#plus the highly visible still healing wound to the neck

[habitual-creatures]

*Jo, kinda of peering past DIS' furry arm*

KEEP UP, SLOW POKE! I WANNA RELAX WITH A BUNCH OF PILLOWS! MAYBE WATCH A MOVIE! Don't get me wrong, this forest is pretty, but it's cold as FUCK! I can see the porch light just over yonder! And way too many moths.

~Joanne✒️📖

Hiii!!

[impracticaldemon]

Chaos Theory:  Sasuke Ch.3

by impracticaldemon

Author's Note: We have finally reached some serious fluffiness and more than a hint of steam here in the third installment of Ikesen Sasuke & Chieko (my own MC). Maybe we need Chapter 4; or at least an Epilogue ^^.  

Words:  ~ 10,000 Total | ~ 3300 per chapter Full Story is also on:  FFN |  AO3     Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2

gif by imp | image copyright Cybird

Chapter 3:  Chaos Theory

A full minute passed in silence. Sasuke seemed to be listening intently, and I had no idea what to say.

"He's gone," he said at last. "I value Yukimura's friendship very highly, of course, but he is not aware that I am here as a result of a temporal phenomenon. Since it may be difficult for me to contact you in the near future, I thought we should talk about our upcoming trip to Kyoto to await the wormhole." Sasuke looked at me directly for the first time since we'd entered the woods. "I apologize for dragging you away from Azuchi without a proper explanation. However, as Yukimura indicated, the town is dangerous for me at present. Let's go inside—I expect that you'd like to sit down after all that."

The inside of the hut was very tidy. Sasuke glanced around and nodded to himself.

"Yukimura doesn't fully appreciate that we need to leave this place looking a lot more unkempt. It needs to appear to be untenanted."

"Sasuke. Talk. Now." I found a couple of blankets to kneel on, and waited pointedly for him to join me.

He delayed only long enough to fetch me a cup of water—which I needed—and then sat down across from me. The silence was deafening. Finally, Sasuke began.

"Lord Mitsuhide saw me traverse the roof leading away from your room."

I'd expected something like that, and gestured for him to continue. Then a thought struck me. "How do you know?"

"Because he shot at me. From a window not too far from your room." Sasuke's face and voice were as calm as ever.

"Shot at you! Are you hurt? Did he hit you?"

"Lord Mitsuhide is known for his outstanding skill with a rifle."

"So that's a yes. Why didn't I hear the shot? No, never mind—I was pretty out of it, and it doesn't matter. I'm so sorry, Sasuke! Where were you hit? Does it still hurt?"

Sasuke was looking at me strangely, and I took a deep breath in order to calm down.

"Chieko… While I appreciate your concern, it was just a scratch. It's healing—"

"It happened because you took a foolish chance bringing me medicine—for a cold—when it was too close to sunrise! And then you stayed too long because I—" My voice tailed off, as I recalled what had happened.

Sasuke was staring off to side again, the telltale red on his cheekbones visible in the sunlight filtering in through the slatted screen covering the one window. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Guilt was replaying possible unhappy scenarios in my head.

"We were going to have to move soon anyway," he said at last. "Don't you see? There was already a problem."

"How so?" I demanded. Sasuke had never seemed to have any trouble sneaking into my room in the past. He'd always brushed off the possibility of being caught. Being shot at had never crossed my mind.

"Lord Mitsuhide uses a flintlock rifle, correct? His own particular weapon, but it still needs powder, shot, tamping, and a flame. Also, does he really carry a rifle with him all the time? He's a daimyo allied with Lord Nobunaga—surely a samurai of his stature carries at least one sword?"

I was still upset over the whole Mitsuhide-shooting-Sasuke scenario, but Sasuke's calm voice was getting through to me. His point wasn't particularly reassuring, however.

"Actually, Mitsuhide does carry his rifle with him a lot of the time. Not for especially formal affairs, of course. But… you think Mitsuhide was lying in wait for you?"

"More or less," replied Sasuke, a little evasively. "He's been trying to catch me for some time, but until recently he was preoccupied with finding the monk Kennyo. Plus, I kept him focussed on my activities in town. I think he recently determined that I was in the castle from time to time, but he hadn't quite figured out how."

Sasuke stopped there, but I could see what he was trying to leave out.

"But then you arrived late, and the sky was already too light for safety. Somebody saw you and alerted Mitsuhide. Sasuke, that was reckless! You knew that Mitsuhide was looking for you! What were you thinking?!"

"I was—" Sasuke stopped. I wasn't sure why, until I followed the direction of his eyes and discovered that I'd leaned forward and wound both of my hands around one of his.

"Oh! Sorry!" I tried to lift my hands, but Sasuke's free hand came down to keep them in place. He wasn't quite as cool as his appearance would suggest, either. The fingers that wrapped around mine weren't perfectly steady. On the other hand, I also felt strength and warmth and… an emotion that was deeper and more complicated than simple liking.

"Don't be sorry—for this or for the fact I ran into a little trouble with Lord Mitsuhide. I was worried about you. I had one or two less than ideal experiences with sixteenth century medicine, when I first arrived, and"—he smiled at me again, and my stomach did that strangely happy falling-off-a-building swoop—"I didn't have Tokugawa Ieyasu acting as my personal pharmacist. Besides, it was entirely my own fault that I was late. Today as well."

"Well I am sorry—you got hurt while trying to help me, and I didn't even know." I felt tears prickle at my eyes, the reaction once again disproportionate to the situation.

Sasuke's face regained its usual stoic-serious expression, and his eyes dropped back to our linked hands. Whether from nerves, or some other impetus, he began to run his thumb along the soft underside of one of my wrists. I heard my breath hitch in surprise, as sensation flooded outward from my wrist, and warmth pooled in my lower abdomen. I think my toes curled a little. When did we go from acquaintances, to friends, to this? What is this? A familiar, but muted voice laughed softly, calling me out for pretending ignorance. Yellow eyes gleamed for a moment in my mind, reflecting Mitsuhide's amusement from this morning, and then vanished.

The stroking motion stopped, and I barely repressed a protest.

"Um, Chieko? Is this… acceptable? I hope you'll believe me that I did not intend to take any advantage when you were sick and influenced by opium. I know I should have said something sooner. Lord Shingen told me to express my true feelings as soon as possible—although I didn't mention your name, of course. He did his best to teach me. Unfortunately, I seem to find emotions more difficult to understand than both ninja training and the theory of high-energy time-space anomalies. Plus, you were surrounded by the most powerful men of the time—other than Lord Kenshin and Lord Shingen, which was likely just as well—and it didn't seem realistic to even consider…" He stopped. "Sorry. That was neither as logical nor as cogent as I had intended. Or at all. In fact, I'm not sure if I've actually said what I wanted to say."

I was still processing the fact that we'd crossed an invisible line at some point that would be difficult to uncross—not that I wanted to. My brain was only working at one-quarter speed.

"Sa-suke?" I shook my head as if to dislodge cobwebs, then did my best to meet his—warm brown with a hint of amber—eyes. "It's definitely acceptable. But—did you really talk to Shingen? I only met him once, but he managed four pick-up lines in four sentences. And—I still don't know exactly what happened today, or a week ago." I tried to smile encouragingly, but it got away from me and turned into another goofy grin.

Sasuke went back to caressing my soft inner wrist; he seemed unaware of the effect it was having on me, but it was hard to say—he was trained to be observant. I felt my knees weakening.

"If I may clarify," he said, "did you agree to go out with me just now? Did I even ask you out?"

"Not in so many words. But the intent was clear."

"I see. I will have to work on my communication skills." He gently extricated his hands from mine, and carefully pulled me against his chest, wrapping both arms around me once I was settled. I could hear his heart hammering in his chest, which was a relief—I didn't want to be the only to feel like that. A moment later, a very chaste kiss was pressed into my carefully braided hair. My resolution to find out more about the situation with Mitsuhide—and more about whatever had delayed Sasuke both today and last week—faded abruptly. I'd find out in due course.

"I've occasionally wondered," commented Sasuke, whose mildly calloused fingers were now tracing a slow line down my neck and then along the soft skin above my collarbone, "whether glasses are an impediment to kissing." He added hurriedly, "Not that I mean to pressure you into anything, of course. We have only been going out for a few minutes, after all. From those few relationships that I have observed among my colleagues, it does not appear to be a significant problem."

"Um…. No. ...Sasuke?"

"Yes, Chieko?"

"You could just ask, you know."

Sasuke's fingers stopped, which was disappointing, but then he used them to push my chin up a little.

"Are you sure about this?"

"When in the Sengoku…"

"They do tend to live in the present."

"I'm not saying that I don't take this—us—seriously. I don't think I'll ever be interested in casual kissing—or whatever."

"Speaking for myself," Sasuke's fingers returned to my collarbone and trailed up toward my mouth, "I don't think I'm capable of a non-serious relationship."

"Mmmm." How could a sober astrophysicist-turned-ninja affect me like this? His fingers caressed my neck almost possessively, and I could feel the sparks travel the length of each limb. He hesitated when his index finger reached my mouth, and somehow I couldn't resist reaching out with my tongue to touch it.

"Ah!" Sasuke jolted upright, face suffused with red. Fortunately, his outstanding reflexes saved us from anything either too embarrassing, or too painful—his hand cushioning my head prevented a hard knock against the packed-earth-floor.

"Sorry!" "Sorry, Chieko!"

Our apologies rang in unison. We both tried for rueful smiles, which quickly faded in a rush of much warmer feelings. Without further hesitation, Sasuke bent his head and kissed my lips, pulling my body closer against his and burying his hand even further into my hair. We tasted each other's lips, and then tongues, barely pausing to breathe, entirely unaware of the floor beneath us. I felt like all my nerves were on fire.

The glasses weren't much in the way, I suppose, but they disappeared early on. He really did have beautiful eyes. When Sasuke eventually dragged his mouth from mine, it was only to press kisses against my eyelids, and then down my neck, his body draped partially across mine, chest to chest. I wanted to contribute more, loving the sensation of his lips and teeth on my neck and then, with more intensity, along my collarbone—it barely registered that he must have pushed both kimono and under-kimono collars aside in order to bare my shoulder so far. I found his free hand clenched into the folds of my kimono, perhaps to keep it from wandering too far. I loosened its grip, and lifted it to my lips, kissing and then suckling each of the four fingers in turn. Sasuke was trembling by the time I was done, but he persisted in putting one more love bite on the lower edge of my right collarbone. My own body was shaking with need, and all I could do was cry out softly and then recapture his mouth when he was done.

The heat between us was almost unendurable, but we were too much creatures of the twenty-first century to give full rein to passionate inclination. Somehow, at some point, the feverish, panting kisses became more restrained, and then Sasuke dropped his head to my shoulder, muttering in desire-roughened tones: "We need to stop. It's too soon. It wouldn't be right. I'm so—"

I sealed his mouth with a last, gentle kiss, although it took everything I had not do something to test his restraint. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Well…" Sasuke pulled himself into a sitting position, and helped me to do the same. At first he couldn't take his eyes off me, and I could only imagine how I looked, with my collar pushed aside and my skin bruised by his teeth. Then he quickly averted his eyes, as though another second more would push him past his limits. There was actually very little showing compared to the previous week's wardrobe issue, but despite remaining fully-clothed, we'd managed to imprint at least the feel of our aroused bodies on each other. That had only made it more difficult to stop, but we had—a decision I questioned for the next several days.

We tidied ourselves in silence, although it wasn't nearly as awkward as I'd dreaded. Sasuke even showed a surprising familiarity with the niceties of female fashion as I strove to assemble and place the bits and pieces that had fallen from my obi and hair. In an effort to shove all the unsatisfied passion aside so that we could face each other with reasonable equanimity, he explained his expertise:

"It's nothing, really. I was allowed to train with some of Lord Shingen's special shinobi, many of whom are women. I found it to be both informative and insightful."

I watched as he placed a pretty obi pin with careful precision, and pouted—for effect, of course.

"Is there anything that you aren't good at, Sasuke?"

He paused, decided that I was probably joking, and smiled a little.

"Quite a few things. But if I have to name one, then… I can't sew very well. Well enough to get by, because that's expected when you're out in the field, but I have no talent and very little practice."

"Of course you pick the one thing I can do well."

"True."

"Okay. I saw you wince when you sat up just now. Where were you shot?"

"On the roof of Azuchi Castle," Sasuke deadpanned.

"Haha. Now spill."

"I have a five centimeter wound diagonally across my left lower ribs. I had it stitched—after I verified that the needle and thread were as sterile as possible. It's uncomfortable, but healing well. Presumably, I moved in time."

I stared at him. It sounded as though Mitsuhide had been aiming to kill.

"Don't worry, I won't let it happen again. To be fair to Lord Mitsuhide, his orders were 'dead or alive', and it's a well-known fact that Kenshin's ninja suicide rather than allow capture."

My stare shifted into a glare, and Sasuke had the grace to look away uncomfortably. Then he looked back, came closer, and resolutely put his arms around me, inclining his head so that he could rest it against mine.

"I can't believe you said yes. Thank you. I don't show it well, but I'm insanely happy right now."

"I can't believe you can kiss like that," I told him honestly. Sasuke started to turn red all over again.

"I could have chosen a nicer place to kiss you for the first time. And… things are going to be a little complicated from now until we leave."

"You're trying to tell me that I won't be able to see you anytime soon."

"I'm trying to remind myself. I wish I hadn't let Lord Mitsuhide see me. I should tell you, though—I'm not sure he was trying very hard."

"But!"

"I know. And maybe I'm wrong. But he tagged me across my left side, and at the time, I had a one-handed grip with my right. Also, I was already halfway down."

"You climbed down the entire second half of the castle roof with a gunshot wound?!"

"The options weren't attractive."

I sighed.

"You know, it's crazy to say this after—well everything that's happened—but I'm actually going to miss this place."

"So will I. But it's safer where we live, even apart from the small matter of continuous war."

"I know. Food, medicine, medical treatment, drinking water, everything."

"Anime."

"Anime doesn't make it safer!"

"Can we agree that anything is a healthier outlet for aggression than war?"

"Yes." I leaned into his shoulder, avoiding the left side. "Sasuke…"

"I'll be here until tomorrow morning. I really do need to look after some loose ends."

"Wait—that sounded like 'see you later, Chieko,' but you still haven't told me what started all this—what made you late on the day you brought the medicine."

"…I blame Ray Bradbury."

"Who?"

"An American science fiction author best known for writing Farenheit 451 about living in a society that burns books. Paper burns at 451 degrees Farenheit—let's see, that's about—"

"Sasuke! Focus!"

I'd never seen Sasuke look so uncomfortable, which after the past week was saying something.

"Bradbury also wrote a story called A Sound of Thunder. About time travel, actually. The story talked about how the smallest change can be drastically far-reaching. He mentioned a—a butterfly." Sasuke said the last word very quietly.

"Oh"—a bunch of formerly trendy pop science news somehow found its way to the front of my brain—"that's the 'butterfly effect', right? It's something to do with chaos theory, if I'm remembering properly."

"Correct. The butterfly effect became synonymous with chaos theory. One beat of those little, fluttery wings, and poof! There goes another chunk of a South Pacific island, in the wake of some massive hurricane."

"And this has to do with—"

"Can I tell you next time?"

"Sasuke." I looked up into his caring—maybe even loving?—brown eyes, and relented. "Alright. Please—just take care of yourself. I—you mean a lot to me. I'm glad I finally got to tell you—and show you."

"You mean a lot to me as well, Chieko. You've always come first for me, here in the Sengoku, no matter what."

"I guess I have to see myself home now?"

"Yes—but I'll go as far as the edge of the trees."

Hand-in-hand, and companionably quiet, we walked until we could see raw sunshine beyond the next set of trees. Sasuke stopped, wrapped me in a tight hug, and kissed me as though we'd been together for a year, not an hour.

"Remember—"

"I'll be careful," my ninja promised me. "No matter what, you come first."

"I'll be ready when you send word about the wormhole. But I'll look for you before that."

"You never know."

"Nin nin."

There was a whisper of cloth as he released me, and then he was gone. He was an excellent ninja. I had high hopes that we might discover other skills of his together.

[END]

A/Note: Notes, reviews, and comments are always welcome. This story will be published on Tumblr, FFN, and AO3.

Thank you for reading! \(^u^)

Tags:  @iamaikotachibana (with thanks for sharing my love of Sasuke) @shell-senji @eliz1369 @acrispyapple (thank you) @nalufever (thank you for reading the earlier version) @flower-dragon @hidetheremote @llama-in-socks @yum-chan @cherryb0mb79 (you started this madness you know!) @canadiangaap

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from tags (or for certain characters) (PM or Ask or Note to this post)

[canisaries]

AGAPE - Part 7: I’m Not a Liar

canis writing agape? what is this, 2016??

In this part, Red continues to be weird and Canis reminds her readers that oh right I think this fic was about Helix at some point. As a slight change of pace, this one is also not like 4000 pages long or something.

(Originally, Part 7 was going to also be the final part, but then I noticed how long it was getting and how much I still had to write, plus I found a nice place to stop, so I decided to split it in two after all. Now that I’ve done it, I’m pretty satisfied with the call, since now the atmospheres don’t mix as much.)

Enjoy!

---

It had taken quite a lot of potions to fix her up from the beating she���d received, but by the time Red had finished healing her, she’d looked like she was in the best shape of her life. Her life in her new malamar body, to be exact.

Next, he washed her of her blood and anything he might have left on her. Prints, genes, et cetera. Soon it would be time for the memories.

She was a lot heavier now. That, and the fact that despite Red’s rubber gloves - disinfected, of course - her body was still considerably slippery when held, made the process a bit more challenging than he’d expected, but he managed nevertheless.

Having cleaned her and the floor she’d hung above, Red removed his gloves for a moment to retrieve his book of symbols. He’d decided to use the hour variant. He hadn’t used the day variant before, and he wanted to play it safe.

He’d have to carve it on some part of her body where she couldn’t see and nobody would think to look. Such an area would probably be small, so the strokes would need to be small as well. A scalpel would have been optimal, but Red didn’t want to risk infection of his wares, no matter how well he knew he cleaned his equipment. If he happened to deliver faulty products, he might get snitched on. Then, he wouldn’t even get to snitch on the snitch. The snitch’s connections might try to get even. Red didn’t know if the people he dealt with had such connections, but he was certain that, in any case, they would always have more allies than him. But, wait... if he were to get caught, and everything was to get out - everything - would he even end up in the same place? Would he be deemed too different? He wasn’t just some brute with an anger problem. He had access to ancient forces modern society had no idea even existed. He chose his cases carefully. Would…?

...No. No, of course not. He shouldn’t think so highly of himself.

He shouldn’t be thinking any of this now. He had things to do.

He placed the open book on the floor in clear view. He put his rubber gloves back on and retrieved the knife the mon had held to the back of his neck before. Red felt a bit of disdain for it, as if it had betrayed him itself, but it was still the sharpest.

He surveyed the malamar. For a moment, he felt a bit ambivalent. There were so many things he wanted to do to her, but he couldn’t. Maybe, in a year or two, after everyone had forgotten about her, he could…

The thought made him smile, which made him feel worse, since he knew what a stupid idea it was. She still had family, and assuming her parents were malamar, she’d still be accepted there. He couldn’t choose anyone with regular connections to others. If they disappeared, their friends and family would worry, and finally alert the police. Then an investigation begins. Then they find him. And then, all this would have been for nothing, since he’d ended up losing Him nonetheless.

He shook his head and turned his attention back to the mon on the ground.

Under the mantle? No, too much work, and probably still too visible.

Inside her beak? No, she’d most likely feel it.

Between her head tentacles?

It seemed like a safe bet. Red dug his hands in between her hair-like arms and parted them to see better. They seemed tight. That was a positive sign.

The space on her scalp was far too small to fit the carving on. He decided to use one of the tentacles’ base instead.

He picked up the knife and, after very carefully assessing how much space he’d need, sunk the tip of the blade into the skin and drew the first line of the symbol. Small pearls of dark blue surfaced to fill and flood the paper thin crevice in the flesh. Meeting the metal, the fluid stuck to it and flattened into thinner layers, revealing its true, rich range of colors - turquoise, teal, deep blue… Ah, not now.

He moved on to carving the rest of the main symbol, every now and then wiping away the excess blood that rose to view from the fresh cuts.

After finishing the final line, he had to choose the number of strokes to add beneath the seal, one for every hour he wanted to erase. He’d left a lot of room below, so space wouldn’t be an issue. But how many hours? He’d have to make her forget everything that took place right after the show, since - while there had been a lot of hours of her just being unconscious - she’d recognized him in the shower. Not that being attacked was a normal memory to have in general.

Red looked at the clock. It was about midday.

He decided to play it safe again and erase the whole show last night from her mind. She maybe wouldn’t forget that far with her normal drinking, but she’d probably just shrug it off nonetheless.

He chose to draw 16 strokes. He saw that a whole inch had been left unused, which made him feel a bit stupid, but he soon made himself dismiss the thought. The symbol was small and far enough down the arm to not be seen without someone specifically looking for it.

Unlike the psychic nullifier, this symbol’s effect didn’t wear off with healing - however, it had to remain for at least the amount of hours set on it, or its effect wouldn’t last for good. This meant not being able to use potions to stop the bleeding, so Red had to wait it out.

When the wounds had finally dried up, Red carefully cleaned away the blue hue and let go of the mon. The tentacles drew together again and, closing up, hid the symbol almost entirely. Good enough.

Next, he cleaned the bottles he’d had her drink. When they finally shone like new, he took them to one of her longer arms.

What a graceful arm. He had to stop to admire it.

But he had to continue. He grabbed her arm by the tip and pressed her suckers onto the bottles until her prints were all over them. He then slowly moved the bottles inside a plastic bag. Finally, he recalled her to her pokéball and, along with the bottles, placed her in his backpack.

The room looked a lot less alive without her. Only the shivering candlelight remained. He sighed, not sure if it was out of annoyance or relief.

Having blown out the candles and put away all his tools, he began to shift the bookcase. Bright light from the basement hallway flooded in, hurting his eyes a bit.

It was in that light that he noticed the seal on his wrist again. It had almost healed already, but it could still be seen. He should cover it.

After going back to rebandage his arm, Red slipped out behind the bookcase and pushed it back into its original position, leaving behind his hidden room.

He lightly bumped the bag on his back with his elbow to ensure it really was with him.

Good. He was all set.

Hanging his coat on the rack, Red couldn’t help but laugh out of sheer contentment.

It was done. It was done! He’d finally gotten rid of her for good. He’d finally be reunited with Him. Now he only needed to wait. Wait for her career to crash and Him to lose interest. And given how quickly He’d fallen for her, He likely wouldn’t miss her for too long.

Red threw his bag onto the floor, smiling, and let himself fall back on the couch. He glanced at the clock. Ah, what great timing! His lord would return home soon.

Red would make sure to be on his very best behavior and as friendly as possible. His lord would see him with new eyes, appreciative eyes. Red would always be there for Him. Red was His most humble servant, His high priest.

Red could now hear some noises from outside.

Elated, he jumped back up and rushed to open the front door. A startled Fonz was looking up at him from the front yard.

“Come in, come in!” Red greeted with great delight. The freezing temperatures stung his skin and yanked every hair on his bare arms fully erect, but he kept the door wide open nonetheless.

Fonz rushed towards the house, though slowed down when ascending the steps as not to slip. He shielded the ball of fabric with his sturdy arms. Red dodged him as he moved inside, and promptly shut the door softly behind him.

“You’re chipper today,” commented Fonz, surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” replied Red, and snuck past the nidoking into the kitchen. He began to prepare a meal.

“It’s Friday, isn’t it?” he said, half to start a conversation and half to add to his previous words. Red did seem awfully chipper. He wasn’t often like that. He himself knew why he was so happy, but Fonz didn’t, and Fonz shouldn’t, either.

“Yeah, that’s true,” said Fonz, removing Helix’s scarves. “No school tomorrow.”

“You must happy about that, then, my lord,” called Red from the kitchen, a bit louder to ensure He could really hear it.

“...He is,” responded Fonz after a short pause.

“How was school today?” asked Red as he placed the basket of berries onto the table.

“It was alright for Him,” answered Fonz. Red tensed his expression. Why wasn’t He saying anything?

“That’s good to hear,” Red said and moved away from the table. “Food’s ready.”

Fonz got up, holding Helix, and silently walked by Red. Red’s eyes followed Helix the entire way to him.

“Hey,” he greeted Him with a sincere smile as He passed by.

“...Hey,” Helix responded awkwardly. Somehow, his eyes seemed shy, even… fearful?

Red nodded and went to sit on the sofa. He let his smile finally melt away.

What was that? Had the news got out already? But He didn’t look sad… He looked anxious. Bothered. Worried. Had something happened at school? Or had He found something out about him? What was the matter? Red wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to disturb Him now that He was having His meal.

Red could hear Him and Fonz mumbling about something. What was it? He couldn’t make out any words.

Red noticed his bag was still lying on the floor from before. He dragged and lifted it to himself. Nothing explicitly incriminating there anymore, just an empty plastic bag and an empty pokéball… He should still get rid of both, just in case. But there was no hurry. Yet, at least.

After a few minutes of waiting, Red could hear the slight screech of a chair being moved. He mentally prepared himself. Steps could be heard, and they approached him. Soon, Fonz arrived in the living room with Helix in his hands. The nidoking lowered the omanyte onto the other end of the couch.

Red refrained from looking in their direction. His lord seemed stressed, and it seemed to be because of Red, or the feeling at least strengthened around him for whatever reason. But he needed to know. I should do it now, thought Red, before it gets more awkward for Him. He tried his best to appear nonchalant as he adopted a more casual pose.

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” he began, attempting to sound like he’d just now remembered to say it. “How was the concert last night, my lord?”

“I, uhh...” Helix mumbled, but stopped to look at Fonz. Fonz promptly picked him up again and held Him close to himself. The nidoking looked at Helix again and nodded in a way that clearly meant something, but something only the two understood, then looked back at Red with a stern expression.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Helix hesitantly continued.

“Oh?” Red turned to face Him fully.

He was going to tell him face to face? It couldn’t be too bad, then. At least Red hoped so, dearly. His lord wasn’t ready to hear about the worst things. Not now, not ever. Or, maybe someday, much later, but definitely not now, for several reasons. Granted, He’d already seen a lot, but wasn’t like He could even remember half of it...

In any case, He was going to be straightforward, and that was good. Red wouldn’t have to try to find out by himself.

“Getting me those tickets was… really cool of you,” Helix started, “but you shouldn’t… I don’t want you to do that again.”

Red tilted his head. “What do you mean?” he enquired. Had the press really found out already? Had He really changed His opinion of her this quickly?

“Wh-What I mean is,” He bumbled, “I don’t… I didn’t enjoy it that much after all. I don’t wanna sound ungrateful, I just...”

He searched for the right words, but couldn’t seem to ever come across the right ones. Instead, the room was left with a tense silence that just kept on going.

Red utilized this moment to review what he’d just heard.

He… He hadn’t enjoyed it? He hadn’t enjoyed the show? When she’d still been an inkay?

Before Red had ruined her?

That couldn’t be right.

Surely, that couldn’t have been right.

Helix was still trying to continue His sentence. Red didn’t want to interrupt his lord, but he saw it to be the best course of action to take.

“My lord,” he said reassuringly, “it’s fine.”

“But I haven’t even told you what it is…”

“Whatever it is, my lord, it’s fine,” he repeated. Red wasn’t lying, but he was guilty of wanting the conversation to proceed faster.

“Getting those tickets must have been hard or expensive or both… I just don’t want you wasting your money and time on something I won’t even like,” Helix said, but instantly regretted His choice of words. “I-I mean, not that I think you should waste your money on things that I do like-”

“My lord,” Red interjected again, feeling ashamed of it right after, but still deciding to continue. “No money spent for the sake of your delight is wasted.”

Fonz gave Red a strange look. Red ignored it.

“Well… okay, but still,” said Helix. “Thanks one last time for the tickets, but… I just wanna let you know that that was a… phase. Abba was right, she… She was pretty lame this whole time. I only realized it last night.”

So, a phase. It had only been a phase. A momentary attraction. A crush. A fixation spanning only a few days. Nothing serious. Nothing actual. Just a mishap.

Huh.

Really should have seen that one coming.

Red blinked.

“...You’re not mad, are you?” peeped the omanyte.

Well, was he?

Eh.

He’d think about it later.

“Of course not, my lord,” responded Red. “There’s nothing for me to be mad about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely. Getting those tickets wasn’t that much of a hassle. And even if it had been, it wouldn’t matter.”

“...How so?”

“I got to see you happy for at least a while, didn’t I?”

It sounded so sweet said aloud. It should have been the reason he’d done it. But it hadn’t been. Why couldn’t it have been? Why, why did he always have to be so impatient, thoughtless, rash, idiotic… The list went on.

Red stared at his lord’s eyes. They were mostly avoiding him, but every now and then they still crept back to see if he was still looking at them. Every time the answer was yes, and every time they hastily darted elsewhere again.

They were so… alive. Big, black pupils and snow white sclerae. Their wet surface reflecting the light from the surrounding ceiling lamps. Occasionally blinking.

They didn’t have to be so anxious. What were they afraid of?

Then His tentacles, nervously coiling around Fonz’s fingers. From afar, they didn’t look like they were too cold, even if Red knew it to be otherwise. They moved slowly but stressfully. It didn’t feel good to look at them like that. Red wanted to take them into his hands and stroke them until they relaxed. But he couldn’t do it. Why? He couldn’t, not right now.

Then His shell. Red still vividly remembered what its surface had felt like against his lips a few days ago.

Of His beak, Red could only see a sliver. Chitinous and black, it would split through the middle and lose its color upon evolving. Red couldn’t say which member of the omanyte family he preferred. They both had their pros and cons. Omanyte were small, light and easy to carry around, but they weren’t as powerful. Omastar were bigger and stronger, but also heavier, and their big shells made it harder for them to move around… But omastar also had their beautiful beaks and striking eyes. Not that omanyte eyes and beaks weren’t pretty as well...

But, in the end, this was his lord. It didn’t matter what form He took. Red would serve Him, no matter what.

“So...” started Helix suddenly, snapping Red out of his daze. “We’re cool then?”

Red chuckled. “We’re always cool, my lord,” he replied, smiling.

Red’s smile soon slipped away, however, as he remembered his situation again. This all had been a lot to take in.

“My lord...” he began, standing up. “I would like to excuse myself now. I’d like to go for a bit of fresh air.”

“Uhh… Go ahead,” said Helix, sounding slightly disorientated.

“Thank you,” said Red, bowed slightly, and left for the hall.

Outside, it was snowing and rather quiet. The noises that could be heard were mostly the swooshing of faraway traffic or winds. The sky was a light shade of gray all around, and the snowflakes were relatively big. The temperature must have been around freezing or a bit above.

Red turned away from the wind and pulled up the hood of his winter coat to prevent the snow from hitting and sticking to his hair.

He really didn’t have to do any of it then, huh? His lord had come to His senses all by Himself. Red really should have had more trust in Him and His judgment.

And omanyte did mature fast, too. Unlike humans. Red sighed through his nose and closed his eyes. When was he going to mature? He couldn’t wait.

Had it really all been for nothing? The seal, the trip to Celadon, the abduction, the forced evolution, all of it? He’d had fun with the inkay, sure, but now it all seemed so pointless…

Was it even all that fun? Why had he even done those things? Why couldn’t he just have waited this all out? He wouldn’t have had to bother with any of this. He wouldn’t have needed to fear getting caught or found out. Any more than usual, that was.

If only he’d realized sooner, way sooner, that all he ever needed to do was wait. Perhaps the first times it wouldn’t have worked, since back then he hadn’t yet had a clear picture of how it all worked - but nowadays, he had no excuse.

He opened his eyes. He felt tired. Not in his limbs or his eyes, but in his spirit. He didn’t want relief anymore, and he’d never wanted regret. He wanted to ignore both of those feelings. He wanted to forget it all.

There was no room behind the bookcase, ShirLee had been drinking last night, and there was no reason for him to be out in the snowfall.

He decided to go back inside.