at Lin’s fringe of hair, if Lin wanted to have people study him instead…

Why isn’t she home. The thought came unbidden, and the angry undercurrents made it a statement, not a question. Lin could not push the irritation aside.

Jeffrey had called him balanced. Lin believed the last time he had been balanced was before he had left Hong Kong, before he had added the third shiki.

Shiki were hollow. They should be empty and detached until he was ready to use them. When Lin probed the presence, the third shiki felt…full. Of emotion.

Lin had been upset during the preparation and through the ritual. Vivian and his relationship had been rocky again even though they were not only moving in with each other, but out of the country as well. He was angry about the changes coming to his home country, how he was being forced to move if he wanted to keep his ways of life. He had wanted one more shiki before leaving for England, as if the shiki gained later on in another country would be somehow different.

It was possible that the lack of control in his own life slipped through into the spiritual ties with the shiki, that he had transferred these very human emotions right into the being. And Lin didn’t know what to do about it.

In reality, he needed the master, his grandfather, who had passed away suddenly three years ago. The death certificate said it was a stroke. Lin knew it was from a shiki his grandfather had lost control of. It was very possible that was the path Lin was heading down.

 The front door to the apartment clicked open. Her soft steps came closer down the hallway, and he heard them hesitate in the doorway. She turned the light on.

“Koujo, you’re home,” Vivian said in Cantonese. When they were young, they were taught English in school, but it was a comfort to drop into the language of their heritage. “How was the SPR?”

He could see her in the reflection. Her glossy black hair was pulled up, her eye makeup done to exaggerate her eyes. Her mother had named her Vivian after some actress – which one, Vivian wasn’t sure; the story had changed every time it was told. Her family’s elders had been appalled that a child could be named on a whim. Her mother had said it was simply being prepared for the time they would leave Hong Kong, which was inevitable due to the Chinese takeover.

“They seemed impressed by the paperwork I sent to them,” Lin said. “Yet they didn’t know what to do with me. The man who showed me around looked like he hadn’t done any field work in a decade.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. After a pause, a tentative smile crossed her face. “You’ll be pleased I found a job. It’s a modeling gig. He said that my face was exactly what he was looking for.”

“Of course he would, Vivian.” Lin turned around and her smile quickly faded. “Just another foreigner with an Asian fetish.”

“Maybe you’ve forgotten that we’re the foreigners here, Koujo. What was I supposed to do? You didn’t want me just sitting around the apartment.”

“But was your only option to sell yourself?”

“I didn’t –”

“Was I just your free ride out of the country?”

She stiffened. “Look, it’s just a few pictures for a catalog. Some type of artisan jewelry. It’s not like I’m taking off my clothes!” By the end of the last sentence, her voice had risen in pitch. She heaved in a breath. “Why do you always assume the worst when it comes to me? What have I done to earn your distrust?”

Tears she could not hold back marred her makeup, and she spun on her heel.

When he heard the bathroom door slam down the hall, he dropped his head and leaned his elbows on his thighs. He hadn’t paid her way. Vivian had plenty of her own family money. Why did he always lash out at her?

Lin looked up and he could almost see the outline of a shiki behind him. The shadows curved around the preternatural being like a water droplet.

He closed his eyes, slowed his breath, and attempted to settle his mind.

 Lin sat up when Vivian reappeared in the doorway. Because of the way the room was situated, she had to walk past him as she went to her small dresser. She handed a card to him as she went by, not taking the time to notice if he took it or not.

The paper was dark, and Wedding Invitation was written in silver foil across the front. “What’s this?”

“My cousin is getting married. I forgot to tell you. My aunt gave me the invitation this morning.”

If Vivian’s mother had been odd according to the elders, she had nothing on her older sister, who had up and moved to England a quarter of a century ago. Her youngest of three boys had been born here, and he was the one getting married.

Vivian and Lin had carefully not discussed marriage, and the unexpected invitation in his hand had brought the topic into focus. They should have been entertaining the thought by now. He opened the envelope, and saw that it was only addressed to her. Apparently her family had never planned on him marrying her.

He had intended on marrying her once.

She went to the wrought iron hat rack in the corner and started pulling off clothes she had strewn on it. She could have been simply looking for an outfit for tomorrow. Or she could already be packing to move out. The clothes accumulated into a pile on the floor until she sat down on the bed behind him, her body language sharp and irritated. He shouldn’t have been able to see her drop her head into her hands, but the mirror violated that privacy. She looked up and their eyes met through the reflection.

“Just go away, please,” she said.

Lin inclined his head, watching his face through a lowered eyelid in the mirror. His expression was emotionless, except for the taut lines around the corners of his mouth and eyes. Beautiful memories were being tainted as he struggled to remember why they were together in the first place. Would she be happier if he just let her go?

In the kitchen, the phone rang. She made no move, so he left the bedroom to answer it.

“Hello?”

“This is Martin Davis speaking. Have I reached Koujo Lin?”

“Yes. What can I do for you, Mr. Davis?”

“I want to offer you a side job. Outside of the SPR. If you are interested.” Davis’ sentences held an agitated undertone. “It’s one of my sons. His abilities are…well, I certainly won’t boast them as unique. But they are unusual, and he needs to learn how to control them.”

“I doubt I’m qualified, Mr. Davis,” Lin said, though he knew there was a very good chance he would be.

“That was quick,” Davis said. “I thought you would have at least waited to meet with him once.”

The problem was Lin had already met them. “I’m not good with children,” he said. Especially Japanese children.

“That would not be a problem. Oliver is more mature than most adults I meet.”

Lin was sure every parent said that at one time or another, whether the child was of their own blood or not. But to deny this opportunity would be a step backwards from the direction he was wanted to take.

“Would tomorrow be all right with you?” Lin asked.

“Yes, the hospital does not intend on holding him overnight.” Davis rattled off the address.

Lin stood there holding the phone after Davis was gone, trying to process the last statement.

…

The dinner dishes had been cleared but Lin and Vivian still sat across from each other at the small table. The hanging light above them was lightly swinging back and forth. Maybe a breeze was filtering in through the open window.

Vivian leaned forward to take his hand, and he instinctively pulled away. Her shoulders slumped as she stood up.

Lin almost reached for her hands. He assumed pride made him hesitate.

“I’ll spend the night at my Aunt’s,” she said. “Good night.”

 That night, he dreamed.

A man sat next to him on the end of the bed. They didn’t look at each other directly, instead making eye contact in the mirror before them. His face was similar to Lin’s in the way that each artist would draw a face differently when given a basic description. Minor changes in the cheekbones and jaw line made the face a different man. Then the artist had added flairs of their own: the other man’s hair was stark white, and both of his eyes were visible. They were an electric blue, like the eye that Lin kept so carefully hidden. The man smiled at him in the mirror. His teeth gleamed white, contrasting with a brightly colored suit. Red and blue clashed in an erratic tie-dye pattern.

Lin liked black. It was professional. It didn’t draw the imagination back to soothsayers found in the dark corners of brightly lit festivals.

Behind them, Vivian slept fitfully in a white silk nightgown that bared her thighs. The other man slid off of the bed and came around close to her. He leaned down, a hand straddled over her waist. He hovered over her lips, but he didn’t touch her. She gasped softly in her sleep.

“Don’t let her go,” the other man murmured. “She’s a good catch. Obedient, if trained right. I want you to keep her.”

Lin found himself agreeing with him.

Lin sat up with a quick intake of breath, completely alone, and still jumped at his reflection across the bed. His hair was tousled away from his face, and he had an alarming sensation that the mismatched eyes were no longer his own.

Part III

The next morning, he found Vivian at the door, not proud and composed as he expected, but a mess of tears.

“I need to talk to you,” she said.

She paused in the kitchen, and wiped her tears on her sleeve. It didn’t stem the flow. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Walking out last night wasn’t the answer.”

Vivian came close and cupped his face.  This wasn’t what Lin had anticipated. It was not how their last serious argument had panned out. He wondered, suddenly, if she had dreamed last night.

He lowered his gaze. It felt wrong to meet her eyes.

Vivian let go and collapsed into a kitchen chair. As she ran her fingers through her untidy hair, she said, “I guess I expected you to take your words back. That was stupid of me.”

He nodded. His body ached with the falsehoods he was piling on his shoulders, and his heart shuddered against the cage he secured it in. It didn’t matter anymore what he wanted. Her well being was what mattered.

 “I guess it is not fixable this time,” he said, and smiled wanly. He hoped it looked authentic, because it felt like thin plastic film was across his face, holding everything in place.

He sat down across from her, and she slid her house key across the table. The keychain was a brass padlock with its own heart-shaped key. It gleamed from the light overhead, taunting him. She had left the keychain on since he had given it to her.

As he reached for the key, the shiki in its human garb was there, standing at the table between them. He slapped it away from Lin’s outstretched fingers. The brass clinked onto the floor.

Lin blinked, and the keys were still on the table, for the shiki could not yet manipulate the physical realm.

Vivian twitched, as if she had heard the sound too. She looked up, and seemed to stare right at the shiki’s face. Then her eyes shifted away to Lin. They were unfocused and hurt.

It’s alright if you leave, Lin thought.

She got up and started down to the short hallway to the front door. The shiki started after her.

Lin caught its wrist. The shiki snarled as it jerked and twisted. When the shiki had almost escaped Lin leapt up and pinned its arms, and was tossed off with another growl.

Lin still held its wrist, and was forcibly dragged down the hall.

He could feel the pain in his arms, and he had to question if his body was actually still just sitting at the table.

 When he heard the front door open, then shut, he grabbed at the shiki’s legs and upended the demon. He soon had an arm around the shiki’s neck and his legs around its waist as it struggled.

Lin could feel love and fury, rage and desire churning through the being, and in turn, himself. It seemed like it wanted to speak, to make Lin understand, but Lin shut it out. Communicating with a shiki outside of a command was a dangerous dead end. When it seemed to know that Lin was not going to give it an audience, it attempted to rake its fingernails – which were now claws – over Lin’s face.

Every person had their own way to cut a spiritual cord. If the cord was thick from a good relationship that had gone sour, it could rebound on you if cut suddenly, causing physical pain. In the past, Lin had allowed during meditation a candle flame to gently eat away at cords that no longer served him. It let the strands go one by one, and when there was only one left it just fell away.

If there was the first plane of existence – where Lin’s body still sat, watching the door with a brooding despair – and the second plane was where this fight was taking place, yet another level came into prospective – where the shiki and he stood, calmly.

The shiki embraced Lin.

Don’t do it, it whispered into his ear, and Lin could feel its sharp teeth at his neck.

Lin imagined a machete and hacked at the cord which bound him and the third shiki together.

The shiki gasped and choked, though if it was from the cord being cut or from the arm that was blocking his windpipe, it was uncertain. The shiki should never have had the physical presence to feel the pain the lack of breath was causing.

The first hit didn’t sever the cord.

The second strike did.

The shiki melted from his hands, and reassembled into a vague shape behind Lin. Lin turned without getting up, watching the shiki fade as it walked, or rather stumbled away.

The remaining two shiki were silent. They did not have a concept of camaraderie. 

Lin, still sitting on the kitchen floor, closed his eyes. Weariness settled into his body from the violent removal. He tried to visualize Vivian happy and moved on from their relationship. The images wouldn’t come.

There was a flicker of hope that she would come back in, say one more time that they could make this work. He had no right for that thought, since he had already rebuffed the offer. He had done so for her safety and freedom, but that wasn’t something she was aware of. He had come to terms that he had never shared enough with her. Yes, his craft was a secretive work, but if he had allowed her to support him at times, maybe he would not be on the floor after the breakup, wishing there was a way to fix it.

He felt their spiritual cord snap. He had not prepared for it, so the sudden hollow ache in his heart hit him hard.

He knew tears were in his eyes, but he didn’t allow them to spill over. The cord had been tainted by the wants of the shiki, so the fact it had been broken wasn’t wrong. They could easily forge a new one, if he got up, followed her, and apologized. For everything.

In front of her aunt and cousins, who would see a broken man incapable of living without a woman.

In front of his remaining shiki, who might just be paying more attention than he gave credit to.

In front of the memory of his father, who had said to never grovel for a woman. Don’t give her that power over you.

The phone rang. It took all of Lin’s remaining energy to get up.

“My cousins will pick up my possessions tomorrow,” Vivian said. There was no pain in her voice. She sounded happier than she had been in months. If it was an act or the truth, he had no right to ask.

“I won’t be home,” he said. His voice was smooth and steady. “I will leave the door unlocked.”

He knew he had given free rein to protective men who viewed Vivian as a sister, but at that moment, he didn’t care if they emptied the whole apartment. He had nothing to lose.

There was no more conversation. They simply said good bye.

 He returned to the bedroom. To shatter the mirror was tempting but not worth giving an explanation to the landlord.

He stopped and examined his face, with its reddened, shining eye. He wondered if the other was capable of tears. The question should have been absurd, but he suddenly couldn’t remember the last time he had shed tears.

He wiped his hand across his face and smiled in the mirror. The expression was not believable, so he let it slip.

“I won’t miss her,” he told the reflection.

What a liar.

 “No woman is worth chasing after.”

Oh, and a coward as well.