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astro-nomaly · 2 months ago

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Attack Dog: You're an Angel, I'm Your Dog

BOOM it's here. Minimal editing as usual but it's like 7k so leave me alone. Here's part one of this sub-au if you're interested.

@ren-cerati @highbookwormofthecentury @mother-spore-missa @flirty-anon @chaotetothecore @dumb-about-legos @pinkyprom3is @lithgns (you seem vaguely interested in this au lmao)

For context this takes place in some vague period of time wherein Akita is attacking Lloyd like every other night to basically coerce him into using his powers and getting stronger with them. She's already fallen into the trap of 'legitimately caring about the person I'm supposed to be manipulating' so. yeah. this is actually the first thing I ever thought up about this au so it was fun to write :D

CWs: toxic/abusive relationship, physical abuse, non-sexual restraints, emotional abuse/manipulation, victim-blaming, magical slavery (? non-sexual), kinda dubcon kissing, dehumanization, humiliation, background stalking, the weirdest most fucked up toxic yuri I could've imagined. I'd like to iterate that Harumi is NOT a good person whatsoever at this point in time. Content under the cut

Attack Dog AU: You're an Angel, I'm Your Dog

Akita quietly slipped through the broken wooden boards blocking the entrance to her new home in wolf form, slinking beneath rot and moss. She did so silently, like every other day.

The Quiet One — Harumi Hutchins, so Akita had been told — was sat in front of her vanity, silently applying vanity to her porcelain skin. They shared this space, the two of them. An abandoned church, built over a century before and left to rot with mildew and termites. It had once been very beautiful, and Harumi saw that as a challenge.

Only about two or so months ago, the small church had been falling apart, infested with rats and roaches. Half-dead vines had hung to the exterior in vain, forced to give way to the encroaching fauna that colonized the interior. Every cracked and grimy window was boarded up with bent nails, and the pews inside were broken and toppled without a care in the world.

Well, Harumi Hutchins didn't tolerate it. Akita had come to learn that her new… boss had a system in place, and thankfully a very simple one: nothing less than perfection. Everything had a place, and if it didn't, then Akita had better find one. The Quiet One didn't tolerate dirt, mess, or so much as a hair out of place. Within the next two weeks, the interior of the church was practically sparkling, and had been kept as such since.

Much to the Quiet One's chagrin, they couldn't do anything about the exterior of their new home. Appearances had to be kept up, after all. But the inside? Harumi went wild. She had polished every surface until it shone, dusted every spidery corner, and set up no less than three tea sets. Her vanity, of course, held a place of honor on the raised dais at the back wall of the church where Akita was told human preachers would, well, preach. Personally, she didn't get the 'hype', as Lloyd would say.

That was yet another strange thing about Akita's new life: Lloyd Garmadon, the Conduit and possibly her best friend in the world. Lloyd was completely indescribable, though that might just be Akita's lack of imagination. Harumi did say that she 'had no vision'.

But Lloyd was nice to her. He understood her without needing her to speak, which Harumi didn't like since Harumi didn't like 'people stealing her thing', whatever that meant. He could put up with her constant stream of too-loud words when she was too animated, and he didn't mind her one-syllable responses when she wasn't in the mood for conversation. He just… got her, in the way only one other person ever had.

And, well. She wasn't exactly getting any bear hugs from him anytime soon.

She buried the instinctive guilt that curdled in her gut at the thought of Lloyd. He couldn't just be her friend — he had to be her enemy, too. The Conduit was both her and Harumi's target, and that meant it was Akita's job to trick him day and night until he was under their control.

She hated manipulating him. One, she was no good at it. Two, it made her want to puke. She was hurting him, no matter her intentions, and it made her feel sick. She so desperately wanted to tell him the truth, but she was under strict orders not to. Not for the first time, she sort of regretted giving Harumi her Name.

She shook her wolf head, burying that as well. This was for the good of her brother. Once the Conduit made her brother whole again, they could be friends for real. Lloyd would understand. He understood everything, without ever needing words.

She shook off her wolf form, growing in height as she grew human skin and limbs. The fluffy white ears remained atop her messy black hair, as did the three white, red-tipped tails. She brushed away a stray strand of white hair on her wrist. She slipped off her book bag, which Harumi insisted was necessary for human school. Why, she could not fathom. It was not as though Akita used anything inside of it. She hung it on its designated hook, slipping off her shoes beneath it.

Harumi glanced up from her fancy mirror, in the middle of dragging mascara over her white eyelashes. She smiled, beckoning Akita over. "You're home! C'mere, puppy." As always with everything Harumi commanded, the tug of their bond pulled in Akita's gut. She could practically feel that hard-light collar around her throat. She swallowed, burying that as well. She trusted Harumi.

Somewhat. Usually. At least as far as Akita could reasonably throw her.

She obeyed Harumi's implicit order, back ramrod straight as she carefully walked through what she knew were Shade-infested waters. She hated those damn things. Changelings usually couldn't stand the liminal in general, but Shades especially freaked her out. Maybe because they weren't ever really sentient in the first place. They didn't obey the liminal out of some sort of compulsion or willingness — they just weren't conscious enough to refuse.

She stood behind Harumi as the taller girl swiped thick mascara over her lashes. "What'cha think, puppy?" She asked, glancing at Akita's reflection in the mirror. She didn't seem to actually care for Akita's response or opinion, which always frustrated her, and Harumi knew it frustrated her. Akita hated not being able to know when people actually cared for her thoughts or were just talking to themselves.

This was just another instance of Harumi being mean. The girl was always mean. Not in the really cruel way that Chen was to Lloyd — and oh how Akita reveled in threatening that stupid human boy for touching her pack — but in the nice, teasing way. It sometimes felt condescending and patronizing, but that was just how Harumi was. Akita had learned to deal with it.

"It is… nice," Akita said softly, choosing the safe route. Harumi hummed, tilting her head. Her long white hair, pin-straight and silky-smooth as always, drifted over her shoulders elegantly. Akita was violently jealous of how effortlessly graceful Harumi could be.

"Mm," Harumi capped the mascara, leaning back in thought. "Black is so… basic, though. Red wouldn't stand out… pink matches my eyes, but that might clash with the getup." Akita listened to her talk — not ramble, because Harumi despised any insinuation that she was ever anything less than the picture of poise — without really absorbing the words. Harumi did that — talked circles around her meaninglessly. It was easier to zone out and pretend she understood instead of looking stupid.

But she caught the last word. "Getup?" She asked reflexively, cursing her big mouth when Harumi gave her that condescending look. The one that said Harumi knew how much smarter she was. Akita had never been good at reading people, but Harumi made it painfully obvious when she was being mean.

"Mm-hm," she hummed, despite knowing that Akita didn't like the hum-responses because they didn't make sense. She leaned into the mirror, wiping away the mascara she'd already applied and uncapping a new one. "I'm going out with you tonight, pup. Thought I'd pay the Conduit a visit. I mean," she smirked at Akita through the mirror's reflection, obviously reveling in the discomfort she'd caused the changeling. "It's unfair that I know so much about him and he's never even met me, isn't it?"

Akita bit back a whine. She didn't want this. She didn't like it when Harumi made plans without telling her, even if it was Harumi's job to make the plans. Like the Quiet One had said: she made the plans, and Akita followed them. That was their dynamic. Harumi, here, scheming and studying and keeping all her complex thoughts locked up tight while Akita lied to her best friend.

So it made her upset, that Harumi was breaking the dynamic. Why was she doing this? Why was she changing things?

"W-why?" She asked tentatively. Harumi didn't answer at first, occupied with her makeup. Her lashes had been turned pink by mascara. It matched her pink irises, bordered by black sclera. Harumi sighed, wiping off the mascara again.

"Like I said," Harumi replied, uncapping her usual white mascara. "Thought it was time I introduced myself. Can't make a bad first impression, right?"

"R-right."

Harumi finished with her mascara, smiling slightly. Then her thin eyes drifted to Akita, and narrowed. She casually uncapped a tube of lipstick, swiping it over thin lips. She studied her reflection with scrutiny. "Ugh," she hissed quietly. "This color… c'mere, doll," before Akita could process anything, Harumi's hand lit up with the tell-tale light of the red collar. It flourished around Akita's neck, the lead wrapped around Harumi's thin fingers. Akita made a strangled sound as Harumi pulled her down carelessly, pressing their lips together. Her eyes widened as Harumi pulled away just as quickly, studying Akita's lips in disinterest.

"Mm," Harumi murmured, eyes narrow. She pushed Akita away again, just as carelessly as before. The changeling stumbled, lips still tingling. Harumi paid her no mind, wiping off her now smeared lipstick. "Wrong color," she muttered to herself.

Akita blinked, shaking fingertips pressing to her own lips. They came away stained the color of Harumi's lipstick. She tried to calm her rapid heart and the confusing fire in it. She could never understand why humans did certain things, but wasn't kissing a mating thing? But Harumi had never had any concept of personal space or boundaries, so maybe it meant nothing. Whatever it was, it had Akita off-kilter, a bobbing raft at sea. Harumi was always doing this — messing with her, sending weird signals and barreling past boundaries.

Not that Akita was allowed to have boundaries when it came to the Quiet One.

Harumi smirked in the mirror's reflection. "Suits you, though," she teased. Akita burned red in the face. She shook her head, desperate to get herself back under control.

"What-" her voice cracked and she swallowed, starting over. "Aside from… meeting him," she said, "what are you planning to do to Lloyd?"

"Just call him the Conduit," Harumi said, leaning into the mirror as she applied a new color. "Really, you'd think changelings would be better at separating lives, huh?" She laughed to herself. At Akita's insistent look, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, calm down. Nothing worse than what you do." She popped her lips, now primed with dark lipstick that would match her clothes. Right now, she wore a sleepy t-shirt that hung off of one shoulder, making her look so much nicer than she was. As always, a weird part of Akita wanted to bite that shoulder until it bled the color of her own markings. Maybe she missed biting her brother and the comfort that came from it.

Maybe she just wanted to hurt Harumi.

Harumi stood, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She smiled down at Akita, a few inches taller than the stockier changeling. "But things have to move along eventually, puppy. If the Conduit is ever going to do what we want, he needs some incentive." She patted Akita's head, scratching her ear. "Don't worry your sweet head about it, m'kay?"

Akita flushed with a jerky nod, stepping back awkwardly. Harumi always made her feel so… small. Small, and stupid, and utterly helpless. Without Harumi, Akita was unmoored in a hurricane. With Harumi, she was in the eye of the storm. Calm for the moment… but it could always shift and have her floundering again. She would do anything to stay in the eye, even if it meant getting dragged around by the neck.

Harumi hummed to herself, rustling through the wardrobe she had set up. Akita rubbed her arm, shifting nervously. She didn't want Harumi to meet Lloyd. She wanted to keep Lloyd in their own little world, separate from the confusing whirlwind that was the Quiet One. Lloyd was already dealing with enough when it came to Red. Did he really need the genius sociopath thrown into the mix as well?

She swallowed, eyeing the tattered hands of Shades that instinctively curled up toward Harumi from the floor. "…Rumi?" She called softly. Harumi glanced over her shoulder, one thin brow arched.

"Yes, doll?" Akita buried that, too. Harumi never stopped using patronizing nicknames for her, but Akita knew using Harumi's nickname would get her to listen to Akita more. Yet another strange facet of their dynamic.

"Maybe…" she took a deep breath. She was better than this, right? She could be strong. For Kataru. For her friend. "I want to tell Lloyd," she said firmly.

Harumi's hands dropped the purple and black gi as the Quiet One turned to face her. Her pink eyes sparked with hidden danger. "What." Her voice dripped with venom, and Akita was violently reminded that she wasn't the only shapeshifter here.

Nerves prickling, Akita answered again, "I want to tell Lloyd that I'm Red. I don't like keeping secrets from him, and I don't like scaring him."

Silence rang between them. Harumi didn't so much as blink as she stared at Akita. Her face betrayed no emotion. She slowly stalked toward Akita, each step causing another jolt of anxiety in Akita's stomach. She bent over Akita, white hair falling in a curtain around their faces as one pink nail dug into Akita's soft chin. A warning.

"And what, pray tell, makes you think it matters what you want?" Harumi whispered. The sound sent shivers down Akita's spine. She swallowed thickly, trying not to think about the claw that pressed into her skin.

They were friends. Akita knew they weren't friends like she was friends with Lloyd, but they were friends. That's what friendship was, right? Comforting one another, being together? Sharing contact? Well Harumi shared so much contact it made Akita want to rip her skin off, and they lived together, and Harumi comforted her every time she dreamed of Vex. Harumi had given her revenge and a solution to her problems. Akita didn't know where she would be without Harumi, so she had to trust that the Quiet One would hear her out on this. They were friends, and friends listened to each other.

She ducked her chin, slowly stepping away from the threatening nail. Harumi watched her like a hawk. "He is my friend," Akita repeated. "He is kind to me. He is a good person, and- and I don't want to lie to him anymore."

Harumi stared at her for another long second before she suddenly burst into laughter. Akita stiffened, curling back defensively as Harumi laughed in her face, shaking with it. She wiped a fake tear from her eye, glaring at Akita with a mean grin. "He isn't your friend, mutt, he's the Conduit! You think- what? That he likes you?" Akita bit the inside of her cheek. Harumi shook her head, still giggling. "Please. He likes the version of you that I created. If anything, he likes me."

"That is not true!" Akita shot back. "Lloyd is my friend, Rumi. He understands me."

Harumi sighed through her nose like Akita was a frustratingly naive child. "Oh, puppy," she drawled. She flicked her wrist and the collar appeared back around Akita's neck. The changeling yelped as she was dragged back into Harumi's cold embrace. Harumi's cold fingers gripped the sides of her jaw, holding her in place with deceptive strength. "He doesn't understand you. Let me say it in a way you'll understand: he doesn't like your clothes or hair or personality. He doesn't like your interests, and he doesn't give a fuck about your problems." All the while, that pretty porcelain smile glared down at Akita. She tried to duck away, but Harumi's nails just dug deeper, leaving the skin raw and red. "Wanna know how I know, puppy?"

Akita jerked back but the leash didn't budge even a bit. She bared her teeth at Harumi, watching those dangerous pink eyes flash at the sign of disobedience. "Let go," Akita growled. Harumi tsked and jerked her closer, her entire palm now squeezing Akita's cheeks.

"Because none of those things are yours, mutt," Harumi continued as if Akita hadn't said anything at all. Her ears pinned back over her head at the venomous tone. How could a person sound so cruel and look so kind?

"They're mine. I pick your clothes, I pick your hair, I decide what your personality is. Everything the Conduit thinks he likes about you is something I specifically curated to make him."

Harumi leaned in, lips barely brushing her hair as she whispered into Akita's wolf ears. "Akita as he knows her doesn't exist. There is only me and what I want."

Then she pulled back, releasing Akita entirely. The changeling stumbled back, holding her throat. Her heartbeat roared in her ears as she stared at Harumi. The person she thought she knew…

Were they friends?

Was she right? Were all of Akita's friendships just a lie? She'd never been able to connect with anybody before, so why would they be different?

She wanted to hunch, to duck down and accept it, but she couldn't. Lloyd was her friend.

"Not true," she said again. Harumi looked at her like she was a rambling idiot. Akita's fists clenched at her sides. "That's not true. I- I know things about him even you don't, Rumi."

Pink eyes flashed. Harumi tilted her head, one hand slowly thumbing her gemstone necklace. "Oh? But how, puppy, is that possible? Unless you've been lying to me-?!" Akita choked as the collar dragged her to the ground. She hit the ground hard, crying out as old wood dug into her arms. Harumi snarled as she snatched the lead up until Akita was forced to stare up at her from the ground.

"How dare you," Harumi hissed, an inch from Akita's nose. The changeling tried clawing at the lead, but Harumi's foot mercilessly came down on her hand, pressing it into the floor. Akita yelped as Harumi snagged her by the hair, jerking her head back up. "You've been going off script! Do you actually believe he'd like you?! You, the changeling? Red?!" She barked with laughter as Akita whined at the pain in her skull. "It's like you don't even comprehend your own stupidity!"

"Get off!"

"Oh no," Harumi hissed, winding the lead around one wrist as she jerked Akita to her feet. Akita tugged back, a growl building in her throat, before Harumi pushed her back. Before Akita could get her bearings, Harumi's foot brutally kicked her down the dais, sending her sprawling to the ground.

Akita gasped, the wind knocked out of her as her head hit the ground. She trembled, propping herself up on her forearms weakly. Harumi stood still on the dais, coldly observing her. From this angle, she was shroud in darkness.

"I don't think you comprehend what's going on here," Harumi said quietly. Akita shivered at the cool tones of her voice. She had this uncanny ability to make everything feel cold and silent. Akita rubbed her neck, inching back. "See, we have a deal, mutt. You do what I say, and in return, I make the Conduit put brother bear back together." Akita couldn't help the low growl at the mention of her brother.

Harumi lifted her amulet, pink wisps of smoke flowing from it and into her pale palm. The silhouette of a man and bear circled one another. Harumi plucked the human silhouette between two fingers, squeezing it into thin particles. "It's like you don't even want him back," she whispered.

Akita lurched forward, desperation burning in her chest. "I do-!"

"Then why are you trying to jeopardize the mission?" Harumi demanded. "If the Conduit knows what we're trying to do, he'll book it!"

Akita sucked in a ragged breath, flicking back and forth between the still-present bear and Harumi. "He won't," she breathed. She used a pew to pull herself to her feet. Why couldn't Harumi understand? "I- we're friends, Rumi. If I explain everything, he'll agree to help! H-help us both."

Harumi glared at her with pink slits for eyes. Then she turned her palm over, letting the silhouette of her brother's bear form fall to the ground. She walked over it without a care, crushing the illusion underfoot.

"No," she said simply. "He won't."

Akita flinched. "But why?" She asked desperately. Everything was too tight, too much. Why was Harumi being so cruel? Isn't this what she wanted too? Akita was supposed to be making the Conduit strong enough to carry out Harumi's plan, but wouldn't the Conduit be stronger if they could be transparent? She just wanted to tell her friend the truth. "He'll listen, he will! Lloyd is nice to me-"

"That's all it takes, isn't it?" Harumi whispered. Akita had barely noticed how close she'd gotten. Harumi stroked Akita's cheek, making her flinch again. She couldn't forget how those hands had manhandled her. Harumi paid it no mind, just continued touching. "Somebody to be nice. Doesn't matter who, or why…" Akita pulled away, but Harumi just followed with that mean grin. "You're so pathetic, puppy."

"Stop," Akita muttered. She didn't.

"I have plans," Harumi said. "Plans that you're too stupid to understand. That's how it is, and it's good, isn't it?" Akita's eyes burned as Harumi stroked her hair condescendingly. "I handle the hard things, and you do what you're good at: biting who I tell you to bite, like a good dog. So if you give even half a shit about your brother-" she tugged Akita's hair, making the changeling whine as her head was violently ripped to the side. Harumi leaned in, the scent of her strawberry mouthwash filling Akita's nose. "-you'll do what I fucking say," she finished.

With that, she left. She let go of Akita and turned around with a little spin, her hair flowing over her back as she went back to her wardrobe. Akita breathed heavily, her chest constricting and limbs aching, but Harumi ignored her.

Like a good dog.

Akita realized, watching Harumi hum as she picked out outfits with a self-satisfied smile: Harumi wasn't her friend. Humiliation burned inside of her, tears pricking in her eyes. Harumi had never been her friend. She had never comforted Akita to be nice, and the constant hugs and kisses and pets weren't out of affection. Harumi didn't like her like a person, she liked her like a pet.

Harumi wasn't the nice kind of mean that meant they were friends. She was just mean.

Her breath hitched as tears began falling. Every instance of vulnerability she'd afforded Harumi, every time she'd curled up next to Harumi in bed after a nightmare, every time she'd confided in her-

She hiccuped again, face burning in embarrassment and betrayal. Harumi never liked her. Harumi was never nice. Harumi doesn't care.

Harumi likes being mean.

Every interaction sours in Akita's mind. She'd thought Harumi was kind for everything she'd done, but she'd just been using her all along, hadn't she? Akita saw her as a friend — Harumi saw her as a pet.

Akita backed up slowly, anger rising in her gut. She hadn't dared to be angry at Harumi, not since Harumi had Bound Vex and given her an outlet. But she didn't want to torture Vex forever anymore. She wanted Lloyd and her brother back.

Harumi didn't even spare her a glance. She was so confident in her own manipulation, so sure of herself. Akita felt a snarl curl on her lips.

"I'm telling him."

Harumi froze. She turned to Akita. "Excuse me?"

Akita, miraculously, managed to keep her voice level. "I am telling Lloyd," she repeated. "I am telling him that I'm Red, and you're the Quiet One. I'm telling him about you and all the secrets we've kept."

Harumi's face contorted in an ugly snarl. "Don't you dare," she hissed.

Akita met her eyes defiantly. Harumi was not her friend. Harumi did not like her. But Lloyd Garmadon did.

Akita did go off script. She said and did things Harumi had forbidden, and Lloyd didn't care. Somewhere, sometime, he went from a target to a friend. Akita never felt small around him, and she never felt stupid.

"You can't stop me." The easy thing, she thinks, about being so bad at having friends is that it is very easy for her to stop having them at all. She could ignore the whining in her throat and heart. She could bury the lingering yearning for touch and affection, for hands to pull her up from loose dirt.

She turned her back to Harumi, refusing to hesitate as she left. Harumi watched her go coldly. A dark shadow settled over her face as a thin sigh left her lips.

"Oh, puppy," she whispered so quietly it was like Akita wasn't even meant to hear her. But she did, ears pricking at the venomous tone. Harumi's thin eyes glared at her as she raised one hand, fingers pinched together. "I think you'll find that I can."

Her fingers snapped together. Akita choked as the red collar of their bond yanked her backward, sending her to the floor. She growled, tugging at the leash with one hand. "Let me go, Harumi!"

"Oh no," Harumi stalked down the dais, her hand alight with red magic that held Akita down. "You don't get to tell me what to do, mutt. See, you gave me your Name." She crouched down, wide, emotionless eyes boring into her. Her other hand threaded into Akita's hair with long, thin fingers, entangling in her curls. Harumi yanked her up, making Akita choke and splutter as she was caught between the collar holding her to the floor and Harumi pulling her up until their faces nearly touched. Harumi thumbed over Akita's still stained lips with her glowing hand. The red sparks sent electricity down her throat.

There was no emotion in Harumi's face, not even rage or condescension. Akita couldn't help alternating between growling and the instinctive prey response to run run run.

"Know what that means? I own you, dog," Harumi hissed. She tugged Akita's hair again, making the changeling whine. "You do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. You are an attack dog."

Akita snarled. Harumi wanted a dog? Fine. Her bite was so much worse than her bark.

Akita's face elongated into a furry snout as her limbs bent and retracted. Harumi, disgusted, snatched her hand back as Akita's hair disappeared in favor of thick white fur. She snarled, back hunched as Harumi stood up. The Quiet One didn't seem worried at all. She simply observed the wolf in front of her, unimpressed.

"Is this what we're doing now?" She said loftily. "Fine. But you made me do this."

She raised one hand, red sparking at her pink fingertips. Akita snarled, ready to fight back against the collar, but Harumi didn't summon it. She simply murmured, "Change."

Agony raced up Akita's body as her body contorted violently. She howled, a mix between a human scream and bark as her bones seemed to snap like twigs. She gasped, shaking, as her body was forced to become human once more. Harumi watched coldly as Akita fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut loose. The changeling wheezed into the dusty floorboards, claws weakly scrabbling at splinters.

Harumi lifted her foot, pressing her heel to the floor. Her foot slowly pressed into the side of Akita's neck. "This is my fault," Harumi whispered as Akita reeled back against the foot on her neck. The red hard-light collar snapped into place, tethering her to the floor until she could back away no further. "I've been too lenient with you, pup. That's the thing about dogs; you have to train them early on, before they start thinking they're in charge. It's like potty training, y'know?" Her foot still pressed against Akita's neck, she crouched to the floor. Her head tilted to the side as she snagged Akita's curly black hair in lithe fingers, forcibly turning the changeling's head to face her.

Akita's breath puffed hotly in front of her as she wheezed against the collar. Sweat pooled in her eyes and upper lip. Harumi tsked. "That's what you're doing, right? Pissing all over my plans?"

"L-let go-"

Harumi's lip curled. Before Akita could say any more, the hand in her hair tightened and slammed her face into the floor. Akita cried out as her nose cracked with a wet noise. Harumi calmly lifted her back up, pressing her boot down even harsher as she swiped at the blood flowing from Akita's nose. The changeling could only gasp and wheeze, caught between the pain in her face and neck.

Harumi sucked on her finger, cleaning the blood from pale skin. "No," she said. "You don't give me orders, dog. Things are changing, now, since you can't be trusted to follow simple instructions. Not as well-trained as I thought, hm?" Harumi stood, but her foot didn't budge from Akita's neck. Her cold eyes glimmered like pinpricks of light in the dark.

"So, let's rehash. You are an attack dog. I own you. That means you do what I say, when I say it. If I tell you to sit, you will sit. If I say lay down, you lay down. If I say, 'continue lying to and attacking the Conduit', then that's exactly what you will do. Because, Akita," she bent at the waist, her weight pressing deeper into Akita's skin as she mocked her accent, "you. Are. A. Dog. My dog."

Akita breathed harshly from her mouth, her hand weakly wrapping around Harumi's ankle. She tugged, trying to free up her airways. Harumi didn't budge. She never budged. Never took no for an answer, never took any suggestion other than her own, was never shaken from her iron-fisted convictions.

How had Akita ever thought that this was a person she could care about? Could care about her in return?

"Fuck off," Akita growled with what little breath she had. Blood gurgled in her broken nose, smarting every time she moved. She sucked in another ragged breath, coughing weakly. "L-Lloyd is- is going to find out-"

Harumi rolled her eyes. "He won't, because he won't care to look. Why would he? I've given him everything he ever wanted on a silver platter." She glared at Akita. "I would've done the same for you, but you just had to try and get smart."

Did… did she sound betrayed? Was the Quiet One actually betrayed by Akita? Good. Good! Let her see how it feels.

"Lucky for you," Harumi continued, "I don't have the brain of a fucking dog. I can see the bigger picture." She sighed, but there was something strained in her tone, like she had to make a real effort to sound lofty and dismissive. Akita had never heard her like this. Like her plans weren't working. "So, again, let's refresh your memory."

Harumi summoned the collar, drawing Akita to her feet. The changeling slumped, boneless, too tired to pick herself up. The collar held her up more than her actual muscles did. Harumi shook her head in disgust. "God," she hissed, "I can't imagine how weak the Conduit is if this is all you can take."

"Fuck you," Akita spat. Blood seeped into her mouth, tinging her tongue in iron. Harumi cupped her cheek, deceptively kind. Akita couldn't understand how she did this, alternated between unrelentingly cruel and eternally patient. It gave her the worst sense of whiplash.

Harumi thumbed over her red markings, something that could be mistaken for fondness in her eyes. "I'd like to remind you, sweetheart," Harumi whispered in a sweet, lilting voice, "That you gave me your Name. You came to my home, crying about poor brother bear, and I told you I would fix it in return for the Conduit. Before there was the Conduit, who knows as much as I say he gets to know, there was me. Who saved you? Who offered you a solution? Who cared for you, gave you purpose? Me." Her hand squeezed on Akita's cheek. The pulling on her skin only aggravated her broken nose.

"You never cared." Akita couldn't keep the whine from her voice, the hurt of betrayal. "Y-you didn't care about me."

Harumi ignored her. "You agreed, if you'll recall," she said. "You said, if my memory serves correct, 'yes, yes, yes'. You chose this." Harumi let go of her cheek, dusting her hand off on her shirt like she'd touched something gross. Akita growled between short breaths, limp. Harumi observed her coldly, twirling the chain lead of the collar — of their bond, how could Akita have ever thought that this bond meant anything but subjugation — in between her fingers. Then she dropped it.

Akita collapsed to the ground in a heap with nothing to hold her up, too surprised to brace for it. She groaned as aches spread over her body, curling up into a loose ball.

Harumi tapped her lip thoughtfully, eyes gleaming. "You are right about one thing, though," she said. "I never did care about you, and neither does the Conduit. The only person who loves you is your brother, and if you loved him half as much, you'd have been in his place." Akita's eyes widen, grief taking hold in its familiar place against her throat. Harumi folded her hands. "That's why you're going to do as I say if you ever want to prove that you love him. That's why you're going to make sure he didn't suffer in vain, aren't you, mutt?" She shook her head. "You never should have assumed anybody else could care for you. But…" she let out a drawn-out sigh. "Well, you know animals."

Tears pricked at Akita's eyes. She'd really thought someone cared about her problems. Really thought she'd found someone who understood her. Was this how everyone saw her? Just an aggressive animal? This whole time, had she really just been a pet to Harumi, convenient enough to pretend to like? They'd laughed together, they'd spent time together, and Akita had always been aware of their bond and the power she'd given Harumi, but-

She'd just thought that it didn't matter. That it wasn't anything more than a contract, something to give Harumi enough freedom under her own boss.

Stupid. So, so stupid.

Harumi crouched down. Her cold hand smoothed over Akita's curls, brushing the tangled locks softly. "So," she whispered. "Like an animal, you just need somebody to do all the thinking for you. But that's easy, huh? Just keep doing what you've been doing — the ugly, dirty things, while I do the thinking. That's what makes us such a good team, huh, puppy?"

A team. But they weren't equals — Harumi was the owner, and Akita was the dog. The leashed dog.

"You've been so hurt," the Quiet One whispered. Through wide eyes, Akita saw her. Long, pin-straight white hair, the upper half of her face coated in thick red paint, her eyes shining against the pitch black of her sclera — an angel. Her hand smoothed back the sweaty hair from Akita's forehead. "Tell me how to fix it." This angel… she could save Akita, she realized in that moment. She could fix everything wrong. She was there for Akita where nobody else was.

"You're not on my side," Akita gasped through tears. "You were never- never on my side."

"No," Harumi agreed with no remorse. "But you can be on mine."

"I'm not," Akita snapped. "I'm on Lloyd's side!"

"No," Harumi sighed. "You're not." Akita grit her teeth as the hard-light collar around her throat flashed red. Harumi tapped it with her pointed nail. "You may not be on my side, but you are my dog. So, when I say sit…"

The collar tightened. Akita gasped as it slowly shrank, digging into flesh with harsh edges. She pulled away from Harumi, and Harumi let her. Akita tugged at the collar, panic settling in as it only got smaller and smaller. She gasped, wheezing. She couldn't take it. She couldn't take this.

Harumi stood to her full height. She reminded Akita of a cat — effortlessly graceful, silent, always watching and waiting. She tilted her head with a mean smile, her hair falling over her shoulders. It wasn't even mussed by their fight, if one could call it that. "When I say sit," Harumi repeated, "what do you do?"

"No!" Akita yelled, then choked as the collar dug in deeper. It was quickly crushing her windpipe.

"I can do this all day," Harumi said. She could, Akita could tell. It hit her then, that Harumi had always been in complete control. While Akita left this place she'd thought was home to carry out Harumi's lies and manipulations and plans, the Quiet One held the puppet strings all the while. Akita thought she'd been in some semblance of control. She'd been wrong. She was never attacking the Conduit for her brother — she was doing it for Harumi. Not out of love, but out of stupidity.

Harumi smirked, like she knew exactly what Akita was thinking. "So, doll. When I say sit…?"

She could make Akita say it. It was well within Harumi's power to simply force Akita to say it through their bond, but she wouldn't. Harumi wanted Akita to say it, she realized. Because that way, it was so much more humiliating. Fucking sadist, Akita thought viciously. She used to think it was funny, how much Harumi enjoyed violence. Now Akita just wanted to show her just how violent dogs could get.

Akita grit her teeth, trying to wait Harumi out. But Harumi knew her better than she knew herself, didn't she? There was no waiting out Harumi. The collar drew blood, and Akita gasped, "I sit!"

Immediately, the collar let up. Akita crumpled, gasping for sweet, cool oxygen between harsh coughs. Harumi grinned viciously at the victory. The collar did not disappear, but Harumi vanished the leash. She cupped Akita's cheeks in her soft palms, so unlike Akita's calloused hands, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Good girl," she murmured into Akita's sweaty hair. "Good dog, very good dog."

Akita bit back a sob. I never should've given her my Name, she thought. Dread climbed up her spine like a spider, slowly entangling her in its web. She'd been trapped in it all this time.

"Now," Harumi whispered. "When I say lay down?"

Akita bit her lip, determined not to let Harumi win again, but the second her collar began to tightened against her throat her resolve disintegrated. She yelped instinctively, far too aware of how far Harumi was willing to go. "I lay down!" She gasped. Her eyes squeezed shut from the shame as she bowed her head, trying to suppress her cries. "I- I lay down."

"Good dog," Harumi murmured. "And if I tell you that you're going to keep lying to the Conduit?"

Akita swallowed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I keep lying to the Conduit," she replied under her breath. Harumi smiled into her hair.

"Exactly." She pulled back, still holding Akita's slack face in her cold hands. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it? You bite who I tell you to bite. You kill who I tell you to kill. Why?"

Harumi was an angel, but Akita was quickly finding that she did not live for Akita's salvation. If Harumi was an angel, then Akita was her sword. Her dog.

"Because I'm-" her voice cracked. Any meager amount of remaining dignity fought the notion of saying such a thing, but Harumi's pointed, threatening look quickly stomped it out. "Because I'm a dog," Akita whispered. "I'm your dog."

The collar loosened entirely. It did not disappear, but it didn't hold snug against her skin either. Still, Akita was far too aware of its presence. It was a message. She wouldn't be surprised if it never went away now.

Harumi stood up, letting go of her. "Good dog," she praised. Akita slumped, a mixture of relief and humiliation coursing through her when Harumi finally stopped touching her. She had craved that touch once.

Harumi turned on her heel, abandoning Akita to the floor. She hummed to herself, leaning against a pew casually. "I hope you understand, now," she said conversationally.

Oh, she understood alright. She understood that she was trapped in hell, and hell was a teenage girl named Harumi Hutchins.

Harumi seemed to think for a moment, something like resignation in her eyes as she watched Akita slowly pick herself up. Her shoulders remained hunched in shame. All she'd done was try to protect Lloyd, and now…

Now things would get so much worse. She thought Lloyd would help all on his own if he knew the truth, but the truth is that Harumi Hutchins is hell on earth, and to be hers is to damned. She doesn't even want to tell Lloyd anymore, not if it means letting Harumi put a collar on him, too.

Harumi scanned her pink nails, gaze darkening. "Damn dog," she muttered, "made me break a nail." Good, Akita thought. Harumi sighed, glancing back up at Akita. "Things are changing, now. For one, you've ruined my fucking night. For another, I clearly can't trust you around the Conduit until you're better trained." Despite herself, Akita felt fear course through her blood at that word. What the hell did somebody like Harumi consider training?

"So," Harumi continued, "I'll be accompanying all your future interactions with the Conduit."

Akita lurched forward, fear for more than herself burning in her chest. "No, you can't-!" She suddenly found that her voice was gone as Harumi shot her an ugly glare.

"You'll find that I can do whatever the fuck I want," she said coldly. Akita's mouth went dry. It was hopeless, she realized, to try to keep Harumi and Lloyd in separate worlds. She'd made it worse. She'd given Harumi cause to not only scheme from a distance, but get up close and personal with Lloyd. She would be there in every class period, every lunch, every fight at night and every sleepover. And Akita would be forced to watch as Lloyd fell for every single sweet lie.

I never should have given her my name. I never should have brought this up. I should've never tried to protect him.

Harumi is not her friend. Harumi does not care. Harumi is evil, and Harumi likes being evil, because she's insane as insane gets and now Lloyd is in even more danger. And it is all Akita's fault.

All Akita can do is bark, and Harumi's bite is so much worse than hers.

Harumi waved her away, apparently disinterested now that she'd gotten her point across. "Go to your crate," she said dismissively. Akita froze.

"Y-you mean my bed?"

Harumi smirked. "No, I mean your crate. That's what you do with a dog — you crate train it. So go to your crate, puppy."

Akita shakily turned to her bed. Harumi had given her a large dog kennel, had said it was a joke, and Akita hadn't minded because it reminded her of the caves she curled up in with her brother when Kataru hibernated. Akita slept in wolf form anyways, slept in Harumi's bed half the time and Lloyd's the other half, and so she'd never even considered what a human might think of when they saw her bed.

Was that the point all along? That she slept in a dog kennel and didn't even care?

The bond isn't tugging in her stomach. The collar isn't glowing or tightening. Harumi wants Akita to do it all on her own.

"Go to your crate, puppy," Harumi repeats sweetly. Akita shakes as she walks, tails between her legs, to the bed- no, the crate. The fucking cage.

She melts into wolf form halfway there, slipping into the open kennel with only a moment's hesitation. She curls up in the corner, tails wrapped around her legs. Harumi smiles, flicking her hand carelessly. The tattered hands of Shades rise from the floor and soundly locked the crate door.

"Good dog," Harumi says. She turns back to her wardrobe. "Now, how should I wear my hair…?"

Akita buried her snout in her tails, not bothering to hold back her tears now. What was it Harumi had said?

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, mutt."

Akita had tried to bite. And Harumi's bite was so much fucking worse.