#orter's parents suck

[ansbobcar]

EP 21 - From hell with pettiness

WORD COUNT. 2618

Link to overview

_ _ _ _ _

There’s this repetition for the next 2 nights, petty nuisances, regarding her room, dress and meals. Regardless of how many times she encountered them, she seemed to burn through them with ease. Almost naturally.

“Didn’t you know?” She uttered, kicking her feet impatiently from the desk. “I saw her take it with a smile—a smile!”

He watched her take a sip of the red wine with ease, noticing the patience of his parents growing increasingly thin through the atmosphere of the hall. Yet she only coughed mildly.

“It’s sweet,” she mused. “Do you prefer white wine, madame?”

The guise of their discrimination seemed so trivial to her. Even though hours later, when he woke up to the sound of her vomiting out her insides, her voice heaved with confident conviction, “It’s merely a simple poison. I—can handle it.”

“Poison?” He uttered in repetition. Furrowing his brows. Nobody should let their body naturally handle poison, especially if it’s without an antidote. She snapped her head towards him. “You… you do know you could jail them for assassination right?” The incandescent sheen from his wand traced her sullied dress like a ghost.

“Then why haven’t you?”

His heart plummeted at these words, as she slowly stood up. Each step across the cold tiles she took increased the heaviness of his lungs and wrung his airway as he planted his feet just a lunge away from the door. Why didn’t he? It wasn’t like he saw any of them—no. He saw him do it once. “Look away Orter,” as the man collapsed and morphed into a measly puddle. Why didn’t he call out to his father? 

“You’re hesitating,” bright yellow eyes, stared right at him. An unnatural vigour lit within as if they had solved him.

“You’ve always hesitated, haven’t you?”

That night was particularly cold to sleep through as he replayed the stressful conversation over dinner.

“Are you perhaps considering a future with him?” His mother wondered, as she placed another cut of the roasted duck in her mouth. He forgot about this problem as he only continued to cut through his meal. ‘No,’ wishing he could clutch onto some fabric; ‘It would be bad if they caught onto the lie.’ He could only assume that Rinka Ontarin, dressed in periwinkle blue, would do what was best. Watching as she stopped her sizzling cuts to look directly at the older woman.

“And what if I did?”

“What did your family say?” 

“My mother doesn’t oppose the idea,” of which he couldn’t verify himself. He’d just have to trust her.

“What about your father?” She added, as she simply took a brief moment to reply.

“What father?” 

Unable to contain it any further, his mother’s face contorted with vile displeasure. “Don’t you know you are putting yourselves in a precarious situation by being together?” 

“No shit,” he finally spoke up much to her anger. “We’re Divine Visionaries.” 

“Don’t talk back at your mother--" A hand stopped her from continuing onwards. His father had intervened.

“What she’s trying to say is to address a key concern we have to your… girlfriend,” he reiterated before facing towards Rinka. “I presume you don’t remember since it’s been years,” a concerning sense of familiarity pervaded his words, “but… aren’t you still in mourning?”

“It’s been more than a decade since,” picking up her knife again. As if she hadn’t been offended by his statement. “My only obligation is towards the Bureau and my own mother.”

“If you want to kill me to set up your son again. You’ll have to bet higher,” she snickered at the old man.

If he had to bet his life in a quiz about how well he knew this woman, he might as well have died with the dread that accompanied him the following night. 

_ _ _

Rinka had a ghostly appearance, with her makeup of faint rosy cheeks and dull pink lips heightening her pale complexion as she wore a bright white dress which hugged her torso before fluttering into two tiers of ruffled skirts and slowly turning a murky brown. This was restored just moments ago as they entered the carriage.

“Are you cold?” It was already six and yet the sun was slowly dying itself earlier than expected during their journey. She simply shook her head, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress as she stared out the window. “Is there anything you’re worried about?” He tried again.

“Probably… ruining this dress,” she sheepishly remarked before the similar distant gaze fell onto her face. “Additionally, did you have a plan for the rest of the evening?”

“... no not really. I’m sorry about that.”

“Because, I know… aristocrats don’t particular enjoy my presence. So I’m intrigued at how committed you are.”

“Why wouldn’t I commit?” Uneasy from her words from the night. “There’s more to lose if we get separated. After all, you’re too kind for your own good.”

“Even if I’m mean sometimes?”

“You only do that when necessary.”

“What about how I treat certain people?”

“Kaldo deserves it.”

She chuckled at his response, while noticing his shivering. ‘Is that why he asked me?’ She told herself. “Would you let me hold you in the meantime?” She asked him for permission. And he let’s her cup his face. Her fingertips are oddly warm, and… he relished at the touch.

A hushed whisper only for her ears, he had asked once more, “Are you really not the sun?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Your attitude at work is bright and inviting compared to everyone else, your hair shines like stardust in the hallways, and you’re always warm to the touch…”

“Would you kill the current sun if I were the sun?” Her thumb caresses his cheek.

He chuckled at her trivial question. “I meant it metaphorically.”

By the time they had arrived at the ball, it had already started. For an hour perhaps. He lent out his hand towards her as she descended down before linking arms together. Their presence struck (respect) in those around them. Murmurs wash over the crowd as they entered the wide hall.

That is…  until a guard showed up. “Your wands, please,” gloved hands stretched out towards them. And with little resistance, they handed the wands over. “It’s for the safety of our guests,” they were explained by them.

‘The removal of magical tools should be a good thing. As many methods of espionage involve the use of magic. However, it wasn’t like there was anyone who could nullify the effects of magic phenomena to be present…’

“Do you enjoy the attention?” She muttered under her breath as his arm’s position stiffened considerably.

“Not particularly.”

They walked over towards the buffet first and sat down at a table to dine. Unfortunately, they were constantly interrupted by greetings and conversations, which caused him to lose his appetite, sliding over the food towards Rinka without another thought. The others seemed to swarm him with pleasantries and familiar registers. And only him.

‘What if she’s right?’ He wondered as the others finally left them. “You alright?” Looking up to see her scarfing down another spoonful of potato salad. Her face screamed a singular mission as she pivoted her attention towards him. “You’ve barely talked…”

“The food is spectacular,” she covered her mouth, eyes lit up in delight. “Do you remember which family is hosting the event?” 

“I’m not sure,” he replied. ‘Is she seriously only focusing on the food?’

“Why else do you think I agreed to attend beyond meeting your parents?” She leaned towards him. “It’s for the food!” Hiding her snicker, as a humoured smile etched itself on his face. 

“Not for me?” It’s weirdly embarrassing. His parents arrived slightly earlier for unspecified reasons. They were probably trying to treat her as poorly as before to little success. Not that he needed to care about them.

“Well, you’re a great companion to dine with,” she commented, finishing her meal. The sound of the magical orchestra’s melodic tunes reverberated through out the large room. She immediately stood up. “I’m getting more food. You should follow.”

“Alright.”

However, as they walked over to the buffet, another woman had tripped with wine. Staining her white dress. The woman spiralled into an apologetic mess. “It’s fine,” Rinka held onto her hands, simultaneously casting a restoration spell for the glass and a calming spell for her. “It’s only a dress.”

In tandem, Orter had already began to mutter a cleaning spell to make it spotless again. The sight amazed spectators nearby. After all, casting magic without tools requires skills. ‘They lived up to their title as Divine Visionaries.’

“Thank you, Orter.”

They ended up watching the ballroom dance area, and he noticed her intense gaze at its dancers. Right, he forgot. “Do you dance?” He asked her. She turned towards him. “I can.”

Holding out his hand towards her, he continued, “Would you like to?”

There’s a sense of earnestness in his eyes and gesture, she could tell as the strings heightened their sound. She grabbed onto his hand, “I’ll accept your lead then,” it would be a waste not to, as she was guided forward. Hands held together in one side, and for her other hand it was on his shoulder and his rested right above her hip.

Their feet were gliding across the floor with ease, weaving through the other dancers with barely any errors. Their motions, wide yet precise completely enraptured onlookers to watch them as the music continued. Yet, there is something odd. Perhaps it’s the way he’s constantly switching styles and paces. ‘Stick with one will you?’ As she quickened the pace to the percussion’s rhythm. “How about quick step?”

“You’ve learnt it?”

“When I was younger.”

The routine is revised, with another bet slipped into their dance. Who could last the longest? Unfortunately, after nearly an hour of amateur competitive dancing, Orter who took back the lead, ended the session amidst a sea of applause.

‘I forgot she stayed awake for the whole trip up here.’

“Not bad,” she complimented him. “I haven’t danced in ages. That was fun.”

Adrenaline continued to circulate as they tried to head back towards their seats to instill his punishment. “You’re not going to kill me right?” Of course she wouldn’t, walking in tandem with him. Until a deep gruff voice called out to him.

"Greetings, Desert Cane,”  and the light from her eyes were snuffed out as. “It's a pleasure to meet you in person. You're all grown up from the last time I saw you.” She gripped onto his hand even tighter. "That was a wonderful performance you put with your partner I presume,” his dark eyes took a glance towards her before looking back at him.

"Thank you for the praise but I haven't practised in ages."

Her grip loosened from it’s intensity, she leaves him with a simple bow. 'I'm taking a breather,' she messages to him with magic, her face frozen in calmness. He held onto her fingers a bit longer before letting go.

Orter can't shake the feeling that something is terribly terribly wrong. But he can't particularly ignore a person he just began conversing with, especially if it’s a man known as Sears Onoji. Who was biologically Rinka’s father and his own father’s sworn enemy.

Their conversation is trivial as he picked up a glass of wine to drink with the patriarch. Until a light chuckle erupts from the man. “I find it amusing.”

“Indeed, standing here with nothing but a single glass for the past hour is somehow a miracle.”

He smiled quietly at his words, before he added. “I thought you would have known something as simple as her birthday.”

Did he just forget the day? 

His blood ran cold at her father’s words.

“I hope she enjoys her birthday gift.”

_ _ _

Rinka's not easy to budge from her calm facade but that... that wasn't fear. It was absolute obedience. A lack of self. A lack of decision making. No wonder she rarely talked about them. No wonder her mother reacted like that. No wonder she didn't seem to do anything and seemed to not recognise her cousins.

His feet dragged him outside, as he retrieved back their wands. ‘Did she get humiliated?’ Unable to see through the dark until he uttered a simple light spell. Footprints were seen in the snow. Deeper grooves were found and he followed them. The darkness enveloping his small field of vision. 

He can’t. He musn’t. There has to be hope. His chest became elated as he heard a grunt in the distance. Just…

Clad in a pinstriped maroon suit with hair akin to the snow, he held onto the blade piercing his flesh. The subject of his worries had an equally stained torso which seemed to deepen it’s blossoming hues of red camellias. A blank expression haunted her face, like a doll.

“Kaldo, get away from her!” He uttered only to hear him calmly reply as she staggered back, out of her daze.

“The likelihood of me losing to her physically is low. Even… with a wound like this,” noticing her eyes widen at the situation.

Quietly, she muttered, “Were you with…”

“It was the request of your mother. Don’t worry, you handled it well,” he patted her shoulder. “The Gehenna name isn’t as easily tainted after all.”

“But…”

“It’s alright. I wore red for a reason.”

With little time to take back her surroundings, she was pulled into a tight embrace by the youngest. "What happened to you? You were gone for an hour."

"I... I don't remember the specifics but I remember casting a wide range protective spell,” she recounted. “Beyond that, it’s unclear. Maybe I was trying to cool down?"

The flames flickered as a voice called out to her within the shelves. “What are you looking for?”

She had turned her heads towards the owner with her hand held tight onto the ladder.With little time to think, she immediately responded, “Protective spells.” Knowing her, it was odd. Wouldn’t it be better to just amplify one’s physicality? “To prevent physical injuries, I would agree but I’m searching for the ones that counter mental interference. My family specialises in them after all…”

“Protecting others from harm is the least I could do.”

"What's up with you and the Onojis?" Kaldo had filled him in on the details, her near involvement with the very near death of another person.

"I don't think this is the place to discuss such a matter,” she curtly replied. “But if it helps, I’m just holding up my end of the deal.” No. ‘She should be explaining to me what actually happened.’ Not shrugging it off. The atmosphere growing even more tense as he tried to question her.

“The night is ending, I shall notify my family about your stay in our family home,” Kaldo interjected.

“You don’t have to,” Orter politely declined. 

“I doubt you want to encounter either of your families. After all, I saw them discussing earlier,” he emphasised. “So what do you want to do?” Looking over at the two.

“Rinka,” the brunette tried to get her to reply.

“Let’s just stay over at the Gehenna’s for now. We can cover it as a meeting regarding the logistics behind the Divine Visionary Candidates or something. It’s not like they can tear down either of your reputations.” Honestly, Orter thought she would reject the idea but it’s true. “If we move as a group, it’ll make them more cautious to act out like earlier. After all, I’m the biggest liability here.”

“Why?”

With a grim look, she closed her eyes. “That I cannot disclose.”

_ _ _

Lol lol. Longest chapter by far in this fic TwT. Kill me y'all. I hope it was fun. The scene changes were probably a bit too abrupt. Ooh but I did finish EP 24 so we're all set to begin writing for my other mashle fic!