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tswwwit · 10 months

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Here's the second part of Cult Reincarnation Dipper!

The first part is over Here if you missed it.

Hope you enjoy!

“Here we are!” Bill says brightly. He nods approvingly at the room, then glances back at Dipper. “Glad you didn’t take off running during the trip.”

How Dipper could have managed that, he isn’t sure. The instant they appeared in this place, Bill took hold of Dipper’s wrist and hasn’t let go even once.

The nightmare realm is exactly as advertised. Dipper’s been pulled through mazelike corridors, up and down impossible hallways, over insane physic-defying structures - and past things with too many teeth and eyes.

He thinks he’s been holding up pretty well, all things considered.

Being dragged by a nightmare god into his realm of dreams for unknown reasons wasn’t exactly on his bucket list. Without any helpful explanations, or even unhelpful ones, he’s stayed calm and followed along. Remaining obedient, keeping quiet, and waiting in hopes of Bill either giving up, or giving him any indication of where the hell they are and what the fuck he’s doing.

Now they’ve arrived, and the destination… isn’t exactly encouraging.

Dipper looks over the gleaming instruments hung on the walls. The needles and scalpels and hooks. He drops his gaze towards the white paper on the chair, at the poorly hidden restraints.

A place of insanity and terror, owned by a king of nightmares, dragging along a vulnerable human with a badly injured arm. Of course he’d end up in a house of medical horrors. It’s too thematically appropriate.

So yeah. Dipper’s been holding on fine. Only his legs have decided they’ve had enough for the day, and given up.

His robes puddle around him as he hits the floor. The tile’s very cold and sterile under his legs, and his arm trembles in Bill’s unwavering grip.

“Hey! What gives?” Bill tugs on Dipper’s wrist again. Thankfully not hard enough to haul him to his feet.

Dipper shakes his head. The floor’s fine. He’ll stay right here, thank you very much. Trying to retrieve his wrist doesn’t work, but he makes a good show of it.

“Nice try,” Bill says, dryly. “But there’s no escaping! Now get on up and have a seat already.”

For the first time, his grip loosens. Dipper yanks his arm towards his chest, attempts to stumble to his feet. His legs fail to cooperate, sliding out in front of him like he’s putting up a tantrum rather than an escape attempt.

With a quick snort, Bill ducks down and tucks his hands under Dipper’s arms. A moment later he lifts Dipper bodily into the air, and appraises him with a smile.

Dipper kicks out in surprise, struggling for purchase - then lets his legs dangle in the air, limp. Flailing around isn’t going to help. Odds are it’d make things worse.

If there was ever a mistake Dipper shouldn’t make, it would be accidentally whacking a god in the groin.

Bill bounces him in his grip a couple times, with a pleased smile, and seemingly zero effort. The human form he’s wearing isn’t bulky; he’s just stronger than he appears. Dipper should have guessed as much. He’s in the demon realm, brought here - kidnapped by - an eldritch, too-powerful being. Any resistance he puts up is as much of a shield as tissue paper.

With a nod, Bill turns a full ninety degrees, and drops him directly into the chair. The leather of the seat creaks underneath Dipper as he hits it, and he instantly straightens up, back rigid.

“There we are.” Bill smirks with satisfaction. He points directly at Dipper’s face with a sudden frown. As it comes closer, Dipper leans as far back as he can manage. “Now stay. Put.”

The tone is very firm, and, well. Obedience is the name of the game, when it comes to a ‘god’.

Dipper simply nods. Bill beams again, then retreats to start pulling drawers open, rustling through them and muttering to himself.

Whatever he’s up to, Dipper doesn’t care to guess. From what he can tell, the entire room is made for easy cleaning, and the objects don’t lend him any comfort. Tons of gleaming instruments hang on hooks and boards, pale metal against white walls. The soaked sleeve of his robe is leaving little dots on the seat and armrests. Every spot of red stands out so brightly in this sterile white environment.

Dipper clutches his arm to his chest again. Not budging. Just as he was told. There’s a thin prickle of sweat building on his skin.

A sound catches his attention, and he glances up at Bill, who’s wearing a big, bright grin. He’s holding something glass in one hand, and a glint of metal in the other.

Dipper keeps trying to maintain pressure on his wound. Bill’s approaching without even a hint of hesitation - without being able to talk, he simply shakes his head again and again. He’s fine, this is great, they can go anywhere else, just don’t -

“What?” Bill cocks his head to the side, and grins again. “Easy, I don’t bite! Much.”

He has very sharp teeth, Dipper notices. With how human that form is, he hadn’t paid much attention to the details.

The white of his smile has fangs.

“Yeesh, tense much?” Bill raises an eyebrow, carelessly dropping a metal box in Dipper’s lap. The other one shows the glass to be a corked bottle - small, round and filled with greenish liquid. Bill starts shaking it rapidly, beckoning with his free hand. ”Gimme that arm, already.”

When Dipper doesn’t move, Bill slowly pries his arm away from his chest. He pushes it down onto the armrest - and before Dipper can react, the makeshift bandage of his robes is ripped off at the elbow, leaving him bare.

Dipper watches the blood trickling down over the seat with a nauseating flip in his stomach. He can look away - does, quickly - but worse, he’s oddly embarrassed. Everything in here was so pristine before he started leaking on things.

“Eh, could be worse.” Bill chimes in over Dipper’s thoughts. A brief glance shows he’s evaluating the wound; he waggles a hand in a so-so gesture. “Decent blood flow, but damage-wise? You’ll be wielding a knife yourself in no time!”

God, what a weird thing to say. Dipper half-shrugs in response.

He hopes Bill’s right, though. Not the knife-wielding, but that it’s not too bad. It certainly feels bad, but Dipper doesn’t have enough experience to tell how, or if, he’ll recover. He’s never seen a sacrifice, with a person, that called for that much blood. Especially one that got so… enthusiastic.

Or perhaps there was, and Dipper just looked away, like he always does. He’s never had the stomach for this sort of thing. Hell, he still doesn’t; as Bill gets settled, Dipper turns and starts counting all the knives on the walls.

Yep. There’s definitely a lot of them. So many, and none of them are in Bill’s hand at the moment. He tries to focus on that as well. The box in Dipper’s lap is too small to contain anything but the tiniest of the scalpels, too. Another good sign, if he’s feeling optimistic.

There’s the sound of something uncorking. Then, liquid dripping down Dipper’s arm and over his wrist, a bright, sparking sting - he grits his teeth, ready for the pain to build, and feels -

Nothing?

Dipper blinks. He’s lost count of the knives, but he does get an excellent view of the empty bottle sailing across the room, and shattering on the opposite wall. Quickly followed by the cork, with a spitting sound; Bill probably pulled it out with his teeth.

There’s a vague prod. Dipper cringes on reflex, shoulders tensing. The next one feels firmer, and not in a great place, but.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

Well, no. It does, a little. If Dipper clenches his arm and makes a fist, he can feel a kind of sting - and hear Bill mutter under his breath. So he probably shouldn’t do that. But other than that faint ache, the pain is gone, leaving a chill semi-numbness in its place.

Beside him, Bill makes a satisfied sound. He flips open the box in Dipper’s lap, pulls something out - then starts doing something weird to his arm.

Dipper feels a pinch, then a tugging sensation. He sucks in a breath.

“Hold still, already.” Bill’s grip tightens, holding him in place. Dipper can tell because when moves his fingers again, he can just about tickle the underside of his arm. “Hey! What’d I just say!”

Dipper stops moving. Obedient, definitely. Totally not questioning what the hell is happening to his flesh, or worried at all. He only flinches a bit at the repeated pinch-tug-pinch, running a line down his arm.

With the numbness, it’s easy to focus on breathing in, and out, in a steady rhythm. Passing time, until Bill’s done with his gruesome work.

“There we go.” Bill stands up, wiping his hands clean on a bright white cloth. He offers Dipper another easy grin. “Not too shabby, am I right?”

Dipper hesitates, but. He’s going to have to face the damage at some point. Might as well be now, while he’s still numb and lightheaded.

First, he sees Bill, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Then the arm itself, looking pale and small, with a long, thin line of stitches running up the wound.

No mutations, no mutilations. Just clean, closed skin.

Wow, that was a big cut. It didn’t really hit him until he saw it sewn up.

Dipper’s no expert on medical anything, but it must be decent work; Bill looks pleased with himself, for one, and the stitches themselves are neatly placed in even lines. Weirder still - it hasn’t been tinkered with, or experimented on at all.

Bill not-too-gently pats his wrist again, before wrapping Dipper’s entire forearm in bright white gauze. He hums to himself as he works. Just as he snips off the bandage with a pair of scissors, he pauses.

“Hm, kinda missing something,” Bill mutters, almost to himself. Then his expression brightens, and he snaps his fingers. “Aha!”

Dipper winces at the full-palm slap on his wrist. Ow. Even numbed, that stung.

“There! All patched up.” Bill says. He sets his fists on his hips, looking triumphant. “What’d’ya think, kid?”

Dipper looks down, and stares. He’s not really sure how he’s supposed to react.

Instead of taping the bandages in place, Bill’s smacked on a sticker. One of Bill himself, triangular-formed, and giving a disproportionately big thumbs-up.

“Ahem.” Bill clears his throat.

When Dipper checks, that seemingly eternal grin has popped right back into place. Expectant. Almost prompting.

Come to think of it - it’s the exact same one Dipper saw after the ritual, not that long ago.

The one that he still doesn’t know how to answer.

Dipper pulls his arm up, holding it close. He touches the bandages carefully, tracing down the line of his wound. All his fingers still work. All his skin seems to have stayed in place. Even the numbness has lingered well past the actual procedure.

Bill Cipher himself, lord of chaos and nightmares, had a hold of a wounded piece of mortal meat. And as far as Dipper can tell, nothing’s missing, nothing’s mangled, and it doesn’t even hurt.

Of all the things Dipper imagined about meeting Bill Cipher - and he can imagine a lot more things than the average guy -

This would never have made the list.

Bill hasn’t said anything. For a while now. Enough time has passed that the silence has grown awkward, because really Dipper should have done something by now, damn it. There has to be -

“Oh, right!” Bill breaks the silence with a snap of his fingers. His eye rolls; he even smacks himself on the side of the head in a ‘dang, can’t believe I forgot’ gesture. “Major bloodloss! No human brain works great when it’s improperly irrigated.”

Which… is true, sure. Dipper does feel pretty woozy, but more likely Bill’s referring to not getting a response.

That’s one thing he can fix, sort of. Dipper tries another smile. Hesitant, but not forced.

Bill just raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah, you’re cute. Don’t think flaunting it gets you anywhere.”

Dipper lets his smile drop.

Okay, what? That was not what he was going for, and - and it doesn’t make sense, anyway. Bill must have meant something else, because he’s not cute. Kind of a condescending thing to call a guy who’s just showing he’s grateful.

Even though he should know better, Dipper flashes an irritated glance at this idiot god’s face. He folds his arms, letting out a huff.

And Bill lunges in with startling speed.

Dipper jerks back in the chair only for Bill to follow, face inches away, sharp teeth bared in a wide smile. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, and his single eye narrows.

With rising tension, Dipper notes that said eye is actually glowing. There’s intent there, focused and strange - and even worse, the slow stir of magic building between them.

This is what he gets, isn’t it. For being a huge goddamned idiot, and insolent, and why did he do that of all-

“Boop.” Bill taps Dipper’s nose, and stands back up. As if to add insult to incoherence, he also pinches Dipper’s cheek. “Now! Upsy-daisy, kid! We gotta get you settled in!”

Dipper remains seated, even as Bill claps his hands and gestures for him to rise. At one point he even leans over and taps his thighs, in a deeply condescending beckon. If it wouldn’t be suicidally insane, Dipper would flip him off for that.

How is Dipper not dead yet. How is he not insane yet. This doesn’t make sense.

Nothing here makes sense.

But then, maybe Dipper should have expected that. Nightmare logic aside, he’s dizzy and tired, and it’s hard to keep figure out what’s insane demon-god stuff, what he’s simply lost track of.

Waiting for too long has had its consequences, of course. For the second time in an hour, Dipper gets hauled up by a too-strong monster. This time, he’s set on his feet pretty shortly, instead of being swung around like some kind of carnival prize.

Dipper hits the ground as Bill drops him, and stumbles. The world spins around him, and he nearly drops to the floor again until he braces himself on the closest solid-looking object.

The object moves under his arm. Above him, he hears loud, pleased laughter. “Aw, getting touchy, are we?”

Dipper stares at his arm, braced against a firm chest - then up at Bill’s wide grin. Then down again, where he’s wrinkling Bill’s shirt.

Shit. Wrong choice. Bad choice - but there wasn’t much of a choice! If Dipper didn’t want to fall on his ass, he had to grab something.

“I know, I know. I’m too tempting to resist.” Bill says, sounding eminently amused. Almost… teasing? He takes Dipper by the shoulder, turning him around towards the door. “Let’s get outta here.”

Wherever ‘here’ is. Wherever they’re going is even more worrying.

Still, Bill doesn’t seem mad about the invasion of his personal space. Or anything else, weirdly enough. Maybe Dipper’s misinterpreting the signs; he wouldn’t be the first worshiper to do so.

Mystery is part and parcel of Bill Cipher, one of his core essences. No part of him is uncomplicated or simple, because he loves making things difficult. There’s supposed to be puzzles, layered over each other in complex ways to obscure the truth. Every time Bill talks to one of the devout, it requires careful interpretation -

But there are too many possibilities, and Dipper’s too disoriented to keep up with any double-talk.

Bill opens the door into another black-red brick corridor. It looks like it could go anywhere, and everything about it screams ominous.

In a particularly stupid move - though one born of self-preservation - Dipper shoves himself into Bill’s grasp. He grips the shirt, hip bumping against the god, and Bill makes a quiet sound of surprise.

For a heartstopping moment, Dipper knows he’s fucked up.

Then the arm comes around him, and pulls him in tight. Squeezing his shoulder, then dropping around his waist, hand loosely holding his hip.

“Good choice, sapling! Your fleshy human vestibular sense is for shit, and I didn’t patch you up just to watch you break your skull on the ground.” Bill chucks Dipper under the chin with a knuckle and winks. “If I wanted a corpse, I could get those anywhere.”

Which… makes a terrifying kind of sense.

Bill’s right, of course. He’s an immensely powerful god-creature, who can reach in between worlds, given the opportunity. He commands dreams, and people, and an all-consuming amount of magic.

If he wanted a corpse, he could have one in moments. And if he wanted it to be Dipper’s, all he really had to do was… nothing.

As Bill pulls him into the hallway, Dipper checks his wrist again. He flexes his fingers, and sticks close to his ‘god’.

His arm’s a little achy, as the numbness begins to fade. The gauze is tight enough to feel comforting rather than constraining, clean and wrapped with obvious care. Even with the slight pain, it feels like he’s going to heal up just fine.

And though it’s incredibly stupid, the super cheesy sticker does kind of make him feel better.

Obviously Bill likes Dipper’s blood. He said as much during the summon; that it’s ‘very nice’. Likely it’s the reason Dipper was kidnapped in the first place.

But instead of juicing him like an orange, Bill took pains to keep all of it inside.

“As long as we’re stopping you from kicking the bucket,” Bill snaps his fingers. A small, squarish carton appears, and he holds it in front of Dipper. “You might wanna drink this.”

Dipper grimaces at… whatever this is. He can’t read the language, but it’s decorated with a smiling thing that could be either a heart, or a severely mutated fruit.

He glances up at Bill again, but no explanation is forthcoming. He merely waggles the carton around again, nearly shoving it into Dipper’s chest.

Welp. A ‘god’ has ordered him to consume something. Obedience, right, still a virtue. Hell, even if Bill wanted Dipper to swallow liquid mercury, he wouldn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

Poison isn’t very likely, though. Bill doesn’t want a dead body around, and he’s put in way too much effort to reverse course now.

Bill raises an eyebrow, tapping the drink invitingly against his chest. At this point Dipper suspects the lack of explaining is intentional.

Fine, whatever. If he’s going to insist…

Dipper still gives it a skeptical look, but he takes it from Bill’s hand. Not accepting a god’s gift is probably rude. Offending him isn’t any more helpful than dehydration.

And though all the advice about dealing with supernatural beings says, ‘don’t consume what they give you’, Bill does have a point. Humans are full of liquid. Dipper lost a decent portion of his own. Filling it back up isn’t the worst idea in the universe.

The top twists open, though Dipper doesn’t dare glance at the contents. He’ll just shut his eyes and chug.

He takes several long, deep drinks, tilting his head back. At first to help himself swallow - then more, and eagerly, because holy shit, he’s so thirsty. He didn’t realize until he started, but he really, really needed this.

With the portion of his tongue he has left, he tastes a faint sweetness, like strawberries.

“Top up your tank, kid.” Bill gives Dipper another nudge, almost playful. “Humans are basically half-fluid. To go at it like that, you musta been practically mummified!”

Weird phrasing seems to be a thing for Bill. Better get used to it.

Since he’s not looking at him, Dipper rolls his eyes and makes a face. Just a quick, two-second expression.

Beside him, Bill’s grin inches up a tiny bit. He starts whistling a cheerful tune as he leads them onward.

It’s an indeterminate amount of time before they stop - Bill, fresh and cheerful, Dipper, wondering how much longer he has to be on his feet - but eventually Bill whips around a corner, facing a brown wooden door in the middle of one of the black slate walls.

Great. Another mystery room, and by the look on Bill’s face - one he’s been eager to get to.

By this point Dipper’s pretty sure Bill’s not about to execute or exsanguinate him At least 90% sure; it’s hard to tell when dealing with a being of pure chaos.

But he still slows his steps as Bill sets his hand on the knob, leaning back into that guiding arm on his waist. Unpredictability has always unnerved him.

Bill turns towards Dipper with a brilliant smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” He says, almost conspiratorially. He nudges Dipper forward as he opens the door. “Welcome home, sapling!”

With a gust of warm air and a light that leaves Dipper blinking, the door opens.

And with a proud smile, Bill Cipher leads him into the single most luxurious looking room he’s ever seen in his life.

Dipper stares. Maybe gawks a little, but he shuts his mouth quickly.

No matter where he looks, everything oozes rich, sumptuous leisure.

There’s paintings, and tapestries, a soft thick black carpet. A huge, soft-looking couch near a fireplace, odds and ends of scattered jewels and technical looking objects on the walls. There’s even a portrait of Bill himself, in his regular form, with a foot upon the world. Large double doors lead to another room, and though the partly open crack Dipper thinks he spots a bed.

On the second glance around, Dipper catches on. That subtle gleam, that catches his eye, seemingly everywhere - is freakin’ gold. Not just the occasional pierce of decoration, either; it’s subtly woven into parts of all the decor, thin lines on furniture and doors and even some in the carpet.

Bill’s room so far beyond the dark, stoic asceticism of the compound. Miles away. Lightyears.

Why the hell did they have a shitty stone cavern to worship in, if their god lives like this?

No, that’s easily answered -the priest always was a dick.

Dipper’s not thrilled about what Bill did to the guy back at the ritual, but he’s far from upset.

Beside him, Bill’s silent. For once he’s not shuffling Dipper along anywhere. No prompting, no pushing, no force of any kind -

But definitely expectant.

Without Bill saying anything, Dipper can feel his arm tense up with anticipation, awaiting a reaction. Probably something flattering to Bill’s ego, or worshipful of his presence.

Truth be told, Dipper might have even given one. Despite all his reservations about the chaos god beside him, it is impressive.

But he can’t say anything. There’s nothing to write down a worshipful chant on. He’s tired and hurt and he’s been walking what feels like all day. Finding focus is hard.

Dipper scrunches his face up, rubbing at his eyes. Things went all blurry for a second, and he has kind of a headache.

What does he do, another smile? But Bill said that was ‘flaunting’. and maybe that’s not great. Another expression, maybe. Some kind of gesture. Body language has a lot of options and… he’s run out of ideas for that. Maybe his brain really is working with too-little fluid.

“Hmm…” Bill rubs his chin, glancing at Dipper - then staring out into the room again. His eye narrows.

Shit, right, this was meant to impress. Dipper, fumbling the devout test for like, the millionth time in his life. Only right now, when it truly matters, he’s too messed up to manage even if he tried.

Before Bill can get too mad, Dipper hunches over. Looking contrite might stave off the worst of it. He can make himself look small.

There’s a long beat of silence. Then Bill claps him on the shoulder. “No worries, kid. This ain’t my first time with a human wandering in with mortal wounds and a poor sense of grandeur! You can tell me how great I am later.”

The rush of relief Dipper feels is immediately ruined by Bill dragging him forward again. So much for a true reprieve; infinite being of pure energy means never stopping for a second of rest, apparently.

“I got just the thing for a squishy little nervous wreck like you,” Bill says, striding forward confidently towards one of the walls, and a door Dipper’s 90% sure wasn’t there even three seconds ago. “We’ll stash you here until you’re more settled down!”

The door opens, and Dipper’s led into a small, dark place. He can make out vague, squarish shapes in the dim light. Thankfully none of them look too imposing.

Another snap, and the room lights up.

For the second time in about as many minutes, Dipper’s totally thrown.

“Kitchen’s through there, bathroom’s thataway,” Bill says, gesturing in the respective directions. He gives Dipper’s shoulder a squeeze, jerking his thumb behind himself. “I’ll be back out this way if you get bored!”

The words run though Dipper’s brain, but he’s not truly focusing on them. The room he’s in has most of his attention. No matter how he looks at it, though, he can’t see any traps. It just looks…

Comfy?

The light reveals a smaller room than the living one, and one that’s far less dramatic. None of the tchotkes lying around. Basically zero ostentation. There’s a wardrobe and a bed, a dark blue carpet rather than the black. A desk, some papers, and an absurdly large and obsessively organized looking bookshelf. The two doors Bill mentioned lie closed, on two different walls.

Dipper’s not sure what he was expecting, but. The simpler decoration, the small but cozy setup - none of which fits Bill’s taste, that’s clear even on a glance. This isn’t meant for the god himself.

Now there’s a question he’s never considered before: Does Bill Cipher ever have guests in his realm?

The answer must be ‘yes’, strange as it seems. Nothing in here is Bill’s vibe, but it might fit a human that he needed to stash somewhere.

Beside him, he hears a low hum. Bill’s hand runs down Dipper’s shoulder, onto his back. It strokes down, then up again - then pushes him forward. “Enjoy!”

Dipper stumbles a couple steps before catching the footboard of the bed. He leans against it, blinking rapidly.

“Now, I got a quick errand to run, so take your time getting comfy. Cram some calories in, wash your crevices, take a nap. Whatever human stuff needs doing.” Bill looks up from checking his watch, then gives him a wink, backing out of the room with double finger guns pointed. “See ya soon!”

The door closes behind him without even a touch on the knob. The room goes quiet.

Dipper cocks his head to one side. Bill’s absence is just as palpable as his presence. That powerful thrum of magic trails into the distance as he heads off, fading in Dipper’s senses, like a too-loud stereo speaker in an obnoxious, demonic car.

After a moment, he shucks off his robe - with the sleeve torn off, it’s weird and uncomfortable. That leaves him in just soft pants and his undershirt, but thankfully with considerable privacy.

As long as he’s here, Dipper does a quick inspection of the room. The bed’s bigger than any one he’s ever seen, minus the one that’s presumably Bill’s. The wardrobe contains a baffling array of flannel shirts, in that they’re almost all identical and oddly… worn? He shuts the doors with a shrug. Hardly the most intimidating find.

A thorough overview reveals no traps, no knives. The sharpest thing in the room is the pens. The worst thing that could happen to Dipper here is a papercut. Or maybe stubbing his toe on the heavy furniture.

It’s been a few minutes. Dipper glances at the door Bill retreated through. Still closed.

He hears no sound from the other room, either. He strains to feel some magic returning, a bloom in his limited senses, but it’s calm and quiet.

Whatever Bill’s up to, he’s long gone.

Leaving Dipper totally unsupervised.

Dipper instantly darts for the opposite door, opening it fast enough that it nearly unbalances him. It swings opens easily, totally unlocked, and he braces himself as he stares -

Into a kitchen.

A big one, at that. Lots of cabinets, a fridge, a stove, knives hanging on the wall in what looks like a rather ominous manner, until Dipper remembers that’s where knives are supposed to be. Though maybe not so many of them.

Also, totally not an exit.

Fine, whatever. They couldn’t all be exits, and there’s another to try.

Dipper rushes over to the second door, yanking it open to reveal… exactly what Bill said, again.

He lingers this time, leaning on the knob. Rubbing at his eyes briefly, in case that ruins the illusion Bill’s cast. It doesn’t have any effect.

It’s - this is way too straightforward. It has to be some type of trick.

Pretty weird for it to be so clean, then.

Any bathroom Bill has should be blood-splattered, or filled with bubbling acid - but this one only smells faintly of bleach. It’s lined with black and white tiling, with a shower that looks overly complicated and a bathtub that could fit several people inside. At least there’s no knives in this room - though Dipper does see a safety razor, resting on the sink. Right next to the cup holding the blue toothbrush.

He slams the second door closed, and takes a deep breath.

Maybe he’s disoriented. Maybe Bill turned everything around when he left, like every other corridor in this chaotic place, and maybe if Dipper yanks opens the third door -the one he came through - it’ll cleave between the realms, back into the ritual room, where -

Dipper leans on the doorframe, slowing down his breathing. He shuts his eyes, lips drawing into a thin line.

Or it could just be. Literally the exact same one he came in through.

Standing in the doorway of Bill Cipher’s personal quarters, Dipper frowns at the fireplace. And at the painting over it. Especially at the even more grandiose door that presumably leads to the god’s master bedroom. It’s beautiful, alright, Dipper can’t argue with that - but also ostentatious, and reeking of smug power.

It’s very quiet inside, too. No motion, no magic.

After a bit of hesitation, he leans his head in, checking both ways.

No Bill around, at all.

He must have actually taken off, instead of lying in wait, ready to surprise… The person he told exactly where he could be found. Which isn't much of an ambush, come to think of it.

Dipper lets his arms drop to his sides, then winces and rubs the bandage on his recently stitched one.

When he came into this place, he had a lot of expectations. All of them were backed up by years of knowledge about Bill Cipher. His likes and dislikes, unpredictability, and his bizarre proclivities.

So far, Dipper’s seen… not a safe place, by a long shot. But way less dangerous than what he thought he’d face.

In fact, aside from the trip to get here and parts of the medical experience, this has been way too normal.

Bill Cipher is a being veiled in mystery, or, depending on your viewpoint, mischief. Never totally meaning what he says, rarely acting like you’d think. Even in the most stodgy of ceremonies, the priest had to leave room for the fact that Bill’s not very… conventional. The research Dipper did on his own had similar things to say. Between sermon and study, that alone has been a constant.

Dipper taps his foot on the floor. The carpet remains soft and nonthreatening. The fireplace crackles warmly, and does not consume the room in a terrifying blaze.

What is he supposed to make of all this?

The priest claimed that only he could interpret the subtle signs of Bill’s true meaning, and what actions to take. He was dead wrong about that. Courtesy of the god he claimed to understand, for that matter.

The rest of the congregation can’t offer any insight, either; they’re back in the compound - but frankly? Dipper wouldn’t trust them to interpret a microwave timer, much less their god.

According to scripture, it takes ages of experience, along with deep personal knowledge, to even begin to understand Bill’s motives. One young human like Dipper would never stand a chance.

But if he’s here anyway…

Dipper traces his fingers along the wall, making his way quietly, cautiously, into the room.

Why not get started? It’s not like he has anything else to do.

Having something to study will help pass the time, as long as he’s here. And with this wealth of information in front of him, who could resist?

As he walks into the place, he doesn’t burst into flame, or turn inside out, or get tossed into an eternal void of constant screaming. So, it’s probably okay.

He takes a deep breath, and lets it out. It only shakes a little.

Besides, navigating around an immortal being of eternal knowledge can’t be that different from sneaking around the compound. All evidence so far is that Bill’s actually friendlier about it.

One thing’s pretty certain - he’s not likely to obliterate a guy he’s just spent several hours getting ‘settled’. If anything, he’s sorta intimated that Dipper’s a ‘guest’. Bill’s likely not magically bound to the rules of hospitality, but violating them is pretty universally gauche.

The thought makes Dipper’s shoulders drop. He pats the wall a couple times, then checks his wrist. The bright yellow triangle stays still, overly-large hand still giving a thumbs-up.

Dipper rolls his eyes. Okay. There’s one fact learned - Bill Cipher’s capable of being kind of a dork.

This could actually be pretty intriguing. Useful, perhaps. In the heart of Bill’s home, with all of his stuff lying around - like that pile of books near the couch, or that pile of dishes he saw in the sink, or the fact that he even has a guest room, what the hell is with that -

Dipper can get firsthand information. No more dilapidated scrolls, or censored books, or scrounging around outside to find objective sources.

Bill Cipher, as far as Dipper can tell, actually lives here. In these exact rooms.

He can try and hide the truth as much as he likes, or lie to Dipper’s face, but he can’t hide his living room. Hanging out in your own place is the most authentic anyone can be, god or not.

With that in mind, Dipper gets to the investigation.

Without context, it’s hard to discern what most of the objects around mean. Whether they’re regularly used, or just for display. Until Dipper sees Bill actually interacting with the stuff he has, he’ll just file that information away for later.

About three circuits of the living room, Dipper catches sight of the portrait above the fireplace again. The one with Bill himself, crowned and stepping on the world. Scepter in hand, his single eye beholding -

Ah, right. The eye thing.

Dipper backs up, very slowly. As a parting gesture, he throws a little wave at the portrait, and another ‘cute’ smile.

Then he darts right the hell back into his room, and pulls the door along with him. He lets his head drop back against the wood, and closes his eyes.

Shit. Shit. Of course he wasn’t roaming around freely. There was oversight.

Hopefully Bill’s busy enough to not have cared about a couple minutes of ‘wandering’. As far as he knows, that was, uh… Dipper got lost, right. That sounds believable. Maybe he was even looking for Bill himself.

But snooping? No, definitely not. Why would anyone do that.

Welp. That’s about that, then. Three doors, three results, and zero exits.

Sure, it’s possible that Bill’s room does have a way out, but between the odds of being caught, and the odds of getting lost in the twisting, recursive corridors if he did manage to find it -

Yeah, Dipper’s going to pass.

He saw the other ‘guests’ around this realm, and they didn’t look like the types to leave blood on the inside.

On the upside he’s survived the night. Morning. Whatever time of day it is.

Bill wants Dipper alive, which is strange and confusing and more than a little concerning- but it’s also a huge weight off his shoulders.

Dipper turns to pull the door fully closed behind him, then hesitates.

After debating for a bit, he settles on leaving the door slightly ajar. Hearing when Bill comes back seems like a good idea, while keeping him out doesn’t.

But if Bill were to, say, see a door semi-open and shut it himself, then hey. Kinda his fault for not paying attention. No blame on any humans here.

Ugh, Dipper’s losing focus again; he shakes his head to clear it. His legs feel sluggish too, after the long journey and the.. ‘Getting lost’. They stumble as he takes another step.

After such a long day. After getting hurt, and dragged around, and everything else that’s happened, he’s just so tired.

Just like during the sacrifice, he has to focus on the real priority - and right now? It’s not the immortal, insane demon god.

With a weary sigh, Dipper looks for a place to sit down.

Even pulling the chair out from the desk seems like an ordeal. And while the bed’s far too large for just one person, it's here and empty. Presumably Dipper’s meant to use it, anyway.

And when he takes a seat, it doesn’t leap up to bite him. It doesn’t release any poisoned spikes when he tests the mattress with a quick press of the palm, or snap closed around him when rolls on top of the sheets. The blankets are smooth, without a hint of scratchiness.

Dipper breathes in, and lets it out slowly. He rubs a hand on the top blanket, patting it once or twice, before letting his eyes shut.

It’s just. So, so soft.

Weirdly springy too, compared to his old cot. A mixture of sink and bounce, so that Dipper almost feels like he’ll get absorbed into it like jello, or get thrown out of it if he moves the wrong way.

Shifting his weight, Dipper frowns as he tucks the pillow under his head. How could anyone sleep on something like this? It’s totally impossible.

----------------

Dipper wakes up with a damp pillow under his cheek, a slight headache in his temples, and a sore and aching wrist.

He rolls onto his side with a groan, moving to a drier section of pillow.

Great, he drooled in his sleep again. Super gross. Another reason that not having a tongue sucks.

It’s warm in the room, though, and quiet. His head hurts, so he needs some water. And his wrist hurts, too. Which isn’t surprising after being sliced open.

What’s more surprising is that he actually managed to get some rest afterwards. The whole compound is full of people celebrating or arguing after a ritual goes down. Usually there’s some of both, but right now it’s so quiet that he could swear nobody’s -

With a snort, Dipper jerks his head up off the pillow. He props himself up on his elbow, rubbing at his eyes.

Shit, of course. He’s not in the compound anymore.

Nobody is around, because he’s been taken away by their literal goddamned god, and stowed in this too-big, too-normal room in this alien place. Without other worshipers, who would… probably make things worse, if he’s being honest.

Dipper stuck here, fending for himself. He’s been subjected to… minor medical attention. And a nice bed, and a drink. Not to mention having his first uninterrupted nap in ages.

Thinking about it, it’s kinda hard to see a downside.

One will make itself known eventually. Dipper’s not so naive as to think this is altruism, not from Bill Cipher.

As he sits up, the blankets fall off him and pool into his lap, heavy and soft. For a moment, he’s tempted to pull them back up and curl into the nice, warm bed, under the gentle covers.

But that’s probably not the best idea, considering.

God, he can’t believe he just fell asleep like that. In the house of a nightmare demon, Dipper just went and dropped off like a total, vulnerable moron.

And shit, it’s dark in here.

He doesn’t remember turning off the lights. Or where the lightswitch is, for that matter. He can sort-of make out the furniture around him, some kind of ambient illumination, perhaps. A bit of light also shines out from the closed door leading to Bill’s room.

Somewhere in there, he hears footsteps, and then silence. The feel of that powerful magic, leaking in like the light under the doorframe.

Dipper fiddles with the edge of the blanket. Some kind of quilt, he guesses, one that’s faintly frayed at the edges. It’s very soft.

At minimum, he’s been in Bill’s house for several hours. His best guess puts it between half to all of a day, depending on how long he slept.

Despite all Dipper’s learned about the god’s unavoidable wrath, and his infinite, changeable whims -

It hasn’t been too bad. So far.

Dipper rubs his fingers together, leg jogging under the sheets. Eventually he realizes he’s pulling threads out of the quilt, and hisses through his teeth.

At some point, the other shoe will drop. Bill Cipher is capricious, his favor doubly so.

And nothing ever works out in Dipper’s favor, not even once.

But maybe, if he works at it now - he might be able to make some headway. Hiding away in the bedroom won’t help with that.

Getting up out of the bed is an effort, but his legs feel steady on the floor and his vision is clear. Dipper takes a deep, calming breath. He turns the knob, and peeks out into the room

“Hey hey! Look who’s back in the waking world. In a way.” Bill waves at him with a bright grin. Great, Dipper got spotted basically instantly. “Get over here! I need ya to check this out.”

There it is. His first order.

Dipper shuts his eyes, and walks into the room. He swallows, and drops into the fist form of ritual bow, knees thumping on the carpet.

This absolutely sucks. The one minor upside is that there is a carpet; Dipper’s not going to ruin his knees if he has to do this ten times a day.

Hanging around a god, he’ll be lucky if he spends any time not bowing and scraping and generally genuflecting. Though the idea makes him burn inside, he grits his teeth.

He can cope. He’s been through worse. If nothing else, Bill’s more interesting than the daily grind back at the compound. Albeit in a semi-terrifying way.

“Huh.” Bill says. Dipper mentally checks his posture, but no, it’s perfect. Wait - he forgot to press his hands together, right.

“Huh.” Bill says, this time sounding…

Not very thrilled.

Freezing in place, Dipper runs through his options. In a better world, he’d be able to start doing some chant or whatever, but that’s off the table. A quick peek at Bill shows that he’s not impressed, so. Read that right.

Also not very good. What else is there, though, what can he -

A long, heavy sigh interrupts his thoughts. Bill’s started rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. A totally devout kinda guy.” Bill’s voice is very dry. He taps one impatient finger on the table. “Really feeling all the religious passion, here.”

The clear sarcasm makes Dipper wince. God, of course Bill isn’t fooled. Seeing into the hearts and minds of men as he does, one small human is transparent as hell. He knows exactly what Dipper thinks of him, doesn’t he.

Shit, he’s likely seen everything.

“But sure, if you’re so devoted, you should get up already.” Bill’s tone lightens, and he gives a quick beckoning gesture. That eternal smile bounces back into place. “C’mon, kid. You can’t scrape your nose on the carpet and check out what I asked you to.”

Dipper scrambles to his feet, brushing nonexistent dirt off his pants. It’s a decent excuse not to meet the god’s eye.

He shuffles slowly forward until he stands next to the god. Logically that should make him nervous. He should be sweating and terrified -

But damn it, Dipper really hates genuflecting, and Bill’s total lack of interest is actually, maybe, kind of cool of him.

For a bright moment Dipper thinks there might not be any of that sort of thing, until a robe flops to the ground in front of him.

Ah. A not-very-subtle hint, there. Dipper takes a breath to steady himself -

Then a second robe right on top of the one on the ground. And a third. A fourth follows that nearly hits a cabinet on the wall, and Dipper decides he probably missed the mark.

Bill’s not making a point. He’s just messy.

“Jeez, with this many robes, you’d think they could make a few of ‘em fashionable.” Bill lets out a low whistle. When Dipper glances over, he’s rifling through those cardboard boxes with a frown. “Accessorize! Embroider! Stain ‘em with ichor! This crap is just boring.”

All their robes were pretty identical, but that was the point. To lose one’s individuality, and become a perfect servant for the god. Bill doesn’t sound as appreciative as he should be.

And where the hell did he get all of these, anyway?

The boxes on the table are dilapidated, reused cardboard. None of it matches the style or the reality of this… apartment? House? Something?

Bill chucks yet another robe over his shoulder with a snort. “And don’t get me started on the shape. Or the color!” He sticks his tongue out, letting a final robe dangle from his fingers like he’s holding a dead rat. “I woulda picked something way cooler.”

Whatever his definition of ‘cooler’ is, Dipper doesn’t want to know. Bill catches his skeptical look and Dipper quickly tamps it down.

That single golden eye blinks, then he beckons Dipper closer with a grin. “Get over here, sapling. I gotta know if we’re dealing with the full inventory or not.”

There goes Bill, again. Talking about something without giving Dipper any context for it whatsoever. Likely that’s a sign of things to come.

All the books about Bill Cipher say he’s ‘cryptic’. Now Dipper’s wondering if that was supposed to be a euphemism for ‘annoying’.

Dipper squeezes his hands tight at his sides. Not the kind of thing he should be thinking. Instead, he nods, and checks the boxes as requested.

His god continues messing with the contents, plucking out this and that. Another robe, discarded easily. He sets aside a small ritual set of candles, a setting for ritual offerings. All very distinct. They could have come from Dipper’s own congregation, they’re so familiar.

Wait - but they are.

He remembers Bill asking them to pack up stuff, distantly. He didn’t think about what it was for, other than, like, another weird god request.

But these aren’t just anyone’s things.

No, he recognizes that robe, with the chewed-on sleeve, and that set of trinkets. Hell, all of said robes have similar wear and tear, the same, slightly oversized look.

Dipper glances at the boxes, then back to Bill. Though he can’t speak to ask the question, it must be obvious in his face.

“Yep! This is your stuff, Pine Tree.” Bill points a finger gun, giving Dipper a wink. “I asked those imbeciles back in your cult to grab it for ya. Since you’re staying here with me, and all.”

Dipper’s mouth works, but no sound comes out; he shuts it quickly. Bill, uncaring, flicks a finger at a candle and watches it light with a smirk.

He just- Said it.

Bill Cipher himself called his religion a ‘cult’.

He actually admitted it. Under any other circumstances that would be absolute blasphemy, but the ‘god’ himself just casually tossed out that the entire stupid religion is kinda full of it and he isn’t even bothered by it.

Dipper wants to sit down, but there's no chair nearby. He braces himself on the table instead.

“Don’t get it wrong, I’m still the biggest, baddest being you’ll ever meet! But your group of losers pretended to speak for me.” Bill continues. Something about Dipper’s shock seems to have caught his attention. He throws his arms in the air in disgust. A carelessly held candelabra goes flying. “When I wanna give orders, I handle that crap myself.”

Dipper nods again, kind of numbly.

Yeah, that - that actually tracks. The gap between the Bill he was told about, and the Bill that is, is too vast to be ignored.

Obviously Bill’s weird, it’s part of his basic makeup - but if anything, he matches up more with the Bill that Dipper read about in forbidden texts, instead of the one heard at every sermon. And that…

Honestly, it feels pretty good. Being right. Or right-adjacent; Dipper’s not naive enough to think he has the whole picture yet. Still, being more correct than anyone else? Makes Dipper almost smile.

It’ll get clearer. There’s time, he’s not dead yet.

And who the hell knows what else Dipper’s going to learn, while he’s staying in Bill’s home. The only thing he can predict is that half the things will come totally out of left field.

A nudge on his side catches his attention again. “So! Does this cover everything, or do I gotta nightmare some guys into coughing up the rest?” Bill twirls a thin candle between his fingers idly, and raises an eyebrow. “Anything you wanna keep, or stuff you wanna obliterate?”

The startled look on Dipper’s face must surprise him, because Bill blinks a few times. “What? It’s your crap, sapling.” He offers a half-bow, and a wink. “Your gracious host here, at your service.”

Wow, uh, that - Dipper has to turn away for a moment. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling oddly -

Damn it, getting distracted is bad. He has to shape up. Bill might decide he’ll be less gracious if Dipper doesn’t freakin’ focus, now’s not the time to look incompetent.

He offers Bill a shrug, and a noncommittal wave, then tilts the closest box towards himself.

If he’s going to figure out what to do with his things, he might as well check what’s shown up. A part of Dipper’s surprised that there’s this much of it.

Actually... there's that miniature altar that ‘disappeared’, and a pair of shoes that walked off by themselves. A scattering of little baubles, mostly bare-bones ritual stuff that everyone got handed out. Even though Dipper’s seemed to roll down a grate or get flushed somehow.

Guess Bill’s order really got people motivated to find his things. There’s stuff here that hasn’t made an appearance in ages.

Nearby, Bill’s put on his expectant look again. Dipper’s getting used to it.

Whatever Bill’s looking for, he hasn’t bothered to explain it in the slightest. Much like every other interaction with the guy. It must be pretty good though, because there’s a tinge of eagerness to his expression.

Dipper turns away to poke at the items on the table.

He almost feels bad that he doesn’t know what Bill’s looking for. Even though there’s no logical reason he should. Mind-reading is Bill’s thing, not his followers’.

Well, whatever. Bill can put that face on all he likes. Unless he has a few helpful hints on hand, he’s just gonna have to wait.

As for the possessions - A quick evaluation of the first box of stuff reveals… mostly things he doesn’t care about either way. On the other hand, he’s never had this many things before, and it would feel weird to just. Dispose of them this easily.

But then again…

He never has liked the robes.

Tentatively, Dipper points at the cloth on the floor, then cuts a finger over his throat.

Bill made his opinion on them clear, so. If he agrees. Maybe Dipper actually won’t need them during his stay in this -

A sudden burst of blue flame startles him; Dipper jumps in place, going tense.

Noted - be careful about inviting Bill to destruction, because he does not hesitate.

“Great!” Bill claps his hands together, rubbing them vigorously. “Half done - now let’s wrap this up and move onto something more fun.”

Patience must not be Bill’s strong suit, because he turns the boxes upside down, dumping everything out on the table. A few broad swipes spread it over the wood, a careless tumble of what’s, honestly, mostly junk.

Some of it was clearly just tossed in to make the box more full; the top layer is all stuff from the ritual room. As for the stuff that is his, well. How much of it could he actually need? There’s candles, a bunch of knickknacks that he didn’t even like when he was still in the, well. Cult. There’s a thick worn notebook, and his journal with its slightly tattered cover and the bookmark still in place -

Shit. Shit, shit shit.

Dipper’s heart leaps into his throat. He glances at Bill, then back to the table.

How did they find that, it was under the loose rock in the corner. Did they know all this time that he had this. Did they not care, or was it truly hidden and only discovered later. How the hell did it survive all the way here?

However it got here - that’s. All his notes, all his research. All his thoughts, lying there for Bill to -

Wait. Bill. Hasn’t noticed, yet.

He’s picked up a tiny brass necklace. His eye narrows as it dangles from his fingers. Not surprising; it is a pretty awful portrayal. The angles are anything but even.

And while he’s distracted, Dipper makes a grab for the books.

He times it right; as Bill tosses the necklace away and into the fireplace, he slides both books across the table, tucking them into his pants and under his shirt.

Not the first time he’s hidden contraband - and probably not the last. A quick check on Bill shows a totally nonchalant demon, slightly bored with the junk in front of him. Either he truly didn’t notice - or doesn’t care about what Dipper pulled. Either one’s a win.

Dipper feels tension seep out of his shoulders, and he shuts his eyes.

Compared to the god of fury and torture Dipper was taught about, the true god is relatively even-tempered. So far.

But he already knows how bad it gets, when something terrible is spoken about his god. There’s no way Bill would like reading what Dipper wrote about him.

“Aha!” Bill exclaims, and yanks his latest prize out of the pile, holding it in the air. “Knew there had to be something good in here.”

Dipper takes one look at whatever’s got Bill so enamored - and makes a face.

Oh no. He forgot about…. that.

“Maybe being ‘devout’ isn’t your style, but there might be a better term.” Bill’s sharp teeth are white in his smile. He flicks one of the ragged felt arms, squeezing the yellow ‘torso’. “How’s ‘obsessed’ fit ya?”

The stupid awful Bill Cipher plushie dangles limply in his grip. As Bill gives it another squeeze, some more of the stuffing puffs out. Worn as it already is, with one of the legs missing and the pupil in the eye worn away, it makes the entire thing look twice as pathetic.

Dipper staunchly resists the urge to hide under the table. It’s too late anyway. He’s not escaping this now.

Who the hell decided to pack that? It’s ugly and stupid and juvenile. If Dipper had been able to choose what he brought along, he would have deliberately left it behind. Maybe burned it, so nobody else would know he still had one.

As it stands, he’s torn between being glad it’s here - and totally goddamned humiliated.

He makes a quick grab for it, but Bill dodges him with a grin.

“Ah ah ah! Nice try.” He waggles it again, beaming bright. “I knew it! You’re super interested in me, aren’t you? Was this little guy your favorite? Didja cuddle up with him in bed every night?”

Asshole probably saw all of that happen, and now he’s taunting. Dipper grits his teeth, hands clenching by his sides.

Damn it, it’s not Dipper’s fault there weren’t a lot of soft things in the cult. Who cares if he had something that made his life suck a little less? Especially one that flatters Bill himself. If anything Bill should be pleased, knowing he got some devotion from this less-than-pious human- but instead he’s being an ass about it.

“I’m right, of course.” Bill says, with smug certainty. “Ol’ mini-me here got oodles of affection, didn’t he?” He rubs his chin thoughtfully, backing up as Dipper turns around the table corner in pursuit. “Now let’s see…”

Dipper sucks in a breath, watching Bill bring it to his face. His teeth bared in a sharp smile, mouth slightly open.

Bill shuts his eye, and puffs a breath over the plush. For a second Dipper thinks it’s about to be consumed in fire, he stumbles forward in protest.

But though it’s blue all over, it doesn’t burn. As he watches, the hole in the side closes over, stuffing concealed. Some of the minor stains come out, the stitching of the bricks turns black and pristine. The second leg dangles beside the other, the eye is full and renewed and only maybe blinks.

Dipper stops his chase, pausing with his hand on the table.

That plush hasn’t looked anywhere near that good since he was little. Bill acted like it was nothing to him. Bill thought it was funny. He could have turned it into nothing, just for kicks - and it’s.

Every time he thinks he knows what Bill Cipher is up to, his expectations get turned upside down and shaken for loose change. Dipper doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

Bill looks over his work with pride, picking up one of the arms to shake it. “Nice to meet ya, Bill! I’m the real, better Bill.” He pauses, then nods solemnly, as if it responded. “Yeah, I am the greatest. Glad you noticed!”

And in a stunningly unsurprising turn of events, Bill’s also going to be obnoxious about this.

Bill brings the plushie right up to Dipper’s face, pitching his voice higher. “Oooh, Pine Tree, I’m so glad to see ya! You’re my favorite human.” He lifts the felt arms in a floppy invitation for a hug. “I love you sooooo much!”

Dipper feels his lips draw into a thin line, while Bill’s mouth arches up in a grin.

“What’s that?” Bill cups his ear as if to hear better. “You want a kiss?” Dipper shakes his head, but not before Bill starts mashing the stupid plush against his cheeks. He tries fending it off, but Bill’s quick enough to find every gap in his defenses. Also, he’s making exaggerated kissy sounds. “Mwah mwah mwah!”

Dipper snatches the stupid plush from Bill’s stupid hand, then turns right on his heel and storms back to the guest room.

Behind him, he hears Bill cackling with laughter.

He knew he was in for some kind of trial. A type of torment. What he’s faced so far hasn’t been terrible. Or much at all, compared to when he was back with the congregation.

This god isn’t quite the creature of eternal nightmares and torment that he was always told about. Instead he has other motives, ones too strange and subtle to interpret. Dipper should be thankful.

A glance backward shows said god slumped on the couch, cackling to himself with one hand on his forehead.

But Bill sure thinks he’s fucking hilarious.

Dipper slams the door shut, as loud as he can. It doesn’t quite block out the continuing laughter. He slumps against the door, letting out a long, tired sigh.

Great. He doesn’t know what else he expected.

Bill Cipher’s a total asshole.

#I meant to get this done quicker but my body betrayed me with illness #Probably coulda done another editing pass but I am tired and need a nap #Apologies for all of this; My November was kinda bad and then I compensated by writing Hella Fluff #Gotta wait till next part for Bill to find out the reason Dip's so quiet #That's going to be very fun :3c #For me that is #Uhhh anything else that I can add as a fun note #There's one particular scene that made me go yeah this is a good reason to write a shitton of words to get there #Because I am a fool #Hope this was fun to read you guys!! I am gonna take a friggin' nap

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otomehonyaku · 1 month

Text

Diabolik Lovers Grand Edition Tokuten Special Booklet Short Stories ☽ Mukami ver. ☽ The Rainy School Night Mystery

Original title: 雨降る夜の学校の怪 English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the scans (special thanks to @karleksmumskladdkaka!) Sakamaki ver. ☽ Year-End Pandemonium (coming soon)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This short story booklet was part of the limited edition release of Grand Edition! Keep reading below the cut for the second short story, featuring the Mukami brothers. I will translate the Sakamaki one at a later date!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Droplets of rain tapped against the window panes and quickly converged into small streams, drawing curved lines on the glass on their way down. The rain had started the day before yesterday and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Maybe that might have been why, by the time the oppressive humidity began to make everyone feel uneasy…

“Hey, Kitten. I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

With a smile bright enough to wipe away any worries caused by the weather, Mukami Kou—the idol with a household name—approached Komori Yui in a friendly manner. His presence caused a stir among the other students around them.

Yui grabbed Kou by the sleeve of his uniform jacket and quietly uttered, “Kou, we’ll stand out if we talk here…”

“Alright!”

Yui was puzzled by Kou’s unusually good mood, but followed him to a spot that would keep them away from prying eyes.

“Kou… Did something happen?”

“I heard a very interesting rumour. I thought I’d ask you about it, too.”

“A rumour?”

“Yes! It’s a little strange for this time of year, but it’s about a ghost story. Apparently, most of the students and teachers are familiar with it. Have you heard about it?”

“No… What’s it about?”

As soon as he realised Yui was completely oblivious, Kou gleefully talked away..

“Apparently, when it’s very late on a night of endless rain, when most people have left the school… strange sounds start coming from one of the classrooms.” Kou lowered his voice in an attempt to stoke her fear. “Nobody knows exactly where the sounds are coming from. It could be an empty classroom, the art room… You can hear it from various places depending on the day.”

“And… it couldn’t just be a burglar?”

“That’s what I thought, too, but I haven’t heard anything about things going missing, and even if that were the case, wouldn’t the police have been involved already? There’s also rumours going around about it being the students’ own doing, but apparently there are scratch marks in the rooms where the sound came from. Like, in places higher up than the curtains, so people generally wouldn’t be able to reach that high.”

With the odds of it being a student prank getting smaller by the minute, Yui’s throat grew dry. She swallowed loudly.

There shouldn’t be any sounds coming from an unoccupied room. The first thing that came to Yui’s mind was an unscientific explanation—something she would rather not think about.

“So, you mean… it’s a ghost?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! People are saying it might be a ghost.”

“But couldn’t the sounds be coming from the building itself (1)? I heard that ‘strange sounds’ people hear inside their houses are usually just the rattling of the building.”

“But that’s so boring, Kitten! Ghosts are way more interesting than rattling houses! Besides, people think it’s a ghost for good reason.”

“W-what reason…?!”

The way Kou purposefully explained it to her with such kindness, patience, and in such detail, made Yui shiver. A broad grin spread across the vampire’s face as he pulled Yui’s body closer while surveying their surroundings as if he was afraid of being caught, and started whispering into her ear.

“Some students have already snuck into the building at night as a test of courage, and apparently they saw dark shadows along with the strange sounds they heard. If it had been only one or two students spreading the rumour, it wouldn’t be a very credible story, but when so many people have had the exact same encounter, it’s difficult to still call it a trick of the mind, right? There’s also some students who claim they saw arms wrapped in bandages emerge from the darkness, at the exact timing that the lightning struck outside.”

“Oh…”

“Hm? What’s wrong, Kitten? You look a bit pale.”

“It’s because of your strange story…”

“Hehe! How cute. It’s going to be alright, Kitten. I’ll be by your side, after all.” Kou met Yui’s frightened eyes and shot her a sweet smile to put her at ease. “I’ll protect you. So… it has been a bit boring with all this rain lately. Shall we do some nightly exploration of the school for ourselves so we can figure out the truth behind the rumours?”

“What?!”

“Come on, let’s go!”

“W-wait a minute! Where are we going?”

Kou, who would not have taken ‘no’ for an answer either way, grabbed Yui’s hand and hurried pulled her along, down the hall. He swiftly dodged the students who were already starting to head home at this hour.

“W-wait! Slow down…”

“But there’s no time like the present, right? Besides, if we don’t hurry, my fans will only try to pull me aside. Let’s go to the others quickly!”

Kou led her in the direction of a far-away third-year classroom.

When the two of them walked through the door, the other Mukami brothers were already there. Yuma was straddling a chair, Azusa lingered by the window, and Ruki stood leaning with his back against the wall, his arms crossed.

“Hi, everyone! Sorry to keep you waiting. I brought our little Kitten!”

“You’re late, Kou. I was this close to goin’ home, even though you urged us to stay here ‘n wait.”

The discontent was plain on Yuma’s face. Kou muttered a half-serious apology to him and let go of Yui’s hand.

“Eve… did you run on your way here? You sound… out of breath…” Azusa tilted his head slightly to the side in concern for Yui.

“I’m okay, Azusa. Thank you.”

“Kou… If you need something from us, why gather us on campus?”

“Hehe. That’s because I need you all to be at school for this, ” Kou said, still beating around the bush.

Ruki glared daggers at his brother. Knowing he could not hold it off much longer, Kou decided to explain the situation.

“I was talking with Kitten about this earlier, but I heard an interesting story and I’d like you to know about it too! Have you heard the rumour that a ghost is haunting the school?”

“The one that’s making strange noises at night? I heard my classmates talkin’ ‘bout it.” Yuma clearly just wanted to know what mischief Kou was up to, making the blonde’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

“Oh, so you already know. Word certainly travels fast among the third-years.”

Ruki had a glaring suspicion about Kou’s intentions and decided to drive the point home before his brother could do it himself. “I suppose you weren’t going to ask us to look for the ghost with you, were you?”

“Hehe, bullseye!” Kou smiled broadly.

“Seriously? It’s just a rumour, though,” Yuma replied, sounding exasperated.

“How old are you? Don’t get so excited about this, Kou. Ghosts do not exist.” Ruki was referring to the fact that when someone dies and the moment their body perishes, a peculiar thing called the ‘soul’ perishes along with it. Ghosts were merely ridiculous fantasies; illusions invented by humans. Only ignorant children would be afraid of them… right?

However, Kou had already expected this reaction from Ruki and did not back down.

“Heh… I don’t think it’s good to decide that ghosts aren’t real without confirming anything ourselves. Right, Kitten?”

“Huh…? M-me?”

“Do you really believe this nonsense?” When Ruki turned to her, Yui instinctively straightened her spine.

“Not necessarily, but… It sounds a little scary, I think, but whether they’re actually real is another thing…”

“Kou, do you… really think the ghost… will appear? It might have just been… a trick of the mind, you know?”

“Of course I don’t believe the ghost actually exists.I don’t sense any other supernatural presences around here either, besides ourselves and the Sakamakis. Doesn’t that make you all the more interested in the hype around this ghost story?”

Ruki’s curiosity was piqued, if only a little, at Kou’s words. “Hm… You do have a point.”

It was easy to dismiss urban legends like this right away, but if there was a reality to this particular ghost story, that would change things.

“And what if people besides us are purposefully stirring up a ruckus at the academy? We can’t let that slide, right? So, I want to expose the truth behind these rumours! It won’t be fun if it’s just the four of us, though, so that’s why I brought Kitten with me.”

“I-I’m not going! Walking around the empty building at night sounds scary enough already, let alone when an actual ghost shows up…”

If the Mukami brothers could barely even make sense of the situation, didn’t that mean there was an actual chance a ghost was haunting the premises? When Yui thought of it like that, a chill ran down her spine.

“Heh, sounds fun!” Yuma put a hand on the back of the chair he’d been straddling and stood up with great vigour. “If she’s coming, I’m in, too!”

Yui was taken aback by his enthusiasm. “Yuma?!”

“I knew you’d come around, Yuma! Hey, Ruki. Please join us!”

“Alright. I do not care for ghosts, but I agree that we have to find out who’s causing all this trouble.”

“Right? Azusa, you’re coming too, aren’t you…? Azusa? Hello—?

“...”

Even as Kou’s eyes intently watched Azusa’s puzzled expression, the younger brother still didn’t answer. He raised a hand to his mouth as if in deep thought. Thinking it strange, Yui instinctively called out.

“Azusa?”

“Huh? Ah, I’m sorry… If you’re all going… then I will join you.”

“Great, that settles it! Let’s wait here for a bit until the school empties out.”

“H-hold on a second… Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Your opinion does not matter. Were you thinking of going home all by yourself, then?” Ruki said.

“Oh…” Met with four stares that left little room for protest, Yui reluctantly went along with their plans.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Several hours passed.

By the time all lights in the academy had been turned off and the emergency exit signs were the only source of light in the halls, the five began their search. The building had fallen completely silent. Only their footsteps and the distant sound of the rain outside could be heard.

Kou pulled Yui along by her hand and walked slightly ahead of the others.

“Hey, Kou… I don’t like going first.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll be even scarier if something appears…”

“It’s okay, really! You can lag behind if you want, but something might creep up behind you.”

“L-like what?”

“Who knows? But I’m right in front of you and Ruki and the others are right behind you. Don’t you think this is the safest position for you to be in?

Though Kou encouraged Yui to move to whatever position she wanted, she felt unable to do so. She decided to quietly follow behind Kou. They had been walking around the school for a little while now, but had not noticed anything out of the ordinary yet.

Fed up with their aimlessly walking around, Yuma began to complain. “Hey, Kou. Nothing’s happened so far.”

“You’re too impatient, Yuma. We haven’t even been walking around for that long.”

“I feel no other presences nearby, nor have I heard that particular ‘sound’ you were talking about. Do you think it’s wary of us?” Ruki whispered, frowning as he surveyed his surroundings.

“Hey… If this really is a ghost’s doing, what do we even do? It probably won’t worship us or anything…”

Ignoring Yui’s worries completely, Yuma clutched his stomach and could not keep from bursting into laughter. “Pff, haha! You dummy. Why’d it worship us?”

“Because—isn’t that what they say about ghosts? That they worship people?

“Then they’d only worship you.”

“What…?”

“They only worship people, right?”

Yui tilted her head to the side, not quite understanding what Yuma was saying right away, but Ruki filled her in.

“Because we are vampires, after all. Besides, I don’t understand why you would be afraid of something as abstract as ghosts.”

“But… You never know! They might worship vampires too!”

While Yui desperately clung to her theory, Azusa and Kou decided to rub salt in the wound.

“I think… we’re stronger than ghosts, though...”

“I know, right? I think they’d be repulsed rather than worship us.”

“Ah…” With nobody agreeing with her, Yui felt her position becoming more and more vulnerable. On top of being forced into this situation, she was the only one who was actually scared.

Kou watched her intently, an almost reproachful expression on his face. “Oh, this won’t do. Even if you pout at me that way, I’ll just think you’re cute. But hey, I’ll protect you whatever happens, so stay calm, alright?” He winked at her in a way only an experienced idol could.

When Yui thought about it, being surrounded by four vampires—former humans, but still—probably was the safest position for her to be in, oddly enough. There was no way vampires would lose to an intangible ghost.

However, precisely because they were dealing with something intangible made it difficult for Yui to suppress her nerves. She desperately fought to keep the fear from overtaking.

The five walked around for a little while longer, Yui securely in the middle, but nothing happened.

“This is weird… Maybe it really is wary of us, like Ruki said. I wonder if it doesn’t like being ganged up on by a large group of people.”

“How about we split up then?”

“Right! If we go in small groups, the ghost might be more motivated to come out.”

“What…?! I don’t like the idea of splitting up.”

“We’re not asking for your opinion. That said, you would be in trouble if we left you alone, so… Yuma?”

Yuma looked puzzled when Ruki called his name. “Huh? What, Ruki?”

“Keep her company. If one of us goes with her, we’ll be able to swiftly deal with any unforeseen situations.”

“Yeah, true… Alright, Kou. We’re switchin’.”

Kou complied with Yuma’s demand, though the displeasure was clear on his face. The blonde might have rebelled against this change if Yuma had been the one to ask, but Ruki’s orders, on the other hand, were simply to be followed.

“Ah, what a shame. I was looking forward to holding hands with Kitten for a little longer.”

Kou reluctantly let go of Yui’s hand and surrendered his spot to Yuma.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that, Yui and Yuma split up from the rest of the group and began exploring the school anew.

It’s so quiet when it’s just the two of us walking around… Not feeling brave enough to speak up, Yui kept quiet and followed Yuma. I hope we can meet up with the others soon… If the ghost comes out now, I wonder if we’ll make it to them if we run.

“Hey, Sow… Why’re you shufflin’ behind me the entire time? Go out in front.”

“What?! N-no! I can’t!”

“There ain’t no way in hell that ghost is real, so no need to be such a scaredy-cat. You’re only makin’ yourself look more like an idiot.”

“I-I don’t care if I look like an idiot…! Some things are meant to be feared!”

“Ha! There ya go again… If I wanna leave , I’ll leave!” As if to get the irritation out of his system, Yuma banged his fist against the wall beside him.

Yui’s eyes snapped shut for a brief moment, but she did not flinch when she returned Yuma’s gaze, his face suddenly much closer than before.

“But…”

“But what?”

“Don’t you think… if vampires exist, then ghosts might exist too?”

“Hm… Sounds pretty funny comin’ from you, but nah, they don’t exist.” One corner of Yuma’s mouth curved upwards into a mocking grin. He let out a laugh. He seemed pretty convinced that ghosts were not a thing of this world.

CLATTER—!

“...!”

A clattering sound suddenly came from one of the classrooms. It startled Yui, making her tremble. “That wasn’t… in my head, was it?”

A lick of ice-cold fear slid down Yui’s spine. She quickly hid behind Yuma.

“You… Why’re you hiding? You’ve got some guts usin’ me as a shield.”

“B-but…” She could not find the words to speak—she was simply too scared. She crouched in on herself behind Yuma in an effort to hide.

The sound seemed to have come from the empty, unused classroom near them. It was pitch-black. Nobody seemed to be inside.

“I’m gonna go look.”

“What?! W-wait, Yuma!”

Yuma ignored Yui’s pleas and opened the door to the classroom. He thoroughly inspected the room, but still, there was not a soul in sight. As though expecting someone to be hiding, Yuma set foot into the classroom.

“Y-Yuma, don’t! It’s dangerous!”

“Ha! You’re scared shitless, aren’t ya? Just wait here. I’ll only have a quick look inside.”

The only thing coming in from outside was the sound of the rain. Not even a sliver of moonlight fell into the room. The ominous darkness gradually swallowed Yuma’s form whole as he walked farther away.

Oh no… If something comes out at me, I’ll…

Yui’s heart hammered against her ribcage, and just when her eyes inadvertently fluttered closed—she felt something brushing up against her leg. Goosebumps rose on her skin. She couldn’t keep her voice from leaking.

“Eek!”

Yuma rushed back when he heard her cry out, but still found no traces of anything lurking in the shadows close to where Yui was standing, nor in the deserted classroom.

“Damn, don’t scream like that! I thought somethin’ happened!”

“B-but… something… touched my leg…”

“What?! What the hell was it?”

In the end, the two never figured out what it could have been. The sky, still clouded with heavy rain, slowly started to become brighter.

“Shit. It’s close to mornin’ already. Hey, Sow? We should get back to Ruki ‘n the others. We’re done for today.”

“For today? You don’t mean…” A heavy sense of dread fell upon Yui, but she did not need to finish her sentence.

The anxious look on her face made Yuma’s lips curl up into a sadistic smile.

“We’ll be back for round two tomorrow.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next night, Yui was accompanied by Azusa on their rounds through the school hallways. Yui kept a tight grip on Azusa’s left arm and had no intention of letting him go.

“Eve… If you hold on to me like that… it’s a bit difficult to move…”

“Oh! I-I’m sorry, Azusa! I’m still not quite used to this…”

“...”

“Azusa?”

“Ah… What is it…?”

Yui was even more unsettled by Azusa’s restlessness. He’s been lost in thought the entire time, she thought.

“Hey, Azusa? Is something wrong…? You haven’t seen the… g-ghost, have you?”

“Huh? Oh, no… I haven’t.”

“Ah… That’s a relief.”

“Are you… really that scared? Then… here.”

“Huh…?”

Azusa came to a halt and pulled Yui into a hug with his other arm, gently patting her back as he whispered into her ear. “Eve… I’m here with you. Even if something comes after you… I’ll protect you. But… are you maybe worried… that it’s just me…?”

“No, not at all… Thank you. I think I might be a little less scared now.”

“I’m glad… to make myself useful.” Azusa smiled softly, but then his gaze quickly shifted to the window.

He really is worried about something… I wonder what’s gotten into him…

Once again, the night ended without them coming any closer to finding the source of the strange sound.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Along came the third night of exploring the academy.

Carefully calculating when the building would empty out, the five once again split up and made their rounds. The never-ending rain had abated into a drizzle for a brief moment, but before long, it was pouring once again. The weather showed no signs of letting up.

“It really won’t stop raining. It would be nice to be able to see the moon, though…”

The night sky was covered by heavy rain clouds. Yui had been looking out of the window while she was walking down the hall, but in the meantime, Ruki—who had been right next to her only a moment earlier—had already put several steps in between them. Yui half-ran to catch up to him.

“You seem awfully careless today. Have you already overcome your fear of ghosts?”

“N-not exactly, but… This is the third day already, so it’s getting a little… Ah!”

Maybe Yui’s attention slipped because she was relieved to walk beside Ruki again, as she suddenly stumbled and nearly fell over. Ruki immediately extended his arms, swiftly catching Yui and keeping her from falling.

“T-thank you…”

“If you let down your guard like that, bad things will happen—like this, for example.”

“Huh…?”

The ominous tone of Ruki’s voice caught Yui’s attention. She tilted her face upwards to look at him.

Ruki looked pointedly somewhere behind her, nodding in the same direction as if to urge her to do the same. Yui’s hands were braced on his upper arms as he held her, and her grip only tightened at the thought of something being at her back.

“I-is something there?”

Yui was hit by an indescribable wave of anxiety. Her breath involuntarily caught in her throat, but she bolstered her resolve and gingerly looked over her shoulder.

There was nothing but the long, dark, gloomy hallway stretching out behind her.

“N-nothing’s there, right? Wait, were you… Huh…?”

“You said you’d gotten used to it, right? I figured I’d test you. It seems like you don’t have your fear under control just yet, though.”

“Ah…!”

Yui’s cheeks flushed bright red. Had Ruki really been toying with her, even though he knew she was scared?

“That’s not fair…! You can’t just play with me like that… I’ve gotten a little more used to walking through the dark hallways, but you know I’m scared of ghosts…!”

Yui crouched down on the ground, her face between her knees, both mortified and scared beyond her wits. Any regular male student might have been worried, might have tried to calm her down, but Ruki showed no signs of showing her such kindness.

“Don’t make a fuss. How long are you going to sit like that? If you don’t feel like moving, I’ll leave you here.” Quickly dismissing Yui’s worries, Ruki did not bother to cast her another glance and began walking away.

“Oh… W-wait up!”

Not knowing where to direct her fear and frustration with being ignored, Yui’s head was full of chaos. Still, she would not be able to bear being left alone like this, and so she hurried back to Ruki.

Yui felt herself grow stiff while she walked behind him. Just then, a strange sound reached her ears.

“...Did you hear that?”

“It came from that classroom. Do you want to check it out?”

It was a different sound from the one she had heard with Yuma the day before yesterday. This one clearly sounded like someone was rummaging around… and it kept going.

“Ruki…”

“There’s definitely someone here.”

Ruki opened the door to the classroom with great force.

The moonlight did not quite reach the room because of the heavy rain—it was darker than the hallway had been—and the unoccupied desks and chairs were nothing but eerie silhouettes.

When Yui’s eyes had gotten used to the darkness, though, she saw someone standing there with her back to her—someone familiar. Recognition struck her.

“Huh… Azusa?” The words just slipped out.

At Yui’s surprised voice, Azusa slowly turned around to face them. He looked just as surprised to see them. “Eve… Ruki…”

“Azusa? What are you doing here?” Ruki took a step forward and had barely finished speaking…

And then, it happened.

“Found you—!”

Yui looked in the direction of the voice reverberating through the hallway, she spotted Kou running towards them. Their eyes met. Kou raised his voice as if he’d known all along how this would end.

“Grab it, Kitten!”

“What?!”

Yui followed Kou’s finger pointing ahead. A small, black shadow darted out in front of him. Kou had clearly ordered her to catch it, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it right away. While she stood there hesitating for a moment, the black shadow collided with her chest on its own.

Out of sheer reflex, Yui wrapped her arms around it immediately. It felt heavier than she’d thought, and softer to the touch. The unexpected sensation almost made her drop it, but she regained her posture and held it tightly.

“Nice catch, Kitten!”

Kou was out of breath, having run at full speed, as he pointed at the black lump in Yui’s arms. “That’s… the cause… of the ghost story… the source of the sounds… is that cat.”

Yui suddenly realised she was holding a black cat. Its tail pointed upwards, the fur fluffed up as it eyed Kou suspiciously. In an effort to calm down the evidently upset cat, she gently stroked its back. “It’s okay… Don’t be scared…”

“Wow… Have you seen the way it’s staring at me?” Kou breathed.

“Isn’t that because you were chasing it?”

“I had to! Of course it’s going to run if someone tries to catch it.”

“Hey, hey! What’s with all the—what the fuck! What’s that black thing?”

Yuma burst into the room after having heard the commotion. Yui had only just managed to calm down the cat a little, but in response to Yuma’s voice, the black cat’s tail fluffed up again.

“Whoa, that’s a pretty rough-lookin’ cat… But wait, what’s a cat doing on campus?”

A nod from Ruki confirmed his brother’s unspoken suspicions. “If this cat is the cause of the ghost story going around, I wonder how it managed to sneak into the academy and cause such an upheaval.”

If the cat had snuck in while the students and teachers were on campus, it could not have gone unnoticed. The fact that nobody was aware of a cat on campus must mean that it had snuck in sometime late at night, when the school was already empty.

However, that still begged the question how it came in. The campus was built in such a way that it seemed unlikely for the cat to have come inside easily. If that was the case, maybe someone had purposefully lured the cat inside and hidden it from everyone…

How did this little one even get here…? Yui was at a loss as she stared at the black ball of fur in her arms, but the only response she got from it was a loud meow.

Azusa, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly joined the conversation. “I’m sorry… Actually, this cat… is here because I was… looking after it…” He apologetically raised his right hand.

“Huh? Azusa, you’ve been taking care of this cat…?”

“Yeah… I’ll talk you through what happened…” Azusa began explaining the origins of the ghost story and how the cat had infiltrated the school. “About a month ago… I found this cat in the school courtyard, but…”

Azusa’s story went something like this: one day, he had found a weakened black kitten. He had given it something to eat and soon began to look after it. Even after it had mostly recovered, the heavy rain continued to fall, and Azusa had felt the need to keep checking in on it out of sheer worry.

As he suspected, the cat had fallen ill again after a while. Azusa had pitied the little black cat and made sure to gently stroke it and talk to it. Eventually, he brought it to this classroom so he could take better care of it.

“Oh, Azusa, you’re too kind,” Kou said, carefully approaching the cat so as to not startle it, and petted it. The cat seemed to have gotten a little more used to him. It was more docile now, allowing Kou’s gentle touch.

“That’s not… true… In the end, I only… ended up scaring the cat…”

“What do you mean?”

“When the cat became healthier… I got a little careless… After it escaped from this classroom where I’d been taking care of it… I lost track of where it went…”

“So that means this cat roamed the school at night, and the kids mistook the sounds it made for a ghost… and that led to the ghost story?”

Azusa nodded in response to Yuma’s question. “I think those sounds… must have been the cat running away or playing around… and when I couldn’t find it for a while… it must have been hiding somewhere… because it was scared…”

“Yeah, that’s fair… It’s pretty scary to be chased around, after all.”

Kou nodded exaggeratedly, but the brothers’ reactions were pretty mild overall, as though these kinds of things happened on the regular. Yui thought it strange, but tried to gloss over it by shooting Azusa one more question.

“The students were talking about an ‘arm wrapped in bandages’ poking out from the darkness… So that was…”

“Yeah… They must have seen… me. As soon as I heard the rumours about the ghost… and knowing about the cat, it just clicked… so, lately… I’ve been looking for it by myself…”

“Ha… so that’s it. That ghost story was brought to life just ‘cause of Azusa and this black cat.”

“Good grief… You certainly caused trouble.”

With all questions answered, Yuma and Ruki looked even more exasperated than before.

“Azusa… Of all places to take care of a cat, you should not have done it at school. If you’d just taken it home, it wouldn’t have caused such a stir.” (2)

“I thought it might… bother you…”

“Well, that’s Azusa for you. But this wouldn’t have inconvenienced us at all! We’re brothers, right?” Kou said light-heartedly in an effort to cheer up Azusa, whose eyes were downcast.

“Of course. Don’t be so reserved, Azusa.”

Touched by the kindness of his brothers, Azusa smiled cheerily. “Yeah… Thank you, all of you…”

“So, uh… What do we do with the cat?” When Yui handed the cat over to Azusa, it began loudly purring in his arms.

“How about we bring it home with us?”

“I don’t mind either.”

The cat could suffer a grim fate if we leave it here like this and someone else finds it… What if it becomes weak again? What if it dies?

“Ruki… Would it be alright if we took it home?”

Everyone’s eyes naturally shifted to Ruki.

“We can’t decide that so easily. If the cat belongs to someone who lives somewhere around the campus, shouldn’t we return it to its home? Don’t they say that dogs tend to be attached to their masters, and cats are attached to their homes?”

Ruki had a point, but Kou was not yet convinced, especially seeing how Azusa felt for the cat he’d been taking care of for so long. “But look how attached it is to Azusa…”

“Thank you, Kou… I’m alright… The cat’s happiness is… the most important, after all…”

“Well, if Azusa’s fine with it, then I’m fine with it… Ah, I’m so tired from chasing the cat. Hey, Kitten. Can I lay my head in your lap (3) when we get home?”

“What?!”

The subject of the conversation shifted from the cat to something else so quickly that it almost gave Yui whiplash.

When Yuma joined in as well, it became even more confusing. “Hey, Kou. You’re not the only one who’s tired! You don’t get to keep all the fun for yourself.”

“But I worked really hard, you know? Don’t you think I deserve to ask for a small reward?”

“I don’t. I ran pretty damn hard myself! Hell, I was the only one who actually ran.”

“What? How do you know? I definitely ran the hardest!”

“Nah, I did!”

“I’m telling you, I did!”

Kou and Yuma’s bickering escalated quickly, neither of them realising their fight was getting farther and farther away from the issue at hand.

“Christ, this is not worth fighting over.”

“But… it’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”

Ruki averted his eyes, clearly fed up with his brothers’ antics, while Azusa warmly watched over the two.

It would be nice if they forgot about the laying–his-head-in-my-lap thing, too… Yui thought. When her gaze flicked to the window, she noticed that the rain that had plagued the city, pouring incessantly for days on end, had let up.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A little while later, the black cat left the campus, and the ghost story that had haunted the academy quickly receded into the students’ and teachers’ memories.

THE END

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

家鳴（やな）り：Lit. the ‘rattling of a house,’ meaning things like creaking windows, the air vents, the sounds you sometimes hear when the walls or window panes expand due to moisture or heat, things like that.

Not a translation note but Ruki, sir, with your history of ‘taking care’ of cats, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea…

膝枕（ひざまくら）: Lit. ‘knee/lap pillow,’ meaning to use someone’s lap as a pillow, laying your head in someone’s lap.

#this story was so fun to translate omg. azusa my BABY!!!!!#and i also want ruki to scare the living daylights out of me tbvh..... please......#i tend to take some (small) creative liberties when translating longer texts just to make the story flow better btw #so other japanese-speaking people: pls don't come for me haha #also i'm sorry for being so slow this week my summer break is over and i had to get back to work again so i've been a little tired aaa #next up is something very exciting though............. which i'll also be able to release in smaller parts!#diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers translations #diahell #otomehonyaku #my translations #mukami ruki #ruki mukami #mukami kou #kou mukami #mukami yuma #mukami yuuma #yuuma mukami #yuma mukami #mukami azusa #azusa mukami #diabolik lovers grand edition

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