kimvvantae

[kimvvantae]

Weak Point; 4

⤕ It's crazy how life can turn upside down overnight. In your case, life took a 180º turn the morning you discovered you were the weakness of the most powerful creature in the world.

From a normal citizen, you become Jujutsu Society's most coveted target. In a world where everyone wants your head on a silver platter, plagued by secrets of the past and struggling to balance what remains of your “normal” life, you are trapped in a situation you cannot escape.

And yet - amid the chaos, you slowly realize that you might be his weak point in ways that have nothing to do with sorcery.

pairing: gojo x (f) reader

genre: romance, fluff and humor, angst, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, "oh no we have to live in the same house" trope, fix-it fic (kinda)

warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (in future parts), grief, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit language, me trying to be funny

rating: 18+

word count: 5k

⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

You didn’t sleep the first night, which already felt like a bad omen.

People that work in emergency have a unique talent: the ability to sleep anywhere. You’d slept on the floor. You’d slept sitting in your car. You’d slept standing in a packed train once. You’d slept that time in a bar, too, with loud music and loud people, and you hadn’t even drank anything. You’d slept in the shower. You’d slept on the toilet once. In short — it really was an ability you had mastered.

And yet, when you laid in that comfy bed with the best smelling sheets and pillow you’d ever seen (note to self: check what softener brand they use), you could not shut your eyes at all.

There was way too much to digest and your spiritual digestive system seemed to have contracted a really bad infection. Fuck, you had a metaphorical tummy ache at the moment. Deep down in some hidden corner of your mind, there was a group of denialist neurons questioning everything. There is no such thing as sorcery or curses or cursed energy or techniques. Everyone is lying to you. This is a huge fucking prank. Your suffering is being livestreamed right now and thousands of people are laughing maniacally in the chat.

But you’d seen enough.

Unfortunately, you had physical proof that it was all very much real — and perhaps that made it all worse. Made the fear worse. Because Gojo wasn’t home.

He stayed until a little after nine, then left with a poor tired Ijichi. He still had to work, apparently. You tried not to freak out. You were still trying not to freak out, imagining the most horrible scenarios — another group of curse users invading the house, hurting Fushiguro and Mayu, kidnapping you again before Gojo could come—

You rolled on the bed again. The silver bracelet was warm against your skin. You didn’t dare to take it off. Sure, Gojo had shown the house’s protections (how was it called? Curtain?), explained that it’d burn intruders alive, but what if it failed? What if it wasn’t enough? What if he couldn’t come back in time—?

You sat on the bed.

That’s it. I’m not sleeping tonight.

You had taken a 24 hour shift on your mother’s death anniversary to not think too much about it. And now, you would clean this fucking bedroom to not think about the shitshow that your life became.

You let Mayu take the empty room (the better, the bigger) upstairs because you felt bad about involving her in this whole situation. She didn’t complain, obviously (she loved it), which meant you took the guest bedroom downstairs that had been used to store stuff. It was packed with your boxes and theirs. Gojo said that you could take everything to the basement (of fucking course this house had a basement), but you decided to do it the next day because you thought you’d be able to sleep at that moment.

Well, not anymore.

The house was dark and dead silent. The living room was just around the corner; next to your bedroom, the guest bathroom, and the door to the basement at the end of the corridor. You tried your best to not make much noise, turned the lights of the corridor on and began to work. Old boxes, bags, carriers — everything to the basement. Downstairs, upstairs, carrying weight. Great cardio. Great way to not think about anything. Great great great.

It was still hot, even at night. After a while, you tiptoed to the kitchen to take a cup of water.

The tatami room’s lights were on. 

You found Mayu laying there. Sprawled on the floor as if she’d been shot.

That took you back to reality very quick. You could — and you did — run away from your own mind a lot. You could overwork yourself to pretend everything was alright. But you couldn’t run from Mayu. You’d never run from her.

You laid on your back as well, mimicking her position.

It was silent for some moments.

“It’s nice here.” She finally said in a quiet, raspy voice.

“Uh-Hum.”

Silence. The breeze played with the trees out there. The way the walls and branches blocked the street view was a bit eerie; made it feel like you were in an isolated bubble, a parallel dimension, not a busy metropolis.

“Was the tatami room from the old house like this, too?”

Of course she was thinking about it, the way you were thinking about it. Dad said he’d like to bring her back someday, the same way you talked about coming back to mom. He went as far as promising to come back… but that was before he got sick.

“Smaller. And less fancy.” Your voice was raspy, too. “But yeah. Similar.”

Silence.

“How was grandmother’s house?”

You gulped.

She had never asked you this before.

Dad didn’t talk about grandmother. Mom didn’t talk about grandmother. You didn’t talk about grandmother. This made you realize she knew even less than you.

“It was huge.” Your memories came like yellowed pictures. “Very traditional. Had a central atrium and all. With a koi pond.”

“Bigger than this one?”

“Yeah.” You tightened your eyes slightly. “I remember thinking it was cool how everyone wore kimonos there. Made me feel like I was inside a period drama.”

Masamichi Yaga’s voice echoed in the back of your mind. Hosokawa is a sorcerer family.

The Hosokawa Family is kinda important, you know? Big traditional household.

You’d been there. Not many times as far as you remembered — but you’d been there. Even if you were just a kid, how didn’t you notice something strange was going on? Something supernatural?

“Sounds pretty cool.” Mayu said.

“Oh, it wasn’t. Not at all.” You waved your hand dismissively, an annoyed frown creeping up your features. “They didn’t let me do anything. All that space, but I couldn’t run or play or even talk. And grandmother—” You rolled your eyes on instinct. “—she was a witch. I get why mom almost never took me there. I wouldn’t let my child around someone like her, either.”

You didn’t let Mayu around her.

It felt like a quiet, unintentional, embarrassing confession. 

Silence.

“What did she want with you?” There. That’s where she was trying to get all along. You already knew it. “Does she have anything to do with your… case?”

You hesitated.

You didn’t want to run from Mayu. You didn’t want to lie. But you hadn’t understood properly everything that had happened; it was too fresh, too confusing. Mayu had to understand that she was in danger indeed, so she wouldn’t act recklessly. But at the same time… she didn’t have to know the entirety of it. At least, not yet.

You’d explain the whole thing some time. But not now.

So you decided to summarize the truth.

“She doesn’t have anything to do with it.” The bitterness in your voice was surprising even to you. “But she wanted to offer help.” You chuckled dryly. “Can you believe that?”

“And d’you tell her to fuck off?” 

“Not with these exact words, but yeah.”

Mayu gulped. “You should have. You should’ve told her to fuck off. With these exact words.”

Both of you giggled, even though there wasn’t anything funny about it. 

“You’re…” Mayu turned her head to look at you for the first time. “You really aren’t going to tell me what’s going on?”

You sighed and looked at her. “I can’t, Mayu. What Gojo-san said… he’s right. The whole thing is under secrecy. The less you know, the better.”

“You know how hard it is to believe that?”

“I know. Not even I get what’s going on. But it’s the truth.” You pointed around with your index finger. “Why else do you think I’d accept to leave our apartment like that?”

She pouted thoughtfully and frowned. “You’re not, like… running from a loan shark or anything, right?”

“No.” You chuckled. “‘Course not.”

Mayu looked at the ceiling again. So did you.

Silence.

“I’m sorry for going to the festival behind your back.” Her voice was quiet. Bashful. You sighed.

“You know I don’t mind you going places, Mayu. It’s not like I don’t expect you to do things people your age do. I just don’t want you to be stupid about it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you in front of strangers.” It was your turn to apologize. “Next time you do dumb shit and I find out, I’ll yell at you in private.”

Mayu chuckled and quirked her eyebrow at you. “Are they really strangers, though?”

You looked at her again. “Yes. What do you mean?”

“You know… you and Blindfold-san…” she trailed off, tightening her eyes.

“Gosh, no.” You huffed and waved your hand dismissively once more. “I barely know the guy.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Mayu. Why do you think I’m lying to you?”

“I don’t think you’re lying. It’s just that it looks like you already know each other.”

It was your turn to frown. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Silence. “It’d be a level up from Ren, you know.”

You crossed your arms. “Ren’s not ugly.”

“I’m not saying he’s ugly. It’s just that it’d go from an 8 to a 10.”

A ten, she said. You took Mayu’s opinion on men’s appearances very seriously, as she was not attracted to them. If she said someone was “a ten”, it usually was true.

A ten. 

His stupid bright blue eyes. His infuriating dimples and smirk and stupid white hair—

You shook your head and grimaced as if you’d slurped a very sour lemon. Stop right there!

“What are you even talking about?” You groaned defensively. “I already said that I don’t even know the guy. Don’t make it awkward for me.”

“Okaaay. My bad.” Silence. A lighter one, this time. More comfortable. Easier. “Can I have my phone back?”

“Nope.”

“Uuugh.”

Male around 40 years old. Civil construction worker. Fell from a height of approximately 4 meters. Unconscious. Brought in by EMS, wearing a cervical collar on a spinal board. Labored breathing. Scalp laceration. Glasgow coma scale: 8.

Usually, it wouldn’t be you to take the lead. You’d assist. But there was a storm outside, the ER was in chaos, and Tanaka-san — head physician, chief of your team — was already busy with another case.

This man couldn’t wait for him.

There wasn’t time to question your abilities, to be nervous, to hesitate. You’d seen Tanaka-san, other physicians and professors doing this a thousand times; you’d assisted a thousand times. You knew what to do. 

“BP 90/60, HR 120, Sat 89%, still unresponsive,” the paramedic pushing the stretchers shouted.

You stepped forward before the mere possibility of fear appeared. 

“I’ll take the lead. Full trauma protocol. Let’s go— ABCDE.”

He was quickly led into the red zone. Nurses and technicians awaited you. They looked up to you for orders, for orientation. 

It was like you put your brain in full autopilot mode. No time for emotions. No time, no time.

Lead. Lead. You are the leader. This man will die if you fail. He is dying, quickly.

“Keep his neck neutral. Don’t let go.” You ordered the nurse at the head of the bed before leaning over the patient. “Sir, can you hear me?”

He did not respond.

“He needs to be intubated immediately. Prep the kit — 8.0 tube, suction, laryngoscope with a Mac 3 blade.”

The team scrambled quickly, trained to exhaustion, sharpened like a blade — just like you. Your eyes passed by them for recognition; that new nurse you didn’t remember the name. Another nurse you weren’t familiar with. Watanabe-san, Maeda-san — the experienced technicians were assisting Tanaka at that moment. Fuck, it was just you and the newbies to stabilize the situation.

You are the leader. They need to trust you. They need confidence.

Everyone surrounded the bed. Etomidate and succinylcholine were injected quickly. You took the laryngoscope while the assistant kept the patient’s head still.

You allowed yourself a shallow breath within the mask before proceeding.

Blade in. It cut his skin with ease. Tongue swept. Epiglottis visible. There — vocal cords.

The tube slid in smoothly.

“Tube in at 22. Inflate cuff. Bag him.” Your voice came calm but firm. CO2 detected. Bilateral breath sounds confirmed. “Airway secured.”

A: done.

Clear breath sounds. Equal expansion. No immediate signs of pneumothorax. Saturation rose.

“Lungs are clear. Keep ventilating.”

B: done.

His pulse was rapid and thready. You did not take your eyes off the patient. “Get two large-bore IVs. Let’s start with a liter of warm saline. Crossmatch for blood. Someone draw labs — gas, CBC, coags, electrolytes.”

The new nurse pressed gauze against the scalp wound; it looked shallow, not life-threatening. No other visible bleeding anywhere in his body. 

C: done.

You opened his eyelids with your index finger and thumb; his pupils reacted to the light of the small lantern. Yet, no movement on any limb. This made your stomach feel cold with apprehension. No no no no. No time for apprehension.

The monitor beeped with stability — but you didn’t know for how long.

“Possible spinal fracture injury. Keep him fully immobilized.”

D: done.

You watched as a nurse cut his working uniform with ease, careful to not move his spine a centimeter. There was a small sting in your heart when you spotted a tattoo on his forearm: 2010-09-02 ♡ Sana. Was it his daughter’s birthday? Was it his wife and their wedding date? You had no idea. You didn’t really want to think too hard about it, not at that moment.

No other major injuries found.

E: done.

You and the rest of the team stayed, focused on keeping him stable, on watching any change in his vitals. You stayed until you became aware that his ICU bed was being prepped and the CT scan was successfully requested; until a resident from neurosurgery arrived. Only then did you finally step back.

The autopilot switch was off.

You let yourself breathe. You let yourself notice how hot it was, unsure if it was due to the actual weather or your nerves. You got rid of the stained gloves. No movement. Sana’s father — or husband — could’ve had brain damage. Or quadriplegia. Or he could still die.

You did what you could, what you were trained to do; you knew that. And yet, a part of you — the part what awakened the moment you discovered that some people in this world could heal with their bare hands — asked quietly:

What’s the point?

Tanaka-san arrived after a few moments. He, too, just got off his own patient. The middle-aged man patted your shoulder softly and nodded.

“Good job, Mori-san.” 

That made you feel a bit better. A bit proud of yourself, maybe. If this had happened a week ago, you would be beaming. Tanaka wasn’t one to give anyone compliments. If he did, it was earned.

But your world, your knowledge of reality itself, had shifted drastically four days ago. Ieiri Shoko could’ve saved that man on the spot. What she said about “reverse cursed energy” (whatever the fuck that meant) only working on sorcerers — it didn’t make anything easier to deal with. Didn’t make one of the most important parts of your life, medicine, feel any less useless.

So you had to stand in the back of the room and hear that voice echo inside your head.

What’s the point?

The first days are shit, as expected.

You’re a complete, constant, utter mess of anxiety and fear despite Gojo’s calm confidence that you’re gonna be fiiiine, nothing’s gonna happen to you. It was hard to believe him when he was barely home at all. He texted all the time — he’s insufferable — but you go full days without seeing him. 

You go full days without seeing Fushiguro, too. Except he was home all the time. He just chose to stay locked inside his bedroom.

Mayu stayed locked in her bedroom as well. You did see her, however, because you had the right to tear her door open, flick the lights on and off until she yelled at you to stop, throw a pillow or two in her head, talk shit about that stupid vampire teen series she was binge watching — you know, the usual stuff. You felt bad that she’d have to stay at home all the time right when summer break started; Mayu was always very social. It was even a bit impressive to see a teenager preferring to go out than bed rot or play video games all day. 

In the end, you were the only one that even transited inside the house. Well. You and Countess. But Countess hated you, so whenever you crossed paths, she’d immediately change rooms.

Bitch.

Work was the same, except it wasn’t.

Your tasks were the same, of course. You went back to work fearing being fired when you were called to talk to HR (because technically you had vanished an hour and half before your actual leave time), but turns out the hospital feared you. Investigation led to the conclusion that the “explosion” happened due to a gas leak, i.e.: the hospital’s fault. HR was frightened that the employees would sue them (and they would probably win), so your boss talked to you in the calmest, nicest voice you’d ever heard. 

And yet, that wasn’t even what caught you off guard.

Himeda-san, head of HR, had a worried (empathic?) expression when she said quietly:

“We’ve been informed about your case. We want you to know that you’re a valuable professional who we appreciate and support in our hospital. Security has been informed as well, and they’ll keep an eye on you. We’ll do anything we can to help you.”

You didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.

Your case. She definitely didn’t know about the sorcery stuff, but they had a police report with them. It made you curious to know what Gojo — or Jujutsu High, whatever — told them. You just smiled, nodded and thanked her. 

So, yeah. Work was the same. Except you could see that there was a strange, translucent “dome” around the entirety of the hospital complex with a slightly different color than the normal sky; a protective curtain, apparently. Except a part of you was frightened of attending new patients now, even if they were unconscious or elders or children, because this part kept whispering, what if they’re curse users in disguise? 

Except you couldn’t go anywhere unattended. You couldn’t drive. You couldn’t take the subway. Which might sound good (you could nap in the backseat the whole way), but your routine was restricted. You couldn’t have a drink after work with your colleagues, or stop at the supermarket, or eat at that Italian restaurant near the hospital you loved, because you were being constantly tracked and you couldn’t leave your pre-designated daily route. It was home-work-home-work, no stops, no breaks.

Ijichi was usually the one to drive you; if it wasn’t him, it was Nitta — the other blonde cheerful assistant manager. As far as you knew, their job was not to just drive people around, so you felt bad that they had to tend you like a child despite their other tasks. Upon hearing this, Ijichi just chuckled nervously and shrugged.

“Don’t worry about us, Mori-san. It’s part of our job. Besides, Gojo-san is paying me extra,” though that last sentence was spoken under his breath; he didn’t expect you to hear it. 

Well. It still made you feel bad, because Ijichi specifically always looked stressed and tired. Despite your unstable work hours, he was never late. It became a habit of yours to buy him donuts everyday as a small compensation (the hospital’s cafeteria sold the best donuts you’d ever tasted in your life). It wasn’t much, yet Ijichi looked about to cry the first time you gave him a box full of cream and chocolate donuts.

At least your work was hell as usual. But that’s the hell you chose, not one imposed to you. The type of hell that made your brain burn, your adrenaline levels stay high, the one that kept you busy and made you feel alive. You liked it. You needed it.

After a week of this new-but-same life, you already felt that you were going insane.

You took the night shift. When you got home, it was six in the morning and the kids were still sleeping (Mayu was definitely sleeping; Fushiguro was a morning person, so he probably just chose to stay locked). The house was as empty and lifeless as usual. 

Usually, you’d shower and go straight to bed. But the weather was nice and you decided to torture your brain a little bit longer. You slipped into that green short sleeved pajama top (but put pants instead of the shorts that matched. You’d been avoiding to wear anything too short inside the house. Your stay at home shorts were short. I-can-see-half-your-buttcheeks type of short), put a green relaxing face mask on, cracked a freezing cold beer open and sat in the tatami room alone. No phone, no TV. Just beer, overexhaustion and an empty head.

“What’s the concept behind the all green?”

You almost spat out your heart.

Gojo. Of course. This son of a bitch teleported to the house, he almost never used the front door — so you almost never heard him coming.

You turned around to see him leaning by the door with his arms crossed. It’d been five days since he’d been home. He wore a light blue dress shirt tucked into his pants, had its sleeves rolled up and two buttons opened. His usual jacket hung from his shoulder. Instead of the blindfold, Gojo wore a pair of elegant rectangular sunglasses. His hair was down.

Infuriating. He looked infuriating, and you looked like freshly spat phlegm. Great.

“You— don’t you have manners?!” You rested your hand over your pounding heart. “Why can’t you announce yourself like a normal person?”

Gojo raised his eyebrows slightly as if you said something unexpected.

“Uh… I’m home?” 

“Welcome home.” You said between gritted teeth. “See? Was it hard?”

He smiled.

Why did he look happy?

Gojo got rid of his fucking huge blue slippers and plopped down on the tatami as well. He threw the jacket over the table carelessly. You noticed how he couldn’t keep his crossed legs under the table like you because they still were one kilometer each. He took a bit of the chips you were eating and eyed the can in your hand with judgemental eyes.

“So? Is there a reason why you’re green?” He pointed at your shirt, your face mask, the green headband pushing your hair back. “Also — is it healthy to drink at six in the morning?”

“I worked all night. Don’t care if it’s healthy or not.” You took one more sip. “And about the green thing: Mori. Duh.”

Gojo paused. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Why do you think Mayu’s hair is green?”

Well, maybe the combination of green you had at the moment was unintentional, but it’s true that you and Mayu had an obnoxious amount of green things. It was an inside joke dad started. Mori is pronounced exactly like forest. He used to call you sprout when you were a kid, and did the same thing with Mayu. It became a small tradition: green birthday cakes. The outside of your old house was painted green. All of your graduation dresses were green. You caught yourself buying things just because they were green. The whole green thing became a bit stronger after he passed.

But you weren’t going to get into detail with him.

“You’re clearly committed, huh?” 

“Yeah. And you can’t judge me. You’re always wearing or carrying something blue.” You pointed at his shirt.

Gojo pushed his glasses down the bridge of his nose and blinked prettily. “Oh, but I can’t help wanting to highlight those eyes, can I? Wait— don’t look at me!” He immediately pushed his glasses up again. “Phew, you almost got another nosebleed.” 

You rolled your eyes whilst chuckling. He chuckled, too. He’s funny, okay? I’m not gonna act like he isn’t. “When will you stop talking about that?!”

“Never.”

“Ugh. It could be something serious, okay? I should get a tomography.” You offered him a beer absently.

“Nah, I’m sure your brain was just shocked to see such a beautiful creature for the first time.” You unoffered the beer. He shrugged like a child. “I didn’t want it anyway.”

“More for me.” You chugged down more beer.

Gojo rested his elbow on the table and leaned his cheek over his knuckles, checking his phone with the other hand absently. 

You tried really, really hard to not look at it directly, because something told you that he’d notice even if you were sly.

But that oversized jacket of his did a great job at disguising his physique.

The dress shirt wasn’t even tight, yet his biceps were practically yelling at you through the fabric. The shocking part — he was relaxed. He wasn’t flexing them. The volume of his well defined chest was there, too, and the traps that were completely hidden when he wore that jacket. Gojo wasn’t lanky at all. That was the body of someone that exercises regularly and heavily.

Jesus Christ.

He got even more infuriating.

After some moments of checking his phone, he put it on the table and looked at you — which gave your brain a slight electric shock.

You drank more beer.

Silence.

“You’ll keep staring at me in silence? It’s getting weird.” You side eyed him.

Gojo clapped his hands once and straightened his back.

“So.” You didn’t like his tone. You hated his tone. It meant something bad was coming. “I’ve been avoiding the subject because I’m a reeeally nice, sensitive guy. I take the feelings of others in consideration, you know? God, I’m such an empath. And strong. And handsome.”

“And humble.”

“Right?” He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows in a fake surprised expression. “I keep telling everyone this, but no one agrees with me!”

“Oh, I wonder why.”

You both cackled.

Half of your neurons were giggling. The other half was side eyeing the giggling half.

Ahem. 

You gulped more beer. “What is it?”

“It’s about something you told your granny.” He scratched his head. His hair looked so fluffy. Infuriating. “It’s been stuck in my head ever since… well, the whole thing has been stuck in my head, to be honest — respectfully, I never liked your granny, so it was nice to see someone put her back in her place—”

“Get to the point.”

“Your mother’s death anniversary was on July 17th. Your technique ‘activated’ on July 18th. Don’t you think it’s too much of a coincidence?”

No neuron was giggling anymore.

You took another hard chug of the beer and set the can on the table. 

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.”

You blinked nervously. “Gojo-san, I’ve been awake for longer than I can remember and slightly intoxicated. You’ll have to be more explanatory if you want me to understand anything.”

Gojo pouted. “You can drop the san, I don’t mind it.”

“Focus, please.”

He shifted in place. Gojo still had that carefree attitude, but you noticed how he got more serious. “One day, you live a normal life. The next day, your technique awakens. All that following your mother’s tenth death anniversary. And there’s something else, too— you said curses didn’t perceive you?”

“...Yes.”

“Curses go feral the moment they realize you can see them. They are attracted by people with significant cursed energy reserves like you. Yet, you said they never interacted with you. That doesn’t make sense.”

You remembered the way the mutant rat tried to attack you when you told it to shut up. It had never happened before.

You passed your hand over your face, but had forgotten it had a face mask on. Your hand came green. You groaned and angrily scrubbed your face on the towel that had been resting over your shoulder.

“Do you think— do you think my mom had something to do with it?”

“I’m not saying she did. I’m saying that it’s too big of a coincidence to not investigate.” Gojo pursed his lips. “Your face’s still green, by the way.”

“Whatever.” You threw the towel over the table. “But— it might be just a coincidence. Maybe my technique chose a random day to appear.”

He held his chin and pouted again. Fucking glossy lips. Infuriating. “Uh, that’s near impossible, sweetheart. Techniques don’t show up at random. They blossom from 4 to 6 years old.”

“But if I had it since I was a kid, my grandmother would’ve known, right?”

Gojo pointed a finger gun at you. “Correct! Very insightful!” Some neurons went yayyyy. “That’s just one of the things that don’t make sense about you, my dear green friend, because I should’ve noticed you at the hospital, too. Megumi was right. He didn’t see your cursed energy and I didn’t see it, either.”

You frowned. “But we never crossed paths in the hospital. I don’t remember meeting you.”

Gojo smirked and dropped his glasses down the bridge of his nose again. “These eyes see far, sweetheart.”

You frowned even more. “You can see through walls?”

“It really was like you were a non-sorcerer.” He ignored your question and pushed his glasses up again. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“You can see through walls?”

“Why are you repeating that?”

“Well, now I’m worried about living with the guy that sees through walls.” You crossed your arms protectively. Gojo rolled his eyes. It was a bit shocking to see him roll his eyes. 

“I’m not a pervert, Mori. And that’s not even how my eyes work.”

You frowned slightly. “How do th ey work? What is even your technique, by the way? No one explained to me yet.”

“I know I’m such an interesting person that conversations usually orbit around me, but right now you’re the subject, sweetheart.”

Your shoulders dropped. You chugged the last bit of the beer. 

“Okay. Do you have any clue of what’s going on?”

“I was hoping you’d have a clue.” 

“How would I have a clue? I’m completely clueless about pretty much everything going on around me.”

“Yeah, but you knew your mother.” The shift in Gojo’s voice and behavior was subtle, but you saw it anyway; a bit more serious. A bit more hesitant. “And you know how she passed.”

Silence. 

For the first time, you avoided his gaze, lowering your eyes on the table. The whole lighthearted atmosphere was gone. 

Gojo wasn’t stupid. He knew this wasn’t an easy topic. Yet, he asked anyway: he had to.

“Do you remember anything… strange or worth noting from the day she passed?”

You tapped your fingertip over the empty can in a constant rhythm.

It’d been ten years; you were able to talk about it with some sort of “normality” now. However, it still wasn’t something you’d willingly talk about. Not at all.

“Mom died in a car crash.” Your voice was quieter. Tiredness mixed with the sorrow you couldn’t hide whenever you talked about it. “I was in the car with her.”

Gojo raised his eyebrows slightly. This information seemed to take him by surprise. The way you scratched your forehead nervously and your dry, bitter chuckle took him by surprise, too.

“Fuck. The more I think about it, the more your theory makes sense.” You met his gaze again. “I don’t remember the car crash at all. If it was a concussion or a trauma response… I don’t know. I never wanted to know.”

Gojo was serious now. Not even the shadow of a smile on his face — and that was a bit shocking. You hadn’t seen him actually serious before. The slight frown of his brows, the tightness of his jaw; it’s like you could see his brain working furiously, trying to connect the dots.

“So this period of time is blank in your mind?” You nodded. Gojo hummed. “Anything could’ve happened to you in the meantime.” 

“Yeah.”

Gojo crossed his arms and tapped his index finger over his lips. He was planning something. His analyzing gaze over you was a bit overwhelming.

“I know someone who could try to look into your head. But it’s not gonna be nice or easy for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Messing with memories is complicated. Especially painful memories.”

You sighed heavily. Just this short conversation was already taking too much from your brain prowess and your already fucked up emotional state. But at the same time… there were way too many strange things about you, and you were as eager to discover the truth as he was. More than he was, in fact.

So you nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Gojo nodded and immediately took his phone again. “Okay. I’ll call her.”

You massaged your own thighs under the table nervously. “So… how’s it gonna be? Are we going somewhere? I’m gonna get changed—”

Gojo waved his hand and shook his head. “Relax, sweetheart, it won’t be today. I’m gonna book her on your day off, okay?”

You didn’t know who the fuck “she” was and you didn’t feel like asking. You cracked another beer open and huffed. “Good luck with that. I don’t even know when my next day off will be.”

“Oh, what a busy woman! A workaholic! I should be thankful that she’s gracing me with her presence right now!” There he was, with his silly sarcasm again. 

You didn’t know Gojo that well, but there were a few things you already got about him. The way he tried to brighten the mood despite the shittiest situations. The way he’d act silly and carefree, so you (Mayu and Fushiguro to an extent) wouldn’t freak out. He was definitely arrogant — the way he boasted about himself most times wasn’t jokingly, you noticed — yet, at the same time, you noticed it was a tad bit intentional. It’s like he was trying to distract everyone. 

That was nice of him. It really was.

And it unfortunately worked on you, because you were smiling again while drinking more beer.

“Says the guy who hasn’t been home in five days.”

Gojo looked up from his phone for a moment and wiggled his eyebrows. “What? Missed me too bad?”

“You have no idea.” You got up from the floor, carrying the cans in your hands. “Now, excuse me… I don’t wanna get another nosebleed.”

Gojo cackled while you walked out of the room — and a truth you had to admit to yourself is that you liked the idea of making him smile.

A/N: I really want to focus on the doctor aspect of her life. She practically lives inside the hospital so it wouldn't make sense to not add what she's doing there lol. Doing research on medical procedures is being so fun!!! By the way, I apologize in advance if you're an actual doctor/student and spot anything too inaccurate, I'm trusting a few sketchy sources to write this lol Originally this ch would have some action, but it wrapped up nicely, so I decided to keep it short :D As usual, feedback is MUCH appreciated! If you read it this far, don't forget to leave a comment <3 See you!

[kimvvantae]

Weak Point; 3

⤕ It's crazy how life can turn upside down overnight. In your case, life took a 180º turn the morning you discovered you were the weakness of the most powerful creature in the world.

From a normal citizen, you become Jujutsu Society's most coveted target. In a world where everyone wants your head on a silver platter, plagued by secrets of the past and struggling to balance what remains of your “normal” life, you are trapped in a situation you cannot escape.

And yet - amid the chaos, you slowly realize that you might be his weak point in ways that have nothing to do with sorcery.

pairing: gojo x (f) reader

genre: romance, fluff and humor, angst, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, "oh no we have to live in the same house" trope, fix-it fic (kinda)

warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (in future parts), grief, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit language, me trying to be funny

rating: 18+

word count: 9k

⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

You were incapable of understanding words anymore.

That part of your brain had shut down. Your neurons were yelling and running around desperately as their workplace was on fire.

You stared at him. He stared back.

“What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart. You can come live with me.”

It still didn’t make sense. Like everything else that happened that day.

He was crouched down to your eye level. Smiling as if he had proposed something completely inside the scope of what’s considered normal. As if he had said “Let’s order pizza for dinner” instead of whatever it meant.

“Live with you?”

Gojo nodded. Still smiling. Why was he still smiling? “Yep!”

One of your neurons stopped for a moment. Processed what he said. Understood it. And then went back to yelling and running in circles.

You got up in a jump.

“Are you insane?!” Now you were walking around nervously too. Away from him. Gojo hummed and turned around, still crouching over his one kilometer legs.

“I’m pretty sane against all odds.”

“You can’t just… ask me to live with you!”

“Why not?” He pouted. One of your neurons stopped running and stared at his glossy plump lips in awe, before being pushed over by another panicked neuron. “The house’s pretty big! We got enough rooms for everybody!”

“Why not?! Well, for starters, I don’t even know you!” You crossed your arms protectively.

Gojo giggled and stood up straight. Damn, he’s tall, one of the neurons noticed again as its colleague’s head was on fire. He put his hands inside the pockets of his pants and tilted his head slightly.

“Don’t get emotional, sweetheart. I know I’m irresistible, but this isn’t a marriage proposal. I’m just saying you can come live in my house.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You pointed at him angrily. More neurons head’s caught fire. “I met you this morning. You saved me — thank you, by the way — but I don’t know what type of person you are! I don’t know anything about you, actually, besides the fact that you’re a sorcerer-teacher-whatever and that you got reeeeally sensitive eyes.” He giggled at your mocking impression of his voice. A neuron tripped over and fell flat on the floor.

Gojo hummed and shrugged. “Well. I really didn’t introduce myself.” He offered you a hand. “Name’s Gojo Satoru. Sorcerer-teacher-whatever, at your service. Extremely reliable, extremely strong, and extremely good looking — but you already noticed that.” You were under the impression he would’ve winked if that thing wasn’t covering his eyes.

You scrapped the heel of your tennis over the concrete floor nervously. “I don’t— I still don’t get why. It just sounds way too drastic and unrealistic.”

It makes you look even more like a creep is what you really wanted to say.

“I’ve explained to you already, honey boo—”

“I have a name.”

“—you’re out of options. You told granny to fuck off. You don’t wanna be a sorcerer, which, you know, understandable, but there’s still people hunting you out there, and they seem pretty keen on succeeding. There’s a big fat target over your head right now, and it won’t disappear until we get to the root of the problem. Now, you and your sister need protection.”

You scrapped your heel more nervously. One neuron was sitting in the corner, holding its chin with a pensive expression while everything else burned, muttering what he’s saying makes sense. But still — living with him? It was strange, sudden, awkward, like everything else that happened in the past ten hours or so.

In a normal setting, no one would accept to live with someone they met that morning — a really emotional lesbian would after the first date, a neuron noted, but you ignored it —, especially considering your situation. A woman with a teenage sister. Despite the looks, Gojo didn’t really feel like a creep in the worst sense of the word, but still. You barely knew him. Would you be safe around him? Would Mayu be safe?

You avoided his gaze. “I… I really don’t know—”

“Your nose is bleeding.”

Your eyes snapped up. “What?”

“I’m serious. Your nose is bleeding.”

The neuron responsible for feeling when you had a runny nose was passed out on the floor in front of the control table.

You touched the space between your nose and your lips. Your fingertips came bloody.

“What the fuck?” You mumbled quietly. More was coming. You pinched your nose and kept your lead lowered. “Shid. I deed ice.”

Maybe looking down was a bad idea, because the moment you did, the world twirled.

“Wow, wow—” And then his hand was on your arm, supporting you before you could stumble and fall. Gojo pressed his palm on your forehead gently (Damn, his hand is big, one of the neurons noticed as its colleague’s head was still on fire) and hummed. “You got a fever, too. Not good.”

Fever? Were you feverish? Well, that’d explain why you thought the breeze was kinda cold despite the hellish temperature.

“I deed paracedamol—” You muttered a second before the world twirled again — with reason this time: your legs were off the floor. Gojo had carried you bridal style swiftly as if you had no weight once more. Not a single grunt of effort.

Okay, that was hot, one neuron said, nodding. Three other neurons stopped running to watch the scene and nodded. Yeah, totally, uh-huh.

“To the infirmary we go,” he announced.

“I can sdill walk,” you tried whilst still pinching your nose.

Your stomach dropped. That feeling was familiar — he had done this, whatever it was, when he saved you. Space warped. Your brain felt like sludge inside your skull. And then—

You weren’t out in the open anymore, behind that shrine looking building. You were inside the infirmary in the blink of an eye.

A couple neurons committed suicide.

“Shoooookooo,” he sung. You tightened your eyes, bothered by the volume of his voice. It felt like hammers in your head. “You got a patient!”

He walked over to one of the hospital beds and put you sitting there with surprising care (That was hot, the group of neurons said in unison while nodding). You heard steps. There she was — doctor lady with the same tired face.

“My dose is bleeding,” you explained — and your doctor genes immediately kicked in. The will to explain everything going on with you in excruciating detail while trying to self diagnose at the same time.She hummed and took a couple of gauze; you immediately pressed it on your nose while still keeping your head down. It was a constant flow of blood. Felt horrible. “Got a god-awful headache since I woke up, too, and occasional dizziness. I feel like shit, so my blood pressure must’ve dropped. Also, huh, I think I don’t really sleep in over 30 hours now.”

“24 hour shift?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“You guys are savages, interrogating and draggin’ her around after a full shift.” She sent a judging eye towards Gojo. Finally, someone’s on my side!, you thought tiredly (Wasn’t she interrogating us too?, one neuron asked, frowning). He turned his lips downwards and put his palms up in a surrendering gesture. She pointed towards the door. “Outta my infirmary now.”

“Okaaay.” Gojo shrugged and walked out obediently.

“D’you have occasional nosebleed?” Doctor lady (Gojo said her name, right? What was her name…?) asked while offering a thermometer which you promptly put under your arm.

“No.”

She tightened her eyes. “Weird.”

You brushed the gauze under your nose for a moment before pressing it once more. “I guess I went over my exhaustion limit today.”

The thermometer beeped. She took it: 38,6º of fever. Not good.

“There’s that, too, but you got something else going on. Lay down.”

You did. It felt nice to lay down, even in the uncomfortable hospital bed.

She threw the gauze in the trash can nearby, put gloves on and made you put your arms on your sides. You thought she was going to check your vitals (she hadn’t checked your blood pressure, which was already weird), but the brunette did something else.

She put one hand over your chest and one over your stomach.

Closed her eyes for a moment. Silent. Focused.

The neurons stared at her altogether, forgetting the fire around them for a moment. What the fuck?

The hand over your stomach went up, slowly. Now both were over your chest. She opened her eyes and nodded.

“Yep. That’s it.”

You couldn’t hide your weirded out expression.

“Uh… may I ask what’s going on?”

“It’s exhaustion,” she explained absently. “But it’s also your body adjusting to the sudden burst of cursed energy.”

Some neurons had a stroke. Others went back to screaming and running.

“It’s not that uncommon. Happens when someone doesn’t use their cursed energy in a long time. Nanami had that, too, when he came back to business,” you didn’t know who the fuck Nanami was (though she muttered that last sentence more to herself than to you). “Cursed energy is like any part of your body, you know. It has to be exercised regularly. If it’s not, and then you suddenly use it to full force, you’ll get cramps.”

“I didn’t— I didn’t use it. I don’t know how.”

“Just ‘cause you don’t know how, doesn’t mean you didn’t.”

“But I—”

Wait.

Actually.

That moment, laying on the floor of the meat locker. When you “caught fire” and the papers — seals — burned.

“I think I did.” You confessed quietly. She nodded with a knowing little smile.

“Yeah. Now, let me focus…”

She closed her eyes again. Now, one palm was at the top of your head.

You still thought that was weird.

Then you felt it.

It felt cold at first, as if you had frost injected in your veins. It felt uncomfortable… until it didn’t anymore. Your body was light as if you were flowing with the calm, cold current of a crystal clear river.

The headache was gone. Your legs didn’t feel like jelly anymore. You felt the fever dissipate as if she had taken it into her bare hands and thrown away in the trash can with the bloody gauze.

No more than three minutes later, she stepped away.

“Feel better?”

You stared up at her in awe.

All the neurons had their jaws dropped.

“How— Did— Huh?!” Was all you could mutter.

She shrugged while throwing the disposable gloves in the trash can. “You can sit, but I’m not done with you yet.”

You did. Slowly. More neurons had strokes.

You’d experienced more weirdness in the past hours than in your entire life. This, however, was what truly changed your worldview.

That woman healed you in minutes with magic.

This type of thing was simply possible? It just casually exist in this world? What was the point of our profession, then? What was the point of years of med school, of hospitals? If she could heal people with her hands, why was she hidden inside this school? Why hadn’t she won a Nobel Prize? Why hadn’t she cured cancer or AIDS worldwide—?

“I know what you thinking,” she came back holding a platter with a few pills and a plastic cup filled with water. “What I just did only works for sorcerers. Normal people can’t be healed like that. So don’t freak out.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t hold back that sigh of relief. “I was freaking out.”

“Figured.” She smiled again. She pointed at the pills. “This one’s to help regulate your cursed energy circulation. This one’s to help ease your inflamed body. This one’s paracetamol. And this one will knock you out for some good hours.”

“Right.” Normal you would’ve taken your time to ask the exact name of each medicament, but you didn’t have it in you at that moment — and you’d trust the woman who healed you with her bare hands with your eyes shut. You took the first pill and swallowed it. “Thank you…”

“Ieiri Shoko at your service. Chief doctor of Jujutsu High.” She offered a kind, tired smile. Ieiri eyed your uniform and the Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital logo embroidered over the left side of your chest. “Resident?”

“Yeah.”

“How long in?”

“Two years in September. Emergency.”

“Oof. I knew it. I can spot an adrenaline junkie from miles.” You both chuckled. She leaned on the bed while you took the second pill. “Pretty hard to get accepted in the Metropolitan, eh? You must have a great resume.”

“Well. Kind of.” You shrugged absently. Having graduated at a prestigious international med school helped. Having a cardiologist father in your ear for most of your studying years helped, too. You tightened your eyes at Ieiri for a moment. She was about your age, but already a chief doctor? Even if she began med school earlier, she still wouldn’t have finished a residency yet. “Where’d you take your residency?”

“Oh, I didn’t. Just straight to business. Jujutsu High didn’t have time to wait for me.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I wasn’t planning to work with public health care anyway. My thing was always with sorcery, but I still needed a degree.”

You swallowed the paracetamol, barely containing your excitement. “So… what did you do to me exactly?”

“Reverse cursed energy.” She said flatly. Yeah, that explains everything. Ieiri sighed. “Cursed energy is negative energy, so in order to heal, you have to multiply it over itself to create positive energy…”

It felt that your headache was coming back. All of your neurons had gathered on a strike, holding plates and pitchforks, shouting angrily at you: WE WANT TO REST!! NO MORE SORCERY BULLSHIT!!

You scowled and scratched your head.

“I think I took too much info for a day. Promise I’ll come bother you any other time to try to understand what the hell you’re saying.” Ieiri let a tired chuckle.

“Yeah, you have a ton of things to try to understand. Like why no one suspected you had cursed energy before, and why it manifested all of sudden.” She tightened her eyes at you, and for a moment, you felt like a lab rat being thoroughly analyzed. “I could run some tests on you to find out if you have a pathological condition of some sort…”

“Right.” I’m not so sure about that.

“So. Like I said, this pill will knock you out. You need a place to sleep. Are you staying in the school?”

This made you remember the other problem you were dealing with.

“Hm… I was told me and my sister could spend the night here. But after that…”

You eyed Ieiri.

She obviously knew Gojo, though you didn’t know how close they were. Still better than nothing. A woman, on top of that, to give you some solid opinions.

“Gojo explained we can’t stay here much longer.” You began, paying close attention to her reactions. “So… he offered us his house for the time being.”

She widened her eyes slightly.

“He did?” You nodded. Ieiri shrugged. “It’s a good option.”

That took you by surprise.

You frowned and leaned towards her slightly. “Is it, really?” You dropped your voice, scared he was still out there, listening. “I mean— I don’t know him at all. I don’t even understand why he’d propose this in the first place.”

“I bet he feels responsible.”

“Why would he feel responsible? He’s got nothing to do with it.” You crossed your arms. “We met this morning. Do you sorcerers feel responsible like this over everybody?”

It was Ieiri’s turn to frown. “He’s got everything to do with it. You can pierce his Infinity. I’d place all my bets that that’s the reason why they put a reward on your head in the first place.” At your utter confused expression, she sighed. “Sorry. I forgot you don’t know… it’s so weird to meet someone that doesn’t.” She placed the platter over the bed beside you and crossed her arms. “Look. If he offered you this, it means you’re not joining Jujutsu High. So this is your best chance. Gojo might be an idiot, but he’s not a creep. And he’s pretty dependable despite everything.”

You intertwined your fingers over your lap. “He said the school is the safest place in the world for me and my sister.”

“The safest place in the world is anywhere he’s at.”

That took you by surprise.

Ieiri didn’t look like the type of person who would say that about anyone.

It made you wonder: who exactly was Gojo Satoru?

She sighed again and took the platter. “You had enough for today. Here, take the pill. You need to sleep right now or you’ll get another fever.”

“But… you said it’d knock me out—”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. No one will hurt you here.”

A part of you didn’t want to. You wanted answers. You wanted to find out everything weird and wrong about you, the people after you, your mother, your technique— and you wanted everything at that moment.

But you truly had enough for a day.

So you took the pill — even though you didn’t expect it’d actually knock you out two minutes after you swallowed it.

It led you to a deep, dreamless, well deserved sleep.

All your neurons celebrated.

Mayu had her leg over you.

She always did, ever since she was 4 and would crawl up your bed in the middle of the night because she had a nightmare. It didn’t bother you back then, but she was big now. You could bet she’d be taller than you before the year ended. And you were both laying on a single bed. She was almost pushing you off the bed, actually.

There was a mattress on the floor. You wondered if they’d offered her a different room, but she asked to sleep with you anyway. She must’ve crawled up the bed the same way she did when she was four.

This made your heart ache.

Mayu just acted nonchalant. She was also scared of what happened to your home.

After long minutes of contemplating the ceiling, you sighed and got off the bed slowly to not wake her up (not that it was hard — a bomb could drop over her head and she would not wake up). You sat on the mattress with your legs crossed and let the gears in your mind fully turn. After sleeping so much, the gears were polished with machine oil and were turning smoothly. The neurons had swept the floor, mopped it with an aromatic detergent that smelled of lemon. The control room was pristine clean.

Which didn’t mean you were okay, of course. Just more rational.

You both were inside a simple, yet spacious dorm room. Sunlight entered through a breach on the curtains, birds chirped a relaxing melody. Your phone lit up with life again as you put it on the charger: the screen showed, 6:21, July 19th, Sunday. The notification bar was overloaded with even more texts and missed calls. You ignored everyone.

You had many decisions to make. Life-changing ones. And many topics to discuss. But you also smelled of unwashed ass and your panties were way past the expiration date, so a shower had to come first.

You hooked your backpack on your shoulder and left the room quietly.

At first, you hoped to find someone to give you directions, but the entirety of the dorm building was empty. Sure, it was still six in the morning of a Sunday, yet the fact that you couldn’t hear a sound was weird. If the whole place wasn’t pristine clean, you’d think it was abandoned. Regardless, it wasn’t hard to find the communal bathroom — again, empty.

You only remembered you hadn’t brought shampoo or hair conditioner when your head was already under the shower (first little inconvenience of the day). Then you checked the clothes you shoved absently inside the backpack: jeans pants and that grey oversized t-shirt with a giant Godzilla printed on — Ren’s t-shirt. The problem isn’t that the shirt was Ren’s, but that you knew it’d get super hot later and that wearing the shirt felt the same as wrapping yourself in a thermal blanket (second little inconvenience of the day). You didn’t even dare trying to untangle your hair in that state, so you just tied it into a bun, wet and all. You were an expert in buns. Your scalp cried a little every day.

You needed to eat. You also needed to smoke. You didn’t know if it was allowed to smoke inside the campus. Well, this place is dead empty, you thought. You lightened up a cigarette behind the dorm building in a pretty hidden spot, away from the windows. There’s no way anyone will see if I smoke a little.

Beeeeep. Wrong.

“Smokin’ ain’t allowed here, miss.”

You shrieked and almost dropped the cigarette.

A familiar mop of white hair was peeking at you from the corner.

Gojo approached with his already usual relaxed demeanor. Hands in the pockets of his jacket and all. Had he even slept?

Shit. I didn’t expect to meet him so early. I didn’t even really think about what I’ll tell him.

“My bad, I didn’t know.” You didn’t let go of the cigarette, however. You doubted he actually cared. You bowed your head in a small greeting. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’. Feel better?” He leaned his back on the wall beside you.

“Yes.”

“Shoko’s sleeping pills knocked you out, huh? You were acting funny, walking to the dorm. Bet you were already asleep.”

Oh. You didn’t even remember walking to the bedroom in the first place. “Yeah. I slept very well. I’ll see if she can give me a pack later.”

Gojo chuckled. “Careful with that! I slept, like, three days straight once because of these. She had to forcefully wake my brain ‘cause she was scared I was gonna die.”

You blew smoke, moving your face away from him (though the breeze was blowing in the opposite direction already. That’s why he chose that spot?) and a bit of a strange silence settled. You were nervous. You’d been nervous since you woke up.

You cleaned your throat. “I haven’t properly thanked you yet, have I?”

Gojo clicked his tongue and smiled handsomely. “Don’t mention it.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“No, you saved my life. I can’t not thank you.”

“It’s fine, really! That was any other day in the life of the great Gojo Satoru. No big deal for me.” He shrugged.

“Was a big deal for me.”

He hummed for a moment before opening a grin that made him look like an evil gremlin. “Okay, then. Show me your deep polite bow and your proper thank you.”

You stared at him with a blank expression.

You turned your head and blew more smoke. “Thanks.”

He gasped. “That’s your ‘proper thank you’?!”

“No, but you pissed me off.”

Gojo pouted and whined like a literal child who was denied something. “That’s not niiice. You put my expectations up there!”

He’s kinda funny, one half-asleep neuron noted. The colleague beside him nodded. You took another puff and told them to shut up.

“I talked to Ieiri-san yesterday,” you began in a quiet tone after a few beats of silence, blowing more smoke. “I said I didn’t understand why you’d feel responsible over me if you had nothing to do with it. She said you had everything to do with it.” You eyed him again, quirking one eyebrow up.

Gojo crossed his arms and whined again. His lips turned downwards. “D’you really wanna talk about that now? It’s six in the morning, man. My brain ain’t even really on yet.”

“Yes.” You said flatly.

He whined like an old man now. So he whines like a child when he’s disappointed and like an old man when he’s doing something he doesn’t want to. The neuron rapidly scribbled this information in its notebook.

“To put it simply,” he said while holding his chin. “Your technique completely nullifies mine. And that’s a problem.”

“A problem to who exactly…?”

“To me. Duh. And to everybody else in extent.” He smirked cheekily. “I’m pretty important, you know? Lots and lots of guys tryin’ to take me down.”

One more puff. You tightened your eyes at him. You did see Gojo blow up a ceiling, fly, freaking teleport, twist limbs at will. Shoko stated you’d be safe with him. The kidnappers looked scared of him. But still — it didn’t make that much sense why you would be targeted.

“Who are ‘guys’?” You blew more smoke. “D’you go around pissing everyone off?”

“Yep. Pissing people off is what I’m best at.” He shrugged. He did look proud of himself.

“Doesn’t sound like appropriate behavior for a teacher. What kinda role model is that?”

“A doctor smoking, what kinda role model is that?”

Gojo cackled unabashedly at your angry scowl. A couple of neurons giggled with him. You told them to shut up.

“Okay. So my technique is Extinguishment.” You began, gesticulating with the cigarette still between your fingers. “And it works against yours.” He nodded. “D’you offer everyone who can counter your technique housing and protection?”

He cackled again. “Hah, of course not. No one can counter my technique, sweetheart. Well. Except you.”

You stared at him in silence again.

It didn’t look like he was joking.

You pushed yourself off the wall to face him. “No one?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’ve been in the business for long enough to be sure.”

One more puff. The cigarette was almost finished. “Okay. But even if I have this thing, I don’t know how to use it. How’s it gonna work against you?” You exhaled more smoke. “Even better question: why would I make it work against you? You seem pretty chill despite everything. I wouldn’t wanna take you down, or whatever.”

Gojo clasped his hands together and tilted his head to the side. “Awww. I’m pretty chill? That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle this time whilst rolling your eyes. “Answer the question.”

He put his clasped hands over his stomach. Gojo was still smiling, but his tone got a bit more serious. “There are curse users with mind controlling techniques. There are ways to copy or steal a technique as well. Or they could simply make you work for them through torture.” He shrugged. “They wouldn’t be so scandalous with your kidnapping if they weren’t sure they’d make good use of it. So everything leads me to believe they know how to… and if they get a chance, they will.”

A chill ran up and down your spine.

The few minutes you spent conscious in that meat locker. The way katana man pulled you by the hair and was about to slap you, or punch you, by the movement of his hand, a second before Gojo burst through the ceiling.

Gojo pushed himself off the wall as well and shoved his hands inside the pockets of the jacket again. He kicked a pebble away absently.

“Orrrr they want you to break some seal, free some curse. These are possibilities too. Who knows?” He shrugged once more. “The dudes haven’t opened their mouths yet, but I doubt they’re the only ones after you, or the only ones whoever’s really after you sent. To summarize: you’re in real trouble, sweetheart.”

“I have a name.” You whined again through gritted teeth, though this barely bothered you given the gravity of what he just said. “The three kidnappers are alive?”

“For now.” Another chill ran down your spine.

You hadn’t really really grasped the concept of the ‘why me’ part. Now it was loud and fucking clear. The people after you were willing to torture you to get what they wanted. Went as far as invading your home. They probably already knew about Mayu or even Aunt Junko at this point. The mere thought made your shiver yet again.

Ieiri’s words echoed in your mind.

The safest place in the world is anywhere he’s at.

The last puff. You savored the smoke in your tongue before blowing it. Your head went down when you started to walk in circles again.

“So— how’s this gonna work? You said you were okay with me keeping my residency, but— what if they pop up in the hospital again? What happens if they take me on the way to work? I— I don’t have a fixed schedule. I take weekly 24 hour shifts, I work extra, my days off are random, I—”

He leaned down to your eye level.

Quickly. You didn’t even notice him approaching.

The words got caught in your throat.

“Sooo you’re coming with me?” Why did he sound excited?

“Well, yeah? You said yourself that I don’t have other options.” Uh. That sounded kind of rude. You cleaned your throat. “I mean— thank you for even offering in the first place. I hope it won’t cause you any trouble—”

He fisted the air and leaned away.

“Yayyyy! This is gonna be soo fun!”

You were baffled.

“You just said there’s people wanting to torture me. What’s funny about this?”

“Tsk. Details!”

“What about what I just said? About my work schedule—?”

“One step at a time, sweetheart! Let’s wake Megumi and Mayu-chan—”

He was turning around already — and you wouldn’t reach him fast with his one kilometer legs — so you touched his arm on instinct. “Wait—”

Gojo flinched.

Like a cat.

He turned around in a jump. If it weren’t for the blindfold, you were sure he’d have his eyes widened.

There was something a bit uncanny in seeing a man that big getting scared so easily.

You retracted your arm. Gojo himself seemed a bit taken aback by his own reaction. Or you thought so, that fucking blindfold made it difficult to read him.

“Uh…” Don’t make it awkward, you told yourself. “Mayu. I don’t know what to tell her.”

Gojo recovered much faster than you. He was grinning again. “Don’t worry, sweetheart! I have it all planned out!” And then he turned around again.

“I have a name!”

You found out Fushiguro lived with Gojo the same moment he found out you were going to live with them.

So Gojo is his legal guardian. Now Fushiguro’s involvement with the whole thing made sense. It also felt like a very weird coincidence.

Well.

Fushiguro wasn’t happy with it.

Probably because Gojo banged on his door at six in the morning. Mayu was barely awake, holding the fat demon in her arms.

“We’re all gonna live together!” He chirped to the other barely awake teenager.

The two of them really woke up at the moment.

“What?!” Fushiguro exclaimed. You’d never seen him talk this loud.

“Why?!” Mayu exclaimed. That wasn’t the loudest she could get. You were mildly disappointed.

Gojo pointed at Fushiguro. “You know why.” Gojo pointed at Mayu. “You’re both on witness protection service now.”

Mayu tightened her eyes at you. “What did you do?”

“That’s your reaction?” You were mildly offended.

“Nuh-huh, no questions, Mayu-chan! Your sister’s case is under judicial secrecy!”

“For how long?” Fushiguro looked either about to vomit or jump out the window again.

“Until her case’s settled!” Gojo put both hands together close to his face in somewhat of a praying pose. “C’moooon, Megumi! It’s gonna be fun!”

No one was having fun. Not even you. Knowing there were, you know. People trying to torture you and all.

Countess meowed one of her old lady raspy meows.

Gojo pointed at the demon and looked at you. “This is how you gonna sound in five years if you don’t quit smokin’.”

“Countess is hungry.” Mayu said, ignoring Gojo and the way you glared at him.

“The cat’s coming too?” Fushiguro asked in a constipated voice. He looked constipated. Or about to vomit. Or about to jump out the window.

Mayu’s head whipped in his direction at the speed of light. “Of course she’s coming. Got a problem with that?”

“Yes, I got a problem with that. I don’t like cats.”

Mayu looked about to bite his face off. Fushiguro looked about to square up. Or about to vomit. Or about to jump out the window.

Gojo slapped the back of his head, making him go ouch!. “Be nice, Megumi! Of course the cat’s coming. They can’t abandon her on the street.”

“I’m not gonna clean cat poop.” He crossed his arms like a child.

“No one’s asking you to clean her poop, jackass—”

You elbowed her side. She winced. Countess hissed. “Don’t talk to him like that.”

Gojo clapped his hands. “Great! Let’s move! We got a lot to do!”

You all swallowed breakfast and in half an hour were squeezed in the car. Again.

Fushiguro had earphones on now, angrily staring out the window with such intensity that he might be able to break the glass with the power of his mind. Mayu was half asleep. You were, again, in the middle, like a child. The driver— (Ijichi, Ijichi, Ijichi, his name’s Ijichi) looked pretty disposed against all odds. Of course he was a morning person. Gojo had the decency to not pump loud music, at least.

Mayu widened her eyes all of sudden and turned to you. “What about my date?!”

“What?”

“My date with Kiku on Wednesday. What about my date?!”

“This is what you’re worried about?” You might be able to blow her brain with the power of your mind at that moment. “We’re both on witness protection service and that’s what you’re worried about?”

Gojo sighed. “Mayu-chan knows what’s good. Priorities!”

“Mind your business, will you?” You punched the back of his seat. He giggled.

“That’s a valid question!” Mayu tried to defend herself.

You rolled your eyes and sunk on the seat, deciding to simply not deal with her at that moment. It was time to answer the tons of messages. Remi was calling you very bad names. Some colleagues showed polite worry. You boss — fuck, what would you tell your boss?! — texted, too. And Aunt Junko—

“Oh, my God. D’you talk to Aunt Junko?” You asked while dialing her number and gluing the phone to your ear.

“Yeah, but you know how she is.”

Shit shit shit. How could you leave the hypertensive 64 year old unanswered?!

“Hi? Good morning, Auntie!” She picked up on the second ring, which made your heart tighten with guilt. “Yeah, I’m so sorry. My phone— my phone died and I couldn’t call you. No, I’m fine! Oh, you saw— you saw on TV? Yeah. Yeah, there was an accident. It’s fine. I wasn’t— I wasn’t injured or anything. It’s fine. No, Auntie— the hospital didn’t blow up. It was a small explosion. Yeah, I still have my job.” Or at least you hoped so. “Yeah. How about you? Are you okay? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for worrying you. Yeah, Mayu’s fine. She’s right here. She’s—”

You paused.

Slowly, you turned to her, your face hardening like stone.

She shrunk.

“Oh. She did?” Mayu avoided your gaze. “Oooh. That’s great to hear. Thanks for telling me.”

Gojo chuckled quietly.

“I’ll call you later, ‘kay, Auntie? Promise I’ll have dinner with you soon. Yeah. God bless you, too. Bye.”

You slammed your forearm against her neck and pressed her head on the window.

“You went to Shinjuku!”

Fushiguro jumped. Ijichi shrieked.

“Stop that!” Mayu tried, frightened.

“You little shit, you went to the festival behind my back! You lied to me! You lied to Aunt!”

“I didn’t— I wasn’t—”

“Oh, so what’s your excuse gonna be?!”

Mayu gulped. “She’s bullying me! Help!”

Gojo chuckled. Fushiguro tried his best to pretend to not be interested. Ijichi shrieked.

“Did you drink? Did you drink?!”

“No!” You kept staring. “Okay— maybe I took a sip from a friend—”

“You took a sip?!” You huffed and threw your arms up. “You are fourteen years old!”

“Don’t act like you never did it when you were my age!” She crossed her arms defensively. “Didn’t you do it too when you were my age, Mr. Blindfold?”

Gojo shook his head vehemently. “Leave me out of this, Mayu-chan!”

“The sip you took could’ve been from a spiked drink! You don’t drink from other’s people’s cups! You’re being an idiot, and I didn’t teach you to be an idiot!” You swiftly took her phone from her hand.

“Hey!”

“That’s for lying to me, Mayuka.”

Gojo hissed. “Called by the government name. It got serious.”

It was her turn to punch the back of his seat. “Mind your business!”

Gojo giggled.

What a beautiful start of your day.

A little bit before eight, you got to your apartment.

You had to file a police report, obviously, due to the break-in. Gojo found a way to fasten the process. Gojo also had already hired a moving company (you wondered what he’d do if you had said no, as that was obviously arranged before you complied). Regardless, there were already boxes and three guys to help take all the stuff downstairs.

The work started.

The apartment was a mess. Some things were broken beyond repair. It was a bit depressing to see that expensive blender broken on the kitchen’s floor, or that full body mirror shattered (why are mirrors so freaking expensive?), or that limited edition Flower Knows eyeshadow palette destroyed on your bedroom’s floor (that made a couple of neurons hold a formal funeral in the corner). Yet, you decided to push the auto-pilot lever up, because if you stopped for a second to think about why everything was happening, you’d feel actually sad. And you couldn’t be sad. That’s what highly functional adults do — they repress every bit of feeling in order to work.

Right?

You were frenetic, walking around the apartment and giving orders like a general. Put the clothes in the suitcases and the black bags. No, this is trash. Please, careful with that. Put the kitchen utensils right here. Mayu, write in these boxes. I think there’s a sharpie in the kitchen. No, the second drawer. I can take these, it’s fine. Thank you, Ijichi.

Despite the grimace, Fushiguro showed to be very helpful, carrying boxes with little to no effort. Ijichi struggled much more, but was very willing to help nevertheless. The only one not helping much was the white-haired bastard. You’d catch him leaning on places, scrolling down his phone, emptying your freaking fridge—

“You don’t need to take all the furniture, sweetheart. Our house is pretty well equipped.”

He looked (“looked”) up from his phone to meet your angry gaze. Your forehead was sweaty, you had pushed the sleeves of the t-shirt up (thermal blanket), you wanted to slap him.

“I have a name.”

“The more you complain about it, the less I feel like calling you by your name, sweetheart.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I thought I was pretty chill.” He pouted dramatically. Some neurons giggled. You rolled your eyes and took another box in your arms. “You got decent stamina for a smoker. I thought you’d be coughing your lungs out already.”

“I exercise regularly.” Okay. Maybe regularly was a stretch. Your work schedule didn’t allow you to do anything regularly. But yeah, you could jog a few respectable kilometers without passing out. “What’d you want me to do about my furniture? I can’t throw it all away. It’s not like we’ll live there forever.”

“One step at a tiiiime. We can figure it out later. Now, just pack what matters the most. Also, your car— it’s gotta go.”

You put the box on the floor again.

“Why my car?!”

“’Cause they much obviously already got the license plate. Duh. It’ll be like driving around a carnival car with giant neon arrows pointing at you like I’m here!! Pleeease kidnap me!!”

Your shoulders dropped and you sighed in defeat. You didn’t want to. That car was an achievement. You got it less than a year ago. It didn’t matter that it was a second-hand (third-hand? Fourth-hand?) 2010 Alto, it was still your car and you liked it.

Gojo grumbled quietly. You looked up to him again.

“Or you can just keep it hidden in the garage, I guess.” He scratched the back of his head.

A smile immediately crept up your lips. “Thanks.”

He smiled back.

A few neurons giggled.

You crouched to take the box again. “If you’re not gonna help, at least don’t stand in the way, sweetheart.”

Gojo huffed. “How am I not helping? I’m doing security full time!”

It was past three in the afternoon when everything essential got packed and inside the back of the truck. You hadn’t had lunch yet, but you were so worked up that your stomach hadn’t complained yet.

Especially — most of your bodily functions were brushed aside the moment you parked in front of the place you’d live in for the foreseeable future.

Look.

In Tokyo, space equals wealth.

It’s a crumpled city. Too many people, too little space. Cars are small, apartments are small, trains are packed, traffic is heavy. The simple fact that you found a two bedroom apartment close to a subway station was already a miracle (an expensive miracle), and in all honesty, it wasn’t even that tiny. Your salary wasn’t the highest it could get yet as you were still a resident, but it couldn’t be considered bad (and luckily, you were paid extra to work those 24 hour shifts, which boosted your income. Not all hospitals were willing to pay for it). Nevertheless, you were aware of how much that apartment cost you.

So when you realized that the car was getting into Meguro of all places, your stomach dropped.

You and Mayu stood side by side on the sidewalk. Both speechless.

“There’s a yard,” she noted.

“Yes.”

“And trees.”

“Yes.”

“And two floors.”

“Yes.”

She looked at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me Blindfold-san was rich?”

You gulped. “I didn’t know, either.”

Because owning a house like that could only mean wealth.

The house was surrounded by walls high enough to prevent passersby to see anything inside; the trees in the property made it even more impossible. It didn’t look like a new construction — not in a “it’s an old house” way, but in a generational wealth way. It had that traditional slanted tiled roof and shoji-style windows that could only mean oh, my peepaw built this house back in the sixties when he founded the family’s enterprises.

There was a dark marble plate above the mail box with a very elegant “五条” carved on it.

Jesus.

You crossed the opening gates. The front yard had the greenest grass you’d ever seen, a stone trail leading to the entrance of the house, and on your left—

“A koi pond,” Mayu gasped quietly. “A freaking koi pond.”

“I saw it, Mayu.” You gasped quietly back.

Surprisingly, the inside didn’t look like a sterile Instagram house, neither it had over the top decoration. It looked like a lived in house. And yet, the luxury was there: it was quiet, in the way the furniture was made of ebony (again — it didn’t look like it was bought recently; it had been there for a while, as high quality materials like that are also generational), the small indoor garden, the very well equipped and large kitchen. The living room was huge. It had a freaking sofa pit (that seemed a bit more recent) with the biggest fucking TV you’d ever seen. It also had the biggest DVD collection you’d ever seen. Mayu gagged at the amount of game consoles on the TV stand.

The house had five bedrooms total. Three bathrooms. One of the bedrooms was on the first floor; they were using it as some sort of storage room, so it had a lot of stuff inside. The rest was up there. The rooms had tatami floor, large windows, built-in wardrobes…

You were impressed and a bit intimidated, to say the least.

And to remember I was worried about Fushiguro back then. He’s much better off than me.

While you were taking boxes out of the truck, you pulled Mayu when you finally got some time alone.

“Mayu. Listen.” You began in a hushed voice. “This is not our house, okay? So don’t be messy. If you break something, I will break your neck. And most important — don’t bother Fushiguro-kun. I already told you about what he’s going through.”

One of the bedrooms on the second floor had its door closed permanently. With an ache in your heart, you figured that was Tsumiki’s.

Fushiguro was bothered, and you understood he was a teenager with a lot going on in his life. Unfortunately, you knew your younger sister and how annoying she could be.

Mayu tsked and groaned. “I knooow. I’m not a monster, okay?” She crossed her arms. “But if he mistreats Countess, he’ll have to deal with me.”

“I’m more worried about the demon eating his fish.”

“Ladiiiiies!”

Both you and Mayu jumped, startled.

Gojo had paper bags in his hands and a large smile. “Let’s have lunch!”

You remembered you were hungry.

He bought large bento boxes for everyone, which honestly? Very kind. Gojo insisted everyone gathered in the tatami room to eat (why he was so excited about this whole thing was still a mystery to you). Fushiguro was quiet all throughout, though this time he figured that he was just more focused on eating than talking. Gojo and Mayu didn’t shut up for a second. Even Ijichi looked a bit happier and relaxed.

You talked a bit as well, but decided to remain quiet.

You had a tatami room back in Kyoto too.

Smaller than this one, sure. But sunlight illuminated the whole place through the sliding doors as well. It always smelled of ocha because you dripped a full teapot on the floor once. You’d always gather there to eat or play board games. It was one of the things you missed the most when you left. You remember telling mom how it’d be nice to come back someday after Mayu was born. How it’d be great to dine, the four of you, in a tatami room again.

It was just you and Mayu now.

You swallowed the lump in your throat with the food.

“You done eating?” Gojo asked after a while.

“Yes.” You were brought back to reality by his voice.

“Great! C’mere, I wanna show you something.”

The two of you left the room alone. His blue slippers were fucking huge, you noted. Just like his feet. And the rest of him.

Gojo just talked again when you were outside.

“A couple things I wanna explain about the house,” he began with his usual carefree tone. “We got regular CCTV. Alarms and all. But we got sorcery security too, and since your technique nullifies anything, I want to show you where they are… so you don’t go touching stuff and releasing seals by accident.”

“Right.”

North, South, East, West — he showed you the exact places they were. Four big objects that resembled nails, hidden between the trees and bushes, wrapped in seals.

“What exactly are those?”

“A type of permanent curtain.” As if you knew what the fuck a curtain was. “Sets anyone with unauthorized cursed energy signature on fire.”

Your eyes widened. “You serious?”

“Yep.” It didn’t look like he was joking. “Also lets me know if there’s an intruder.” Gojo waved for you to follow him to the back of the house. “Something else I don’t want you to touch.”

A tree. The largest in the yard, and apparently, the oldest. He pointed to the thick trunk: near the base, you spotted a kanji engraved. The carving was old, a bit worn out with time, but you could read it; “根”. Root, literally.

“What’s that for?”

“My anchor.” Gojo scratched his cheek with his index finger. “It’s for long distance teleportation. I need anchors, you know? So, pretty please, do not get anywhere near this tree.”

The way this man talked about burning people alive and teleportation so casually was increasing your possibilities of having a stroke very fast.

He twirled in your direction again with his signature excited grin, clasping his hands together. “Also! I have a gift for you! Get excited!!” You didn’t move. His grin dropped. “If you don’t get excited, I ain’t giving it.”

Gojo was met with the biggest smile you’d opened in the past 72 hours. You clasped your hands, mimicking his own stupid pose. “Pleeease, I want to know what it is!!”

He was taken aback.

“How’d you do that?”

“Years of calming patients.” Your smile dropped as fast as it came.

“That’s scary.”

“What about the gift?”

“Oh. Right.” He smiled again and took a small velvet box from his pocket. “It’s not what it seems! I know you love me, but this isn’t a proposal yet.” You chuckled. Fuck.

Gojo opened the black box to reveal a silver bracelet. It had a thick snake chain design. Very simple, that kind of bracelet intended to be decorated with little charms.

“This is a test, in fact,” he explained whilst taking the bracelet from the box. “From what it seems, you nullify anything you touch. So I hid an anchor inside the chain; a tiny piece of paper. I want to see if it still works if it’s not in contact with your skin.”

Gojo unclasped it with ease and waited for you to offer your wrist, which you did. And then it happened again. The way he seemed to shiver when his fingers touched you, even if it was brief and featherlight.

This reaction of his was starting to make you curious.

“You want to put an anchor on me?”

“Well, of course. If anything happens and I’m not around, I’ll be able to get to you in a second. Aren’t I amazing?” He grinned cheekily. You wouldn’t boast his already huge ego, but you, in fact, thought he was amazing. Probably because you didn’t know any of this sorcery shit even existed yesterday morning. Anything he did was impressive. “Now be quiet for a moment, I need to activate it first.”

His hand moved towards the blindfold.

All of your neurons froze in place.

You hadn’t noticed how truly anxious you were to see what the hell was under there until that moment. Your body reacted first. Your heartbeat increased, you gulped. He’s taking it off! He’s taking it off!

Maybe it was stupid how, in your perception, time moved in slow motion.

How the background — the yard, the trees — blurred.

He pushed the black blindfold down with his index finger. To him, it was just an ordinary motion. Gojo wasn’t trying to show off. He clearly was someone to show off all the time, but at that moment, he wasn’t.

And yet — it felt that air was knocked off your lungs.

You weren’t expecting blue.

As blue as a summer sky. As blue as the ocean. There wasn’t a mix of gray or green; it was pure blue. Aquamarine, sapphire, topaz. The bluest you’d ever seen. A color you didn’t even know a human could naturally possess.

Long white eyelashes framed those eyes. Not having the blindfold to hinder it anymore, his white strands fell over his forehead like a charming cascade.

You were seeing him for real in that moment. And the first thing you noticed was how young he truly looked.

Albeit unexpected — shocking — those eyes were harmonious with the rest of his features. It… it made sense, in a way.

He was beautiful.

You had wondered what he’d look like without that thing. You’d come to the conclusion that there was no way he’d be ugly. But this? This hit you like a bullet train at full speed.

Some neurons passed out.

Gojo had a serene, focused expression. Not once did he look at your face; he was focused on the bracelet, holding the chain between his index and thumb, taking care to not touch your skin. You didn’t know what the hell he was doing — until you felt a strange chilling sensation on your wrist and you finally looked down. The bracelet was wrapped in a strange blue aura that almost made you jump in fright. The “aura” looked similar to that black fire from before… except, well, it was blue.

It took probably thirty seconds. The aura extinguished. Gojo stepped back and smiled.

Shit shit shit shit it looks even more infuriating without the blindfold—

“It’s working!” He chuckled and put his hands on his hips. “Damn, I’m so smart, it’s insane—”

Gojo looked at your face for the first time.

It made heat creep up your neck.

It also made his expressions look much more clear. He widened his eyes (so blue!!) as if surprised for a second. Then—

He narrowed them, his smile twisting in an evil, cocky smirk.

“You’re a pervert, Mori.”

The first thing you noticed was that it was the first time (was it?) that he called you by your name.

The second is that your nose was bleeding.

You pinched it again, immediately turning your head down. Your entire face was burning.

“Whad dhe fuck?!” You exclaimed. “Why is id happening again?!”

Gojo was laughing. Cackling, loud and clear, holding his stomach, as if that was the funniest shit he’d ever seen.

“Can’t take a look at these baby blues and you already gettin’ a nosebleed, sweetheart?!” He tilted down to meet your gaze again, and you hated hated hated hated hated how ridiculously pretty he looked like that, mocking you. “Now I’m worried about living under the same roof as you! Gotta keep my door locked at night!”

“Shud up! I deed ice!” You walked towards the house again, not without whacking his arm in the way. “I could be dying right dow and you’re here laughing!”

“What’s happening?” Mayu popped from the sliding back doors. She took a look at Gojo’s face and huffed. “Of course they’re blue.”

“I know you’re jealous, Mayu-chan.” He sent her a flying kiss and hit the stupid flower face pose like the fool he is.

You ignored everyone and ran towards the kitchen to take some tissues and put ice under your nose, scared to stain his millionaire placket flooring with your blood.

Shit.

This was going to be a long stay.

A/N: - Gege said that Gojo's teleportation needs specific conditions to work, but he never elaborated which so I decided to make up the conditions!! YAY

ALSO, if you read my other fic Aurora you'll recognize where the bracelet thing came from LOL I'm stealing ideas from my own fics and I'm NOT ASHAMED

Next chapter!! We're going back to work!! How is their routine going to be? Will Fushiguro adapt to their presence? Who the fuck is after her?? I DON'T KNOW!!

As usual, feedback is much appreciated 🙏 See you!

[kimvvantae]

Weak Point; 3

⤕ It's crazy how life can turn upside down overnight. In your case, life took a 180º turn the morning you discovered you were the weakness of the most powerful creature in the world.

From a normal citizen, you become Jujutsu Society's most coveted target. In a world where everyone wants your head on a silver platter, plagued by secrets of the past and struggling to balance what remains of your “normal” life, you are trapped in a situation you cannot escape.

And yet - amid the chaos, you slowly realize that you might be his weak point in ways that have nothing to do with sorcery.

pairing: gojo x (f) reader

genre: romance, fluff and humor, angst, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, "oh no we have to live in the same house" trope, fix-it fic (kinda)

warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (in future parts), grief, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit language, me trying to be funny

rating: 18+

word count: 9k

A/N: The fic worms are eating my brain. I had three other fics to update but I'm so excited about this one that I just wrote this ch instead lmaooo Enjoy! <3

⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

You were incapable of understanding words anymore.

That part of your brain had shut down. Your neurons were yelling and running around desperately as their workplace was on fire.

You stared at him. He stared back.

“What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart. You can come live with me.”

It still didn’t make sense. Like everything else that happened that day.

He was crouched down to your eye level. Smiling as if he had proposed something completely inside the scope of what’s considered normal. As if he had said “Let’s order pizza for dinner” instead of whatever it meant.

“Live with you?”

Gojo nodded. Still smiling. Why was he still smiling? “Yep!”

One of your neurons stopped for a moment. Processed what he said. Understood it. And then went back to yelling and running in circles.

You got up in a jump.

“Are you insane?!” Now you were walking around nervously too. Away from him. Gojo hummed and turned around, still crouching over his one kilometer legs.

“I’m pretty sane against all odds.”

“You can’t just… ask me to live with you!”

“Why not?” He pouted. One of your neurons stopped running and stared at his glossy plump lips in awe, before being pushed over by another panicked neuron. “The house’s pretty big! We got enough rooms for everybody!”

“Why not?! Well, for starters, I don’t even know you!” You crossed your arms protectively.

Gojo giggled and stood up straight. Damn, he’s tall, one of the neurons noticed again as its colleague’s head was on fire. He put his hands inside the pockets of his pants and tilted his head slightly.

“Don’t get emotional, sweetheart. I know I’m irresistible, but this isn’t a marriage proposal. I’m just saying you can come live in my house.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You pointed at him angrily. More neurons head’s caught fire. “I met you this morning. You saved me — thank you, by the way — but I don’t know what type of person you are! I don’t know anything about you, actually, besides the fact that you’re a sorcerer-teacher-whatever and that you got reeeeally sensitive eyes.” He giggled at your mocking impression of his voice. A neuron tripped over and fell flat on the floor.

Gojo hummed and shrugged. “Well. I really didn’t introduce myself.” He offered you a hand. “Name’s Gojo Satoru. Sorcerer-teacher-whatever, at your service. Extremely reliable, extremely strong, and extremely good looking — but you already noticed that.” You were under the impression he would’ve winked if that thing wasn’t covering his eyes.

You scrapped the heel of your tennis over the concrete floor nervously. “I don’t— I still don’t get why. It just sounds way too drastic and unrealistic.”

It makes you look even more like a creep is what you really wanted to say.

“I’ve explained to you already, honey boo—”

“I have a name.”

“—you’re out of options. You told granny to fuck off. You don’t wanna be a sorcerer, which, you know, understandable, but there’s still people hunting you out there, and they seem pretty keen on succeeding. There’s a big fat target over your head right now, and it won’t disappear until we get to the root of the problem. Now, you and your sister need protection.”

You scrapped your heel more nervously. One neuron was sitting in the corner, holding its chin with a pensive expression while everything else burned, muttering what he’s saying makes sense. But still — living with him? It was strange, sudden, awkward, like everything else that happened in the past ten hours or so.

In a normal setting, no one would accept to live with someone they met that morning — a really emotional lesbian would after the first date, a neuron noted, but you ignored it —, especially considering your situation. A woman with a teenage sister. Despite the looks, Gojo didn’t really feel like a creep in the worst sense of the word, but still. You barely knew him. Would you be safe around him? Would Mayu be safe?

You avoided his gaze. “I… I really don’t know—”

“Your nose is bleeding.”

Your eyes snapped up. “What?”

“I’m serious. Your nose is bleeding.”

The neuron responsible for feeling when you had a runny nose was passed out on the floor in front of the control table.

You touched the space between your nose and your lips. Your fingertips came bloody.

“What the fuck?” You mumbled quietly. More was coming. You pinched your nose and kept your lead lowered. “Shid. I deed ice.”

Maybe looking down was a bad idea, because the moment you did, the world twirled.

“Wow, wow—” And then his hand was on your arm, supporting you before you could stumble and fall. Gojo pressed his palm on your forehead gently (Damn, his hand is big, one of the neurons noticed as its colleague’s head was still on fire) and hummed. “You got a fever, too. Not good.”

Fever? Were you feverish? Well, that’d explain why you thought the breeze was kinda cold despite the hellish temperature.

“I deed paracedamol—” You muttered a second before the world twirled again — with reason this time: your legs were off the floor. Gojo had carried you bridal style swiftly as if you had no weight once more. Not a single grunt of effort.

Okay, that was hot, one neuron said, nodding. Three other neurons stopped running to watch the scene and nodded. Yeah, totally, uh-huh.

“To the infirmary we go,” he announced.

“I can sdill walk,” you tried whilst still pinching your nose.

Your stomach dropped. That feeling was familiar — he had done this, whatever it was, when he saved you. Space warped. Your brain felt like sludge inside your skull. And then—

You weren’t out in the open anymore, behind that shrine looking building. You were inside the infirmary in the blink of an eye.

A couple neurons committed suicide.

“Shoooookooo,” he sung. You tightened your eyes, bothered by the volume of his voice. It felt like hammers in your head. “You got a patient!”

He walked over to one of the hospital beds and put you sitting there with surprising care (That was hot, the group of neurons said in unison while nodding). You heard steps. There she was — doctor lady with the same tired face.

“My dose is bleeding,” you explained — and your doctor genes immediately kicked in. The will to explain everything going on with you in excruciating detail while trying to self diagnose at the same time.She hummed and took a couple of gauze; you immediately pressed it on your nose while still keeping your head down. It was a constant flow of blood. Felt horrible. “Got a god-awful headache since I woke up, too, and occasional dizziness. I feel like shit, so my blood pressure must’ve dropped. Also, huh, I think I don’t really sleep in over 30 hours now.”

“24 hour shift?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“You guys are savages, interrogating and draggin’ her around after a full shift.” She sent a judging eye towards Gojo. Finally, someone’s on my side!, you thought tiredly (Wasn’t she interrogating us too?, one neuron asked, frowning). He turned his lips downwards and put his palms up in a surrendering gesture. She pointed towards the door. “Outta my infirmary now.”

“Okaaay.” Gojo shrugged and walked out obediently.

“D’you have occasional nosebleed?” Doctor lady (Gojo said her name, right? What was her name…?) asked while offering a thermometer which you promptly put under your arm.

“No.”

She tightened her eyes. “Weird.”

You brushed the gauze under your nose for a moment before pressing it once more. “I guess I went over my exhaustion limit today.”

The thermometer beeped. She took it: 38,6º of fever. Not good.

“There’s that, too, but you got something else going on. Lay down.”

You did. It felt nice to lay down, even in the uncomfortable hospital bed.

She threw the gauze in the trash can nearby, put gloves on and made you put your arms on your sides. You thought she was going to check your vitals (she hadn’t checked your blood pressure, which was already weird), but the brunette did something else.

She put one hand over your chest and one over your stomach.

Closed her eyes for a moment. Silent. Focused.

The neurons stared at her altogether, forgetting the fire around them for a moment. What the fuck?

The hand over your stomach went up, slowly. Now both were over your chest. She opened her eyes and nodded.

“Yep. That’s it.”

You couldn’t hide your weirded out expression.

“Uh… may I ask what’s going on?”

“It’s exhaustion,” she explained absently. “But it’s also your body adjusting to the sudden burst of cursed energy.”

Some neurons had a stroke. Others went back to screaming and running.

“It’s not that uncommon. Happens when someone doesn’t use their cursed energy in a long time. Nanami had that, too, when he came back to business,” you didn’t know who the fuck Nanami was (though she muttered that last sentence more to herself than to you). “Cursed energy is like any part of your body, you know. It has to be exercised regularly. If it’s not, and then you suddenly use it to full force, you’ll get cramps.”

“I didn’t— I didn’t use it. I don’t know how.”

“Just ‘cause you don’t know how, doesn’t mean you didn’t.”

“But I—”

Wait.

Actually.

That moment, laying on the floor of the meat locker. When you “caught fire” and the papers — seals — burned.

“I think I did.” You confessed quietly. She nodded with a knowing little smile.

“Yeah. Now, let me focus…”

She closed her eyes again. Now, one palm was at the top of your head.

You still thought that was weird.

Then you felt it.

It felt cold at first, as if you had frost injected in your veins. It felt uncomfortable… until it didn’t anymore. Your body was light as if you were flowing with the calm, cold current of a crystal clear river.

The headache was gone. Your legs didn’t feel like jelly anymore. You felt the fever dissipate as if she had taken it into her bare hands and thrown away in the trash can with the bloody gauze.

No more than three minutes later, she stepped away.

“Feel better?”

You stared up at her in awe.

All the neurons had their jaws dropped.

“How— Did— Huh?!” Was all you could mutter.

She shrugged while throwing the disposable gloves in the trash can. “You can sit, but I’m not done with you yet.”

You did. Slowly. More neurons had strokes.

You’d experienced more weirdness in the past hours than in your entire life. This, however, was what truly changed your worldview.

That woman healed you in minutes with magic.

This type of thing was simply possible? It just casually exist in this world? What was the point of our profession, then? What was the point of years of med school, of hospitals? If she could heal people with her hands, why was she hidden inside this school? Why hadn’t she won a Nobel Prize? Why hadn’t she cured cancer or AIDS worldwide—?

“I know what you thinking,” she came back holding a platter with a few pills and a plastic cup filled with water. “What I just did only works for sorcerers. Normal people can’t be healed like that. So don’t freak out.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t hold back that sigh of relief. “I was freaking out.”

“Figured.” She smiled again. She pointed at the pills. “This one’s to help regulate your cursed energy circulation. This one’s to help ease your inflamed body. This one’s paracetamol. And this one will knock you out for some good hours.”

“Right.” Normal you would’ve taken your time to ask the exact name of each medicament, but you didn’t have it in you at that moment — and you’d trust the woman who healed you with her bare hands with your eyes shut. You took the first pill and swallowed it. “Thank you…”

“Ieiri Shoko at your service. Chief doctor of Jujutsu High.” She offered a kind, tired smile. Ieiri eyed your uniform and the Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital logo embroidered over the left side of your chest. “Resident?”

“Yeah.”

“How long in?”

“Two years in September. Emergency.”

“Oof. I knew it. I can spot an adrenaline junkie from miles.” You both chuckled. She leaned on the bed while you took the second pill. “Pretty hard to get accepted in the Metropolitan, eh? You must have a great resume.”

“Well. Kind of.” You shrugged absently. Having graduated at a prestigious international med school helped. Having a cardiologist father in your ear for most of your studying years helped, too. You tightened your eyes at Ieiri for a moment. She was about your age, but already a chief doctor? Even if she began med school earlier, she still wouldn’t have finished a residency yet. “Where’d you take your residency?”

“Oh, I didn’t. Just straight to business. Jujutsu High didn’t have time to wait for me.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I wasn’t planning to work with public health care anyway. My thing was always with sorcery, but I still needed a degree.”

You swallowed the paracetamol, barely containing your excitement. “So… what did you do to me exactly?”

“Reverse cursed energy.” She said flatly. Yeah, that explains everything. Ieiri sighed. “Cursed energy is negative energy, so in order to heal, you have to multiply it over itself to create positive energy…”

It felt that your headache was coming back. All of your neurons had gathered on a strike, holding plates and pitchforks, shouting angrily at you: WE WANT TO REST!! NO MORE SORCERY BULLSHIT!!

You scowled and scratched your head.

“I think I took too much info for a day. Promise I’ll come bother you any other time to try to understand what the hell you’re saying.” Ieiri let a tired chuckle.

“Yeah, you have a ton of things to try to understand. Like why no one suspected you had cursed energy before, and why it manifested all of sudden.” She tightened her eyes at you, and for a moment, you felt like a lab rat being thoroughly analyzed. “I could run some tests on you to find out if you have a pathological condition of some sort…”

“Right.” I’m not so sure about that.

“So. Like I said, this pill will knock you out. You need a place to sleep. Are you staying in the school?”

This made you remember the other problem you were dealing with.

“Hm… I was told me and my sister could spend the night here. But after that…”

You eyed Ieiri.

She obviously knew Gojo, though you didn’t know how close they were. Still better than nothing. A woman, on top of that, to give you some solid opinions.

“Gojo explained we can’t stay here much longer.” You began, paying close attention to her reactions. “So… he offered us his house for the time being.”

She widened her eyes slightly.

“He did?” You nodded. Ieiri shrugged. “It’s a good option.”

That took you by surprise.

You frowned and leaned towards her slightly. “Is it, really?” You dropped your voice, scared he was still out there, listening. “I mean— I don’t know him at all. I don’t even understand why he’d propose this in the first place.”

“I bet he feels responsible.”

“Why would he feel responsible? He’s got nothing to do with it.” You crossed your arms. “We met this morning. Do you sorcerers feel responsible like this over everybody?”

It was Ieiri’s turn to frown. “He’s got everything to do with it. You can pierce his Infinity. I’d place all my bets that that’s the reason why they put a reward on your head in the first place.” At your utter confused expression, she sighed. “Sorry. I forgot you don’t know… it’s so weird to meet someone that doesn’t.” She placed the platter over the bed beside you and crossed her arms. “Look. If he offered you this, it means you’re not joining Jujutsu High. So this is your best chance. Gojo might be an idiot, but he’s not a creep. And he’s pretty dependable despite everything.”

You intertwined your fingers over your lap. “He said the school is the safest place in the world for me and my sister.”

“The safest place in the world is anywhere he’s at.”

That took you by surprise.

Ieiri didn’t look like the type of person who would say that about anyone.

It made you wonder: who exactly was Gojo Satoru?

She sighed again and took the platter. “You had enough for today. Here, take the pill. You need to sleep right now or you’ll get another fever.”

“But… you said it’d knock me out—”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. No one will hurt you here.”

A part of you didn’t want to. You wanted answers. You wanted to find out everything weird and wrong about you, the people after you, your mother, your technique— and you wanted everything at that moment.

But you truly had enough for a day.

So you took the pill — even though you didn’t expect it’d actually knock you out two minutes after you swallowed it.

It led you to a deep, dreamless, well deserved sleep.

All your neurons celebrated.

Mayu had her leg over you.

She always did, ever since she was 4 and would crawl up your bed in the middle of the night because she had a nightmare. It didn’t bother you back then, but she was big now. You could bet she’d be taller than you before the year ended. And you were both laying on a single bed. She was almost pushing you off the bed, actually.

There was a mattress on the floor. You wondered if they’d offered her a different room, but she asked to sleep with you anyway. She must’ve crawled up the bed the same way she did when she was four.

This made your heart ache.

Mayu just acted nonchalant. She was also scared of what happened to your home.

After long minutes of contemplating the ceiling, you sighed and got off the bed slowly to not wake her up (not that it was hard — a bomb could drop over her head and she would not wake up). You sat on the mattress with your legs crossed and let the gears in your mind fully turn. After sleeping so much, the gears were polished with machine oil and were turning smoothly. The neurons had swept the floor, mopped it with an aromatic detergent that smelled of lemon. The control room was pristine clean.

Which didn’t mean you were okay, of course. Just more rational.

You both were inside a simple, yet spacious dorm room. Sunlight entered through a breach on the curtains, birds chirped a relaxing melody. Your phone lit up with life again as you put it on the charger: the screen showed, 6:21, July 19th, Sunday. The notification bar was overloaded with even more texts and missed calls. You ignored everyone.

You had many decisions to make. Life-changing ones. And many topics to discuss. But you also smelled of unwashed ass and your panties were way past the expiration date, so a shower had to come first.

You hooked your backpack on your shoulder and left the room quietly.

At first, you hoped to find someone to give you directions, but the entirety of the dorm building was empty. Sure, it was still six in the morning of a Sunday, yet the fact that you couldn’t hear a sound was weird. If the whole place wasn’t pristine clean, you’d think it was abandoned. Regardless, it wasn’t hard to find the communal bathroom — again, empty.

You only remembered you hadn’t brought shampoo or hair conditioner when your head was already under the shower (first little inconvenience of the day). Then you checked the clothes you shoved absently inside the backpack: jeans pants and that grey oversized t-shirt with a giant Godzilla printed on — Ren’s t-shirt. The problem isn’t that the shirt was Ren’s, but that you knew it’d get super hot later and that wearing the shirt felt the same as wrapping yourself in a thermal blanket (second little inconvenience of the day). You didn’t even dare trying to untangle your hair in that state, so you just tied it into a bun, wet and all. You were an expert in buns. Your scalp cried a little every day.

You needed to eat. You also needed to smoke. You didn’t know if it was allowed to smoke inside the campus. Well, this place is dead empty, you thought. You lightened up a cigarette behind the dorm building in a pretty hidden spot, away from the windows. There’s no way anyone will see if I smoke a little.

Beeeeep. Wrong.

“Smokin’ ain’t allowed here, miss.”

You shrieked and almost dropped the cigarette.

A familiar mop of white hair was peeking at you from the corner.

Gojo approached with his already usual relaxed demeanor. Hands in the pockets of his jacket and all. Had he even slept?

Shit. I didn’t expect to meet him so early. I didn’t even really think about what I’ll tell him.

“My bad, I didn’t know.” You didn’t let go of the cigarette, however. You doubted he actually cared. You bowed your head in a small greeting. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’. Feel better?” He leaned his back on the wall beside you.

“Yes.”

“Shoko’s sleeping pills knocked you out, huh? You were acting funny, walking to the dorm. Bet you were already asleep.”

Oh. You didn’t even remember walking to the bedroom in the first place. “Yeah. I slept very well. I’ll see if she can give me a pack later.”

Gojo chuckled. “Careful with that! I slept, like, three days straight once because of these. She had to forcefully wake my brain ‘cause she was scared I was gonna die.”

You blew smoke, moving your face away from him (though the breeze was blowing in the opposite direction already. That’s why he chose that spot?) and a bit of a strange silence settled. You were nervous. You’d been nervous since you woke up.

You cleaned your throat. “I haven’t properly thanked you yet, have I?”

Gojo clicked his tongue and smiled handsomely. “Don’t mention it.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“No, you saved my life. I can’t not thank you.”

“It’s fine, really! That was any other day in the life of the great Gojo Satoru. No big deal for me.” He shrugged.

“Was a big deal for me.”

He hummed for a moment before opening a grin that made him look like an evil gremlin. “Okay, then. Show me your deep polite bow and your proper thank you.”

You stared at him with a blank expression.

You turned your head and blew more smoke. “Thanks.”

He gasped. “That’s your ‘proper thank you’?!”

“No, but you pissed me off.”

Gojo pouted and whined like a literal child who was denied something. “That’s not niiice. You put my expectations up there!”

He’s kinda funny, one half-asleep neuron noted. The colleague beside him nodded. You took another puff and told them to shut up.

“I talked to Ieiri-san yesterday,” you began in a quiet tone after a few beats of silence, blowing more smoke. “I said I didn’t understand why you’d feel responsible over me if you had nothing to do with it. She said you had everything to do with it.” You eyed him again, quirking one eyebrow up.

Gojo crossed his arms and whined again. His lips turned downwards. “D’you really wanna talk about that now? It’s six in the morning, man. My brain ain’t even really on yet.”

“Yes.” You said flatly.

He whined like an old man now. So he whines like a child when he’s disappointed and like an old man when he’s doing something he doesn’t want to. The neuron rapidly scribbled this information in its notebook.

“To put it simply,” he said while holding his chin. “Your technique completely nullifies mine. And that’s a problem.”

“A problem to who exactly…?”

“To me. Duh. And to everybody else in extent.” He smirked cheekily. “I’m pretty important, you know? Lots and lots of guys tryin’ to take me down.”

One more puff. You tightened your eyes at him. You did see Gojo blow up a ceiling, fly, freaking teleport, twist limbs at will. Shoko stated you’d be safe with him. The kidnappers looked scared of him. But still — it didn’t make that much sense why you would be targeted.

“Who are ‘guys’?” You blew more smoke. “D’you go around pissing everyone off?”

“Yep. Pissing people off is what I’m best at.” He shrugged. He did look proud of himself.

“Doesn’t sound like appropriate behavior for a teacher. What kinda role model is that?”

“A doctor smoking, what kinda role model is that?”

Gojo cackled unabashedly at your angry scowl. A couple of neurons giggled with him. You told them to shut up.

“Okay. So my technique is Extinguishment.” You began, gesticulating with the cigarette still between your fingers. “And it works against yours.” He nodded. “D’you offer everyone who can counter your technique housing and protection?”

He cackled again. “Hah, of course not. No one can counter my technique, sweetheart. Well. Except you.”

You stared at him in silence again.

It didn’t look like he was joking.

You pushed yourself off the wall to face him. “No one?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’ve been in the business for long enough to be sure.”

One more puff. The cigarette was almost finished. “Okay. But even if I have this thing, I don’t know how to use it. How’s it gonna work against you?” You exhaled more smoke. “Even better question: why would I make it work against you? You seem pretty chill despite everything. I wouldn’t wanna take you down, or whatever.”

Gojo clasped his hands together and tilted his head to the side. “Awww. I’m pretty chill? That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle this time whilst rolling your eyes. “Answer the question.”

He put his clasped hands over his stomach. Gojo was still smiling, but his tone got a bit more serious. “There are curse users with mind controlling techniques. There are ways to copy or steal a technique as well. Or they could simply make you work for them through torture.” He shrugged. “They wouldn’t be so scandalous with your kidnapping if they weren’t sure they’d make good use of it. So everything leads me to believe they know how to… and if they get a chance, they will.”

A chill ran up and down your spine.

The few minutes you spent conscious in that meat locker. The way katana man pulled you by the hair and was about to slap you, or punch you, by the movement of his hand, a second before Gojo burst through the ceiling.

Gojo pushed himself off the wall as well and shoved his hands inside the pockets of the jacket again. He kicked a pebble away absently.

“Orrrr they want you to break some seal, free some curse. These are possibilities too. Who knows?” He shrugged once more. “The dudes haven’t opened their mouths yet, but I doubt they’re the only ones after you, or the only ones whoever’s really after you sent. To summarize: you’re in real trouble, sweetheart.”

“I have a name.” You whined again through gritted teeth, though this barely bothered you given the gravity of what he just said. “The three kidnappers are alive?”

“For now.” Another chill ran down your spine.

You hadn’t really really grasped the concept of the ‘why me’ part. Now it was loud and fucking clear. The people after you were willing to torture you to get what they wanted. Went as far as invading your home. They probably already knew about Mayu or even Aunt Junko at this point. The mere thought made your shiver yet again.

Ieiri’s words echoed in your mind.

The safest place in the world is anywhere he’s at.

The last puff. You savored the smoke in your tongue before blowing it. Your head went down when you started to walk in circles again.

“So— how’s this gonna work? You said you were okay with me keeping my residency, but— what if they pop up in the hospital again? What happens if they take me on the way to work? I— I don’t have a fixed schedule. I take weekly 24 hour shifts, I work extra, my days off are random, I—”

He leaned down to your eye level.

Quickly. You didn’t even notice him approaching.

The words got caught in your throat.

“Sooo you’re coming with me?” Why did he sound excited?

“Well, yeah? You said yourself that I don’t have other options.” Uh. That sounded kind of rude. You cleaned your throat. “I mean— thank you for even offering in the first place. I hope it won’t cause you any trouble—”

He fisted the air and leaned away.

“Yayyyy! This is gonna be soo fun!”

You were baffled.

“You just said there’s people wanting to torture me. What’s funny about this?”

“Tsk. Details!”

“What about what I just said? About my work schedule—?”

“One step at a time, sweetheart! Let’s wake Megumi and Mayu-chan—”

He was turning around already — and you wouldn’t reach him fast with his one kilometer legs — so you touched his arm on instinct. “Wait—”

Gojo flinched.

Like a cat.

He turned around in a jump. If it weren’t for the blindfold, you were sure he’d have his eyes widened.

There was something a bit uncanny in seeing a man that big getting scared so easily.

You retracted your arm. Gojo himself seemed a bit taken aback by his own reaction. Or you thought so, that fucking blindfold made it difficult to read him.

“Uh…” Don’t make it awkward, you told yourself. “Mayu. I don’t know what to tell her.”

Gojo recovered much faster than you. He was grinning again. “Don’t worry, sweetheart! I have it all planned out!” And then he turned around again.

“I have a name!”

You found out Fushiguro lived with Gojo the same moment he found out you were going to live with them.

So Gojo is his legal guardian. Now Fushiguro’s involvement with the whole thing made sense. It also felt like a very weird coincidence.

Well.

Fushiguro wasn’t happy with it.

Probably because Gojo banged on his door at six in the morning. Mayu was barely awake, holding the fat demon in her arms.

“We’re all gonna live together!” He chirped to the other barely awake teenager.

The two of them really woke up at the moment.

“What?!” Fushiguro exclaimed. You’d never seen him talk this loud.

“Why?!” Mayu exclaimed. That wasn’t the loudest she could get. You were mildly disappointed.

Gojo pointed at Fushiguro. “You know why.” Gojo pointed at Mayu. “You’re both on witness protection service now.”

Mayu tightened her eyes at you. “What did you do?”

“That’s your reaction?” You were mildly offended.

“Nuh-huh, no questions, Mayu-chan! Your sister’s case is under judicial secrecy!”

“For how long?” Fushiguro looked either about to vomit or jump out the window again.

“Until her case’s settled!” Gojo put both hands together close to his face in somewhat of a praying pose. “C’moooon, Megumi! It’s gonna be fun!”

No one was having fun. Not even you. Knowing there were, you know. People trying to torture you and all.

Countess meowed one of her old lady raspy meows.

Gojo pointed at the demon and looked at you. “This is how you gonna sound in five years if you don’t quit smokin’.”

“Countess is hungry.” Mayu said, ignoring Gojo and the way you glared at him.

“The cat’s coming too?” Fushiguro asked in a constipated voice. He looked constipated. Or about to vomit. Or about to jump out the window.

Mayu’s head whipped in his direction at the speed of light. “Of course she’s coming. Got a problem with that?”

“Yes, I got a problem with that. I don’t like cats.”

Mayu looked about to bite his face off. Fushiguro looked about to square up. Or about to vomit. Or about to jump out the window.

Gojo slapped the back of his head, making him go ouch!. “Be nice, Megumi! Of course the cat’s coming. They can’t abandon her on the street.”

“I’m not gonna clean cat poop.” He crossed his arms like a child.

“No one’s asking you to clean her poop, jackass—”

You elbowed her side. She winced. Countess hissed. “Don’t talk to him like that.”

Gojo clapped his hands. “Great! Let’s move! We got a lot to do!”

You all swallowed breakfast and in half an hour were squeezed in the car. Again.

Fushiguro had earphones on now, angrily staring out the window with such intensity that he might be able to break the glass with the power of his mind. Mayu was half asleep. You were, again, in the middle, like a child. The driver— (Ijichi, Ijichi, Ijichi, his name’s Ijichi) looked pretty disposed against all odds. Of course he was a morning person. Gojo had the decency to not pump loud music, at least.

Mayu widened her eyes all of sudden and turned to you. “What about my date?!”

“What?”

“My date with Kiku on Wednesday. What about my date?!”

“This is what you’re worried about?” You might be able to blow her brain with the power of your mind at that moment. “We’re both on witness protection service and that’s what you’re worried about?”

Gojo sighed. “Mayu-chan knows what’s good. Priorities!”

“Mind your business, will you?” You punched the back of his seat. He giggled.

“That’s a valid question!” Mayu tried to defend herself.

You rolled your eyes and sunk on the seat, deciding to simply not deal with her at that moment. It was time to answer the tons of messages. Remi was calling you very bad names. Some colleagues showed polite worry. You boss — fuck, what would you tell your boss?! — texted, too. And Aunt Junko—

“Oh, my God. D’you talk to Aunt Junko?” You asked while dialing her number and gluing the phone to your ear.

“Yeah, but you know how she is.”

Shit shit shit. How could you leave the hypertensive 64 year old unanswered?!

“Hi? Good morning, Auntie!” She picked up on the second ring, which made your heart tighten with guilt. “Yeah, I’m so sorry. My phone— my phone died and I couldn’t call you. No, I’m fine! Oh, you saw— you saw on TV? Yeah. Yeah, there was an accident. It’s fine. I wasn’t— I wasn’t injured or anything. It’s fine. No, Auntie— the hospital didn’t blow up. It was a small explosion. Yeah, I still have my job.” Or at least you hoped so. “Yeah. How about you? Are you okay? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for worrying you. Yeah, Mayu’s fine. She’s right here. She’s—”

You paused.

Slowly, you turned to her, your face hardening like stone.

She shrunk.

“Oh. She did?” Mayu avoided your gaze. “Oooh. That’s great to hear. Thanks for telling me.”

Gojo chuckled quietly.

“I’ll call you later, ‘kay, Auntie? Promise I’ll have dinner with you soon. Yeah. God bless you, too. Bye.”

You slammed your forearm against her neck and pressed her head on the window.

“You went to Shinjuku!”

Fushiguro jumped. Ijichi shrieked.

“Stop that!” Mayu tried, frightened.

“You little shit, you went to the festival behind my back! You lied to me! You lied to Aunt!”

“I didn’t— I wasn’t—”

“Oh, so what’s your excuse gonna be?!”

Mayu gulped. “She’s bullying me! Help!”

Gojo chuckled. Fushiguro tried his best to pretend to not be interested. Ijichi shrieked.

“Did you drink? Did you drink?!”

“No!” You kept staring. “Okay— maybe I took a sip from a friend—”

“You took a sip?!” You huffed and threw your arms up. “You are fourteen years old!”

“Don’t act like you never did it when you were my age!” She crossed her arms defensively. “Didn’t you do it too when you were my age, Mr. Blindfold?”

Gojo shook his head vehemently. “Leave me out of this, Mayu-chan!”

“The sip you took could’ve been from a spiked drink! You don’t drink from other’s people’s cups! You’re being an idiot, and I didn’t teach you to be an idiot!” You swiftly took her phone from her hand.

“Hey!”

“That’s for lying to me, Mayuka.”

Gojo hissed. “Called by the government name. It got serious.”

It was her turn to punch the back of his seat. “Mind your business!”

Gojo giggled.

What a beautiful start of your day.

A little bit before eight, you got to your apartment.

You had to file a police report, obviously, due to the break-in. Gojo found a way to fasten the process. Gojo also had already hired a moving company (you wondered what he’d do if you had said no, as that was obviously arranged before you complied). Regardless, there were already boxes and three guys to help take all the stuff downstairs.

The work started.

The apartment was a mess. Some things were broken beyond repair. It was a bit depressing to see that expensive blender broken on the kitchen’s floor, or that full body mirror shattered (why are mirrors so freaking expensive?), or that limited edition Flower Knows eyeshadow palette destroyed on your bedroom’s floor (that made a couple of neurons hold a formal funeral in the corner). Yet, you decided to push the auto-pilot lever up, because if you stopped for a second to think about why everything was happening, you’d feel actually sad. And you couldn’t be sad. That’s what highly functional adults do — they repress every bit of feeling in order to work.

Right?

You were frenetic, walking around the apartment and giving orders like a general. Put the clothes in the suitcases and the black bags. No, this is trash. Please, careful with that. Put the kitchen utensils right here. Mayu, write in these boxes. I think there’s a sharpie in the kitchen. No, the second drawer. I can take these, it’s fine. Thank you, Ijichi.

Despite the grimace, Fushiguro showed to be very helpful, carrying boxes with little to no effort. Ijichi struggled much more, but was very willing to help nevertheless. The only one not helping much was the white-haired bastard. You’d catch him leaning on places, scrolling down his phone, emptying your freaking fridge—

“You don’t need to take all the furniture, sweetheart. Our house is pretty well equipped.”

He looked (“looked”) up from his phone to meet your angry gaze. Your forehead was sweaty, you had pushed the sleeves of the t-shirt up (thermal blanket), you wanted to slap him.

“I have a name.”

“The more you complain about it, the less I feel like calling you by your name, sweetheart.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I thought I was pretty chill.” He pouted dramatically. Some neurons giggled. You rolled your eyes and took another box in your arms. “You got decent stamina for a smoker. I thought you’d be coughing your lungs out already.”

“I exercise regularly.” Okay. Maybe regularly was a stretch. Your work schedule didn’t allow you to do anything regularly. But yeah, you could jog a few respectable kilometers without passing out. “What’d you want me to do about my furniture? I can’t throw it all away. It’s not like we’ll live there forever.”

“One step at a tiiiime. We can figure it out later. Now, just pack what matters the most. Also, your car— it’s gotta go.”

You put the box on the floor again.

“Why my car?!”

“’Cause they much obviously already got the license plate. Duh. It’ll be like driving around a carnival car with giant neon arrows pointing at you like I’m here!! Pleeease kidnap me!!”

Your shoulders dropped and you sighed in defeat. You didn’t want to. That car was an achievement. You got it less than a year ago. It didn’t matter that it was a second-hand (third-hand? Fourth-hand?) 2010 Alto, it was still your car and you liked it.

Gojo grumbled quietly. You looked up to him again.

“Or you can just keep it hidden in the garage, I guess.” He scratched the back of his head.

A smile immediately crept up your lips. “Thanks.”

He smiled back.

A few neurons giggled.

You crouched to take the box again. “If you’re not gonna help, at least don’t stand in the way, sweetheart.”

Gojo huffed. “How am I not helping? I’m doing security full time!”

It was past three in the afternoon when everything essential got packed and inside the back of the truck. You hadn’t had lunch yet, but you were so worked up that your stomach hadn’t complained yet.

Especially — most of your bodily functions were brushed aside the moment you parked in front of the place you’d live in for the foreseeable future.

Look.

In Tokyo, space equals wealth.

It’s a crumpled city. Too many people, too little space. Cars are small, apartments are small, trains are packed, traffic is heavy. The simple fact that you found a two bedroom apartment close to a subway station was already a miracle (an expensive miracle), and in all honesty, it wasn’t even that tiny. Your salary wasn’t the highest it could get yet as you were still a resident, but it couldn’t be considered bad (and luckily, you were paid extra to work those 24 hour shifts, which boosted your income. Not all hospitals were willing to pay for it). Nevertheless, you were aware of how much that apartment cost you.

So when you realized that the car was getting into Meguro of all places, your stomach dropped.

You and Mayu stood side by side on the sidewalk. Both speechless.

“There’s a yard,” she noted.

“Yes.”

“And trees.”

“Yes.”

“And two floors.”

“Yes.”

She looked at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me Blindfold-san was rich?”

You gulped. “I didn’t know, either.”

Because owning a house like that could only mean wealth.

The house was surrounded by walls high enough to prevent passersby to see anything inside; the trees in the property made it even more impossible. It didn’t look like a new construction — not in a “it’s an old house” way, but in a generational wealth way. It had that traditional slanted tiled roof and shoji-style windows that could only mean oh, my peepaw built this house back in the sixties when he founded the family’s enterprises.

There was a dark marble plate above the mail box with a very elegant “五条” carved on it.

Jesus.

You crossed the opening gates. The front yard had the greenest grass you’d ever seen, a stone trail leading to the entrance of the house, and on your left—

“A koi pond,” Mayu gasped quietly. “A freaking koi pond.”

“I saw it, Mayu.” You gasped quietly back.

Surprisingly, the inside didn’t look like a sterile Instagram house, neither it had over the top decoration. It looked like a lived in house. And yet, the luxury was there: it was quiet, in the way the furniture was made of ebony (again — it didn’t look like it was bought recently; it had been there for a while, as high quality materials like that are also generational), the small indoor garden, the very well equipped and large kitchen. The living room was huge. It had a freaking sofa pit (that seemed a bit more recent) with the biggest fucking TV you’d ever seen. It also had the biggest DVD collection you’d ever seen. Mayu gagged at the amount of game consoles on the TV stand.

The house had five bedrooms total. Three bathrooms. One of the bedrooms was on the first floor; they were using it as some sort of storage room, so it had a lot of stuff inside. The rest was up there. The rooms had tatami floor, large windows, built-in wardrobes…

You were impressed and a bit intimidated, to say the least.

And to remember I was worried about Fushiguro back then. He’s much better off than me.

While you were taking boxes out of the truck, you pulled Mayu when you finally got some time alone.

“Mayu. Listen.” You began in a hushed voice. “This is not our house, okay? So don’t be messy. If you break something, I will break your neck. And most important — don’t bother Fushiguro-kun. I already told you about what he’s going through.”

One of the bedrooms on the second floor had its door closed permanently. With an ache in your heart, you figured that was Tsumiki’s.

Fushiguro was bothered, and you understood he was a teenager with a lot going on in his life. Unfortunately, you knew your younger sister and how annoying she could be.

Mayu tsked and groaned. “I knooow. I’m not a monster, okay?” She crossed her arms. “But if he mistreats Countess, he’ll have to deal with me.”

“I’m more worried about the demon eating his fish.”

“Ladiiiiies!”

Both you and Mayu jumped, startled.

Gojo had paper bags in his hands and a large smile. “Let’s have lunch!”

You remembered you were hungry.

He bought large bento boxes for everyone, which honestly? Very kind. Gojo insisted everyone gathered in the tatami room to eat (why he was so excited about this whole thing was still a mystery to you). Fushiguro was quiet all throughout, though this time he figured that he was just more focused on eating than talking. Gojo and Mayu didn’t shut up for a second. Even Ijichi looked a bit happier and relaxed.

You talked a bit as well, but decided to remain quiet.

You had a tatami room back in Kyoto too.

Smaller than this one, sure. But sunlight illuminated the whole place through the sliding doors as well. It always smelled of ocha because you dripped a full teapot on the floor once. You’d always gather there to eat or play board games. It was one of the things you missed the most when you left. You remember telling mom how it’d be nice to come back someday after Mayu was born. How it’d be great to dine, the four of you, in a tatami room again.

It was just you and Mayu now.

You swallowed the lump in your throat with the food.

“You done eating?” Gojo asked after a while.

“Yes.” You were brought back to reality by his voice.

“Great! C’mere, I wanna show you something.”

The two of you left the room alone. His blue slippers were fucking huge, you noted. Just like his feet. And the rest of him.

Gojo just talked again when you were outside.

“A couple things I wanna explain about the house,” he began with his usual carefree tone. “We got regular CCTV. Alarms and all. But we got sorcery security too, and since your technique nullifies anything, I want to show you where they are… so you don’t go touching stuff and releasing seals by accident.”

“Right.”

North, South, East, West — he showed you the exact places they were. Four big objects that resembled nails, hidden between the trees and bushes, wrapped in seals.

“What exactly are those?”

“A type of permanent curtain.” As if you knew what the fuck a curtain was. “Sets anyone with unauthorized cursed energy signature on fire.”

Your eyes widened. “You serious?”

“Yep.” It didn’t look like he was joking. “Also lets me know if there’s an intruder.” Gojo waved for you to follow him to the back of the house. “Something else I don’t want you to touch.”

A tree. The largest in the yard, and apparently, the oldest. He pointed to the thick trunk: near the base, you spotted a kanji engraved. The carving was old, a bit worn out with time, but you could read it; “根”. Root, literally.

“What’s that for?”

“My anchor.” Gojo scratched his cheek with his index finger. “It’s for long distance teleportation. I need anchors, you know? So, pretty please, do not get anywhere near this tree.”

The way this man talked about burning people alive and teleportation so casually was increasing your possibilities of having a stroke very fast.

He twirled in your direction again with his signature excited grin, clasping his hands together. “Also! I have a gift for you! Get excited!!” You didn’t move. His grin dropped. “If you don’t get excited, I ain’t giving it.”

Gojo was met with the biggest smile you’d opened in the past 72 hours. You clasped your hands, mimicking his own stupid pose. “Pleeease, I want to know what it is!!”

He was taken aback.

“How’d you do that?”

“Years of calming patients.” Your smile dropped as fast as it came.

“That’s scary.”

“What about the gift?”

“Oh. Right.” He smiled again and took a small velvet box from his pocket. “It’s not what it seems! I know you love me, but this isn’t a proposal yet.” You chuckled. Fuck.

Gojo opened the black box to reveal a silver bracelet. It had a thick snake chain design. Very simple, that kind of bracelet intended to be decorated with little charms.

“This is a test, in fact,” he explained whilst taking the bracelet from the box. “From what it seems, you nullify anything you touch. So I hid an anchor inside the chain; a tiny piece of paper. I want to see if it still works if it’s not in contact with your skin.”

Gojo unclasped it with ease and waited for you to offer your wrist, which you did. And then it happened again. The way he seemed to shiver when his fingers touched you, even if it was brief and featherlight.

This reaction of his was starting to make you curious.

“You want to put an anchor on me?”

“Well, of course. If anything happens and I’m not around, I’ll be able to get to you in a second. Aren’t I amazing?” He grinned cheekily. You wouldn’t boast his already huge ego, but you, in fact, thought he was amazing. Probably because you didn’t know any of this sorcery shit even existed yesterday morning. Anything he did was impressive. “Now be quiet for a moment, I need to activate it first.”

His hand moved towards the blindfold.

All of your neurons froze in place.

You hadn’t noticed how truly anxious you were to see what the hell was under there until that moment. Your body reacted first. Your heartbeat increased, you gulped. He’s taking it off! He’s taking it off!

Maybe it was stupid how, in your perception, time moved in slow motion.

How the background — the yard, the trees — blurred.

He pushed the black blindfold down with his index finger. To him, it was just an ordinary motion. Gojo wasn’t trying to show off. He clearly was someone to show off all the time, but at that moment, he wasn’t.

And yet — it felt that air was knocked off your lungs.

You weren’t expecting blue.

As blue as a summer sky. As blue as the ocean. There wasn’t a mix of gray or green; it was pure blue. Aquamarine, sapphire, topaz. The bluest you’d ever seen. A color you didn’t even know a human could naturally possess.

Long white eyelashes framed those eyes. Not having the blindfold to hinder it anymore, his white strands fell over his forehead like a charming cascade.

You were seeing him for real in that moment. And the first thing you noticed was how young he truly looked.

Albeit unexpected — shocking — those eyes were harmonious with the rest of his features. It… it made sense, in a way.

He was beautiful.

You had wondered what he’d look like without that thing. You’d come to the conclusion that there was no way he’d be ugly. But this? This hit you like a bullet train at full speed.

Some neurons passed out.

Gojo had a serene, focused expression. Not once did he look at your face; he was focused on the bracelet, holding the chain between his index and thumb, taking care to not touch your skin. You didn’t know what the hell he was doing — until you felt a strange chilling sensation on your wrist and you finally looked down. The bracelet was wrapped in a strange blue aura that almost made you jump in fright. The “aura” looked similar to that black fire from before… except, well, it was blue.

It took probably thirty seconds. The aura extinguished. Gojo stepped back and smiled.

Shit shit shit shit it looks even more infuriating without the blindfold—

“It’s working!” He chuckled and put his hands on his hips. “Damn, I’m so smart, it’s insane—”

Gojo looked at your face for the first time.

It made heat creep up your neck.

It also made his expressions look much more clear. He widened his eyes (so blue!!) as if surprised for a second. Then—

He narrowed them, his smile twisting in an evil, cocky smirk.

“You’re a pervert, Mori.”

The first thing you noticed was that it was the first time (was it?) that he called you by your name.

The second is that your nose was bleeding.

You pinched it again, immediately turning your head down. Your entire face was burning.

“Whad dhe fuck?!” You exclaimed. “Why is id happening again?!”

Gojo was laughing. Cackling, loud and clear, holding his stomach, as if that was the funniest shit he’d ever seen.

“Can’t take a look at these baby blues and you already gettin’ a nosebleed, sweetheart?!” He tilted down to meet your gaze again, and you hated hated hated hated hated how ridiculously pretty he looked like that, mocking you. “Now I’m worried about living under the same roof as you! Gotta keep my door locked at night!”

“Shud up! I deed ice!” You walked towards the house again, not without whacking his arm in the way. “I could be dying right dow and you’re here laughing!”

“What’s happening?” Mayu popped from the sliding back doors. She took a look at Gojo’s face and huffed. “Of course they’re blue.”

“I know you’re jealous, Mayu-chan.” He sent her a flying kiss and hit the stupid flower face pose like the fool he is.

You ignored everyone and ran towards the kitchen to take some tissues and put ice under your nose, scared to stain his millionaire placket flooring with your blood.

Shit.

This was going to be a long stay.

A/N: - Gege said that Gojo's teleportation needs specific conditions to work, but he never elaborated which so I decided to make up the conditions!! YAY

ALSO, if you read my other fic Aurora you'll recognize where the bracelet thing came from LOL I'm stealing ideas from my own fics and I'm NOT ASHAMED

Next chapter!! We're going back to work!! How is their routine going to be? Will Fushiguro adapt to their presence? Who the fuck is after her?? I DON'T KNOW!!

As usual, feedback is much appreciated 🙏 See you!

[kimvvantae]

Weak Point; 2

⤕ It's crazy how life can turn upside down overnight. In your case, life took a 180º turn the morning you discovered you were the weakness of the most powerful creature in the world.

From a normal citizen, you become Jujutsu Society's most coveted target. In a world where everyone wants your head on a silver platter, plagued by secrets of the past and struggling to balance what remains of your “normal” life, you are trapped in a situation you cannot escape.

And yet - amid the chaos, you slowly realize that you might be his weak point in ways that have nothing to do with sorcery.

pairing: gojo x (f) reader

genre: romance, fluff and humor, angst, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, "oh no we have to live in the same house" trope, fix-it fic (kinda)

warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (in future parts), grief, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit language, me trying to be funny

rating: 18+

word count: 11k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!! Here we are for one more chapter!! Thank you so much for the comments on the 1st ch, they always make my day!! Enjoy <3

⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

Girl, I had the weirdest dream tonight.

Yeah, so, I dreamed that I was working, right? And then I killed a mutant rat. Yeah, stepped on it. Pretty gross. Then out of sudden I woke up inside a meat locker, mummified – no, like, I didn’t jump any parts, I was kidnapped from the hospital and woke up there. No, I don’t know how that happened. Why mummified? There were paper tags all over my body, and I couldn’t move… it kinda felt like sleep paralysis. But then my body caught fire, like… spontaneous combustion, but I didn’t die, just the papers caught fire, and then I could move again… and some ugly guys showed up. But that’s not even the weirdest part – a guy popped up out of nowhere, literally floating, exploded the ceiling, dragged me around like a ragdoll, killed the other guys (he was blindfolded for some fucking reason, did I mention that?), and his hair was white–

The first thing you saw as soon as you opened your eyes was a mop of white hair.

That was enough to make you freak out.

You sat up abruptly – which made you dizzy and you almost fell when you jumped off the bed (a hospital bed? What?), and you probably squealed a little too, drawing a lot of attention to yourself.

“Hey, hey, hey! Calm down!” And then there was someone holding your arm – you hadn’t noticed someone was so close, which made you get startled again. A brunette woman. You didn’t look at her for too long, though, your eyes scanning the area frantically.

“You are safe here, Mori-san.” A familiar voice rushed to say.

Your eyes landed on… uh… oh, thank God, he still had the identification sticker glued to his chest (remembering names really is not a doctor’s forte), standing a few steps away from you. His eyes were round, a bit worried, and he had his palms up in an appeasing gesture.

Maybe the fact that the fourteen year old was trying to calm you down brought you back to your senses (due to the sheer embarrassment of it).

You straightened your back and cleared your throat.

You were in some sort of infirmary, though judging by the silence, it was not inside a hospital. It was small and well equipped. There weren’t any other patients occupying the three other beds. Besides Fushiguro (what the hell was he doing here?!), the brunette woman (a doctor. Why would she be wearing a white coat if she wasn’t one?), there was a buff middle-aged guy whose eyes were hidden behind sunglasses (he was quite intimidating) who got up when you woke up, and–

And–

Albino Jesus, sitting on a chair against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked exactly the same: blindfold, hair spiked up, an oversized zip-up jacket with a high collar, pants in the same dark blue color and dress boots. Maybe he was looking at you. You couldn’t tell.

“...It was real. Fuck, it was real.” You mumbled in a fragile voice.

He shrugged and grinned for some fucking reason.

Before you realized, you were walking from side to side, staring at the floor (you were still wearing your navy blue uniform, which meant much time shouldn’t have passed) with your hands on each side of your waist.

“All of that happened. Great.” You giggled. That kind of giggle that comes when your body doesn’t know what else to do. You scratched your own scalp nervously, slightly aware of how insane you should be looking at that moment, but there was no time to care about that. “Uh. I suppose you’re not trying to kill me, right?”

“We are not.” The buff guy said with a voice so deep that startled you a little. The top of his head had spiky brown hair, while the sides were shaved; he had perfectly trimmed facial hair – a mustache and a goatee (much manlier than that ridiculous thing the kidnapper had). He wore a black suit without tie that only made him look bigger. His tone was stern. “Yet, we would like to make some questions.”

“You want to make some questions?” You glared at him for the first time. “Well, I got a lot of fucking questions to make.”

Buff guy quirked one eyebrow. Maybe he wasn’t used to people talking to him like that. Maybe you wouldn’t have talked to him like that in a normal day, but honestly? The filter in your head was broken at that point. It had melted with the rest of your brain around six hours ago.

“First off – where am I? You guys… you guys don’t look like policemen to me.”

“You are in Jujutsu High at this moment.” Buff guy said.

“And that explains a lot.” The dam that usually kept you from being overly sarcastic in serious situations had melted, too.

“Megumi-kun was right.” The doctor said. You turned to give her a better look: long dark brown hair, purple circles under her eyes that contrasted with her pale skin… overall, the tired face of a doctor. You could relate to that. Even her lethargic (even disinterested) tone felt very familiar. “She really has no idea.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Albino Jesus mumbled under his breath.

“I’m telling you. I know her from the hospital. She’s a non-sorcerer.” Fushiguro barged into the conversation (it seems he was trying to defend you, but you weren’t sure). “Or at least… she was until yesterday.”

You pointed from Fushiguro to lady doctor to Albino Jesus frantically. “Will you people stop talking about me as if I’m not in the room?”

“Pardon their lack of tact.” Buff guy spoke up again. From his tone and posture, you could see he was some sort of leadership (being almost 2 meters tall and built like a bear helps, probably), though you were under the impression he wasn’t one to be too tactful either.“My name is Masamichi Yaga, this school’s principal. You were involved in some abnormal situations this morning, and we are trying to figure out exactly why it happened.”

“So… you’re not the police.” You instinctively stepped back (as if you’d be able to run away from bear guy and Albino Jesus in this small room), feeling anxiety grow inside of you again.

“We are Jujutsu Sorcerers.” Masamichi saw your face retorting in a confused frown, and before you could spill another sarcastic remark without thinking (Really? And I’m a Sailor Guardian) he raised his hand to refrain you from interrupting. “I understand you’re confused at this moment, but quite frankly, we don’t have enough time to explain you the specifics. The incidents in which you were involved brought too much attention – thanks to someone that decided to act before informing anyone,” Albino Jesus giggled, “and now we have a lot of explanations to make. So, if you could please sit down and answer our questions, I’d be immensely grateful.”

His expression and his harsh tone did not match that final plead.

It was clear he wasn’t asking for your collaboration, but demanding it.

Again, it was the fourteen year old in the room who calmed you down.

“We are trying to help, Mori-san.” Fushiguro said quietly. “You can trust us.”

You thought for five seconds, feeling overwhelmed by the silence and all the eyes on you, before sighing deeply and nodding.

There was a small iron table in the corner. Hesitantly, you took a seat. Masamichi and Fushiguro followed, the older man in front of you; Albino Jesus stayed in the same place by the wall opposite to you. Lady doctor didn’t sit.

“So.” You intertwined your own fingers and rested your hands over the table, shaking your leg nervously. “I was kidnapped from my work place. He…” You pointed at Jesus hesitantly (that blindfold made it awkward to look at him for too long), “...rescued me, I guess–”

“And you slapped me in return.” He interrupted you with a boyish whine.

You stiffened and cleared your throat. “...Sorry about that. I was nervous.”

“Don’t apologize. He probably deserved it.” Doctor lady said flatly.

“Yeah, he deserved it.” Fushiguro said flatly.

“Definitely deserved it.” Masamichi said flatly.

He grinned proudly in response.

“Uh…” That was weird. “...And that’s about all I know.”

Masamichi hummed and held his chin. “You’ve never been involved with Jujutsu before?”

You blinked and tilted your head to the side. “I’m sorry, you keep saying this word but I– I have no idea what that is.”

“Oh my God. We’ll have to explain everything from scratch,” Albino Jesus groaned under his breath. Fushiguro sent him a nasty side eye.

“You are a teacher.”

You completely ignored their side banter and tried to make what remained from your brain work. “Wait, by Jujutsu, do you mean these… these things? The creepy things I see? The creatures?”

“So you can see curses.” Masamichi nodded.

“Were you always able to see them?” Fushiguro sounded surprised.

“Well, yeah. At the hospital. Everywhere. I’ve always seen these things, but–”

“And you were just living a normal life with this fact?” You could see the outline of Albino Jesus’ eyebrow quirking under the blindfold.

“Uh, yeah? What’d you expect me to do? D’you know what people think of you when you come with the ‘I see ghosts’ talk?! I didn’t want to be put into a straitjacket.” You crossed your arms defensively. “Besides – they looked creepy, but always seemed pretty harmless to me.”

“Harmless?” Fushiguro was even more surprised. All of them looked a bit surprised at this remark, in fact, and made you wonder if you said something wrong.

“Yes. They never interacted with me, so I thought it was all in my head. Until…” The image of the creepy rat from earlier made you shiver. Your then white tennis shoe was still dirty with its blood; now that it had dried, it went from purple to black, as if you’d stepped into a puddle of petroleum. “Until this morning.”

They side eyed each other in silence.

“Fushiguro-kun, are you certain she did not exhale any cursed energy before today?” Masamichi asked.

“Yes. I am certain.”

“That does not make any sense.” It was bear guy’s turn to cross his arms. “She just stated that she’s always seen curses. And she very obviously possesses cursed energy.”

Fushiguro stiffened; you saw as his ears took a slight blush. “B-But I… I am sure of it. I’ve come across Mori-san in the hospital many times, and she just felt like a normal person. Besides – Gojo-sensei has been in the hospital as well, right? And he never felt anything out of the usual.”

“Tryin’ to stick the blame on me, Megumi?” So Gojo was his name. He had put his hands behind his head in a relaxed position. Despite his words, it sounded that he was just teasing.

Fushiguro looked at him angrily. “You know I’m right.”

Masamichi was deep in thought. “Well… I doubt anyone with this much cursed energy would go her entire life without coming across a sorcerer.”

You were shaking your leg under the table even more frenetically. Maybe because very little of this conversation made any sense. Maybe because a bomb had been dropped over your head – the creatures you’ve always seen were real, you weren’t imagining anything.Or maybe because a part of you desperately needed to smoke. “Do you guys… like… hunt people that see these things?”

“Seeing curses and possessing cursed energy are two of the things that put us apart from the rest of humanity.” He explained – though it still didn’t make that much sense in your head. “There aren’t many of us in Japan. So the possibility of someone possessing both of these traits and never being sensed or recruited by a professional sorcerer is very unlikely.”

“In Japan, you said?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then it’s explained.” A small smile popped up in your lips as if you had figured out something very clever. “I lived half of my life out of Japan.”

Fushiguro frowned. “You’re not Japanese?”

“What? No– I mean, yes, I’m from Kyoto. But us – my family – we left Japan when I was ten.” You scratched your head nervously again. They’d start thinking you had lice at this point. “Huh, now that you mention it, I almost never saw these… things? Curses? Overseas. Here, though, I see so many–”

“Did you come back recently?” Masamichi interrupted.

“Two years ago.”

The principal hummed.

He took his sunglasses off, exposing a pair of dark brown eyes and strong eyebrows that made him look even more intimidating. Probably because he was frowning, staring at you in a way that made you feel exposed, as if he had noticed something he hadn’t before. He leaned closer to the table at the same rate you leaned back.

“What is your name again, miss?” Why did he look so interested out of sudden?

You gave him your full name.

“‘Mori’ comes from your father, correct?”

“Yes.”

“What is your mother’s family surname?”

It was strange to speak it out loud. Mom always hated it. It became something of a forbidden word at home. So, as you pronounced it, the name tasted sour in your tongue.

“Hosokawa.”

They all went silent.

Your eyes jumped from Fushiguro, to Masamichi, to doctor lady and to Albino Je– Gojo. Aside from the white-haired one (because you couldn’t see half of his face), they had slightly shocked expressions.

“What?” You asked, starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Now things are starting to make sense.” Doctor lady muttered.

“You’re Kimiko’s daughter?” Masamichi said.

Your head whipped back to him. “You knew my mother?”

The principal sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. He leaned his back on the chair once again.

“Your mother was a sorcerer.”

It was your turn to be completely shocked.

Another bomb dropped over your head as if it was nothing.

“My mother? A sorcerer?” You stared at him, waiting for him to dismiss it as a joke. But Masamichi was dead serious. You were under the impression he was incapable of joking or pranking anyone, to be honest. “Uh, I don’t think so. You must be mistaking her for someone else.”

“I’m afraid not, Mori-san.”

One more of your humorless chuckles went past your lips. You even smiled in disbelief. “Well, I think my mom would’ve told me if she was one.”

“I’m afraid not, Mori-san.” He repeated. “You said yourself that you left the country when you were a kid, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“And do you know why?”

“I don’t remember very well, but–”

You had to interrupt yourself.

A frown slowly took place in your face. You felt your shoulders dropping. Masamichi kept watching you, unfazed.

Crap.

“...As far as I know… she fought with my grandmother. And… cut ties with her side of the family.”

Masamichi nodded.

“Hosokawa is a sorcerer family.” For some reason, his words felt like a punch in the stomach. “A very traditional one at that. Your mother was a sorcerer, but retired when she was still young… completely withdrew from Jujutsu Society.”

“...Oh.” Was all you were able to speak.

You leaned on the chair and stared at the table blankly.

It felt like a cruel joke to discover that at such a date. July 18th. Yesterday, July 17th…

“This doesn’t explain everything.” Fushiguro said, completely unaware of how it had affected you. None of them seemed to be aware, in fact. Or care. “Why would they kidnap Mori-san like that? Why draw so much attention?”

“Maybe they’d demand a reward to have her back.” Lady doctor presumed in that same disinterested tone. “Or for revenge. It’s not like that family doesn’t have enemies.”

“...I doubt that.” You found the strength to barge in again. “I haven’t met anyone from my mother’s side of the family since I was ten. I doubt they even know I came back. I don’t think they’d care enough if anything happened to me.”

“Oh, they would.”

You all looked at Albin– Gojo (shit, that nickname really stuck). It was the first time he spoke up in a while.

“Please, enlighten us, Satoru.” Masamichi sounded both pissed and tired.

The white-haired guy just smiled.

He got up (you hadn’t noticed how tall that son of a bitch was) and walked towards the table, carrying his chair with him. He sat beside Fushiguro, unceremoniously pushing the boy to give him space (Fushiguro sent him another nasty side eye) and sat on the chair backwards.

It was the first time you gave a really good look at him from up close.

You had wondered before if his hair was bleached. But, from self experience, bleached hair would never look that soft and healthy (so he really was albino, huh? Though his skin wasn’t that pale). The fact that he wore a blindfold still threw you off, made you wonder if he was blind, even though he moved his head in directions that told you he could see. Made you curious to know what was under there. Also made him look like a freak.

However.

A sharp jawline, plump glossy lips, a masculine upturned nose and a prominent Adam’s apple were things you’d acknowledge from miles. Blindfold or not.

And his perfect white teeth.

And he had smile dimples.

Maybe it was a bit inappropriate how your half melted brain paid attention to that in such a critical situation, but oh well.

Okay. Focus now.

He was still smiling in a way you didn’t particularly like.

Gojo extended his tightened fist in your direction. You looked down at it and back to his face with clear confusion. Did he want to fist bump?

“Hold me.”

You leaned away, your face twisting in a scowl.

“Why?”

“C’mon, sweetheart. I won’t bite.”

Your eyes wandered to the other people in the room. None of them looked surprised or bothered by Gojo’s request, instead watching you with attention.

Weird. Weird, weird, weird. But of all the weird things you’d experienced today, that was the most normal.

So you decided to shrug and hold his wrist.

His skin felt hot.

“Was I supposed to feel something?” You muttered, unimpressed–

Until you looked up again.

Fushiguro had his jaw dropped.

Masamichi’s eyes were widened.

Even lady doctor, who looked very apathetic to everything, was pale.

It’s like they were scared to move. To breathe.

Gojo’s small smile had turned into a smirk you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Do you have it on, Gojo?” She asked quietly.

“Yep.”

“What is on? What are you talking about?” You looked around frantically.

“This,” Masamichi spoke in a bewildered tone you were not expecting to hear, “explains everything.”

“You could’ve told us earlier.” Fushiguro was sending him another nasty side eye. “Would’ve spared us from this entire conversation.”

For some reason, the fact that they were all ignoring you was the little push you needed to freak out.

“Okay, what is going on?!” You let go of his wrist and retreated your arm as if you’d been burned. You got up abruptly, scrapping the chair on the floor and gesticulating like a maniac. “If you’ve forgotten, I was kidnapped! I am the freaking victim here, but all you’ve done is interrogate me as if I’ve committed a crime!”

“Mori-san–” Fushiguro tried, but you were done with them.

“I don’t know if my mother’s family’s done something wrong, but I’m not associated with them! I don’t know why the hell these guys were after me! I don’t know anything! Like, hell, why are we in a school to begin with?! Why is a teenager involved in all this?!” Fushiguro looked a bit offended. “Why do you know my mother?!” Masamichi quirked one eyebrow. “And you–” You pointed at Gojo accusingly. “–Why are you wearing a blindfold?! It keeps throwing me off!”

Gojo smiled happily and threw you a V sign.

“None of what’s happening right now makes any sense!”

The principal sighed heavily. “If the situation wasn’t so atypical, we’d certainly make sure to explain everything. However–”

“However, I’m done listening right now.” You’re so sure he would’ve punched you at that moment if he could. The way his nostrils flared and a vein in his forehead popped made it clear. Whatever. “I have a younger sister. She’s a minor. I don’t know how long I’ve been out, and I need to check on her right now. Am I allowed to, sir?”

You glared at each other in silence for some seconds.

No one else dared to breathe.

Finally, he gave in.

Masamichi sighed and crossed his arms reluctantly.

“As you wish.”

Gojo shrugged and took something from the back pocket of his pants – and your eyes widened at the sight of your own phone and ID badge.

“Thank your blonde nurse friend later.”

It was a bit stupid of your half melted brain to notice how your phone looked small in his hand. It was also a bit stupid to be hyper aware of your fingers touching his when you took it back. It was also a bit strange to notice how he seemed to shake a bit from such a featherlight touch.

Whatever whatever whatever.

The screen lightened up, and you were surprised to see that it was 2PM – you’d gone through hell and it was still that early? The notification bar was overloaded. Texts and missed calls from Remi, Aunt Junko, some other colleagues and Mayu. Her latest text was from barely two minutes ago.

As if reading your mind, the screen lit up with a call from her. You immediately picked up.

“Hello? Mayu?” You sighed in relief upon hearing her voice. You walked to the back of the room, the fact that you were being observed still bothered you. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. Yeah, I was… I was stuck with a situation here. Yeah. Yeah. I am–”

You froze.

“What?!”

The three people in the room whipped their heads in your direction.

Your fingertips were shaking. Your vision went blurry. Heat crept up your neck; your legs lost their strength.

That hellish day was far from over.

“This morning, two explosions were reported in different areas of Tokyo. The first occurred at the Metropolitan Hospital; preliminary information points to a gas leak. Fortunately, the victims, a patient and three employees,only suffered minor injuries. The other explosion occurred in Sanya, at adisabled supermarket, with no casualties. The cause of the explosion is not yet known. However, authorities state that the two accidents are not related– ”

You hopped off the black sedan while it still hadn’t even stopped yet.

Maybe if you weren’t going through a meltdown, you would’ve noticed how ridiculously hot it was. It felt that you were inside a giant pressure cooker. The sky was clear, however, so at least there wasn’t another summer storm ahead. Maybe you would’ve noticed that, despite the heat, it was a pretty afternoon, the type that would make you want to either jog around the block or deep clean the house before your courage wore off.

You didn’t pay attention to any of that.

The only thing that mattered was Mayu, standing on the sidewalk by the apartment building’s side, holding that fat demon in her arms.

“Are you okay?!” You gripped her shoulders and looked at her up and down. Mayu wore baggy jeans, an oversized black t-shirt and Vans sneakers, her backpack hanging from one shoulder. Her dark green hair was tied in a ponytail.

“Damn. You look like you’ve been to war. The hell happened to you?” Was the only thing that little shit said in return whilst frowning.

It’s funny how she made you go from “worried sick” to “I’m gonna strangle you” in seconds. You stepped back and huffed. “Thank you for showing so much concern, Mayu.”

She shrugged. “You told me you were okay through the phone, so…”

“What did you see exactly?” You eyed the fourth floor of the building nervously – your floor.

“Well. I got here and the door was broken down. It’s a complete mess inside.” It was also funny how Mayu could describe the scariest scenario while keeping the most nonchalant face ever.

“D’you call the police?”

“I thought it was better to wait for you. Don’t think the police would like to see a minor unattended.”

Smart girl.

“You really ain’t having a great day, huh?”

She looked over your shoulder and quirked one eyebrow.

You turned around. Gojo and Fushiguro approached: the younger one had a serious expression, while the older one was slouching as usual, eating his third popsicle in a row. This one was blue. His left hand was shoved in the pocket of his jacket, and a plastic bag full of popsicles hung from his forearm (you had no idea when he got those. It should’ve been before leaving the school, but you didn’t see it).

“No shit,” you groaned under your breath.

Mayu’s eyes went from them to you rapidly, sending a questioning look your way. “So…?”

“Name’s Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet ya. Want a popsicle?” He offered the bag absently.

“Hell yeah.” She huffed tiredly and shoved her hand inside the bag, picking a strawberry one and ignoring your furious glaring. This girl had a serious problem. Being offered a popsicle was enough for her to not suspect the situation anymore.

Gojo looked down (“looked”) to the fat demon in Mayu’s arms.

“It’s so… round.” He sounded a bit impressed.

Countess just whipped her tail around angrily in response – the tortie cat that for sure was the reincarnation of an evil spirit. She was probably angry to have that many people around her, but she was always angry, so whatever.

“Don’t call her fat. She gets offended easily.” Mayu replied while biting her popsicle.

You rolled your eyes and turned around again; you were so anxious and nervous and angry that your ears were almost smoking like an old cartoon. There was no time to focus on the cat while your home had been invaded.

“Can we focus, please?!” You were about to walk inside the building, but an arm prevented you from doing so.

“Hey, slow down, Lara Croft.” Gojo didn’t bother looking (“looking”) down at you, focused on the fourth floor instead… and it immediately made you feel cold despite the heat, because you didn’t tell him your apartment was on the fourth floor. “You’re still in danger here, alright? Don’t go walking into places alone.”

The white-haired man looked behind his back. “Watch Mayu-chan, ‘kay?” He told Fushiguro. Mayu hadn’t introduced herself, he probably just picked her name from your talk on the phone. You also didn’t miss the casual chan. He pointed up with his head and looked down at you again. “C’mon.”

You still stayed on the sidewalk for a while to see Fushiguro and Mayu standing side by side awkwardly.

Mayu stepped away and sent him a side eye.

“Don’t even look at me. I like girls.”

Fushiguro blushed violently from either outrage or embarrassment. “What?! I wasn’t gonna–”

You ran after Gojo before you could laugh.

The two of you were the biggest contrast possible – you, almost vibrating in a frequency that could break glass from such nervousness; him, completely relaxed and humming a tune. He walked fast. Maybe his one kilometer legs were a factor. Regardless, you reached the fourth floor quickly. You were about to mumble how you didn’t have your keys before remembering that the door had been broken down.

Yet, the sight still made your stomach drop.

It was ripped off the hinges.

Gojo walked inside in front of you, absently turning the lights of the living room on. None of you bothered to take your shoes off.

You gasped.

The apartment… it was upside down.

One thing about you – as unhealthy as it was, you hated crying. Especially in front of a freak you barely even knew. But at that moment, seeing your home in a complete and violent mess, you felt a strong knot in your chest, a tightness in your throat that you almost couldn’t fight back.

Glass covered the floor from the destroyed coffee table. Pictures that were previously hung from the walls now were on the floor. The couch had been turned over; the TV was on the ground. Some cabinets from the kitchen had their doors ripped off. In your bedroom, all your belongings – clothes, books – everything was off the drawers and shelves.

Your home. Your things. The stuff you bought with your money, and the stuff from your parents you would never be able to throw away.

Your space invaded. Disrespected.

You didn’t even know what to say.

“We’re lucky that your sister wasn’t here when this happened.” Gojo’s voice echoed from another room. He showed up from the corridor, now biting the tip of the already eaten popsicle stick. He had the decency to sound a bit more serious, at least.

You gulped the lump in your throat. “Was it… was it them?”

“I don’t know if it was them. But this isn’t the work of a simple robber. There’s cursed energy residue all over the place.” These terms they used kept bugging your brain. With a surprisingly patient demeanor you hadn’t seen until that moment, he approached. “You’re not seeing it yet because you’re not trying to see. Focus your vision. Pay attention.”

You tightened your eyes and looked at where he was pointing – the opposite wall. At first, you just thought he was coo coo crazy (kind of hoping everyone would pop up clapping and laughing and a camera crew would appear. You’ve been pranked!). But… the more you looked, the better you saw.

Another involuntary gasp erupted from you. Gojo seemed satisfied.

The entire apartment was stained with marks.

Black and ghostly; they flickered like a TV channel out of tune. They dripped from the walls, the ceiling; hand marks, sole marks… they were everywhere.

Your stomach twirled.

“So this means… this is the work of a curse?” Your voice was fragile.

“No. Curse users. Criminal sorcerers, basically.” Gojo crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side. That mysterious smirk was there again. “You are being hunted, missy. And this mess right here is the warning they left to you.”

Your legs were weak again.

You looked around the destroyed living room. Gojo was right… what if Mayu was here at the moment the apartment was invaded? What would’ve happened to her? The simple thought made you shiver.

“I bet there’s a reward for your head already.” He continued absently. Gojo had walked towards the fridge (the living room and the kitchen were divided by a small counter) and opened it as if it was his house, as if the destruction around didn’t bother him. “Ijichi’s still checking that, but I’m sure it’s already on the deep web. A big reward, given the mess they caused in the hospital.”

You heard it on the radio: the hospital had blown up. They had exploded their way out, dragging you along. Luckily, no one got hurt… but still...

“I… I don’t understand.” You hated how weak your voice was, but how could you act differently? “I’m trying to wrap my head around what you all said, but it still makes little sense to me. Why is this happening? Why me?”

You heard the click of a can opening. He really was drinking your Coca-Cola without even bothering to ask… “Well, for starters, you’re a Hosokawa.”

“I don’t use that name.” It was an automatic response that made you sound way too much like your mother.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s still in your blood, sweetheart. You can’t run away from it.” Gojo walked back to the living room. With his feet (and seemingly without doing much effort) he pushed the couch back to its normal position, plopping down on it; he crossed his legs and rested his arm over the back of the couch in a relaxed position. “Let me try to explain it in simple terms: there are curses, which are the ‘creatures’ you know. They are created by the accumulation of negative emotions that humans naturally leak; in other words, cursed energy. Then there are sorcerers – us. We don’t leak cursed energy like normal humans do. Instead, we can channel it into techniques.”

His words were flowing into your brain like an avalanche of information (and it didn’t look like he planned on slowing down). Slowly, you sat down on a chair nearby, feeling your headache get worse and worse.

“But there’s the catch!” He continued after sipping more soda. “You can’t learn a technique; you’re either born with one or you got nothing. So strong techniques are super valuable in the Jujutsu world. If a family has an inherited technique – one that goes down the bloodline – they do what they can to protect it and rub it in everyone’s faces if one of their children gets one. And unfortunately for you, miss, you have a pretty impressive inherited technique.”

“Huh?” You gripped the fabric of your pants nervously. “I don’t– I don’t think I have this… thing.”

“Oh, but you do.” Gojo caught something from the pocket of his jacket and threw it in your direction. “Catch it!”

You almost dropped it, but managed to grip whatever it was (more thanks to his great aim than your reflexes, to he honest). You looked down at the small unidentified object, smaller than your palm: it was wrapped in yellowed paper with engravings in black ink that you immediately recognized–

That was one second before it caught fire.

You shrieked, startled, and dropped it on the floor. It was that again – the black flames from before; they lightened up for a few moments, engulfing the small object, before dissipating as fast as they came. And just like before, the yellowed paper was gone, revealing a miniature, ancient looking oni mask.

“W-What the– it happened again!” You couldn’t fight the urge to recoil your legs up the chair and press them against your chest as if the miniature was a cockroach.

Gojo giggled and opened a knowing smirk you were already getting used to.

“That was your technique in action.” He pointed to the tiny mask on the floor. “This is a talisman. It was sealed. Your technique broke the seal effortlessly.”

You remembered the kidnappers’ incomprehensible talk from back then…

She broke the seals.

Ain’t my fault. The seals were pretty tight. This only means she really is the one, huh?

“B-But I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, because you’re unaware of it yet. But the sole property of your cursed energy is like a nullifier.”

You gulped, feeling a horrible taste in your tongue. “Is it… like… a big deal?”

“If it’s a big deal?” Gojo huffed and gesticulated widely. “Of course it is! On paper, you could break any seal! Negate any other technique! Hell, you could kill me if you wanted!”

After you saw him floating midair and twisting limbs with the power of his mind or whatever that was? “Uh, I don’t think so.”

“Do you understand how valuable this technique is?” He ignored you. “It’s extremely rare. I’ve never met anyone with something like that before.”

You gulped. The general idea of what he meant was clear. “So that’s why they’re after me. Because of this… technique.”

“Yep.”

“Is there a way to get rid of it?”

“No. It’s a part of you, like an organ.”

You put your feet back on the floor and crossed your arms. “Well, if it’s really a part of me, then why didn’t it ever bring me any problems until yesterday?”

“That, my friend, is a good question.” He chugged more soda. It reminded you that you were thirsty and hungry.

You ran your hand over your face. That annoying headache was getting worse and worse. Your home was a mess, the curse users people knew where you lived, the creepy stuff you’ve always seen was real, you were the bearer of a technique that could do something you hadn’t understood very well yet, there was a blindfolded guy drinking your Cola without asking, and you reeeally needed a cigarette.

“What do I do now?” Your tone was hopeless, because that’s how you felt. “We can’t stay here. Should I… should I call the police or something?”

“Hmm…” Gojo pouted thoughtfully. You tried to act nonchalant when he crushed the empty soda can without even touching it (the thing floated near his palm and shrunk). “I guess you two can spend the night at the school, given your circumstances. But Jujutsu High doesn’t accommodate people who aren’t active sorcerers or non-sorcerers… so that’s how long your stay can be.”

“That’s okay. Tomorrow is a problem for tomorrow me.” You got up and looked around nervously. If anyone info-dumped more Jujutsu content of cursed energy content or technique content, you might have a stroke. “Uh… I’ll just grab some clothes real quick.”

Gojo threw a thumbs up and grabbed his phone from his pocket, now more focused on scrolling it than paying attention to you.

You were about to run down the corridor when something popped in your head and you came back hesitantly.

“Huh… Gojo-san?” He looked (“looked”) up from his phone immediately. “I’d… prefer if my sister was kept in the dark about all this. You know, the sorcery stuff.”

He hummed and scratched his forehead with his thumb. “Well, it’s gonna be difficult. We’re going to Jujutsu High.”

“Yeah, but…” You fiddled with your fingers nervously. “Hell, not even I understand exactly what’s going on. And Mayu – she’s not like me. She doesn’t see things. So… just until I figure things out. Please?”

He smiled. “Just ‘cause you were really polite.”

He really was kind of annoying, huh?

You rushed. Took a backpack and shoved whatever clothes you could find. A pair of clean sneakers too. Toothbrush. The phone charger. Countess’ pink carrier. A pack of cigarettes and a lighter (Thank God!). Lastly, you took the wedding picture of your parents from the butsudan and shoved it into the bag. From everything in the apartment, that photo was what mattered the most.

Gojo put the door back into the hinges and you walked off the building.

Mayu was sitting on the curb with the demon still on her lap. Fushiguro stood a few meters away from her with an angry expression, eyes focused on his phone.

You plopped down next to Mayu. Countess hissed at you. You hissed back.

“They should’ve taken your fat ass.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Mayu elbowed you angrily; you didn’t have the energy to elbow her back. Instead, you simply lighted up a cigarette and inhaled it, savoring the feeling. “So what’s the plan?”

You sighed heavily. “I was thinking… double suicide.”

“Ew. If you wanna die, go alone. I have a date with my beautiful Kiku-chan on Wednesday, so I must live.”

You frowned. “Kiku-chan? Wasn’t it Rio-chan?”

“We broke up.”

“Wasn’t it, like… past week?”

“Yeah. The planet spins. Water flows. Everything changes in a few days, sister.”

Mayu didn’t mind you glaring at her with disgust. “You’re trash.”

“Actually, I have a big heart and a lot of love to give. You should try it out anytime, you know? Love.”

“No time for love in this economy.” Great excuse to give as your fourteen year old sister had a more exciting love life than you – even if she was pretty irresponsible with it. You envied her, honestly. Her home had been invaded and trashed, but not only did she not seem bothered by it, she was thinking of her silly little date. This girl was not okay in the head. You smoked the last drag and got up. “Put the demon in the carrier. We’re sleeping out tonight.”

“Where?”

“In a school.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, either.”

No time for explanations.

And just like that, you were all squeezed in the car.

Gojo on the passenger seat. Fushiguro and Mayu on the windows, you in the middle like a child. The demon inside the carrier over Mayu’s lap. The driver seemed on the verge of a panic attack all the time (you forgot his name). He wore a suit, thin glasses, had his hair parted in the middle; he looked like the type of guy who’d be bullied in school (and Gojo looked like the type of guy who would bully him, which explained a lot about their dynamic).

“Who wants to pick the next song?!” Gojo said excitedly. He did not know how to modulate the volume of his voice – why speak so loud inside a car? Why was he excited in the first place?! “Megumi?”

Fushiguro just groaned in response. He looked out the window, arms crossed, grumpy expression.

“Me!” Mayu raised her hand like a student in class. Gojo offered her his phone. You already knew she’d chose that new EXO song she’d been talking about the entire week. While giving his phone back, she peeked her head from behind his seat (and you already knew there was something atrocious coming). “By the way, what’s up with the blindfold, man? You blind?”

You elbowed her ribs and she winced. Countess inside the carrier hissed in unison. “Mayu!” Jesus Christ, she really was like a toddler who would stare and point at a disabled person on the street.

“What?! I’m curious!”

Well, I’m curious too, but I wouldn’t ask that to his face, you would’ve said if you could.

Gojo laughed, however, and didn’t sound bothered by her question. “I have reeeeally sensitive eyes, you know.”

You tried to act nonchalant upon hearing this new discovery. So he’s not blind. Okay. But is he, like. Seeing everything under the blindfold? The idea of him having his eyes opened under there and his eyeball touching the fabric made you shiver, so you decided to stop wondering.

“Oh. That sucks. I’m really short-sighted too, but I wear contacts!” Gojo chuckled again in a tone that sounded like you have no idea, girl. “Also, huh, are you guys officers?”

He looked back. “Your sister didn’t explain it to you?” It was annoying how you could see when he was quirking his eyebrow.

“I don’t have the mental fortitude to explain anything at the moment.” You said between gritted teeth. That was the truth. Maybe irresponsible, but still true.

Gojo shrugged and looked ahead again. “What are we, Ijichi?”

He patted the driver on the shoulder (Ijichi. Right. Remember this name.), and the poor man shrieked. He did look on the verge of a panic attack. Maybe teasing the guy behind the wheel was be a horrible idea.

“We are… huh… civil servants?”

“Exactly! That’s what we are, Mayu-chan. Civil servants. You’re surrounded by pretty reliable people, just like your nurse sister–” ­

“I’m not a nurse.” Your voice came quick and venomous.

Gojo looked back at you again.

“What’s wrong with being called a nurse?”

You crossed your arms defensively. “Nothing wrong with being called a nurse. It’s just that I’m not one.”

He looked ahead again, but before he did, you saw the teasing smirk increase on his lips. “Eh, you people that do medicine are all pretty arrogant, huh?”

Fushiguro sent him another nasty side eye. “You complaining about arrogance?”

Before you could defend yourself, Mayu popped from behind his seat again. “No, but that’s, like, so true. Dad was like that, too. It’s like any other profession isn’t good enough besides theirs.”

You elbowed her ribs again. She winced again. Countess hissed again. “You’re supposed to be on my side!” You whined between gritted teeth.

“I’m just telling the truth!”

You sunk on the seat and grimaced. “I’m not arrogant, okay? It’s just that I spent way too long studying to not be called what I am. A doctor. That’s all.”

“Really? What is your specialty, Mori-san?” You were surprised to hear the driv– Ijichi politely barge into the conversation, sounding both apprehensive and interested.

“Emergency medicine.”

“It’s not a specialty any person would pick.” He sounded politely impressed. It made you like him more. “One must have nerves of steel to work in such field, eh?”

“Well. Yes. You get used to it after a while.”

Gojo crossed his arms. “Huh. My field of work requires nerves of steel, yet you never compliment me for it.” He was pouting. That grown man was pouting like a child, and probably glaring at Ijichi under the blindfold. Ijichi shrieked again.

“Well– I– Eh–”

“Maybe because he was talking to me, not to you?” It was your turn to tilt in his direction slightly. Ijichi shrieked again. “Does it bother you not being the center of attention all the time?”

“It does.” Fushiguro grumbled.

Gojo threw his arms up in surrender. “Geez! God forbid a guy wanting a little compliment once in a while!”

“You want compliments all the time.” The black-haired boy grumbled again.

Mayu peeked her head from behind the seat again. “Who’s gonna pick the next song?”

“Me!” Gojo shouted happily while opening Youtube again. Fushiguro sunk on the seat as if feeling a bad omen. “The three of you are being annoying, so just me and Mayu will choose the songs from now on!”

His song choice started. The familiar and insufferable EDM filled the car.

“No.” You whimpered. “Not this song…”

“Yes!” Gojo grinned like a maniac and turned up the volume. Fushiguro looked either about to vomit or jump out the window. Mayu hopped on her seat. To your disgrace, the two of them shouted the lyrics in unison: “C’-c-c-c-c’ mon baby! U! S! A!”

You ran your hand over your face and sighed deeply.

You had been kidnapped that morning. You were being hunted by criminals. Your home had been wrecked. Apparently, you possessed a “technique”. Your mother had lied to you about her real past. But yeah, sure, let’s sing along to U.S.A by DA PUMP at the top of our lungs. This is fine. This is fine.

The next hour went like that. Jujutsu High was in the middle of fucking nowhere, so you were lucky that the traffic wasn’t as heavy as it’d usually be, otherwise you’d arrive at night. The sun had already disappeared behind the horizon line; the sky had orange tones and the temperature was a bit more bearable. Shit, you needed a shower. You needed to eat. You needed to reply to everyone that had been bombarding your phone (Remi especially). Most importantly, you needed to sleep. Maybe after some sleep you’d be able to think more clearly.

But no.

That hellish day was not over yet.

Because at the same time Ijichi parked the car at the school’s gates, you saw two other cars parked as well – and a few people getting out of them.

You wished you wouldn’t have recognized her immediately.

You’d last seen her around sixteen years ago, after all. You had changed. She had changed. And yet, the moment you laid your eyes on her figure, there was no mistaking.

She wore a sober black yukata – the same from your memories. Her hair was completely white, tied in a perfect low bun. She should be over eighty now. Yet, her advanced age did not bring you any sympathy. She was accompanied by three other men (all wearing traditional clothing, all younger), but still, you could only focus on her.

Mayu, clueless to everything, had gripped the door handle and was about to jump out of the car.

You shut the door again forcefully.

“What is this woman doing here?”

Your tone made everyone freeze in place.

Mayu looked from you to the woman out there. You hated how she started to recognize her, too, even if just through pictures.

“Is… is that…?”

Ijichi shrieked.

“Masamichi-san asked me to contact the Hosokawa Household about the incident,” he looked from you to the group and to Gojo nervously. “Did I do something wrong…?”

Gojo chuckled quietly and hummed. You were under the impression he found the whole situation entertaining, but you couldn’t care less about what he thought at the moment.

“You pissed Yaga off, Mori-chan.” He said in a sing-song tone. “He’s throwing the responsibility over your family.”

“She’s not my family.” There was no time to be snarky anymore. Not with that woman there. Not knowing that yesterday was July 17th.

You were trying your best to keep your cool even after all of today’s events for your own sanity. But that couldn’t be taken lightly – not even your nerves of steel could take it.

You were seething.

“So, what you gonna do?” Gojo crossed his arms. “You can’t sit here forever.”

Your jaw was tightened. Your heart was pumping. Your eyes were in flames.

But you weren’t one to run away from confrontation. You never were.

“Stay in the car.” You told Mayu sternly. You opened the door and managed to jump over her lap (Countess hissed inside the carrier).

“But–”

“Stay in the car.” You shut the door again before she could argue more.

That woman immediately noticed your presence.

You had the time to hear Mayu’s muffled voice inside the car:

“Mr. Blindfold, is my grandmother someone important?” She asked in an apprehensive tone. “’Cause if she is, I don’t think it’s a good idea to let my sister talk to her.”

Gojo giggled in response.

“This is gonna be fun.”

He hopped off the car.

You walked on a beeline towards the entrance. Masamichi was there, too, accompanied by two people in suits (a man and a woman), yet you couldn’t focus on anyone else. Just her.

Hosokawa Nobuko.

She was shorter than you remembered. Her skin, wrinkled and fragile. A cane helped her stand. She could pass as a simple elderly woman to anyone, but those eyes couldn’t hide the truth. The cold, heartless eyes staring back at you.

She measured you up and down. Your navy blue uniform. The stained tennis shoe. The disheveled hair. The iron grimace.

All she said was: “You grew up.” And that was the nicest thing she could say. You knew how she could be mean. You remembered.

“And you got old.”

The people around you froze.

At that moment, Masamichi found out setting up this meeting might not have been a good idea.

“Let us get inside and talk appropriately,” the principal said. You wanted to yell I have nothing to talk to this woman, but the still sane part of you decided not to. Decided to listen.

Your mother barely talked about her family; your memories from your childhood in Kyoto were damaged by time. You had just discovered that your mother used to be a sorcerer, and apparently her retirement was what made her cut ties with the family. It was all too new, too confusing, and as much as you hated it, maybe this woman – your grandmother – could grant you some answers.

Maybe she had changed. People change with time, isn’t it? Get softer.

Just looking at her was enough to know she hadn’t.

But still. You decided to obediently walk inside the school’s gigantic property towards the administration complex. No one dared to mutter a word – well, except for Gojo who hummed U.S.A quietly all along. He was beaming, in fact.

Finally, you got to some sort of meeting room. It had fancy green sofas with a coffee table in between. Nobuko sat in one sofa with her three companions standing behind her. You sat on the opposite sofa. Masamichi sat on an armchair between the sofas like a mediator; Gojo plopped down beside you as it it was his house. The two people in suits stood behind the sofa.

You stared at each other.

The air inside the room seemed to be charged with electricity.

“I’d like to extend my thanks for your presence, Hosokawa-san–”

“What are you doing here?”

Your voice was sharp like steel.

You didn’t have time to listen to formalities or care for it.

It immediately set the atmosphere inside the room.

There it was. Her gaze. It hadn’t changed a bit. The arrogance, the cold, the nonchalance – it was all there.

She tapped her finger over the cane slowly.

“You know very well why I am here, child.”

“I don’t, actually. Don’t think you would come greet me out of the kindness of your heart.”

One of the men behind her glared at you with so much anger, he’d make a hole on your forehead if he could. He was probably your cousin. “Excuse me, who do you think you’re talking to, miss?!”

“Yeah. I’m talking to your boss.”

Nobuko chuckled and raised her hand without bothering to look back. “It’s okay, Juugo. I’ll deal with her.”

You huffed with disdain.

Nobuko measured you up and down again. Slowly. Her lips slightly upturned in a disdainful smirk; her eyes gleaming with distaste. That wasn’t a usual, innocent old lady; she never was, and never would be.

“Extinguishment.” She spoke in a thoughtful, raspy voice. “I didn’t think I’d live to witness it. I really was blessed with a long life.” Nobuko tilted her head to the side slowly; the movement reminded you of a snake. “Do you even know what I’m referring myself to, child?”

But the sole property of your cursed energy is like a nullifier.

“My technique.”

The other people in the room eyed the scene like a tennis match. She chuckled quietly again. “And to think you had it all along.”

“Well, maybe you would’ve known sooner if you cared about us.”

“It was your mother’s decision to cut ties. I simply respected it.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Nobuko chuckled again. You fantasized about shoving that vase in the corner down her throat.

“This doesn’t matter anymore. The past is in the past; what matters is the present and the future. And you, child–”

“I have a name. Do you even know my name?”

“Now that it matters to me, yes, I know your name.” The atmosphere in the room got heavier and heavier. Tons heavier. There it was; her showing her true persona. “You are being targeted by forces beyond your comprehension. You possess a technique that hadn’t reappeared since we were part of the glorious Fujiwara clan, yet you barely know what to do with it.” Nobuko quirked one eyebrow. “The only people that can actually help you are the one’s who you continue to disrespect.”

You tilted your head in disbelief. “So you came all the way to tell me you want to help?”

“Of course.” She straightened up like a proud peacock. “You should know, child, that I never agreed with your departure. You should’ve stayed with us. Heavens, how powerful would you be if received proper training from a young age?”

You stared at her in silence for a few seconds. That, perhaps, gave the impression you were agreeing with her – but it lasted just those few seconds.

“You’re lying.”

Nobuko frowned. “What?”

“You’re lying.” Your tone got progressively more venomous. “You didn’t know I had this technique until Masamichi-san contacted you. That’s why you hopped on a bullet train to Tokyo so fast in the first place.” Ancient memories from your childhood resurfaced like mismatching pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. You couldn’t remember the details, but you remembered how you didn’t like her, how the house in Kyoto was unwelcoming and oppressive, mother’s heated arguments with her… “That’s why mom cut ties with you, isn’t it? You didn’t know I had this. You despised me the way you despised her.”

Her disdainful smirk was back. “Despise? Your mother had the best opportunities Jujutsu Society could offer her despite being a woman.”

“You are a woman.”

“A woman that knows her place.” She sounded proud of herself. “The moment she decided to walk out of line, she chose to not have our support anymore.”

“And you want me to know my place, too?”

“Of course.” Nobuko had the audacity to show a proud smile. “You might not be able to reach the peak of your abilities this late in life, but there’s still time. There is a place in this world reserved for people with an ability like yours, child. A place of honor and pride.”

Gojo exhaled a quiet disdainful chuckle beside you.

Once again, you remembered his words.

If a family has an inherited technique – one that goes down the bloodline – they do what they can to protect it and rub it in everyone’s faces if one of their children gets one.

“What’s this gonna grant you, granny?” Nobuko quirked an eyebrow at the mocking nickname. “I might not fully understand what’s going on, but I know what type of person you are.”

Her nostrils flared. He inhaled.

“You really are too much like her.”

The anger in her voice was what filled your patience through the brim.

Too much happened that day. You had a headache. You were confused, scared and angry. Yet, the way that old lady had the audacity to show that emotion in front of you was like adding gasoline to a fire.

Maybe your twisted situation worsened your distaste towards her. But you couldn’t stand that. Being in the same space as her. Looking at her. She looked like your mother.

“Your daughter. She was your daughter.” Your voice raised – angry, gritted, barely contained. “Her name was Kimiko.”

The room felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. No one else dared to breathe. Masamichi, however, as a mediator, still tried:

“Mori-san, please tone it down–”

“You’re childish.” Nobuko cut him off. “If you can’t sit down and talk like an adult, I won’t stay here any longer–”

You leaned forward, eyes beaming with fire.

“Do you know what day was yesterday?”

The old lady interrupted herself at your sudden question.

“July 17th? Do you know what day was yesterday?” You pressed on.

She frowned. “What?”

She didn’t know.

The pressure cooker exploded.

“Ten years since your daughter died. It was yesterday.” You watched as, for the first time, quiet embarrassment covered her expression. She had the decency to feel ashamed, at least. “The daughter whose funeral you didn’t attend. Yet, here you are now, wanting me to go back to your house because I have something you want. You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t you dare disrespect Nobuko-sama like that–” One of the man behind her tried again.

“I don’t fucking care!” You got up abruptly. The other people in the room flinched. “I don’t care about your family or your honor. You’re all disgusting!”

“Mori-san.” Masamichi’s voice was stern. He wasn’t intimidated by your outburst, but you were far from caring at that moment either. “Do you understand what you’re doing right now?”

“I understand very well.” You pointed your index finger at Nobuko accusingly. “You’re right, I am too much like my mother. I never wanna see your face again.”

She stared back at you with the same intensity.

“You will regret this.”

“We’ll see who’ll regret what.”

Without sparing a last look at anyone, you stormed out of the room.

You didn’t know where you were or how long it had been, but the sky was almost completely dark.

Jujutsu High was immense. You didn’t know where you were going. Your vision was blurred, your head was aching, your heart was pounding. You just walked aimlessly out of the building, then crossed the complex, then ended in another building – fuck, you didn’t know where the entrance was. But you couldn’t face Mayu, not in this state.

You found a hidden place behind what looked like an old shrine. Ahead, a railing separated the school property from a hill and a forest that extended for kilometers; Tokyo shined in the far distance. You sat there, your back against the wall, knees close to your chest, and smoked.

You may have cried. You didn’t know.

You just stayed there until your hands stopped shaking.

It all felt like a big fat joke brushed in your face.

You didn’t have time to digest anything. The whole thing barely made sense yet. Your dear grandmother’s visit was the cherry on top.

And yet, what might have caused such a grand reaction from you was the fact that she looked too much like your mother. Except you’d never see mom this old, because she had died ten years ago – and Nobuko didn’t even care.

You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of the wind and the forest. You… you just needed to sleep. You just needed to be alone. You just– you just needed some freaking paracetamol–

The sound of steps approaching made you remember that you had no time to rest, actually. You never did.

Gojo was clapping.

You opened one eye to see him grinning.

“Let me say, that was the most spectacular social suicide I’ve ever seen in my life!” He put both hands on each side of his waist. “Congratulations!”

You sighed heavily and hid your face behind your hands.

“I really don’t need this right now…”

“Okay. Straight to business, then.” You looked between your fingers. The white-haired man was leaning on the railing in front of you with a carefree posture (as usual). Nothing ever bothered him, and he didn’t care about bothering anyone. “What you gonna do from now on?”

“I…”

“You have few options.” He interrupted you. “Respectfully, despite what you said back there – very badass, by the way, I respect it –, I think you don’t understand what you just did.”

You crossed your arms and grimaced at him.

“Okay. Explain it.”

Gojo patted his index finger over the tip of his nose. “The Hosokawa Family is kinda important, you know? Big traditional household. Boring, I know. But. They were among the only people able to protect you and your sister. And they probably have the ancient scrolls with the knowledge about your technique… but you just told their matriarch to fuck off.”

“I’d rather die than go back with them.”

“Again! I respect it!” He threw his opened palms to his sides. “But it has its consequences anyway. She may make your life more difficult than it should be.”

You gulped. Maybe you should’ve thought this through better? Yeah. Actually, no. Fuck them.

“So, with the family option scratched, you have another one.” Gojo pointed two fingers up. “You pissed Yaga off, sure. But we’re always in need of sorcerers, regardless of age. So, if you commit yourself to becoming a sorcerer… receiving proper training… the school will be able to back up your expenses and protection. Both to you and your sister, at least until we find out who’s after you and why.”

You leaned forwards slightly, more interested now. “And how would it work?”

“You’d get to live here, which is the safest place in the world for you right now. We’re paid to work, too, so you wouldn’t need to worry about money. Of course, you’d have to work your ass off to catch up with the minimum a sorcerer needs to be able to go on missions.”

“Missions to what exactly…?”

Gojo groaned. “Gosh. You really know nothing…”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m asking you to explain. Aren’t you a teacher?!”

He tsked. “Sorcerers exorcise curses, sweetheart. The creepy creatures, you know? We get rid of these things, because they’re actively dangerous to normal humans. Dangerous to us, too. Not me, actually, but to you– super dangerous. And you might die fighting, by the way, which is how most of us die – not me, by the way, but that’s how most sorcerers die.”

Your face retorted slowly as if you were tasting a sour lemon. “Wow. You’re doing great propaganda in your favor.”

Gojo waved his hand dismissively. “Relax. We don’t throw anyone into super dangerous missions head on. There’s levels of difficulty, like a video game. Get it? Weaklings like you are at the moment would deal with equally weakling curses.”

You looked down at the floor. It didn’t sound so horrible. No, actually, it sounded horrible. And yet, if it meant Mayu would be safe… just until you’d get who’s after you…

“It… sounds viable.” You agreed quietly, which seemed to excite him.

“Right? There’s a small condition, though.”

You whipped your head back at him. Gojo was eyeing your uniform. “What?”

“Jujutsu sorcerers work full time. It can’t be a side job thing. So… your current job…” He pursed his lips and tilted his head.

“No.” Was your immediate answer.

“What?”

“No. I– I can’t leave my residency.”

Gojo sighed heavily.

He wouldn’t get it. He wouldn’t get that you spent years of your life studying. He wouldn’t get that your father encouraged you to keep studying even when he got sick and you almost dropped out to take care of him. He wouldn’t understand that, by leaving your residency behind, you’d be leaving your father’s sacrifices, too. And you wouldn’t drop that over someone you met that morning.

“You’re making your own life very difficult right now…”

“I can’t throw eight years of my life away!” You gesticulated nervously. “It’s not just a job, medicine is my life!”

Gojo grumbled quietly and threw his head back.

The half melted part of your brain notice his Adam’s apple bobbing again. And how fluffy his hair looked. Whatever whatever whatever.

He looked (“looked”) back at you again with his head tilted to the side. You really, really wished you could see his eyes to properly to decipher his expression.

“You can’t stay here if you’re not associated with Jujutsu High, Mori. Neither your sister. She’s a non-sorcerer.”

Fear slowly set in your stomach.

“So… what do I do?”

“You go back to your house, wait until the people after you kidnap you again, and we’ll have to rescue you again. If we make it in time, that is.” Gojo shrugged.

You gulped and avoided his gaze. Maybe he thought you were childish, just like Nobuko. Maybe you were childish. But fuck, you didn’t ask for any of this! You just wanted to go home and sleep after a 24 hour shift, not to be dragged into a world you knew nothing about!

Gojo hummed.

“You don’t want to go back with your family. You don’t want to become a full-time sorcerer. Yet, you want you and your sister to be safe, whilst keeping your merry doctor life.” Why was he repeating all that? Was he mocking you? What was wrong with him?

“I didn’t even have time to think about everything–”

He crouched down in front of you suddenly.

You shrieked, startled, at the sudden proximity.

He was smiling. His teeth were white. His dimple was cute.

“Okay, then.”

You stared at him in shocked silence for a few seconds.

“What?”

“Yep. Sounds fine to me.” Gojo tilted his head to the side. His hair was infuriating. His smirk was infuriating. He was infuriating.

And what he was about to propose would be even more infuriating than anything he’d done until that moment.

“But you’ll have to come live with me.”

A/N: - Reader's technique is basically Angel's, but turned up tenfold. Or: this is an Asta situation. We'll dive deeper into her abilities in the future! - When I write reader inserts, I like to make sure anyone can insert themselves (duh) in the story regardless of appearance (or regardless of the shitton of lore i give my mc's lol). Which may be a bit of a problem since Jujutsu is pretty much a Japan only thing with VERY rare exceptions, and I like to keep stuff lore accurate. SO, it's a small detail, but I wanted to make it kinda implied that reader is biracial. The country overseas she lived will keep unspecified, you can fill in the blanks if you want. Or don't if you don't want!! Whatever!! It's up to you!!! ("oh but mori is a japanese name" yeah but i wouldn't name her family idk MACKENZIE either lol you get it right?? yeah i know you get it you're smart) ANYWAYS!!! Feedback is MUCHHH appreciated as usual!! If you read it this far pls don't forget to leave a comment <3 See you!

[kimvvantae]

Weak Point; 1

⤕ It's crazy how life can turn upside down overnight. In your case, life took a 180º turn the morning you discovered you were the weakness of the most powerful creature in the world.

From a normal citizen, you become Jujutsu Society's most coveted target. In a world where everyone wants your head on a silver platter, plagued by secrets of the past and struggling to balance what remains of your “normal” life, you are trapped in a situation you cannot escape.

And yet - amid the chaos, you slowly realize that you might be his weak point in ways that have nothing to do with sorcery.

pairing: gojo x (f) reader

genre: romance, fluff and humor, angst, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, "oh no we have to live in the same house" trope, fix-it fic (kinda)

warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (in future parts), grief, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit language, me trying to be funny

rating: 18+

word count: 9k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!! First of all, thank you so much for giving this fic a chance!! - This self-indulgent mess starts a little before JJK 0. - Reader is roughly a year younger than Gojo. - We're gonna dig HEAVILY into grief, especially deceased parents, so beware if this is a sensitive topic for you! - This is an afab!reader situation, so no specific physical traits will be described. I am giving you a nickname tho, because I'd rather eat shit than pollute my text with "Y/N" ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) - And as usual, English is not my first language. Enjoy!! <3

⤕ Masterlist: soon! ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

It was a shift like any other before the kidnapping happened.

The emergency room is never a calm environment, of course, let alone of a big city. But the previous night, it felt that the gates of hell opened in the grounds of the Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital. It was that type of shift that let nurses with their hairs disheveled and eyes widened and doctors running from side to side and the endless noise of stretcher’s wheels around the halls and ambulance sirens and for fuck’s sake the coffee machine is broken again I will kill myself.

A shift like any other. Yeah.

There were two car crashes. Or three. You stopped counting after the third exposed fracture. A big festival happened in Shinjuku – or something like that – which always results in drunk people doing drunk people atrocities. There were a few cases of alcohol-induced coma, too, and a couple guys needing stitches on their faces because they got into fist fights. Also two heart attacks? Some old lady fell down the stairs of her home.

Yeah. Yeah, there was a lot of stuff happening at the same time.

Maybe that’s why you were so inattentive, that morning. The clocks marked 8AM; the sun had risen above the city and you hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe it was the coffee’s fault (or the lack of it, since the machine broke sometime past midnight). Or the energy drinks. Or the full pack of cigarettes you smoked. Or the salad you ate hours ago. Uh. There were a lot of things going on with you, actually, and not very professional on your part, but it was your second 24 hour shift that week, and you hadn’t really slept between the shifts, which meant you’d been awake for… huh… twenty hours straight?

Dad would’ve killed me if he knew, you thought.

Dad. Maybe you should’ve listened to your dad back then, when he said you should pick another specialty. A cardiologist like him, probably. Or a gynecologist. Some area that would allow you to work in a calm clinic, with a much higher salary and a more reasonable lifestyle.

It’s what anyone would want, of course, after years and years of studying: a respectable profession that gives you tons of money. But you weren’t like dad. You needed that adrenaline, and you needed the cigarettes and the coffee and the energy drinks, and you needed to be so overworked that your brain wouldn’t stop for a second to think about that other thing.

July 18th, 2017 – your phone screen showed. You only survived the 17th thanks to all of that.

Which didn’t mean your brain wasn’t reduced to jelly inside your skull at that point, of course.

“You look like you’re on cocaine.”

Remi stared at you with a mix of judging and concern in her eyes. She sat behind the nurse’s counter, while you leaned on it in front of her.

“I don’t.” You shrugged and took one more sip of the warm water from the plastic cup. Remi tightener her eyes.

“Your pupils are two black wholes. You look insane right now.”

“I’m fine.”

“How many energy drinks did you take?” Her perfect eyebrow quirked up.

“Not many.”

“This alone implies you had more than one. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

You shrugged again, half of your face hidden behind the plastic cup.

“Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed.

You weren’t annoyed at her. Remi was the responsible one, and you were the reckless one. This was your dynamic. It worked well. And she couldn’t really judge you, not while you spent the night in the seventh ring of hell while she spent her shift in the calm, silent inpatient unit.

“I’d rather be actually high right now, to be honest.” You admitted quietly. Remi nodded. She put some strands of honey blonde hair behind her ear delicately.

“Yeah. Me too.” Not so responsible. “Keito-kun was in Shinjuku… he sent me many photos.” A pout slowly took for in her lips. “He had invited me, you know. We were supposed to be there together.”

You tightened your eyes slowly.

“I thought you had stopped talking to him.”

“That was past week, darling. Things change.”

“Right.” Yeah, definitely not very responsible.

“But that’s not the point. The summer festival looked so fun! And there were so many hot guys there, too…”

“But weren’t you supposed to be there with Keito-kun?”

“I can multitask.”

You cackled. She followed. It was probably the first time you smiled that day.

You opened Mayu’s contact impatiently again. She had chosen some anime boy as her current icon. You tapped your index finger over the counter, trying to ignore the fact that your hands were shaking a bit.

“Mayu’s not answering me.” You mumbled. Remi typed something on her computer, not bothering to lift her eyes to you.

“It’s 8AM on a Saturday. No normal person is awake at this hour.”

“I think she went to Shinjuku behind my back.”

Remi pursed her lips and hummed. “...It’s the type of thing I would do as a teenager.”

“Me too.”

“So you can’t really judge her, can you?”

“Well, I’m supposed to be the responsible one now, aren’t I?” You didn’t plan on sounding exasperated all of sudden, and you didn’t plan on making your breathing get faster or your eyes widening, and maybe Remi was right, maybe you did look like someone on cocaine, and maybe you should really stop with the energy drinks – oh shit stop stop stop. One thought at a time. One thought at a time.

“Oh, come on. Even if she went there, Mayu is pretty level headed for her age. Much more than I was. I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s sleeping right now and you’re overreacting.”

Yeah. Maybe. You’d call Aunt Junko later to make sure she actually slept there instead of sneaking out (Aunt Junko wasn’t that great with messaging apps. You had bought her a new phone, but she only knew how to accept and decline calls). But how could you not be anxious and overreact if yesterday was that day?

You knew – Mayu wasn’t as affected as you were. She was way too young when everything happened, after all. But still, now that most of the craziness of past night was slowly leaving your system, you felt guilt slowly grow inside of you. Was it a bit selfish to choose to work a shift in such a date? What if she was upset that you left her alone?

July 18th, the notification bar showed. Yesterday, July 17th.

July 17th.

Shit. Stop thinking about that other thing. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To not think about it. So don’t think about it. It was yesterday anyway. It’s over.

Remi yawned.

“When are you leaving?”

“At nine thirty.” You groaned and massaged your own forehead. “Shit. Just remembered I’ll have to go home by subway.”

“Thank God, I wouldn’t let you drive in this state.” She tightened her eyes at you again. It was funny to see her going mom mode, even though she didn’t have children. “You should take better care of your health, girl. An ER doctor trying to have a heart attack? You’ll enter this hospital as a patient one of these days!”

You nodded tiredly. “I know. My bad.”

To be fair, usually you wouldn’t be so reckless. In a normal day, just plain caffeine and a few breaks to smoke would carry you through a full shift smoothly. It’s just that… it wasn’t a normal day. But you didn’t have it in you to try to justify yourself, because if you tried, you’d have to talk about that other thing, and you didn’t want to do it.

Before any of you could say anything, the soft ring of an electronic bell caught your attention. You tiptoed over the counter to see the panel of alarm lights. The little light from Room 32 glowed in green.

“Mrs. Hamazaki’s room.” Remi sighed and got up from her chair, sending you a pleading look. “I know you’re on your break, but can you cover me for a while? Just until Misa-san comes back. If a patient calls, dial downstairs… but she should be back in five minutes.”

You still had thirteen minutes left. Technically you shouldn’t, but you decided to shrug and walk to the other side of the counter anyway. “Sure.”

Remi patted your shoulder as you settled on her chair and put the stethoscope around her neck, disappearing down the quiet hallway towards Room 32.

Quiet. Real quiet, here.

You sighed, suddenly feeling an invisible weight worth tons over your shoulders. Sleep was finally starting to take space inside your head. Just the thought that you still had to take the subway – even for just a few stations –, shower, eat something and probably scold Mayu for going to Shinjuku (you knew her too well) made you feel tired.

But it’s fine. You’d have the next three days off, thanks to the two consecutive shifts you took.

You placed your phone standing over the desk, balancing it on the computer screen, and opened the front camera – just to immediately regret it. Jesus Christ, you really looked insane; your hair looked like a bird’s nest, dark circles under your eyes, your lips were chapped (you were so sure Mayu stole your lip balm)… everything about you was wrong. You immediately untied the loose bun and tied it again, trying to make your hair look at least a little more presentable. A small part of your brain tried to remember the last time you wore something nice, went to a hair salon or put makeup beyond just some soft mascara and blush… it was two months ago, maybe. Or three.

Fuck.

That’s the life you chose, right?

Nine minutes to the end of your break.

An annoying, familiar sound caught your attention. You frowned and got up to peek from over the counter.

Disgust immediately set in your stomach.

Other than the broken coffee machine or the new nurse that took ages to get a single blood sample or that old man that yelled at you because his case was sooo much worse than a car crash victim (he just had back pain) or the paramedic that gave you he wrong prognosis or the drunk patient flirting with you or that test result that arrived two hours late, that fucking thing on the floor was what made you truly feral the entire shift.

Except – you couldn’t sneak into the inpatients unit to complain about it with Remi, because apparently, no one else could see it.

It’s not as if you weren’t used to it. In fact, you were so used to it that you could fully ignore it, because that’s what adults do. Oh, you’re seeing a creature that looks straight out of Silent Hill? No, you’re fucking not. No one else is seeing it, so I’m not seeing it either.

It was also very unprofessional to be showing clear signs of schizophrenia and not being brave enough to confess it to a psychiatrist, sure. But it wasn’t a today thing. It was an always thing, because you’d always seen these things, and it was already so familiar that it didn’t shock you anymore. Maybe you could’ve done something about it when you were a kid, but now? At your big age? As you were so close to completing your residency? Fuck no.

This one wasn’t even as gruesome as the others you’d seen. But hell, how annoying it was.

“Chuuuuu…” the creepy little thing moaned. It looked like a rat – an obese, hairless, in advanced state of decomposition rat; its legs were too short and thin for the rest of the body, hence why it moved around slowly, dragging itself on the cool floor. And shit, it smelled so bad; its stench immediately overwhelmed the usual smell of antiseptic of the hall.

That fucking thing.

It kept chuuuu-ing in your ear the entire shift. It wandered around the ER room, and you crossed its slow path many times, trying to not look too insane as you avoided stepping on it. Even when you were far from it, you’d still hear the chuuuuuu and it was making you go nuts.

Again. Maybe it was the date or your maniacal mental state that made you so bothered with it. You’d see these things almost weekly at the hospital; they were all irritating, but they were also small and easy to ignore. You’d encountered far worse before. Yet, you just couldn’t stand it this time.

“Chuuuuuuu…” it repeated again. You grimaced.

“Shut the fuck up,” you finally hissed in something between a whisper and a yell, because you’d been holding back this entire time and now there was no one to witness you cussing at nothing.

Seven minutes to the end of your break.

The fucking thing looked at you.

It moved its hairless head slowly in your direction. Its eyes were white and empty. It… it lifted its head to look at you.

You froze in place.

You were looking at it, and it was looking back. It was looking. It was seeing.

That was new.

The thing screeched.

Like a rodent in a trap, but angrier. It… it looked angry, now. Its fat face retorted, exposing a set of sharp teeth, drool dripping from its mouth.

That was also new.

It changed directions. Before, it was crawling down the hallway; now, it crawled towards the counter – much faster than it was before. Towards you.

That was also very new.

“What the fuck?” You whispered, looking to your sides; the hallway was still empty. Your hallucinations were trying to attack you now? Shit, what if Remi was right and you were actually high? What if someone spiked your energy drink? Where the hell was that Misa-san she talked about? There’s no way– no way you’d deal with that alone.

The rat thing crawled closer. Closer. You got up from the chair.

“Shoo,” you tried, feeling a mix of urgency and disgust and sheer embarrassment because hey, were you trying to shoo a mutant rat that apparently only existed in your head?! You looked to your sides again, over the counter, waiting for anyone to appear – but the hallway was still dead empty.

It crossed the counter, screeching angrily. You stepped back and almost hit your back on a cabinet behind you. “Go away!” You whispered again. It only caused it to screech louder.

The thing opened and closed its jaws, biting the air around your feet. It was trying to bite you.

“No!” You tiptoed, trying to avoid it. The thing screeched so loud that it hurt your eardrums. It aimed at your ankles; its teeth were dead sharp, and it was drooling, and it was so much more disgusting from up close, and it smelled of rotten flesh, and it was going to bite your ankles, and– and–

“No!”

You stomped on it.

The thing exploded.

Its insides splashed around your right foot like it was nothing but a balloon filled with water, but instead of water it was purple rotten slime. You stood there, paralyzed, staring at your foot, the rat’s guts splashed on the floor – when suddenly, right before your eyes, its remains started to vaporize in black dust.

And then, in less than 5 seconds, there was only purple blood.

Or you thought that was blood.

That was all very fucking new.

“Ew!” A visceral disgusted groan erupted from your throat. You looked around again frantically (No one! Where the hell was that Misa-san girl?!), not knowing if you wished someone would see this or thankful that no one witnessed you murdering a… uh… rat? Rodent?

You were feeling its warm blood drip down your ankles and inside your socks, staining your white tennis shoe and the hem of your navy blue pants. That thing was real.

“Ew! Ew!” You whispered again. You hopped on one foot towards the paper towels on the wall, taking as many as you could and wiping the blood from your shoe the best way you could. I’m gonna get rabies, the thought crossed your mind, spiking your panic. I’m gonna get mutant rabies. I need to disinfect this. Disinfectant! Shit, I killed a wild animal or whatever that thing was– but I wasn’t expecting it to fucking implode like that! How did it get inside the hospital anyway?! Should I call animal control? How am I going to explain this–

“Excuse me?”

You yelped and turned around in a jump.

There was a boy.

He stood on the other side of the counter, eyeing you with a slight frown. His hair was a gracious mess of spiked black strands; he wore a plain white t-shirt and jeans. His eyelashes were ridiculously long (in a jealous tone), contrasting with his pale white skin.

Oh. Ooooh.

You eyed the identification sticker glued to the right side of his chest (remembering names is not a doctor’s forte).

“Oh. Hello, Fushiguro-kun. Good morning.” You swiftly threw the dirty tissues in the trash can under the counter, away from his eyesight. “How can I help you?”

Technically you shouldn’t help him because this was not your area and that Misa-san girl should be here already, but not only were you trying to not look so awkward and not let a visitor know you had just killed a wild animal inside the hospital – you had a soft spot for him. Everyone had, to be honest.

“Good morning, Mori-san.” You noticed how he didn’t look at your ID badge, he just remembered your name. Such a good kid. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that… I thought I heard something.”

Great.

“Really? Heard what?”

Fushiguro tightened his eyes again. Why did he look so suspicious?

“Something strange.”

Greeeat. The boy heard me stomp on a wild animal. Fantastic.

“Must’ve been outside, I guess. It’s really silent here.” Years of calming hysterical patients made you perfect the ability of offering a calm, unsuspecting smile. “Can I help you with anything else?”

Which was something stupid to ask twice, because there was nothing you could help him with… and you had tried before.

You first met Fushiguro back in April.

It was your shift when his older sister, Fushiguro Tsumiki, was admitted to the hospital.

She came unconscious in an ambulance with a shivering, panicked friend of hers, both wearing school uniforms. You didn’t remember the specifics, but they were out of school doing something they clearly shouldn’t when Tsumiki blacked out, in her friend’s words. Your first assumption was alcoholic coma, obviously, even though her friend denied it vehemently (what teenager wants to get caught drinking in school hours?). She also stated that Tsumiki hadn’t hit her head anywhere, which was true: there were no signs of concussion or any other injury anywhere in her body. No convulsion, drooling or bleeding. Her vital signs were perfectly fine. And yet, Tsumiki wouldn’t wake up.

Around an hour after she was admitted, Fushiguro arrived. You remember asking where their parents were, but he was so frenetic that you decided to explain the situation to him before they could come. You told Fushiguro about her health status. You explained that she was going through a tomography at that moment and she still had more exams to take, but despite the unconsciousness, she was stable.

Your shift ended. You went home. The sight of that lonely, scared teenager stuck with you – maybe because he reminded you of Mayu.

The next day, you discovered that Tsumiki had been transferred from the ER to the ICU. She was none of your business anymore. And yet, during your break, you decided to check her test results out of curiosity.

There were no signs of alcohol or drugs in her blood.

No concussion, aneurysm, tumor or stroke. Her brain was perfectly fine.

And yet – Tsumiki would not wake up.

You were always busy with patients. It was hard to keep track of each case, and after someone was transferred out of the ER, you usually didn’t have time to check on them. But that girl intrigued you (and pretty much the entire medical staff). She was not brain dead; instead, her brain was working on a low frequency, as if she was simply asleep.

An inexplicable coma?

The entire situation kept coming back to you, not just due to the sheer absurdity of it, but also because of the boy.

Fushiguro came to visit every day during the first month. Remi always talked about him. Other nurses talked about him, too, always in a heartbroken tone. You’d cross his path in the hospital sometimes, and when you did, you’d make sure to check on him.

Whenever you saw him, your heart tightened.

He did remind you too much of Mayu. It made you think of her in this state if you were hospitalized. It broke your heart even more after you learned they were orphans. The whole thing just hit too close to home.

It was one of these situations that made you wonder, if I had done something different when she arrived, would I have saved her?

These days, he visited the hospital once or twice a week, always alone – which made you genuinely worried for him, since he was orphaned. Who was taking care of that boy? You went as far as checking Tsumiki’s file again, only to note that they had a legal guardian (well, someone had to be paying for the medical expenses, right?). Remi explained that said legal guardian did visit her sometimes as well (and she didn’t forget to mention how hot he was, apparently), you just happened to never be there when he was.

Tsumiki was currently in a room down the hallway. The visiting hours started at 8 o’clock, and there he was, always punctual.

And still eyeing you with suspicion.

Boy, I like you, but you’re starting to piss me off right now.

“...No, thank you,” he finally said, stepping away slowly. “I guess it was nothing.” Fushiguro offered you a polite bow. “Excuse me. Have a good job.”

You watched him walk out of the inpatients unit through the door.

Only then did you breathe again.

Three minutes to the end of your break.

Shit. You were going to get late. Where the fuck was Misa-san?! In fact, where was everybody in this goddamn ward?! You rushed to grab the phone and dialed the infirmary extension, ready to yell at someone, taping your fingertips over the desk impatiently. You’d have to explain yourself about the mutant rodent later – and you wouldn’t bother to clean that blood, not after Misa-san pissed you off by being late. Is no one going to pick it up?!

Two minutes to the end of your break.

The soft ring of an electronic bell.

Great. Fantastic.

You eyed the panel of alarms over the desk angrily. I don’t even know who Misa-san is, but I already hate her.

But then – you froze.

The alarm light was glowing in red. Emergency.

Over each alarm, there were stickers with the names of the patients occupying the rooms.

Room 39.

Fushiguro Tsumiki.

Your stomach dropped.

You put the phone down and ran down the hallway.

Is this really happening? Is it a mistake? What if the alarm is broken–? It didn’t matter. It didn’t even matter that you were going to get late and that this wasn’t your job. That was Tsumiki, and her brother had just left the room barely a minute ago. What if a miracle had just happened?! You’d still have time to run after him to tell him the news!

Room 39 was at the end of the corridor. Without a second thought, you barged in.

You were greeted by darkness.

The curtains were closed. Barely any light from outside reached the room. You tattered the wall, searching for the switch. It didn’t turn the lights on.

But you could still see the outline of her body.

Laying on the hospital bed. The covers up to her chest. Sleeping peacefully.

And for a second, you thought it really was just a mistake; the alarm went off on its own for some reason.

Until you saw someone holding the button.

It was dark; you couldn’t really see. But your body felt it. Your senses. You felt it, with something primitive and instinctive inside of you, felt it with your soul.

There was something terribly, terribly, terribly wrong happening.

And it was like the world outside of that small hospital room didn’t exist anymore. You couldn’t hear anything behind that door; only the darkness that surrounded you, and the cold – it was freezing cold – creeping up your legs and arms like frost. Your lungs failed. Adrenaline pumped in your veins. You didn’t want to turn your back to that thing, because your instincts knew that was a bad idea. And yet, you knew you had to run.

You turned the doorknob in a swift motion.

But it was already too late.

You had time to feel an icy cold hand grip around your wrist.

Then – darkness.

Megumi felt himself fill with anger as he waited for The Idiot.

He tapped his foot nervously, bit his fingernails even more nervously. He’d been trying to stop with this habit, but these days it felt nearly impossible. Not after everything that had been happening.

And certainly not after what happened an hour ago.

Which is what made him angrier. At himself.

Because he didn’t feel that presence until it was too late.

Megumi was inside the elevator, making his way to the ground floor of the hospital, when he felt that. The undeniable, chilling cursed energy – so strong that he could feel it from the other side of the building; it appeared suddenly, made the hairs in the nape of his neck rise, made his eyes widen and his heartbeat spike. Made him press the floor button angrily as if it’d make the elevator change directions out of nowhere.

Then came the explosion.

It shook the entire hospital. It cut the energy. It made him get stuck alone in the elevator for solid three minutes. It took him another three to run upstairs.

But it was already too late.

The cursed energy had disappeared, but not the immense hole on the wall that it – whatever it was – created in broad daylight.

Inside his sister’s room.

Panic filled the entire complex building. He heard people yelling, running, nurses rushing to get patients out of the ward, the distant sound of sirens. There was no fire, however – what created that hole on the wall wasn’t normal. All of that was a blur inside Megumi’s mind.

A hole. Cursed energy. Something inside Tsumiki’s room, minutes after he left.

She was unharmed. Some debris hit her cheek, but other than a small bruise, she was “fine”. That didn’t calm him.

What just happened? Why it happened? Why her?

The hospital was packed with police, firefighters and reporters now. As expected, lawyers already tried to talk to him (desperate for him not to sue them), but it was no use talking to a minor. They wanted his legal guardian.

The Idiot.

If he even felt like coming, that was.

There’s no way he’s not coming, Megumi tried to calm himself. This isn’t just because of Tsumiki. Something strange happened here. He needs to check.

Though – maybe there was a tiny part of him wishing he wouldn’t come…

Well. That was too late.

The familiar black sedan peeked around the corner.

And there he was.

The Idiot walked out of the car with his usual nonchalant posture, holding an opened chocolate Pocky pack. Megumi half expected him to immediately hit him with a joke, or scolding passed as a joke, or downplay the situation–

But The Idiot looked in the direction of the East ward and hummed.

Megumi couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew the man was frowning.

Great. So he knows I’m not overreacting.

“Scandalous, heh?” The Idiot mumbled as he stepped closer. “Too many people here. I don’t like it.”

Ijichi walked out of the car as well, looking nervous as usual. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose while typing something on his phone. “Should I notify the school?”

“Yep.” The Idiot put a Pocky in his mouth.

He walked towards the reception, not waiting for anyone. Megumi saw Ijichi about to say something else – probably that The Idiot shouldn’t get involved before Jujutsu High took responsibility over the case –, but he kind of had permission to do whatever he wanted, so Ijichi stopped himself and pressed the phone on his ear with a sigh of defeat.

Megumi followed him inside the hospital shortly.

“What do you think it was?”

The Idiot shrugged. “Dunno. Gotta take a closer look.” Normal people weren’t allowed to walk in, but he simply ignored it. “Is Tsumiki okay?”

“Yes. She was taken to another room.”

He nodded while chewing. Megumi wanted to believe that The Idiot felt relieved upon hearing that, even though he had already said Tsumiki’s condition through the phone… but it was hard to tell.

“So, let me rewind it…” Megumi rushed to follow him into the elevator. “You were right here… and didn’t feel anything wrong?”

Megumi felt his ears get warm. He hated being reprimanded by The Idiot, and he hated failing, and he hated that it would give The Idiot material to tease him about it. The elevator doors closed.

“I did feel something strange… but…”

“You thought it was nothing?” The Idiot crossed his arms and pouted. “You let your critical thinking overrun your gut? C’mon, Megumi. I’m disappointed.”

“You can’t judge me. This hospital is infested with Grade 4 curses. You know it.”

“Oh, but I can judge you.” The Idiot pointed at him with a Pocky. Despite his words, his tone wasn’t harsh – it was carefree as usual, and perhaps that pissed Megumi even more. “You told me you were taking care of the weakling curses. You said everything was under control, isn’t it? Boooo.” He flicked Megumi’s forehead, which made him inflate with even more anger. The Idiot pouted like a child and stepped away from him, pressing the pack of Pockys over his chest protectively. “Don’t look at me like that. I ain’t giving you any.”

“I don’t want your stupid–”

Ding. The elevator doors opened. The Idiot walked out before Megumi could finish the sentence.

As expected, the hallway was packed with policemen and firefighters. The door leading to the inpatients unit was protected by Keep Out yellow tapes, but The Idiot simply lifted it over his head and walked in.

A guard from the hospital immediately intercepted him. “Sir, this area is forbidden…”

And maybe the fact that he was two heads shorter than The Idiot made his confidence deflate, or the off-putting blindfold, or the simple fact that The Idiot had this strange way of acting like he owned anywhere he walked into and it always made people question themselves. Megumi had seen this same reaction countless times before. The guard cleared his throat and made an effort to broaden his shoulders.

“Sir, you may not enter the area unless authorized. I must ask who you are.”

“Oh. Right.” The Idiot had the decency to shove the Pockys inside the pocket of his jacket, at least. His tone was a mix of nonchalance and passive aggressiveness as usual. “You were looking for this little guy’s legal guardian. Here I am. The legal guardian.” He patted Megumi on the shoulder rather aggressively. “His legal guardian and of the girl who almost blew up inside your hospital, you know.”

The guard went pale.

A middle-aged man wearing a suit nearby observed the conversation and rushed nearer. Megumi recognized him – one of the hospital’s lawyers. He pressed his hands together and smiled nervously.

“Eh, you must be Gojo-san, isn’t it? It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’ve been waiting for your arrival–”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The Idiot kept walking.

Megumi followed. The nervous lawyer followed, too.

The nearer they got to the room at the end of the corridor, the more people gathered. The Idiot towered over all of them, making his way unhurriedly while the lawyer babbled. As he stood in front of Room 39’s open doors, a policeman tried to stop him, but the lawyer hushed:

“This man can end our hospital’s reputation. Please, let him take a look.”

The policeman let him step inside. Megumi followed.

The Idiot whistled.

“What a mess.”

Megumi’s stomach dropped. The wall that faced outside was destroyed; the steel beams were retorted, the concrete cracked even on the ceiling. A hole with a diameter of at least three meters.They still had to verify if the structure of that part of the building had the risk of completely crumbling, though Megumi doubted it. Now, the view to the hospital’s back gardens and the street just ahead was totally visible.

To know that Tsumiki laid right there when whatever or whoever caused this much destruction was… to know that the debris could’ve caused her much more harm… Tsumiki, asleep, defenseless…

The man beside him hummed and held his chin. In moments like this, Megumi wished he could see through his eyes.

“Sloppy work. There’s residue all over the place.”

“So… you don’t think this is the work of a curse?”

“Nope.”

Megumi’s worst suspicions.

Curse users.

Whoever was behind this was intelligent. Had intent. So maybe… maybe Tsumiki’s condition had intent behind it, too…

“I just don’t get why Tsumiki was unharmed.” The Idiot said. “Why draw this much attention if you’re going to leave her behind?”

Megumi had been asking himself this the entire time. It didn’t make any sense.

He sighed and crossed his arms. “Well. I guess keeping her here isn’t safe anymore. Though I don’t think Shoko will be okay with moving her to the school…”

Megumi knew that. Jujutsu High didn’t have the necessary staff or equipment to accommodate a patient in coma; that’s why Tsumiki was in this hospital in the first place. They already knew that her problem couldn’t be solved by normal doctors. She just needed a place to be properly taken care of until they found a solution.

“C’mon. Where is Tsumiki now? Gonna take a look at her.” The Idiot turned around. Megumi frowned and followed.

“What about the cursed energy residue?”

“Just the usual. We gotta track it.” The Idiot shrugged and walked down the hallway back to where they came from. The middle-aged lawyer approached again, babbling about how he was so eager to sit down with him and settle the situation extrajudicially (Megumi wanted to punch him on the face. His sister could’ve died and all he cared about was not getting sued?!). Said lawyer got pale when The Idiot absently handed him a simple black business card and told him to talk to his lawyers (plural), as he had no time in his schedule.

They waited for the elevator. The Idiot started chewing his Pockys again, humming a tune and tapping his foot to the rhythm.

Megumi hated that.

How he couldn’t even pretend to be worried for Tsumiki.

That was when another voice caught his attention.

“You’re not listening to me, sir.”

“I am listening, ma’am.”

“Then why are none of you taking action?! I spent the last hour explaining the same thing!”

“And I have already explained how the protocol works–”

“I am telling you that my friend was taken!”

Ding. The elevator doors opened.

Megumi walked to the other end of the corridor instead. The Idiot tilted his head to the side, calling his name, but he ignored it.

That was Yoshida Remi. The blonde nurse responsible over this floor’s inpatients unit. Megumi already knew her well at this point. He noticed how her forehead had a small bruise, and there were band-aids over her forearms; she was hurt by the explosion? Her hair was disheveled, her face pale, and her expression a mix of concern and frustration. An unwilling policeman stood in front of her, looking like he just wanted to get rid of the situation.

“In fact, Yoshida-san, you have failed to explain exactly what happened.”

She gripped her own hair and groaned. “I… I already told you! She was taken!”

“By who?”

“I…”

The policeman sighed and made an appeasing gesture with his palms turned to her. “I understand you must be in shock, ma’am, after witnessing an explosion. I believe it’s best for you to calm down first and organize your thoughts.”

“My thoughts are organized! My colleague works here and she’s nowhere to be found!”

“Have you tried calling her?”

“I already said– I told you that I got her phone!” The nurse almost scrubbed a phone on the policeman’s face, shaking it angrily in his direction. “How could I call her?!”

“Excuse me, officer.”

Megumi turned his head to see The Idiot approaching as well.

He touched the policeman’s shoulder and opened a small smile. “I’ll take it from here.”

Anyone normal would question the guy with the blindfold, but the officer was visibly so tired of that situation that he decided to simply nod and escape.

The nurse was taken aback. “Fushiguro-kun? You’re still here?” He saw a load of guilt cross her face. “I am so sorry for what happened to your sister. You have checked on her already, right? Fortunately, she was unscathed…”

“Yes. Yes, I saw her.” Megumi nodded.

The Idiot stepped closer. “What were you talking about? Your colleague was taken?”

Yoshida Remi’s eyes traveled to The Idiot – and at the same rate she was visibly confused by the blindfold, she also blushed. Megumi tried not to roll his eyes. “Gojo-san? I-I didn’t know you were an officer.”

“Yeah.” The Idiot smiled, not bothering to deny it. “So? Can you explain to me exactly what you saw?”

She dropped her eyes and frowned; the nurse was so, so, so visibly confused. “I-I… I’m not really sure of what I saw. But I saw. I heard a noise coming from Fushiguro-san’s room, so I went there to check it, and…” She scratched her head nervously. “I saw someone, or something, grab my friend and take her away. Then the explosion came and I’m even less sure of what happened, but…” She looked up again with frantic, widened eyes. “But she disappeared! I looked for her everywhere! Look, her phone was left behind, and I found her badge on the floor, too…”

Megumi’s eyes widened.

“It was Mori-san?”

She nodded. “Yes! You remember her, don’t you?!”

Of course Megumi remembered her. He saw her just minutes before the explosion happened… and she looked suspicious…

Surprisingly, The Idiot took the ID badge from the nurse’s hand and looked down at it.

His smile had vanished.

So had his nonchalant posture.

“Megumi.” The black haired boy frowned at his tone – lower? More serious? “Let’s go.”

He also took the phone from the nurse’s hand and turned around without explaining anything.

“What? Are you making a police report?”

The Idiot threw her a thumbs up without looking back. “Yep! No worries!”

Megumi bowed at the confused blonde nurse politely before running after him. “Where are we going?!”

“We’re going to solve a kidnapping, silly. Ain’t it obvious?” He flicked Megumi’s temple again to his utmost anger. Luckily, the elevator’s doors were already opened, so both rushed in. The black sedan and Ijichi were waiting in the same spot.

“Good news, though.” The Idiot said while chewing more Pocky. “I don’t think this had anything to do with Tsumiki at all.”

“What…?”

The Idiot, as usual, did not elaborate.

Surprisingly, he sat on the passenger’s seat instead of the backseats, which for some reason made Ijichi sweat. While Megumi adjusted his seatbelt, Ijichi asked nervously:

“Where to next, Gojo-san?”

The Idiot hummed.

With his thumb, he pushed the black blindfold up to his forehead, exposing his right eye. His cyan iris seemed to glow faintly.

“...Hmm… Sanya, I guess.” He put the blindfold back in place and excitedly reached for the radio, immediately turning it up to an obnoxious volume. “I’m not picking any of your boring songs, Ijichi!”

The driver shivered.

One day, Megumi would land a much deserving punch on his face.

It was freezing.

All of your senses were slow as consciousness awakened again. No hearing, no seeing, no smelling or tasting. But you could feel that it was cold.

The second thing you could feel was your teeth chattering.

The third, a discomfort on the entire left side of your body: you were laying on a hard floor. Your neck hurt from the way your head hung.

The fourth was the fact that you couldn’t move.

You could feel your limbs, but there was no strength to them, as if the cable that connected your brain to your limbs was ripped off. Your body was useless.

That’s when panic started to settle in.

What the fuck was going on?!

Finally, you could see again.

The place was dimly lit by… candles? That was it, probably, judging by the way shadows flickered on the walls. Each breath of yours produced small clouds of steam. It was a relatively large room; the concrete floor under your body was wet. The place smelled like a butcher shop. Were you inside a meat locker? That should be it, judging by how stupidly cold it was. With your peripheral vision, you could see that there was a plastic curtain somewhere in the corner.

Your teeth chattered, but that was an involuntary motion. You could move your eyeballs and that was it. The rest of your body – numb.

A million thoughts per minute rushed in your head. A spinal fracture? Had you completely lost movement?

You were laying in fetal position: leg to leg, arm to arm. You tried your best to look down…

You were… mummified?

That was the only description. There was… paper wrapped around your body. Yellowed paper, old looking, with inscriptions that you couldn’t really recognize. From what you could see, only your head was free from it.

Panic really really really settled in.

Oh my fucking God. What is happening?! Where am I?! What happened– wait, try to remember. Try to remember. I was working. I was in the hospital. I stepped on a weird looking rat. My break was close to ending. I rushed to a room because the alarm was on and– and– what happened after that?! What–?

You heard steps.

It made your heartbeat spike up.

Shit. Shit. Oh my God. Oh my God. I was kidnapped.

It was more than one pair of feet – two or three people? You couldn’t be sure, as you couldn’t fucking move your head to see it, but the noise clearly came from over that plastic curtain. Low male voices. It made violent shivers run your entire body.

Fear. Fear. Fear. You were frightened. A type of fear you’d never experienced before. It was visceral, colder than the temperature, scarier than any weird creature you’d seen before. You were in an actually dangerous situation and you couldn’t even form a coherent thought.

I’m being trafficked I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m–

The second little person living inside your head slaps the first little person on the face. Shut up!! Focus! Try to think of a way out!!

A window–?! You couldn’t turn your head to see if there was one. If this really was a meat locker, there shouldn’t be any. A familiar sound?! Cars outside–?! Nothing. The only things you could hear were the low voices of the unknown men nearby and a constant quiet buzz. A board?! A flyer?! Anything that might tell you where you are–?! Nothing to see on your field of view.

The first little person living inside your head starts freaking out again. I don’t know where I am I don’t know how long I’ve been knocked out I might be paraplegic I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die—

You’re not being useful!, the second little person yells, making the first little person recoil and shiver. You’ve watched these true crime documentaries! The probability of living if you don’t take action now are less than 10%! Do something now that we have a chance!

Right right right. They still hadn’t noticed that you were awake; you could only hope there was no one watching you from behind where you couldn’t see. You’d have to take advantage of this before anyone crossed the curtains.

You could feel your limbs and the pain and the discomfort, so a spinal fracture was less likely. Maybe they had anesthetized you and the effects were beginning to dissipate? What sort of anesthetic was that, by the way, to render anyone in this state? Gosh— if it really was general anesthesia, you were lucky to be alive to begin with.

Try to move. It felt silly to try to mechanically do something a body does on the automatic. You focused your senses on your left feet; the strange blood of the mutant rat had dried in your sock, becoming some sort of crust you could feel very well. You could feel that the shoelace was less tight than on the right foot. Try to move. Try to move. A spasm. A wiggle. Anything. Anything.

But nothing moved.

No matter how hard you tried.

Your breath became irregular and difficult as real, real, real panic spread through your system.

I am going to die.

Both little people inside your head were screaming now.

I can’t move. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know who these people are. I don’t know what they’re gonna do. I don’t have a way out. I don’t have an escape plan. I can’t contact anyone. I am going to die I am going to die I am going to die I am going to die I am going to die I am going to—

Mayu.

The two little people shut up abruptly.

Mayu.

Fourteen year old Mayu, waiting for you to come home. Acting nonchalant at first but then getting really worried when you don’t pick up or text back. Mayu, going back to Aunt Junko’s house, not knowing what to do. Mayu, Mayu-chan, Mayuka, lonely and frightened the way you saw Fushiguro Megumi the evening that his older sister was brought in.

Mayu.

You couldn’t allow anyone to kill you.

You couldn’t just leave her behind.

Another feeling grew inside of you, spread like fire on hay; made the two little people run and hide. Overwhelmed the fear quickly.

Anger.

Who the fuck these men thought they were to kidnap you?! What right did they have?!

Anger mixed with frustration pumped even more adrenaline through your bloodstream; tears welled up your eyes, tightened your throat. I can’t be dragged around like a garbage bag! I can’t allow it! I have to do something!

USELESS BODY!! DO!! SOMETHING!!

It started like a point of heat — right in your heart.

You didn’t know what that was. For a brief second, you thought it was cardiac arrest — that’s probably what it’d feel like. It was hot, piping hot, made your blood boil, your vision blur in white; it spread through your skin, from your toes to your scalp. It was heat, it was energy, it was anger—

It was fire.

It was black. The flames — they were black; they enveloped your body, and it took a second to understand that this was not your imagination; you were in flames. You’d have screamed if you could. It took you another second, however, to realize that these flames weren’t burning you… not exactly.

They set the papers that wrapped your body on fire.

You watched in utter disbelief as the inscriptions on the papers seemed to glow for a moment before burning down to ashes.

All of that happened in less than ten seconds.

The black fire extinguished as if it’d never been there in the first place.

The strange yellowed paper that once enveloped your body — gone.

And all of sudden — you could move.

The cable was reconnected.

You got up in a jump; your limbs ached and you felt dizzy, but somehow managed to keep your balance. Your heart pounded in your chest, you gasped for air as if you’d been underwater, your fingers were shaking, you felt a terrible headache— and on top of that, you were tired as if you’d ran a marathon.

None of that mattered. You could move. You could run.

You didn’t even have time to look around, however — because the curtains were opened.

There were three men.

They were all relatively tall. The one in the middle had long black hair, an ugly goatee and tattoos on his forearms. Their clothes were pretty unimpressive. They… didn’t look threatening, not exactly — the one in the middle looked like someone you’d have beaten up in middle school — but there was something in your gut yelling at you to be careful, that they represented danger you could not deal with. Not just because of the obvious fact that they were your kidnappers. Not even because the guy on the left had a fucking katana strapped to his hip.

It was that chilly, strange feeling that usually meant there was a creature nearby.

You’d never felt this for a person before.

The goatee guy hummed and measured you up and down.

“She broke the seals. You shoulda made sure these seals would work, huh, Hideki?” His voice was raspy. Was he talking like a stereotypical Yakuza member on purpose? Did he think he sounded cool doing that?

“Ain’t my fault. The seals were pretty tight.” The guy on the left replied. Why was he also talking like that?! He opened a smirk, exposing a set of the yellowest teeth you’d ever seen. “This only means she really is the one, right?”

“Uh-huh.” The goatee guy smirked too and caressed said goatee. “Just like they told us, aye?”

“This one’s gonna make us a ton of money.” The one on the right said with a stupidly high pitched voice.

“Who are you? Where am I?” You felt stupid — why would they answer? Why even ask in the first place? In fact — seals?! What were they talking about?!

“Knock her out again. And make better seals this time.” Goatee guy ignored you completely. The guy on the left stepped closer, which spiked your panic once again.

You could move now, but what difference did that make against three people? You were weak, standing pathetically, shaking from head to toe.

“No! No!” You yelled when he gripped your wrist and pulled you without any effort.

“No one’s gonna hear you. It’s useless.”

“Fuck you!”

You punched his face.

It was a sloppy, weak punch with your non-dominant hand — not enough to make him release you, but enough to make him angry.

He gripped your hair with his free hand and pulled aggressively; it felt like he was going to rip the strands off the scalp, making you scream again — in pain this time.

“Fucking bitch—“

And then you were on the ground.

And he was on the ground, too. And goatee guy. And the baby voice guy.

And everyone was on the ground, because the roof had exploded.

You didn’t have time to look up or scream or even properly register what the fuck had happened before you were shocked against the wet floor. It sounded like a bomb had dropped over your head, and concrete and steel cracked like paper, and the sound was deafening and disorienting and it felt like oxygen was sucked off your lungs, and just like that — in seconds — half of the roof and the wall were gone, and it was all white because— because— the sun is still up! The sun was up and your eyes weren’t used to the brightness, and there was dust in your mouth which made you cough, and your head hurt and you didn’t know what was happening— what—

What—

There was a guy.

And he was floating.

Your brain was overloaded with information. You had stepped on a mutant rat. You had been kidnapped. You spontaneously combusted in black flames. The place where you were exploded. And now—

There was a guy floating meters above you, from the immense hole caused by the explosion. Like, an actual person. Floating.

Your ears were buzzing, your eyes were still adjusting to the sudden sunlight; for some moments, all you could see was a silhouette. And for a second, one of the little people in your head breathed out in awe and disbelief: Jesus?

It wasn’t Jesus.

Jesus didn’t have white hair, as far as you knew.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, confused and disoriented, the extremely high pitched buzz still ringing in your ears; it felt that your head was underwater. Sounds were muffled. You didn’t really see the moment he — Albino Jesus? — got down, but all of sudden he was hovering over you — his torso leaning down to look at you closely, his feet on each side of you.

“Looking” was a bit of a stretch.

He was… blindfolded?

And grinning.

“Happy to see me?” His deep, lighthearted (?), excited voice reached your ears through the buzz. You couldn’t help but note how his teeth were so perfectly white, the complete opposite of katana guy.

“What—?” You managed to mumble somehow, still feeling the horrid taste of dust in your tongue.

“Nah, no need to get emotional. We ain’t got time for this.”

He offered his open hand in your direction, and for a moment you thought he was helping you to your feet… but you heard a strange zzuup, an inescapable attraction, and then suddenly you were off the ground without doing any effort – towards his palm. Your back was glued to it as if he was a magnet and you, a coin. You saw yourself weightless, floating beside his body.

You felt like a potato sack if potato sacks didn’t have weight.

No. A potato sack is too nice. He was carrying you like a dog.

Your stomach twirled.

You wanted to take a better look at his face (what was visible of it), but the three guys were up to their feet again and you went cold. What was worse: the three kidnappers, or floating Jesus?

However, their reactions took you completely off guard.

They took protective stances. Their expressions weren’t mocking or relaxed anymore… they were… scared?

Frightened, in fact.

“Oooh?” Floating Jesus hummed in that same excited tone again. His voice seemed to be naturally loud. “You want this nurse so bad that you’re willing to fight me for her?”

What?! I’m not a—

“This is fucked up, man,” baby voice guy stuttered. “It wasn’t on the contract that we’d have to face Gojo Satoru.”

Floating Jesus pointed his finger at baby voice guy.

“So you’re not willing to fight. At least someone’s honest!”

Your brain didn’t properly register what happened next, partly because it couldn’t believe it.

Space around baby voice guy’s body twisted; it was like looking at someone’s warped reflex on rippled water. But that wasn’t simply a warped reflex or an illusion. He yelled in pain, a yell that came from his guts — and you watched in real time as his arms and legs warped with the twisted space around him, heard the nauseating noise of his bones crushing in different angles, saw the blood splashing from his wounds and his body falling flat on the floor.

Your jaw dropped.

There was no time to let that image sink in. The other two guys ran in different directions – trying to flee.

Floating Jesus giggled.

Your stomach dropped with your jaw when he moved, dragging your weightless body along; fast fast fast, he moved too fast for your eyes to follow, making everything look like an incomprehensible blur. In the blink of an eye, he was floating again above countless roofs; it looked like a residential neighborhood — and you looked down, and you were too high, way too high, and he wasn’t even really holding you, your back was just glued to his palm and what if he dropped you— what if—

You screamed.

“Don’t shout in my ear, woman.” He whined.

“We’re gonna fall! We’re gonna—”

He had moved again.

You were closer to the street this time and at that point you wondered if your brain was lagging, because how the hell could you be in a spot in a second and in another spot a second later?! You found what he was looking for — katana guy, running down the street at a speed that didn’t even look human. And yet, it was still not match for Floating Jesus.

He stopped in front of katana guy.

“Boo.”

That thing happened again – warped space, warped limbs, screams and broken bones and blood. You wanted to vomit. And he did it again, and suddenly you were in another street, and there was a car? A black car? And a nervous looking guy in a suit standing near the car, and you didn’t know what the fuck was happening, and—

“Megumiii, the last one’s yours!” He said in a sing-song voice. “Don’t let him escape!”

And maybe you heard a familiar male voice saying “understood” before the sound of fast steps echoing down the street.

And then finally, your feet touched the ground again.

Your body had weight. It was heavy, it was tired. Your head hurt, your stomach was still doing twirls, you were dizzy and confused and something inside your brain felt about to explode—

“Case solved! We got the nurse back!” He said in an obnoxiously happy tone— and maybe if you hadn’t noticed with the corner of your eye that he was about to touch your arm, you wouldn’t have done it.

But you did it anyway.

You slapped him.

It was instinctive. Your palm found its way to his cheek with speed and strength that could only be fueled by panic. The slap echoed on the street, turned his head to the side abruptly, made his cheek burn in bright red.

The suit guy gasped audibly.

Even Floating Jesus seemed shocked. Not that you could tell for sure because of the blindfold, but his jaw was dropped.

Yeah, your brain was definitely lagging. You could’ve said a hundred things. A hundred questions. You could’ve tried to run away. You could’ve tried screaming for help.

And yet, the only thing you said – pointing at him angrily as if he had called your mom a bitch — was:

“I am not a nurse!”

That was around a second before your brain completely shut off.

You had time to see the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

And then—

Darkness.

A/N: AND OUR STORY BEGINS!!! GOSH!! So much stuff happens this chapter. But I wanted to start this story with adrenaline!! Next chapter we'll have time to sit down and talk (hopefully) ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ If you read it this far, please don't forget to leave a comment or interact somehow! Feedback always motivates me to keep writing. Let me know if you guys are excited about the story too! 💞 Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! See you <3

[kimvvantae]

Weak Point; 1

⤕ It's crazy how life can turn upside down overnight. In your case, life took a 180º turn the morning you discovered you were the weakness of the most powerful creature in the world.

From a normal citizen, you become Jujutsu Society's most coveted target. In a world where everyone wants your head on a silver platter, plagued by secrets of the past and struggling to balance what remains of your “normal” life, you are trapped in a situation you cannot escape.

And yet - amid the chaos, you slowly realize that you might be his weak point in ways that have nothing to do with sorcery.

pairing: gojo x (f) reader

genre: romance, fluff and humor, angst, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, "oh no we have to live in the same house" trope, fix-it fic (kinda)

warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (in future parts), grief, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit language, me trying to be funny

rating: 18+

word count: 9k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!! First of all, thank you so much for giving this fic a chance!! - This self-indulgent mess starts a little before JJK 0. - Reader is roughly a year younger than Gojo. - We're gonna dig HEAVILY into grief, especially deceased parents, so beware if this is a sensitive topic for you! - This is an afab!reader situation, so no specific physical traits will be described. I am giving you a nickname tho, because I'd rather eat shit than pollute my text with "Y/N" ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) - And as usual, English is not my first language. Enjoy!! <3

⤕ Masterlist: soon! ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

It was a shift like any other before the kidnapping happened.

The emergency room is never a calm environment, of course, let alone of a big city. But the previous night, it felt that the gates of hell opened in the grounds of the Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital. It was that type of shift that let nurses with their hairs disheveled and eyes widened and doctors running from side to side and the endless noise of stretcher’s wheels around the halls and ambulance sirens and for fuck’s sake the coffee machine is broken again I will kill myself.

A shift like any other. Yeah.

There were two car crashes. Or three. You stopped counting after the third exposed fracture. A big festival happened in Shinjuku – or something like that – which always results in drunk people doing drunk people atrocities. There were a few cases of alcohol-induced coma, too, and a couple guys needing stitches on their faces because they got into fist fights. Also two heart attacks? Some old lady fell down the stairs of her home.

Yeah. Yeah, there was a lot of stuff happening at the same time.

Maybe that’s why you were so inattentive, that morning. The clocks marked 8AM; the sun had risen above the city and you hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe it was the coffee’s fault (or the lack of it, since the machine broke sometime past midnight). Or the energy drinks. Or the full pack of cigarettes you smoked. Or the salad you ate hours ago. Uh. There were a lot of things going on with you, actually, and not very professional on your part, but it was your second 24 hour shift that week, and you hadn’t really slept between the shifts, which meant you’d been awake for… huh… twenty hours straight?

Dad would’ve killed me if he knew, you thought.

Dad. Maybe you should’ve listened to your dad back then, when he said you should pick another specialty. A cardiologist like him, probably. Or a gynecologist. Some area that would allow you to work in a calm clinic, with a much higher salary and a more reasonable lifestyle.

It’s what anyone would want, of course, after years and years of studying: a respectable profession that gives you tons of money. But you weren’t like dad. You needed that adrenaline, and you needed the cigarettes and the coffee and the energy drinks, and you needed to be so overworked that your brain wouldn’t stop for a second to think about that other thing.

July 18th, 2017 – your phone screen showed. You only survived the 17th thanks to all of that.

Which didn’t mean your brain wasn’t reduced to jelly inside your skull at that point, of course.

“You look like you’re on cocaine.”

Remi stared at you with a mix of judging and concern in her eyes. She sat behind the nurse’s counter, while you leaned on it in front of her.

“I don’t.” You shrugged and took one more sip of the warm water from the plastic cup. Remi tightener her eyes.

“Your pupils are two black wholes. You look insane right now.”

“I’m fine.”

“How many energy drinks did you take?” Her perfect eyebrow quirked up.

“Not many.”

“This alone implies you had more than one. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

You shrugged again, half of your face hidden behind the plastic cup.

“Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed.

You weren’t annoyed at her. Remi was the responsible one, and you were the reckless one. This was your dynamic. It worked well. And she couldn’t really judge you, not while you spent the night in the seventh ring of hell while she spent her shift in the calm, silent inpatient unit.

“I’d rather be actually high right now, to be honest.” You admitted quietly. Remi nodded. She put some strands of honey blonde hair behind her ear delicately.

“Yeah. Me too.” Not so responsible. “Keito-kun was in Shinjuku… he sent me many photos.” A pout slowly took for in her lips. “He had invited me, you know. We were supposed to be there together.”

You tightened your eyes slowly.

“I thought you had stopped talking to him.”

“That was past week, darling. Things change.”

“Right.” Yeah, definitely not very responsible.

“But that’s not the point. The summer festival looked so fun! And there were so many hot guys there, too…”

“But weren’t you supposed to be there with Keito-kun?”

“I can multitask.”

You cackled. She followed. It was probably the first time you smiled that day.

You opened Mayu’s contact impatiently again. She had chosen some anime boy as her current icon. You tapped your index finger over the counter, trying to ignore the fact that your hands were shaking a bit.

“Mayu’s not answering me.” You mumbled. Remi typed something on her computer, not bothering to lift her eyes to you.

“It’s 8AM on a Saturday. No normal person is awake at this hour.”

“I think she went to Shinjuku behind my back.”

Remi pursed her lips and hummed. “...It’s the type of thing I would do as a teenager.”

“Me too.”

“So you can’t really judge her, can you?”

“Well, I’m supposed to be the responsible one now, aren’t I?” You didn’t plan on sounding exasperated all of sudden, and you didn’t plan on making your breathing get faster or your eyes widening, and maybe Remi was right, maybe you did look like someone on cocaine, and maybe you should really stop with the energy drinks – oh shit stop stop stop. One thought at a time. One thought at a time.

“Oh, come on. Even if she went there, Mayu is pretty level headed for her age. Much more than I was. I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s sleeping right now and you’re overreacting.”

Yeah. Maybe. You’d call Aunt Junko later to make sure she actually slept there instead of sneaking out (Aunt Junko wasn’t that great with messaging apps. You had bought her a new phone, but she only knew how to accept and decline calls). But how could you not be anxious and overreact if yesterday was that day?

You knew – Mayu wasn’t as affected as you were. She was way too young when everything happened, after all. But still, now that most of the craziness of past night was slowly leaving your system, you felt guilt slowly grow inside of you. Was it a bit selfish to choose to work a shift in such a date? What if she was upset that you left her alone?

July 18th, the notification bar showed. Yesterday, July 17th.

July 17th.

Shit. Stop thinking about that other thing. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To not think about it. So don’t think about it. It was yesterday anyway. It’s over.

Remi yawned.

“When are you leaving?”

“At nine thirty.” You groaned and massaged your own forehead. “Shit. Just remembered I’ll have to go home by subway.”

“Thank God, I wouldn’t let you drive in this state.” She tightened her eyes at you again. It was funny to see her going mom mode, even though she didn’t have children. “You should take better care of your health, girl. An ER doctor trying to have a heart attack? You’ll enter this hospital as a patient one of these days!”

You nodded tiredly. “I know. My bad.”

To be fair, usually you wouldn’t be so reckless. In a normal day, just plain caffeine and a few breaks to smoke would carry you through a full shift smoothly. It’s just that… it wasn’t a normal day. But you didn’t have it in you to try to justify yourself, because if you tried, you’d have to talk about that other thing, and you didn’t want to do it.

Before any of you could say anything, the soft ring of an electronic bell caught your attention. You tiptoed over the counter to see the panel of alarm lights. The little light from Room 32 glowed in green.

“Mrs. Hamazaki’s room.” Remi sighed and got up from her chair, sending you a pleading look. “I know you’re on your break, but can you cover me for a while? Just until Misa-san comes back. If a patient calls, dial downstairs… but she should be back in five minutes.”

You still had thirteen minutes left. Technically you shouldn’t, but you decided to shrug and walk to the other side of the counter anyway. “Sure.”

Remi patted your shoulder as you settled on her chair and put the stethoscope around her neck, disappearing down the quiet hallway towards Room 32.

Quiet. Real quiet, here.

You sighed, suddenly feeling an invisible weight worth tons over your shoulders. Sleep was finally starting to take space inside your head. Just the thought that you still had to take the subway – even for just a few stations –, shower, eat something and probably scold Mayu for going to Shinjuku (you knew her too well) made you feel tired.

But it’s fine. You’d have the next three days off, thanks to the two consecutive shifts you took.

You placed your phone standing over the desk, balancing it on the computer screen, and opened the front camera – just to immediately regret it. Jesus Christ, you really looked insane; your hair looked like a bird’s nest, dark circles under your eyes, your lips were chapped (you were so sure Mayu stole your lip balm)… everything about you was wrong. You immediately untied the loose bun and tied it again, trying to make your hair look at least a little more presentable. A small part of your brain tried to remember the last time you wore something nice, went to a hair salon or put makeup beyond just some soft mascara and blush… it was two months ago, maybe. Or three.

Fuck.

That’s the life you chose, right?

Nine minutes to the end of your break.

An annoying, familiar sound caught your attention. You frowned and got up to peek from over the counter.

Disgust immediately set in your stomach.

Other than the broken coffee machine or the new nurse that took ages to get a single blood sample or that old man that yelled at you because his case was sooo much worse than a car crash victim (he just had back pain) or the paramedic that gave you he wrong prognosis or the drunk patient flirting with you or that test result that arrived two hours late, that fucking thing on the floor was what made you truly feral the entire shift.

Except – you couldn’t sneak into the inpatients unit to complain about it with Remi, because apparently, no one else could see it.

It’s not as if you weren’t used to it. In fact, you were so used to it that you could fully ignore it, because that’s what adults do. Oh, you’re seeing a creature that looks straight out of Silent Hill? No, you’re fucking not. No one else is seeing it, so I’m not seeing it either.

It was also very unprofessional to be showing clear signs of schizophrenia and not being brave enough to confess it to a psychiatrist, sure. But it wasn’t a today thing. It was an always thing, because you’d always seen these things, and it was already so familiar that it didn’t shock you anymore. Maybe you could’ve done something about it when you were a kid, but now? At your big age? As you were so close to completing your residency? Fuck no.

This one wasn’t even as gruesome as the others you’d seen. But hell, how annoying it was.

“Chuuuuu…” the creepy little thing moaned. It looked like a rat – an obese, hairless, in advanced state of decomposition rat; its legs were too short and thin for the rest of the body, hence why it moved around slowly, dragging itself on the cool floor. And shit, it smelled so bad; its stench immediately overwhelmed the usual smell of antiseptic of the hall.

That fucking thing.

It kept chuuuu-ing in your ear the entire shift. It wandered around the ER room, and you crossed its slow path many times, trying to not look too insane as you avoided stepping on it. Even when you were far from it, you’d still hear the chuuuuuu and it was making you go nuts.

Again. Maybe it was the date or your maniacal mental state that made you so bothered with it. You’d see these things almost weekly at the hospital; they were all irritating, but they were also small and easy to ignore. You’d encountered far worse before. Yet, you just couldn’t stand it this time.

“Chuuuuuuu…” it repeated again. You grimaced.

“Shut the fuck up,” you finally hissed in something between a whisper and a yell, because you’d been holding back this entire time and now there was no one to witness you cussing at nothing.

Seven minutes to the end of your break.

The fucking thing looked at you.

It moved its hairless head slowly in your direction. Its eyes were white and empty. It… it lifted its head to look at you.

You froze in place.

You were looking at it, and it was looking back. It was looking. It was seeing.

That was new.

The thing screeched.

Like a rodent in a trap, but angrier. It… it looked angry, now. Its fat face retorted, exposing a set of sharp teeth, drool dripping from its mouth.

That was also new.

It changed directions. Before, it was crawling down the hallway; now, it crawled towards the counter – much faster than it was before. Towards you.

That was also very new.

“What the fuck?” You whispered, looking to your sides; the hallway was still empty. Your hallucinations were trying to attack you now? Shit, what if Remi was right and you were actually high? What if someone spiked your energy drink? Where the hell was that Misa-san she talked about? There’s no way– no way you’d deal with that alone.

The rat thing crawled closer. Closer. You got up from the chair.

“Shoo,” you tried, feeling a mix of urgency and disgust and sheer embarrassment because hey, were you trying to shoo a mutant rat that apparently only existed in your head?! You looked to your sides again, over the counter, waiting for anyone to appear – but the hallway was still dead empty.

It crossed the counter, screeching angrily. You stepped back and almost hit your back on a cabinet behind you. “Go away!” You whispered again. It only caused it to screech louder.

The thing opened and closed its jaws, biting the air around your feet. It was trying to bite you.

“No!” You tiptoed, trying to avoid it. The thing screeched so loud that it hurt your eardrums. It aimed at your ankles; its teeth were dead sharp, and it was drooling, and it was so much more disgusting from up close, and it smelled of rotten flesh, and it was going to bite your ankles, and– and–

“No!”

You stomped on it.

The thing exploded.

Its insides splashed around your right foot like it was nothing but a balloon filled with water, but instead of water it was purple rotten slime. You stood there, paralyzed, staring at your foot, the rat’s guts splashed on the floor – when suddenly, right before your eyes, its remains started to vaporize in black dust.

And then, in less than 5 seconds, there was only purple blood.

Or you thought that was blood.

That was all very fucking new.

“Ew!” A visceral disgusted groan erupted from your throat. You looked around again frantically (No one! Where the hell was that Misa-san girl?!), not knowing if you wished someone would see this or thankful that no one witnessed you murdering a… uh… rat? Rodent?

You were feeling its warm blood drip down your ankles and inside your socks, staining your white tennis shoe and the hem of your navy blue pants. That thing was real.

“Ew! Ew!” You whispered again. You hopped on one foot towards the paper towels on the wall, taking as many as you could and wiping the blood from your shoe the best way you could. I’m gonna get rabies, the thought crossed your mind, spiking your panic. I’m gonna get mutant rabies. I need to disinfect this. Disinfectant! Shit, I killed a wild animal or whatever that thing was– but I wasn’t expecting it to fucking implode like that! How did it get inside the hospital anyway?! Should I call animal control? How am I going to explain this–

“Excuse me?”

You yelped and turned around in a jump.

There was a boy.

He stood on the other side of the counter, eyeing you with a slight frown. His hair was a gracious mess of spiked black strands; he wore a plain white t-shirt and jeans. His eyelashes were ridiculously long (in a jealous tone), contrasting with his pale white skin.

Oh. Ooooh.

You eyed the identification sticker glued to the right side of his chest (remembering names is not a doctor’s forte).

“Oh. Hello, Fushiguro-kun. Good morning.” You swiftly threw the dirty tissues in the trash can under the counter, away from his eyesight. “How can I help you?”

Technically you shouldn’t help him because this was not your area and that Misa-san girl should be here already, but not only were you trying to not look so awkward and not let a visitor know you had just killed a wild animal inside the hospital – you had a soft spot for him. Everyone had, to be honest.

“Good morning, Mori-san.” You noticed how he didn’t look at your ID badge, he just remembered your name. Such a good kid. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that… I thought I heard something.”

Great.

“Really? Heard what?”

Fushiguro tightened his eyes again. Why did he look so suspicious?

“Something strange.”

Greeeat. The boy heard me stomp on a wild animal. Fantastic.

“Must’ve been outside, I guess. It’s really silent here.” Years of calming hysterical patients made you perfect the ability of offering a calm, unsuspecting smile. “Can I help you with anything else?”

Which was something stupid to ask twice, because there was nothing you could help him with… and you had tried before.

You first met Fushiguro back in April.

It was your shift when his older sister, Fushiguro Tsumiki, was admitted to the hospital.

She came unconscious in an ambulance with a shivering, panicked friend of hers, both wearing school uniforms. You didn’t remember the specifics, but they were out of school doing something they clearly shouldn’t when Tsumiki blacked out, in her friend’s words. Your first assumption was alcoholic coma, obviously, even though her friend denied it vehemently (what teenager wants to get caught drinking in school hours?). She also stated that Tsumiki hadn’t hit her head anywhere, which was true: there were no signs of concussion or any other injury anywhere in her body. No convulsion, drooling or bleeding. Her vital signs were perfectly fine. And yet, Tsumiki wouldn’t wake up.

Around an hour after she was admitted, Fushiguro arrived. You remember asking where their parents were, but he was so frenetic that you decided to explain the situation to him before they could come. You told Fushiguro about her health status. You explained that she was going through a tomography at that moment and she still had more exams to take, but despite the unconsciousness, she was stable.

Your shift ended. You went home. The sight of that lonely, scared teenager stuck with you – maybe because he reminded you of Mayu.

The next day, you discovered that Tsumiki had been transferred from the ER to the ICU. She was none of your business anymore. And yet, during your break, you decided to check her test results out of curiosity.

There were no signs of alcohol or drugs in her blood.

No concussion, aneurysm, tumor or stroke. Her brain was perfectly fine.

And yet – Tsumiki would not wake up.

You were always busy with patients. It was hard to keep track of each case, and after someone was transferred out of the ER, you usually didn’t have time to check on them. But that girl intrigued you (and pretty much the entire medical staff). She was not brain dead; instead, her brain was working on a low frequency, as if she was simply asleep.

An inexplicable coma?

The entire situation kept coming back to you, not just due to the sheer absurdity of it, but also because of the boy.

Fushiguro came to visit every day during the first month. Remi always talked about him. Other nurses talked about him, too, always in a heartbroken tone. You’d cross his path in the hospital sometimes, and when you did, you’d make sure to check on him.

Whenever you saw him, your heart tightened.

He did remind you too much of Mayu. It made you think of her in this state if you were hospitalized. It broke your heart even more after you learned they were orphans. The whole thing just hit too close to home.

It was one of these situations that made you wonder, if I had done something different when she arrived, would I have saved her?

These days, he visited the hospital once or twice a week, always alone – which made you genuinely worried for him, since he was orphaned. Who was taking care of that boy? You went as far as checking Tsumiki’s file again, only to note that they had a legal guardian (well, someone had to be paying for the medical expenses, right?). Remi explained that said legal guardian did visit her sometimes as well (and she didn’t forget to mention how hot he was, apparently), you just happened to never be there when he was.

Tsumiki was currently in a room down the hallway. The visiting hours started at 8 o’clock, and there he was, always punctual.

And still eyeing you with suspicion.

Boy, I like you, but you’re starting to piss me off right now.

“...No, thank you,” he finally said, stepping away slowly. “I guess it was nothing.” Fushiguro offered you a polite bow. “Excuse me. Have a good job.”

You watched him walk out of the inpatients unit through the door.

Only then did you breathe again.

Three minutes to the end of your break.

Shit. You were going to get late. Where the fuck was Misa-san?! In fact, where was everybody in this goddamn ward?! You rushed to grab the phone and dialed the infirmary extension, ready to yell at someone, taping your fingertips over the desk impatiently. You’d have to explain yourself about the mutant rodent later – and you wouldn’t bother to clean that blood, not after Misa-san pissed you off by being late. Is no one going to pick it up?!

Two minutes to the end of your break.

The soft ring of an electronic bell.

Great. Fantastic.

You eyed the panel of alarms over the desk angrily. I don’t even know who Misa-san is, but I already hate her.

But then – you froze.

The alarm light was glowing in red. Emergency.

Over each alarm, there were stickers with the names of the patients occupying the rooms.

Room 39.

Fushiguro Tsumiki.

Your stomach dropped.

You put the phone down and ran down the hallway.

Is this really happening? Is it a mistake? What if the alarm is broken–? It didn’t matter. It didn’t even matter that you were going to get late and that this wasn’t your job. That was Tsumiki, and her brother had just left the room barely a minute ago. What if a miracle had just happened?! You’d still have time to run after him to tell him the news!

Room 39 was at the end of the corridor. Without a second thought, you barged in.

You were greeted by darkness.

The curtains were closed. Barely any light from outside reached the room. You tattered the wall, searching for the switch. It didn’t turn the lights on.

But you could still see the outline of her body.

Laying on the hospital bed. The covers up to her chest. Sleeping peacefully.

And for a second, you thought it really was just a mistake; the alarm went off on its own for some reason.

Until you saw someone holding the button.

It was dark; you couldn’t really see. But your body felt it. Your senses. You felt it, with something primitive and instinctive inside of you, felt it with your soul.

There was something terribly, terribly, terribly wrong happening.

And it was like the world outside of that small hospital room didn’t exist anymore. You couldn’t hear anything behind that door; only the darkness that surrounded you, and the cold – it was freezing cold – creeping up your legs and arms like frost. Your lungs failed. Adrenaline pumped in your veins. You didn’t want to turn your back to that thing, because your instincts knew that was a bad idea. And yet, you knew you had to run.

You turned the doorknob in a swift motion.

But it was already too late.

You had time to feel an icy cold hand grip around your wrist.

Then – darkness.

Megumi felt himself fill with anger as he waited for The Idiot.

He tapped his foot nervously, bit his fingernails even more nervously. He’d been trying to stop with this habit, but these days it felt nearly impossible. Not after everything that had been happening.

And certainly not after what happened an hour ago.

Which is what made him angrier. At himself.

Because he didn’t feel that presence until it was too late.

Megumi was inside the elevator, making his way to the ground floor of the hospital, when he felt that. The undeniable, chilling cursed energy – so strong that he could feel it from the other side of the building; it appeared suddenly, made the hairs in the nape of his neck rise, made his eyes widen and his heartbeat spike. Made him press the floor button angrily as if it’d make the elevator change directions out of nowhere.

Then came the explosion.

It shook the entire hospital. It cut the energy. It made him get stuck alone in the elevator for solid three minutes. It took him another three to run upstairs.

But it was already too late.

The cursed energy had disappeared, but not the immense hole on the wall that it – whatever it was – created in broad daylight.

Inside his sister’s room.

Panic filled the entire complex building. He heard people yelling, running, nurses rushing to get patients out of the ward, the distant sound of sirens. There was no fire, however – what created that hole on the wall wasn’t normal. All of that was a blur inside Megumi’s mind.

A hole. Cursed energy. Something inside Tsumiki’s room, minutes after he left.

She was unharmed. Some debris hit her cheek, but other than a small bruise, she was “fine”. That didn’t calm him.

What just happened? Why it happened? Why her?

The hospital was packed with police, firefighters and reporters now. As expected, lawyers already tried to talk to him (desperate for him not to sue them), but it was no use talking to a minor. They wanted his legal guardian.

The Idiot.

If he even felt like coming, that was.

There’s no way he’s not coming, Megumi tried to calm himself. This isn’t just because of Tsumiki. Something strange happened here. He needs to check.

Though – maybe there was a tiny part of him wishing he wouldn’t come…

Well. That was too late.

The familiar black sedan peeked around the corner.

And there he was.

The Idiot walked out of the car with his usual nonchalant posture, holding an opened chocolate Pocky pack. Megumi half expected him to immediately hit him with a joke, or scolding passed as a joke, or downplay the situation–

But The Idiot looked in the direction of the East ward and hummed.

Megumi couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew the man was frowning.

Great. So he knows I’m not overreacting.

“Scandalous, heh?” The Idiot mumbled as he stepped closer. “Too many people here. I don’t like it.”

Ijichi walked out of the car as well, looking nervous as usual. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose while typing something on his phone. “Should I notify the school?”

“Yep.” The Idiot put a Pocky in his mouth.

He walked towards the reception, not waiting for anyone. Megumi saw Ijichi about to say something else – probably that The Idiot shouldn’t get involved before Jujutsu High took responsibility over the case –, but he kind of had permission to do whatever he wanted, so Ijichi stopped himself and pressed the phone on his ear with a sigh of defeat.

Megumi followed him inside the hospital shortly.

“What do you think it was?”

The Idiot shrugged. “Dunno. Gotta take a closer look.” Normal people weren’t allowed to walk in, but he simply ignored it. “Is Tsumiki okay?”

“Yes. She was taken to another room.”

He nodded while chewing. Megumi wanted to believe that The Idiot felt relieved upon hearing that, even though he had already said Tsumiki’s condition through the phone… but it was hard to tell.

“So, let me rewind it…” Megumi rushed to follow him into the elevator. “You were right here… and didn’t feel anything wrong?”

Megumi felt his ears get warm. He hated being reprimanded by The Idiot, and he hated failing, and he hated that it would give The Idiot material to tease him about it. The elevator doors closed.

“I did feel something strange… but…”

“You thought it was nothing?” The Idiot crossed his arms and pouted. “You let your critical thinking overrun your gut? C’mon, Megumi. I’m disappointed.”

“You can’t judge me. This hospital is infested with Grade 4 curses. You know it.”

“Oh, but I can judge you.” The Idiot pointed at him with a Pocky. Despite his words, his tone wasn’t harsh – it was carefree as usual, and perhaps that pissed Megumi even more. “You told me you were taking care of the weakling curses. You said everything was under control, isn’t it? Boooo.” He flicked Megumi’s forehead, which made him inflate with even more anger. The Idiot pouted like a child and stepped away from him, pressing the pack of Pockys over his chest protectively. “Don’t look at me like that. I ain’t giving you any.”

“I don’t want your stupid–”

Ding. The elevator doors opened. The Idiot walked out before Megumi could finish the sentence.

As expected, the hallway was packed with policemen and firefighters. The door leading to the inpatients unit was protected by Keep Out yellow tapes, but The Idiot simply lifted it over his head and walked in.

A guard from the hospital immediately intercepted him. “Sir, this area is forbidden…”

And maybe the fact that he was two heads shorter than The Idiot made his confidence deflate, or the off-putting blindfold, or the simple fact that The Idiot had this strange way of acting like he owned anywhere he walked into and it always made people question themselves. Megumi had seen this same reaction countless times before. The guard cleared his throat and made an effort to broaden his shoulders.

“Sir, you may not enter the area unless authorized. I must ask who you are.”

“Oh. Right.” The Idiot had the decency to shove the Pockys inside the pocket of his jacket, at least. His tone was a mix of nonchalance and passive aggressiveness as usual. “You were looking for this little guy’s legal guardian. Here I am. The legal guardian.” He patted Megumi on the shoulder rather aggressively. “His legal guardian and of the girl who almost blew up inside your hospital, you know.”

The guard went pale.

A middle-aged man wearing a suit nearby observed the conversation and rushed nearer. Megumi recognized him – one of the hospital’s lawyers. He pressed his hands together and smiled nervously.

“Eh, you must be Gojo-san, isn’t it? It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’ve been waiting for your arrival–”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The Idiot kept walking.

Megumi followed. The nervous lawyer followed, too.

The nearer they got to the room at the end of the corridor, the more people gathered. The Idiot towered over all of them, making his way unhurriedly while the lawyer babbled. As he stood in front of Room 39’s open doors, a policeman tried to stop him, but the lawyer hushed:

“This man can end our hospital’s reputation. Please, let him take a look.”

The policeman let him step inside. Megumi followed.

The Idiot whistled.

“What a mess.”

Megumi’s stomach dropped. The wall that faced outside was destroyed; the steel beams were retorted, the concrete cracked even on the ceiling. A hole with a diameter of at least three meters.They still had to verify if the structure of that part of the building had the risk of completely crumbling, though Megumi doubted it. Now, the view to the hospital’s back gardens and the street just ahead was totally visible.

To know that Tsumiki laid right there when whatever or whoever caused this much destruction was… to know that the debris could’ve caused her much more harm… Tsumiki, asleep, defenseless…

The man beside him hummed and held his chin. In moments like this, Megumi wished he could see through his eyes.

“Sloppy work. There’s residue all over the place.”

“So… you don’t think this is the work of a curse?”

“Nope.”

Megumi’s worst suspicions.

Curse users.

Whoever was behind this was intelligent. Had intent. So maybe… maybe Tsumiki’s condition had intent behind it, too…

“I just don’t get why Tsumiki was unharmed.” The Idiot said. “Why draw this much attention if you’re going to leave her behind?”

Megumi had been asking himself this the entire time. It didn’t make any sense.

He sighed and crossed his arms. “Well. I guess keeping her here isn’t safe anymore. Though I don’t think Shoko will be okay with moving her to the school…”

Megumi knew that. Jujutsu High didn’t have the necessary staff or equipment to accommodate a patient in coma; that’s why Tsumiki was in this hospital in the first place. They already knew that her problem couldn’t be solved by normal doctors. She just needed a place to be properly taken care of until they found a solution.

“C’mon. Where is Tsumiki now? Gonna take a look at her.” The Idiot turned around. Megumi frowned and followed.

“What about the cursed energy residue?”

“Just the usual. We gotta track it.” The Idiot shrugged and walked down the hallway back to where they came from. The middle-aged lawyer approached again, babbling about how he was so eager to sit down with him and settle the situation extrajudicially (Megumi wanted to punch him on the face. His sister could’ve died and all he cared about was not getting sued?!). Said lawyer got pale when The Idiot absently handed him a simple black business card and told him to talk to his lawyers (plural), as he had no time in his schedule.

They waited for the elevator. The Idiot started chewing his Pockys again, humming a tune and tapping his foot to the rhythm.

Megumi hated that.

How he couldn’t even pretend to be worried for Tsumiki.

That was when another voice caught his attention.

“You’re not listening to me, sir.”

“I am listening, ma’am.”

“Then why are none of you taking action?! I spent the last hour explaining the same thing!”

“And I have already explained how the protocol works–”

“I am telling you that my friend was taken!”

Ding. The elevator doors opened.

Megumi walked to the other end of the corridor instead. The Idiot tilted his head to the side, calling his name, but he ignored it.

That was Yoshida Remi. The blonde nurse responsible over this floor’s inpatients unit. Megumi already knew her well at this point. He noticed how her forehead had a small bruise, and there were band-aids over her forearms; she was hurt by the explosion? Her hair was disheveled, her face pale, and her expression a mix of concern and frustration. An unwilling policeman stood in front of her, looking like he just wanted to get rid of the situation.

“In fact, Yoshida-san, you have failed to explain exactly what happened.”

She gripped her own hair and groaned. “I… I already told you! She was taken!”

“By who?”

“I…”

The policeman sighed and made an appeasing gesture with his palms turned to her. “I understand you must be in shock, ma’am, after witnessing an explosion. I believe it’s best for you to calm down first and organize your thoughts.”

“My thoughts are organized! My colleague works here and she’s nowhere to be found!”

“Have you tried calling her?”

“I already said– I told you that I got her phone!” The nurse almost scrubbed a phone on the policeman’s face, shaking it angrily in his direction. “How could I call her?!”

“Excuse me, officer.”

Megumi turned his head to see The Idiot approaching as well.

He touched the policeman’s shoulder and opened a small smile. “I’ll take it from here.”

Anyone normal would question the guy with the blindfold, but the officer was visibly so tired of that situation that he decided to simply nod and escape.

The nurse was taken aback. “Fushiguro-kun? You’re still here?” He saw a load of guilt cross her face. “I am so sorry for what happened to your sister. You have checked on her already, right? Fortunately, she was unscathed…”

“Yes. Yes, I saw her.” Megumi nodded.

The Idiot stepped closer. “What were you talking about? Your colleague was taken?”

Yoshida Remi’s eyes traveled to The Idiot – and at the same rate she was visibly confused by the blindfold, she also blushed. Megumi tried not to roll his eyes. “Gojo-san? I-I didn’t know you were an officer.”

“Yeah.” The Idiot smiled, not bothering to deny it. “So? Can you explain to me exactly what you saw?”

She dropped her eyes and frowned; the nurse was so, so, so visibly confused. “I-I… I’m not really sure of what I saw. But I saw. I heard a noise coming from Fushiguro-san’s room, so I went there to check it, and…” She scratched her head nervously. “I saw someone, or something, grab my friend and take her away. Then the explosion came and I’m even less sure of what happened, but…” She looked up again with frantic, widened eyes. “But she disappeared! I looked for her everywhere! Look, her phone was left behind, and I found her badge on the floor, too…”

Megumi’s eyes widened.

“It was Mori-san?”

She nodded. “Yes! You remember her, don’t you?!”

Of course Megumi remembered her. He saw her just minutes before the explosion happened… and she looked suspicious…

Surprisingly, The Idiot took the ID badge from the nurse’s hand and looked down at it.

His smile had vanished.

So had his nonchalant posture.

“Megumi.” The black haired boy frowned at his tone – lower? More serious? “Let’s go.”

He also took the phone from the nurse’s hand and turned around without explaining anything.

“What? Are you making a police report?”

The Idiot threw her a thumbs up without looking back. “Yep! No worries!”

Megumi bowed at the confused blonde nurse politely before running after him. “Where are we going?!”

“We’re going to solve a kidnapping, silly. Ain’t it obvious?” He flicked Megumi’s temple again to his utmost anger. Luckily, the elevator’s doors were already opened, so both rushed in. The black sedan and Ijichi were waiting in the same spot.

“Good news, though.” The Idiot said while chewing more Pocky. “I don’t think this had anything to do with Tsumiki at all.”

“What…?”

The Idiot, as usual, did not elaborate.

Surprisingly, he sat on the passenger’s seat instead of the backseats, which for some reason made Ijichi sweat. While Megumi adjusted his seatbelt, Ijichi asked nervously:

“Where to next, Gojo-san?”

The Idiot hummed.

With his thumb, he pushed the black blindfold up to his forehead, exposing his right eye. His cyan iris seemed to glow faintly.

“...Hmm… Sanya, I guess.” He put the blindfold back in place and excitedly reached for the radio, immediately turning it up to an obnoxious volume. “I’m not picking any of your boring songs, Ijichi!”

The driver shivered.

One day, Megumi would land a much deserving punch on his face.

It was freezing.

All of your senses were slow as consciousness awakened again. No hearing, no seeing, no smelling or tasting. But you could feel that it was cold.

The second thing you could feel was your teeth chattering.

The third, a discomfort on the entire left side of your body: you were laying on a hard floor. Your neck hurt from the way your head hung.

The fourth was the fact that you couldn’t move.

You could feel your limbs, but there was no strength to them, as if the cable that connected your brain to your limbs was ripped off. Your body was useless.

That’s when panic started to settle in.

What the fuck was going on?!

Finally, you could see again.

The place was dimly lit by… candles? That was it, probably, judging by the way shadows flickered on the walls. Each breath of yours produced small clouds of steam. It was a relatively large room; the concrete floor under your body was wet. The place smelled like a butcher shop. Were you inside a meat locker? That should be it, judging by how stupidly cold it was. With your peripheral vision, you could see that there was a plastic curtain somewhere in the corner.

Your teeth chattered, but that was an involuntary motion. You could move your eyeballs and that was it. The rest of your body – numb.

A million thoughts per minute rushed in your head. A spinal fracture? Had you completely lost movement?

You were laying in fetal position: leg to leg, arm to arm. You tried your best to look down…

You were… mummified?

That was the only description. There was… paper wrapped around your body. Yellowed paper, old looking, with inscriptions that you couldn’t really recognize. From what you could see, only your head was free from it.

Panic really really really settled in.

Oh my fucking God. What is happening?! Where am I?! What happened– wait, try to remember. Try to remember. I was working. I was in the hospital. I stepped on a weird looking rat. My break was close to ending. I rushed to a room because the alarm was on and– and– what happened after that?! What–?

You heard steps.

It made your heartbeat spike up.

Shit. Shit. Oh my God. Oh my God. I was kidnapped.

It was more than one pair of feet – two or three people? You couldn’t be sure, as you couldn’t fucking move your head to see it, but the noise clearly came from over that plastic curtain. Low male voices. It made violent shivers run your entire body.

Fear. Fear. Fear. You were frightened. A type of fear you’d never experienced before. It was visceral, colder than the temperature, scarier than any weird creature you’d seen before. You were in an actually dangerous situation and you couldn’t even form a coherent thought.

I’m being trafficked I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m–

The second little person living inside your head slaps the first little person on the face. Shut up!! Focus! Try to think of a way out!!

A window–?! You couldn’t turn your head to see if there was one. If this really was a meat locker, there shouldn’t be any. A familiar sound?! Cars outside–?! Nothing. The only things you could hear were the low voices of the unknown men nearby and a constant quiet buzz. A board?! A flyer?! Anything that might tell you where you are–?! Nothing to see on your field of view.

The first little person living inside your head starts freaking out again. I don’t know where I am I don’t know how long I’ve been knocked out I might be paraplegic I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die—

You’re not being useful!, the second little person yells, making the first little person recoil and shiver. You’ve watched these true crime documentaries! The probability of living if you don’t take action now are less than 10%! Do something now that we have a chance!

Right right right. They still hadn’t noticed that you were awake; you could only hope there was no one watching you from behind where you couldn’t see. You’d have to take advantage of this before anyone crossed the curtains.

You could feel your limbs and the pain and the discomfort, so a spinal fracture was less likely. Maybe they had anesthetized you and the effects were beginning to dissipate? What sort of anesthetic was that, by the way, to render anyone in this state? Gosh— if it really was general anesthesia, you were lucky to be alive to begin with.

Try to move. It felt silly to try to mechanically do something a body does on the automatic. You focused your senses on your left feet; the strange blood of the mutant rat had dried in your sock, becoming some sort of crust you could feel very well. You could feel that the shoelace was less tight than on the right foot. Try to move. Try to move. A spasm. A wiggle. Anything. Anything.

But nothing moved.

No matter how hard you tried.

Your breath became irregular and difficult as real, real, real panic spread through your system.

I am going to die.

Both little people inside your head were screaming now.

I can’t move. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know who these people are. I don’t know what they’re gonna do. I don’t have a way out. I don’t have an escape plan. I can’t contact anyone. I am going to die I am going to die I am going to die I am going to die I am going to die I am going to—

Mayu.

The two little people shut up abruptly.

Mayu.

Fourteen year old Mayu, waiting for you to come home. Acting nonchalant at first but then getting really worried when you don’t pick up or text back. Mayu, going back to Aunt Junko’s house, not knowing what to do. Mayu, Mayu-chan, Mayuka, lonely and frightened the way you saw Fushiguro Megumi the evening that his older sister was brought in.

Mayu.

You couldn’t allow anyone to kill you.

You couldn’t just leave her behind.

Another feeling grew inside of you, spread like fire on hay; made the two little people run and hide. Overwhelmed the fear quickly.

Anger.

Who the fuck these men thought they were to kidnap you?! What right did they have?!

Anger mixed with frustration pumped even more adrenaline through your bloodstream; tears welled up your eyes, tightened your throat. I can’t be dragged around like a garbage bag! I can’t allow it! I have to do something!

USELESS BODY!! DO!! SOMETHING!!

It started like a point of heat — right in your heart.

You didn’t know what that was. For a brief second, you thought it was cardiac arrest — that’s probably what it’d feel like. It was hot, piping hot, made your blood boil, your vision blur in white; it spread through your skin, from your toes to your scalp. It was heat, it was energy, it was anger—

It was fire.

It was black. The flames — they were black; they enveloped your body, and it took a second to understand that this was not your imagination; you were in flames. You’d have screamed if you could. It took you another second, however, to realize that these flames weren’t burning you… not exactly.

They set the papers that wrapped your body on fire.

You watched in utter disbelief as the inscriptions on the papers seemed to glow for a moment before burning down to ashes.

All of that happened in less than ten seconds.

The black fire extinguished as if it’d never been there in the first place.

The strange yellowed paper that once enveloped your body — gone.

And all of sudden — you could move.

The cable was reconnected.

You got up in a jump; your limbs ached and you felt dizzy, but somehow managed to keep your balance. Your heart pounded in your chest, you gasped for air as if you’d been underwater, your fingers were shaking, you felt a terrible headache— and on top of that, you were tired as if you’d ran a marathon.

None of that mattered. You could move. You could run.

You didn’t even have time to look around, however — because the curtains were opened.

There were three men.

They were all relatively tall. The one in the middle had long black hair, an ugly goatee and tattoos on his forearms. Their clothes were pretty unimpressive. They… didn’t look threatening, not exactly — the one in the middle looked like someone you’d have beaten up in middle school — but there was something in your gut yelling at you to be careful, that they represented danger you could not deal with. Not just because of the obvious fact that they were your kidnappers. Not even because the guy on the left had a fucking katana strapped to his hip.

It was that chilly, strange feeling that usually meant there was a creature nearby.

You’d never felt this for a person before.

The goatee guy hummed and measured you up and down.

“She broke the seals. You shoulda made sure these seals would work, huh, Hideki?” His voice was raspy. Was he talking like a stereotypical Yakuza member on purpose? Did he think he sounded cool doing that?

“Ain’t my fault. The seals were pretty tight.” The guy on the left replied. Why was he also talking like that?! He opened a smirk, exposing a set of the yellowest teeth you’d ever seen. “This only means she really is the one, right?”

“Uh-huh.” The goatee guy smirked too and caressed said goatee. “Just like they told us, aye?”

“This one’s gonna make us a ton of money.” The one on the right said with a stupidly high pitched voice.

“Who are you? Where am I?” You felt stupid — why would they answer? Why even ask in the first place? In fact — seals?! What were they talking about?!

“Knock her out again. And make better seals this time.” Goatee guy ignored you completely. The guy on the left stepped closer, which spiked your panic once again.

You could move now, but what difference did that make against three people? You were weak, standing pathetically, shaking from head to toe.

“No! No!” You yelled when he gripped your wrist and pulled you without any effort.

“No one’s gonna hear you. It’s useless.”

“Fuck you!”

You punched his face.

It was a sloppy, weak punch with your non-dominant hand — not enough to make him release you, but enough to make him angry.

He gripped your hair with his free hand and pulled aggressively; it felt like he was going to rip the strands off the scalp, making you scream again — in pain this time.

“Fucking bitch—“

And then you were on the ground.

And he was on the ground, too. And goatee guy. And the baby voice guy.

And everyone was on the ground, because the roof had exploded.

You didn’t have time to look up or scream or even properly register what the fuck had happened before you were shocked against the wet floor. It sounded like a bomb had dropped over your head, and concrete and steel cracked like paper, and the sound was deafening and disorienting and it felt like oxygen was sucked off your lungs, and just like that — in seconds — half of the roof and the wall were gone, and it was all white because— because— the sun is still up! The sun was up and your eyes weren’t used to the brightness, and there was dust in your mouth which made you cough, and your head hurt and you didn’t know what was happening— what—

What—

There was a guy.

And he was floating.

Your brain was overloaded with information. You had stepped on a mutant rat. You had been kidnapped. You spontaneously combusted in black flames. The place where you were exploded. And now—

There was a guy floating meters above you, from the immense hole caused by the explosion. Like, an actual person. Floating.

Your ears were buzzing, your eyes were still adjusting to the sudden sunlight; for some moments, all you could see was a silhouette. And for a second, one of the little people in your head breathed out in awe and disbelief: Jesus?

It wasn’t Jesus.

Jesus didn’t have white hair, as far as you knew.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, confused and disoriented, the extremely high pitched buzz still ringing in your ears; it felt that your head was underwater. Sounds were muffled. You didn’t really see the moment he — Albino Jesus? — got down, but all of sudden he was hovering over you — his torso leaning down to look at you closely, his feet on each side of you.

“Looking” was a bit of a stretch.

He was… blindfolded?

And grinning.

“Happy to see me?” His deep, lighthearted (?), excited voice reached your ears through the buzz. You couldn’t help but note how his teeth were so perfectly white, the complete opposite of katana guy.

“What—?” You managed to mumble somehow, still feeling the horrid taste of dust in your tongue.

“Nah, no need to get emotional. We ain’t got time for this.”

He offered his open hand in your direction, and for a moment you thought he was helping you to your feet… but you heard a strange zzuup, an inescapable attraction, and then suddenly you were off the ground without doing any effort – towards his palm. Your back was glued to it as if he was a magnet and you, a coin. You saw yourself weightless, floating beside his body.

You felt like a potato sack if potato sacks didn’t have weight.

No. A potato sack is too nice. He was carrying you like a dog.

Your stomach twirled.

You wanted to take a better look at his face (what was visible of it), but the three guys were up to their feet again and you went cold. What was worse: the three kidnappers, or floating Jesus?

However, their reactions took you completely off guard.

They took protective stances. Their expressions weren’t mocking or relaxed anymore… they were… scared?

Frightened, in fact.

“Oooh?” Floating Jesus hummed in that same excited tone again. His voice seemed to be naturally loud. “You want this nurse so bad that you’re willing to fight me for her?”

What?! I’m not a—

“This is fucked up, man,” baby voice guy stuttered. “It wasn’t on the contract that we’d have to face Gojo Satoru.”

Floating Jesus pointed his finger at baby voice guy.

“So you’re not willing to fight. At least someone’s honest!”

Your brain didn’t properly register what happened next, partly because it couldn’t believe it.

Space around baby voice guy’s body twisted; it was like looking at someone’s warped reflex on rippled water. But that wasn’t simply a warped reflex or an illusion. He yelled in pain, a yell that came from his guts — and you watched in real time as his arms and legs warped with the twisted space around him, heard the nauseating noise of his bones crushing in different angles, saw the blood splashing from his wounds and his body falling flat on the floor.

Your jaw dropped.

There was no time to let that image sink in. The other two guys ran in different directions – trying to flee.

Floating Jesus giggled.

Your stomach dropped with your jaw when he moved, dragging your weightless body along; fast fast fast, he moved too fast for your eyes to follow, making everything look like an incomprehensible blur. In the blink of an eye, he was floating again above countless roofs; it looked like a residential neighborhood — and you looked down, and you were too high, way too high, and he wasn’t even really holding you, your back was just glued to his palm and what if he dropped you— what if—

You screamed.

“Don’t shout in my ear, woman.” He whined.

“We’re gonna fall! We’re gonna—”

He had moved again.

You were closer to the street this time and at that point you wondered if your brain was lagging, because how the hell could you be in a spot in a second and in another spot a second later?! You found what he was looking for — katana guy, running down the street at a speed that didn’t even look human. And yet, it was still not match for Floating Jesus.

He stopped in front of katana guy.

“Boo.”

That thing happened again – warped space, warped limbs, screams and broken bones and blood. You wanted to vomit. And he did it again, and suddenly you were in another street, and there was a car? A black car? And a nervous looking guy in a suit standing near the car, and you didn’t know what the fuck was happening, and—

“Megumiii, the last one’s yours!” He said in a sing-song voice. “Don’t let him escape!”

And maybe you heard a familiar male voice saying “understood” before the sound of fast steps echoing down the street.

And then finally, your feet touched the ground again.

Your body had weight. It was heavy, it was tired. Your head hurt, your stomach was still doing twirls, you were dizzy and confused and something inside your brain felt about to explode—

“Case solved! We got the nurse back!” He said in an obnoxiously happy tone— and maybe if you hadn’t noticed with the corner of your eye that he was about to touch your arm, you wouldn’t have done it.

But you did it anyway.

You slapped him.

It was instinctive. Your palm found its way to his cheek with speed and strength that could only be fueled by panic. The slap echoed on the street, turned his head to the side abruptly, made his cheek burn in bright red.

The suit guy gasped audibly.

Even Floating Jesus seemed shocked. Not that you could tell for sure because of the blindfold, but his jaw was dropped.

Yeah, your brain was definitely lagging. You could’ve said a hundred things. A hundred questions. You could’ve tried to run away. You could’ve tried screaming for help.

And yet, the only thing you said – pointing at him angrily as if he had called your mom a bitch — was:

“I am not a nurse!”

That was around a second before your brain completely shut off.

You had time to see the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

And then—

Darkness.

A/N: AND OUR STORY BEGINS!!! GOSH!! So much stuff happens this chapter. But I wanted to start this story with adrenaline!! Next chapter we'll have time to sit down and talk (hopefully) ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ If you read it this far, please don't forget to leave a comment or interact somehow! Feedback always motivates me to keep writing. Let me know if you guys are excited about the story too! 💞 Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! See you <3

[kimvvantae]

Weak Point; 1

⤕ It's crazy how life can turn upside down overnight. In your case, life took a 180º turn the morning you discovered you were the weakness of the most powerful creature in the world.

From a normal citizen, you become Jujutsu Society's most coveted target. In a world where everyone wants your head on a silver platter, plagued by secrets of the past and struggling to balance what remains of your “normal” life, you are trapped in a situation you cannot escape.

And yet - amid the chaos, you slowly realize that you might be his weak point in ways that have nothing to do with sorcery.

pairing: gojo x (f) reader

genre: romance, fluff and humor, angst, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, "oh no we have to live in the same house" trope, fix-it fic (kinda)

warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (in future parts), grief, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit language, me trying to be funny

rating: 18+

word count: 9k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!! First of all, thank you so much for giving this fic a chance!! - This self-indulgent mess starts a little before JJK 0. - Reader is roughly a year younger than Gojo. - We're gonna dig HEAVILY into grief, especially deceased parents, so beware if this is a sensitive topic for you! - This is an afab!reader situation, so no specific physical traits will be described. I am giving you a nickname tho, because I'd rather eat shit than pollute my text with "Y/N" ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) - And as usual, English is not my first language. Enjoy!! <3

⤕ Masterlist: soon! ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

It was a shift like any other before the kidnapping happened.

The emergency room is never a calm environment, of course, let alone of a big city. But the previous night, it felt that the gates of hell opened in the grounds of the Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital. It was that type of shift that let nurses with their hairs disheveled and eyes widened and doctors running from side to side and the endless noise of stretcher’s wheels around the halls and ambulance sirens and for fuck’s sake the coffee machine is broken again I will kill myself.

A shift like any other. Yeah.

There were two car crashes. Or three. You stopped counting after the third exposed fracture. A big festival happened in Shinjuku – or something like that – which always results in drunk people doing drunk people atrocities. There were a few cases of alcohol-induced coma, too, and a couple guys needing stitches on their faces because they got into fist fights. Also two heart attacks? Some old lady fell down the stairs of her home.

Yeah. Yeah, there was a lot of stuff happening at the same time.

Maybe that’s why you were so inattentive, that morning. The clocks marked 8AM; the sun had risen above the city and you hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe it was the coffee’s fault (or the lack of it, since the machine broke sometime past midnight). Or the energy drinks. Or the full pack of cigarettes you smoked. Or the salad you ate hours ago. Uh. There were a lot of things going on with you, actually, and not very professional on your part, but it was your second 24 hour shift that week, and you hadn’t really slept between the shifts, which meant you’d been awake for… huh… twenty hours straight?

Dad would’ve killed me if he knew, you thought.

Dad. Maybe you should’ve listened to your dad back then, when he said you should pick another specialty. A cardiologist like him, probably. Or a gynecologist. Some area that would allow you to work in a calm clinic, with a much higher salary and a more reasonable lifestyle.

It’s what anyone would want, of course, after years and years of studying: a respectable profession that gives you tons of money. But you weren’t like dad. You needed that adrenaline, and you needed the cigarettes and the coffee and the energy drinks, and you needed to be so overworked that your brain wouldn’t stop for a second to think about that other thing.

July 18th, 2017 – your phone screen showed. You only survived the 17th thanks to all of that.

Which didn’t mean your brain wasn’t reduced to jelly inside your skull at that point, of course.

“You look like you’re on cocaine.”

Remi stared at you with a mix of judging and concern in her eyes. She sat behind the nurse’s counter, while you leaned on it in front of her.

“I don’t.” You shrugged and took one more sip of the warm water from the plastic cup. Remi tightener her eyes.

“Your pupils are two black wholes. You look insane right now.”

“I’m fine.”

“How many energy drinks did you take?” Her perfect eyebrow quirked up.

“Not many.”

“This alone implies you had more than one. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

You shrugged again, half of your face hidden behind the plastic cup.

“Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed.

You weren’t annoyed at her. Remi was the responsible one, and you were the reckless one. This was your dynamic. It worked well. And she couldn’t really judge you, not while you spent the night in the seventh ring of hell while she spent her shift in the calm, silent inpatient unit.

“I’d rather be actually high right now, to be honest.” You admitted quietly. Remi nodded. She put some strands of honey blonde hair behind her ear delicately.

“Yeah. Me too.” Not so responsible. “Keito-kun was in Shinjuku… he sent me many photos.” A pout slowly took for in her lips. “He had invited me, you know. We were supposed to be there together.”

You tightened your eyes slowly.

“I thought you had stopped talking to him.”

“That was past week, darling. Things change.”

“Right.” Yeah, definitely not very responsible.

“But that’s not the point. The summer festival looked so fun! And there were so many hot guys there, too…”

“But weren’t you supposed to be there with Keito-kun?”

“I can multitask.”

You cackled. She followed. It was probably the first time you smiled that day.

You opened Mayu’s contact impatiently again. She had chosen some anime boy as her current icon. You tapped your index finger over the counter, trying to ignore the fact that your hands were shaking a bit.

“Mayu’s not answering me.” You mumbled. Remi typed something on her computer, not bothering to lift her eyes to you.

“It’s 8AM on a Saturday. No normal person is awake at this hour.”

“I think she went to Shinjuku behind my back.”

Remi pursed her lips and hummed. “...It’s the type of thing I would do as a teenager.”

“Me too.”

“So you can’t really judge her, can you?”

“Well, I’m supposed to be the responsible one now, aren’t I?” You didn’t plan on sounding exasperated all of sudden, and you didn’t plan on making your breathing get faster or your eyes widening, and maybe Remi was right, maybe you did look like someone on cocaine, and maybe you should really stop with the energy drinks – oh shit stop stop stop. One thought at a time. One thought at a time.

“Oh, come on. Even if she went there, Mayu is pretty level headed for her age. Much more than I was. I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s sleeping right now and you’re overreacting.”

Yeah. Maybe. You’d call Aunt Junko later to make sure she actually slept there instead of sneaking out (Aunt Junko wasn’t that great with messaging apps. You had bought her a new phone, but she only knew how to accept and decline calls). But how could you not be anxious and overreact if yesterday was that day?

You knew – Mayu wasn’t as affected as you were. She was way too young when everything happened, after all. But still, now that most of the craziness of past night was slowly leaving your system, you felt guilt slowly grow inside of you. Was it a bit selfish to choose to work a shift in such a date? What if she was upset that you left her alone?

July 18th, the notification bar showed. Yesterday, July 17th.

July 17th.

Shit. Stop thinking about that other thing. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To not think about it. So don’t think about it. It was yesterday anyway. It’s over.

Remi yawned.

“When are you leaving?”

“At nine thirty.” You groaned and massaged your own forehead. “Shit. Just remembered I’ll have to go home by subway.”

“Thank God, I wouldn’t let you drive in this state.” She tightened her eyes at you again. It was funny to see her going mom mode, even though she didn’t have children. “You should take better care of your health, girl. An ER doctor trying to have a heart attack? You’ll enter this hospital as a patient one of these days!”

You nodded tiredly. “I know. My bad.”

To be fair, usually you wouldn’t be so reckless. In a normal day, just plain caffeine and a few breaks to smoke would carry you through a full shift smoothly. It’s just that… it wasn’t a normal day. But you didn’t have it in you to try to justify yourself, because if you tried, you’d have to talk about that other thing, and you didn’t want to do it.

Before any of you could say anything, the soft ring of an electronic bell caught your attention. You tiptoed over the counter to see the panel of alarm lights. The little light from Room 32 glowed in green.

“Mrs. Hamazaki’s room.” Remi sighed and got up from her chair, sending you a pleading look. “I know you’re on your break, but can you cover me for a while? Just until Misa-san comes back. If a patient calls, dial downstairs… but she should be back in five minutes.”

You still had thirteen minutes left. Technically you shouldn’t, but you decided to shrug and walk to the other side of the counter anyway. “Sure.”

Remi patted your shoulder as you settled on her chair and put the stethoscope around her neck, disappearing down the quiet hallway towards Room 32.

Quiet. Real quiet, here.

You sighed, suddenly feeling an invisible weight worth tons over your shoulders. Sleep was finally starting to take space inside your head. Just the thought that you still had to take the subway – even for just a few stations –, shower, eat something and probably scold Mayu for going to Shinjuku (you knew her too well) made you feel tired.

But it’s fine. You’d have the next three days off, thanks to the two consecutive shifts you took.

You placed your phone standing over the desk, balancing it on the computer screen, and opened the front camera – just to immediately regret it. Jesus Christ, you really looked insane; your hair looked like a bird’s nest, dark circles under your eyes, your lips were chapped (you were so sure Mayu stole your lip balm)… everything about you was wrong. You immediately untied the loose bun and tied it again, trying to make your hair look at least a little more presentable. A small part of your brain tried to remember the last time you wore something nice, went to a hair salon or put makeup beyond just some soft mascara and blush… it was two months ago, maybe. Or three.

Fuck.

That’s the life you chose, right?

Nine minutes to the end of your break.

An annoying, familiar sound caught your attention. You frowned and got up to peek from over the counter.

Disgust immediately set in your stomach.

Other than the broken coffee machine or the new nurse that took ages to get a single blood sample or that old man that yelled at you because his case was sooo much worse than a car crash victim (he just had back pain) or the paramedic that gave you he wrong prognosis or the drunk patient flirting with you or that test result that arrived two hours late, that fucking thing on the floor was what made you truly feral the entire shift.

Except – you couldn’t sneak into the inpatients unit to complain about it with Remi, because apparently, no one else could see it.

It’s not as if you weren’t used to it. In fact, you were so used to it that you could fully ignore it, because that’s what adults do. Oh, you’re seeing a creature that looks straight out of Silent Hill? No, you’re fucking not. No one else is seeing it, so I’m not seeing it either.

It was also very unprofessional to be showing clear signs of schizophrenia and not being brave enough to confess it to a psychiatrist, sure. But it wasn’t a today thing. It was an always thing, because you’d always seen these things, and it was already so familiar that it didn’t shock you anymore. Maybe you could’ve done something about it when you were a kid, but now? At your big age? As you were so close to completing your residency? Fuck no.

This one wasn’t even as gruesome as the others you’d seen. But hell, how annoying it was.

“Chuuuuu…” the creepy little thing moaned. It looked like a rat – an obese, hairless, in advanced state of decomposition rat; its legs were too short and thin for the rest of the body, hence why it moved around slowly, dragging itself on the cool floor. And shit, it smelled so bad; its stench immediately overwhelmed the usual smell of antiseptic of the hall.

That fucking thing.

It kept chuuuu-ing in your ear the entire shift. It wandered around the ER room, and you crossed its slow path many times, trying to not look too insane as you avoided stepping on it. Even when you were far from it, you’d still hear the chuuuuuu and it was making you go nuts.

Again. Maybe it was the date or your maniacal mental state that made you so bothered with it. You’d see these things almost weekly at the hospital; they were all irritating, but they were also small and easy to ignore. You’d encountered far worse before. Yet, you just couldn’t stand it this time.

“Chuuuuuuu…” it repeated again. You grimaced.

“Shut the fuck up,” you finally hissed in something between a whisper and a yell, because you’d been holding back this entire time and now there was no one to witness you cussing at nothing.

Seven minutes to the end of your break.

The fucking thing looked at you.

It moved its hairless head slowly in your direction. Its eyes were white and empty. It… it lifted its head to look at you.

You froze in place.

You were looking at it, and it was looking back. It was looking. It was seeing.

That was new.

The thing screeched.

Like a rodent in a trap, but angrier. It… it looked angry, now. Its fat face retorted, exposing a set of sharp teeth, drool dripping from its mouth.

That was also new.

It changed directions. Before, it was crawling down the hallway; now, it crawled towards the counter – much faster than it was before. Towards you.

That was also very new.

“What the fuck?” You whispered, looking to your sides; the hallway was still empty. Your hallucinations were trying to attack you now? Shit, what if Remi was right and you were actually high? What if someone spiked your energy drink? Where the hell was that Misa-san she talked about? There’s no way– no way you’d deal with that alone.

The rat thing crawled closer. Closer. You got up from the chair.

“Shoo,” you tried, feeling a mix of urgency and disgust and sheer embarrassment because hey, were you trying to shoo a mutant rat that apparently only existed in your head?! You looked to your sides again, over the counter, waiting for anyone to appear – but the hallway was still dead empty.

It crossed the counter, screeching angrily. You stepped back and almost hit your back on a cabinet behind you. “Go away!” You whispered again. It only caused it to screech louder.

The thing opened and closed its jaws, biting the air around your feet. It was trying to bite you.

“No!” You tiptoed, trying to avoid it. The thing screeched so loud that it hurt your eardrums. It aimed at your ankles; its teeth were dead sharp, and it was drooling, and it was so much more disgusting from up close, and it smelled of rotten flesh, and it was going to bite your ankles, and– and–

“No!”

You stomped on it.

The thing exploded.

Its insides splashed around your right foot like it was nothing but a balloon filled with water, but instead of water it was purple rotten slime. You stood there, paralyzed, staring at your foot, the rat’s guts splashed on the floor – when suddenly, right before your eyes, its remains started to vaporize in black dust.

And then, in less than 5 seconds, there was only purple blood.

Or you thought that was blood.

That was all very fucking new.

“Ew!” A visceral disgusted groan erupted from your throat. You looked around again frantically (No one! Where the hell was that Misa-san girl?!), not knowing if you wished someone would see this or thankful that no one witnessed you murdering a… uh… rat? Rodent?

You were feeling its warm blood drip down your ankles and inside your socks, staining your white tennis shoe and the hem of your navy blue pants. That thing was real.

“Ew! Ew!” You whispered again. You hopped on one foot towards the paper towels on the wall, taking as many as you could and wiping the blood from your shoe the best way you could. I’m gonna get rabies, the thought crossed your mind, spiking your panic. I’m gonna get mutant rabies. I need to disinfect this. Disinfectant! Shit, I killed a wild animal or whatever that thing was– but I wasn’t expecting it to fucking implode like that! How did it get inside the hospital anyway?! Should I call animal control? How am I going to explain this–

“Excuse me?”

You yelped and turned around in a jump.

There was a boy.

He stood on the other side of the counter, eyeing you with a slight frown. His hair was a gracious mess of spiked black strands; he wore a plain white t-shirt and jeans. His eyelashes were ridiculously long (in a jealous tone), contrasting with his pale white skin.

Oh. Ooooh.

You eyed the identification sticker glued to the right side of his chest (remembering names is not a doctor’s forte).

“Oh. Hello, Fushiguro-kun. Good morning.” You swiftly threw the dirty tissues in the trash can under the counter, away from his eyesight. “How can I help you?”

Technically you shouldn’t help him because this was not your area and that Misa-san girl should be here already, but not only were you trying to not look so awkward and not let a visitor know you had just killed a wild animal inside the hospital – you had a soft spot for him. Everyone had, to be honest.

“Good morning, Mori-san.” You noticed how he didn’t look at your ID badge, he just remembered your name. Such a good kid. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that… I thought I heard something.”

Great.

“Really? Heard what?”

Fushiguro tightened his eyes again. Why did he look so suspicious?

“Something strange.”

Greeeat. The boy heard me stomp on a wild animal. Fantastic.

“Must’ve been outside, I guess. It’s really silent here.” Years of calming hysterical patients made you perfect the ability of offering a calm, unsuspecting smile. “Can I help you with anything else?”

Which was something stupid to ask twice, because there was nothing you could help him with… and you had tried before.

You first met Fushiguro back in April.

It was your shift when his older sister, Fushiguro Tsumiki, was admitted to the hospital.

She came unconscious in an ambulance with a shivering, panicked friend of hers, both wearing school uniforms. You didn’t remember the specifics, but they were out of school doing something they clearly shouldn’t when Tsumiki blacked out, in her friend’s words. Your first assumption was alcoholic coma, obviously, even though her friend denied it vehemently (what teenager wants to get caught drinking in school hours?). She also stated that Tsumiki hadn’t hit her head anywhere, which was true: there were no signs of concussion or any other injury anywhere in her body. No convulsion, drooling or bleeding. Her vital signs were perfectly fine. And yet, Tsumiki wouldn’t wake up.

Around an hour after she was admitted, Fushiguro arrived. You remember asking where their parents were, but he was so frenetic that you decided to explain the situation to him before they could come. You told Fushiguro about her health status. You explained that she was going through a tomography at that moment and she still had more exams to take, but despite the unconsciousness, she was stable.

Your shift ended. You went home. The sight of that lonely, scared teenager stuck with you – maybe because he reminded you of Mayu.

The next day, you discovered that Tsumiki had been transferred from the ER to the ICU. She was none of your business anymore. And yet, during your break, you decided to check her test results out of curiosity.

There were no signs of alcohol or drugs in her blood.

No concussion, aneurysm, tumor or stroke. Her brain was perfectly fine.

And yet – Tsumiki would not wake up.

You were always busy with patients. It was hard to keep track of each case, and after someone was transferred out of the ER, you usually didn’t have time to check on them. But that girl intrigued you (and pretty much the entire medical staff). She was not brain dead; instead, her brain was working on a low frequency, as if she was simply asleep.

An inexplicable coma?

The entire situation kept coming back to you, not just due to the sheer absurdity of it, but also because of the boy.

Fushiguro came to visit every day during the first month. Remi always talked about him. Other nurses talked about him, too, always in a heartbroken tone. You’d cross his path in the hospital sometimes, and when you did, you’d make sure to check on him.

Whenever you saw him, your heart tightened.

He did remind you too much of Mayu. It made you think of her in this state if you were hospitalized. It broke your heart even more after you learned they were orphans. The whole thing just hit too close to home.

It was one of these situations that made you wonder, if I had done something different when she arrived, would I have saved her?

These days, he visited the hospital once or twice a week, always alone – which made you genuinely worried for him, since he was orphaned. Who was taking care of that boy? You went as far as checking Tsumiki’s file again, only to note that they had a legal guardian (well, someone had to be paying for the medical expenses, right?). Remi explained that said legal guardian did visit her sometimes as well (and she didn’t forget to mention how hot he was, apparently), you just happened to never be there when he was.

Tsumiki was currently in a room down the hallway. The visiting hours started at 8 o’clock, and there he was, always punctual.

And still eyeing you with suspicion.

Boy, I like you, but you’re starting to piss me off right now.

“...No, thank you,” he finally said, stepping away slowly. “I guess it was nothing.” Fushiguro offered you a polite bow. “Excuse me. Have a good job.”

You watched him walk out of the inpatients unit through the door.

Only then did you breathe again.

Three minutes to the end of your break.

Shit. You were going to get late. Where the fuck was Misa-san?! In fact, where was everybody in this goddamn ward?! You rushed to grab the phone and dialed the infirmary extension, ready to yell at someone, taping your fingertips over the desk impatiently. You’d have to explain yourself about the mutant rodent later – and you wouldn’t bother to clean that blood, not after Misa-san pissed you off by being late. Is no one going to pick it up?!

Two minutes to the end of your break.

The soft ring of an electronic bell.

Great. Fantastic.

You eyed the panel of alarms over the desk angrily. I don’t even know who Misa-san is, but I already hate her.

But then – you froze.

The alarm light was glowing in red. Emergency.

Over each alarm, there were stickers with the names of the patients occupying the rooms.

Room 39.

Fushiguro Tsumiki.

Your stomach dropped.

You put the phone down and ran down the hallway.

Is this really happening? Is it a mistake? What if the alarm is broken–? It didn’t matter. It didn’t even matter that you were going to get late and that this wasn’t your job. That was Tsumiki, and her brother had just left the room barely a minute ago. What if a miracle had just happened?! You’d still have time to run after him to tell him the news!

Room 39 was at the end of the corridor. Without a second thought, you barged in.

You were greeted by darkness.

The curtains were closed. Barely any light from outside reached the room. You tattered the wall, searching for the switch. It didn’t turn the lights on.

But you could still see the outline of her body.

Laying on the hospital bed. The covers up to her chest. Sleeping peacefully.

And for a second, you thought it really was just a mistake; the alarm went off on its own for some reason.

Until you saw someone holding the button.

It was dark; you couldn’t really see. But your body felt it. Your senses. You felt it, with something primitive and instinctive inside of you, felt it with your soul.

There was something terribly, terribly, terribly wrong happening.

And it was like the world outside of that small hospital room didn’t exist anymore. You couldn’t hear anything behind that door; only the darkness that surrounded you, and the cold – it was freezing cold – creeping up your legs and arms like frost. Your lungs failed. Adrenaline pumped in your veins. You didn’t want to turn your back to that thing, because your instincts knew that was a bad idea. And yet, you knew you had to run.

You turned the doorknob in a swift motion.

But it was already too late.

You had time to feel an icy cold hand grip around your wrist.

Then – darkness.

Megumi felt himself fill with anger as he waited for The Idiot.

He tapped his foot nervously, bit his fingernails even more nervously. He’d been trying to stop with this habit, but these days it felt nearly impossible. Not after everything that had been happening.

And certainly not after what happened an hour ago.

Which is what made him angrier. At himself.

Because he didn’t feel that presence until it was too late.

Megumi was inside the elevator, making his way to the ground floor of the hospital, when he felt that. The undeniable, chilling cursed energy – so strong that he could feel it from the other side of the building; it appeared suddenly, made the hairs in the nape of his neck rise, made his eyes widen and his heartbeat spike. Made him press the floor button angrily as if it’d make the elevator change directions out of nowhere.

Then came the explosion.

It shook the entire hospital. It cut the energy. It made him get stuck alone in the elevator for solid three minutes. It took him another three to run upstairs.

But it was already too late.

The cursed energy had disappeared, but not the immense hole on the wall that it – whatever it was – created in broad daylight.

Inside his sister’s room.

Panic filled the entire complex building. He heard people yelling, running, nurses rushing to get patients out of the ward, the distant sound of sirens. There was no fire, however – what created that hole on the wall wasn’t normal. All of that was a blur inside Megumi’s mind.

A hole. Cursed energy. Something inside Tsumiki’s room, minutes after he left.

She was unharmed. Some debris hit her cheek, but other than a small bruise, she was “fine”. That didn’t calm him.

What just happened? Why it happened? Why her?

The hospital was packed with police, firefighters and reporters now. As expected, lawyers already tried to talk to him (desperate for him not to sue them), but it was no use talking to a minor. They wanted his legal guardian.

The Idiot.

If he even felt like coming, that was.

There’s no way he’s not coming, Megumi tried to calm himself. This isn’t just because of Tsumiki. Something strange happened here. He needs to check.

Though – maybe there was a tiny part of him wishing he wouldn’t come…

Well. That was too late.

The familiar black sedan peeked around the corner.

And there he was.

The Idiot walked out of the car with his usual nonchalant posture, holding an opened chocolate Pocky pack. Megumi half expected him to immediately hit him with a joke, or scolding passed as a joke, or downplay the situation–

But The Idiot looked in the direction of the East ward and hummed.

Megumi couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew the man was frowning.

Great. So he knows I’m not overreacting.

“Scandalous, heh?” The Idiot mumbled as he stepped closer. “Too many people here. I don’t like it.”

Ijichi walked out of the car as well, looking nervous as usual. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose while typing something on his phone. “Should I notify the school?”

“Yep.” The Idiot put a Pocky in his mouth.

He walked towards the reception, not waiting for anyone. Megumi saw Ijichi about to say something else – probably that The Idiot shouldn’t get involved before Jujutsu High took responsibility over the case –, but he kind of had permission to do whatever he wanted, so Ijichi stopped himself and pressed the phone on his ear with a sigh of defeat.

Megumi followed him inside the hospital shortly.

“What do you think it was?”

The Idiot shrugged. “Dunno. Gotta take a closer look.” Normal people weren’t allowed to walk in, but he simply ignored it. “Is Tsumiki okay?”

“Yes. She was taken to another room.”

He nodded while chewing. Megumi wanted to believe that The Idiot felt relieved upon hearing that, even though he had already said Tsumiki’s condition through the phone… but it was hard to tell.

“So, let me rewind it…” Megumi rushed to follow him into the elevator. “You were right here… and didn’t feel anything wrong?”

Megumi felt his ears get warm. He hated being reprimanded by The Idiot, and he hated failing, and he hated that it would give The Idiot material to tease him about it. The elevator doors closed.

“I did feel something strange… but…”

“You thought it was nothing?” The Idiot crossed his arms and pouted. “You let your critical thinking overrun your gut? C’mon, Megumi. I’m disappointed.”

“You can’t judge me. This hospital is infested with Grade 4 curses. You know it.”

“Oh, but I can judge you.” The Idiot pointed at him with a Pocky. Despite his words, his tone wasn’t harsh – it was carefree as usual, and perhaps that pissed Megumi even more. “You told me you were taking care of the weakling curses. You said everything was under control, isn’t it? Boooo.” He flicked Megumi’s forehead, which made him inflate with even more anger. The Idiot pouted like a child and stepped away from him, pressing the pack of Pockys over his chest protectively. “Don’t look at me like that. I ain’t giving you any.”

“I don’t want your stupid–”

Ding. The elevator doors opened. The Idiot walked out before Megumi could finish the sentence.

As expected, the hallway was packed with policemen and firefighters. The door leading to the inpatients unit was protected by Keep Out yellow tapes, but The Idiot simply lifted it over his head and walked in.

A guard from the hospital immediately intercepted him. “Sir, this area is forbidden…”

And maybe the fact that he was two heads shorter than The Idiot made his confidence deflate, or the off-putting blindfold, or the simple fact that The Idiot had this strange way of acting like he owned anywhere he walked into and it always made people question themselves. Megumi had seen this same reaction countless times before. The guard cleared his throat and made an effort to broaden his shoulders.

“Sir, you may not enter the area unless authorized. I must ask who you are.”

“Oh. Right.” The Idiot had the decency to shove the Pockys inside the pocket of his jacket, at least. His tone was a mix of nonchalance and passive aggressiveness as usual. “You were looking for this little guy’s legal guardian. Here I am. The legal guardian.” He patted Megumi on the shoulder rather aggressively. “His legal guardian and of the girl who almost blew up inside your hospital, you know.”

The guard went pale.

A middle-aged man wearing a suit nearby observed the conversation and rushed nearer. Megumi recognized him – one of the hospital’s lawyers. He pressed his hands together and smiled nervously.

“Eh, you must be Gojo-san, isn’t it? It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’ve been waiting for your arrival–”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The Idiot kept walking.

Megumi followed. The nervous lawyer followed, too.

The nearer they got to the room at the end of the corridor, the more people gathered. The Idiot towered over all of them, making his way unhurriedly while the lawyer babbled. As he stood in front of Room 39’s open doors, a policeman tried to stop him, but the lawyer hushed:

“This man can end our hospital’s reputation. Please, let him take a look.”

The policeman let him step inside. Megumi followed.

The Idiot whistled.

“What a mess.”

Megumi’s stomach dropped. The wall that faced outside was destroyed; the steel beams were retorted, the concrete cracked even on the ceiling. A hole with a diameter of at least three meters.They still had to verify if the structure of that part of the building had the risk of completely crumbling, though Megumi doubted it. Now, the view to the hospital’s back gardens and the street just ahead was totally visible.

To know that Tsumiki laid right there when whatever or whoever caused this much destruction was… to know that the debris could’ve caused her much more harm… Tsumiki, asleep, defenseless…

The man beside him hummed and held his chin. In moments like this, Megumi wished he could see through his eyes.

“Sloppy work. There’s residue all over the place.”

“So… you don’t think this is the work of a curse?”

“Nope.”

Megumi’s worst suspicions.

Curse users.

Whoever was behind this was intelligent. Had intent. So maybe… maybe Tsumiki’s condition had intent behind it, too…

“I just don’t get why Tsumiki was unharmed.” The Idiot said. “Why draw this much attention if you’re going to leave her behind?”

Megumi had been asking himself this the entire time. It didn’t make any sense.

He sighed and crossed his arms. “Well. I guess keeping her here isn’t safe anymore. Though I don’t think Shoko will be okay with moving her to the school…”

Megumi knew that. Jujutsu High didn’t have the necessary staff or equipment to accommodate a patient in coma; that’s why Tsumiki was in this hospital in the first place. They already knew that her problem couldn’t be solved by normal doctors. She just needed a place to be properly taken care of until they found a solution.

“C’mon. Where is Tsumiki now? Gonna take a look at her.” The Idiot turned around. Megumi frowned and followed.

“What about the cursed energy residue?”

“Just the usual. We gotta track it.” The Idiot shrugged and walked down the hallway back to where they came from. The middle-aged lawyer approached again, babbling about how he was so eager to sit down with him and settle the situation extrajudicially (Megumi wanted to punch him on the face. His sister could’ve died and all he cared about was not getting sued?!). Said lawyer got pale when The Idiot absently handed him a simple black business card and told him to talk to his lawyers (plural), as he had no time in his schedule.

They waited for the elevator. The Idiot started chewing his Pockys again, humming a tune and tapping his foot to the rhythm.

Megumi hated that.

How he couldn’t even pretend to be worried for Tsumiki.

That was when another voice caught his attention.

“You’re not listening to me, sir.”

“I am listening, ma’am.”

“Then why are none of you taking action?! I spent the last hour explaining the same thing!”

“And I have already explained how the protocol works–”

“I am telling you that my friend was taken!”

Ding. The elevator doors opened.

Megumi walked to the other end of the corridor instead. The Idiot tilted his head to the side, calling his name, but he ignored it.

That was Yoshida Remi. The blonde nurse responsible over this floor’s inpatients unit. Megumi already knew her well at this point. He noticed how her forehead had a small bruise, and there were band-aids over her forearms; she was hurt by the explosion? Her hair was disheveled, her face pale, and her expression a mix of concern and frustration. An unwilling policeman stood in front of her, looking like he just wanted to get rid of the situation.

“In fact, Yoshida-san, you have failed to explain exactly what happened.”

She gripped her own hair and groaned. “I… I already told you! She was taken!”

“By who?”

“I…”

The policeman sighed and made an appeasing gesture with his palms turned to her. “I understand you must be in shock, ma’am, after witnessing an explosion. I believe it’s best for you to calm down first and organize your thoughts.”

“My thoughts are organized! My colleague works here and she’s nowhere to be found!”

“Have you tried calling her?”

“I already said– I told you that I got her phone!” The nurse almost scrubbed a phone on the policeman’s face, shaking it angrily in his direction. “How could I call her?!”

“Excuse me, officer.”

Megumi turned his head to see The Idiot approaching as well.

He touched the policeman’s shoulder and opened a small smile. “I’ll take it from here.”

Anyone normal would question the guy with the blindfold, but the officer was visibly so tired of that situation that he decided to simply nod and escape.

The nurse was taken aback. “Fushiguro-kun? You’re still here?” He saw a load of guilt cross her face. “I am so sorry for what happened to your sister. You have checked on her already, right? Fortunately, she was unscathed…”

“Yes. Yes, I saw her.” Megumi nodded.

The Idiot stepped closer. “What were you talking about? Your colleague was taken?”

Yoshida Remi’s eyes traveled to The Idiot – and at the same rate she was visibly confused by the blindfold, she also blushed. Megumi tried not to roll his eyes. “Gojo-san? I-I didn’t know you were an officer.”

“Yeah.” The Idiot smiled, not bothering to deny it. “So? Can you explain to me exactly what you saw?”

She dropped her eyes and frowned; the nurse was so, so, so visibly confused. “I-I… I’m not really sure of what I saw. But I saw. I heard a noise coming from Fushiguro-san’s room, so I went there to check it, and…” She scratched her head nervously. “I saw someone, or something, grab my friend and take her away. Then the explosion came and I’m even less sure of what happened, but…” She looked up again with frantic, widened eyes. “But she disappeared! I looked for her everywhere! Look, her phone was left behind, and I found her badge on the floor, too…”

Megumi’s eyes widened.

“It was Mori-san?”

She nodded. “Yes! You remember her, don’t you?!”

Of course Megumi remembered her. He saw her just minutes before the explosion happened… and she looked suspicious…

Surprisingly, The Idiot took the ID badge from the nurse’s hand and looked down at it.

His smile had vanished.

So had his nonchalant posture.

“Megumi.” The black haired boy frowned at his tone – lower? More serious? “Let’s go.”

He also took the phone from the nurse’s hand and turned around without explaining anything.

“What? Are you making a police report?”

The Idiot threw her a thumbs up without looking back. “Yep! No worries!”

Megumi bowed at the confused blonde nurse politely before running after him. “Where are we going?!”

“We’re going to solve a kidnapping, silly. Ain’t it obvious?” He flicked Megumi’s temple again to his utmost anger. Luckily, the elevator’s doors were already opened, so both rushed in. The black sedan and Ijichi were waiting in the same spot.

“Good news, though.” The Idiot said while chewing more Pocky. “I don’t think this had anything to do with Tsumiki at all.”

“What…?”

The Idiot, as usual, did not elaborate.

Surprisingly, he sat on the passenger’s seat instead of the backseats, which for some reason made Ijichi sweat. While Megumi adjusted his seatbelt, Ijichi asked nervously:

“Where to next, Gojo-san?”

The Idiot hummed.

With his thumb, he pushed the black blindfold up to his forehead, exposing his right eye. His cyan iris seemed to glow faintly.

“...Hmm… Sanya, I guess.” He put the blindfold back in place and excitedly reached for the radio, immediately turning it up to an obnoxious volume. “I’m not picking any of your boring songs, Ijichi!”

The driver shivered.

One day, Megumi would land a much deserving punch on his face.

It was freezing.

All of your senses were slow as consciousness awakened again. No hearing, no seeing, no smelling or tasting. But you could feel that it was cold.

The second thing you could feel was your teeth chattering.

The third, a discomfort on the entire left side of your body: you were laying on a hard floor. Your neck hurt from the way your head hung.

The fourth was the fact that you couldn’t move.

You could feel your limbs, but there was no strength to them, as if the cable that connected your brain to your limbs was ripped off. Your body was useless.

That’s when panic started to settle in.

What the fuck was going on?!

Finally, you could see again.

The place was dimly lit by… candles? That was it, probably, judging by the way shadows flickered on the walls. Each breath of yours produced small clouds of steam. It was a relatively large room; the concrete floor under your body was wet. The place smelled like a butcher shop. Were you inside a meat locker? That should be it, judging by how stupidly cold it was. With your peripheral vision, you could see that there was a plastic curtain somewhere in the corner.

Your teeth chattered, but that was an involuntary motion. You could move your eyeballs and that was it. The rest of your body – numb.

A million thoughts per minute rushed in your head. A spinal fracture? Had you completely lost movement?

You were laying in fetal position: leg to leg, arm to arm. You tried your best to look down…

You were… mummified?

That was the only description. There was… paper wrapped around your body. Yellowed paper, old looking, with inscriptions that you couldn’t really recognize. From what you could see, only your head was free from it.

Panic really really really settled in.

Oh my fucking God. What is happening?! Where am I?! What happened– wait, try to remember. Try to remember. I was working. I was in the hospital. I stepped on a weird looking rat. My break was close to ending. I rushed to a room because the alarm was on and– and– what happened after that?! What–?

You heard steps.

It made your heartbeat spike up.

Shit. Shit. Oh my God. Oh my God. I was kidnapped.

It was more than one pair of feet – two or three people? You couldn’t be sure, as you couldn’t fucking move your head to see it, but the noise clearly came from over that plastic curtain. Low male voices. It made violent shivers run your entire body.

Fear. Fear. Fear. You were frightened. A type of fear you’d never experienced before. It was visceral, colder than the temperature, scarier than any weird creature you’d seen before. You were in an actually dangerous situation and you couldn’t even form a coherent thought.

I’m being trafficked I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m–

The second little person living inside your head slaps the first little person on the face. Shut up!! Focus! Try to think of a way out!!

A window–?! You couldn’t turn your head to see if there was one. If this really was a meat locker, there shouldn’t be any. A familiar sound?! Cars outside–?! Nothing. The only things you could hear were the low voices of the unknown men nearby and a constant quiet buzz. A board?! A flyer?! Anything that might tell you where you are–?! Nothing to see on your field of view.

The first little person living inside your head starts freaking out again. I don’t know where I am I don’t know how long I’ve been knocked out I might be paraplegic I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die—

You’re not being useful!, the second little person yells, making the first little person recoil and shiver. You’ve watched these true crime documentaries! The probability of living if you don’t take action now are less than 10%! Do something now that we have a chance!

Right right right. They still hadn’t noticed that you were awake; you could only hope there was no one watching you from behind where you couldn’t see. You’d have to take advantage of this before anyone crossed the curtains.

You could feel your limbs and the pain and the discomfort, so a spinal fracture was less likely. Maybe they had anesthetized you and the effects were beginning to dissipate? What sort of anesthetic was that, by the way, to render anyone in this state? Gosh— if it really was general anesthesia, you were lucky to be alive to begin with.

Try to move. It felt silly to try to mechanically do something a body does on the automatic. You focused your senses on your left feet; the strange blood of the mutant rat had dried in your sock, becoming some sort of crust you could feel very well. You could feel that the shoelace was less tight than on the right foot. Try to move. Try to move. A spasm. A wiggle. Anything. Anything.

But nothing moved.

No matter how hard you tried.

Your breath became irregular and difficult as real, real, real panic spread through your system.

I am going to die.

Both little people inside your head were screaming now.

I can’t move. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know who these people are. I don’t know what they’re gonna do. I don’t have a way out. I don’t have an escape plan. I can’t contact anyone. I am going to die I am going to die I am going to die I am going to die I am going to die I am going to—

Mayu.

The two little people shut up abruptly.

Mayu.

Fourteen year old Mayu, waiting for you to come home. Acting nonchalant at first but then getting really worried when you don’t pick up or text back. Mayu, going back to Aunt Junko’s house, not knowing what to do. Mayu, Mayu-chan, Mayuka, lonely and frightened the way you saw Fushiguro Megumi the evening that his older sister was brought in.

Mayu.

You couldn’t allow anyone to kill you.

You couldn’t just leave her behind.

Another feeling grew inside of you, spread like fire on hay; made the two little people run and hide. Overwhelmed the fear quickly.

Anger.

Who the fuck these men thought they were to kidnap you?! What right did they have?!

Anger mixed with frustration pumped even more adrenaline through your bloodstream; tears welled up your eyes, tightened your throat. I can’t be dragged around like a garbage bag! I can’t allow it! I have to do something!

USELESS BODY!! DO!! SOMETHING!!

It started like a point of heat — right in your heart.

You didn’t know what that was. For a brief second, you thought it was cardiac arrest — that’s probably what it’d feel like. It was hot, piping hot, made your blood boil, your vision blur in white; it spread through your skin, from your toes to your scalp. It was heat, it was energy, it was anger—

It was fire.

It was black. The flames — they were black; they enveloped your body, and it took a second to understand that this was not your imagination; you were in flames. You’d have screamed if you could. It took you another second, however, to realize that these flames weren’t burning you… not exactly.

They set the papers that wrapped your body on fire.

You watched in utter disbelief as the inscriptions on the papers seemed to glow for a moment before burning down to ashes.

All of that happened in less than ten seconds.

The black fire extinguished as if it’d never been there in the first place.

The strange yellowed paper that once enveloped your body — gone.

And all of sudden — you could move.

The cable was reconnected.

You got up in a jump; your limbs ached and you felt dizzy, but somehow managed to keep your balance. Your heart pounded in your chest, you gasped for air as if you’d been underwater, your fingers were shaking, you felt a terrible headache— and on top of that, you were tired as if you’d ran a marathon.

None of that mattered. You could move. You could run.

You didn’t even have time to look around, however — because the curtains were opened.

There were three men.

They were all relatively tall. The one in the middle had long black hair, an ugly goatee and tattoos on his forearms. Their clothes were pretty unimpressive. They… didn’t look threatening, not exactly — the one in the middle looked like someone you’d have beaten up in middle school — but there was something in your gut yelling at you to be careful, that they represented danger you could not deal with. Not just because of the obvious fact that they were your kidnappers. Not even because the guy on the left had a fucking katana strapped to his hip.

It was that chilly, strange feeling that usually meant there was a creature nearby.

You’d never felt this for a person before.

The goatee guy hummed and measured you up and down.

“She broke the seals. You shoulda made sure these seals would work, huh, Hideki?” His voice was raspy. Was he talking like a stereotypical Yakuza member on purpose? Did he think he sounded cool doing that?

“Ain’t my fault. The seals were pretty tight.” The guy on the left replied. Why was he also talking like that?! He opened a smirk, exposing a set of the yellowest teeth you’d ever seen. “This only means she really is the one, right?”

“Uh-huh.” The goatee guy smirked too and caressed said goatee. “Just like they told us, aye?”

“This one’s gonna make us a ton of money.” The one on the right said with a stupidly high pitched voice.

“Who are you? Where am I?” You felt stupid — why would they answer? Why even ask in the first place? In fact — seals?! What were they talking about?!

“Knock her out again. And make better seals this time.” Goatee guy ignored you completely. The guy on the left stepped closer, which spiked your panic once again.

You could move now, but what difference did that make against three people? You were weak, standing pathetically, shaking from head to toe.

“No! No!” You yelled when he gripped your wrist and pulled you without any effort.

“No one’s gonna hear you. It’s useless.”

“Fuck you!”

You punched his face.

It was a sloppy, weak punch with your non-dominant hand — not enough to make him release you, but enough to make him angry.

He gripped your hair with his free hand and pulled aggressively; it felt like he was going to rip the strands off the scalp, making you scream again — in pain this time.

“Fucking bitch—“

And then you were on the ground.

And he was on the ground, too. And goatee guy. And the baby voice guy.

And everyone was on the ground, because the roof had exploded.

You didn’t have time to look up or scream or even properly register what the fuck had happened before you were shocked against the wet floor. It sounded like a bomb had dropped over your head, and concrete and steel cracked like paper, and the sound was deafening and disorienting and it felt like oxygen was sucked off your lungs, and just like that — in seconds — half of the roof and the wall were gone, and it was all white because— because— the sun is still up! The sun was up and your eyes weren’t used to the brightness, and there was dust in your mouth which made you cough, and your head hurt and you didn’t know what was happening— what—

What—

There was a guy.

And he was floating.

Your brain was overloaded with information. You had stepped on a mutant rat. You had been kidnapped. You spontaneously combusted in black flames. The place where you were exploded. And now—

There was a guy floating meters above you, from the immense hole caused by the explosion. Like, an actual person. Floating.

Your ears were buzzing, your eyes were still adjusting to the sudden sunlight; for some moments, all you could see was a silhouette. And for a second, one of the little people in your head breathed out in awe and disbelief: Jesus?

It wasn’t Jesus.

Jesus didn’t have white hair, as far as you knew.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, confused and disoriented, the extremely high pitched buzz still ringing in your ears; it felt that your head was underwater. Sounds were muffled. You didn’t really see the moment he — Albino Jesus? — got down, but all of sudden he was hovering over you — his torso leaning down to look at you closely, his feet on each side of you.

“Looking” was a bit of a stretch.

He was… blindfolded?

And grinning.

“Happy to see me?” His deep, lighthearted (?), excited voice reached your ears through the buzz. You couldn’t help but note how his teeth were so perfectly white, the complete opposite of katana guy.

“What—?” You managed to mumble somehow, still feeling the horrid taste of dust in your tongue.

“Nah, no need to get emotional. We ain’t got time for this.”

He offered his open hand in your direction, and for a moment you thought he was helping you to your feet… but you heard a strange zzuup, an inescapable attraction, and then suddenly you were off the ground without doing any effort – towards his palm. Your back was glued to it as if he was a magnet and you, a coin. You saw yourself weightless, floating beside his body.

You felt like a potato sack if potato sacks didn’t have weight.

No. A potato sack is too nice. He was carrying you like a dog.

Your stomach twirled.

You wanted to take a better look at his face (what was visible of it), but the three guys were up to their feet again and you went cold. What was worse: the three kidnappers, or floating Jesus?

However, their reactions took you completely off guard.

They took protective stances. Their expressions weren’t mocking or relaxed anymore… they were… scared?

Frightened, in fact.

“Oooh?” Floating Jesus hummed in that same excited tone again. His voice seemed to be naturally loud. “You want this nurse so bad that you’re willing to fight me for her?”

What?! I’m not a—

“This is fucked up, man,” baby voice guy stuttered. “It wasn’t on the contract that we’d have to face Gojo Satoru.”

Floating Jesus pointed his finger at baby voice guy.

“So you’re not willing to fight. At least someone’s honest!”

Your brain didn’t properly register what happened next, partly because it couldn’t believe it.

Space around baby voice guy’s body twisted; it was like looking at someone’s warped reflex on rippled water. But that wasn’t simply a warped reflex or an illusion. He yelled in pain, a yell that came from his guts — and you watched in real time as his arms and legs warped with the twisted space around him, heard the nauseating noise of his bones crushing in different angles, saw the blood splashing from his wounds and his body falling flat on the floor.

Your jaw dropped.

There was no time to let that image sink in. The other two guys ran in different directions – trying to flee.

Floating Jesus giggled.

Your stomach dropped with your jaw when he moved, dragging your weightless body along; fast fast fast, he moved too fast for your eyes to follow, making everything look like an incomprehensible blur. In the blink of an eye, he was floating again above countless roofs; it looked like a residential neighborhood — and you looked down, and you were too high, way too high, and he wasn’t even really holding you, your back was just glued to his palm and what if he dropped you— what if—

You screamed.

“Don’t shout in my ear, woman.” He whined.

“We’re gonna fall! We’re gonna—”

He had moved again.

You were closer to the street this time and at that point you wondered if your brain was lagging, because how the hell could you be in a spot in a second and in another spot a second later?! You found what he was looking for — katana guy, running down the street at a speed that didn’t even look human. And yet, it was still not match for Floating Jesus.

He stopped in front of katana guy.

“Boo.”

That thing happened again – warped space, warped limbs, screams and broken bones and blood. You wanted to vomit. And he did it again, and suddenly you were in another street, and there was a car? A black car? And a nervous looking guy in a suit standing near the car, and you didn’t know what the fuck was happening, and—

“Megumiii, the last one’s yours!” He said in a sing-song voice. “Don’t let him escape!”

And maybe you heard a familiar male voice saying “understood” before the sound of fast steps echoing down the street.

And then finally, your feet touched the ground again.

Your body had weight. It was heavy, it was tired. Your head hurt, your stomach was still doing twirls, you were dizzy and confused and something inside your brain felt about to explode—

“Case solved! We got the nurse back!” He said in an obnoxiously happy tone— and maybe if you hadn’t noticed with the corner of your eye that he was about to touch your arm, you wouldn’t have done it.

But you did it anyway.

You slapped him.

It was instinctive. Your palm found its way to his cheek with speed and strength that could only be fueled by panic. The slap echoed on the street, turned his head to the side abruptly, made his cheek burn in bright red.

The suit guy gasped audibly.

Even Floating Jesus seemed shocked. Not that you could tell for sure because of the blindfold, but his jaw was dropped.

Yeah, your brain was definitely lagging. You could’ve said a hundred things. A hundred questions. You could’ve tried to run away. You could’ve tried screaming for help.

And yet, the only thing you said – pointing at him angrily as if he had called your mom a bitch — was:

“I am not a nurse!”

That was around a second before your brain completely shut off.

You had time to see the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

And then—

Darkness.

A/N: AND OUR STORY BEGINS!!! GOSH!! So much stuff happens this chapter. But I wanted to start this story with adrenaline!! Next chapter we'll have time to sit down and talk (hopefully) ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ If you read it this far, please don't forget to leave a comment or interact somehow! Feedback always motivates me to keep writing. Let me know if you guys are excited about the story too! 💞 Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! See you <3

[kimvvantae]

Intertwined; 5

⤕ Luffy and you were like two sides of the same coin: opposites in every way, but similar in what mattered the most. Tied by a vow made with the purity of a child’s heart, life keeps trying to tear you apart - but the vow that intertwined your destinies would not be broken so easily. Or, Luffy promised to marry you someday when you were kids. This is how he keeps his promise.

pairing: monkey d. luffy x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, toxic family relationships, death/grief, underage smoking, when i say slow burn i mean it

rating: 18+

word count: 11k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!! I can't believe it's been so long since the last update 😭 life has been beating my ass these days and I was stuck in a writers block. But I'm really satisfied with the way this chapter turned out in the end!! A little something I haven't mentioned about the fic yet (again): we're going all the way to Wano with this story :D Thank you so much for your patience!! Enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

Scarpia Virgus already knew what his granddaughter was going to do before she did it.

He could feel it. Her intent. Her hatred, which burned inside of her slowly like a calm but constant fireplace. The weeks of travel towards the family’s headquarters were mostly silent. Yet, even if she didn’t speak, he could feel the heat of her anger burning from the other side of the ship.

When they finally arrived at Scarpia Island, Virgus already knew what she would do.

He didn’t stop her.

And now, the west side of the mansion was partially destroyed.

He stood on the border of the crater his grandchildren caused during the fight and watched.

Crowley bled. He got up from the floor holding his scythe with both hands, ready for one more attack. His eyes shone as red as the blood that dripped from his wounds. Part of his shirt was completely destroyed, reduced to gashes.

From the other side, his granddaughter reappeared from within the cloud of smoke and debris. She also bled in many places. The girl twirled the spiked ball of her chain, her gaze unwavering, completely locked on her older brother.

They attacked at the same time.

The shockwave produced by their clash played with Virgus’ long beard.

The old man analyzed their fight with attention. They were both excellent, as was expected of Scarpia assassins. The untrained eye would not be able to follow their fast movements. Both of them had dominated the art of maneuvering their respective weapons. She was not as physically strong as Crowley, but he was not as fast as her. Both had their advantages and disadvantages.

On their current level, they were evenly matched.

That wasn’t enough, of course. They still had a long way to go. Virgus knew he could interrupt the fight at any moment – and he would soon. He wouldn’t let his grandchildren kill each other. But not yet. He let them exchange more blows. He let them feed their hatred.

She deserved to let all the anger she had been churning for weeks out. Crowley played dirty, after all. But at the same time, she deserved to be punished. Every wound Crowley inflicted on her wasn’t nearly enough to what she should actually suffer.

They fought with passion. Delightful, Virgus thought. Truly excellent. How incredible was to watch a fight so emotionally charged. How satisfying it was to know every attack had the intent to kill. No holding back. No mercy. As it should be.

The future of the family laid on their hands, after all. Virgus already knew that the other children had no chance to reach their level by then, nor the potential. Not everyone is born to be a conqueror.

But these two were.

Virgus just needed to pull their potential out. And there was no better way to harvest potential than by cultivating rivalry.

Finally, the old man decided they had enough.

He got in between them so fast that it almost looked like teleportation.

Virgus didn’t need to unsheathe his sword. He simply caught each of them by their forearms and threw them away in different directions.

Both of them hit opposite borders of the crater. The floor shook. Another cloud of smoke and debris.

It was over.

“Siblings should not kill each other,” Virgus said calmly. And yes, he was right; it was one of the fundamental rules of the family. But there was nothing wrong with trying.

Crowley got up first. He approached his grandfather at fast steps. His arm was turned in a weird direction, but he ignored it. There was a deep cut above his left eyebrow, covering that side of his face in blood.

“Grandfather, she broke several rules–“

“I know what she did.” Virgus cut him off. “I will take care of her punishment.”

“Father should be informed–“

“He will not.”

Crowley was taken aback before anger covered his face again.

“But this isn’t fair–“

Virgus looked down at him for the first time.

It was enough to make the young man swallow his next words.

“Are you trying to tell me what to do, child?”

“No, sir.” Crowley immediately looked down.

His granddaughter approached him as well.

Her steps were firm and fast. Blood dripped from her nose down her lips and chin. Her eyes, locked on Crowley the entire time. Virgus could feel it again, the hatred burning under her skin. At that moment, she wasn’t even intimidated by his presence. Excellent. Excellent. A conqueror’s soul does not bow.

She pointed her finger at Crowley.

“If you ever think of going to Goa Island,” her voice was ferocious. Like the roar of a tiger. It came from the depths of her soul, Virgus knew. “If you even think of getting anywhere near the Sambas Region, I will kill you. This is a promise, Crowley; I don’t care what happens to me later. But you will die first.”

Anyone would’ve trembled at the ferocity of that threat. That wasn’t his fourteen year old granddaughter speaking; that was the White Wolf, as she was already getting known in the underworld. A skilled assassin. Someone that had never failed.

But Crowley opened a mocking smirk.

Excellent.

A conqueror’s soul does not bow.

“You’re upset because I got an advantage over you. I found out about your weakness, and you don’t know mine… because I don’t have any.”

She stared at him in silence for some seconds.

Then – she smirked as well.

Poisonous. Dangerous. Threatening. Excellent. Most excellent.

Her next sentence took even Virgus by surprise.

“You didn’t find out about my weakness. You found out about my strength.”

She turned around and left.

Crowley left as well.

Soon, the crater was surrounded by servants that stood aside during the fight, analyzing the levels of damage. And along with them came the lady of the house.

Scilla looked around the destruction with quiet shock.

“What happened here?” She was calm and cold as usual despite the situation at hand.

Virgus closed his eyes for a moment and chuckled.

A dragon is bound to give birth to beasts. It had been decades since a new generation of Scapias were all predators.

The crow and the wolf would battle for the dragon’s territory.

And to think these two want her to waste her future with marriage, Virgus thought. Fools.

The future of the family was going to be interesting.

Virgus put his hands behind his back. “The kids fought. Siblings fight all the time. Nothing to worry about.”

He walked away.

Virgus broke her.

Over and over again. Repeatedly. Tirelessly. He broke her.

She was skilled. Landon taught her well. He built the foundations of her strength. But that wasn’t nearly enough. Anyone could hide their presence, kill an unsuspecting target. That’s not what he wanted of her. No.

He saw it, under the dirt and the mud; the underlying shine of the gem she was, waiting to be honed. A diamond right under their noses. She was born in the right time, in the right family, to hone that talent. How fortunate she was to be born a Scarpia.

But she needed to be lapidated. The gem needs to be cut, trimmed, polished, until it becomes an acceptable final product.

So Virgus broke her.

He broke her because he knew she could be fixed later. And when she was fixed, he broke her again. When she thought she had achieved something significant, he’d show her that no, that was not enough. She was not enough, not yet. So he broke her. Again, and again, and again.

Broke her body, because in order to get stronger, it needed to be broken first. Broke her spirit, because in order to get stronger, she needed to be away from any distractions, including – and most importantly – that boy. Broke her pride, because Virgus showed over and over again how insignificant and weak she was compared to him. How she didn’t stand a chance if he actually wanted to kill her. Because in order to get stronger, she needed to understand that.

The sea is full of monsters. But conquerors – these are just a few. If she wanted to sit at the same small, secluded table of a conqueror, she needed to be broken first.

Virgus broke her despite her betrothal, the condition that her body should be healthy for the marriage in the approaching years. No, he didn’t care – because she could always be fixed later. He inflicted pain, excruciating pain, and inflicted damage, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

Virgus broke her, until her targets became higher, higher, more difficult. Virgus broke her, until The White Wolf name made ripples through the sea, until that name – that title – began to inflict fear and respect. Virgus broke her, until her parents could no longer ignore the fact that she was being exclusively commissioned, forcing her to complete them, forcing her out of the shadows of this engagement.

He broke her, and she did not complain once. Not a tear, not a whine, not a cry. She wasn’t grateful, either, but Virgus didn’t care. When he looked deep into her eyes, he saw apathy. He saw resolve.

He saw hatred.

Delightful, Virgus thought. Truly excellent.

- PART 2 -

“I did not have this face I now wear…

I did not have these weakened hands…

I did not have this heart that barely shows itself…

I never noticed this change.”

- Cecilia Meireles

➛ 15

The bar was disgusting.

An old structure made of wood and clay. The planks under your feet creaked as you stumbled in. You could feel the sole of your boots sticking with how dirty the floor was – layers and layers of spilled alcohol, sand, sea water, and probably vomit, too. The place smelled of vomit. And human sweat. And cheap rum. Round tables filled with lowly pirates, bandits, or beggars that managed to find a coin or two in exchange of some booze. It was loud. You never understood why men liked to talk so loud. Scandalous laughter, random shouts, heated arguments.

It was good, you thought. Noise, even if they worsened your headache. Something to forcefully stimulate your brain.

If you laid down in a silent place and let yourself rest, you knew you were going to die.

You stumbled to the restrooms at the back of the bar. Shoulders curved, your figure hidden under the black cloak, anyone would think you were just another drunk beggar; no one bat an eye at you. Thankfully. Two restrooms, for males and females, though you doubted anyone cared or respected the badly drawn plates. Each of them had space for a single person at once. You stumbled into one of them and locked the door.

The noise out there was muffled. Still very loud and irritating, but muffled – which allowed you to hear your own panting.

You stayed there, your back leaning against the door, for what seemed like an eternity.

Fuck.

It hurt. A fucking lot. It hurt, and it was hard to ignore it, even with the help of Heavenly Control. No; it was impossible to ignore it.

You didn’t even want to look at it. The thought made you want to vomit. But you had already vomited – there was nothing inside your stomach to put out anymore.

You gulped, and even this simple motion was difficult. If the floor wasn’t disgustingly wet with water and piss and probably worse things, you would’ve sat there. No. I still have some strength to my legs.

You searched for the light switch on your left. The sudden light hurt your eyes. Fuck, you didn’t want to look at it. You really didn’t.

But if you didn’t, if you let that as it was, you were certainly going to die.

So, slowly, you looked down to your stomach.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The sight of your own blood was nothing new. Blood, in general, but specifically your blood. The wet, warm sensation of it dripping down your own skin. The smell of iron. It was so strong, even inside this filthy restroom.

The improvised bandages did little to not help in stanching the bleeding. You had ripped both sleeves of your white shirt and wrapped it around your torso – it was unsanitary and inappropriate, but you had nothing better at the moment. The previously white fabric was completely red now. The blood dripped down your stomach. If your pants weren’t black, you knew the left side of them would be red, too, the stain almost reaching your knee.

You needed to clean that. The wound.

Fuck.

It hurt to breathe.

You untied the knot. The drenched pieces of fabric fell on the floor with a gross splash. You lifted the tight black undershirt up to your chest, exposing your stomach and bra.

There.

A little under your left breast.

The gash.

At least twenty centimeters across your torso. Four or five centimeters wide, probably. It wasn’t a clean cut. The skin around it was ragged. That fucker used chainsaws as weapons. You were glad he didn’t make anything worse than that, actually; if your mind was a little less attentive, if your senses weren’t sharpened, if you were half a second slower, he would’ve sawed you in half.

Fucker. Fucker. You wished you could resurrect him, just so you could kill him again.

Usually, you didn’t feel anything for your targets. Apathy was a good ally during a fight. But you couldn’t not feel it for that man, not after he got so close to killing you. Closer than anyone ever got.

The gash in your torso wasn’t the only wound he inflicted, but it was the most serious. It still bled. You heard the gross sound your destroyed skin made every time you breathed; the sticky noise of blood, of ripped flesh. And there was something else, too, something you’d been trying hard to ignore – that little white peeking from the red flesh, right under your left breast, a rib–

You needed water. Clean water. That’s why you entered the bar in the first place.

It takes some seconds of courage, of gathering strength on your legs, to push yourself from the door and stand in front of the sink. A broken, dirty mirror sat above it, but you avoided looking at your miserable face at that moment. You opened the faucet. Your hand was bloody, so everywhere you touched got bloody, too. Running water. Clean water.

There’s the running water, there’s your difficult breath, there’s the loud voices out there. Loud, because men don’t know how to speak quietly, especially when they’re among themselves. Masculine environments are always so loud, so aggressive. You put your fingertips under the faucet. The water was cold.

“There are only seven of ‘em now.” A loud, deep, annoying male voice said out there, from the group sitting closer to the restrooms.

There was a small leather bag hanging from your hip. You usually didn’t carry a lot of stuff with you. The roll of gauze was almost finished. You had already used so much to bandage the other wounds around your body. You took a peace of it and put it under the faucet.

“Who woulda thought, huh? That the great Stork would have an end like that.” Another male voice. “Ships n’ ships sailing to his territory right now. Everyone want a piece of it.”

You took a deep breath. One, two, and then stopped breathing when the cold gauze touched your ripped skin. The piece was immediately drenched in red. You cleaned it the best way you could before taking another piece and repeating the process.

A mocking cackle. “As if any of them have a chance. So close to Dressrosa? Huh. Doflamingo’s fleet’s probably there, already. Claiming everything to himself. Greedy bastard.”

That first voice, the first men, hummed in a knowing way. “Streets are saying he killed Stork, y’know.”

“That’s not what the paper says.”

“You believe in the paper? Dumbass. ‘Course they not gon’ tell the truth.” He chuckled darkly. “Flamingo’s been eyeing his territory for years. Errbody knows it.”

It hurt. It bled. Fuck, fuck. You didn’t have anymore gauze. The sink looked like a crime scene. It’s just pain. I can deal with it. I can deal with it. I can.

You took the roll of bandages you stole from someone on your way to the bar. It looked clean enough, better than a dirty ripped sleeve, at least. You were used to bandaging yourself. Your limbs worked almost automatically, careful not to touch the gash and the – shit – the bone peeking through it.

“But that would be too blunt, wouldn’t it? Would risk his position as a Warlord.”

Another mocking huff. “You know nothin’, do you? When I say he did it, I don’t mean he did it. Or any of his people. He got the paper to tell anyone else to do it for him.”

Careful, careful. The roll was enough to take three turns around your torso – but that was still not nearly enough to stop the bleeding, not nearly enough to protect the wound from a possible – most certain – infection. It wasn’t not enough, and you needed Landon. He didn’t accompany you in your missions anymore, because you did not need protection or guidance. It was great, to not have him around all the time anymore, but you needed him right now, so you took the little Den Den Mushi from the bag and rang.

While the little snail rang, while the people out there still talked and shouted and laughed, you finally pushed the hood of the cloak off your head and looked at your own reflection.

You looked like a mess. The type of mess that means, I’ve been severely injured, I am suffering from extreme blood loss, I will probably need a transfusion. There was not a sign of pride, or triumph, after winning over a strong opponent – the strongest up until then. Grandfather was stronger, of course, but grandfather had never tried to actually kill you. No matter how heavy the training was, you knew he wouldn’t kill you.

You remembered Luffy’s saying of how facing a strong opponent was fun and exciting. You could not sympathize with that. You never sympathized with that.

Would you ever?

Probably not. There was no pride in this business. Just work. Just a successful commission that almost got you killed.

But successful, anyway, and this one would put you above Crowley.

There was a bit of satisfaction in that. But not nearly enough. Maybe the pain in your whole body prevented you from feeling anything positive, or this filthy restroom.

A bar, like Partys Bar, in the other side of the world. Makino always made sure to keep the restrooms squeaky clean. It was impressive, her dedication in keeping a bar clean. And you remembered that it’d been a year and a half since you’d last been there, but it felt like so much more; it felt like a lifetime ago since you ate chocolate cake with her and the Mayor and Luffy, where you could hear the waves crashing and the fresh air after a stormy night.

A lifetime ago.

Was Foosha Village the same, you wondered? It hadn’t changed much in the years you visited. Probably not.

Did Luffy change a lot?

He always looked a bit different every time you saw him. A little bit taller, a little less chubbier. But his smile and his sense of humor and his warmth and his energy stayed the same. Was he holding up well without Ace? Was he practicing everyday?

Stupid questions, of course. He definitely was. These things about him would never change.

You’d changed, however.

Not only because you got taller, or because you had a different haircut, or because your body and your face didn’t look like a child’s anymore, or because you got undoubtedly stronger. There was something about you that changed. Not in a good way. Irreparably so.

It’s the color, you knew. It was absent from your life. Everything was black and white and gray.

The way it was before you met him.

And maybe it’s a bit insane on your part how seeing someone once a year changed your perspective in life so much. How it made you have a goal, a purpose to keep putting up with all of this. The family, the business. How the prospective of seeing him again for a week or so was the equivalent of seeing light at the end of the tunnel.

There was no light anymore, or warmth, or sun. Your life didn’t have space for playfulness, giggles, sweets, or relaxation – not even for a week. And in the rare moments when you weren’t under intense training with your grandfather, when you were sent on a commission – they were getting rarer, more difficult, more expensive – without Landon’s supervision, you couldn’t even bring yourself to appreciate anything.

Not that there was anything to appreciate inside the filthy restroom of a bar with an open wound in your body, of course.

But it’s alright.

You had endured a year and a half without him already. You just needed to endure for a year and a half more. Then, you’d both be seventeen; then, you’d meet him again.

It’s alright.

No biggie, as he said.

You were stronger. It wasn’t enough, still; you had to get even stronger. Not only because you wanted to meet him again. Not even just because you hated Crowley with every fiber of your being and wanted, needed to be better than him in every aspect. No; you needed to be stronger for yourself. Yes, yourself. Stronger, so grandfather wouldn’t be able to defeat you. Or any of your brothers. Or even your father.

Stronger, so no one would stand in your way.

And that was enough motivation. A light at the end of the tunnel.

Alright.

No biggie.

Landon finally picked up the call, right when someone started to bang on the door aggressively. You told him the coordinates. Your voice was quiet and “normal”, but Landon knew you enough to understand you were not okay. You knew he’d be here quickly. Yes, you could trust him.

It hurt, and it bled, but it would be alright, because you could be fixed. You were always fixed in the end. Just a year and a half more. That’s it.

Alright.

No biggie.

➛ 16

If you made a list of people you hated the most, Ichiji would rank second.

Which was an achievement, to make you hate him over your other brothers that had actually tried to kill you more than once, since you only saw him once a year or so. He was the opposite of Luffy – meeting once a year, filling you with irreparable loathing.

You despised him. Truly.

Rude, arrogant, violent, despicable. There was not a good adjective to describe him, other than his physical beauty – but it was all destroyed by the rest. You recognized that he was attractive as a fact, not as a compliment. Nothing in the world would make you like him.

He was eighteen years old now, and did not resemble the lanky boy you met all these years ago. Over 1,80m tall and muscular; a strong jawline, plump lips, a surprisingly feminine upturned nose, the same as Reiju. They all looked alike, in fact (duh), and it honestly made you wonder where did they take that beauty from, since Judge looked like a blonde raccoon that grew too much and had been beaten with a bat.

You could almost excuse his stupid swirled eyebrow. Almost.

Ichiji hid his eyes behind thin sunglasses now. He probably thought it made him look mysterious, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes whenever you saw these stupid sunglasses and his stupid red hair and his stupid red military uniform. He was a Commander, now, along with his siblings. The stupid color coded siblings. Ugh.

You were so immensely grateful for your mask in times like these. No one saw your eye rolls, your disgusted expression; you didn’t have to hold back, the way you always held back around your family. Around your grandfather.

You always avoided speaking as much as possible during these “family meetings” – not that anyone bothered, of course, since it was always the men speaking about war or whatever other manly topic you could not give two shits about. Food was always nice, at least, but eating with this mask on was still a pain in the ass, so you could never really enjoy anything.

You’d been nervous about this specific meeting, however. Because Ichiji was eighteen already.

An adult by Germa’s laws – and most of the world followed this same law, too, though it wasn’t something certified by the World Government. Eighteen.

A legal adult. Ready to get married.

And he was a prince, and Germa was a fucking oligarchy, which meant the Vinsmokes could bend the laws to their will however they liked it. Which meant Ichiji was an adult, but if their spouse was at least two years younger – even if it meant they weren’t a legal adult yet - , the law would accept their marriage.

So you were very, very close to your doom.

You spent months tracing plans of action. You had enough money of your own – money you managed to hide from the family vaults, in international banks around the world. If this meeting had the objective to set a definite date for your wedding… you’d run away. Even if you weren’t powerful enough to fight your family – not yet. Even if it meant you’d have to fight your way out. You were not getting married to that man, not now, not ever–

But turns out, surprisingly, Judge himself brought the good news.

Germa was at war (they were always at war, goddamnit) with some country you didn’t care enough to know the name. It was the Vinsmoke children’s first time as Commanders of the army, which meant they were extremely busy, which meant they had to show off to the population of the North Blue as much as possible to increase their reputation, which meant it was an inappropriate moment for a wedding ceremony.

And you were so relieved that you almost could excuse Judge’s ugly mustache. Almost.

You wished this war would last long years, until you realized the thought was a bit too cruel even for an assassin.

After dinner was over, you found a way to escape their attention – you always did, and thankfully no one noticed your presence enough to care – to some empty balcony of the royal castle. You wanted to smoke – your fingers were almost shaking for it – but you couldn’t take your mask off here, and you didn’t bring a pack with you, so in order to not freak out in front of everyone, you looked for loneliness.

It was chilly, that night. Not a cloud in the sky; the full moon shone beautifully, painting everything in silver shades. You leaned on the marble railings of the balcony and breathed the oceanic fresh air. Germa was so… sterile. Bland. Black flags with the 66 symbol waved with the wind everywhere. There were guards everywhere, too, and you knew many of them paid close attention to you, even though your eyes didn’t see them. Observation Haki worked full time, now, thanks to your training. It was automatic, like a switch in your brain was on all the time.

...Everything about you was automatic, these days. More than you remembered it used to be before him.

An involuntary sigh grew within your chest.

Did… did Luffy miss you the way you missed him, you wondered? Did he think about you often?

You’d been… avoiding to think about him more recently. Yes, seeing him again was one of the goals for why you’d been enduring all of this – but on the other hand, thinking too much about him made everything more painful than it should be.

Not just him, but everything that came along. Quiet evenings. Hot midday sun. The humidity of Mt. Colubo. The animals, the insects, the plants.

...How long has it been since you last touched one of your sketchbooks?

You didn’t have time for any of that. Not under grandfather’s training. When you were not out in commissions, you were with him; isolated. You could not let your guard down around him. You could not relax, or rest, or let your mind wander around. You learned what happens if you did in the worst way possible.

You had scars now – and of course, you had scars before, but there were so many more now. Your arms, now hidden in elbow length black gloves, carried many thin scars from the cuts he inflicted. Virgus’ black katana, Tsubasa, was your close friend now. You knew its blade better than you knew yourself.

And you knew these things were making you undoubtedly stronger. You felt stronger. Anonymous commissioners looked for The White Wolf. You didn’t bother with lowly targets anymore; it was rare of you to even wander out of the Grand Line, where all the power in the world actually stayed. Your paywall rose from a hundred million to four hundred million in less than a year, and by the way things were going, it’d keep rising. Only you and (ugh) Crowley had such a high paywall for commissions at this point.

Urso, Saqr, the twins… you knew they hated and resented you both. But now, you didn’t hear threats coming from them anymore. They knew better. And then there was Ariadne, your younger sister. The last Scarpia child. But she was only five, hadn’t been initiated yet… and you didn’t pay much attention to her, honestly.

Yes, your training, the way you’d been carrying your life was making you stronger. It was worth it.

But it also made you miserable. Which is something you shouldn’t consider, given the Scarpia lifestyle. You shouldn’t seek for happiness. You shouldn’t seek for comfort, or friendship, or an easy life.

But you wanted to see Luffy again anyway.

Another deep sigh.

Fuck. You wanted a cigarette, too.

You were grounded back in reality when a new presence approached.

And you instinctively rolled your eyes so much that you almost saw the inside of your skull.

“Disappointed, my dear bride? Are you so sad you wanted to be left alone to cry?”

You turned around – even though you didn’t want to, but keeping your back turned to Ichiji was never a good idea.

His cynical smirk and his carefree demeanor were infuriating. You hated his uniform, and you hated the way he walked with his hands in the front pockets of his pants, and you hated these sunglasses, and you hated the way he had the audacity to even approach you.

You did not answer him.

Ichiji stopped a few steps from you, his smirk slowly increasing.

“Oh, I love how obedient you already are. Never talking back to me. I enjoy silence the most, darling, so it’s good you’re already used to it. The only sounds you’ll be allowed to make are the screaming and begging for help.”

You still did not answer him.

Ichiji tilted his head to the side. He always tried to make you fall for his provocations. You always resigned yourself to silence. Since he couldn’t physically hurt you, he tried to do it with words, or make you so angry that you’d finally lash out. You wouldn’t indulge him.

He hummed.

“You know, I think I don’t care if you keep this mask after we get married.” And you hated, hated, hated the way he purposefully let his stupid glasses fall to the bridge of his nose so you could see his blue eyes eating you. The way he measured you from head to toe, slowly, in a way that made you want to push him off the balcony. “Don’t really care if the face’s ugly. Just don’t gain weight, will ya?”

You still did not answer him.

Ichiji snorted and put his sunglasses back in place. He took one step closer.

“This only applies until I put a baby in you, of course. After you give me an heir… I will fulfill my promise.” He leaned in your direction and dropped his voice lower. “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

I will beat you up so bad that you won’t ever get to walk again. I will make you swallow this mask. This is a promise.

You haven’t forgotten.

Slowly, you turned your head in his direction – just to make him sense that you were looking at him, not just your eyes.

“You haven’t forgotten my promise either. Have you?”

Your voice was quiet, freezing cold like frost. You wouldn’t waste energy screaming at him. But he felt it, and you were so immensely satisfied that he did; the way you saw him take a more serious instance, how his body tensed up almost imperceptibly. Ichiji knew you were no defenseless maiden. He knew about your fame, about what you had done past year, and the fact that he still didn’t have great achievements of his own made him hate you. Envy you. You knew it. You’d been dealing with jealousy and rivalry your entire life.

If you try to touch me again, I will kill you.

That was your promise to him.

You could feel his anger and apprehension crackling under his skin. And yet, Ichiji resigned himself to opening a strained smirk. He wouldn’t try to do anything; he couldn’t. Quietly, you wondered how your fight would go if he actually tried something. Ichiji was half human, half machine – perhaps more machine than human. He was anything but weak.

The fight would be interesting, you thought. Maybe one day you’d finally have the chance to rip his heart off his ribcage.

But not today.

“I can’t wait for us to get married.” This otherwise innocent sentence sounded like a threat.

Shit.

You had to find a way out of this situation before his wish could come true.

Smoking became a habit before you even realized it.

A small way to rebel against the family’s rules, perhaps. You must always take care of your health. Which was already stupid to begin with – smoking wasn’t allowed, but being beaten up by your own grandfather wasn’t considered unhealthy? What were these standards?

A cloud formed in front of your face as you exhaled the smoke. Night had fallen over the busy city; it looked like an infinite labyrinth of little lights down there, from the open window you stood near. You still had a few minutes before security noticed something wrong happened. Yet, you were not in a hurry.

“Why aren’t you wearing your mask?”

You looked over your shoulder.

Ariadne stood quietly a few steps away from you. Her little face was hidden behind a mask with four holes for eyes and patterns that resembled webs. Though you couldn’t see her expression, by her tone, you knew she was frowning.

Indeed, you had pushed your mask aside. “Because I’m smoking.”

“But what if someone sees you?”

“No one is nearby to see me. There are no Video Den Den Mushis, either.”

She went silent for some moments.

“Why aren’t you wearing the uniform?”

Ariadne wore hers – the standard: skirt and jacket in black, white button shirt, white socks and black leather dress shoes, the only color being the red scorpion crest on the right side of her chest. You, on the other hand, wore a burgundy pinafore dress with a pleated skirt and a fitted bodice, with subtle ruffles on the shoulder straps. Underneath, a long-sleeved white blouse and a black ribbon tie around your neck. Knee high, chunky combat boots on your feet – these were more for action than fashion, just like the black gloves you always wore when working. A beret with the same color of the dress completed the look, but it was inside your small purse at the moment, as you couldn’t wear it if you had the mask on.

“Because I like to look cute,” you explained in a nonchalant tone. “And the family uniform isn’t cute.”

Ariadne went silent again.

Colors were pretty much forbidden within the family. When you weren’t around them, however, you’d immediately change into something more colorful and girly. It was also another small way to rebel. Scarpia assassins are supposed to be devoid of any personality traits; you refused. You liked to spend money on clothes and you liked to wear jewelry and you liked to feel pretty.

You smoked the last drag of the cigarette and dropped it on the floor, squeezing the sole of your shoe over it. It burned the carpet underneath.

Finally, you looked at her again.

Ariadne.

She turned six a week ago. You still remembered the first time you accompanied your brother on a commission: Urso was nine then. You were the same age as her. You remember seeing Urso struggle against his target, and he punched you in the stomach so hard that you vomited when you pointed it out. Other than that, the whole thing was pretty boring.

Ariadne was so much shorter than you.

Which is a stupid thing to realize. She was six. Obviously.

Six years old.

And she had just witnessed you murder a man.

The body was sprawled over the carpet in the middle of the office. It was an easy commission; it had been a while since you took down an untrained target like that. You knew it was because she would accompany you – an easier, safer target, as Ariadne would be in danger if you faced your usual commissions.

You didn’t want her to be here at first. Why you? Just because you were the only other girl in the family? Yeah, that was probably the reason.

The only other girl in the family.

Six years old.

You watched her in silence.

Ariadne stood obediently. Her posture was perfect. She did not move. A six year old child not moving. A six year old that already knew death, was intimate with its concept – the same way you were introduced to killing before you could properly speak.

That little thing was your sister.

It was a bit stupid of you to have this epiphany at that moment. You had six siblings and you actively ignored all of them. There was no family bond between you, no love – the only bond that kept you together was that of the blood and the anger.

But Ariadne was your little sister. The only other girl in the family. And she was ten years younger than you. What could she know and understand about the world?

Just blood and anger? The same way you were taught – until you went to Goa Island for the first time and found out there was so much more than that?

You remembered how pointless and boring life was before all that. You remembered how you envied Reiju and her pretty pink dress the first time you met her, while you had to wear the plain Scarpia attire instead.

You sighed heavily. Ariadne moved slightly, as if she received an electric shock. You noticed for the first time that you made her nervous.

Finally, you took the beret from inside your small pouch and put it on your head. You looked at your reflection in a mirror nearby and adjusted your hair before turning to her.

“Let’s go.”

Ariadne hesitated.

“Let’s go where?”

You walked out of the room. She followed shortly, running to match your pace. Her personal butler – a bald man you didn’t bother to know the name – followed as well.

“Young Mistresses, we must go back to the ship–“

“Don’t follow us.” Your tone was dry. You didn’t bother to look back at him or to slow your pace. The butler was taken aback. You could feel Ariadne’s surprise.

“Young Mistress, I must ask where you are going.”

“None of your business.”

“You are not allowed to do anything that isn’t involved with the completion of the commission.”

You stopped abruptly.

For the first time, you turned around to look at him.

“Are you arguing with me?”

You didn’t raise your voice, because you almost never did. Serenity and calm as usual. But he felt it, and you knew that he felt it – the frost in his veins, his throat getting dry, the hole in his stomach. The danger.

The butler gulped and looked down, avoiding your gaze obediently.

“No, Young Mistress.”

You still stared at him for some more seconds. “Wait for us in the harbor.” You turned around and walked down the corridor. “A word to the main house and consider yourself dead.”

Ariadne followed you quickly. You both entered the elevator.

It was silent for a few seconds.

“You can take your mask off after we leave the building.”

She hesitated.

“What are we going to do?”

“Buy you something cute.”

Ariadne didn’t say anything.

But you felt through your Haki that she was excited – and that, for some reason, made you open a small smile.

Tigerlily Island was a piece of golden heaven on the second half of the Grand Line. Home to many banks, casinos, hotels and entertainment zones; it was the land of the wealthy – i.e., the land of money laundering. Scarpia Family itself had a bank of its own in the island and a few businesses that were not only profitable, but also managed to clean most of the money coming from commissions. Tigerlily was a den of white collar crimes. As it involved billions and billions or berries circulating every day, the World Government was willing to turn a blind eye to it (as it was given a very generous “donation” monthly, of course).

It also happened to be surprisingly peaceful. Not only was it controlled with iron fists by a single mafia, the Tigers, there was a sense of camaraderie in the air. No one wanted to be snitched on. All of these criminals came with their treasure chests to make more profit, or lose everything in the casinos, or simply have a good time.

There was a murder that night, however. The owner of a bank. But as he died with his secrets, no one really bothered.

It also had really nice malls.

Ariadne was a bit spooked. She’d never been in such a crowded place before, and being without her mask scared her, but she got slowly used to it. You hopped from store to store. She didn’t really know what to do with herself, or which clothes to pick, and she was still nervous in your presence. You just let her pick whatever she wanted, even if nothing really matched or made much sense.

“I’m not allowed to eat ice cream.” She mumbled when the waitress brought a large ice cream cup with extra chocolate topping, even if her eyes gleamed at the sight. Bags and bags rested around your legs. It was way past midnight, and yet the mall was still crowded; Tigerlily never slept.

“Who said that?”

“Bill.” That was probably her butler. You looked around.

“Is Bill here?”

“...No.”

“So.” You shrugged and took a spoonful of your own ice cream.

Ariadne tried not to smile as she took a bit of hers.

Like everywhere else in Tigerlily, the ice cream parlor was unnecessarily decorated with gold. If it wasn’t golden, then it was pink. Tables were filled with couples and families; the air smelled sweet, which brought you memories.

Luffy would like it here. There are so many things to do.

You sighed and rested your cheek on your knuckles, looking at nowhere in particular. Just a few months more.

Ariadne eyed you silently.

When you quirked your brow at her, she stiffened and whipped her eyes back to the ice cream.

“You can ask me stuff if you want to.”

She stiffened again at your voice, as if hit by an electric shock. Thinking back on it… have you ever sat down to talk to her before? Well. No. You didn’t even know she could speak until a while ago. Ariadne had good vocabulary for a six year old, in fact; you also knew she already could read and write perfectly, though this wasn’t a great achievement for a Scarpia.

There were other kids in the ice cream parlor. All restless, loud, laughing, stuttering, their mouths and the collar of their clothes dirty with ice cream.

Ariadne sat in front of you quietly, always avoiding your gaze. All adult-like and polite.

Again, it made you feel something weird.

You waited until she gathered some courage to speak.

And yet, at that moment, your senses sharpened.

Your Haki. It took in a new presence nearby. While everyone else in the area felt like lit matches, this presence felt like a torch.

Someone strong.

A strong presence is always something to note, regardless if it feels aggressive or not. You looked over your shoulder towards the shop’s glass doors; the sidewalk out there was packed.

“What’s wrong?” Ariadne asked in a tense tone, noticing your sudden change in behavior. You didn’t answer; instead, waited.

Waited.

The presence was coming closer, its heat spreading around the street.

Closer.

The presence walked past the ice-cream parlor; you watched through the glass doors.

Your heart rate spiked.

“Wait here.” You told Ariadne without looking back, standing in a jump and rushing towards the doors.

The sidewalk was crowded – and yet, you could only see that single person, as if your sight could not focus on anyone else.

“Ace!”

He stopped on his tracks.

The man turned around with a frown at first. It didn’t take long for him to spot you.

His face immediately brightened with a grin.

“Wolfie?!”

A cackle erupted from within you; one so odd, already so unfamiliar – something you haven’t felt in years. Something involuntary that pulled you off your well-controlled state, turning off autopilot.

Because that was Ace.

He rushed towards you, laughing, his dark eyes brightening up the same way his lips did. He loosely carried a bag over his shoulder, but dropped it immediately as soon as he got close enough. Ace put both hands over your shoulders and measured you up and down.

“What the hell! I can’t believe it!” He giggled excitedly. “Look at you! You’re all grown up now!”

You giggled as well, suddenly feeling a tiny bit bashful. Ace was also very different from what you remembered: he was even taller, more muscular than before – which was hard to ignore, since he was shirtless, choosing to just wear black jeans shorts and boots. His wavy hair seemed a tad bit longer than what you remembered. Now, he wore a light brown cowboy hat with two smiley faces. A necklace of red beads sat around his neck, which immediately made you remember Dadan. His skin was much tanner now; he always had freckles on the bridge of his nose and cheeks, but now they had spread towards his shoulders as well, a testament of someone who lived with the sun, salt and sea.

Ace looked like a proper man now, not a teenager. And just by looking at him, you could see some things have changed inside of him, too – and not just in terms of power.

“Of course, it’s been three years!”

Ace nodded. “I was thinking about you these days. But I’d never imagine I’d find you in a place like this! What are you doing here?”

“I’m–” Oh. You looked back at the ice cream parlor. “I’m with my sister.”

“Sister? You have a sister?!” You must’ve mentioned at some point that you had siblings, but you and Ace have never actually talked too much about your life – and you doubted he’d remember anyway. Regardless, he seemed excited for some reason.

“C’mon. You want some ice cream?”

He huffed and crouched down to take his bag again. “And you even ask?”

You decided to move to the outside tables in the balcony for a bit more privacy – probably because Ace’s gigantic back tattoo was attracting way too much attention. Not that he cared.

Ariadne was more than surprised to see him walking in.

“Who’s this little princess?” Ace crouched down to get to her eye level. You were a bit surprised as well at the way his tone softened… have you ever heard him speaking like that before? Not with you or Luffy, at least. “Hah, she looks like your tiny clone, Wolfie!”

Ariadne looked between you and him with widened eyes and warm cheeks. She sent you a subtle questioning gaze – Wolfie? – before looking at him again.

Then, she stiffened.

“...Nice to meet you. My name is…” She thought for two seconds. “...Spidey.”

You chuckled. Smart girl.

Ace quirked one eyebrow. “Y’alls parents have a thing for animals, huh?”

“They do.” And it wasn’t even a lie.

Ace politely offered his hand for her to shake. “My name is Ace. Nice to meet you, too.”

She got even more flustered.

As the three of you settled and Ace asked for every single ice cream flavor available – the waitress looked panicked – you observed him quietly. You felt so stupidly giddy. That was Ace! After three years! He was a little piece of what you cherished most, part of the things that made you happiest in this world. And even though you thought you’d never see him again, there he was.

You eyed the tattoo on his upper left biceps – ASCE;the message behind that S was pretty obvious, so you decided to not mention it. The other tattoo, however…

“Gotta be honest. I never thought you were the type to sail under someone else’s flag.”

Ace smiled with his cheeks full of strawberry ice cream, looking surprised. “You heard about it?”

“Course I did. You’re famous.”

He shrugged. “I used to think the same, too. But things change. Whitebeard will be the King of the Pirates!”

It was surprising to hear that coming from his mouth. As far as you knew, Ace didn’t have the same ambition as Luffy… but he seemed rather supportive of his brother’s dream. Well. As he said – things change.

There was also the fact that joining the Whitebeard Pirates made Ace pretty… untouchable, in a way. Many people wanted him dead. You knew commissioners were willing to pay millions for his head. But Scarpia had a rule – and that was of putting the safety of the family above anything else. To incite the anger of an Emperor of the Sea by killing one of his pirates would not keep the family safe. Now that you were next to Ace, however, you thought this wouldn’t be a problem to him, even if the family took him as a target: Ace was strong. He deserved that 500 million bounty and the fame.

But you weren’t going to tell him that.

“So.” Ace said excitedly, turning his body in your direction. His eyes beamed – and a part of you already knew what was coming. “How’s Luffy doing? Is the idiot okay?”

And, just like that, it was like he popped a balloon inside of you.

You crossed your arms and avoided his gaze. Your smile faltered, even if you didn’t plan it.

“I… haven’t been visiting him, Ace.”

His shoulders dropped.

“What happened? Don’t tell me you guys fought.”

“No! It’s nothing like that.” You massaged the nape of your neck awkwardly. “I had some… family problems.”

Ariadne stared down at her ice cream glass.

Ace rested his cheek on his palm and hummed. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Well. You asked me that, back then…”

Ace huffed and waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, that? Don’t worry about it! Luffy is a crybaby, but he’s also tough. He’ll live.” He then smiled once more. “He’ll set sail in a few months, too, right? So you’ll get to meet again!”

You nodded, feeling that balloon inflate inside of you again. “Yeah, I hope so.”

Just the thought of seeing Luffy again made you fuzzy inside, which made you feel a bit pathetic. You looked at Ace again, desperate to divert his attention from you. “So, what have you been up to? Besides joining the crew of an Emperor, I mean.”

Ace beamed.

You soon discovered that he was much more chill now, compared to the grumpy boy you met years ago. His smiles were easy, his tone always welcoming and warm. You noticed he was developing slight wrinkles on the outer corner of his eyes, both due to sun exposure and simply because he smiled too much. Ace gesticulated a lot, happy to share his experiences with you – and even happier when he found out you’d been to the same places (though in the span of three years, he’d already been to more islands than you).

Of course – your stories weren’t nearly as exciting. To you, it was always just work; going to a place, completing a commission, going back home. Meanwhile, Ace would go on to say how he befriended this or that guy, stayed at that forest and that city, fought this or that pirate. He was a great story teller, too.

It made you both happy and sad.

Happy for him. Ace was never meant to stay in Goa. His life belonged to the seas – and it was obvious how accomplished he felt, as if the invisible weight that held him back was lifted. Ace was happy, and his happiness was contagious, as if he was an actual torch, enlightening his surroundings and spreading warmth.

Sad for yourself. Which was horrible. Self-pitying is disgusting and pathetic. But you couldn’t not feel the slight sting in your heart when you compared his life to yours. His freedom. You barely talked about yourself, because all you had to say involved your training and your commissions… nothing worth bragging about.

Just a few more months. Just a few more months.

Ariadne watched Ace speak with glow in her eyes. It was a bit funny, because you could relate exactly with what she was feeling.

“...but that was a bit after I left Wano.”

Ariadne widened her eyes slightly. “You’ve been to Wano?”

“Yep!” Ace slurped the last drop of his chocolate milkshake. Now the table was filled with empty cups of ice cream. She’d been keeping quiet for most of the time, so her sudden question took you off guard. “You know it?”

She looked down sheepishly. “...I’ve read about it in books.”

You could see this was a topic of her interest. Wano was a mystery to the entire world, as a secluded country under the rule of an Emperor. Simply off limits to most. You haven’t even gotten close to it yourself. It was definitely impressive that Ace managed to break into its borders.

Ace opened a soft smile and rested his chin on his knuckles. Ariadne got even more flustered.

“You remind me of a friend I met there, you know?”

“A… friend?” She fiddled with her fingers nervously.

“Yeah. Her name’s Tama. I bet you’d get along well.” He nodded as if he just had an idea. “When you go to Wano, tell her you’re friends with Ace! She’ll get super excited!”

Ariadne got more flustered.

“...Are we friends?” She was taken aback.

“Yeah!” He offered her his fist.

She hesitantly fist bumped him and immediately retracted her arm – but she could not hide the tiny smile in her lips.

Ace giggled and looked back at you. “She’s so much like you.”

“You think so?”

He hummed. “In appearance, at least. You were more annoying.” Ace poked Ariadne’s side, making her giggle for the first time (had you ever seen that girl giggle before?) and pointed at you with his thumb. “D’you know that, Spidey? Your sister here was a pain in the ass. You’re much nicer.”

“What? You were annoying!” You punched his arm jokingly and laughed. “You were a prick, in fact.”

He gasped in a dramatic way and put his hand over his chest. “Me?! A prick?! But I’m the nicest guy in the world! Tell her, Spidey!”

Ariadne laughed a bit louder.

And at that moment, something familiar filled you.

The sound of laughter, of Ace’s loud voice and Ariadne’s sheepish giggling. The smell of sweets and the aftertaste of ice cream in your tongue. The city full of life around you, the gentle night breeze.

You were happy for the first time since that afternoon when you said goodbye.

It felt nice.

The sun was already rising when Ace said goodbye.

He ruffled Ariadne’s hair (making her blush) and hugged you (making you blush. He’d never done that before. And he was still shirtless). Ace was definitely someone different now.

“I told you, remember? That we’d end up bumping into each other in the New World.”

“Yeah.” It was your turn to fiddle with your fingers nervously. You were still not great with goodbyes. “So… until next time, I guess?”

“Let’s meet again sooner this time!” He grinned mischievously. “Luffy will be out in the sea soon. We should all meet up and beat his ass, now that we’re both stronger than him!”

You laughed and nodded. The idea sounded funny enough. “Agreed!”

You watched Ace go, waving back at you two excitedly, with a big smile plastered over his face. Ariadne waved back with smaller movements. You stood there until he disappeared amid the crowd – but you could still feel him, the torch, brighter and warmer than anyone else in that island.

Just imagining you, Luffy and Ace reunited – this nicer Ace – was enough to make you smile.

But for now, it was time to go back to your life. You weren’t free yet, and you already abused your luck for the day.

“Let’s go.” You told Ariadne, picking some bags from the floor while she took others. It felt like each step you took away from Ace made the colors of life fade bit by bit.

Fuck.

You lit a cigarette while balancing the bags on your other arm.

“He’s weird.” Ariadne said after a while.

“You think so?”

She looked down with a thoughtful expression. “When you go to Wano, he said. As if I’d ever go there.”

You took a drag and quirked one eyebrow. “But you want to go there, right?” Her expression softened. She looked to her sides, as if afraid anyone would see her nod. Unfortunately, you understood her apprehension very well. “So why would you never go?”

Ariadne looked up at you for the first time as if you were insane. “Because I can’t.”

“You weren’t supposed to be out in the city shopping past midnight, were you? But here we are.” You shrugged.

“But that’s because I’m with you.”

“So, if you want to go to Wano, you have to be strong like me.”

That made her think. After a while, she nodded, because that made sense in her head. Of course it made sense. That’s the Scarpia way of life: strength is the only answer.

Yet, at the same time, it made you think of Ariadne – six years old, small, quiet and introspective, having to go through everything you’d been through in order to get stronger.

You didn’t like that.

Something inside you wished she’s just be able to do whatever she wanted without facing any pain.

You are a Scarpia. Life will never be kind to you.

That was the reality she was chained to – and there was nothing you could do about it.

For now, having some nice clothes and ice cream at inappropriate hours would have to suffice.

➛ 17

You were destroyed.

Arms, legs, head, stomach. Everything hurt. Your limbs were bandaged. Each movement sent waves of pain through your body. It’d been days, but you still couldn’t eat.

None of that mattered anymore, because a News Coo dropped the paper from the sky.

And in between the pages, there was a new bounty warning.

It felt almost supernatural that you caught the newspaper before any of the butlers could. How it fell on your hands. How that warning slipped from between the pages and you crouched down to take it.

The moment your eyes laid on it – the pain was gone.

All the things that hurt you, that made you feel miserable, grandfather’s training, everything – everything was brushed aside. The uncontrollable laughter that erupted from your chest, the shaking of your fingertips, your increased heartbeat.

Everything else was little, easy to ignore.

It was him. Him, grinning in that photo. His name, his bounty of 30 million.

And for a moment, you felt silly for wondering for the past months if he really would set sail, if he’d still keep that dream. Many things can change in three years. What if he had changed his mind? What if he decided to lead his life in another path and you’d simply never meet him again?

You should’ve never doubted him.

That same day, you accepted a commission in Paradise.

Tracking them down wouldn’t be hard if you weren’t forbidden to see him.

You could get information on anyone from any known corner of the world if you wanted; you just needed to make a call. But that would slip into Crowley’s ears and you couldn’t risk that. So, taking advantage over the fact that no butler followed you anymore, you took your time to investigate their whereabouts.

Fortunately, he made it pretty easy for you.

Once again, you felt an involuntary fit of laughter escape when you found another bounty warning – this time, glued to the wall of a bar. The entire city was talking about it: how this newbie pirate and his crew defeated a Warlord. Because of course Luffy would defeat a Warlord less than a year into his career.

Judging by the place they were last seen, there were three possible islands that their Log Pose could lead them.

You chose one based purely on instinct.

It was a small city with markets and fairs – the perfect place to replenish supplies. It had many harbors which were always packed with ships, including ships from the Marine. The economy of that island was solely based on it. Albeit small, the city had a constant crowd of travelers. It wasn’t particularly pretty, but the constant summer weather was nice.

You had arrived past night, slept in the simple room of an inn. Some wounds in your torso still hurt, but most of the bandaging was already unnecessary. Any pain you could possibly still feel was brushed aside.

Maybe you chose the wrong island. Maybe they’d sail past it and you’d lose the track. Maybe they were already way too far for you to reach them, and you had to report back to the main house before the situation got too suspicious. There were a million possibilities.

Or maybe– maybe you’d actually find him, but he wouldn’t care? What if he forgot about you? He had a bad memory.What if meeting you would be an inconvenience? He had his crew and his ship to take care of, after all… and you never agreed on a certain place or time to meet. Maybe you’d slow him down. Maybe he’d rather meet you in a different place at a different time.

This simple thought was torturous. After everything you had endured… if he acted nonchalant, if he simply didn’t remember – it’d break you in half more than anything grandfather or Crowley ever did. What would you even do? Well, you had your plan of running away before the wedding could happen, but what about after that? What would even be the point of–

An explosion.

It shook the floor. Made the people on the street look around in confusion.

A presence.

A presence. A presence. A presence at East.

A presence you hadn’t felt in over three years.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins.

You jumped over the roof of the nearest building, spotting a cloud of smoke in the distance. The noises of a fight… shots? Screams?

That presence that presence that presence–

You ran.

Jumping from roof to roof, getting closer to the source of that commotion. Soon, you saw Marine soldiers running down there on the street, carrying their guns. You’d seen a Marine ship docked past night… they yelled orders, following someone. You jumped to the bell tower of a church nearby, trying to get a better view–

And you saw it.

The top of a familiar straw hat.

Down there, running in zig zag to mislead the troop that chased him.

At that moment, it was like the world bloomed with colors again, its starting point being the red of his shirt.

Your fists tightened, and they were shaking. It was like your soul was shaking at that moment. You gathered all the air in your lungs for what you were about to say.

“Luffy!!”

Your voice echoed in the bell tower, equalizing its sound to the entire square down there.

You watched as he skidded on the stone floor, suddenly stopping on his tracks, one hand over the hat to keep it in place. The troopers were getting closer. And yet, he took his time to look around frantically with a frown.

You saw the exact moment he spotted you. The single second of apprehension that followed.

You saw, from that distance, the moment his face brightened up with a grin.

You saw him ignore the troopers and make the opposite way, jumping over their heads and landing on a nearby roof. You heard the familiar sound of his arm stretching, gripping around the pillar of the bell tower so he could propel himself like a cannonball. And you heard his laughter from that distance – his loud, boisterous laughter that sounded a bit different, but also the same.

“Wolfie!!”

He was still mid air when his arms wrapped around you.

And maybe it was a bit cheesy how the doves resting on the tower got scared and flew away the moment you hugged him back, engulfing you in a mess of white feathers. Maybe it was a bit cheesy how the bell rang, loud and clear, indicating the midday, at that exact moment. Yeah, it was totally cheesy how the troopers shots sounded like fireworks in the back of your head.

But it didn’t matter, because it was Luffy, it was him, and he was hugging you, and you were hugging him, and he was warm, and he was giggling with his face on your shoulder, and you were giggling back.

Three years of pain, of loneliness, of creating a tougher persona; it all dissolved in three seconds.

The wait was over.

A/N: I LOVE CLIFFHANGERS :D

One Piece's canon timeline is pretty insane. Romance Dawn to Alabasta happens in the span of like a month, and it'd be pretty impossible for anyone to travel from the New World to Paradise this fast, unless they were right by the Red Line. SO! For the sake of fic making sense, we'll pretend that all these events took a few months to happen, so our girl actually has the beliavable time to travel this far!

Reader is supposed to be Luffy's opposite in many ways, and that includes fashion. I like the idea that she dresses all preppy and doll-like in contrast to his more laid back, nonchalant style. That being said, not to be too Wattpad-y, but I imagine this is how she dresses most of the time (also bc she's inspired by Gogo Yubari lol). You can ignore it if you don't like it tho

If you read this far, please don't forget to leave a comment!! Your comments always brighten up my day. I'm so exicted to the following chapters!!! See you <3

[kimvvantae]

Samsara; 2

⤕ She was plagued. Shadows loomed over her mind. She was alone in a world where no one dared to look into the occult. She missed the faceless man from her dreams, the one her soul longed for. She wanted to meet him again.

He was plagued. Alucard had loved countless times. There was one love he was never able able to forget, however; the one that was ripped away from him. He knew they could never meet again.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: reincarnation, angst, romance, smut, hurt/comfort

warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex, mental health issues, blasphemy (?), reader is a girl kisser, century xix misoginy, mentioned suicide and rape (very brief, non descriptive)

rating: 18+

word count: 12k

A/N: gosh this ch got so long. but i'm very proud of this one!! - when writing this fic, i like to imagine @/viccerys' version of alucard! their fanarts are absolutely gorgeous and i love their interpretation of him! - i'm really into 80s rock/love ballads so i listened to looking for love by whitesnake on repeat while writing this chapter. feedback as usual is much appreciated! enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

Sometimes, you wondered if everyone else was right about you.

Flourished imagination. Excessive daydreaming. Not wanting to face reality. Maybe it was all in your head. Maybe the things you saw and felt were really not real. Of course… you didn’t doubt your premonitory dreams and visions. Those were way too accurate to not be real. But...the shivers? The sudden overwhelming discomfort that made you want to rip your hair off your scalp, scream, lay on the floor in fetal position? What if it was just some sort of brain disease?

Maybe that was why your stomach was turning. Maybe that was why the tiny hairs in the back of your neck were raising. Maybe that was why you felt this sudden cold creep under your skin as you approached the ceremony hall.

It was either that… or there was something horribly wrong about that place.

You didn’t want to get inside.

The feeling got worse and worse and worse as you approached it. Clara spoke some encouraging words on the way (“You look stunning!” or “It’ll all be okay. No one will hurt you.”), but you barely listened as a strange buzzing sound muffled your ears. It was… it was as if fog covered the area around the ceremony hall and the garden. But Clara didn’t mention fog, so you assumed only you could see it.

You didn’t want to get inside.

Your body was begging you to turn around and run.

DANGER, something in your mind screamed — as if there was a wild animal there. Your heart raced. Your fingertips trembled. Turn around and run. Turn around and run. Turn around and run.

But maybe it was all in your head.

The hall was filled with people that laughed at you, made rumors about you for fun. You knew many more rumors would surface after that night simply because you attended. And you knew that man was there — Alfred Zardini… your future husband. The first time you’d see him in person. And you didn’t want to see him. You didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

So… maybe that was why your brain was reacting that way. Scared of being in a situation that would cause so much discomfort. Maybe that is why it was heightening your senses as if you were about to face great danger.

But you didn’t want to embarrass yourself anymore. Not in front of the entire city. Not when it’d bring Clara more shame.

So you tried to take a deep breath.

This time it is all in your head. Relax. It’s just people. It’s just people.

You walked behind Clara into the hall.

And the moment you stepped inside—

You knew.

It was not all in your head.

There was something horribly, horribly wrong about that place.

It made you want to vomit. It made you want to run. The fog was inside the hall, too, and the smell— God, the stench. It was rancid and disgusting and you didn’t want to breathe anymore. And— and that black mud— it was everywhere, dripping from the curtains and soaking the floor and making everyone’s clothes dirty with it… what the fuck was that black mud?! Why wasn’t anyone else seeing it?! How could they not feel that stench?!

Turn around and run. Turn around and run.

It was loud. Loud loud loud loud. The music playing. The chatter. The voices. Not spoken voices — the voices that reached your mind, not your ears. Their thoughts. Their feelings and emotions. Everything reached you from all sides, bombarding you with more information than what you could bear. You were the center of attention— and you felt it, the mocking, the contempt, the curiosity. They were expecting you to yell all of sudden or embarrass yourself. But you actually wanted to run away this time — you wanted to run run run and hide, you wanted to take these clothes off because the gown was way too heavy and didn’t let you breathe and oh my God I am suffocating I am suffocating I will pass out I don’t want to be here no please please please—

Don’t embarrass yourself, the somewhat sane part of your brain tried. Don’t embarrass your sister in front of all of these people.

But I don’t want to be here. There’s something wrong here. Something evil.

Some of Clara’s and Julien’s friends came to greet you. You tried to smile, tried to not look so nauseous— but how could you when this disgusting black mud was everywhere, even on their teeth? How could they not feel that stench?

Don’t embarrass your sister. Don’t embarrass your sister.

Voices popped up in your mind. Miss Salles. That pretty thing is crazy. Clara is brave for bringing her along. Mr. Zardini might be insane too for wanting her as a wife.

Mr. Zardini.

No no no no no. You didn’t want to meet him. Not only because you didn’t want it from the start — but right now? As you felt about to spit your own guts out? As you could barely breathe? You simply had no conditions to hold a decent conversation with anyone. He’ll laugh at me. Everyone will laugh at me. Please, don’t approach me. Please, I just want to be alone.

The musical group started another song. Something a bit more agitated. Couples swiftly floated to the center of the hall to dance. The hem of their gowns — they were drenched in that black mud. I’m gonna vomit.

And then you spotted him across the hall, slowly making his way towards you.

No no no no no please no no no. He looked exactly like the painting in the locket — and it didn’t make it any better. He… he could very well be your father. No no no don’t approach me. Stay away from me. No no no I don’t want to marry you I don’t want to be your wife.

You could barely breathe.

Turn around and run. Turn around and run. Turn around and run. Turn around and run-

And then—

Then—

The world stopped.

It went silent.

Suddenly, the overwhelming cacophony halted. You couldn’t hear voices or thoughts or feelings anymore. Your vision blurred.

You couldn’t focus on anything else but the man standing in front of you.

He… Where did he come from? You had no idea. He blocked the sight of Mr. Zardini behind him… and everything else, too.

Your eyes widened slightly. A soft gasp that you couldn’t hold back escaped.

He was beautiful.

No… beautiful was an inappropriate adjective to describe him. He was something that couldn’t be properly conveyed in words.

The stranger was tall — perhaps the tallest person in the hall. His hair was a long, wavy waterfall of pure white strands that cascaded over his broad shoulders. His skin was porcelain white… had you ever seen someone so pale before? But surprisingly, his skin tone didn’t make him look sick. It contrasted greatly with his golden eyes — literally golden, you realized; not hazel. Golden. Like melted gold. Each facial feature seemed symmetrically measured to perfection; his nose, lips, eyebrows, jawline… he wore an elegant black attire with only a few golden details and buttons of his coat. It was simpler than what most men around him wore, but he didn’t need anything more luxurious to stand out.

He was the only person not drenched in this strange black mud. He was clean.

His eyes were serene. In his lips, a small — even charming — lip tightened smile.

Your eyes widened even more when, with the elegance of a swan, he bowed politely and offered you a gloved hand.

“Ms. Salles, may I have this dance?”

And then, you couldn’t breathe anymore.

Not because of the horrible feeling of danger hovering in the air. Not because of the anxiety. Not even because he was embarrassingly handsome.

But because of his voice.

It was deep. Quiet. Husky. Seemed to reverberate in your bones.

And you’d heard it before.

In your dreams.

The faceless man…

The voice of reason spoke again. Don’t embarrass your sister.

You couldn’t leave him waiting. But… but you were supposed to dance with Mr. Zardini, right? Wouldn’t… wouldn’t he be offended…?

But you didn’t care about Zardini. Not at all.

So, somehow, you remembered how to move. You remembered how to blink and open a demure smile. You remembered how to pick your skirt and bob a polite curtsy.

You remembered how to take his hand.

And for the first time, you wished you weren’t wearing gloves.

Physical touch was… most times, unbearable — because you could feel people through their skin. Their emotions and sometimes even their thoughts. Of course… being in this hall full of people made you feel them as well, but it was like standing near a furnace: you could feel its heat. Physical touch was like putting your hand inside the furnace. You couldn’t control that; it was uncalled for, it was maddening. You were used to wearing gloves even in the warmest weather.

But at that moment, you wished to touch his skin. You wished he wasn’t wearing black leather gloves as well. Maybe… maybe like that, you’d understand him a bit better.

He guided you to the center of the hall smoothly – and once more, you remembered that you were the center of attention. They are all shocked somehow. Is it because they knew Zardini was going to court you? Yes, it was that, but there was another reason. Their thoughts and intentions were like a flock of parrots hooting around you all at the same time.

Miss Salles Miss Salles Mr. Zardini so disrespectful what is happening what what what does he want with her the Duke Mr. Tepes the Duke of Wallachia–

Sudden cold ran down your spine.

A Duke?

He was a Duke?!

Finally, you faced him again. The stranger – a Duke! – bowed elegantly once more; you immediately bobbed another curtsy before taking his left hand. His right hand came to rest on your waist, which immediately made more shivers run down your spine. His hand was big like… like the rest of him. His grip was firm but gentle. The serenity in his eyes remained. God – it was hard to keep eye contact with him.

The Duke began to guide you in the dance.

For a moment, you had something else to focus on: dancing. You had trained with Clara at least two days prior… you weren’t a socialite like her. You hadn’t attended many balls in your life, as your parents were way too embarrassed of you to allow your participation. So, she had to step in and teach you over and over again. It didn’t feel that hard when you were dancing with her – but right now? With him?

You focused all of your might into not stepping on his foot or tripping over your own dress. You knew you probably looked stiff and funny to everyone else… as if you needed another reason to be laughed at.

Before, you wanted to run away because of the sense of danger; now, you wanted to run away due to the sheer awkwardness of it all…

Until he decided to speak for the first time.

“These people don’t have anything better to do, aye?”

It caught you off guard.

That deep voice that sounded so oddly familiar. He was surprisingly soft spoken… but what surprised you even more was his somewhat good humored tone. Slightly annoyed, even – but not at you.

Apparently, he didn’t like all that attention as well.

“Oh, I believe they don’t.” Your voice was as quiet as his to not let the couples around you eavesdrop. “If they did, they wouldn’t waste their precious time coming here.” You almost choked on your own words. That was inappropriate. He is here after all. What way to talk to someone you don’t even know! You cleared your throat and avoided his gaze for a second. “My apologies, Your Grace.”

He chuckled.

It caught you off guard again.

“No need for apologies. No need for your grace, either.” He frowned slightly. “Though… I don’t remember presenting myself.”

Oh.

He actually didn’t. No one did, at least with spoken words.

You tilted your head awkwardly. “Well. I heard. They’re loud and irritating. Like a flock of parrots.” That was also inappropriate. You weren’t that used to social interactions overall, and the sheer nervousness of it all made you speak before thinking.

He chuckled again.

“A flock of parrots sounds like an accurate description.”

The music elevated for a moment. He made you twirl around; your gown fluttered around your body like a whirlpool of emeralds before his hand was on your waist once again.

“But you haven’t presented yourself either, and I already knew your name… so we’re even.”

It was your turn to chuckle dryly. “It’d be a miracle if you hadn’t heard about me at this point, sir… as I am this circus’ main attraction.” You didn’t intend to sound so bitter, but it was quite impossible to hide it.

He narrowed his eyes. “I certainly see why you’re the main attraction. It has nothing to do with any circus, however.”

It caught you off guard again.

Harder this time.

You almost gasped.

A quiet giggle followed.

“You flatter me, sir.” He did actually flatter you a lot, but perhaps the nervousness stunted your nerves, preventing you from embarrassing yourself even further. “But there’s no need to pretend you didn’t hear what you heard. My reputation precedes me. I am used to it.”

He quirked his eyebrow slightly. “Is it true?”

His tone was still lighthearted. Not a drop of judgment, hesitation or awkwardness… and it made you feel less and less nervous. Made the annoying parrot voices quiet down. Suddenly, you caught yourself not caring about the black mud anymore. Or about the crowd of spectators… or even if what you said was appropriate or not.

You shrugged. “It depends. Would that make you afraid of me like everyone else?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is true. I am in fact insane.”

He chuckled again, closing his eyes for a moment. “What have you heard about me?”

“I heard you came all the way from Wallachia… to stand in my brother-in-law’s ceremony hall. Which makes me wonder if you are a bit insane as well.”

“I certainly was going insane some minutes ago.” He nodded. “You are right. They are loud and irritating. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for business…” His gaze became a bit more intense. “...but my evening became very interesting all of sudden.”

You smiled.

The first genuine, unapologetic smile you opened from the moment you got out of bed.

And he smiled back. A smaller smile… but genuine nevertheless. A smile that reached his beautiful golden eyes.

He twirled you around once more. You couldn’t hear or feel anyone else anymore… anyone but him.

The song ended. The couples stopped dancing, the crowd applauded. You faced each other at some steps distance.

“But let me do things the proper way. It’d be rude of me not to.” He, once more, bowed politely with his right hand over his chest and his left arm behind his back, a lighthearted smile never leaving his lips. “I am Adrian Tepes, the insane hermit of Wallachia… at your service.”

A quiet but unavoidable giggle erupted from your chest. Once more, you bobbed an elegant curtsy – a much less stiff one now that you felt more comfortable in your own skin.

“I am Miss Salles. The court jester… at your service.”

And it was strange, that small moment you shared. How comfortable and at ease you felt with this man you knew nothing about. How he made you forget about everything that plagued you, even if for just a few minutes.

Until that happened.

The black mud. In one second, it was still there.

The next second – it wasn’t.

It was so abrupt that your smile immediately vanished; your stomach dropped. All of that sticky, disgusting black liquid disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. For the first time, you saw clearly what color the attendees’ gowns were, the impeccably clean marble floor, the shiny crystal chandelier…

All gone.

Maybe you should’ve felt relief, for the sense of danger vanished as well. But… there was something so eerie about it that you couldn’t help but feel even more apprehensive. What was that thing? Why did it disappear?

When you looked at Mr. Tepes again… he wasn’t smiling anymore. He had a frown over his features, his eyes hardened. He looked around to the oblivious crowd as if searching for someone specific.

His gaze dropped to you again.

And for a second, he seemed to hesitate. Just for a second.

“My apologies, Ms. Salles. I must make myself absent.” He bowed his head respectfully. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Truly.”

You gulped and bowed your head too. “O-Of course. It was a pleasure meeting you as well.”

Mr. Tepes walked away.

You weren’t brave enough to follow him with your eyes.

You stood there for some moments, feeling the awkwardness creep all over again. You were alone once more. The attention never left you. The parrot whispers were coming back… the perception of what happened was coming, too. Everyone expected you to dance with Mr. Zardini. But you danced with another man instead…

You didn’t want to face him. You didn’t want to face anyone.

Quietly, you walked to the back of the hall.

No one tried to approach you. You already knew they wouldn’t. At that point, you didn’t care if it’d be rude to simply vanish five minutes after arriving; they already had enough material to make up rumors for months. So, rapidly, you walked towards the back doors that led to a corridor connecting the hall to the manor.

You unceremoniously ran as soon as the doors closed, almost tripping on the hem of the dress – and just stopped running when you reached an office on the first floor.

No more inconvenient voices or looks – but that didn’t ease your raging heart and mind, not anymore.

It took Clara three minutes to find you.

She closed the doors and looked at you with widened eyes.

“What just happened back there?”

You shrugged helplessly.

“A dance?”

Clara walked from side to side, holding her own head. She looked absolutely distressed.

“Oh, God. They’re all talking. This is not how things were supposed to go. And- And Mr. Zardini, he looked so displeased–“

“Well, what was I supposed to do? Say no to a Duke?!”

She nodded. “Yes, yes, I know – you had no way out of that situation. It’s not your fault. It’s his fault.” Clara stopped and put both hands on each side of her waist. “Respectfully, is he not aware of good manners and etiquette?”

“He wasn’t disrespectful.”

You avoided her gaze.

And that was enough for Clara to understand.

God, how you hated the fact that you could feel her feelings slowly fill the room like smoke. Of course, she was a woman as well; she saw the stark difference between Mr. Tepes and Mr. Zardini. Who wouldn’t be flattered? And she felt bad for you, because that dance gave you a little bit of hope that maybe, maybe you wouldn’t have to be tied to that much older man…

Clara sat on the couch in front of you and looked down at her skirt.

“I didn’t know him before.” Her voice was quiet. “Julien had mentioned that he met a duke a few years ago… but I didn’t know he would attend. He appeared last minute.”

Slowly, you sat down by her side.

Silence.

Silence.

She looked over the sofa to check if someone was coming through the door before turning to you.

“...He’s Adonis incarnate, isn’t he?!”

Both of you started giggling like two little girls.

You covered your mouth, feeling your entire face and neck get hot. Clara looked at the door again before continuing in an excited half whisper.

“God, I got so shocked when he approached you!”

“I got shocked, too! I almost didn’t know what to do.”

She tightened her hands in fists and let a very unlady-like groan escape. “It was so satisfying to see their faces, sister! All of these vultures shocked that he chose you for a dance.”

“Why me, however? I don’t understand.”

“Oh, please.” She pushed your shoulder jokingly. “If he’s Adonis, then you are Helen of Troy. Why would any gentleman not want to pick you for a dance?”

“Stop.” You pushed her shoulder back. You knew Clara was just trying to lift your spirits… no man aware of your history would want to be seen with you, no matter how embellished you looked. There were some seconds of silence again. “Why do you think his hair is white like that?”

“Oh, I’ve seen someone like that before… Anne’s child. Her babe was born pale like that. Not a bit of color in him. Poor thing couldn’t even be out in the sun for too long without getting burned.”

You avoided her gaze again… for a different reason this time.

If you told her that you thought he looked like a vampire, she’d say you were hallucinating again.

Clara never seemed to notice the differences in people. Nor your parents… and most people around you. But you knew it. They looked like human beings, talked and moved like human beings… but the scent of blood that followed them made them stand out. The red aura that revolved them.

You hadn’t seen many in your life – at least, not many while awake; your dreams constantly involved these creatures. Maybe two or three, all aristocrats, always from a distance. But you never forgot them. The sheer sense of danger they exhaled. The fact that predators like them could blend in a crowd and no one would bat an eye at them.

Mr. Tepes looked like one. But he lacked the crimson aura and the smell of blood… which made you wonder if Clara was right this time.

But so many strange things happened in the span of ten minutes that his unusual hair color was the least of it. That black mud that covered everything and vanished in a second… the absolute sense of danger… what caused it? Was it even something relevant, or was it just your heightened anxiety making you see things?

Him…

His oddly familiar voice…

The sense of comfort you shared in that short dance.

Almost as if...

Another shiver ran down your spine.

Almost as if you already knew him.

One week later, you were set to meet your future husband… again.

And it was awful how everyone already treated him as your fiance, even though he hadn’t properly asked your hand in marriage… because they knew no other man would be brave enough to even begin any sort of courtship. That’d be the best and only chance you’d ever have at marriage.

No one ever asked your opinion on this, obviously. You were invalid. Incapable of making choices of your own.

Truth be told… after what happened at the ball, Clara even tried to slow down the process. Of course, a simple dance wasn’t the same as courtship; a few minutes of conversation didn’t mean the Duke was interested in you. But, well… Clara had some hope. Who wouldn’t?

But Mr. Tepes had vanished.

Julien didn’t know where he was hosted. According to his words, the Duke was a very private man. He didn’t care for lavish stays or grand introductions despite his position, preferring discretion and isolation instead. And… well, if he was interested, he would’ve already made some sort of move.

He didn’t have to.

He definitely wasn’t the prince on a white horse you had fantasized about when you were a kid. You had been through enough to understand that this sort of thing didn’t exist.

Mr. Zardini, on the other hand, was adamant in meeting you.

Again, according to Julien… he was able to “explain” the Duke’s behavior as, “the people of Wallachia have different manners. Don’t see it as an insult.” And surprisingly, Zardini believed it. More than that – it seems he didn’t even mind it at all. He really wanted to meet you officially.

Julien hopped around in happiness that the accord wasn’t broken – because yes, to him, this was nothing but a business accord. Zardini was the owner of a great shipping company, after all, and Julien wanted to link with powerful families to strengthen his own influence.

Clara just felt sorry.

Feeling sorry doesn’t change anything, unfortunately.

She stood behind you as you faced the mirror.

“You look like a spring flower, sister.”

A light gown for the warm weather, the color of cherry blossoms. Simpler jewelry. Delicate gloves, as usual.

You did look beautiful.

But the lack of a smile on your face ruined everything. There wasn’t any reason to be happy at all. And Clara knew it. You saw her struggling to find the right words. She didn’t want to encourage you to “behave” or indulge Zardini… but she knew you had no way out of this either.

Her hand touched your shoulder softly.

“I am sorry, sis–“

“Please, don’t.” You took her hand off your shoulder delicately, deciding to look anywhere else but her reflection in the mirror. “Let’s… let’s just get this over with.”

Clara looked down and nodded as if words got stuck in her throat. She turned around and left.

It’d be a long afternoon.

Turns out Mr. Zardini paid little to no attention to you during lunch – and you couldn’t be more thankful.

Him, Julien and a cousin of his that came along, Mr. Ricci, were too absorbed in keeping their conversation between each other. Clara barged in with clever commentary as usual. You stayed shut, focusing in trying not to vomit instead.

They already knew you were crazy, right? You wouldn’t try to act like you weren’t.

You couldn’t even look at him, in fact.

Zardini.

He was impeccably well dressed. His outfit, manners and ways of speech made it clear that this was a man of power, born and grown in wealth. Very intelligent. His gray beard was perfectly trimmed, hair perfectly styled. Everything about him was perfectly done.

That wasn’t a compliment.

In the moments you had the courage to lift your gaze to him, you could see that he… he wasn’t exactly ugly. Maybe you’d have found him very attractive twenty years ago. Zardini clearly took care of his appearance, more than most man would.

But that didn’t change the fact that he could very well be your father.

That didn’t change the fact that you were at his mercy with no visible way out.

That didn’t change the fact that you’d have to perform the duties of a wife with him.

You’d have to let him kiss you. You’d have to lay in bed and let him stick his flaccid penis inside of you. You’d have to let him do it for five minutes (which is what he probably could take) every night until he finally managed to make you pregnant. And then you’d have to give birth and raise his child.

And everyone expected you to be grateful for it.

You wanted to die.

You thought of throwing a tantrum. It’s what everyone in this table expected of you, isn’t it? You were great at those. Sometimes your fits were real. But you learned to fake them over the years, just to annoy the nuns and set havoc in the convent. Pushing the table towel, hollering like an animal, kicking the air, drooling… you seriously considered doing it.

But Clara was there.

And your nephews somewhere in the house.

You had a few night terrors ever since coming to live with them. They hadn’t witnessed any of them… but you didn’t want them to see what actually happened to you when you had one of these fits. These boys were the only people on Earth who didn’t see you as a dangerous creature. You didn’t want to change their perception.

So you behaved.

No smiles. Not participating in any conversation. Not acting as if you liked anything that was going on. And that’s the best they would get.

After lunch and tea were over, Zardini asked to have a private walk in the gardens with you.

You’d rather die. But there was no way out of there, was it?

The afternoon was awfully beautiful. A refreshing breeze, blue skies, the flowers were blooming. You walked slowly on a stone trail by the lake. You held a parasol the same color of your dress; it had no intention to protect you from the sun, however, but protect you from him, as if to create a visible barrier between you two.

Zardini was tall. He smelled of tobacco and a strong male cologne that made you even more nauseous. His voice was grave and quite authoritarian.

Worst of it all – he didn’t seem bothered by your apathy. Not at all.

“Beautiful property, this one. I heard your sister helped with most of the renovations and the new garden. Talented woman.”

“She is.” You nodded without bothering to look at him.

“A good mother. A well loved woman by high society. A diligent wife. You sister is perfect in every sense.”

You frowned slightly. Why exactly was he complimenting Clara that much all of sudden? Was it to make you feel bad? Was it because he secretly liked her but chose you instead since she was already taken?

Zardini stopped walking, which made you stop as well. You realized he did it now that you were at a considerable – but still safe and respectful – distance from the gazebo where you had lunch.

He fiddled with a golden pocket watch absently, eyes glued to it.

“We’re both grown adults. I believe we can speak clearly without the formalities required by societal norms.” For the first time, you were fully paying attention to what he had to say. “I figure you already understand what my interests are with you.”

You were taken aback.

This is usually not how things went. Not so straightforward.

You nodded.

“I also would like you to understand that I do not require perfection from you. I do not expect or hope for love either; respect and loyalty are more than enough.”

“And what should I expect from you with this marriage, sir?” The first time you actually spoke out loud that afternoon, matching his stone cold tone. “You’ll already get a good business partnership with the Saint-Clairs. Already very beneficial without my respect and loyalty.”

If he wants to be direct, then let’s be direct.

Zardini quirked one eyebrow. He didn’t seem upset by your harsh retort.

“Protection. And I know what you might think. You’re a woman of high status, what else could I provide that you already do not own? But unfortunately, the Salles estate is in possession of your brother-in-law, and he does not plan on taking care of you forever, no matter how hard your dear sister might insist. I believe there aren’t many more gentlemen willing to do so, either.”

That was like a punch in the gut.

You knew he was right, but you didn’t expect him to know all this. Perhaps it was obvious to everyone else… yet, the way he shoved it in your face made you deeply upset.

Made you despise him.

“You will have my properties. The comfort. The peace you need. I’ll just ask you one thing, other than giving me an heir.” He stepped closer. Dropped his voice.

There was something eerie in his green eyes.

“The use of your abilities.”

Soft wind made the grass rattle, the trees shuffle. A note of silence extended between you two.

You had a notion of what he meant. But you didn’t want to believe it.

“I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”

“You do.” Zardini chuckled dryly. “As I already said… we can speak freely without any formalities. People say… absurdities about you. But from the moment I first heard the rumors, I knew the truth.”

Your jaw dropped.

He… he couldn’t be talking about this, could he?

You gripped the stick of the parasol tighter, getting increasingly more uncomfortable. “I still don’t understand what you mean.”

Zardini looked down at you with a strange smirk.

“What was my mother’s name?”

You were, once again, taken aback.

“How would I know your mother’s name? You haven’t told me.”

He waited in silence.

The wind made noise again, played with your dress. Your discomfort grew more and more. Was this man in his right mind?

But you heard it.

With your mind. Not with your ears.

You heard the name.

You didn’t even need to concentrate to hear it; it slipped into your head with ease.

“...Victoria.”

Your voice was quiet. Hesitant.

Zardini’s green eyes gleamed.

“Extraordinary.” He said under his breath. “Truly extraordinary. I have never met a psychic with such raw talent.”

“A what?”

“A psychic. Someone who bears the power of feeling and seeing beyond the common human senses. Someone who can even predict the future with ease.” His gaze over you had a new type of interest; he analyzed your features as if you were an expensive Chinese vase. “...And to think your parents hid you for so long. Heavens, they had no idea.”

You watched him in shocked silence.

This old man… who you already despised. But, at that moment, you let that aside. Maybe because shock stunted your other emotions.

Your voice came as a fragile whisper.

“Do you… do you believe in me?”

No one ever did before. Ever.

No matter how much proof you had. No matter how hard you screamed. No one ever believed you. No one ever gave you the benefit of the doubt. Not even your beloved sister.

At that moment, Zardini did.

His eyes softened; so did his smirk.

“I’ll give you the most quiet, comfortable life… so you can flourish your abilities to its highest capacity. No more judgment. No more questions. All you have to do… is see the future for me in return.”

You didn’t know what to say.

Maybe you should’ve been happy at the fact that someone believed you for the first time. But that was still an inescapable situation; he was not asking for your collaboration. Neither was he asking your hand in marriage.

He was demanding it.

And he had the power to do so.

That same evening, you got engaged.

He knew she was coming.

It was impossible not to hear her quiet steps approaching the library. Inside the colossal empty castle, any small noise became a thunder in his ears, as if living in the pipes of an organ. He could hear the freezing winter wind out there, softly touching the windows. Tiny rodents hiding from the snow. The flame of the candlestick beside him crackling quietly.

When he lifted his gaze and saw her entering the library, he was not surprised.

She had a blanket wrapped around her figure. Her hair was loose, a gracious mess falling over her shoulders. Her face was slightly swollen. Barefoot.

She approached him in silence.

The castle had many libraries spread around its sections. Each library stored specific genres of books. The astronomy tower… the philosophy library… his mother’s study, where he didn’t have the courage to enter anymore. Some sections of the palace were… silently forbidden. He didn’t get near these places. She didn’t, either.

This library was one of these places.

His late father had a library of its own right in his chambers. But this one… the circular library equivalent to three floors of books with a glass skylight on the roof, was where he kept some of his most precious discoveries. There were probably over sixty thousand books inside that library alone. All written by the man himself.

He didn’t get there. Not even to clean it. After months, a thin layer of dust covered the entire place.

There was a reason for him to be there that night, however. Multiple books were scattered on the floor around him. He sat on a blanket and some cushions to protect himself from the cool marble floor, but didn’t bother to light up the fireplace.

And he didn’t mind her presence there.

Months ago, when she arrived, this would be unthinkable. He didn’t trust her enough to be near his father’s ancient knowledge.

Things were different now.

Quietly, she sat in front of him.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice was almost as silent as the single candle cackling beside him.

She shook her head. “It’s too cold.”

He dropped his eyes back to the small book at hand. “You could light up the fireplace.”

“You should light up this fireplace.” She caressed her arms under the blanket to ward off the cold. “It’s freezing here.”

“I don’t mind cold.” He flipped a page. “I’m more worried about you walking around barefoot at night during winter.”

She sighed and eyed the books around. “…Did you find a solution?”

“Not yet.”

The heating system was not working in some sections of the castle. The pipes were probably damaged during the battle months ago… and he was trying to find a solution in his father’s engineering books.

That was a great excuse.

There weren’t just engineering books around him. There were… other things, too. Random annotations. Even poetry. It could be unthinkable to anybody that the late king of the vampires would write anything of the sort.

Hesitantly, she reached for a thin book next to her, as if waiting to see if he would prevent her… but he didn’t. She opened the first page and read quietly.

A small smile adorned her features.

“He had a beautiful way with words.”

He nodded softly. “When he wanted.”

She looked down at the pages again. “He… truly loved her. Didn’t he?”

He didn’t answer.

Silence lingered between them. But… it wasn’t uncomfortable like it was in the beginning. When they still had their walls up. When most days were reigned by awkwardness and aggressiveness. When they were wary of each other, as if expecting to wake up in the middle of the night with a knife in their throats.

It had been months ever since she decided to say. He didn’t invite her; she just… stayed. And albeit he wasn’t fond of her in the beginning, it was still better than being alone. Anything was better than sitting alone in this cold, soulless castle.

At first, he tolerated her.

Then, he… got used to her presence.

She could be funny when she wanted to. No… she was funny. He realized that after she started to tolerate him. An acid sense of humor he could relate to. He caught himself giggling at her self deprecating jokes and even at the way she joked about him.

She was smart. Not an academic type of intelligence, but a type one can only learn through life. He could see that life was not easy on her – and it made him more and more curious to know about her past, even though she scarcely touched the subject. She was his opposite in this sense. He… had been trying to move on. But many times, he caught himself stuck in the same place, in the same feelings. Meanwhile, she was like an unstoppable avalanche; always facing forward. Never looking back.

It was thanks to her that they had been busying themselves with renovating the castle. It’d take years for two people alone to fix all the damage in a structure so big, but they had been doing a great job until that point.

It felt that they were silently healing each other in the process. Day after day. Meal after meal. Argument after argument. Laughter after laughter. They tolerated each other. Then, they got used to each other… and now, they appreciated each other.

This appreciation was growing into something… deeper. Unspoken. But it was there – and none of them were oblivious to it. The brief touches. The quick glances. The racing hearts.

It was escalating. The two knew it.

None of them planned on fighting it back.

Her eyes were still down when she spoke again.

“...I’m a bit thankful to him, in a grotesque way.”

It made him immediately look at her and forget about the book in his hand.

The quiet fragility of her voice. She… had never showed fragility in front of him.

He immediately understood this was important.

“How so?” His voice was as quiet; peaceful, welcoming, to encourage her to speak.

She hesitated before starting.

“...I’m from Targoviste.” His eyes widened slightly at her sudden confession. “Our house was a bit far from the city… into the woods. I was the only girl in the family. Only had brothers.”

She hesitated again. He did not rush her.

“One night, a man knocked on our door. A vampire.” Her grip on the thin book tightened as she spoke. “He was drunk. I didn’t even know vampires could get drunk. But that one… he could barely stand on his feet. He was still strong enough to destroy half of the house and injure two of my brothers. He threatened to kill all of us. Laughing. And then...” Another extended pause. Her throat audibly tightened more and more. So did his heart. “My father fell on his knees and begged him to leave his sons alone… in exchange of his daughter.”

He felt a cold hand grip around his heart.

“Young and pretty, he said. Will serve you well.” She chuckled dryly. “The drunk vampire accepted the deal. So merciful.”

He didn’t know what to say for long, agonizing moments.

“Did he not… feed off you?”

“He had other interests.” His stomach dropped. “But do not worry. I spent barely a day in his lair. As I said, he was a drunk… while he slept, I put a stake through his heart.” Another chuckle. She scratched her nose with the back of her hand. He saw the subtle gloss in her eyes, the way she blinked rapidly… “Took me five days of wandering in the woods to find our home. But when I got there…” She shrugged. “Targoviste was already destroyed. A sea of blood. Corpses out in the open. Few survivors. A horrible sight.” Another pause. “The night creatures wandered into the woods, too.”

She took a shaky deep breath.

For the first time, she lifted her gaze to him. A painful tightened smile crept up her lips.

“And I was glad when I found my old house and saw my father with his guts ripped off. Because I spent five days planning on how to kill him.” She covered her mouth for a moment, eyes wandering elsewhere… almost lost. “The night creatures took care of it for me. Lifted a burden from my shoulders.” She gulped and blinked rapidly again. “How cruel of me, aye?”

It was automatic. Even instinctive. Before realizing, his hand softly cupped her cheek – softly, softly; almost hesitant. His hand was freezing cold, but she didn’t flinch away. Their eyes met once again.

“You’re not.” His voice was but a whisper.

At that moment, it was as if none of them dared to breathe.

This… feeling surrounding them. Quiet. Fragile. Intimate in a way they had never been before. It was as if they were scared to move or speak and make it go away.

But she was implacable like an avalanche. She always moved first.

Her eyes dropped to his chest. Slowly, her fingers touched the neckline of his white blouse. She pushed it with her fingertips.

“...Does it still hurt?” Her voice, like his, was but a whisper.

The big scar crossed over his chest. Inflicted by his own father. The wound that almost killed him, took a year of hibernation to close again.

He unconsciously caressed it all the time, always with a slight frown over his features. She had noticed it.

“Sometimes,” he admitted quietly.

She locked eyes with him for a moment.

Then, carefully, she inched closer.

He watched, barely breathing, with his heart pounding in his chest, as she came closer and closer. She pushed the blouse to expose more of his chest. He watched, mesmerized and astonished and even a bit confused, when she pressed her soft lips over his scar.

The touch of her kiss was featherlight… chaste, in a way. But it immediately spread fire through his veins, pushed all the cold away. She pressed another kiss… and another, following the shape of the scar. And another. And one more.

Until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He captured her chin on his fingers and guided her lips towards his.

It was warm, too. It was easy. It was fulfilling.

A simple press of lips at first that extended for long seconds – and it was like the world stopped turning at that moment.

She leaned away. He looked down at her. She looked up at him.

And then, they were kissing again.

Their lips moved unhurriedly, matching a pace that set real fire in their hearts. The hand that once held her chin went to rest on the back of her neck; she, on the other hand, placed her hands on his broad shoulders. And it was slow, almost agonizingly so; it deepened and deepened and deepened, tongues meeting and entangling, until their breaths became faster and more difficult, until all the cold went away, until all they could hear were the wet noises their kisses produced, until she sat on his lap.

“Have you ever done it before?” She whispered, almost out of breath.

He shook his head. No, he hadn’t. But he wasn’t embarrassed of it, nor he put much thought into it.

She smiled – and that alone made his blood boil like lava. Her smile wasn’t mocking. It was… endeared, perhaps. Lustful.

The blanket she brought along was forgotten. She wore nothing but a long sleeved nightgown underneath.

She did not break eye contact while taking it off.

He stared, mesmerized, at her body; the way visible shivers ran over her skin due to the cold, her gloriously exposed chest, her hardened nipples. His large hands didn’t hesitate to touch her, bring her closer, caress her. His lips didn’t take too long to greet her – neck, shoulders, breasts… and when he heard her soft moan for the first time, he knew he would never get tired of it. Never.

She guided him. She showed him where to kiss, how to kiss. She was sweet. It was warm and sticky. He was, once again, mesmerized – how mesmerized! – at her reactions, her deep breaths and hisses and moans, the way she gripped his golden locks while he tasted her, ate her; he didn’t know pleasuring someone else would be so pleasurable. To know he was the cause of the sounds she made and the obscenities she whispered and the way she trembled and squirmed under his touch. The sweet power he had over her in these moments. It made his pants ache.

And finally, it was his turn to get undressed; she was also astonished – how astonished! – at his muscular physique, the way his body resembled the perfection of Greek statues. Her core ached for him the moment she heard his deep moan for the first time, how he closed his eyes and took a deep breath when she enveloped her hand around his member. He was large and heavy and pinkish, and his cheeks and neck and chest blushed, and he truly had the perfection not even an immortal could achieve.

And when he finally slipped into her – God! He claimed for God, even though he didn’t believe in one. He claimed for God, for she was so tight; no one told him it would be so tight and so incredibly hot, steaming hot. She was wet, wet, wet, and slippery, and for a moment he got scared to hurt her. But she knew what to do. She told him to move slowly at first. He waited until she got used to his size.

She couldn’t tell what was better: the feeling of his member deep inside of her, or the glorious sight of his pleasured expression when he first slipped in. How he tightened his eyes, mouth slightly open, the increasing blush, the thin layer of sweat, his golden locks cascading around her face. He had the beauty of a God, even though she didn’t believe in one.

He picked up a pace. The library, previously silent and cold, was now filled with obscenities – skin hitting skin, moans and grunts and hisses, panting, the wet sounds. The shivering winter replaced by trembling sweat. He filled her once, but realized she hadn’t reached her high with him, and he wasn’t satisfied. He could do better. So they did it again. With her on top this time. And on her back. And over the desk. Repeatedly, continuously, until she couldn’t take it anymore, until she was trembling and weak and out of her mind, until the blankets were drenched in sweat and juices, until the sun peeked in the horizon once more, until he was finally satisfied.

Only then, finally, they fell asleep on the floor of the library, over blankets and cushions. The fair skin of his neck and chest where peppered with hickeys, his back softly scratched. They should probably get up to bathe, but none of them minded. Not at that moment, when she fell asleep over his chest. He didn’t want to break that moment of intimacy by moving.

Before falling asleep, he noticed how it was all so… natural. It didn’t feel awkward or embarrassing. It was just a progression of what had been happening since they met. It was comfortable, and warm, and easy.

It was friendship. It was companionship.

It was love.

The same way she filled this empty cold castle with her presence, she filled his empty broken heart with love.

He could only hope that he, too, had filled her aching heart with love. For he would not be able to let her go after that night.

He would never be able to let her go.

You didn’t want an engagement dinner, but what you wanted didn’t matter.

Zardini paid for all the expenses. The food, the musicians, the servants, the decorations, your gown and your jewelry. The gown was ivory white with matching elbow length gloves, small pearls decorated your figure. The chastity of a bride, as if you had never been kissed or touched before. The manor was decorated in white, too: white roses, ribbons, the servant’s outfits… everything in white. Zardini’s family, friends and associates were present. Most of the town was there, too.

More than ever, you wanted to die.

A circus, that was. Zardini showed off his wealth. His friends patted him in the back, for he had achieved a beautiful bride (even though she was not right in the head) and had landed a new business accord. The townspeople, like before, came to inspect the freak. You were forced to stand there, greet his family – soon to be your family – barely three days after he proposed.

Why was he doing everything so quickly? Was he scared of you trying to run away? Well, maybe you should. Disappear, change your name, live without a penny – anything would be better than this.

It didn’t matter that Alfred Zardini believed in your abilities; that didn’t make you relieved. He wanted to use you with this thing you couldn’t control. He wanted to cage you the same way your parents did. The only difference is that now, it’d be in a manor by the sea, not an asylum.

Maybe you should be grateful. How many girls and women you met didn’t have half this luck? Completely forgotten by their families, locked forever in convents; their parents claimed that their girls had offered their lives to God, but in reality they were too embarrassed of them. Girls that were ostracized for melancholy, for “insanity fits”, because they got pregnant before marriage or because they were dishonored. Treated like criminals, worse than animals, doomed to live their lives in imprisonment and shame.

How many of these women would happily marry Zardini in your place?

It only made you feel more miserable.

You didn’t want to eat. You didn’t want to dance. As usual, Zardini barely paid attention to you, and once again you were grateful. You were the bride, the literal main attraction, but you chose to sit in a corner and stay there in silence.

This isn’t what marriage was supposed to be. A forceful transaction with no feelings involved.

And you hated, hated, hated how your brain made you dream of him again past night; the library dream was a recurring one. The dream were you gave yourself for the faceless man for the first time, and he accepted it. A dream filled with raw love.

You’d never experience it with that old man. Never.

You knew what real love felt like – both in your dreams and in reality, even if it was brief and painful and you couldn’t think too much about it without feeling the urge to cry. But you also knew you were doomed to never having it again. Your parents doomed you at nine years old, when they judged you were an embarrassment and sent you to a hospital for the first time.

Uncomfortable. Uncomfortable. Uncomfortable. You could barely breathe.

That was when you saw it.

Creeping in the carpet. Slowly filling the room.

The black mud.

Your heart raced. Your eyes widened. No no no no not this again.

Why was that happening in a social gathering again? Could this be a sign that it really was just your nervous mind playing tricks?

Instinctively, you covered your mouth and nose. The stench – awful. It smelled of decaying flesh, completely overwhelming the sweet scent of roses that filled the room previously. That thing was slowly drenching the carpet, making its way inside the hall and dripping from the ceiling and walls and–

I can’t take it this time.

You got up and walked out.

While you still could control yourself, you made your best to not run and draw unwanted attention. They were all too focused on Zardini anyway, and they didn’t know the labyrinth that house was. You walked out of the room, crossing corridors and doors until you were outside to breathe some fresh air, still walking at a fast pace.

Once you were outside, you ran. Unceremoniously.

You crossed the property. Past the gazebo and the lake into the gardens. The full moon high in the clear sky illuminated the way in silver hues – which was of great help, since your vision was blurry and you wouldn’t be able to run in the dark. Finally, you reached the orchard where the greenhouse stood.

You stormed in and finally, finally, finally cried.

It was the type of cry that hurts the chest, that tightens the throat, that doesn’t let you breathe. You crouched down, not caring if it’d dirty the hem of the dress, and held your head while crying. I can’t breathe, you thought, trying to make your lungs work the way they should, but they wouldn’t obey. You sobbed, almost choked, and simply cried.

How glad you were that you had time to run away from the manor before this started. This type of weeping… the ones that came when you were truly, inexplicably desperate, were involuntary. You couldn’t control them. Sometimes, they came without much of a reason. You could be having a perfectly normal day and had one of these “fits”.

You had a reason to that night.

Not only just because of the incomprehensible black mud or stench, but all of it. You were miserable.

So you just stayed there, letting it all out, not caring if the makeup was ruined by the end of it… until your breathing went back to normal and your heart calmed down.

After long minutes – you were sure Clara must’ve been looking for you at that point – you got up.

The circular greenhouse was packed with flowers. Clara really liked gardening, and you liked to be there because it was very distant from the manor. It was peaceful and beautiful, the perfect place to paint. Your easel was still there in the corner with unfinished charcoal sketches. You leaned the small of your back on the central table where dozens of pots with the most different flowers were and stared into nothing.

God. You probably looked like a mess.

The previously ivory gloves came out dirty when you wiped your cheeks… which made you look at the engagement ring. A single huge diamond around your finger.

That could very well be a shackle.

You thought of the many women you met in asylums and hospitals. Their hopelessness. The suicides. You thought of Lucy, even though you usually avoided to.

Maybe you really were being ungrateful.

You took a deep breath… it was time to face reality.

You were about to leave when a deep voice saying excuse me made you jump and yelp.

Someone had entered the greenhouse through the back door.

And you couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Mr. Tepes,” you gagged, one hand over your chest, feeling your heart race violently.

The man looked terribly sorry.

Moonlight touching him through the glass roof and walls made him look even more ethereal, if that was even possible; his long hair shone like silver threads. He, once more, wore all black, but in a less formal attire, with gray buttons and details. A black cloak fell over his shoulders. He had a brown leather belt around his waist and black gloves.

His hand was lifted in an appeasing gesture.

“My apologies, Miss Salles. I did not mean to startle you. I saw some movement in the greenhouse and thought someone might be needing help.”

You straightened your back and instinctively ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look a little more presentable. God, I must really be looking like a mess, by the expression he’s making…

“Mr. Tepes.” You repeated in a more controlled tone. “I… I didn’t know you would come.”

You didn’t bother checking the guest list. Of course Julien would find a way to add one of his prestigious associates in the list, even if the dinner wasn’t his.

The Duke approached slowly and hesitantly. There was a slight knot of worry between his eyebrows. “...Are you feeling unwell?”

Hell. I never thought I’d ever see him again, but now that he’s standing in front of me, I look like an absolute mess.

You sniffed and nodded, trying to open a smile.

“N-No. Thank you.”

He stood in place for some moments, still at a considerable distance. That was the most obvious, idiotic lie in the world, but he decided not to question it.

“Do you want to be left alone?”

“No!” And oh God, how embarrassing it was that you said that so quickly, how weirdly high pitched your voice went. But no, you didn’t want him to go away, even though you felt horrible; you didn’t know when and if you’d ever seen him again – and you didn’t care if it’d be inappropriate for a bride to be alone with another man. You cleared your throat and once again, tried to smile. “No, you may stay. T-The greenhouse is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

He wasn’t looking at the flowers.

Mr. Tepes approached slowly.

He barely made any sound as he walked… that’s why you didn’t notice him entering the greenhouse. He still seemed hesitant. Each step he took seemed to send waves directly to your heart.

At last, he settled by your side, leaning on the table as well.

Some seconds of silence lingered in the air.

“Congratulations on your engagement.” He bowed his head respectfully. Don’t congratulate me for this, you wanted to say, but just bowed your head back. “...Things evolved rather quickly, if you allow me to say. It hadn’t been two weeks since the ball.”

You chuckled dryly. “Mr. Zardini is in a hurry for reasons unknown.”

It seemed he wanted to say something more on the matter.

But refrained himself.

A few more seconds of silence.

“...Miss Salles.” He called quietly. His voice was so infuriatingly deep. It almost caused a physical reaction whenever he said your name. Mr. Tepes was, once again, hesitating. “I… would like to ask you something. But you can choose not to answer.”

For the first time, you looked at him.

His side profile was also infuriating. Mr. Tepes kept his eyes down in somewhat of a serious expression.

“Yes?”

It looked like he was choosing the right words.

“That night at the ball. Right before my departure. You seemed to… react to something no one else did.”

You frowned slowly.

Was he talking about the moment the black mud vanished?

It immediately made your stomach drop.

“What did you see?” He finally looked at you.

It was your turn to avoid his gaze.

Why was he talking about this of all the things you wished he’d say? Bring all the discomfort you left at the manor?

You shook your head softly.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.” You fiddled your fingers uncomfortably. “Crowds make me uncomfortable. Especially judging ones.”

“Miss Salles.” More goosebumps. His tone became gentler and welcoming. “I know it might sound abrupt, since we don’t know each other well… but you don’t need to lie to me.”

Your eyes met him again.

That’s precisely what made you more nervous and agitated.

It… it felt that you knew him already. More than just dancing a song and exchanging a few words. His presence was comfortable. Why on Earth would you want to be in a closed space with another man if it wasn’t? And perhaps it was embarrassing, for you had no idea if he felt this much as ease around you, but that’s how you felt.

Was it because his voice was strangely similar to the one you already knew so well? Was it because, through your short first meeting, he did not treat you like an aberration? Or was it simply due to the obvious and intense attraction you felt for him?

You had no idea.

A tired sigh escaped past your lips.

“...You’ll think I’m insane, sir.”

He smiled softly. “I already know you’re insane. You told me so.”

You giggled, looking down for a moment. He chuckled, too.

You turned your body in his direction slowly. Your right hand tapped on the wooden table nervously. He turned to face you too.

And waited.

And waited.

“I…” Why was it so hard to speak? You’d been through that before: explaining to “doctors” how this thing worked, until you finally realized no one believed you and you began to blatantly lie in the hopes they’d think you were normal. You were afraid that he’d laugh. But you continued speaking anyway. “I… feel the people around me. Their emotions. Sometimes, their thoughts. I also see things… things no one else sees. In my sleep. Sometimes awake.”

He nodded slowly.

“And you can’t control it. That’s why crowds make you uncomfortable.” Your eyes darted up at his face. He… didn’t question anything. Just went to the obvious conclusion instead without any judgment.

You nodded.

Mr. Tepes hummed and held his chin in a thoughtful expression.

It was the second time a man actually believed you in the span of a few days. What the hell was happening?!

“How exactly does it work?”

“I don’t know. Things just… come to my mind. Like whispers… but they’re not exactly words, though I can decipher them as words.” Your eyes narrowed slowly and you went silent.

“What?” He asked quietly.

“...I can’t really feel you. It’s like I’m alone. How strange.” You analyzed his beautiful features with confusion.

“Is it a bad thing?”

“No. It’s peaceful... But still strange.” You avoided his gaze again.

If you told her that you thought he looked like a vampire, she’d say you were hallucinating again.

You froze.

Mr. Tepes didn’t exhale aggressiveness or violence. He’d been anything but respectful. But what if… what if he was not? What if he was the cause of the strange black mud you saw?

What if he was dangerous?

A vampire?

He didn’t smell of blood. No crimson aura. But perhaps, as a vampire, he could seal himself from you.

And for the briefest second, you felt scared.

He wouldn’t tell you right away if he was one… would he?

So you looked down for a moment. To your hand resting over the table.

Physical touch was like putting your hand inside the furnace.

You gulped.

“I could… try. To prove it to you.” Hesitation. The mere idea of doing it made your heart race. “Usually I… I can also feel people by touching them.”

Mr. Tepes could’ve said you didn’t need to prove anything. He could’ve said he already believed you.

But he didn’t.

He just closed his eyes for a moment and nodded, as if saying go ahead.

You took the glove from your right hand off. Awkwardly, as if suddenly you forgot how to make such a simple movement; your entire right arm went cold.

Again, hesitation.

You looked up at his face.

He had been watching you the entire time. His expression was… a bit unreadable. Inside that poorly lit space, you were under the impression that his eyes glowed faintly.

There was something strange in the air. Charged. It had nothing to do with the idea that he was, perhaps, a supernatural creature.

No, it had nothing to do with that.

“Excuse me…” you said under your breath, so quiet that he perhaps didn’t hear it.

Slowly, hesitantly, you reached for his face. The only spot you could touch his skin.

When you were a mere second away from touching him, you stopped. A mere second of fear of discovering something you didn’t want to. If he was a vampire, he’d murder you right there – too far away from the manor, no one would hear your screams. What was the point of even doing it?

But deep down, you already knew there was no point.

You touched his cheek.

Tenderly. Your touch was barely even there; you were scared of burning, after all.

And yet, the moment your skin brushed his–

You gasped.

Your heart raced. Your eyes widened softly.

Mr. Tepes’ eyes on you never wavered.

Golden. You found yourself unable to break eye contact, as if he had put you in a trance.

This touch, so soft, could perhaps be seen as inappropriate – you were an engaged woman, cupping the face of another man… but still, it was but a simple touch. Why, however, did the air inside the greenhouse become so charged? So intense? It was as if you lost the ability to move, to do anything else but look back at him.

He was the one to break the silence.

“What do you feel?” His voice was but a whisper. Sent goosebumps through your body. This voice that sounded inexplicably so familiar.

“I-I…”

He stepped closer.

There was barely any space between your bodies.

The air became more charged, charged, charged, when his large gloved hand touched the right side of your waist.

A soft touch at first, that rapidly became more firm; and with that, it was as if your legs lost their strength. His other gloved hand traveled up slowly; your arm, your shoulder, the ghost of his touch making your core tremble and your lungs fail.

His other hand stopped on your neck.

“Tell me.” He was even quieter. Even deeper.

How could you answer, if you could barely breathe? If the world was but a blur except for him? If your heart felt about to explode?

“Mr. Tepes–“ You managed to stutter.

“Adrian.” His breathy correction sent another wave of goosebumps through your skin. “Tell me. I want to know.”

You did not have the ability to answer. Not with how strong the emotion flowing from him hit you. Not with how incredibly raw it was, how surprisingly so, despite the serene mask on his face at all times. Breathtakingly strong. Incomprehensibly strong.

Desire.

He kissed you.

You didn’t fight back. You didn’t try to push him away. His soft lips touched yours, and suddenly the rest of the world disappeared. Nothing mattered anymore. Perhaps nothing had ever mattered as much as in that moment.

He kissed you, and it wasn’t soft and tender like he had been acting before. It was intense, it was charged, it was explosive. Your lips seemed to melt into each others’, merge into a single thing. He tilted his head to the side, immediately deepening the kiss, as his hand held the nape of your neck. It was as if he didn’t have time to be slow at first, as if he was desperate, as if he was hungry.

That intensity was dizzying.

You didn’t mind it.

You cupped both sides of his face, reciprocating with that same intensity, feeling his long hair tickling your own face and shoulders. He was tall, so much so that as the kiss deepened, you bent back slightly; he kept your bodies glued with his firm grip on your waist. He was like a massive wall of heat and desire engulfing you, drowning you, taking your breath away. He spread fire through your veins, to every corner of your body.

Your left hand traveled to the nape of his neck, gripped the hair on his scalp – and he groaned into the kiss, sending vibrations through you, making your legs even weaker. It was hot and hot and hot and you wouldn’t be surprised if all the glass from the greenhouse steamed up with condensation.

For the briefest moment, you were aware of what adorned your ring finger: the shackle, the diamond engagement ring. Your soon to be husband was somewhere inside that manor, receiving pats on the back for the marriage, while you kissed another man in the dark.

You didn’t care.

You broke the kiss for the first time, trying to breathe for a second; he chased your lips again. And once more, as if he was unable to control himself.

“Adrian–“ you tried to call, but that seemed to cause the opposite reaction in him. He let another deep groan and suddenly you were being pushed against the table; he lifted you swiftly and made you sit over it, placing himself between your legs, kissing you incessantly, and you heard the noise of a ceramic vase falling and breaking somewhere beside you but you didn’t care.

You gripped his coat, pushed him closer, bit his plump lower lip defiantly. You did not mind when he pushed your skirt up, felt shivers and more shivers as his gloved hand caressed your thigh. Both of you were panting. Both of you thought there was too much clothing between your bodies. Both of you thought that was not enough.

Until you heard Clara out there.

That was the only thing that made you stop.

You gasped, froze in place, looked behind his shoulder. Mr. Tepes looked back as well.

“Sister, where are you?!” Her worried voice came from an approaching distance.

“Oh my God,” You gasped.

He put you on your feet again as easily as he put you on the table. He was panting, lips slightly swollen, the otherwise fair skin around it stained by your rouge.

You didn’t want him to go. It was the least thing you wanted.

But the blurred vision was disappearing. The heat. Reality came back into focus following the steps of your sister.

“W-We can’t be seen like this.” You whispered.

Adrian looked down at you.

His usual serenity was gone. He hesitated. He almost looked in pain.

But he nodded.

He took your right hand – the one without the glove – and left a tender, long kiss on your knuckles, as if to make sure you’d feel him again for one last time.

And, like that, he left through the back door.

You leaned on the table, shaking and panting for a completely different reason than from when you arrived. You stared into nothing, feeling your heart pound in your chest, hearing Clara get closer and closer.

You didn’t find out who or what exactly Mr. Tepes was. But that notion, the initial excuse you had to touch his skin, was forgotten.

Another realization filled your mind.

That kiss. His touch. His presence, his heat. It was explosive, dizzying, hot, maddening.

But it was not unfamiliar.

Almost as if a part of you was used to that. Used to his kisses the same way it was used to his voice.

The man that lived in your dreams.

You spent a lifetime foolishly waiting for that man to finally appear, even though the context of your dreams barely made sense with your current reality. But what if… what if these dreams weren’t premonitory?

What if you had already lived all of that in a distant past?

The next question you made yourself was almost as maddening as the kisses you had just shared.

What if…

What if he was that man?

[kimvvantae]

Aurora; 13

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 5k

A/N: GUESS WHO'S BACK??? omg y'all. i can't believe it's been over a month since the last update. i had to let this story cool down in my brain before picking it back up. also, just a lot of things happening at the same time in my life. thanks everyone for your patience! as usual, feedback is MUCH appreciated. enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

“Don’t scare me!”

??? looks at you with a pout and a deep frown. You roll your eyes and rest your hand on the side of your waist.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You made that noise to scare me!”

“If you keep complaining, I’ll leave you alone…”

“No!” Her scream echoes from her place at the stairs. “You know I’m scared of the dark!”

You take one more step down and groan in a very annoyed tone. “You could’ve just taken a torch from the patio if you weren’t so lazy.”

“What? You make these light balls all the time. Keep showing them off. What’s different now?”

“The difference, ???, is that your mother asked you to go down the cellar, not me. You dragged me here because you’re a lazy scaredy cat.” ??? takes one more step down. You follow her. “And it’s not a ‘light ball’, it’s a–“

“A sun sphere,” she makes a very whiny impersonation of your voice and shrugs. “Whatever.”

She’s being definitely way too annoying for someone needing help.

The sun sphere floats centimeters away from your palm. It’s not bigger than a pebble, but it’s enough to lighten the entire underground cellar. Eerie shadows are cast over the many barrels and jars that store mostly wine and ale. It always smells of wood, wet soil and grapes down here.

??? squeezes her eyes and walks deeper into the cellar. “Now, which one is it… ???, do you remember–?”

“The big one in the corner. Made of dark oak. Gods, you really know nothing.”

She turns to you with a deeper frown. “And you’re the most annoying person I know! You keep acting like that just because you can make your stupid balls of light or because you turned twelve first! No one besides you cares! Everyone says I’m cuter than you anyway!”

Your jaw drops. You tilt your head to the side. “Well, I think you care. At least I’m useful for something. All you do is braid your hair and destroy Aunt ???’s tapestries with your ugly paintings.”

??? gags; her face is now completely clouded with anger. She puts the ceramic jar she held previously on the floor and walks towards you at heavy steps, her hands tightened into fists.

“Take that back!”

Oh, that was such a grave mistake.

??? has time to see your face turn into a mischievous grin before she regrets what she was about to do.

“No–“

Too late.

You summon the sun sphere to your palm and close your hand.

The light extinguishes.

??? yells.

You run upstairs much faster than her – you were closer to the stairs since the beginning – with ??? following you shortly while screaming like a scared mouse. But you get to the top faster. You shut the door with a loud bang. You lock the heavy wooden door and lean your back on it.

You laugh while she bangs on the door, screaming and crying, until you spot Aunt ??? going down the patio to see what is happening.

You run away before she can scold you.

Juste and Alucard gathered in front of Ruby to analyze the speck of light she had just summoned.

The old Belmont hummed and held his chin, leaning down slightly to see it closer. The only way to describe what he was seeing was as a ball of light. It floated a few centimeters away from her palm obediently.

Juste stuck his finger into the ball and hummed again. It didn’t move away from his touch; his pointer finger went through it as if it weren’t even there.

“It’s not fire,” he observed with a thoughtful tone. “It even feels a little cold.”

Alucard watched him intently.

“Does it feel like Speaker magic?” the white-haired vampire asked.

“No, no. It definitely isn’t.” Juste straightened his back and rested a hand on the side of his waist. “Never seen a Speaker summon light like that.” His frown deepened. “Though it’s not really light. It’s sun, isn’t it?”

Ruby looked down at the light orb and pressed her lips.

“It’s called a sun sphere. I… think.” Her words were slow, hesitant.

“And how did you figure out you could make it?” Alucard asked.

Ruby gulped. She looked a little dazed… Juste figured she was the most shocked out of everyone at this new discovery. It was as if she didn’t even know what to do with herself.

“I had a dream. When I woke up, I just… could do it.”

“How are you summoning it?” It was Juste’s turn to ask.

“I don’t know. It’s second nature. It’s like… it’s like asking me how do I raise my arm or how do I see with my eyes.” Ruby moved her hand slightly; the sphere grew a bit larger, floating farther from her palm. “It feels as if there is a room in my mind I was not aware of. It was… locked. Hidden. Now, the door is opened and I can walk in. It was always there, I just didn’t see it.”

Juste sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

“...Yeah, I can relate to that.”

She summoned the sphere back into her palm; when she closed her hand, the sphere vanished.

Alucard crossed his arms. “So Annette was right all along. You are a witch. Your powers were just locked.”

Ruby looked down. “I’m not sure about that.” She confessed. “I also don’t know how useful this magic is other than just creating light.”

Juste chuckled dryly. “Well. It did obliterate half an army of vampires. It’d call it more than useful.”

“But that was the scepter… wasn’t it?” She definitely didn’t sound too sure of herself.

Juste wasn’t sure about that, either. He knew the scepter had some sort of magic stored in it… but what if it was just and instrument for her power, not the source of it to create such an intense spell?

The Belmont was about to make more questions – her magic was intriguing; he didn’t like the fact that he didn’t know what he was dealing with… and the thing about Belmonts is that they usually knew what the hell they were dealing with.

But he looked down at Ruby and noticed how she looked nauseous.

Alucard acted before he could.

The white-haired vampire rested his hand over her shoulder. “We should depart tomorrow morning,” he said in a calming tone. “Why don’t you get inside and have your things ready for the travel?”

Ruby looked surprised at first, then something like relief covered her features. She nodded and stepped back.

“You’re right. I’ll… see what I can do.”

She waved a small goodbye towards Juste and rushed to get into the house.

The old man sighed and crossed his arms. “Poor girl. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.”

Alucard just looked down in response.

Paris was still noisy with repairs happening everywhere – even noisier than usual. The party last night lifted their spirits, but now it was time for the Parisians to face reality: hundreds of dead. Countless buildings destroyed. A monarchy yet to be crushed… there was much to be done.

But strangely enough, Juste felt… excited.

...Renewed? Joyful? Perhaps all of these things at once. It felt as if the veil that covered his eyes and the weight heavy on his shoulders had lifted. He felt that… maybe, Juste had found a purpose again. One that went beyond survival or killing some vampires for a few coins.

One more noble, perhaps. The one that kept the Belmont clan alive for centuries.

Talking about something being alive for centuries – Juste looked at Alucard with a quirked eyebrow.

“‘Departing tomorrow morning?’ May I ask where you’re going next?”

Alucard’s expression softened slightly, the knot between his eyebrows untied. Of course Juste was curious. He couldn’t deny that the mystique (for lack of a better word) that revolved around Alucard intrigued him. Juste spent his childhood hearing stories about the man from his father, even though the half-vampire barely spent any time with him back then.

Which was even more intriguing, in a way. Because Alucard hadn’t changed a day since Juste was fourteen. Same appearance, same voice, same… everything. It was a bit eerie how this man that looked to be around his late twenties was actually lifetimes older than him… and it was a bit eerie how this young looking man could make Juste feel like a child.

Not intentionally or in a belittling way. But Juste knew what that look meant, the slight curve up of his lips. The barely there excitement and endearment, maybe.

“We’re going to Wallachia. To the Castle… and the Belmont Hold.” There it was. Alucard knew Juste would gasp, that his eyes would widen ever so slightly. “You’ve never been there, have you?”

Indeed. Juste didn’t know exactly why his ancestors left Wallachia or why they decided to spread around Europe. He thought it wasn’t a great idea judging by how little of them still remained. Perhaps staying in the Hold would’ve been the smarter decision. But Juste wasn’t there at the time… he couldn’t judge.

Every Belmont knew about the Hold and the centuries of information, history and magic stored there. Every Belmont knew that Alucard was the official guardian of the place…

“You’re more than welcome to join us.” The vampire continued. “Richter, too, if he wishes so.”

...And it would be a lie if Juste said this invite didn’t make his heart race.

Juste was a Belmont, but he was far from knowing the glory days of his clan. He’d like to know what remained of it, how magnificent the Hold must truly be. If he said he didn’t plan this trip many times, he’d be lying. But life always had a way to drift him apart from it over and over again – because of Lydie, then because of Julia… and then, because of his inertia that lasted years.

He didn’t have any of that anymore.

And yet – once again, Juste couldn’t go.

The old man sighed and crossed his arms. “I’m honored for the invite… but I’ll have to decline. Richter decided to leave for Saint Domingue with Annette… and I just can’t leave Maria alone. At least, not now. She needs someone.”

Juste knew this better than anybody. He’d seen it up close for the past few days – her fight against the darkness within herself, the loss of her mother… the way he failed in stopping her from killing the Abbot. Juste knew she hadn’t healed from any of that yet. Maria needed guidance. Not only because she was just a child in a cruel world – Maria was a powerful magician, perhaps more powerful than anyone first assumed.

And Juste had seen that darkness in her.

That linked with magic could become a catastrophe.

Richter still hadn’t told her was leaving… Juste feared what her reaction would be. So he needed to make sure she wouldn’t feel alone. Even though, well, he wasn’t great with teenage girls.

He’d have to overcome that.

Was he doing it for Maria, for Tera, for himself or for Julia?

Did he see Julia in that short blonde girl?

Maybe.

Juste just knew he didn’t want to fail in protecting someone this time.

Alucard shrugged slightly. “The place is part yours by right anyway. You can come whenever you want.”

Juste smiled and nodded. He then quirked one eyebrow again. Talking about feeling responsible over someone…

“You took full responsibility over Ruby, huh?”

The faint smile immediately vanished from Alucard’s lips. He looked down, the knot between his brows appeared again.

“...This isn’t completely over, Juste.” His voice was quieter, as if afraid any passersby could eavesdrop. Somber. “You saw it, too. The shadow.”

Juste felt a shiver just remembering it.

He was barely awake at the time, recovering from the heavy blow Erzsebet had landed on him and Maria. He was dizzy, confused, feeling pain everywhere… but he saw it. The whirlpool of shadows surrounding Drolta’s beheaded body. The laughing thing that emerged from it.

The demon.

“That thing appeared for the Abbot, too, when he died.” Juste lowered his voice as well, caressing his beard absently. “It came to reap him.”

“He probably had a deal with this demon… and he died before accomplishing it.”

“Which means Drolta had a deal with it, too?” Juste completed his logic. “Why would a vampire so powerful fall for that?”

Alucard tilted his head to the side. Juste could almost see the gears in his mind turning relentlessly, trying to come up with new answers.

“I can’t be sure. But… they had an immortal whose blood miraculously heals in their possession for a long time.” The vampire looked at him. “This feels like something worth making a deal for. No?”

Juste widened his eyes slowly.

...That made sense. Yes, that made a lot of sense.

“Do you think she was the bargaining chip?”

Alucard shrugged. “Erzsebet drank Sekhmet’s blood to become the goddess’ vessel… and Ruby’s blood to heal herself from the process. Drolta searched for a suitable vessel for millennia. Maybe she didn’t find one. Maybe she made one that couldn’t die this time… because she had a way to heal her continuously.” Alucard held his chin in a thoughtful expression. “And it’s not only that… right after Annette managed to rip Sekhmet’s soul from Drolta’s body, Drolta tried to reach for Ruby. I’m sure she did. Why would she do something like that on the verge of death?”

“Maybe to heal herself with Ruby’s blood.” Juste guessed. “Or maybe… because she was part of the deal.”

“And Drolta knew she had to do something about Ruby to complete her part of the deal before she could be reaped.”

It’s like Juste could visualize an intricate thread form in front of his eyes as Alucard spoke. The old Belmont tapped his foot on the cobblestones floor, hummed deep in thought.

“The fact that after Drolta died, Ruby remembered how to access her magic… a non-Speaker magic that I’ve never heard of on top of that makes everything more suspicious.”

“Yes.” Alucard nodded. “I believe all the answers are with her already. We just have to find a way to open the doors to her mind. My father’s knowledge might be helpful with that.”

“Let’s be glad that Ruby is cooperative, then.”

“She wants to remember her past more than all of us.”

Juste tilted his head. “Understandable. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like… to have no memories at all.” He hesitated a few seconds before speaking again. “Which… might lead to some uncomfortable discoveries, aye? Maybe she became a part of all this willingly.”

“I doubt it. She also wanted Erzsebet and Drolta dead more than all of us.” Alucard looked down again. “But if it turns out to be true… I’ll deal with it.”

Juste eyed Alucard in silence for a while.

Could he, really?

Of course – he didn’t want to question legendary Alucard. This man had killed more vampires and fought more magicians than Juste could even count. But Juste also saw that the vampire was… attached to her to some degree. He just wasn’t sure how deep this attachment was. Would Alucard be able to deal with her if he found out she wasn’t innocent?

Because dealing with it meant to kill her.

But… well… considering what he had already done in the past…

Juste didn’t even want to think about it.

“If it comes down to this… how are you going to do it?” The Belmont was, once again, hesitant, choosing his words carefully. “From what I’ve heard, she’s like a vampire. Does she die like a vampire, too?”

Alucard tightened his eyes slowly.

“I’ve seen a night creature bite half of her body. Multiple organs pierced. Bones crushed to dust. Mass bleeding. She healed in an hour and half.” The vampire looked down at Juste, maybe to observe his astonishment. “I don’t know many vampires who could survive all that.”

Juste went silent for a while.

That… that sounded dangerously close to something mankind had been looking for since the dawn of time. What vampires wanted the most. They called themselves immortals, but they could be killed. And yet…

“That sounds like true immortality.”

Alucard nodded slowly in a grave movement.

Juste felt his stomach get heavy.

He shook his head. “But that can’t be. Anything can be killed. We just don’t know how yet… in her case.”

Alucard looked down again. There was something very dark in his eyes… very cold.

“Perhaps the only person that knew how to is already dead.”

It took Juste a few seconds to understand what he meant… could it be… Drolta…?

But he saw someone else approaching – and the topic ended right then.

It was the ginger boy, Henri, son of the Judge.

It was a bit funny how awkwardly he walked. The young lad always looked like a pile of nervousness – blushing, blinking, averting his gaze elsewhere… so much that Juste wondered how the hell did he survive past night. How was he even a soldier?

“Did you call me, Mr. Alucard?” The boy asked. He hardly could keep eye contact with neither of them.

“Yes.” The vampire crossed his arms. He narrowed his eyes at Henri; Juste could almost see the boy shrinking under his gaze, though Alucard didn’t sound much different from how he usually talked. “Did you tell anyone about what happened yesterday?”

The younger one widened his eyes slightly. He unconsciously gripped his recently healed shoulder. “N-No, sir.”

“This information could put her in great danger.” Alucard stepped closer and lowered his voice. “The only people that know about Ruby’s ability are me, Juste and you. So, if anyone comes after her… I’ll know it was you.”

Henri got pale.

It seems that even his lips lost their color.

It was a bit impressive how Alucard could threaten in such a sophisticated way. Henri looked between the vampire and the Belmont, both much taller and muscular than him – and Juste wondered for a second if he’d piss his pants.

“O-Of course, Mr. Alucard. I’d n-never put Miss Ruby in danger. This secret goes with me to the grave.”

Alucard nodded approvingly.

He then looked at Juste. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some preparations to make as well.”

The vampire took two steps.

Juste watched Henri intently. In the time Alucard took these two steps, it looked like there was a war happening inside the boy. Finally, before Alucard could leave–

“Wait!”

He turned around and looked down at Henri. The quirk of his brow was enough of a question.

Before, Henri got pale. Now, he got as red as a lobster.

The boy avoided his gaze and bowed slightly.

“I-I’d like to properly apologize, Mr. Alucard. For c-c-courting Miss Ruby. I… I didn’t know she was is your fiancée.”

It was a difficult task to take Alucard off guard – but Henri’s “apology” certainly did.

Juste looked from the tall one to the small one repeatedly. What is going on here?!

Henri coughed. “I-I did not mean any disrespect on you, sir. Or on Miss Ruby. Please, forgive me.”

There were a few seconds of silence.

Juste tried to muffle an incoming giggle. So the boy thought they’re a couple?

The tension disappeared from Alucard’s face once more. He chuckled lightly and closed his eyes for a moment, looking like he found the situation extremely funny.

He patted Henri’s shoulder softly.

And walked away.

Not a word spoken.

Now Juste was caught off guard.

He watched Alucard’s back as he distanced himself, suddenly remembering what he said yesterday night when Maria asked him what he was going to do from now on.

“I’ve been alone for many years. It seemed, on the whole, for the best. But last night, I saw people who have found something… new and precious and… maybe world-changing. They were not ready to surrender it. They would rather die. I think I’d like to see how that goes.”

And Juste got it.

The old Belmont chuckled and patted Henri’s back. The boy gasped in surprise.

“You aimed too high, lad.” Henri looked down with blush already covering his cheeks and ears. “But don’t be discouraged. Paris is full of beauties.”

He walked away too before Henri could feel even more embarrassed.

Apparently… Juste wasn’t the only one with a new motivation to live.

You should be packing.

Well. Not that you had anything to pack. The maid had kindly brought a few pieces of clothing and a bag, so it was pretty much everything you’d be able to carry with yourself – but all of these items were still scattered over the bed, untouched.

All you could do was sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the sun sphere.

Sun sphere. It’s how that little girl in the dream called.

As soon as your eyes snapped open, you just knew how to do it. It was easy, didn’t make you feel tired. Almost as it you’d known how to do that your entire life.

It was the second time in 48 hours that a dream revealed something about yourself.

You remembered how, under imprisonment, you barely ever dreamed of anything – and now suddenly whenever you closed your eyes, your mind wandered. What if that was also Erzsebet and Drolta’s work? What if Alucard was right and your memory was blocked by magic?

Maybe these weren’t dreams. Maybe these were memories.

You closed your hand, making the sun sphere vanish. So you were in fact a magician, as Annette suspected from the start… though Juste stated this wasn’t Speaker magic. Alucard had no idea of what it was either. When it came to you, it seems no one had any idea of anything ever. Which, quite honestly, was starting to be annoying. Of course – no one had to know anything, but the sheer lack of information was just infuriating.

Alucard was confident you’d find valuable information in his castle, however.

Dracula’s Castle.

It felt a bit strange how Alucard didn’t call the place his. His father could’ve built it, but as far as you knew, it had been his for hundreds of years already. Why, then, didn’t he feel like he owned it?

The idea of being there was both exciting and frightening. Dracula built the castle. He lived there. And for some reason, the mere mention of his name already brought chills. You should’ve already mentioned this strange reaction to Alucard at this point, though you still didn’t quite know how to approach the topic… but it had to be done, right? And soon. You couldn’t run away from it much longer.

What was also exciting and frightening was the idea that you’d travel with Alucard.

Alone.

You weren’t scared of him; not at all. But… Annette and Richter wouldn’t be there to divert his attention. It’d be just you and him the entire travel.

You didn’t know if you could manage your embarrassment around him.

Why were you even embarrassed in the first place? You didn’t know exactly. Maybe the fact that you were so attached to him already. That… didn’t feel very mature of you. And Alucard was so mature.

There was no way you wouldn’t be attached to him when you knew so little about the world. But… how did he feel about all this? What if you were being inconvenient in some way?

You shook your head as if to make these thoughts fly away.

“Pack. I should pack.” You mumbled under your breath before finally getting up.

Two changes of clothes, one of which you’d obviously be wearing. A black cloak. You folded everything carefully and put it inside the brown leather bag the maid provided. And finally… something else you felt brave enough to ask for.

A small notebook.

The cover was made of black leather with a thin strip to keep it closed. It was a little bigger than your hand. With care, you took the lily that the three little boys had given you and placed it inside the notebook to let it dry there.

You’d just written a few things yet. A couple of phrases. You found yourself embarrassed of writing anything remotely personal, even if you were locked inside a bedroom. Probably because you were still under the panic of being watched at all times.

But you were scared of forgetting the frail memories you had retrieved… or even the events that unfolded in the past week.

You hadn’t experienced any memory blackouts since you left imprisonment. You woke up exactly were you laid previously; you didn’t suddenly find yourself in situations and didn’t remember how they started. But there was no solid proof that it couldn’t happen again. What if you had to use the scepter again and it melted your brain? What if it caused memory loss? What if there was actually something wrong with your head that had nothing to do with magic?

So you decided to keep track of yourself in this small notebook.

You still had to find the right words. It was… difficult to organize your thoughts in text. Your handwriting wasn’t the best, either. But you had to try, regardless of how awkward it’d feel at first.

You felt the presence before you saw him.

Something cold. For a second, you thought it was a freezing breeze coming from the open window… but no. Something in your guts knew better. Was familiar with it. The sense of danger they brought, the darkness and the cold.

The presence of a vampire.

You turned around in a jump.

You thought your eyes were failing you at first. It… looked like smoke. Pitch black smoke materializing in the room, condensing at the darkest part of it, were the thick curtains were still covering the window.

That pitch black smoke took the form of a man.

Your first reaction was to grab the sun disk. Your heart raced, adrenaline heightened your senses to a ten. The door was quite far… if he launched himself at you, would you make it to the doorknob in time?

But then… you looked at him.

Really looked at him.

The unknown man was tall and muscular. He wore a luxurious purple and golden attire. His long straight black hair fell to the right side of his face. His eyes… vertical pupils and an eerie, supernatural shade of green, contrasting with his brown skin. They seemed to glow in the dark. Astute eyes. Almost as if you stood in front of a serpent quietly analyzing its prey. His beauty was mesmerizing.

And you remembered.

“...I know you.” Your voice was quiet. “You were at the Erzsebet’s chateau that morning.”

The vampire opened an almost imperceptible smirk.

“I’m surprised you remember.” His voice was also quiet; smooth as silk, with a bit of rasp on it.

“Are you one of her servants? Do you seek revenge?”

He shook his head slightly. His earrings tinkled with the movement.

“Oh, no. I’m more than pleased that the bitch is dead now.” His gaze was so penetrating that you felt your stomach drop. He measured you up and down slowly. “But… I’m curious about you.”

You still moved slowly, as if you were indeed facing a poisonous serpent. Alucard didn’t feel this man’s presence in the house… meaning he was certainly skilled in masking his presence. That was no regular vampire. In a way, he exhaled that same quiet aura of an old, powerful vampire that Alucard had as well.

He didn’t show any aggressiveness in his expression or body.

Which made you remember something else.

The day Alucard took you from the chateau… the words he said.

Now, let’s go. I’m already abusing the opportunity my associate gave me…

This man was there to see you help summon the eclipse.

“...Was it you?” He waited for you to elaborate. “It’s you who told Alucard about me?”

He closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his head… almost a nod.

You straightened your back and lowered your arm slowly.

“...Thank you, sir. You saved my life.”

He seemed a bit taken aback by your sudden change in behavior.

“Nothing to thank me for. I was chasing after my own interests.”

“If your interest was to defeat Erzsebet, than I should thank you even more.”

He chuckled dryly. “You’re not what I was expecting. But… it makes sense, in the end.”

“What are you talking about?” You frowned.

“I wanted to see the person Mizrak risked his life for up close.” His eyes dropped to the sun disk in your hand. “So… it was really you.”

His last sentence went completely unnoticed. Your eyes widened.

“Mizrak?! Do you know Mizrak?” You took one step closer to him. “Is he alive? Is he okay?!”

The scene of Mizrak being stabbed in the stomach didn’t leave your mind. The amount of blood that flowed from the wound, the way he pushed you inside the cathedral… and how he simply disappeared after everything. Both Alucard and Juste tried to find him, asking in several medical posts (the improvised spots where the wounded in battle were being treated) if they’d seen him, but no one received a man with the same description.

You wouldn’t have reached Notre Dame without him. The idea that he could’ve simply died was agonizing.

The vampire quirked an eyebrow softly at your inquires. “...He’s still not well. But he’ll be.”

A side of you was immediately worried for Mizrak’s life. After all… this man could’ve helped you, but he still was a vampire – and you didn’t trust vampires. But there was something in the way his serpent eyes softened almost imperceptibly at the mention of Mizrak that made you… calm down about his safety.

You tightened your eyes at him.

“What’s your curiosity about me?”

The vampire watched you in silence for some seconds.

It was unsettling how you had no clue of what was going through his mind. The ghost of a smirk stayed there… almost in a mocking way. You wondered it you really should stop worrying. You wondered if it wouldn’t be a good idea to reach for the doorknob and scream…

But his eyes dropped from your face.

They lingered somewhere lower.

Your chest. The left side of it.

And… and it seemed he was seeing something you couldn’t. Something that made his vertical pupils dilate slightly.

Finally he looked at your face again.

Opened a lip tightened smile.

“Don’t bother, my dear. I already found out.” You watched as his body started to dissipate again in a shapeless black cloud. “Farewell.”

And just like that – he was gone.

You hadn’t realized you weren’t breathing properly.

You turned around and opened the door in a rush. What the hell just happened?! Who was that man? What did he mean? What if he was dangerous? What if he was still around? Why didn’t anyone else feel his presence?! You ran down the corridor, feeling adrenaline kick in again. The stranger saved your life… and didn’t seem aggressive. But that could mean nothing.

Alucard’s room was the last. The door was partially opened, so you just stormed in–

And froze.

Alucard was in the room.

...Laying on the sofa. Asleep.

His chest moved slowly. He was too tall for it… so one of his legs was over the sofa arm, while his other feet touched the floor. His neck was in an uncomfortable position. By the way his sword was leaning on the sofa and he had a small book over his chest… he didn’t plan to sleep there.

Your entire will to warn him ended right then.

From the moment you met him… the travel from Machecoul to Juste’s cottage, then all the way down the river towards Paris… Alucard didn’t sleep once. Richter and Annette took turns on who got to sleep. You even managed to sleep some hours at the atelier.

Alucard didn’t.

He’d been awake for days straight.

How could you simply wake him up now that he finally relaxed, even if by accident?

You stood by the door for some seconds. His long wavy hair fell over his shoulders and the sofa arm like a cascade of threads made with moonlight itself. You’d never seen him so… tranquil. No knot between his brows, lips completely relaxed. It made him look younger, in a way.

Slowly, you stepped back and closed the door, afraid to make any noise.

That could wait.

A/N: SO!! after over a month i know yall were expecting dracula's castle already or hot steamy sex!! BUT!! this is a transition chapter and it had to happen before we get to the next part!! it'll all be worth it later TRUST 🙏 what i will tell you is that one of the reasons why this ch took so long is that i REALLY wanted to write what comes next, but this one had to come first. and it kinda pissed me off, so instead of, you know, getting this over with, i just laid in bed and fantasized about the parts i ACTUALLY wanted to write. which means i am motivated to write again bc i'm getting to the parts i wanted. i don't even know if what i just said makes sense lmao but ANYWAYS!! trust the process!! 🙏

[kimvvantae]

Intertwined; 4

⤕ Luffy and you were like two sides of the same coin: opposites in every way, but similar in what mattered the most. Tied by a vow made with the purity of a child's heart, life keeps trying to tear you apart - but the vow that intertwined your destinies would not be broken so easily. Or, Luffy promised to marry you someday when you were kids. This is how he keeps his promise.

pairing: monkey d. luffy x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, toxic family relationships, death/grief, when i say slow burn i mean it

rating: 18+

word count: 11k oof

A/N: HELLO Y'ALL!! A little something I haven't explained yet - this story will be divided in 4 sections/parts. Part 1 which covered their childhood ends with this chapter. So next chapter, we're setting sail to pre timeskip times... where love will actually start blossoming 🤭 Also, I finally made a playlist for Intertwined!! I listen to these songs a lot while writing. I know these songs might be too upbeat or random considering how fucked up MC's life is all the time, but I couldn't make a SAD playlist for a fic involving mr. JOYboy himself 😭 Anyways!! Enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

➛ 11

You were eleven years old the first time you almost died during a commission.

The target was the leader of a criminal organization. They weren’t too well known, or too respected, or too powerful, but had caused enough trouble that someone was willing to commission his death. Boss Hamazaki was his name. He wasn’t a fighter. He didn’t have a Devil Fruit ability or any combat skills.

But he had bodyguards.

And you underestimated them.

That was a deadly mistake. Up until then, you hadn’t really struggled; your targets were like Boss Hamazaki, had no significant skills. You’d usually camp around them for a while, wait until they were alone, strike too fast for them to understand what was happening… and flee with a guaranteed payment. Truth is – you were an assassin, not a fighter. Not yet.

So when one of his bodyguards noticed your presence and stormed into the room…

Well.

Oops.

You got shot.

You had time to move slightly away from the trajectory of the bullet, but not fast enough to completely miss it. The projectile pierced your stomach. Adrenaline assured you to not feel immediate pain when it hit, so you managed to get a certified kill anyway. But… yeah. It hurt a lot. And bled. And you’d definitely had passed away if Landon wasn’t around to proceed with the first aids.

It sucked. Not because of, you know, the fact that you almost died – but because you didn’t remember seeing Crowley get seriously injured like that. Which meant he had an advantage over you.

And you hated it.

Competition within the family was highly stimulated. It was part of the tradition after all. The better assassin got a bigger percentage of the payments, more prestige, more privileges… and at the end, the better assassin would become the head of the family. The one to command Scarpia’s future and businesses wasn’t the oldest, but the best.

It made a lot of sense, since Urso – the oldest – was a useless. He had no ambition at all; to make him the head of the family would be an abysmal mistake.

So it was up to the rest of you to fight for more recognition.

Except… the fact that you were betrothed to Vinsmoke Ichiji already excluded you from the game, since you’d leave the family sooner or later; you’d have to carry your future husband’s last name.

Or, at least, Crowley thought so. He concluded that you were no competition – which meant you’d have to prove him wrong again, and again, and again, as many times as necessary, until he’d finally shut the fuck up.

The shot sent you a few points back in the board, though. It made you so angry at yourself that you couldn’t even turn that half of your brain off.

It was unbearably hot for some reason – and you should already be used to the heat and humidity of Mt. Colubo’s forest, but sometimes it was still too much. You sat on a big chopped log with your legs crossed under the shadow of a tall tree, scribbling furiously and biting the inside of your cheek. How could you better Crowley? What was his main technique at the moment? What was his best skill? What was his current kill count?

Luffy’s screams and grunts of effort were just background noise.

“Gomu Gomu no… Pistol!!”

God. How many times had he repeated that? You lifted your eyes momentarily to watch Luffy stretch his arm and try to punch a boulder approximately ten meters away from where he stood – but, as you had noticed, he didn’t quite control the stretching of his members. It seemed that they had a tension limit, like a regular rubber band. It made you wonder for a moment how far Luffy could stretch without ripping off…

Luffy fell back on the grass and groaned. He took two seconds to get up again and get in position again, eyes tightened.

“Gomu Gomu no…”

“Pistooool,” you said absently under your breath with him, with much less excitement. Your eyes glued back to the sketchbook on your lap. The snapping sound and his loud groan indicated he had failed again.

You already knew what was coming before he even did it.

“Heeeey! Four Eyes, you’re being boring! Get up and come train with me!”

You didn’t bother looking up.

“I already said I can’t move that much.”

It wasn’t a lie. It had been a month since the shot; you were still in the process of recovery. Usually, the Scarpia children wouldn’t have this much time to get a full recovery… but your parents wanted to be sure that you’d always be the healthiest so you could reproduce in the future.

Ew.

Luffy was crouched down in front of you in a second.

He pouted angrily. He was covered in sweat, the hem of his yellow tank top was drenched. Luffy didn’t look tired despite the fact he’d been training his attack since early in the morning.

“Boooo. Weakling. You’re a weakling, that’s what you are.” He poked your sides and your arms and your cheek repeatedly to call your attention. “Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Who the hell gets hurt like that? You’re just being dramatic.”

“If you poke me again I’ll crack your skull open.”

“Weeeeak.”

He tried to stick his finger in your nostril.

You flipped.

And then Luffy was running away from you, laughing hysterically, while you chased him around the forest with fire steaming from your eyes.

Luffy always got what he wanted one way or another – usually by being terribly annoying. The fact that you fell for it too was a bit embarrassing… but you ended up having fun anyway, so most times you let it slide. Not always though. He tried to stick his finger in your nose. He had to pay.

That is – until an agonizing twinge in your stomach made you halt.

You groaned, gripping your shirt, and leaned on a tree. Crap, I shouldn’t have moved so much.

The sound of Luffy’s sandals skidding on dirt floor echoed. He wasn’t laughing anymore. Taptaptaptaptap. He ran back to where you were.

“Hey– what happened?!”

“I told you that I’m hurt,” you said between gritted teeth.

“Eh… Hm…”

It looked like Luffy didn’t really know what to do at first, and he showed a rare expression: guilt. The straw hat boy put your arm over his shoulders and helped you walk back to that log you were sitting previously.

“D’you need something? D’you want water? You wanna eat? There’s bananas there– I can grab some–“

“N-No. I’ll be fine.” But damn, that hurt real bad. It seemed that your guts were rearranging in a strange way.

You were probably making a funny expression, because Luffy was starting to get pale.

“No, you’re not okay. Stay right here, aight? I’ll– I’ll call Ace–“

You grabbed his wrist firmly.

“I said I’ll be fine.” You grunted again.

You closed your eyes momentarily.

Luffy watched you in silence – which was a bit of a miracle.

The pain. The pain.

That place in your stomach. On the left side.

Does it have anything to do with the shot?

No. It’s the abdomen. It’s the muscle. Muscle strain. Hurts bad. But not serious.

So stop aching. Stop. Stop. Stop.

Your features softened. The pain was gone.

You took a deep breath and stretched your arms.

When you opened your eyes, Luffy was staring at you… very confused.

“So, uh… what just happened here?”

“I got better.”

“...I’m not that smart, but I don’t think that’s how things work.” He scratched his head. “You just made the pain go away?”

“Kinda.”

“How?”

Oops.

You weren’t supposed to tell him that.

Scarpia secret training. All that bullshit. You were so used to this technique that it didn’t even feel like a technique anymore; one of the earliest teachings, something each of you were trained to do the moment you learned to walk. You sincerely forgot this wasn’t normal… and most importantly, you forgot this was secret.

But Luffy already knew your secrets… so who cared?

You held your chin and tightened your eyes at him.

“...I think it’d be useful for you, to be honest. You don’t really control your stretching, do you?”

Luffy sat on the grass and crossed his legs. It was a bit funny, how you were sitting on the log and him on the ground, almost like a teacher and a student. It was also a bit strange how interested he got. Despite his never ending playfulness, Luffy took his training seriously.

“I control it. Until I don’t.” He grabbed his own pointer finger and stretched it until the tension limit, as if to illustrate. “How can this thing be useful?”

You hesitated for a moment. Your father’s voice echoed in your mind… The true jewel of the Scarpia family is our training. That is our advantage against the world, and that is why it must be excelled and kept in secret–

Ugh. Shut up. I don’t caaaaare.

“In my family, we call it Heavenly Control.” You started in a quiet voice. Again, unexpectedly, Luffy was paying attention. Had he ever sat down and payed attention in silence to anything before? “Like the name says… it’s the ability to be in absolute control over every layer of your body. Blood, muscle, bones… even feelings. You always know what’s going on inside of you, you’re always aware, therefore you can control it. And… you can get some results… like this.”

You made your nails grow and sharpen like blades.

Luffy’s eyes widened.

“Woooooah! That’s sick! I thought you weren’t a Devil Fruit user!”

“I’m not. It’s Heavenly Con– were you even paying attention to what I just said?!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He shook his hand dismissively. “So you can sharpen nails and make pain go away. How could this help me?”

“If you had absolute control over your body, you could stretch however you wanted. Even longer than you do now. Past the tension limit.”

“Past the what?”

“Past this.” You pinched his cheek and pulled it. Luffy groaned. You pulled and pulled and pulled until the skin visibly strained and you had to let go with a loud snap.

“Oooh.” He said while caressing his cheek.

“Also, it can be useful in battle. You can turn your emotions off to fight better.”

Luffy frowned and crossed his arms. “Uh… why would I do that?”

“Because it’s useful?”

“But it’s not fun.” He opened a mischievous smile. “When I find a strong beast, it’s fun to feel your heart pumping and your legs getting cold. It’s the best part!”

Oh.

You never thought of things this way. But, well… Luffy didn’t fight for money. When you had millions of berries at stake, you didn’t have time to have fun like that.

Luffy rubbed his hands excitedly. “But this sounds cool! How do I learn it?”

It was your turn to scratch your head hesitantly. “...I don’t know if you’ll want to learn it. Involves a lot of meditation.”

“And how’s it?”

“You sit still for a loooong time.”

Luffy scowled as if he had sucked on a very sour lemon. “Boooring.”

“Yeah.”

“But there’s no other way, right? So, come on! Teach me.” He punched his own palm and opened a determined smile. “I have to become stronger!”

There it was again. The way Luffy managed to surprise you. He hated anything boring, he despised being still in the same spot for more than two minutes… but he took his training seriously. More than anyone you knew. More than you, even.

It made you want to help him.

You smiled.

“Okay. But I don’t wanna hear complaints, got it?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “Let’s go!”

He did, in fact, complain a lot.

Not that you weren’t expecting him not to. He, in fact, seemed unable to sit still for more than five minutes. Anything and everything caught his attention – a bug, the wind, a leaf, a fart that would therefore break your focus and you’d have to smack him while he giggled.

You taught him the basis of the technique. Three days you had – and three days you spent trying to teach him to the farthest length of your patience. To be fair, there were moments when he actually seemed focused in the meditation process… the longest he stayed still was ten minutes. A miracle!

There’s no way he’d learn everything in three days, of course. Heavenly Control could take years to be mastered. You only did it so easily because you had been trained to do it at a very, very young age.

It was the last day of your stay when you learned once and for all that Luffy was not normal.

Not that you didn’t know it already to some extent. He wasn’t a normal boy. He lived in the woods being raised by a group of criminals. He killed giant beasts for dinner. Him and his brother invaded High Town weekly to steal and fight adults just because it was fun. No, Luffy was not a normal boy.

But you hadn’t noticed his true abnormality until that afternoon.

Luffy was training as always. You sat on that same log and made a last sketch before leaving – a green ladybug! –; the tiny insect walked slowly on the edge of the page. You did your best to not disturb it so it wouldn’t fly away.

Luffy screamed the name of his attack as always.

You decided to lift your gaze to him for some reason. Luffy rotated his right arm many times, his fist tightened.

“Gomu Gomu no…”

He took impulse and launched his arm.

“...Pistoool!”

It stretched. And stretched. And stretched.

Your eyes widened slowly.

It stretched more.

It stretched past the tension limit.

His fist hit the boulder this time – it didn’t destroy it, just cracking the tip of the rock. But that was the least of it.

His arm retracted with a sonorous snap. Luffy grinned and jumped.

“Yahoooo! I did it! Did you see that, Four Eyes?! I did it!”

Your jaw was on the floor.

To Luffy, he had just landed a punch on a target he wanted.

But you understood the gravity of what had just happened.

A target approximately ten meters away from where he stood. A distance he couldn’t reach only a few days before. A stretch he couldn’t quite control then.

He did it now – and it wasn’t a strike of luck. It had intent. It was a calculated blow. It… It was controlled.

Luffy mastered a secret technique from the Scarpia Family in three days without even practicing much. A technique you took years to truly master.

That afternoon, you saw the shadow of what Luffy was going to become for the first time.

I’m gonna be the King of the Pirates. I’ll be the most free. I’ll find the One Piece.

He repeated that over and over and over again. Any adult would judge it as the delusions of a kid that dreamed too much. And… well, at first, you thought he was being delusional too. You knew the seas; you belonged to the New World. Millions and millions set sail in the hopes of finding the One Piece. How many failed? How many had their hopes ruthlessly crushed when they crossed the Red Line and realized that they were just grains of sand against true pirates? How many didn’t have the will to continue? To persist?

But Luffy was there. Laughing and doing cartwheels to celebrate. The boy from the middle of nowhere who just mastered Heavenly Control without much effort in three days.

Luffy was going to become a beast.

You knew it.

You believed in it.

You mirrored his smile and clapped, making Luffy’s chest fill with pride. Your friend’s future was going to be wonderful.

You couldn’t wait to witness it.

➛ 12

You needed a weapon.

It’s something you didn’t think you’d need. Your own body and strikes were enough since you started your career. Sure, you received formal training on many types of weapons: swords (though they weren’t really your thing), daggers (these were useful sometimes), guns (not really your style)… you liked to work with your bare hands, however.

This opinion changed drastically over the past year.

Your commissions weren’t that easy anymore. Your success rate was still 100%. Which meant your prestige was increasing. Which meant your percentage in payments increased, too. Which meant commissioners were starting to book you specifically.

The White Wolf is how you were being called by some.

Which meant you were being assigned with less commissions, but more difficult targets.

Actual fighters. Devil Fruit users. Just attacking them by surprise wasn’t enough. They could defend themselves and fight back.

Just your body wouldn’t do; even Heavenly Control and its hardening technique wasn’t enough. You were still too short and too weak against adults that actually knew how to fight.

So, yeah. You needed a weapon. But which?

The Scarpia arsenal was a gigantic bunker with every weapon one could think of – all pristine clean, being kept inside glass cases, perfectly organized, not a grain of dust in sight. Swords. Sabers. Katanas. Spears. Daggers. Guns. Cannons. New model weapons stolen directly from Marineford. Paradise for people in the wrong side of life.

None of that interested you.

The twins fought with daggers. Saqr was becoming a sniper – and a good one at that. Crowley chose a scythe as his weapon (soooo edgy and forced, oh my God). Urso used brass knuckles.

What weapon could be useful to you?

One that could be used for both melee and ranged combat. You weren’t that tall compared to your brothers; you needed something that could be protective as well… but also fast. What could fulfill all of those needs?

To protect and attack… Close and distant… Fast and light…

Hmm…

...You thought of Luffy for some reason.

His stretching. The way he could whip his limbs around. He could fight from close up or from a distance.

...Oh.

You took a tiny Den Den Mushi from inside your jacket and dialed.

“Yes, Young Mistress?” Landon’s voice answered promptly.

“I need a chain prototype. Make it with Seastone. As light and thin as possible.”

“How many meters?”

“Let’s start with three.”

“As you wish, Young Mistress.”

It took four prototypes to get to the perfect weapon.

The chain was light; only four centimeters in diameter, but that was thick enough to actually hurt when a blow successfully hit. Forged in a mix of Seastone and iron: the iron for malleability, the Seastone for hardness. At the tip of the chain, there was a spiked ball the size of an apple to add weight and balance. It was a shiny silver because you liked pristine things.

It took a week to master its use.

You swung the chain around like a whip. Each fast whiplash was a guaranteed wound. You could swirl the chain around your body and it’d act as a shield, rebounding any projectile or attack. The spiked Seastone ball could be used for heavier blows. You had already learned how to wrap it around objects to pull them, to use each end in different situations. And you could just wrap it around your hip to make it a cute belt when you weren’t using it.

Just perfect.

You cleaned the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, recovering your breath. Chunks of destroyed training dolls were scattered over the entire floor. You looked down at the chain resting in your hands; now, they’d have to be covered in gloves all the time to avoid bruises. Yes, this prototype was perfect. So easy to use, so durable… the engineers did a great job.

You noticed Saqr and Crowley giving quick glances at you. You loathed the fact that they were training at the same time, though all of you refused to talk to each other. You knew they were assessing your abilities, probably finding ways to defeat you. But… you also knew that they had already admitted to themselves that this weapon was very effective, otherwise they would’ve mocked already.

The heavy doors of the bunker opened behind you.

It’s funny how you recognized your father’s presence without even seeing him. He was silent. His steps never made any sound regardless of how heavy or tall he was. And yet, whenever he entered the same space as you, immediate chills would run your spine.

You turned around and straightened your back. Saqr and Crowley did as well.

“Father.”

He walked straight towards you with his hands behind his back. His suit, always perfectly ironed. His beard, always flawlessly trimmed. His expression… always blank.

Drachen looked at the destroyed dolls on the floor. The chain in your hands.

For a second, you thought he’d mention your efforts. Your new weapon. Your progress. A compliment would be too much… a simple acknowledgment would be enough. A hint that what you did was being seen.

What left his mouth wasn’t disapproval either – and yet, it was so abysmal that you’d rather have him cuss you out.

“Did you have your first period?”

You froze.

It was like someone dropped ten tons over your shoulders. You felt pressure from all sides, crushing your body as if you were in the depths of the sea. Your face and neck burned.

Why… How…?

Three days ago.

You woke up to see blood in your panties. It’s not like you didn’t know what that was; and yet, it felt strange. It felt disgusting. It felt embarrassing. You didn’t tell your mother because you thought she wouldn’t care. You asked your maid for a pack of pads, but you were too embarrassed to ask her how to use it, though you quickly found out by yourself. You used Heavenly Control to try to ignore the cramps. You tried not to walk like a penguin every time you felt the awful sensation of a liquid dripping from your insides with no control over it. You obsessed over your hygiene, scared that anyone else could feel the smell of that.

It was all new and strange and so so gross.

Why is he asking me about that?!

How did he even know? The maid told him? But– But why him? He was your father. He was a man. You didn’t have the courage to tell mother about it; you could barely look at that maid in the eye. So… why was he…?! Of all people?!

In front of Saqr and Crowley?!

You couldn’t look at him anymore.

You just nodded.

Drachen crossed his arms.

“Go see the doctor today. We need to know if your reproductive system is healthy. Vinsmoke Judge wants reports on your health.” Silence. “Did I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, father.”

He nodded, turned around and left.

You just… stood there.

It’s like your body suddenly weighed too much to be moved. Like your ears were muffled.

You looked down at the chain, the weapon you had mastered so fast. The weapon you were proud of.

It was all useless in the end, wasn’t it?

Every effort. Every successful commission. Every training.

All that mattered was if your ovaries and uterus were working.

Your brothers were laughing hysterically.

They found a quick way to defeat you, after all.

➛ 13

Luffy’s straw hat didn’t look too big for his head anymore.

And he didn’t sound like a baby duck anymore, either. Which was… weird. Every time you visited, you could pin point the differences in his and Ace’s appearances, since people can change a lot in a whole year. Ace looked completely different from the boy you met five years ago. Well, he didn’t look like a boy, quite frankly. He got super tall of sudden. And muscular. And his voice got deep. And… well, he wasn’t a prick anymore, which was nice. He got used – unbothered – by your presence on your third visit (thank God; you were already so emotionally wrecked due to the engagement back then, if he decided to be an asshole, you’d have killed him).

Luffy still looked like a boy. But he was… changing.

He still was a solid five centimeters shorter than you, though, which made you happy for some reason.

You looked at him from over the sketchbook and sent him a challenging smile. “I’m almost finished!”

Luffy bit his tongue, his brows furrowed in a focused expression, while he scribbled something in his own piece of paper. “I’m almost finished, too!”

He was obviously lying.

Luffy always repeated that your drawings were good, but his were sooo much better – though he had never showed any. So you decided to challenge him: you’d have to sketch each other in five minutes. The best drawing would win. You sat in front of each other with a sketchbook over each other’s legs.

You still had a minute. The pencil slipped rapidly over the sheet to complete the details in his hair. The black strands of hair looked a little longer than the last time you saw him. Was it on purpose, or he just forgot to cut his hair? Could very well be the latter. His face… it wasn’t that round anymore, either. His chin looked more pointed. His cheeks, less chubby; his collarbones, more prominent.

You just had to add the scar under his left eye and you’d be done. You peeked at him one last time.

He was biting the tip of his pencil in a focused expression while analyzing his own sketch.

And for the first time in your life, a word popped up in your head.

Cute.

Your eyes immediately darted down again.

Woah woah woah. What the hell?!

The watch on your wrist marked the fifth minute.

“Time’s up!” You yelled. “Drop your pencil!”

Your heart racing is just because you’re excited about the competition. That’s all. Yeah.

“I’m sooo sure mine is better than yours.” Luffy grinned mischievously. “Ace! C’mere!”

The oldest brother appeared from around the corner, absently munching an apple. His hair was a mess. Had he been sleeping the whole afternoon?

“Y’all done?” He asked with little interest.

“Yeah. Be our judge.” You said, holding the sketchbook against your chest. “Me first. Ready?”

You turned the sketchbook around – and it was satisfying to see their jaws drop. Even disinterested Ace.

“It looks great!” Luffy exclaimed. Yeah, of course it did – even if you only had five minutes. A very realistic portrait of him.

“Yo, can you draw me like that later?” Ace asked with his mouth full.

“For a grand.” He gasped and frowned.

“Mercenary.”

“Alright, alright. My turn!” Luffy smiled and straightened his back. “Get ready!”

He showed his paper sheet proudly.

You and Ace stared at it in silence for some seconds. Then–

Ace cackled.

“What the–?!” You looked from the paper to his face angrily. “It doesn’t look like me!”

“’Course it does! It’s exactly like you!”

You almost couldn’t believe that.

Luffy drew a dog with round glasses and a skirt. Or it looked like a dog, but it was supposed to be a wolf… drew by a five year old. This? Seriously? And he kept bragging of how much better of an artist he was?!

Ace patted Luffy’s back while still laughing. “You won, Luffy!”

“How?! That’s not fair! You’re just saying that because he’s your brother!”

“Just accept defeat already, Four Eyes.” Luffy giggled mischievously. “I draw muuuch better than you.”

You wanted to punch the both of them.

Why did you even bother?

You already knew the forest well at that point.

It was funny, because you only visited once a year for a few days… but these trees, these trails were already so familiar. They felt like home much more than your actual home… though, being honest, you didn’t really have a home by then – not one that felt like it.

You avoided being at the Scarpia Island as much as possible. The family had many houses and hiding places around the world. You purposefully decided to stay as close to the East Blue as possible when you weren’t working, away from the New World, especially during the months that preceded your birthday; that way, you’d make it to Goa Island quicker. The rest of the year… you’d still avoid Scarpia Island like the plague. There was no reason to stay there if you didn’t have to be there.

Sometimes, you thought of maybe making Goa Island your own hiding place so you’d have an excuse to visit more often. But… no, that’d be too risky. Would put too many question marks over the place. Goa was far from anywhere important. They’d start asking why would you chose to be there. And Landon… he never left you alone for a second. He’d report back to your parents the second he found out about your friends.

So… this was as far as you could go – even if you felt that a week wasn’t nearly enough.

How many sketchbooks had you already filled? Pages and pages of insects, animals and even some plants. Goa Island always had something interesting to offer. It felt as if you could spend a lifetime there and it wouldn’t be enough to capture all of its beauty. They even had this strange bee species that you didn’t find in your Insect Encyclopedia. Maybe your book was outdated? Or have you discovered a new bee species–?

“Ooooi, Wolfie!”

You frowned and looked up.

As Luffy was taking a nap, you decided to wander into the forest alone to see if the beehive was still in the same place you found last time. Coincidentally, the beehive was near an area you usually avoided since that thing happened years ago.

So it was definitely surprising to look up and see Ace waving at you from the tree house he forbid you from getting near.

Huh… why was he waving? Was he rubbing in your face that you couldn’t climb up?

“Ain’t you curious to know what the view looks like?!”

You stared up in shock.

“...You serious?!”

“Of course I’m serious.” It didn’t look like he was trying to prank you. He gesticulated in a welcoming way. “Come up!”

He didn’t need to say it twice.

You immediately ran to climb the stairs. They looked pretty unsafe, but you didn’t care. Oh, it was impossible to not feel all giddy. If you said you had no interest in seeing it you’d be lying; you even thought of visiting the place in secret, but that’d just be rude.

After meters and meters of climbing one of Mt. Colubo’s giant trees, you were finally there.

The structure was circular, completely made of wood. Lime already covered part of the walls and roof; there were some holes on the floor. The wooden boards creaked beneath your feet. By the height of the ceiling, it was clearly made for kids – Ace had to lower his head to stand there. He leaned on the “balcony” with a relaxed expression; wind played with his dark locks.

You approached him. There was an old wooden helm by his side. You absently rolled it.

“You guys built it all by yourselves?”

“Yeah.” Ace looked ahead to the landscape. “Luffy, Sabo and I.”

Your stomach felt a little cold. Luffy almost never mentioned Sabo; you’d never heard Ace talk about their deceased brother until that moment.

That felt strangely special.

You leaned on the balcony beside him as well. The view was breathtaking; you could almost see the sea by that point.

“It’s pretty impressive.” You rested your cheek on your palm and quirked an eyebrow jokingly. “Why’d you invite me up here? Gonna confess your feelings or something?”

Ace chuckled. “Kids ain’t my type.” You stuck your tongue out, to which he just rolled his eyes in response before looking ahead again.

“I won’t be here when you come back next year.”

That took you by surprise.

Oh… you remembered. Luffy talked about it before; how he’d set sail at seventeen years old… and Ace was sixteen.

Surprisingly – the idea of not seeing Ace’s annoying older brother face made you feel a bit sad.

“So… you invited me here to make a last sweet memory?”

“Oh, God. Shut up.” He punched your arm jokingly, making you giggle. “And it’s not like we’ll never see each other again. I’ll probably end up bumping into you in the New World.”

You stared at him in silence.

He stared back.

“Luffy told you.”

“ ’Course he told me.”

You cussed him under your breath while Ace laughed. That stupid bigmouth!

“What’d you expect? Telling Luffy a secret is like giving bananas to a monkey and expecting it to not eat them.” Yeah, but he didn’t tell me your secret, a bitter voice in your head groaned. “Also… you were never really normal, Wolfie. It wasn’t that hard to guess there was something sketchy about you.” He patted your back. “But relax, I actually won’t tell anyone your little secret.”

You avoided his gaze for a moment. “So… you don’t care? About what I do?”

Ace shrugged. “None of my business what you do.”

Like Luffy, Ace’s reaction to your true background was nonexistent. Yeah. Both of them were coo coo crazy.

He closed his hand in a fist and rested his chin on it; his expression got a little more serious. After some seconds of silence, he spoke again in a softer voice: “...You know, Luffy is an outgoing guy, but he doesn’t have a lot of close friends. It might sound obvious, but… it’d be cool if you keep showing up… so he doesn’t feel that lonely without me.”

So… that was the reason. Yes, his “request” was a bit obvious, since you’d keep showing up anyway. But it made you feel funny. Maybe because you were reminded once again that, despite Ace’s hard exterior, he was a good older brother. And because as much as you’d deny it to yourself… deep down you felt jealous of what they had.

You massaged the back of your neck sheepishly. “Well… I only visit once a year for a few days. Does it even make that much of a difference?”

Ace scoffed. “Of course it does. Luffy counts the days for your visit every year. And he doesn’t even know how to count that well.”

Oh.

...That made you feel funny again. In a different way. In a weird way.

You avoided Ace’s gaze, looking down for a second.

He was already watching you when you looked up at him again.

He had a… strange, tiny smile in his lips. A bit mischievous, maybe?

No.

A bit knowing.

“...You have no idea, do you?”

You frowned.

“What?”

Ace chuckled again. He put both hands in the pockets of his shorts and started walking away.

“You should see the crow’s nest. The view up there is even better.”

“Wait– What are you talking about? Ace? Ace?!”

He just walked away, laughing and shaking his head slowly.

➛ 14

“Hey, hey, d’you see that?! Ace already has a crew! And a bounty!”

It was impossible not to see, as Luffy was pretty much shoving the newspaper in your face. You tried to smile with your mouth full of rice. Just the fact that Luffy was doing anything else other than eating the entire table during lunch was very shocking.

“Luffy, let her eat in peace,” Magura scolded, but he didn’t seem angry at all, a small smile never leaving his lips.

“I’m sick of you saying the same thing over and over. We all saw the newspaper!” Dadan groaned under her breath, to which Luffy just stuck his tongue out in response.

You couldn’t help but just smile at Luffy’s enthusiasm, even though you already knew about Ace’s adventures before you even arrived. He was making a lot of noise… albeit his bounty was still a humble 50 million. It was a bit strange to see his face plastered over a wanted poster and to know the entire East Blue probably already knew his name. Had he already entered the Grand Line, you wondered?

You eyed Dadan. The redhead woman showed a tough exterior as usual, but you didn’t see genuine annoyance in her eyes… much the opposite.

“Did Luffy cry a lot when Ace left?” You asked her jokingly.

“Hey! I didn’t cry!”

Dogura giggled and side eyed you. “Luffy didn’t cry-nii… But Dadan–“

She punched him in the head.

“Shut up! Where’s the respect?!”

She blushed furiously.

You swallowed your laughter along with the rice, afraid of being punched by her, too.

Mt. Colubo without Ace felt… weird.

Of course, you were happy that your friend was achieving his dream. Just like Luffy, Goa Island would never be big enough for Ace. And yet, his absence was noticeable at all times, something you just couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t there to make sarcastic comments, punch Luffy or laugh at you…

It felt empty.

And it was a bit sad to realize that if you were feeling like that, Luffy was feeling it tenfold worse.

He didn’t shut up. Not that he was someone to shut up on a normal basis, but now? The straw hat boy talked nonstop. He wasn’t even someone to talk too much about the past, yet you caught yourself listening to him babble about everything that happened in the weeks before Ace’s departure and everything he’d been up to since. Luffy wasn’t even focused on his training as he used to. He followed you around like a shadow. You wondered if his throat was dry from talking so much.

Ace’s request made much more sense now.

You were used to loneliness. You even learned to enjoy it to some extent. Luffy… wasn’t. More than that – he obviously hated it. So you could see why it was so tough for him being alone for the first time. Of course, Dadan Family was right there; he could go down to Foosha to see Makino whenever he wanted. But it wasn’t the same, was it?

So when Luffy dragged you to their tree house, you just accepted it. You didn’t make questions. You knew it was his little way of feeling close to his brother somehow.

Did it piss you off when a storm fell and there was no way of going back to spend the night on a warm bed? Definitely.

But you resigned yourself to not complaining out loud.

“We used to live here, you know?” His voice came from some corner, though you were too focused on trying to patch a leak on the ceiling to look back. The ceiling was so short that you didn’t need to stand on anything to reach it. “For a while.”

You gulped. By we, he was talking about Sabo as well. There was always a strange knot in your stomach in the rare moments Luffy mentioned him.

“Seems like a fun place for a bunch of kids to live in.”

Luffy giggled. “Yeah.”

His silence meant he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

You finished the patch and turned around.

Luffy had brought two thin mattresses, pillows and rags as covers. They were visibly very old, probably hadn’t been used in a long time… and kid sized. He placed them side by side and sat over his with crossed legs.

You sat in front of him.

The rain was loud out there. Luckily, it wasn’t followed by wind, so it wasn’t that wet inside the tree house. Kinda. The only source of light was your small lantern on the floor beside you two. It cast weird shadows on Luffy’s face.

He became… quiet all of sudden. He took his hat off and tried to scratch a stain from the red strip with his thumb. Shoulders dropped, head hung low.

Luffy looked less and less like a boy.

There was something a bit uncanny in seeing him so serious.

You crossed your arms and coughed. “What d’you wanna do? I got a deck of cards in my bag. We could play a game.”

Luffy pouted. “I’m not that great with card games.”

“You could learn.”

“You don’t have that much patience to teach.”

Bullseye.

“Uh… what about a guessing game?” Luffy didn’t answer, still focused on his hat. Weird weird weird. That’s so not him. I’m typically the one to be silent. Honestly, I’d rather hear him talk nonstop like he was doing before than this. “So what? We just gonna sit here and stare at each other?”

“It’s funny to see you try to cheer me up. Usually it’s the other way around.”

You were taken aback.

...Bullseye. Again.

Luffy had these moments sometimes when he blurted out stuff that showed he was not dense, even though he seemed to be. In fact, he payed a lot of attention to a lot of things – things that he found interesting, at least. And he’d blurt these things with a straight face, too.

He finally looked up and opened a kind smile.

“Thank you.”

Yeah. He… he looked less and less like a boy.

You looked to the side and frowned, hoping it would mask your embarrassment. “Why is it that whenever one of you bring me here, you get all emotional?”

Luffy giggled and finally put his hat aside before yawning. “Sleep in a rainy night is the best. Imma turn this off, okay?” He turned the lantern off before you could complain. Luffy laid on his mattress with his back turned to you. “Night.”

“Good night…”

But he was already snoring.

He dragged you to a place where you had nothing to do and slept.

Great.

You laid there, your back turned to him, for a long time. It wasn’t exactly pitch black; you could see weird shadows on the walls caused by the tree branches around. The endless pitter patter of the rain or a leak somewhere else in the house. The sound of Luffy turning around every five minutes. It seems he was hyperactive even in his sleep. It was a bit chilly due to the rain, but that cover was too short for you, which made you curl like an armadillo. You wondered how many insects were lurking in the shadows… if there were maybe snakes too looking for cover.

No sign of sleep whatsoever.

I should put the lantern under the cover and read a bit. Will he wake up with some light? Shit… the rain isn’t going away at all. I’ll catch a cold like that. Is he moving again? How can someone move so much sleeping–

Your entire body froze.

Every muscle. Every nerve. Even your lungs. Everything froze.

Arms wrapping around your waist.

His entire torso glued to your back.

And his face– his face was pressed on your neck. Right on your neck.

Wh– What?!

If that part of your brain wasn’t turned off, your immediate reaction would be to fight back. But it wasn’t on. That was Luffy. You’d never be able to hurt Luffy.

Even so – what the hell was he doing?!

Your heart raced violently as if it wanted to run away from your body; your breath came fast and short. Oh my God. What is going on? What?!

“L-Luffy?!” You managed to whisper somehow.

The answer came in the form of a soft snore.

Chills chills chills. He was breathing on your neck. It was cold then; now, it was steaming hot. His skin was always warm for some reason… but at that moment? Literally glued to you?

“Luffy?” You tried again, too scared to look over your shoulder. His hair tingled the back of your neck.

Another soft snore.

Sleeping. He was really sleeping.

Thinking back on it… you’d seen how Luffy usually sleeps. When he’s not sprawled over the bed like someone who just got shot, he’s hugging his pillow.

Oh.

So unconsciously… he found a pillow.

That made you calm down a bit – well, at least it wasn’t on purpose. Because it’d be strange if Luffy simply decided to… huh… cuddle. Not that you weren’t used to his hugs or the way he didn’t mind physical touch, but that was different. Very very very very different.

If I move away slowly… maybe he won’t wake up…

Yet, you didn’t move.

You stayed there. Still. Like a statue.

You weren’t brave enough to move away.

...You didn’t want to move away.

Luffy’s snoring wasn’t loud or annoying. His warmth… was comfortable. Shielded you from the rainy night. His grip wasn’t too tight. The slow movement of his chest against your back was calming.

To admit you were enjoying this would make you a weirdo?

Have you ever been this close to anyone before? No. Obviously no. You didn’t remember ever receiving a hug from your parents. They weren’t the type of people you could run to when you got a nightmare; they wouldn’t accept you into their bed and give you a comforting hug.

Yeah.

Perhaps being alone hurt you as much as it hurt him. More than you wanted to admit to yourself.

So slowly, your body relaxed. Slowly, you felt sleep getting heavy in your eyelids. The rain and Luffy’s calm breathing were your lullabies. Slowly, you fell asleep.

You woke up the moment he disentangled from you.

The sun already shone above the forest. He didn’t move away abruptly, but his lack of warmth was already enough to bring you back to consciousness.

You laid there, eyes closed, and waited to see what would happen.

There was silence for a while. Luffy didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound. You wondered what expression he was making. You wondered if he felt uncomfortable or weird. You wondered if letting him wrap his arms around you was inappropriate.

Finally, Luffy poked your cheek.

You turned around.

His hair was a complete mess. His face all puffy.

“Morning.” His voice was husky from sleep. “Let’s go down to Foosha.”

He didn’t mention what happened.

So you wouldn’t, too.

Foosha Village didn’t have a lot of kids anymore.

Makino still baked cake for the Mayor every year, albeit the parties became smaller and quieter. The Mayor himself didn’t seem to mind, as he had already said these birthday parties were more towards the kids than to himself; but he still enjoyed a good chocolate cake anyway. Who wouldn’t?

The bar was empty in the evening. You’d already helped Makino put the chairs over the tables to sweep the floor. Now that it was all cleaned and most people left, she brought the second cake. She always baked a second cake to prevent Luffy from eating everything by himself.

It was just you, Luffy, Makino and the Mayor eating cake, sitting on a round table.

“I’m glad Ace made new friends out there.” Makino confessed, smiling sweetly. You had noticed how she – and the other three – just mentioned the name Ace after the bar emptied. It put a question mark in your head, as it always did.“I bet he’s having fun.”

“Having fun?!” Woop Slap choked. “Makino, he’s a criminal now. There’s nothing good about this.”

“D’you see his bounty photo?! He looks so sick,” Luffy completely ignored the Mayor, speaking with his mouth full of cake. Makino giggled. “And in three years, it’s gonna be me. I’ll have an even better bounty photo!”

The Mayor sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “You still want to be a pirate?!”

“The King of the Pirates.”

“My God. This generation is doomed.” He scratched his head tiredly. “You should try to knock some sense into your friend’s head, aye, Wolfie? Since you seem like a good kid.”

Luffy scoffed. “Yeah. Tooootally a good kid.”You kicked his leg under the table. “Ouch.”

These moments were always nice. Just sitting around a table, eating cake and talking about anything that came to mind. The setting sun put orange shades over everything. The air felt lighter, fresher after yesterday’s storm; it smelled of chocolate, soda and salt. The weather was comfortable. Your heart, strangely at ease.

It’d be nice, you thought, if life had more moments like that.

The Mayor thanked Makino and said his goodbyes eventually. Makino, as usual, rushed you two to climb the mountain before it got dark.

“I gotta take a leak before we go,” Luffy said. You scowled.

“Rude.”

“Can I use your bathroom, Makino?”

“Sure.” The straw hat boy ran out of the bar, as Makino’s house was just beside it. The green haired woman looked at you. “I’ll take the basket in the kitchen for you, okay?”

The picnic basket, as usual. You nodded, and she disappeared behind the door.

You sat there, your back facing the front doors with your arms crossed, and let your mind wander back to what happened past night for the first time. Luffy was acting like nothing happened. Well, maybe in his mind, it wasn’t that important, as most things weren’t. Maybe he was right. Maybe you were looking too much into something unimportant.

...Why did, suddenly, you felt like it’d be difficult to be alone with him from now on?

Difficult in what sense? You couldn’t even explain why. The sudden embarrassment to look at him for too long. The… the weird thing in your stomach. It was all strange and stupid. You already knew Luffy for a long time, right? So there was nothing to be embarrassed of.

Makino appeared from behind the kitchen doors again, holding the picnic basket. “It feels weird to not put Ace’s slice this time… but I guess the others will be happy to have more food.”

Then, she looked ahead towards the doors.

Her eyes widened slightly.

“I’m sorry, sir… we’re already closed.”

There was someone else in the bar? When did they get in? How didn’t you notice them?

At that exact moment – the air froze.

It was like time moved in slow motion.

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears. You could see every grain of dust dancing in the air as sunlight hit them. You became aware of everything, your senses sharpened to the maximum potency.

The scenery around you wasn’t painted in orange tones anymore. It became blue. Freezing cold blue.

All because of the presence behind you.

You already knew who it was before you turned around. Yet, for a second, you tried to deny it to yourself. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.

But your senses never failed you. Not even once. You were trained to recognize immediate danger before you learned to speak. It was ingrained in your body and soul.

You turned around slowly. Immediate danger would normally make you take a fight instance in the spot. But that was useless against who stood by the door. The sheer pressure of his power. It crushed your senses, oppressed you, made the air knock out of your lungs. You wished for a second that it’d be anyone; a powerful Marine, someone wanting to kill you for whatever reason…

Anything would be a better option than who stood at the entrance of the bar.

And yet, when you made eye contact, all of your thin hopes were crushed. Everything was crushed.

Scarpia Virgus.

He looked at you in silence.

The man stood with his impeccable posture as always, his hands behind his back. He wore an elegant black suit with a deep purple tie. His long beard and hair, as white as snow.

He was not wearing his owl mask.

He was not blinking.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move.

It’d better to have a warship with all its cannons aimed at you. It’d be better to have an entire batallion of Marine troopers to face. Anything would be less dangerous than his mere presence, the single fact that he was not wearing a mask.

And Makino saw his face.

No no no no no. Please do anything to me. I don’t care. But don’t hurt Makino. Don’t kill Makino.

Finally, you gathered the strength to get up.

“This is my grandfather, Makino.” You said without taking your eyes off him for a second. He could kill her in the blink of an eye. He could bring this entire bar down with a single strike of the katana he held behind his back.

And yet, you found a way to sound somewhat normal, to not let Makino understand how close to death she stood.

She made a surprised face and looked from you to him. “Oh, really? It’s a pleasure meeting you, sir.”

He looked at her for the first time and your whole body tensed. Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her.

All he did was open a serene lip tightened smile in response.

“Can we talk in the kitchen for a while?” You blurted out. “Privately?”

Once again, Makino looked from you to him repeatedly. “Uh… sure.”

She stepped aside and opened the counter’s door so you two could walk into the kitchen. You trembled when moved into the bar. Don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt her.

When he walked past Makino, he bowed his head respectifully for a second.

You followed him shortly. Locked the door as soon as you closed it.

And then, you were alone with your grandfather.

He moved slowly, analyzing the area, as he always did. There was a small round table in the corner. Virgus sat down and put his long, black sheathed katana over the table.

He signaled for you to sit in front of him with his finger.

You obeyed.

The silence was excruciating. He was excruciating.

This was your worst nightmare. The thing you took every precaution to not let happen. The reason why you were so obedient for all these years, the reason why you trained and took commissions without a single complaint: so you wouldn’t be followed. So you wouldn’t be discovered.

But there he was – Scarpia Virgus, sitting in Partys Bar small kitchen. Your two worlds clashing. The one you hated, and the one you loved.

Grandfather wasn’t looking at you.

He took something from the inside of his suit: a small black velvet sack where he always kept his runes. Virgus shook the sack slowly. You could hear the sound of the small pieces of carved bones clacking against each other.

And when he spoke for the first time – your blood went cold.

“Monkey… D… Luffy.”

He dropped the runes over the table.

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling panic and defeat wash over you. He knew about Luffy. He knew everything.

Grandfather analyzed the runes in silence for some seconds. You never understood what those symbols meant and you didn’t want to. He caressed his beard and hummed.

“He’s the son of a dragon as well. I understand why you were naturally drawn to each other.”

You didn’t know what that meant. All you could do was try to control your body, try to not shake. Not Luffy. Anyone but Luffy. Please, don’t hurt Luffy. Please.

You gulped.

“How did you find out?” It was hard to control your shaky breath. Your voice was small, uneasy, compared to his deep firm tone. “Was it Landon?”

“It was Crowley.”

Once again, the air was knocked out of your lungs.

Crowley?!

He found out about Goa Island and Luffy? How? When?!

And then, for the first time, another feeling mixed with your panic.

Anger.

Hatred.

Crowley. That demon. He pried into my life. He put Luffy in danger. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

Virgus intertwined his hands and rested them above his stomach.

“You’re angry. He played dirty. Crowley is ambitious… he wants to be the best.” He quirked one eyebrow. “But you broke several family rules.” You avoided his gaze, way too ashamed to keep looking at him. “How many people know about you?”

Lying would be pointless. You didn’t want to put a target on Luffy’s head, but to lie would be to condemn everyone else, too.

“Just Luffy. B-But he doesn’t know our family name…”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

You gulped again. Even trying to put your emotions on autopilot was useless; not with him right there, what he represented.

“B-But Luffy is just a boy from the East Blue. Even if he knew… even if…”

“That simple boy is Vice-Admiral Garp’s grandson.”

That was enough to make you swallow whatever argument you had.

Vice-Admiral Garp?!

What?! No – that couldn’t be true. B-But– Luffy barely ever talked about his grandfather; he just said he was an annoying old man. You’d never met him. His grandfather was a Marine legend?!

Scarpia Virgus scoffed. “You didn’t know that? I’m very disappointed. You decide to reveal your true identity to someone and don’t even bother to know about their background.” You felt yourself becoming small. Small, small, small, smaller under his piercing gaze. “You know our family have some sort of freedom to do whatever we want. But Garp… he’s not the type of Marine that can be bribed. If he finds out his grandson is friends with a Scarpia, we’re all doomed. Do you understand the danger you put us all through?”

You looked down at the table. Fear, anger, shame. It was all crushing.

“Does my f-father know?” Your voice became even quieter than before,

Your grandfather collected his rune pieces slowly. “If he knew, this whole village would already be reduced to ashes. He would let the boy alive to not bring us any trouble… but not everyone else, to teach you a lesson.”

Virgus put the sack inside his suit again and leaned his intertwined hands over the table. His movement, getting even a bit closer to you, made you tremble.

“Your father is intransigent. He should be, as the head of the family. He won’t understand that you’re young, and youngsters make mistakes.” He paused to let his words sink in. You knew what the unspoken part meant. Punishment. Grave punishment. Months worth of punishment. “But I do.”

Your eyes darted up to him once more.

Grandfather caressed his beard again.

“Your parents want to take you out of the business completely... so you’ll be in perfect condition for your marriage.”

“What?!” You blurted out.

They wanted to keep you locked away at Scarpia Island until the wedding? Like a prisoner?!

That’d be worst than death.

“I don’t want that to happen as well. So this is what you’ll do from now on.”

You held your breath. Was he proposing a deal?

“You’ll become my personal pupil. I’ll train you beyond the child’s play Landon has been teaching you. But you’ll leave this island right now and never come back.”

You froze again.

Leave and never come back?

Leave Luffy?

No. No, no, no. I can’t. I can’t leave the only place I’m allowed to be myself. I can’t let my small island of peace forever.

I promised Ace I’d keep showing up. I… I can’t.

I can’t leave my only friend behind.

You tightened your hands into fists. Your heart raced violently.

“I-I… I don’t want to,” you managed to speak somehow in a shallow, weak voice.

Virgus scoffed – and you realized you committed a mistake. He’d been very calm until that moment; now, he sounded angry. The least thing you wanted was to annoy him.

“You’re in no position to not want anything.” Small small small the size of a grain of salt. “The rule of our family is the rule of the strongest. And you are weak. You’re weaker than your butler; you didn’t even notice my presence until I was behind you. You don’t want to obey me? What are you gonna do about it? Do you think you can fight me?”

“N-No. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can’t. You can’t fight anyone and win, because you’re naive. You haven’t understood yet that you’re a Scarpia; life will never be kind to you. Do you hate your brother? Do you seek revenge for exposing your secret? Do you want to confront your father? Do you hate this betrothal and want to get rid of it?” He leaned slightly closer. “Then be stronger. Be the strongest. Only then your voice will matter to anyone in this family.”

Virgus got up from the chair and took his katana again. “Say goodbye to him. I’ll be waiting in the harbor. If you disobey me… your father will know about this whole situation. And he won’t be as comprehensive as me.”

He started to walk away.

You gathered some courage.

“W-Why are you helping me?”

Helping. He was shattering everything that truly mattered to you.

But you knew he was right.

That was the rule of the family. The way out he offered was still much more merciful than what Scarpia Drachen would ever be able to offer.

He stopped.

“Because I see your true potential. And because you are my dear granddaughter.”

He left.

You sat there for a long time, staring at the table, until Makino walked in and asked if you were alright.

You weren’t.

You are a Scarpia; life will never be kind to you.

You would never be.

The climb up was silent.

Luffy babbled nonstop. You couldn’t speak anything. You couldn’t even look at him. Every step seemed heavy; with each of them, you felt as if a piece of your heart was dropping in the way.

You didn’t want to say goodbye.

But you couldn’t want anything. Not when Luffy, Dadan Family, Foosha Village would all be in danger.

It was all your fault in the end, wasn’t it? You weren’t careful enough; you were so sloppy that Crowley found out about your whereabouts. Crowley. I’ll kill him. I will actually kill him. This is not a joke.

Because of him, you’d never go back to Goa Island.

Because of him, you had to say goodbye to your only friend.

And it was stupid of you to wait until you were on top of your hill, that same place you sat down to eat watermelons all those years ago. The place you asked him if you could come back again. The same place where Luffy made his absurd promise.

It was stupid. It was silly. It was naive, as your grandfather called you.

But it felt appropriate.

You stopped walking.

Luffy looked back.

“Yo, Four Eyes, what’s wrong with you all of sudden?” He scratched his hair in a confused expression. “You constipated?”

Four Eyes. This stupid nickname. You weren’t even wearing glasses at that moment.

You gripped the handle of the picnic basket tighter.

For the first time, you looked up at him again.

The last rays of sun kissed his olive skin. Made his usually almost black eyes look dark chocolate. The wind hussled the trees around, played with the strands of hair on his forehead. You tried to memorize his slightly confused expression. You wanted to remember the face he’d make before you told him what you needed to tell, the last time he’d look… normal.

“Luffy, some… some things happened.” I can’t believe I’m saying this. Each word struggled to come out, as if you had swallowed sharp nails. “I received a call. I’ll… I’ll have to go back sooner.”

Luffy looked surprised for a second.

Then, his shoulders dropped.

Don’t make this face. Please, don’t make this face.

“Oh. That sucks.” He massaged the back of his neck awkwardly. “You leaving tomorrow morning?”

“I’m leaving right now.”

Don’t make this face. Don’t make this face.

“Ooh. It must’ve been very serious, huh?” It was his turn to look down. He somehow managed to smile again. “That means next year you’ll have to stay double more days to pay for now.”

You could say you’d come back, just so you wouldn’t have to go through all this pain. But that’d be way too cruel – and you couldn’t be cruel. Not with him.

You handed him the picnic basket.

“I’m… I’m not coming back next year, Luffy.”

He gasped.

His smile immediately dropped.

“...What?”

You looked down again, feeling your entire face and neck burn.

“M-My family is moving to the New World. It’s… it’s very, very far. I’m… not gonna make it here. Not anymore.”

That was the best excuse you came up with. You couldn’t tell him the complete truth. You couldn’t look at him. Just couldn’t.

Luffy put the basket on the floor.

You were startled when he put both hands over your shoulders.

And–

And he was smiling.

But it was a weird smile. It looked strained. Had he ever smiled like that before?

“No biggie!” His voice sounded strained, and strangely high pitched, too, as if there had a lump in his throat. “I’ll set sail in three years. I’ll get a crew and a ship. I’m gonna find you there this time!”

Oh crap.

There was a lump in your throat, too.

The final orange rays of light made it look like he was genuinely shining. His eyes were shining. You tried to ignore what that meant.

“You’ve been going through all this trouble of coming to visit me every year, right? Because I’m still weak and I don’t have a ship. B-But it’s alright! I’ll be even stronger in three years! Nothing will stand in my way!”

Then you were putting your hands over his shoulders too.

“No, I’m the one who’s weak.” You shook your head. “I’ll get stronger, too. I’ll work hard, okay? So no one will stand in my way.”

“Right!”

“Right!”

“This is a promise!”

“Promised!”

You hugged him.

Usually, you wouldn’t be the one to initiate any sort of physical touch. But how could you not at that moment, when your chin was trembling and you felt like you were holding back a dam? You hugged him tight, gripped the fabric of his shirt. Luffy hugged you back right away, offering no resistance; he never minded hugs anyway.

Shit, you didn’t want to let go. Even if you met each other again in three years – it was still three years, and you didn’t know if you could survive three years without him or Goa or the peace everything brought.

But it was your best shot anyway. Luffy’s safety was beyond your wishes. Even if it’d hurt.

Finally, you stepped back. Luffy coughed, scratched his nose with the back of his hand. His eyes were shining, but not in a happy way. His chin was trembling. God, his chin was trembling.

“Can you… hm… can you say goodbye to Dadan and the others for me?”

Luffy nodded. “They’re gonna miss your annual rent.”

You laughed and stepped back.

“So… I’ll get going.”

“See ya.”

You hesitated before turning around.

Your steps were heavy and slow; your shoulders were dropped, head hung low. This hill, this trail you already knew like the palm of your hand. All of these trees and bugs from the island that brought you so much comfort. You were saying goodbye to all of that. What if you had never climbed Mt. Colubo at 8 years old? How lifeless and colorless your life would be? You wouldn’t even know what fun meant.

What friendship meant.

You turned around abruptly.

He was still standing there, watching you go.

Your heart throbbed. Your hands were sweating.

“Luffy!”, you called.

He smiled and waved from far.

Your fists were tightened. You knew he wouldn’t hear if you didn’t yell. So you gathered all the air in your lungs for what you were about to say.

“Thank you for being my friend!”

Your voice echoed through the woods.

Luffy widened his eyes in surprise.

And then – he was ugly crying.

“Aw, come on, man! Why you gotta get emotional all of sudden?! Shut up!!”

You laughed. How could he make you laugh even in a situation like that? “I’m emotional? You’re the one crying!”

“I’m not crying!” He wiped his face with his forearm. But he was smiling through the tears, too. He laughed with you, too. “Get the hell out of here already!”

You sent him a last glance. A last look to keep in your memory. Luffy waving goodbye, grinning, at the top of your hill.

Finally, you turned around and walked down.

Then you were running.

Then you were crying.

Only when you were far enough. Only when you knew there was no chance anyone would see it. You crouched down in the middle of the bushes, hugging your own stomach, and cried. Quietly. Painfully.

You are a Scarpia; life will never be kind to you.

Your grandfather was right. Maybe you should’ve known it sooner. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad if you had already known.

But it hurt anyway.

No rain fell over the Goa Kingdom the night you said goodbye to your best friend.

A/N: THAT WAS SAD :((

so basically, "heavenly control" = rokushiki with another name (the thing the cp9 members b doing if you don't remember). i imagine the thing about being hyper aware and in control of your body would be the basis for rokushiki before u learn the hardening and idk flying like sanji.

assassin teenager that fights with chains?? WELCOME BACK GOGO YUBARI

all that shit happened right when my girl was developing her crush lol :((

as i said previously, next chapter we'll finally get to pre timeskip!! how will they meet each other after so long?? what'll be their reactions?? I DON'T KNOW!!

As usual, feedback is MUCHHH appreciated! If you read until here please don't forget to leave a comment <3 See you!

[kimvvantae]

Samsara; 1

⤕ She was plagued. Shadows loomed over her mind. She was alone in a world where no one dared to look into the occult. She missed the faceless man from her dreams, the one her soul longed for. She wanted to meet him again. He was plagued. Alucard had loved countless times. There was one love he was never able able to forget, however; the one that was ripped away from him. He knew they could never meet again.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: reincarnation, angst, romance, smut, hurt/comfort

warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (mild in this ch), mental health issues, blasphemy (?), reader is a girl kisser, lowkey ableism (use of the r word), century xix misoginy

rating: 18+

A/N: hello world!! first of all, thank you so much for giving this fic a chance!! <3 - this is loosely inspired by nosferatu. - takes place a few decades after nocturne, so century xix. - you're 27 in this fic which is still young but not TOO young bc i don't like the idea of a 300+ guy with a barely teenager - i chose a bunch of random european last names, but i won't specify which country they're in because uh. don't wanna. please don't think too hard about actual history when reading this fic for the sake of, you know, fantasy. As usual, feedback is MUCH appreciated!! Let me know your thoughts!! Enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

SAMSARA; noun. The cycle of life, death and rebirth.

• • •

It was a perfectly normal morning in the Saint-Clairs’ manor.

The spring weather was perfectly normal – a comfortable temperature; perhaps a bit chilly at the hour, but it would definitely get warmer later on. Perfectly normal birds chirped their melodies, the breeze played with the perfectly normal trees on the backyard. You had just eaten a perfectly normal breakfast, wore a perfectly normal attire – light tones, hair carefully tied up in a perfectly normal bun, almost no rouge on the lips.

You could hear your little nephews playing outside. Perfectly normal. The nannies had trouble educating them, but well, considering their age, that was perfectly normal. Your brother-in-law had already left to his perfectly normal office in the city to take care of his perfectly normal real estate business while your sister was probably reading some of her perfectly normal books.

Everything was perfectly normal.

You just had to prove to Dr. Becker that you were perfectly normal, too.

Your posture was flawless – your hands resting politely over your lap; your expression serene. The wooden crucifix pendant hung from your neck proudly to give a sense of… well… normality. Dr. Becker had already taken his book from his leather suitcase. He sat across from you, legs crossed, adjusting his glasses over his eyes. His suit was perfectly normal. His gray beard was perfectly normal. He read his past annotations in silence for some seconds before lifting his gaze to you and opening a tight smile.

“How have you been these past two months, Miss Salles?” He asked.

His voice was calm and welcoming as usual. All odds considered, you didn’t hate this man. He was just doing his job based on what he believed… well, what everyone believed. You managed to open a small smile.

“I have been feeling very well, Dr. Becker. I believe the airs of the countryside really do me good.”

The doctor chuckled lightly and scribbled something in his notebook. “Oh, I believe you. The Capital is… noisy, isn’t it? And can smell quite bad.” He grimaced playfully.

“It certainly can.” You imitated his chuckle in a demure way.

“So…” He was still scribbling, eyes down. “How have you been spending your time?” His green hawk eyes were upon you again.

“I spend most of my days with my sister.” He took notes. “We’ve been apart for a long time, so… a lot of catching up to do.”

“For sure.”

“We go to church together on Wednesdays and Sundays. We do our prayers in the evening.” He took a quick glance at the crucifix on your chest before taking more notes.

“How do you feel being surrounded by other people during the masses?” He was looking at you again. “Any… sudden discomfort?”

That was his polite way of asking if you’d been panicking in public again.

“No.” That wasn’t a lie. “The church we go to is very calm. Mostly elders.”

“Good. As I have advised.” He nodded whilst taking more notes. “What else do you do?”

“Horse riding. I’ve always loved horses.” Dr. Becker nodded again and smiled.

“There’s some magnificent horses here, aye? I’ve taken a quick glance at the stables. Mr. Saint-Clair sure has great taste.”

“He does.”

“And a lot of space to ride, too. This is great. Being in touch with animals does wonders to the spirit.” More notes. “What else… have you been doing?”

“I spend a lot of time with my nephews, too.” The first time you opened a genuine smile during this conversation. Dr. Becker smiled too while taking more notes.

“They’re sweethearts, aren’t they?”

“Little devils they are.” You giggled. “But yes. I play with them when they’re not studying. They’re wonderful.”

“Your sister told me of the great relationship you have with them. You’ve always liked children, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

There it was.

The way Dr. Becker’s smile tightened. You’d been through this too many times to know what was coming next.

“I’ve come to know you like to tell them stories, too. Mr. Saint-Clair told me… of the bed time stories. About a… how was it called…? A vampire hunter. A witch. And a vampire prince.”

If you were a little less used to this type of interview, your serene expression would have faltered. Your nostrils would have widened in anger. Fucking Julien. Of course he’d think you were hallucinating to his children.

��They’re just bedtime stories.” You shrugged lightly.

Dr. Becker took a deep breath. “Yes, of course, Miss Salles. But… you do understand my concern here, don’t you? Vampirism… and the likes of it… have always been a recurring topic to your panics.”

You scratched your forehead. It was becoming hard to hide your discomfort.

“My nephews are boys. I tell them stories of bravery and heroism. This is the type of tale they like to hear.”

“Sure… but…”

“It’s called imagination, Dr. Becker.” You opened a tight smile. “I know my brother-in-law isn’t quite familiar with the concept, since he’s always so busy with work. But that’s just what it is.”

Maybe you went a little too far.

Dr. Becker looked at you in silence for maybe three seconds. Then, more notes. These notes took longer this time.

“On the topic of imagination. Your sister told me you didn’t have any night terrors these past two months. This is great news.” He looked up at you again. “Have you been taking your medication properly?”

No.

“Yes.”

“Any… nightmares? Strange dreams?”

Yes. Every night.

“No. My sleep has been silent… peaceful.”

“What a relief. Any apparition?”

Many.

“Not at all.”

More and more notes.

Dr. Becker looked to the desk resting behind him and took some papers. “You still paint a lot, I see.”

“Yes. The landscape here is beautiful. It’s impossible to not feel inspired.”

The doctor analyzed the paintings with care. Horses… Hills… Flowers… A portrait of your four nephews… All perfectly normal. All painfully boring. They didn’t like when your paintings got more free or abstract.

“You are very talented, Miss Salles.” That was a compliment, but deep down you knew it wasn’t. “Painting well” was a talent that many crazed women had. “Very beautiful.”

No blood or vampires or witches or demonic symbols is what he probably was scribbling in his notebook.

Dr. Becker put the paintings aside again and looked at you. Really looked at you, analyzed, scrutinized.

“I want you to be honest with me. Brutally honest.” Dr. Becker tightened his eyes. “How are you truly feeling?”

Horrible.

I have migraines. I have nightmares. I feel shivers all the time. I know something bad is going to happen. I have been dreaming of him more than ever. My heart aches whenever I think of him.

But you’re not going to believe me.

So you smiled.

“I feel… at peace. I don’t know if it’s my sister’s company, or the food, or the Spring that makes me feel better. But… I feel that my prayers are finally being answered this time.”

Dr. Becker watched you. Analyzed you. Scrutinized you.

His gaze softened.

“This is wonderful news. I have been praying for your recovery as well, Miss Salles. God is definitely hearing; He always does.”

More notes.

You hoped he was signing your perfectly normal certificate this time.

Your older sister was a perfectly normal woman.

She was your opposite in many ways. Clara always fit. Demure, well-educated, a good Catholic from birth; she always excelled in her studies, she always did what was expected of her. Clara was a good child. She became a coveted lady. She caught the eyes of a fabulously rich man, as was expected of her. She married such man, dropped the Salles last name and became Mrs. Saint-Clair. She gave birth to four perfectly normal and healthy boys, as was expected of her. She was still beautiful and took care of her appearance well despite the four pregnancies, as was expected of her.

All perfectly normal.

But despite everything, you loved her.

She loved you – which was very surprising, considering the general idea perfectly normal people had of you, including your parents. Clara was never embarrassed of you, never wanted to hide you from the face of Earth… though, for most of the time, her feelings didn’t really matter.

Clara was the one who always tried to convince your parents that you were perfectly normal too, despite the fact that you much obviously weren’t. The times you spent not being hospitalized or in boarding schools or in convents (which were just asylums for rich women) were mostly thanks to her efforts – that is, until you’d have another panic attack or night terror or premonition and your parents would want to hide you from society again. This cycle repeated over and over again since you were… eight? Nine? You didn’t even remember.

As soon as your father died a year ago, Clara didn’t wait a week to take you out of the convent. Not only was she the oldest daughter and heiress to the Salles fortune, no one would dare argue with Julien Saint-Clair’s wife. She kindly took you to her home… well, you even tried to live by yourself at the Capital for a while until that happened and you had to come back.

The past six months had been good. Except for… well. Your problem. But you became quite good at pretending you were normal, so good that even Clara started to believe you.

“The appointment was good, I suppose?” Clara said after dinner, when the kids were already put to bed. She sat beside you on the couch with that hopefulness you were used to. “Dr. Becker said you made progress.”

You nodded. So you had succeeded.

“It’s like I told him. The countryside does me good. You and the kids do me good.” You playfully elbowed her side. Clara smiled and sighed.

“I’m so glad to hear that, sister.” She caressed your hair softly. “I’ve never seen you so… calm.”

Oh my dear, you have no idea. You were anything but calm. Your dreams and premonitions became more frequent over the past two months for no reason. But no, you weren’t going to tell her that – not only because Clara was perfectly normal, so although she loved you, she also thought you were insane, therefore you wouldn’t try to explain anything to her. And… you already caused her enough trouble. You didn’t want to bother her with what plagued you anymore, not now that she had her own family to care for.

“I feel calm.”

Clara rested her head on your shoulder. You stayed in silence like that for some moments.

You loved her. You loved her so much. There weren’t many people in his life who treated you with normality or even kindness. While your parents were alive, you were just a freak. A failure. To your religious mother, you were possessed; to your father, you were retarded. To the both of them… you were nothing but a problem. But to Clara, you were a sister – and she made her sons see you as an aunt. You’d always be grateful for that.

Clara played with the embroidery of the skirt of her dress absently.

“I was wondering.” Her voice was quiet and hesitant, which immediately made you feel tense. “Do you still dream of… that man?”

You froze.

“No.” Lie lie lie lie lie. You frowned. “Why are you asking me this all of sudden?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. I was just… remembering how you used to talk about him when you were younger. Those seemed to be your only good dreams. Right?”

You looked down, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way you gulped.

She was… partially right. Most of the dreams involving him were good. The faceless, nameless man that lived in your head and plagued your nights.

His voice was deep. Husky. Most times, serene. For some reason, you couldn’t see a face… just strands of long, golden hair. A scar crossed over his chest. Kind, reassuring words. Sometimes banter. The warmth of hugs. The heat of kisses. The ringing of laughter.

You’d dreamed of this man since… always. It almost felt as if you knew him. As if he was real.

And that’s precisely what plagued you.

You knew your problem wasn’t insanity – at least, not by the usual conventions of men. Every doctor, every priest, every nun, all of them tried to convince you that your shivers and terrors and dreams were just in your head (or, well, caused by Satan); they tried to make you not believe anything. But you knew they were wrong.

Because the things you saw and dreamed of happened.

You dreamed of your mother’s death five days before she went. You saw her die. You knew she’d have a heart attack at three in the morning, you knew she’d die on bed by your father’s side. You were locked at the convent at the time; you tried to reach for your parents, send them a messenger or a letter or anything, but the nuns simply dismissed it as another insanity fit. No one cared what you said.

She went exactly like that.

When you were nine, you saw your sister fall off a tree and break her arm minutes before it happened – you were on the other side of the house at the moment. The nannies were scared when you told them. Your father brushed it aside.

You knew the Mother Superior from the convent would die choking on an olive seed approximately two weeks before it happened. You didn’t warn anyone – they wouldn’t believe you anyway… and you hated her. You dreamed of your sister’s first pregnancy a month before the good news came. You dreamed of Julien Saint-Clair years before they first met, though Clara judged it was just a coincidence. There were so many more occurrences like that; you had premonitions of trivial things, like what you’d have for dinner tomorrow, or much more serious things like the mentioned above.

There was not a single time when these premonitions didn’t come true.

Which leads you back to that man.

Just why did you keep dreaming of him for years?

For a long time, you foolishly waited – hoped – he’d miraculously show up; a prince on a white horse to save you from your torture. But… you never met him. You never met any of the people that appeared in the dreams he was involved… like the redhead witch. The blue eyed, dark haired warrior.

These dreams were detailed. They were disconnected, like different pieces of a puzzle. Over the years, you managed to thread some sort of… timeline of events that you kept written on a secret journal. Sometimes they ended abruptly. Sometimes, you dreamed of them the entire night.

Your dreams usually depicted future events. These premonitory dreams were short, made you wake up with your heart racing. So the dreams with this man felt… different.

They felt like memories.

But how could you remember something you’d never lived?

You didn’t know. In fact, you understood very little of this problem. You’d never found anyone that actually sat down for a minute and listened to what you had to say without assuming you were insane on the spot. Your family discouraged you from speaking; the Church disapproved any of it, as “magic” and “seeing the future” were “demonic”. So all you could do was sit alone inside your own head and wonder.

You hated all of this. You hated that Clara of all people mentioned him. Just thinking of him made your heart tighten as if you were under physical pain. The man of your dreams… for a long time, you considered him a friend, the only one you had. When you were locked in the asylum that disguised itself as a convent, having not a single person to talk to and being constantly scrutinized, not receiving a visit from your parents for years… as you slept, all you had was him. The serene voice of the faceless man who seemed to love you despite everything.

It didn’t make sense to love someone that only existed in your own head.

You sighed. You weren’t insane, and you weren’t an idiot. Clara wouldn’t touch such subject out of nowhere.

“I am going to ask you again,” you spoke quietly but seriously. “Why are you talking about this all of sudden?”

It was Clara’s turn to sigh.

She straightened her back and turned her body in your direction slightly. Clara held both of your hands, resting them over her lap between you. She avoided your gaze at first.

Here it comes.

“You know I want you to be happy more than anyone in this world, right?”

“I do.”

“You know I love you more than anyone in this world too. Right?”

“I love you too, Clara.” You tightened your eyes slowly.

“And I want you to find love in your life. I… I hope it to be as kind and good as the one you described in your dreams when you were younger.” Your stomach started to twist. Oh no. “And… the kindest, purest love that exists is the love of a mother.”

No no no no no. You knew where this was going. You wanted to vomit.

Clara looked at you and smiled.

“I never thought I’d love anyone as much as I love my babies. Sister, my life… my life became complete with them in a way I can’t even describe. It’s the love of Mary. The love of our Lord.” She hesitated before proceeding. “I believe… I believe this type of love can complete you, too.”

You stiffened.

“Clara. Be direct.”

She gulped.

“Julien… Julien has an associate. A bachelor. He showed great interest in you–“

You immediately let go of her hands.

“Oh, right. Julien.”

“Sister, please…”

You couldn’t help the angry grimace that covered your features, the way you tapped your foot on the floor nervously, the crossing of arms. Julien. Of course he’s been looking for a way to get rid of me. You didn’t hate him – how could you? He actually loved Clara, he gave her four beautiful boys. But you knew he was similar to your father in many ways. He was perfectly normal after all – and you were a problem.

“Listen to me.” Clara continued in a pleading tone. “He’s a respectable man. I’ve already researched his entire life… I’d never let you marry someone indecent.” She hesitated before continuing. “We all knew this was going to happen some time, didn’t we?”

You refused to look at her. Yes, it was childish. Yes, you knew she was right. But it didn’t make anything better.

Clara reached for something on the cabinet near the sofa. It was a silver locket, slightly bigger than a common one.

She offered it.

“His name is Alfred Zardini.”

You took it and opened it reluctantly.

And you almost dropped it.

“He looks fifty!”

Clara took both of your hands forcefully, making you look at her. Right then, she wasn’t talking like a sister – she was talking like a mother.

“Sister. I know this might sound cruel to you, but we must be realistic.” You didn’t like that tone. Not at all. “Mr. Zardini might not be in his prime, but he owns half of this country’s ships. His family is traditional and respected everywhere. The life he can offer you is more than comfortable; he’ll make you a queen. Do you understand how blessed you are? How many women must be fighting to become Mrs. Zardini? And he showed great interest in you!”

“Oh, how extraordinary that any man would willingly court the Salles freak. How blessed I must feel!”

Clara choked on her own words.

“T-That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s exactly what you meant. Didn’t you ask me to be realistic?”

You got up and held your own head, feeling your breath get ragged. You walked from side to side, facing the carpet. You could feel Clara’s embarrassment and guilt fill the room – yet, you refused to look at her.

The Salles freak. The retarded daughter. You knew how people talked about you – sometimes they didn’t even bother talking behind your back. They talked about your night terrors, your hospitalizations, your insanity fits. They whispered and side eyed you. They made these whispers bigger than they actually were.

She’s been a burden to her parents. Now, she became a burden to her sister.

Mr. Saint-Clair is brave for letting her live among his children. Crazed women like that can become very dangerous.

Poor Mr. and Mrs. Salles! They didn’t have a son, and their second daughter is invalid. That’s why Clara is so kind; she always worked to keep this family together.

These were things you heard with your ears and with your mind. That’s what they thought of you. That’s why you avoided attending any social events, no matter how hard Clara insisted.

Were them all even wrong?

“You are not a freak. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Clara said.

“Does what I think of myself matter?”

“Of course it does. More than anyone else.”

You stopped for a moment and looked at her.

Your dear, dear sister. You knew she was trying her best – she always did. You knew taking care of you wasn’t easy. Yes, you woke up in the middle of the night screaming; sometimes, being in the middle of any crowds was unbearable, made you want to scream and rip your hair off because there were so many emotions and so many thoughts flooding into you. Yes, you knew that dealing with your visions would be scary to anyone perfectly normal.

You knew she was right.

You were twenty seven. You were a famous freak. The fact that this Mr. Zardini was even remotely interested in you was a miracle.

Julien saw you as a problem to be solved, an expense to be cut. Clara was the heiress to the Salle’s estate – and you knew she’d let you live the most comfortable life money could offer – but Julien was responsible over Clara. He owned the estate. He didn’t want to spend more money on you… so he found a substitute.

That’s why he’d been so adamant with the evaluations by Dr. Becker, you finally realized. He really wanted you to have a “perfectly normal certificate” to assure Mr. Zardini that you weren’t that crazy.

Was he even wrong? Shouldn’t women get married at some point? You couldn’t live in their home forever. You were a burden. You always were.

This would never change.

You sighed deeply. Your head hung low.

“I apologize, Clara. I’ve been ungrateful.”

“No!” Clara got up immediately. “No, you’re not. Don’t apologize.”

“I just got surprised. That’s all.” You couldn’t look at her in the eye. “I… I’ll go to bed and we’ll talk about it better tomorrow. Okay?”

“Sure. Sleep well.”

Maybe it looked like Clara wanted to hug you, but you couldn’t bear physical touch right now – so you turned around and left.

Your heart raced. Your mouth was dry. You wanted to cry – oh, please. Not right now. You ran through the corridors, not wanting to be seen by any maid so they could spread even more rumors about you.

You spent years locked by your parents in different institutions. Now, after only a year of freedom… you’d have to be locked to a man again?

You were about to reach your bedroom when you heard a whistle.

You stopped on your tracks.

“Auntie!”

It was Pierre, peeking at you from a breach on his door. He smiled excitedly.

You gulped, immediately swallowing the tears, and smiled too.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“You didn’t finish the story! We want–“

“–To know the rest!”

Oh. It was Gabriel too. They were all awake.

You really, really didn’t want to… but their little faces lured you in. You could feel their excitement vibrating in the air around them, making everything feel lighter.

How could you resist that?

You sighed and entered the room. They squealed in joy.

The four boys were reunited in Pierre’s bedroom, the oldest; he was ten years old. You sat on his large bed, and the others followed.

“Before I continue, I have to ask… which of you gossipers told anyone about our bedtime stories?”

“It wasn’t me!”

“Me neither!”

“Uh… I don’t remember…”

“Oh, sure. No one is to blame.” You crossed your arms, pretending to be angry. They all giggled. “Listen to me. Our stories are secret, aye? Otherwise they’ll lose all the magic.”

“Right, right! We won’t tell anyone!”

“So… where was I…?”

“The warrior and the witch crossed the magic mirror!” Gabriel remembered.

“Ooooh. Right.” You rubbed your hands excitedly. The four boys watched you with widened eyes and giant grins. You had dreamed of these events many times. They were as clear as day in your mind – almost as if they happened yesterday.

Almost as if you were there.

“The warrior and the witch crossed the mirror in time to save the vampire prince. Fire, the witch conjured; chains, the warrior swung. The flames surrounded them, engulfed the black castle in chaos. It was hot, so hot! Hotter than the hotter summer you can thing of. The castle felt like hell on Earth. There were monsters everywhere… and a powerful magician upstairs planning to do something terrible.”

“And what did they do next?” Little Leo asked, his eyes gleamed.

You smirked mischievously.

“What do you think? They fought.”

“Are you seriously hiding here?”

He peeked at her through his lashes.

She stood beside him with her arms on each side of her waist, gazing down at him disapprovingly. It was lighthearted, however. He knew it. The hem of her dress was dirty with mud, as well as the apron around her waist. Her hair, mostly hidden under a colorful scarf.

He liked it. When she looked disheveled and annoyed.

He closed his eyes again and hummed.

“Just five minutes.”

“They’re looking for you. They want to know where the tools are.”

“I already showed Greta.”

“Well, you clearly forgot about that part.”

“Can’t they just… search?”

“The basement is the size of a city. They won’t find anything.”

He sighed again.

“Just five more minutes.”

“You can’t be serious–“

His next movement was swift. He sat up, grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him; his back hit the soft grass under his body. Her head rested over his chest.

She was shocked for a few seconds.

“This was low of you.”

“I know.” He chuckled. His deep voice reverberated in her body. “Just five minutes. I’m serious.”

She sighed, but didn’t move.

He knew that soon, everyone else would find out about this clearing. It was hidden behind thick trees and tall boulders, just a little space in the midst of the dense woods, relatively far from the castle… and the newborn village. These people knew how to navigate inside a forest. Soon, this clearing wouldn’t be a secret anymore. But for now… it was just his bubble of peace, his breath of fresh air from the many voices out there.

That was being more stressful than he first assumed.

“I’m not used to so many people.” He confessed quietly. “They can be loud.”

“I know.” Her voice was as quiet as his, matching his tone. “I’d say you’re doing a great job, though. For a sheltered prince.”

“Of course I’m doing a great job.”

She punched his side playfully.

“Cocky bastard.” He laughed.

“The way they come to ask me things all the time… and make questions and… and Belmont…”

“Trevor can barely walk. He’s still severely injured.”

“His presence annoys me. I can feel his reek from miles.”

“Oh, God.” He couldn’t see it, but he knew she was rolling her eyes. But she laughed. He laughed, too.

She looked up for the first time, resting one of her forearms over his chest. She put a strand of golden hair behind his ear softly. He loved her touch. He loved her warmth. He loved her eyes. Loved, loved, loved.

“Everything will work out in the end.” She said softly. He chuckled.

“It’s already working, my dear. Because you’re here.”

He loved the way she was so fierce and outspoken, but would still open a shy smile whenever he said something like that.

“That was low of you,” she repeated. He held her chin softly, his voice dropping even lower.

“I love to play low.”

He captured her lips on his. They were soft, sweet, as they always were. It rapidly progressed from a small peck to a deep kiss, as it always did. He entangled his fingers around the back of her hair, as he always liked to do; she sat on his lap with her legs on each side of him, as he knew she would do from the start. His hands roamed her body. It spread fire through her skin, to her core, as it always did.

And then, he was sat, with her still on his lap; his lips kissed and licked and sucked on her neck, while it was her turn to grip his hair – as she always did. She bucked her hips on his repeatedly, deliciously, as she always did, igniting every nerve of his body. She was quick to unbutton his pants. She always was. She smiled mischievously when her hand gripped around his hot, hardened member, earning him a soft grunt, guiding it towards her throbbing entrance. She always did.

She always felt amazing. Hot, wet, tight – tight tight tight tight. He loved the sweat dripping over her face, neck, cleavage, the format of her lips. She loved his moans and his whimpers, the obscenities that erupted from his deep voice, his pleasured expression, the blush over his face and chest; he almost looked in pain. He looked glorious. He always did. He locked his strong arms around her waist, as he always did, while she rode him relentlessly, feeling every centimeter of him inside of her, melting and shaking at the way he filled her so perfectly.

They took much more than just five minutes.

They always did.

Alucard stared at the wooden ceiling for a long, long time.

He shouldn’t have slept. He’d been avoiding it for months, just resigning himself to quick naps when his brain couldn’t take it anymore. Well, that was a quick nap. He didn’t expect to dream during it.

To remember it.

He massaged his own forehead, letting a deep groan escape. Shit. It was getting worse. These… dreams. He didn’t know why. Quite honestly, he didn’t want to know why. If he investigated the cause, it meant he’d have to think about it, and he didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to remember it.

But Alucard wasn’t in control of his subconsciousness, unfortunately.

He sat on the bed, feeling his entire body heavy and tired, and pushed his hair back. The lighting from outside indicated night was about to fall… which meant he had an unpleasant task ahead of him. He didn’t have time to think about anything else. He came here for a reason. To lay on bed and brood over the past wouldn’t help him.

Alucard came to this city to hunt.

So he got up and washed himself.

He had been tracking this prey for months, the wicked magician that refused to die. He had many names over the years, but Alucard first met him by the name of Gael. The sick fuck obsessed with immortality. Alucard ignored him back then, but he knew better now. That man became far more powerful and dangerous than he could ever imagine. Ignoring him was a mistake.

Alucard didn’t know what the hell he was doing in the countryside, living among the rich. More importantly – Alucard didn’t know where he was. Gael was a master of disguise; that is why he was able to successfully hide from Alucard for so long.

Quite frankly, the half-vampire was sick of him.

It could be because Gael was a hateful murderer, because Alucard didn’t like him on a personal level, or because he was just very annoyed overall. Sleep deprivation was really starting to get to him. That linked with all these dreams…

Alucard made a conscious effort to never dwell too much into the past. As an immortal, he knew very well how dangerous it could be, how it could poison his soul. Of course… he cherished the ones he loved during his life. He was grateful for the marks they left. But some memories, some people just hurt way too much. Were too unbearable to take.

Like her.

Fuck. Just the thought of her made Alucard feel a sting right in his heart.

How long has it been? Two… three hundred years? In his mind, it felt like yesterday. Why were his memories so vivid? He didn’t remember every moment of his life with such clarity – and he was grateful for that.

But her?

The color and the texture of her hair between his fingers. The warmth of her skin. The sound of her laughter. Every conversation, every disagreement, every joke, every hug, every fight. Every good morning. Every good night.

He remembered everything.

He never forgot her. How could he? Alucard didn’t want to erase her existence from his life; he’d rather feel the agony of longing than the emptiness of never having met her. Even so… to think too much about her hurt, because it didn’t only bring the good memories. It brought the bad ones, too.

It brought back the farewell.

So, he decided to keep her… hidden in his mind, but at the same time, always there. She came back from time to time over the years – a smell that reminded him of her, a flower that matched her hair color, something he knew she’d find funny. Even after all these years, she stayed.

But these vivid dreams didn’t let Alucard remember her in a good but distant way.

They made him miss her. Miss her bad.

So bad that he was starting to lose focus.

He stared at himself in the mirror while adjusting his cravat. The curse of immortality kept him the same, except for his hair that completely lost their golden color over the years. Perhaps that made everything worse. A constant reminder that everything had an end; everything went. Everything forgot.

Alucard didn’t.

He sighed deeply and attached the sword in his belt.

There wasn’t time to think of any of it.

He had to hunt.

The ceremony hall of the Saint-Clair’s manor was crowded.

Well – as crowded as a high society ball could be. Prestigious families from all over the city came over, wearing their most impressive attires; an explosion of colors, silk and diamonds. Soft music played by a very competent band filled the halls. Conversations, laughter, the smell of wine and champagne… all very luxurious, all very proper.

Alucard would rather tap dance barefoot on broken glass than be there.

But he didn’t have much of a choice – not when he knew Gael would attend.

The stench of his magic was everywhere, made Alucard want to vomit. All of these humans, innocently walking around and talking, had no idea of the creature that loomed over the hall. Because that was what Gael became – he could barely be categorized as a human anymore, let alone a vampire. He was a thing. An entity.

He was disguised.

He could be anyone.

Gael was smart. He impregnated his presence everywhere, and did so well that everyone smelled like him – that old lady, that waiter, that musician… all of them. Alucard couldn’t simply attack. He had to gather information; he had to wait.

And no, he wasn’t trying to hide himself.

He knew the quick glances people took at him – some not so quick – and the whispers. The blushing. Alucard was taller than almost everyone else, it was impossible to go unnoticed. Not that he cared. He wanted Gael to see he was there. If Gael stayed, Alucard would find him one way or another; if Gael tried to flee, it would make Alucard’s life even easier. His absence in the city would stand out like a sore thumb. It’d be even easier to track him.

Unfortunately, that meant he’d have to behave for now.

He wouldn’t be able to hunt the way he wanted. No… he’d have to be polite and small talk. Because for these people, he wasn’t Alucard.

He was Duke Tepes.

“Mr. Tepes!”

Alucard turned around to see Julien Saint-Clair approach with a broad smile. The man hadn’t changed much since the last time he saw him three years ago… maybe his hairline was starting to recede. Alucard was glad to not know him for that long, otherwise Julien would find his unchanging appearance strange.

None of these people suspected Alucard wasn’t human, of course.

Mankind was changing rapidly. After Erzsebet Bathory’s failed attempt to rule the world decades ago, vampires got scared (for lack of a better word) and decided to hide more than they ever did. So, slowly, the fear inherent to humans was fading; the rise of technology, of easier global travels, of new discoveries, made mankind not look into what they couldn’t see anymore. Mothers didn’t warn their children about the dangers of the night. Fathers didn’t carry silver knives for protection.

This newer generation didn’t even believe vampires or magic existed.

Which was both good and bad. Good because it became easier for Alucard to simply blend in; when they looked at his pale skin or prominent fangs, they didn’t immediately assume he wasn’t human, because that would be illogical. At the same time… it made humans more fragile. How could they protect themselves against something they didn’t even believe existed?

In other words, Alucard had a lot of work to do everywhere.

Including there at the Saint-Clair’s manor.

He gave Julien’s hand a firm shake. “It’s an honor to see you here, my friend.” The man said. “Did you have a comfortable travel?”

“As comfortable as possible.” Alucard offered him a tight, humorless but polite smile.

Julien chuckled. “Yes, I believe coming all the way from Wallachia can’t be easy. Here, let me introduce you to some of my friends…”

Oh, there were so many excited to meet the Duke of Wallachia. Such a mysterious man. I heard he’s fabulously rich. I heard he owns a diamond mine. I heard he’s hard to approach. I heard he’s single. I’d like to be the mother of his children.

Alucard wanted to die.

It was hard to divide his attention between these empty conversations and finding Gael. The stench – it was disgusting. The pressure of Gael’s presence was like black mud dripping from the walls, from the tall curtains, made the marble floor sticky; every person present was drenched in this black mud, their teeth were dirty with it, their expensive attires drenched – but no one else could sense that, and that made Alucard go insane. How blind did humanity become? How can they not feel this?

Why did I let Gael get so powerful?

He silently stood in a circle of men – all rich heirs to different types of fortunes he didn’t care about – absently watching the champagne bubbles play inside the glass he held while they talked about… oh, he wasn’t paying attention. Any strange voice… any disturbance… his ears traveled far. He needed a hint. Any hint. Anything–

The man beside him gasped softly and looked back. Alucard didn’t remember to his name. It immediately caught his attention.

“Look who just arrived,” the man said, not necessarily at Alucard.

It seemed that the entire hall stopped for a moment to watch. It was weird.

Alucard frowned and turned around towards the entrance of the hall–

And the world stopped.

It stopped. Went silent. Went empty. Like reality itself cracked in front of his eyes.

Alucard couldn’t breathe anymore.

There were two women entering the hall.

They looked alike, probably sisters. The one that looked the oldest and had a large smile walked in front; she wore a deep purple ball gown. Pretty pearl earrings and a necklace decorated her skin. Julien Saint-Clair rushed to grab her by the arm, and Alucard immediately understood that was his wife, hence the commotion; she was the Mistress of that house.

But he didn’t pay attention to her. Not at all.

The woman walking behind her.

The younger one.

She wore an emerald green dress that let her shoulders and collarbones apparent. The tight corset, puffy sleeves and skirt had golden lines weaved into them. A diamond necklace sat over her collarbones with matching earrings. White embroidered gloves covered her hands.

Alucard could pretend that his breathing halted because the newcomer was beautiful – more beautiful than any other woman in the hall.

But that wasn’t the truth.

It was her.

The same the same the same. She looked the same. Exactly the same as the woman from his memory, the woman he saw as clear as day in his dream earlier that day. The woman that never left his mind. The woman that he loved with every fiber of his being.

The lover that died over three hundred years ago.

Alucard blinked, tried to recompose himself. No, this can’t be true. Stop that. It’s just… she’s just similar– no, not just similar; she’s identical. He felt his fingertips shaking as if a magical attack had pierced his soul, managed to crack his nonchalant façade. How can it be? How can someone be so similar to her…?

She wasn’t stained by that black mud, Alucard noticed. The only one that didn’t reek.

Gael. You have to focus on Gael. Stop that.

All of it happened in the course of three seconds.

“Sweet mother of Jesus,” the man beside him said under his breath. “That’s a sight for sore eyes.”

“Has she ever been this beautiful?” Another man whispered.

“I don’t even remember seeing her since she was fifteen.”

Alucard tightened his eyes slowly. So… he wasn’t the only one paying attention. Why was everybody else so shocked?

Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask–

“Who is she?” Alucard asked.

The man gave him a knowing smile.

“Miss Salles. Mrs. Saint-Clair’s younger sister. She’s a jewel, ain’t she?” The man chuckled. “But you don’t want that kind of trouble into your life, no matter how pretty it looks. Trust me.”

Alucard’s quirk of brow was enough of a question. The man took another sip of his champagne.

“That pretty thing is crazy.” The other men beside him giggled. Alucard didn’t like that… not at all. “I mean… clinically insane. She brought so much trouble to the Salles Family that I don’t even know how Mrs. Saint-Clair managed to save her reputation from her sister’s shadow.”

“Well, Alfred already made sure to keep her out of everyone’s reach.” The other man beside him said. “He’s going to court her.”

“Mr. Zardini?! I didn’t know that.”

“My wife knows it all.” He giggled. “Well, looking at her right now… the man might be a genius, aye? I bet a bit of insanity is worth it if he gets all that in the end.”

“But isn’t she too old already? Can she even bear children?”

Alucard felt more and more disgusted.

He wasn’t listening to their futile talks anymore. He tried not to, but his eyes unconsciously traveled to her figure again. Ms. Salles stayed closer to her sister; although she had a small smile and offered polite curtsies, he could see she was immensely uncomfortable. Almost like she wanted to run away.

How could she not, when all of these people were whispering absurdities about her?

He felt bad.

God, she is identical. She really is.

It wasn’t the first time Alucard met people similar to someone he met or loved in the past. How many Trevors and Syphas and Gretas had he already encountered? But… but like that? Identical like that?

Was she really all that identical, or was his mind playing tricks on him?

Maybe if he got a little closer… maybe if he heard her voice…

No. No no no no. That’s not why you’re here. You came to hunt Gael. He’s certainly in this hall with you. He has to be captured. He has to be stopped.

Alucard looked around. The musical group began a different tune, and couples started to walk to the center to dance. Gael. You must find Gael. He can be anyone. Pay attention, sharpen your senses; focus, focus…

“Look. Zardini is going to make a move.” The man beside him caught his attention again. They watched in expectation.

A tall bearded man that looked to be in his fifties slowly crossed the hall. He wore an imposing and expensive suit. His chest was filled, his chin was high with confidence.

He made his way towards the younger Salles sister.

Towards her.

And then, Alucard forgot about Gael.

He forgot how to control his body. He placed his glass of champagne on some waiter’s tray. His feet walked on their own. He crossed the hall at a nonchalant, yet speedy pace.

Alucard stopped in front of her before Zardini could.

The world stopped.

Identical. Identical. She’s identical.

Alucard didn’t let his astonishment show.

His face was a mask of serenity; in his lips, a small lip tightened smile. Her eyes widened. She let a small gasp of surprise.

The entire hall stopped breathing when Alucard bowed politely, his left arm behind his back, his right hand offered to her, and said:

“Ms. Salles, may I have this dance?”

[kimvvantae]

Intertwined; 3

⤕ Luffy and you were like two sides of the same coin: opposites in every way, but similar in what mattered the most. Tied by a vow made with the purity of a child's heart, life keeps trying to tear you apart - but the vow that intertwined your destinies would not be broken so easily. Or, Luffy promised to marry you someday when you were kids. This is how he keeps his promise.

pairing: monkey d. luffy x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, toxic family relationships, death/grief, when i say slow burn i mean it

rating: 18+

word count: 7k

A/N: Helloooo world!! As I promised last chapter, we're finally getting into Plot™ now! Shit gets real from now on!! Thank you so much for all the comments past chapter. Feedback is ALWAYS much welcome and appreciated! Enjoy! <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

➛ 10

Beautiful blue skies. Seagulls sang happily above your heads. It truly looked like the perfect day –and you couldn’t be angrier.

Why couldn’t the weather collaborate? Why couldn’t there be a hailstorm or a cyclone to ruin everybody’s plans?

Not that it’d make a difference, of course – it could be raining fire balls from the sky and it wouldn’t be enough to make Scarpia Drachen change his mind. Your father was many, many bad things, but he was many good things, too, and his stubbornness linked with his ability to make plans were unstoppable. If he decided he was going to do something, then he would do that and nothing would stop him. He would accomplish it with painful punctuality because, as he always said, time is money.

Which meant that this little family trip was extraordinarily expensive.

Having the entire family gathered in one place at the same time was some sort of miracle. After all, each of you were usually busy with commissions in different parts of the world at the same time. The only ones that were at the Scarpia island more often were your parents and your grandfather; these three not only stayed to manage the business, but also because they were way too expensive for most of the contractors. Scarpia Drachen and Virgus refused to step out of the mansion for anything less than five hundred million berries. As for your mother… she was unavailable most of the time.

But the entire Scarpia family was reunited for that banquet, from the oldest to the youngest, all on board of the black ship sailing the still waters of the Calm Belt, and that was definitely a very expensive miracle.

The banquet hosts were royalty, however – which meant they could pay for it.

If it was a normal day, maybe you would’ve felt some sort of excitement when the Germa ships appeared in the horizon. You had read about the incredible structure that formed Germa Kingdom: thousands of ships interlocked, forming a gigantic floating platform big enough to bear a castle and their splendid army. If it was a normal day, maybe you would’ve been impressed by the fact that the kingdom wasn’t even fully reunited, yet it already looked colossal – how big would the full fleet look like? Maybe you would’ve been excited to see the giant snail species that carried most of the ships.

But no, you weren’t excited. No, it wasn’t a normal day, and not only because of this strange expedition.

It was your tenth birthday – and instead of being granted your gift of free unsupervised days, you were stuck in that ship heading to a banquet you didn’t care about.

Your father was strangely kind about it... well, maybe “kind” is too strong of a word: he didn’t sound apologetic (he never did) and didn’t look like he cared, but at least he said that you could choose another week for your vacation. That was a little comforting… yet, you’d never seen any of your brothers have their gifts delayed. Wasn’t Drachen the punctual man? Why then when it came to you, things could be delayed?

Yes, you were angry.

Fuming, in fact. You hated all of this. Why were your wishes so easily brushed aside even though you spent a year working tirelessly? Another year of no failures on top of that. How long would it take to cross the Red Line? Even though you were considerably close to the continent, you would never make it to the East Blue in less than a week. No ship was that fast. You’d have to wait until a commission took place conveniently close to take your “days off”.

Which meant Luffy would be waiting for days – maybe months – having no idea why you didn’t show up on the agreed day.

Would he wait for so long? It’s been a year… maybe he had already forgotten about you. Maybe when you finally got to Dawn Island again, he’d be angry or not care about you.

You didn’t want to imagine that your year of relentless and tiring work would go to waste like that. Going back to Dawn Island was your sole motivation, after all; the thought that after all this, you’d be able to turn half of your brain off and rest with Luffy and Ace and the Mountain Bandits, to play and chase animals and maybe visit Miss Makino… but all of that could go to waste because of your insufferable father and his business meetings.

So, yeah. You wished the day was a little less pretty. You wished that a slightly smarter sea king would bite the ship despite the Seastone lining and swallow one or two of your brothers in the process. Not this beautiful blue ocean from all sides and the comfortable weather and gentle breeze. Why couldn’t the climate be on your favor for once?

From an outsider point of view, no one would even suspect you were that angry, of course.

Not only because of the white wolf mask covering your face completely. Your posture, calm breathing, utter silence… everything about you expressed serenity. As if your emotions and body were two disconnected entities. As if there wasn’t a person under that mask.

That wasn’t a talent exclusive to you. The entire family stood in line, side by side on the ship’s deck as it docked on Germa, with similar serenity and silence, faces hidden behind well polished masks, standing from oldest to youngest. Scarpia Virgus, your grandfather, wearing his owl mask. Your mother, Scilla, the viper. Urso, your older brother, the bear. Crowley wearing his crow mask. The white wolf. Saqr, the falcon. Samuel and Esmael, the coyote twins. Scarpia Drachen stood in front as the head of the family. His intricate dragon mask was the most impressive of all.

All the noise came from the Germa men yelling orders; the Scarpia servants with their black masks and tuxedos didn’t make a sound, only speaking when necessary without screaming. Quiet and expressionless and boring as usual.

You knew that your brothers were as annoyed and confused as you were, but stayed postured as usual. None of you really had a choice: your father wouldn’t answer any questions and he didn’t even like to be questioned in the first place… so all you had to do was wait to find out why the hell you were walking into Germa Kingdom.

Could it be a commission that would require the entire family? But that wouldn’t make any sense… Germa 66 was known as the most formidable army in the whole world. They didn’t need assassins. They also weren’t the type to not dirty their hands – everybody in the underworld knew that the Vinsmoke Family were mercenaries themselves. So this option was quickly discarded.

Could it be a new business partnership? That was very plausible. The Scarpia family could benefit from their high tech weapons. But what would father offer in return?

You got so curious for a moment that you almost forgot that you were angry. Yeah, screw all this. I don’t caaaare. I didn’t even want to be here!

So your mind traveled far when you saw Germa’s King and his entourage approaching – Vinsmoke Judge, the impossibly big man with his blonde mane, golden helmet and severe expression. He was followed by three color coded boys, all of them seeming to be Urso’s age, except for a girl in pink who looked slightly older. The stark difference between the families was a bit comical, even – Scarpias in all black; Vinsmokes in rainbow. Could your family be even more boring?

You didn’t pay attention when Judge and your father greeted each other with empty cordiality. Father could definitely kill him if he wanted, you quickly noted, but we’d all be dead by his soldiers in a minute. Physical power isn’t all. You rolled your eyes when Vinsmoke Judge congratulated your mother on her pregnancy – empty words again, and your mother was always pregnant, so whatever.

Then you all walked towards the castle.

The adults talked. Well, your mother kept quiet, but the others talked. You and your brothers walked in complete silence. The Vinsmoke kids chatted among themselves and seemed unable to walk on a beeline, sending you all side eyes, though they didn’t make any attempts to talk to you. Thank God they didn’t. They were loud and annoying, but not loud in a Luffy way or annoying in an Ace way – these kids were mean. That was as clear and obvious as the blue sky above. You didn’t even need to exchange words with them to realize that. Their loud antics were a very clear and obvious attempt to intimidate.

It probably would’ve worked on any other kid, but not on you or your brothers. Even the twins were unfazed, not paying them a drop of attention. Walking in silence. Perfect posture.

Boring.

You side eyed the only girl from the Vinsmokes. Her pink tulle dress and white boots were… cute. Her silver tiara, earrings and bracelets matched; a lilac cape that resembled butterfly wings completed the look. Cute, you thought again. She’s even wearing a bit of makeup. Which made you feel self conscious for the first time; your black formal dress and leather shoes were boring in comparison. The only “accessory” allowed was the red scorpion brooch the entire family wore over the right side of the chest. You were the only girl from the family, just like her; why couldn’t they allow you to wear something cute too?

Boring, boring.

Vinsmoke Judge guided the families inside the castle. Germa soldiers and Scarpia servants followed the entire way. Germa 66 flags could be seen everywhere; the décor with golden arabesques and many (many) paintings of the King and his children felt a bit tasteless and, well, boring. Your father and Judge talked nonstop. You had to admit that even though Judge was taller, your father didn’t look less intimidating than him… and he was certainly much more elegant and well-spoken, too. But you weren’t paying attention to whatever they were saying, so – boring boring boring boring.

After what seemed like an eternity, you arrived at a huge dinner room. It was slightly prettier than what you’d seen up until that point: one of the walls had floor to ceiling windows that granted a privileged view to the front square of the castle and the sea ahead. The large dinner table with velvet seats and many butlers were ready. Judge’s seat was more flamboyant than the others, as expected; he sat at one end of the table, Drachen sat on the other end. The rest took their seats following their respective family heads.

At least I’ll get to eat good food. Though eating with this mask is a pain in the ass.

The butlers brought the starters first – it looked like ceviche, though you weren’t sure. While the Vinsmoke kids started eating unceremoniously, you and your brothers waited patiently until your father finally held a fork.

“Your kids are well-behaved, Drachen.” Judge’s thunderous voice caught your attention for the first time. “I’m impressed.”

He didn’t sound impressed… Vinsmoke Judge’s voice always had a condescending tone to it. Well, what could be expected from a megalomaniac king?

“They’re assassins first, kids second.” Father replied with slight nonchalance. “This is the Scarpia way.”

Judge tilted his head slightly. “I’m curious to know what type of training they endure. It could be implemented in our troops.”

By that sentence alone, you already knew that your grandfather would intervene. “There are secrets that should not be unveiled, Judge.”

He didn’t sound angry or confrontational at all, but you saw with the corner of your eyes how the Vinsmoke kids froze for a second… because grandfather called him Judge. Not Your Majesty. But Judge wasn’t offended. He knew better.

A dry, humorless chuckle passed by the king’s dry lips. “Of course, Virgus. The entire underworld knows about the secrecy revolving the Scarpia family… my men are thrilled to even be in your presence. Many people think you’re myths.”

Drachen nodded slightly. “And we are honored to be in your presence today.”

You were thankful for that mask. It allowed you to roll your eyes as many times as you wanted and go unnoticed.

You took a small bite from the plate. Yep, ceviche. You’d be grateful if there was a bottle of hot sauce to pour on it. Oh well. These masks should have holes for the mouth. Put the food under the mask and make sure to not reveal a lot from your face was annoying, made eating less pleasurable… not that ceviche was that good of a food anyway.

I wonder if Luffy likes ceviche? Ugh- stupid question. He likes anything. He’d eat mud and call it yummy.

Luffy… you wondered if he was at the top of the hill waiting for you. You wondered if he’d be too pissed at you for not showing up…

“Soon we’ll all be family, however, so there won’t be secrets between us anymore… isn’t it, Virgus?”

That made you freeze.

You noticed Urso and Crowley freezing at your sides. Saqr and the twins on the other side of the table froze as well.

...What?

Grandfather nodded. “Of course. As soon as we become one, our partnership will be mutually beneficial.”

What?

Judge held his glass of wine and stood up, making everyone else follow instinctively. “I’d like to propose a toast, then, to the union of our families.”

What?

Union of the families?

Was… was this a betrothal banquet?

Who’s getting married? Your eyes flew to the Vinsmoke girl; she looked as surprised as you, which was somehow comforting. Maybe that’s why she was all dressed up? Was she the bride? So it’s Urso – that was the only plausible answer. Urso was the oldest, after all… it was appropriate for him to be the first one to get married.

“Finding a worthy partner to any of my children isn’t easy. The Scarpia family, however, with its tradition and prestige, is certainly the right choice. There isn’t anyone better to be Ichiji’s bride-to-be.”

The boy in red gasped.

What?

Your father lifted his glass of wine slightly.

“And I am sure my daughter couldn’t be in better hands.”

You lost the ability to breathe.

You froze completely as if your muscles became pure ice. For the second time that day, you were grateful for that mask. You couldn’t control your expressions anymore, you couldn’t control the sweat forming on your forehead or the way your jaw dropped or the way your eyes widened.

...WHAT?!

His daughter?! With that… with that boy?!

You turned your head slightly. The other three Vinsmoke kids eyed Ichiji, the red haired one. He looked as shocked as you, and maybe slightly irritated…

Then, he turned his head in your direction.

You avoided his gaze.

No no no no no no no. This can’t be happening. It can’t.

They kept talking nonsense, but your ears were plugged – you couldn’t hear anything but your irregular breathing. Yes, this was against the training, but you were far too dazed to care about it. You knew all the brothers were looking at you from under their masks. You knew your mother was paying close attention to you, probably uneasy that you could do something disrespectful. But no, you couldn’t even move.

Your tenth birthday.

A family reunion announced last minute so you wouldn’t be able to run away.

The Scarpia family could benefit from their high tech weapons.

But what would father offer in return?

His only daughter. You.

As soon as the banquet ended, you found a way to escape the room.

Silently, sneakily, before anyone could notice your absence. You didn’t even know where you were going; you just hid behind big plant vases or tables, trying to get away from them, trying to not hear their unbearable voices, desperately wanting to not be watched by anyone for a second.

After taking a few turns, you found an empty room and entered it.

You leaned your back on the wall and just breathed.

Your fingers were shaking. Your heartbeat increased by the second. You wanted to get that mask off to let some air touch your face, but you couldn’t, which made everything worse. You held the fabric of the dress over your chest, feeling your legs lose strength, feeling genuine despair.

They didn’t even ask me anything.

Which was a stupid thought – they never asked your opinion on anything. But this was, in a way, much worse than anything they’d ever done. When were your brothers ever subjected to anything so life changing like this? It didn’t matter that it’d still take years for that marriage to happen. How… how was your father able to sell you away like that–?

“Found you.”

You froze.

The shaking, the panting – everything stopped the second you put your body back on “autopilot”. You straightened your back and turned around.

It was Ichiji.

He wasn’t alone. His two brothers entered the room as well. The blue guy, Niji, and the green guy, Yonji.

You didn’t like their mischievous expressions. Not at all.

You didn’t like the way he called your name. Your real name. You hated that he even knew it. You despised his mocking tone, the way he almost sung it.

“Why is my bride running away like this?” Ichiji said as he approached slowly. “I’m not pleased with that.”

“I think she’s scared.” Yonji remarked. “She looks scared.”

“How do you know if she looks scared? We can’t see her face…” Niji observed with sarcasm.

Ichiji held his chin and hummed. You didn’t like his stupid face and his stupid red bangs falling over his right eye and the superiority look he sent you.

“That’s a real problem, you see. How can I marry you if I haven’t even seen your face? I mean, what if you’re ugly?”

“I bet she’s ugly.” Niji chuckled. “I bet all of them are ugly. That’s why they hide behind masks.”

“What are you gonna do if she’s ugly, Ichiji?” Yonji asked.

“Well… I’ll have to crush her face, then, until it gets pretty. But I should get rid of this mask first, right?”

The three got closer. And closer. They towered over you.

You didn’t move.

Their mean smirks and cruel eyes were overwhelming.

You didn’t move.

Ichiji lifted his hand to grab the mask.

You kicked him.

The movement was way too fast for him to react. Your foot planted on his stomach with such force that the red boy was sent flying away until his back hit the wall on the corridor outside.

The other two boys were shocked.

You straightened your posture. Your fists tightened. You stared at Ichiji in a way so intense that, even though your eyes were hidden under the mask, he could feel it.

“If you try to touch me again,” your voice was quiet. Serene. Menacing. “I will kill you.”

And that wasn’t an empty threat.

A part of you knew that was irresponsible. You felt the hardness of his skin when you kicked him; you had to use much more strength than first assumed to send him back, as if he was made of stone instead of flesh. You felt that he and his brothers were unnaturally strong. You knew that Ichiji just received that attack because you caught him by surprise, and that maybe fighting the three of them at the same time would be way too much.

But there was that other part of you, too. The one that was sharpened like a blade. The one that knew how to kill. The one that had killed many before.

These three? They had training. They had strength. But they didn’t have real battle experience, and you knew that.

That would be your advantage.

Ichiji stood up slowly while holding his stomach; with his other forearm, he cleaned the drool from his chin. His eyes were widened – at first, in shock –; it almost looked like he had never been hurt like that before.

Then… his blue eyes hardened in pure anger.

“You bitch–!” He panted. “How dare you hit me?! Who do you think you are?!”

He entered the room at fast steps. You didn’t move. The two other brothers looked at you with similar outrage.

“Niji, Yonji, hold her,” the red-haired Vinsmoke ordered. “I’ll teach this dog a lesson!”

They got ready to hold your arms, one brother on each side. Ichiji pushed the sleeves of his blouse back. Your got into a fight position for the first time, expanding your senses, getting ready to battle.

Niji and Yonji were a centimeter away from grabbing your arms–

Their touch never came.

Your eyes widened at the new presence towering behind you.

Landon.

The butler held the two boys back by their arms, keeping them away. Even though he wore the standard black mask, you knew it was him. Landon was watching me the entire time? I didn’t even notice him!

You were reminded once again of why he was assigned to train you.

“Your Highnesses, please calm your spirits.” His voice was husky and expressionless as usual. “This is a celebration day.”

The three boys were also taken aback by Landon’s sudden speed and strength… they haven’t met many people in this world able to hold them so easily. Ichiji was the first to recover, his face covered in a mask of anger once more.

“This bitch started! She kicked me!” He tightened his fists and stamped on the floor like a five year old. “I am a prince! Who does she think she is to kick me?! Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?!”

Ichiji didn’t see the person entering the room behind him while he screamed. Niji and Yonji gulped. Landon let go of their arms and straightened his back elegantly.

“Ichiji. This is no way to talk about your bride.”

The red-haired Vinsmoke turned around to face Judge.

Germa’s king didn’t look that disappointed or that upset or that he actually cared. His presence, however, was enough to make Ichiji deflate a bit.

“But dad! That dog kicked me!” His whiny voice made you want to vomit.

Your parents entered the room in time to hear that.

A small, hopeful part of you fantasized that they’d be outraged at hearing the way this boy talked about their daughter. This stupid hopeful part of you wished they’d call the betrothal off right then and right there.

But just like Judge, they didn’t care.

“His Highness was excited to see his bride’s face before the time, I’m afraid.” Landon explained calmly. “The Scarpia children are trained to never allow anyone to touch their masks. She acted purely on instinct, though maybe she shouldn’t have been so brute about it.”

Judge crossed his arms and looked at Ichiji with narrowed eyes.

“She was able to kick you?”

For the first time, Ichiji looked embarrassed.

“Y-Yes, but– it didn’t even hurt…”

Judge chuckled. “It just means your bride really is strong. Your children are splendid, Drachen. I can only imagine how extraordinary their offspring will be.”

Offspring?!

“Indeed.” Your father crossed his arms. “It’s all settled, then. I thought it was something more serious…”

“But dad–“ Ichiji tried.

“Well, they’re just kids, after all. Kids fight all the time. I’m sure they’ll get along in the future.” Judge ignored him. “I’ll make sure to educate my sons on the Scarpia traditions regarding your masks.”

The adults kept talking as if none of you were there.

Ichiji looked about to explode in frustration, which was honestly a bit satisfying. It seems he wasn’t used to be ignored.

Then, he locked his eyes on you.

He was furious.

Ichiji waited until your parents walked out to approach again. Landon didn’t move, which meant he couldn’t touch you – but it seems that he didn’t care.

He got close enough to talk on your ear. His voice dropped.

“When we get married,” he hissed. “I will beat you up so bad that you won’t ever get to walk again. I will make you swallow this mask. This is a promise.”

He and his brothers walked out.

You stood there for a good while. Landon didn’t move a centimeter.

The travel back was silent.

But not the usual Scarpia silence. It was a heavy silence. Uneasy. Hesitant. It felt that the atmosphere on board of the black ship weighed tons.

The dining room was so heavy that it was like gravity itself pushed everyone down.

Only the family members sat around the large round table, masks finally set aside. Night had fallen out there. The only audible sounds were of the waves outside and the quiet munching, cutlery touching porcelain plates. No one dared to look up from their plates. No one dared to do anything but eat.

You, however, hadn’t touched your plate.

Roasted sea beast meat with caviar and asparagus. Usually, you’d love that – but even the smell of food made you feel nauseous. Your stomach twirled around like a violent whirlpool; your limbs felt weakened. You couldn’t control your body. You couldn’t control your feelings.

How dare them act like nothing happened?

How dare them eat their dinner without addressing anything? Without explaining anything?

How dare them sacrifice you like that?

You couldn’t even breathe.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Your father broke the silence for the first time. It felt as if everyone in the room – except for grandfather – felt a slight electric shock at the sound of his deep velvety voice. “Your food will get cold.”

“It’s not fair.”

Everyone paused for a second.

If no one’s gonna bring it up, then I will. I can’t keep quiet. I won’t keep quiet.

Their eyes slowly turned to you. Father was the only one unfazed. He took another bite and licked his lips.

“What’s not fair?”

“You know what.” Your hands, resting over your lap, gripped the fabric of your dress nervously. Your heartbeat increased, you felt blood rushing to your head and face. You stared at your father, sitting across from you at the table, without even blinking. “Why me? Urso is the oldest, he should be the one to get engaged first.”

Urso tightened his eyes at you with a warning expression. Don’t drag me into this!

Father swallowed his food calmly.

“The duties of a woman are different than the duties of a man.” He took a small sip from his wine. “The wolf is a good mother. You will carry our bloodline with a suitable partner.”

You smacked your hands on the table and got up abruptly.

This time, everyone stopped eating.

You couldn’t believe that. It couldn’t be true. No. No.

Pure anger rushed through your veins.

“The wolf is a hunter!” You raised your voice for the first time. It trembled with rage. “I completed fifty commissions this year! I have never failed!”

“Precisely.” Father was still unfazed – and that’s what you hated the most. He didn’t care. He didn’t even look at you. “That is why Vinsmoke Judge chose you to be his son’s bride. You are exceptionally strong at such a young age.”

“I’m not lazy like Urso. I am better than Crowley.” You didn’t care that your brothers looked at you like they wanted to kill you. You didn’t care that the tension only heightened and heightened at each word.

You looked at your mother for a second.

Scarpia Scilla, going through her sixth pregnancy. Your beautiful, elegant and distant mother. The woman that almost never left the mansion because she was too busy being pregnant. The woman that almost never spoke at meetings and had little to no active voice in decisions regarding the business. The woman that dedicated her life solely to teaching her children. The way none of you resembled your mother – you all had inherited Drachen’s hair, eyes, skin; you were copies of him. Not her. She was just a means to an end.

And that frightened you.

“Why are you dooming me to be just someone’s wife?!”

Father lifted his eyes for the first time.

At that moment – air was knocked off your lungs.

He didn’t move. His expression didn’t even change that much. But you saw it – the ferocity in his eyes. The authority. You felt it like needles stinging your whole body, like a shockwave of heat melting your skin. You felt it in your guts, in your bones… that strange power Scarpia Drachen had to make others submit. To make others pass out in his presence. He let just a very subtle breeze of that power loose…

But that was enough to make you freeze.

Everyone else did, too. Everyone else stopped breathing. Everyone else locked their eyes on their plates, not daring to look to their sides. The only unaffected was your grandfather. You knew even the servants outside must’ve stopped moving.

You went too far.

“What are you implying here?” His voice was quiet. That was something else you hated about him – he never raised his voice. But that wasn’t necessary. The menace was there, pulsing, squeezing your heart in fright. “Are you belittling your mother’s efforts for this family?”

You, somehow, found the strength to speak despite the invisible weight on your stomach.

“N-No– That’s n-not what I meant–“

“I’m making you a princess. This is how you thank me?”

“T-That prince called me a bitch and a dog. Why will you let me marry someone like him?!”

You were impressed at yourself for blurting that without passing out – and the tension only heightened. I’m going too far. I’m going too far. Stop. Stop.

But you couldn’t.

Father was outraged.

“Weren’t you claming to be stronger than your brothers? Why are you whining, then? If you’re stronger, you can deal with that boy.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to crash your plate on the floor. You wanted to punch him.

You wanted to cry.

Have you ever wanted to cry before?

“Maybe I’ve been too permissive with you for being my only daughter. But if you want to be treated like a man, then I’ll do it. Taking your books from you will be enough? Canceling your biology classes? Should I cancel your birthday trips?”

NO.

No no no no no no no not this please not this please please please not this no no no no no.

Your body went into autopilot again.

You stopped shaking. Your breathing went back to normal. You immediately sat down and lowered your gaze.

“I’m sorry, father. I disrespected your authority. I was caught by surprise, that’s all.”

Your voice came quiet. Serene. Expressionless. Robotic.

Please don’t take my free days from me. Please. Do anything else. Punish me in the dungeons for a month. Keep me locked. Poison me until I pass out. But don’t take my free days from me. Please, let me go to the East Blue. Please, let me see my only friend.

They were all taken aback by your sudden change.

After a few seconds of silence, your grandfather let a deep sigh.

“Drachen. She is just a child.” He sounded tired… even a bit annoyed. “She doesn’t even understand what marriage means yet. Of course she’ll be upset.”

Father crossed his arms and sighed.

“Scilla. Make sure to teach her about it.” Your mother nodded. “...I won’t take your birthday gift from you. You deserve it, after all. Your year was splendid.”

“Thank you, father.”

“Apologize to your mother as well.”

“I am sorry, mother.”

“...As a woman, you’ll get used to the idea of marriage eventually. But my father is right… right now, you’re just a girl.” He took his fork again. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

“Yes, father.”

You took the fork and started eating despite the nausea.

The ocean out there. Quiet munching. Cutlery on plates.

Other than that…

Silence.

This silence stayed with you for the next few weeks.

You went on with your usual tasks. You didn’t give your brothers attention when they tried to mock you. You didn’t complain about Landon’s training. You sat down and listened to your mother talking about marriage. You didn’t speak more than necessary… as if there wasn’t a person behind these eyes. As if your soul had left your body.

A new commission on the East Blue.

The travel was silent. The commission was carried silently.

As soon as you finished your target, you made Landon a quick call.

I’m taking my days off.

It took three days to get to Dawn Island.

After nine weeks, you sat at the top of the hill again.

It was early in the morning. The sky had that familiar dark blue tone indicating that the sun was about to rise. It was, once again, silent – but a peaceful type of silence, permeated by bird chirps, the wind playing with the trees. It was chilly. You were hungry.

You hugged your own legs, resting your chin over your knees, and watched the landscape.

...All that was bullshit. Your trip to Dawn Island was supposed to be always happy. It was a small span of time when you could simply stop thinking of your family or all the struggles you faced back home.

Why, then, didn’t your father’s cold words leave your mind for a second?

Why couldn���t you forget about your parents’ nonchalance upon seeing your “fiance” calling you names?

Why couldn’t you forget Ichiji’s disgusting promise?

Why couldn’t you forget your brothers’ – especially Urso and Crowley – mockery towards you?

…

Why were you crying?

You touched your cheeks with your fingertips, surprised to see them wet. Crying? Were you actually crying? Was that a sob? Why couldn’t you control it?

For the first time in nine weeks, you got off autopilot. You took the mask off. You felt things for real.

And it hurt.

You hid your face on your knees and tried to not make much noise, tried to swallow the sobs – but that was quite impossible. Crap, stop crying! This is embarrassing! You didn’t come here for this!

But how could you not when you already felt doomed?

You tried to control your breathing, sniffed, swayed slighlty forward and backward. Stop crying. Stop. You hate to get up and walk to Luffy’s house. He probably won’t show up. Yet, you still couldn’t move… and you didn’t want Luffy to see you like this. He’d probably laugh. You didn’t need someone else to mock you.

So you stayed there until the sun rose. Until the stars disappeared and the sky got light blue. Until the golden rays painted the landscape in new, more vibrant colors.

It felt that your legs were freezing.

But then… you heard a new sound.

Tap tap tap tap tap.

It was slow at first. Almost dragged.

It stopped abruptly.

Then–

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap.

“Heeeeey! Four Eyes! You came!!”

Loud laughter.

You froze – and it had nothing to do with the cold this time.

Your shoulders shrinked, you rapidly cleaned your face with the sleeve of your jacket. Crap, I didn’t think he would show up!

Was… was Luffy coming here every day to wait for you? For almost three months?

That made you feel funny.

You turned around looking like a scared rat.

Luffy looked the same. Maybe a little bit taller – still shorter than you –, the huge grin that probably ached his cheeks, eyes tightened. His hair was messier than usual, which made you wonder if he had just gotten out of bed. He wore shorts, a red shirt with the number 56 stamped on it… and bandaids. He had bandages around his left knee and right wrist.

Luffy ran towards you excitedly. “What the heck! I thought I’d never see you again!!”

Then, he opened his eyes.

He saw your red eyes and puffy face and humid cheeks.

His smile fell.

You gulped and waved timidly. “H-Hi. Long time no see.”

The straw hat boy scratched his head. “Uh… did something… happen...?”

You pressed your lips and looked ahead again.

You heard Luffy go hmmmmm. After kicking a pebble away, he sat by your side, legs crossed.

Silence.

He went hmmmmm again.

You didn’t have the courage to turn your face and look at him–

A flick on your forehead.

“Hey!” You scowled at him angrily.

“What? You’re not talking to me! Are you just gonna sit here and make this ugly face?” He crossed his arms and frowned. “The hell happened to you? I thought you were dead!”

You rested your chin over your knees again. “...I think dying would’ve been better.”

Luffy hissed and leaned away slightly. “Ugh. Don’t talk like that, you’re pissing me off.”

“I’m pissing you off?!” You whipped your head at him, scowling again. “You don’t know what being pissed off is!”

“I would know if you told me.”

He looked at you as if you were stupid.

He did that a lot, actually.

But he had a point. Kinda.

You sighed and gulped, staring at nowhere in particular. You didn’t really want to say it. It felt as if, by saying it, you’d make it more real than it already was.

Yet, at the same time, you needed to talk to someone about it… and Luffy was your only friend.

So you gathered some courage.

“...I’m getting married.”

Luffy gasped.

He blinked, tilted his head to the side.

“Congra...tulations…?”

“Don’t congratulate me! This isn’t nice! My parents are forcing me!”

“Oooooh.” Luffy still had that weird expression. He leaned a bit closer. “By the way, how old are you?”

“I’m ten.”

He smiled as if relieved. “Ah. Cool. For a moment I thought you were just a short hag pretending to be a kid.” You punched his head. “Ouch!”

“Don’t call me a hag!”

“But I said you’re not!” Luffy pushed his hat back and massaged his head. “But… uh… why are you so upset? I mean, what’s so bad about it?”

Your jaw dropped.

Luffy just kept looking at you with round eyes.

He… he really lived in another world, didn’t he?

“Everything’s bad about it!” You usually didn’t speak that loud or gesticulate this much, but you couldn’t control yourself anymore. “First of all, my parents are forcing me! Second, the guy’s an asshole! Third, they all want to use me like a… like a cow!”

He quirked one eyebrow. “A cow? Do you… like… make milk?”

“No!” You gripped your own hair like a maniac. “They want me to have babies!”

Luffy still didn’t get it.

“What’s wrong with that?”

He reeeeally lived in another world.

You took a deep breath and turned your body in his direction completely, sitting with legs crossed as well.

“Have you ever seen a pregnant woman, Luffy?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think having your tummy grow into a giant ball is okay?”

Luffy held his chin in a thoughtful expression.

“I mean… I do it all the time when I eat too much.”

“I’m talking about normal people! People not made of gum!”

“Uhhh…”

“Well, I’ll tell you how it is. It hurts!” You scowled just remembering your mother’s state, her pains, her complaints, how swollen she’d get. “Your whole body hurts for months! You can’t even walk after a while! And that’s not even the worst part!”

“What’s the worst part?”

“The baby has to get out sometime!”

Luffy’s face changed slowly. It got more horrified little by little as if he never stopped to wonder how babies are born.

“How… hmm… how do they get out…?”

“From below!” Luffy got pale. “You have to push push push until the baby comes out! And it hurts and it bleeds!”

He leaned away slightly. “From the pee pee?!”

You frowned. “What? No!”

Luffy got paler. He put both hands on the lower part of his back. “From the bootyhole?! You have to shit the baby out?!”

“No! It’s not– it’s not from the bootyhole! It’s from somewhere else!”

“So, the pee pee.” It looked like he was about to pass out.

You groaned. “Girls don’t have this!”

Luffy measured you up and down as if you were an exotic deep sea creature. “You don’t have bootyholes? How do you shit?”

“We have bootyholes! We don’t have pee pees!” This talk was starting to get weird. You crossed your arms and avoided his gaze. “W-We got something else instead.”

The straw hat boy hummed again and crossed his arms as well. “Uhhh. Makino didn’t teach me any of this.” He looked down at his shorts. “...I’m glad I have a pee pee.”

“Anyways! D-Do you understand now how bad this is?! I’m doomed!” I don’t wanna talk about buttholes and pee pees anymore! “They want me to be like my mother. All she does is stay at home and have babies. Mother is always pregnant. She doesn’t work, she doesn’t participate in anything else. I don’t wanna be like that! Never!”

Luffy scratched his chin. “Hm… what if you say you don’t want to get married?”

An incredulous laugh escaped. “If it was that easy, I wouldn’t be here crying about it!”

“Why’s it so complicated?”

He really really reeeeally lived in another world.

“I can’t simply say no. I can’t even run away. My parents have eyes everywhere, and I mean everywhere!” Luffy looked around you instinctively.

“Even here?”

“No, not here. Relax.” You didn’t feel like explaining the deal that allowed you to be there unwatched.

“So they’re not everywhere.”

You groaned again and rolled your eyes. Luffy was always so relaxed. So okay. It even looked like you were exagerating.

He stuck his pinky finger inside his ear absently. “Your parents sound worse than gramps, then.”

“What about him?”

He grimaced.

“He’s sooo annoying. He wants me and Ace to become Marines.” Luffy took his pinky out, rolled the earwax into a tiny ball and flicked it away. Ew. “But I’ll just do what I want anyway, so whatever.”

You sighed deeply again, feeling your shoulders drop. His grandfather was probably just a normal old man wanting the best for his grandkids… nowhere near the hell your parents were.

“I wish I could say the same.”

Luffy went hmmmm again.

And again.

He widened his eyes slightly. It was almost as if you could see a tiny lamp light up above his head, indicating he had an idea.

“When’s the wedding?”

“When I get older. Duuh. My parents are assholes, but they wouldn’t let me get married as a kid.”

“Years from now?”

“Obviously.”

“Huh. So just marry me instead.”

You whipped your head at him again.

“What?”

“What?”

“What did you just say?”

Luffy frowned. “You deaf?”

“I’m not–“ You almost gagged. “Did you ask me to marry you?”

“I didn’t ask. But it makes sense, right?” He crossed his arms again. “If you marry me before you marry this guy, they won’t do anything about it.”

“Of course they will! They’ll kill you!”

Luffy, once again, looked at you as if he thought you were stupid.

“Four Eyes, I’m gonna be the King of the Pirates when we’re older. They’re not gonna kill me because they won’t make it.” He opened his evil gremlin grin. “They got eyes everywhere? They’re super strong? What’s that compared to the Pirate King? You’re gonna be on my ship with my crew. Let them try to do anything!”

It all seemed to easy to him. So simple. So obvious.

And his idea was surely insane. Surreal. A bit stupid, even.

But the thing is.

You didn’t doubt that Luffy could become a powerful pirate in the future.

He was clumsy, dumb and naive. But he was strong. Not stronger than you… he probably wasn’t even stronger than Saqr yet. However, Luffy found a way to deal with his strange Devil Fruit, found a way to make it work. He moved and distorted his body in creative ways, he could do things no one else could. He fought giant beasts daily. He trained every single day. And he was a bit coo coo crazy in the head.

Above all this… Luffy had this dream, this goal, this motivation. It was already much more than you, who just got stronger because you were told to do so. Luffy was determined. Stubborn in a way none of your brothers were. What if he received the same training the Scarpia kids had since birth? He would already be at a much higher level.

Luffy was definitely not a normal kid… and you could see that he would not grow to become a normal adult.

The King of the Pirates?

What would your parents do if you married the King of the Pirates?

Gold Roger was a force to be reckoned with. He was feared worldwide, even after his death. Your grandfather told you once about his brief encounter with him… of how incredibly powerful he was. Powerful enough to impress Scarpia Virgus – and that was a lot.

Luffy at that level?

Luffy, the King of the Pirates?

...That could work.

Yeah. Yeah, that could work.

You put your backpack on your lap and shoved your hand there in search of something.

“We’re gonna have to make some rules, then.”

“Booooring.” He groaned.

“Shut up!” You took your sketchbook and a pen. “First of all. No babies!”

“Why would I wanna have a baby?”

“Second. I’m not gonna cook or clean!”

“I’ll have a cook on my ship anyway.”

“Third. I’m not gonna be locked up in the same place all the time! I’ll get to do whatever I want, go wherever I want, talk when I want, scream at whoever I want!”

“Duuuh. We’re gonna live on a ship! At the sea! You can’t be in the same place like that. Also, huh, I don’t care what you do. Why would I care?”

You scribbled these rules on the paper rapidly.

“What are you doing?”

“A contract. Father taught me to never trust anything until it’s on paper.”

“Booooring.”

“Shut up.” You signed your full real name at the end of the page. “Now… you sign here.”

Luffy quirked one eyebrow and scribbled a signature… his caligraphy was so bad that you could barely understand it. He just signed Luffy.

You laid the sketchbook over your lap.

“Now we have a deal!”

Sunrays touched Luffy’s olive skin, made his gremlin smile shine. He put his hat back on his head and offered you his hand.

“We have a promise!”

Yep, Luffy was very full of himself… but in a world of uneasiness, having someone being certain about anything was comforting.

For the first time in nine weeks, you weren’t on autopilot. For the first time in nine weeks, you didn’t feel crushing sadness.

For the first time in nine weeks, you smiled.

It was as if the sun finally shone through dark storm clouds. As if you could see light in the darkness again, warmth instead of cold.

He brought that with him.

You shook Luffy’s hand tightly.

The promise was made.

[kimvvantae]

Intertwined; 2

⤕ Luffy and you were like two sides of the same coin: opposites in every way, but similar in what mattered the most. Tied by a vow made with the purity of a child's heart, life keeps trying to tear you apart - but the vow that intertwined your destinies would not be broken so easily. Or, Luffy promised to marry you someday when you were kids. This is how he keeps his promise.

pairing: monkey d. luffy x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, toxic family relationships, death/grief, when i say slow burn i mean it

rating: 18+

word count: 7k

A/N: HELLO YALL 💋 I can't stress enough how excited I am about this fic - and it's only beginning. Thank everyone that left comments on the first chapter!! I still have to make a proper playlist for this fic BUT a little song rec - I listened to Stay With Me from Miki Matsubara while writing this chapter!! kinda cliche but it makes me feel nostalgic and those are the correct vibes for this one. 🤓 Enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

➛ 9

One year, zero failures.

Twenty five commissions. Millions of berries in profit to the Scarpia safes.

And finally – five days of freedom.

In the Scarpia family, you couldn’t ask for things. You negotiated. Everything was transactional; that was the soul of the business. To get something, you must give something in return. Different things had different prices.

The cost of your little unsupervised vacation was absolute and obedient hard work. No more running away, no more slacking off, no complaining… instead, improving in every area that mattered to be a better assassin. You took commissions, excelled in training and tests, attended Landon’s classes without fail.

All so you could get what you wanted on your birthday.

It wasn’t an expensive request, but you knew that it costed much more than anything your brothers ever asked for – much more than Urso’s cannon that was exclusive to Marine warships, Saqr’s golden armor armor or Crowley’s actual warship with a full crew. Five days of being away, not being followed by anyone from the family, no questions asked? That was a lot. And so, the price to pay for that was high.

But you payed anyway. Payed splendidly. So your father had to honor the deal.

And finally, after a year, there you were climbing Mt. Colubo again.

You were excitedly making your way up the hill – running, to be honest. It wasn’t hard to remember the specific hill you agreed to meet; you had an awfully good memory for some reason. Your heart beat faster with each step in both excitement and worry. What if he forgot about you? What if he missed the date? You didn’t know where Luffy lived, so you wouldn’t know where to meet him – and it’d take days to scoop the area after him.

What if he simply didn’t care?

The thought made you nauseous.

Well, if he didn’t show up, you still had a mountain to explore and money to rent a room in the city–

The wind brought an unknown voice to your ears.

Your instincts jumped, took control of your body. You immediately hid behind a bush, crouching down, and waited.

“...tired of this!” A young male voice. A boy’s voice. “We’ve been waiting since morning! I swear, if you’re trying to prank me, I’ll kick you off that cliff...”

Then, another boy’s voice – and your eyes immediately widened. You knew that high pitched whine.

“It’s not a prank, Ace! I said I’d be waiting right here, I can’t leave!”

“Yeah, right. Waiting for your imaginary friend.”

“I’m not imagining anything!” An uneasy groan. “Though maybe I missed the date… has it really been a year? She is taking too long…”

“Tsk. I’m sick of this. I’m heading back…”

“No! Wait!”

You got up and sprinted up the hill.

“Luffy!” Your voice cracked a bit while screaming his name… still not used to screaming. One hand kept gripping the strap of the backpack while the other waved excitedly.

And there he was.

The stretchy boy hadn’t changed a thing. Same hair, same height, same scar under his left eye, a bandaid on a different place this time – his forehead –, same battered up straw hat that was still too big for his head, jeans shorts and a blue tank top…

And same grin, big big grin, that appeared as soon as he spotted you… except he was missing his front tooth now.

“Wolfie!” He yelled. Who the hell–? Oh, right. That’s the name I made up. “You came!”

You had almost reached them when Luffy decided to engulf you in a hug.

...You were also not used to hugs and sudden proximity. The part of you that had been sharpened like a blade had the instinct to crush his trachea with the side of your hand. No no no, these are my five days of vacation. No business thinking! You made the conscious effort to push that part away, to lock it in a dark vault inside of your brain, a vault with a very complicated password. No bloodthirst. No kill intent.

So you just hugged him back instead and giggled excitedly.

Luffy then stepped away and grinned mischievously at that other boy.

He stepped behind you and put both hands over your shoulders as if presenting you like an item. “See? You seeing this? Is this imaginary? Call me a liar again, come on! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, I dare you!”

You scanned each other in silence.

This guy was definitely a few years older than Luffy and you. His black wavy hair fell over his forehead, his tanned skin was peppered with freckles. Like Luffy, his brown eyes were so dark that they almost looked black. He wore shorts, an orange tank top, elbow pads, and held a steel pipe… what was that for?

He was much, much more judgmental than Luffy.

And apparently smarter, too.

Luffy walked to your side.

“This one’s my big brother Ace!” He presented.

You were immediately taken aback. Of course, you remembered how Luffy kept talking about someone called Ace. But you didn’t expect him to be a brother.

Just because your brothers are awful, doesn’t mean everybody’s are, too.

You managed to open a tight smile.

“My name’s Wolfie. Nice to meet you.”

Ace crossed his arms and measured you from head to toe – and you had to fight the urge to immediately despise him, because that look was familiar. Stop that. You don’t even know him yet. It’s your vacation! Time to have fun!

Luffy tapped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “Ace here kept saying I made you up, can you believe that?”

Ace side eyed Luffy with a frown. “You can’t blame me. The whole story sounded suspicious.” He focused on you again and tilted his head to the side. “The hell are you from?”

He carefully analyzed your outfit and backpack. Your clothes weren’t exactly fancy: you wore the standard Scarpia children “uniform”, which was basically a white button shirt, a black pleated skirt and the black blazer with the red scorpion on it (you had quickly gotten rid of that family crest from your clothes, however). You brothers, much obviously, wore pants instead of the skirt, but other than that, it was all the same.

You would have picked something different if you weren’t in such a hurry to get to the Dawn Island as fast as possible. Luckily, the last commission was already at some insignificant island of the East Blue – you picked it on purpose -, but the travel still took a days time. You still had to wait until the clock hit midnight to hop on a ship and head to the island (you couldn’t risk making your way with Landon nearby).

But anyway – your whole appearance was very obviously of a foreigner. A well lived foreigner. You couldn’t lie to two locals that you were from High Town, and you had already told Luffy you lived far.

Luckily, you had everything planned.

“Loguetown,” you announced. Ace seemed a bit surprised for some reason.

Big fat lie, obviously.

You’d been to Loguetown once or twice. It wasn’t that interesting of a place despite the mystique around it. Regardless, it was still a pretty big city and an acceptable answer: far, but not too far. Not too suspicious.

Ace quirked one eyebrow up. “...That’s far. What brings you to Mt. Colubo of all places?”

You shrugged. “My father visits the Goa Kingdom once a year because of his business and I like to come along.”

“You like to climb a mountain on your own.”

“I like animals and insects. I catalog them.”

“She draws pretty well. I mean, not better than me, but–“

“The mountain with the giant dangerous animals.” Ace cut Luffy off without taking his eyes off you.

“Yeah, that’s why this place is interesting.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s the problem with that?”

“The problem is that this doesn’t make any sense.”

“What? You think a girl can’t take care of herself?”

“That’s not what I mean–“

“How are you alive? Luffy ate a Devil Fruit, so I get it, but how about you?”

Luffy looked between you and Ace like a ping pong ball coming and going.

And Ace looked very offended.

“What–?! I’m a hundred times stronger than Luffy!”

“Hey!”

“Don’t change the subject!” Ace once again ignored Luffy and pointed his finger at you. “I don’t know how a rich brat like you is even alive in here!”

You let an annoyed groan past your lips and tightened your fists. What an insufferable guy!

But then, you narrowed your eyes and refrained from arguing more. I didn’t come here to argue with anyone. I came here to play with Luffy.

A smug smirk grew on your lips. You held both straps of the backpack and took a small step back.

Then – you sprinted.

It made the wind howl, the trees sway. You had time to hear a satisfying gasp from both of them, but especially from the oh-so-annoying Ace.

In the blink of an eye, you were standing on the lower branch of a tree nearby.

“This is how.” You announced to a shocked Ace while smiling.

Luffy laughed.

He hopped excitedly and shook his arms. “I told you, see?! I told you, I told you!” The straw hat boy then looked at you with a defiant grin and fire in his eyes. “I said I’d be even faster this time!”

“Then prove it!” Now you were the one hopping excitedly. “You’re it!”

Luffy laughed and launched his weird stretched arm in your direction. You deflected him and jumped to another tree.

Ace stood there, still a bit shocked, and watched as you and Luffy chased each other through the trees. Both of you were noisy. Both of you disturbed the small animals like birds and squirrels, made branches shake violently, making a rain of leaves fall over his head. He heard a succession of tag! You’re it! before you said it one last time.

And then he spotted Luffy smiling devilishly at him like a gremlin.

“Are you just gonna stand there?!”

Ace took a step back and sent him a warning glare.

“Luffy, don’t you dare–”

Smack.

“You’re it!”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

Straw hat boy just laughed.

There were three kids disturbing the small fauna now.

“Have you ever eaten crocodile meat?” Luffy asked.

You shook your head. “Not that I remember.”

He smiled. “It’s soooo good. You’re gonna love it. Uh, now I’m hungry…”

“When are you not hungry, Luffy?” Ace side eyed you. “I’m surprised you didn’t want to hunt with us… since you’re soooooo good at everything.”

You shrugged.

Yes. It’s true that you decided to just stand near the river and watch them hunt the crocodile. Not because you couldn’t help them, but because it felt… wrong.

The crocodile was huge. Two times bigger than a cow, maybe. It was now wrapped in ropes as the two boys carried it above their heads towards their home. You’d never seen a crocodile this big, and that’s why you hesitated. Were there even that many crocodiles around?

“I feel bad for it.” You admitted quietly.

The two boys looked at you like you were insane.

“What? You don’t eat meat?!” Luffy seemed flabbergasted.

“I bet you don’t feel bad about cows or chickens,” Ace was much more defensive.

You just sighed and crossed your arms. “That’s not what I mean… whatever. Yes, I do eat meat.” You looked up at the huge animal for a few seconds. “Can I at least sketch it before you cook it?”

“Why would you wanna do that?”

“I already said that I catalog animals.”

“Weirdo.”

You wanted to punch Ace.

“Hey, hey, Wolfie, what’s your favorite food?” Luffy asked.

You held your chin and looked up. “Hmm… crab legs. I think.” Luffy hummed in response. “Or spicy noodles.” He hummed again. “Anything spicy, to be honest.”

It wasn’t without a reason. Your mother was a poison specialist. She made you and your brothers take small dosages of different types of poison not only to be able to recognize it, but to resist it. Turns out one of her poisons burned your taste buds and food became tasteless for months – until you ate a very very spicy pepper from Dressrosa and went oh, I can actually feel the taste of this. Your taste buds had healed, but your liking for spicy food stayed.

You weren’t going to tell them that, though.

“Never seen a girl that likes pepper,” Ace quirked his eyebrow up, clearly questioning you.

“You don’t know that many girls, do you?”

Ace blushed for some reason, but still looked annoyed. “Listen here, you brat–!”

He was interrupted by a growl.

You thought it was a savage animal nearby at first, but the sound was coming from too close…

It was Luffy’s rumbling belly.

“Ugh… I want to eat…” He tilted his head to the side as if he was suffering. “Crab legs… noodles… pepper…”

“You can’t take spicy food, Luffy,” Ace murmured.

“Yes, I can!”

They started arguing and you just watched in silence.

It was… interesting.

They bantered a lot. They punched each other and argued over silly things. Ace usually won most of the fights and arguments. However… you didn’t see genuine anger in his eyes not even once. You didn’t hear genuine insults meant to hurt. It was all silly, superficial – and they always got over it two minutes after it happened.

You wondered if that’s how siblings usually acted.

No. Don’t think of Urso or Crowley or Saqr… that’s not what you came here for.

So you looked ahead and spotted something, which caused you to stop on your tracks.

“Oh!” That caught their attention. “You guys have a tree house?”

It was well hidden in between the branches, but there was definitely a tree house some meters away at the top of an especially tall tree. The wooden structure looked a bit precarious and perhaps even abandoned, yet it immediately picked your interest.

“Did you guys build it?”

Luffy blinked and looked uneasy for some reason. “Huh…”

“It looks pretty cool!” An excited smile appeared on your lips. You gripped the straps of the backpack, ready to run. “I want to see it!”

“Wait, Wolfie–“ Luffy tried to warn you. Which was weird, because Luffy never tried to warn you about anything, so at that moment, you didn’t pay attention to him.

You were running towards the tree.

That’s when Ace yelled “No!”

The ground shook when he dropped the heavy crocodile. In the blink of an eye, Ace was towering in front of you, both of his arms extended to block your passage.

You froze on your tracks.

He… he looked angry.

“You’re not allowed to go there!”

His stance and his voice would’ve triggered normal you’s aggression. But that part of you was locked inside the vault – so all you did was widen your eyes at him.

“But it’s just a tree house,” you tried. That made him angrier for some reason.

“Do not get anywhere near that place!”

Luffy stepped closer, frowning. “Hey, Ace, you don’t need to get so angry–“

Ace turned his attention to him. “If you take her there, I will never talk to you again! Got it?!”

Luffy himself was surprised.

The oldest boy sent a last menacing gaze towards you before taking the crocodile on his own and marching ahead.

You just stood there, too shocked to say anything, for long seconds. Luffy sent you an apologetic look; it seems he didn’t know what to do, either.

...All older brothers are assholes, I guess.

Meeting Luffy’s “family” made you understand him (and Ace) much more.

Their house was deep inside the forest, in the middle of a large clearing. It was a big one-story house with a lookout, though it looked precarious. Many voices came from inside it.

The two boys announced that they had brought dinner. A couple of men wearing white turbans came from inside the house to check it. None of them seemed impressed that the kids killed a monster crocodile, which could only mean that wasn’t unusual. You stood there awkwardly for a while. No one seemed bothered by your presence.

That is, until a big ginger woman came out of the house.

Her hair was long and curly. She wore a white blouse, checkered green pants, a necklace made of red round beads and boots. She had two cigarettes (?) between her lips and the ferocious eyes that could only belong to a leader.

The woman immediately started scolding Luffy and Ace with why’d you take so long?! or which of you used all the sugar?! and your clothes are stinky, you better wash it before tomorrow! and you have to clean all the mess you made! and don’t you dare talk back like that, brat! and I will kick your ass if you don’t watch that tone! and then she finally laid her eyes on you.

She blinked.

You blinked.

“Hi.” You sent her a small wave. “My name is–

“LUFFY AND ACE KIDNAPPED A CITY GIRL!!”

It was like everyone finally noticed your presence at that moment.

The men gasped and gathered around you. The ginger woman fumed like a chimney – and suddenly everything became noisy noisy noisy, with everyone showing different levels of outrage.

“What a horrible thing to do-nii!” Said a short guy wearing a pink polka dotted overall who seemed to be already panicking.

“You guys really crossed the line this time!” Said another tall guy with a brown mustache and a weird wattle on the top of his head, looking at Ace and Luffy disapprovingly.

The woman grabbed the two buys by their collars and lifted them from the ground like they weighed nothing.

“You little psychopaths! This girl’s from High Town, ain’t she?! Why’d you bring her here?! You wanna get us all killed?!”

“What are you–“ Ace grunted, grabbing her wrist. “Talking about, crazy old woman?!”

“We didn’t kidnap anyone!” Luffy screamed. “She’s Wolfie and she’s my friend!”

“Friend?! Don’t make me laugh! Why would a little girl get into the woods like that–“

“Miss.”

She finally stopped to look down when you touched her arm softly.

“They’re not lying. I’m on vacation and came to visit Luffy.”

Silence.

She quirked her eyebrow at you with distrust.

“Where’re your parents?”

“In the city.”

“Where will you stay? It’s almost sundown, there’s not enough time to reach the city before night comes.”

You slipped the backpack to only one shoulder and shoved your hand inside the small pocket.

“I was wondering if I could stay here for two or three days…” You finally showed her what you were looking for – and earned a collective gasp. “...If you don’t mind, of course.”

A wad of cash.

She put the two boys down slowly.

The woman took it from your much smaller hand and removed the rubber band, counting the berries rapidly.

She then looked at you again – and for a moment, it looked like it’d take some more convincing–

But she grinned.

“Of course, darling!” She crouched down to come closer to your eye level – and all of sudden, the aggressiveness and distrust and even the wrinkle between her eyebrows were gone. She was all smiles and blushes and it was like flowers were floating around her head. Even her voice became sweet like honey. “Of course, why wouldn’t we take such a cutie in?! My name’s Dadan. We’ll take care of whatever you need!”

And then all the other grown men were smiling sweetly and blushing too, and the flowers multiplied. You heard I’ll prepare you a bedroom! and I’ll cook you a great dinner! and I can make you cute dresses– wait, why do you know how to make dresses?!

Such a drastic change.

Well. One thing you knew from the world of the adults is that there were just a few things money couldn’t buy.

Ace side eyed you with a frown. Luffy didn’t seem to mind and didn’t seem upset at Dadan despite what she just did.

“Hey, hey, Wolfie–“ He tapped your arm many times. “There are a loooot of beetles around here! And scorpions too! And–“

“Didn’t you said you wanted to draw the crocodile or whatever?” Ace interrupted with somewhat of a pout. “You better do it now before we skin it. I don’t wanna have dinner late because of you.” The older boy walked away with his hands inside the front pockets of his shorts.

“Right.” You nodded. Luffy’s shoulders dropped.

“You’re gonna sit down and draw now? That’s boring! I wanna play!”

“It won’t take that long this time,” you explained while searching for the sketchbook inside of your backpack. Luffy pouted.

You sat down on the grass and quickly started sketching the crocodile’s head from the side. You’d have to check on your Reptile Encyclopedia if this species was already cataloged… you hadn’t brought that book with you – it was way too heavy – and that’s why taking as many details as possible was necessary, so you could compare the drawing with the book images back home.

Meanwhile, everything was noisy behind you.

Luffy, Ace, Dadan, the other guys… they all made a lot of noise. A lot of insults and arguments… but a lot of laughter, too. All that noise wasn’t bothersome. In fact, it was much more comfortable than the mortifying silence that always hovered inside the Scarpia mansion.

You finished the sketch quickly and left everything aside to play with Luffy – and from there, time seemed to run. You played catch and played with a ball and played with a white dog that lived there. You rolled on the grass and jumped rope and played on a tire swing until it made Luffy feel nauseous. You raced too many times to keep count and taught Luffy each different species of bugs you saw inside the forest (though he didn’t remember anything a second after you finished speaking). And then suddenly your clothes were dirty and you were tired but you didn’t mind at all, because that tiredness didn’t hurt.

Finally it was time to have dinner – and the amount of food they cooked was a bit absurd, but everything smelled great. Everyone gathered to eat after bathing and changing clothes. Luffy was quite literally drooling.

“Let the guest eat first, brat!” Dadan reprimanded Luffy with a punch in his head when he tried to grab a piece of meat. You quickly filled your plate with rice, meat and a bit of salad before someone else could complain.

“That’s not fair,” Ace whined with a frown. “Why don’t we get this type of treatment? You never make this many side dishes.”

Dadan glared at him with fire in her eyes. “Because you’re not full of mone– I-I mean, because you’re not a cute, polite girl! Work on your manners first before you get special treatment!”

They started arguing.

You ate from your plate in peace. Luffy filled plate after plate after plate and for a moment you wondered if that giant crocodile was enough to satisfy him. There was a lot of noise, still. They talked loud. Yet, in your silence, you could still see that same thing from before. They argued and cussed at each other, but you couldn’t hear genuine anger or contempt or the will to hurt. Even Dadan who seemed the harshest of them all had that underlying care in her gaze, though you doubted Luffy or Ace could see it too.

Everything made your heart feel surprisingly at ease.

And made you feel something else too – but it was small and irritating, so you decided to brush it off.

“Hey, Ace, you’re losing to Luffy on something, huh?” That guy with a mustache – was his name Magura? – said at some point. He had a suspicious smile and light blush over his cheeks.

Both boys stopped eating for a second and went Huh?

Magura blinked prettily.

“Your younger brother got a girlfriend first than you. You better work on that!”

A room full of grown men giggled. Ace blushed furiously and started cussing.

You and Luffy looked at each other at the same time.

He blinked.

You blinked.

You both scowled like you’d eaten a very sour lemon.

“EEEW!!”

“Where are we going now?” You asked as soon as you stepped out of the house.

The morning smelled like dew, sap and damp soil. There were no clouds to cover the bluest sky you’d ever seen. Multiple birds chirped their melody, and you felt tempted to try to recognize the different species, but you wouldn’t have time.

Luffy had invited you to go somewhere.

“You said it was a party?”

The straw hat boy grinned. “Yeah! A birthday party for the Mayor! Makino throws a party for him every year. She bakes cake and a bunch of sweets!”

You followed him shortly, starting to feel a little excited. That was when you spotted Ace leaning on a tree nearby with his arms crossed. He looked… upset.

Luffy seemed to hesitate for a second.

“I’m going down to Foosha now, Ace!” He announced.

The other boy just shrugged in response.

That was… weird.

Luffy started to run, so you quickened your pace to catch up to him. His hat flew from his head and swayed with the wind while trapped by that thin rope around his neck. Soon, the house and the clearing were left behind.

“We can get to Foosha Village quicker using this trail,” Luffy explained. You nodded and kept silent for some moments while he yapped about cake flavors.

But your curiosity got the best of you.

“Luffy.”

“Hm?”

“Why isn’t Ace coming with us?” Luffy visibly stiffened. “Is he that angry at me?”

The straw hat boy coughed as if he had choked on something.

“He… huh… h-he’s not angry at you!”

“Why isn’t he coming, then?”

“Huh… hmmm…”

You watched very closely as sweat dripped down his forehead, his cheeks got flushed, his eyes very consciously averted from yours, a pout formed on his lips.

He almost looked constipated.

“H-He… he said he’s not a kid anymore to attend birthday parties!” Luffy looked extremely proud of himself for coming up with this answer. “Boring guy, isn’t he? Anyway, I bet you can’t get to that tree faster than me! Three-two-one-go!!”

He sprinted down the trail before you could get ready, making a cloud of dust on his way. You narrowed your eyes slowly.

That morning, you learned that Luffy was a terrible liar.

Foosha Village was about what you already expected – small with not much interesting going on. Not many houses, not many establishments, not that many people. The village port was small with only a few ships docked. The sea that surrounded Dawn Island was of a gorgeous blue, so calm that it could be mistaken by the waters of the Calm Belt.

Partys Bar faced this beautiful scenery.

Luffy stormed in unceremoniously and ran to the arms of a young woman of dark green hair – was that the Makino he talked about?

“Luffy!” She said sweetly while embracing him. “You came early!”

“The earlier we get, the more food we eat!” He giggled before leaning away.

Her eyes quickly found you. “And who is this little princess right here?”

Your cheeks got warm.

What did she just call me?!

“A friend of mine!” Luffy presented. “I brought her to eat cake!”

Makino chuckled. “Well, you two will have to wait, then. The cake’s still baking and I haven’t finished the decorations yet. Care to help me with this?”

You certainly didn’t care.

Makino brought an old box with decorations: ribbons, balloons, confetti and more. You sat on the bar stool and busied yourself with filling the balloons while her and Luffy glued the colorful tapes and little flags around the bar walls. His Devil Fruit ability came in handy in situations like this.

It was weird, this feeling you had. Unusual. The sound of the waves crashing not far from there. Trees swaying with the oceanic breeze. Chatter coming from the street. Luffy’s laughter and Makino’s sweet voice.

It was peaceful.

So peaceful that you felt your shoulders relaxing. For the first time, the “sonar” within you that kept constantly looking for potential danger was down. Yes, you knew that was wrong; it was against everything you’d ever learned. Never let your guard down.

But Landon wasn’t there. Nor your father or your mother. Crowley wasn’t hiding somewhere with a knife waiting for an opportunity to stab you. Saqr and his hound dogs weren’t anywhere near. Urso wouldn’t try to squeeze you to death… and you weren’t completing a commission, either.

You never thought you’d like to keep that part of you inside the vault, but turns out your life became pretty quiet when it happened.

Some kids entered the bar at some point. You couldn’t tell if Luffy already knew them, but they talked excitedly. Soon, they were outside on the street, playing.

You wondered for a second if you should join them, but Makino approached.

“That’s enough balloons, thank you.” She smiled softly. “Care to help me with something else?”

She guided you behind the counter into the kitchen. The place was filled with a delicious sweet smell of the cake baking inside the oven. Other than that, there were plenty of other snacks over the table at the center: some of them were obviously sweets, some looked deep fried.

“I couldn’t finish rolling the brigadeiros. The Mayor always asks for them,” she explained while walking towards the counter where a pan rested. “If I asked Luffy to come, he’d eat everything instead of helping.”

“He would.” You nodded and frowned slightly. “But… what’s a brigadeiro?”

Makino quirked an eyebrow. “You’re not from here, are you? If you don’t know what a brigadeiro is.”

Well. You couldn’t tell if you didn’t know what that was because you weren’t from the area of because you’d never been to a birthday party before – a normal one, at least. Maybe people ate this brigadeiro thing on the Grand Line, too. Who knows?

You repeated your lie, but decided to leave the Loguetown name behind. Perhaps Makino knew that it was also a common snack at that city, which would raise more questions.

After washing your hands, she proceeded to explain what to do.

“First, you have to coat your palms with butter so it slides easily… then, you take a bit of the chocolate dough from the pan with the spoon. It doesn’t need to be much. And then… you just roll it with your hands… until it becomes a little ball. This size is okay. See? Now you just dip it in the chocolate sprinkles and it’s done.”

It wasn’t a difficult task – and Makino was kind enough to let you eat some. After you picked up the pace, she let you do it on your own and went to take care of something else in the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but take glances at her from time to time.

Makino was delicate. The scarf wrapped around her hair matched with her long skirt; the thin pearl necklace also matched with her pearl earrings. She was agile in everything she did and sweet with her words. And that was also unusual.

Your mother – the only female reference you had – was the complete opposite of Makino. She was older, of course, but the differences didn’t stop there. Your mother was beautiful, too, and extremely elegant. But she was also cold. Distant. Black instead of colorful. Reprimands instead of compliments. Makino smelled of candy; Scilla Scarpia smelled of poison.

That made you feel a bit sad for some reason.

“What?” She asked at some point, and you realized you had been staring for some time. You stiffened.

“...Your earrings are very pretty, miss.”

Makino opened a wide smile and approached. “Do you want them?”

“W-What?”

“I have many earrings… these would look cute on you.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned closer. “Oh! How come you don’t have your ears pierced?”

You didn’t. You also weren’t used to wearing necklaces or bracelets or hair clips… nothing flashy or colorful. Your face was almost always hidden behind a white wolf mask anyway, so why worry about your appearance?

“I can pierce your ears later,” Makino offered. “But it hurts a little bit. Do you want it?”

At the same time… why not worry about your appearance?

A sudden smile and unexpected excitement bubbled within your chest. “Yes!”

The bar was packed a few hours later.

There were mostly kids. Conversation and laughter filled the air. Your ears stung a little bit, but you didn’t mind; you were too busy playing. Makino decided that it was time to congratulate the Mayor, so everyone gathered around a table to celebrate.

The Mayor himself – a short guy wearing a bucket hat, glasses and a colorful shirt – came to stand in front of the cake. After lighting the candles, they all clapped and sang happy birthday to you.

You looked around while everyone was too focused on the birthday man.

So many smiles. So much excitement and care. Little flags on the ceiling, colorful ribbons, balloons, a big Happy Birthday sign on the wall behind the Mayor. Everybody in that room knew him, all of them took their time to come to the bar and celebrate. Was he feeling appreciated? Was he happy and grateful?

His smile told you that he was.

Yesterday was your birthday, you remembered.

No one in the bar knew. Not even Luffy. You wouldn’t try to tell him and steal the moment. So, while you clapped and sang along, you silently pretended that it was all for you. It was silly and inappropriate, but you did it anyway. You pretended for a little over a minute that your birthday was filled with sweets and cakes and kids around your age to play with and music and laughter.

When the Mayor blew the candles, you silently wished it would be you in that place someday.

The moment was over soon. Slices of cake were distributed. Chocolate cake with strawberries. It tasted amazing. Makino had to stand near the cake to prevent Luffy from eating everything by himself.

The kids went out to play again. You followed, leaving this small moment of sorrow behind.

“Hurry up, you two. I don’t want to see you climbing up that mountain in the dark.” There were still a few hours left until sunset, but Makino was right. You had eaten more than what your stomach could take and tired your legs from running around so much.

Makino handed you a picnic basket: it had slices of cake, brigadeiros, coxinhas (which was something else you had never eaten before – a crispy fried snack in a teardrop shape filled with shredded chicken) and sandwiches. “These are for Ace and the others. I’m glad you’re here to carry it, because Luffy would end up eating everything on the way if I gave it to him.”

“Hey!”

She giggled and leaned down to hug Luffy. When Makino leaned away, she lowered her voice, but you could still hear very well when she said: “Tell Ace I’ll go see him tomorrow, okay?”

She then approached and hugged you. “Don’t forget to clean your ears with alcohol everyday.” Makino touched the pearl earrings softly and smiled. “You do look very cute with them!”

Your cheeks felt hot again. For whatever reason.

After waving your goodbyes, there you were making your way into the forest.

Luffy didn’t feel like running, which was a bit of a miracle. Even him could get tired… and you were thankful, because like that, he couldn’t run away from you.

You waited until you were out of the village to start.

“Luffy.”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t Ace come?”

He stiffened again.

“Y-You already asked that, didn’t you? And I already answered.”

“I don’t buy it. There must be another reason.” You approached him until your shoulders bumped. “Come ooooon. I won’t tell anyone.”

Luffy made that weird constipated face again and crossed his arms. “I… huh… I don’t know! I have no idea! Hah!”

“I’m great at keeping secrets! You can trust me!”

“Seriously, I don’t know anything!” But he was sweating again and avoiding your gaze so much that his eyeballs were almost rolling inside his skull, so it meant it was time to play dirty.

You shoved your hand inside the basket and put a coxinha in front of his face.

His eyes widened.

“I’ll give it to you if you tell me.”

Luffy gasped.

He froze, his fingers trembled, his mouth drooled. It looked like he was facing the biggest challenge of his life. The coxinha smelled amazing. It was still warm and shining golden in its crispy fried glory.

For a second, it looked like he was raising his hands to grab it – and you were ready to sing victory.

But Luffy tapped his foot on the ground and whipped his head to the side aggressively.

“No!”

It was your turn to gasp.

Was it so serious that Luffy couldn’t even be bribed with food to tell the truth? That was surprising.

Admitting defeat, you put the snack inside the basket again and went back to walking. “Okay, then.”

You heard Luffy whine behind you and the tap tap of his sandals fast approaching again. “But we could eat one of them, right? They would never know.”

“You can’t eat just one. You’ll want the whole thing.”

“Nooo, I’m serious!” He brought both hands close to his face in a praying position and looked at you with round, begging eyes. “Just one? Please? Please? Please?”

You hesitated before admitting defeat for the second time that day.

“Just one.” Luffy giggled excitedly. “Eat slowly ‘cause it’s really gonna be the only one!”

He took one. You took one.

You chewed in silence.

This coxinha was another secret you’d have to keep. Another lie.

Luffy was a terrible liar. It looked like he couldn’t lie to save his life. Meanwhile, lying to you was easy… it was part of the job – sometimes you’d have to go undercover, and to get info on a target, you’d have to lie your way in. You were also used to lying to avoid punishments. It wasn’t hard to come up with something on the spot. Believable lies, sometimes only twisting the truth a bit to get what you wanted.

You lied to everybody here. All of these kind people that had been nothing but honest to you. All of these people calling you by a name that wasn’t truly yours. Wolfie this, Wolfie that… but Wolfie didn’t exist.

No one should see your face. No one should know your name.

But would you ever be able to make a real friend behind this mask of lies?

You wanted Luffy to be a real friend.

So you swallowed and gathered some courage.

“Luffy.”

“Hmm?” His mouth was full.

“I have a secret to tell you.” He seemed mildly interested. “‘Wolfie’ is not my name.”

You gave him your real name quietly – almost as if there was a possibility of someone else hearing it nearby. You decided to leave your last name behind. That would be too risky.

Luffy repeated your name. You nodded. He quirked an eyebrow. “So what?”

“I’m not from Loguetown. I’m not even from the East Blue.”

Luffy narrowed his eyes slowly, finally fully interested. “And why’d you lie?”

You pressed your lips and debated for a second if this was the right thing to do… but Landon wasn’t here, or anyone from your family, and the only thing with ears nearby was a squirrel and a couple of birds.

So you continued.

“I’m an assassin.”

You held your breath and waited for Luffy’s reaction.

He could laugh at your face and say you were lying. He could scowl and run away in fear. He could push you down the hill and tell you to never get near his family again.

But Luffy did what you least expected.

...He didn’t react.

At all.

He just kept chewing the coxinha as if you told him what you’re having for dinner.

“Why are you an assassin?” He asked.

“It’s the family business.”

“So your parents are, too?”

“Yeah.”

“And why do they do that?”

“For the money.” You shrugged.

“Hmmm.” He finished eating and rested both hands behind his head. “That’s why you’re rich.”

“Yeah.”

Luffy then frowned as if remembering something.

“Wait. Why’d you feel bad for the crocodile, then?”

That was an interesting question. “...I like animals. They’re irrational. And cute.”

“You think a monster crocodile is cute?”

“Uh-Huh.”

“Weirdo.” He was pretty much imitating what Ace said earlier, but you didn’t mind. “So. Do you like to kill people?”

That was another interesting question. No one had ever asked you that. You hummed and held your chin.

“I don’t like it. But I don’t mind it either. It’s just... work.”

“Sounds pretty boring.”

Your shoulders dropped. “It is boring.”

“So that’s why you’re here?”

He caught things pretty quickly. You nodded, an annoyed knot appearing between your eyebrows. “They don’t let me play. They don’t let me do anything! It’s just work work work, it’s just you have to honor the family or whatever.” Your voice sounded more whiny and bitter at each word. “They never even asked me if I wanted to be part of the business. Not that they have ever asked my opinion on anything.”

Luffy hummed again – but there was something a bit strange about his voice now.

His hat had dropped a bit, casting a shadow over his eyes.

“...You’re like Sabo.” Luffy’s voice was… strangely quiet. You’d never seen him speaking quietly before.

You tilted your head.

“Who’s Sabo?”

“My brother.”

“Really?” Luffy had another brother? You didn’t hear anyone mention that name. “Where is he?”

Luffy dropped his arms from behind his head.

“He… he died.”

That took you by surprise.

“Oh.”

Silence.

You’re like Sabo, Luffy said.

For some reason, you remembered Ace’s aggressiveness towards you… how he didn’t want to let you in that old tree house...

And something clicked.

Did you remind Ace of this dead brother? Was he somehow jealous of your presence… as if you could perhaps assume that empty spot?

You scratched your head and frowned. That didn’t make any sense since, well, you had enough brothers and you hated all of them. Why’d you want to have any more brothers? That’s not what you came here for. Ace was a few years older than you, but if your suspicions were right, then he was nothing but delusional and childish.

Luffy made a strange noise, which brought your attention to him again.

You leaned to see his face under the hat.

“...You crying?”

“I’m not!”

But his face was wet with tears and his cheeks were flushed and he had the biggest pout and he rushed to clean his nose with the collar of his shirt. Oh no, he’s actually crying, even though he was clearly trying to hold it in. What do I do?!

You weren’t one to cry. You didn’t even remember the last time you did. Wait, have you ever cried at all? Have you ever seen anyone in the family cry? Huh… no, I don’t think so. Never felt anything deserving of shedding tears, I guess.

“Stop staring at me!”

“Sorry!” You leaned away and crossed your arms. “It’s just that this is, huh, unusual.”

Luffy sniffed and frowned. “What do you mean unusual?”

You scratched your own cheek awkwardly. “Well. If any of my brothers died, I’d throw a party to celebrate.”

Luffy stiffened for a second – and you worried that you had worsened the situation.

But then he laughed.

He sniffed again and cleaned his face with his forearm. The tears stopped! Great! “You really are a weirdo. Is your family that bad?”

You scowled instinctively. “I don’t even wanna talk about them.”

“I don’t wanna talk about them, either. They sound boring.” Luffy sniffed again and side eyed you with a small pout. “Don’t tell Ace you saw me crying. He’ll smack me.”

“Okay.” It was your turn to point at him. “Don’t tell Ace my secret or I’ll smack you.”

“Right. Wolfie.” He used a funny tone to say that name while grinning, and it immediately made you smile too. Luffy was kind of slow, but he got the message. That name was forbidden, even though you decided to share it with him anyway.

Luffy knew the real you now – and he didn’t care.

“Can I get another one–?”

“No!” You took the basket out of his reach before he could sneakily stretch his arm to grab it. “I was serious! Just one!”

“But–“

“No!”

You brought the basket close to your chest and sprinted up the trail without looking back. Luffy’s laugh and the tap tap tap of his sandals quickly followed.

At that moment, while running from Luffy and getting deeper into the forest, while feeling the delicious smell of the food inside the basket and sap and damp soil, while listening to his giggles and the ones that erupted from your own chest, you got to a conclusion.

One year, zero failures – twenty five successful commissions, uncountable classes, uncountable boring hours of painful training… it was a fair price to pay for the happiness you could experience at that mountain, at that island, at this god forsaken corner of the world. No golden armor or cannon or warship could compare to that.

No money could buy that.

You were willing to do whatever it took to always keep this small island of peace intact.

[kimvvantae]

Intertwined; 1

⤕ Luffy and you were like two sides of the same coin: opposites in every way, but similar in what mattered the most. Tied by a vow made with the purity of a child's heart, life keeps trying to tear you apart - but the vow that intertwined your destinies would not be broken so easily. Or, Luffy promised to marry you someday when you were kids. This is how he keeps his promise.

pairing: monkey d. luffy x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, toxic family relationships, death/grief, when i say slow burn i mean it

rating: 18+

word count: 6k

A/N: I've had this fic in mind for ages but finally managed to squeeze the words out of my brain thanks to the encouragement of my followers 🥹 This fic is an attempt to write Luffy in love in the most beliavable/close to canon way possible. Let's hope I'll succeed :D - This is a afab!reader insert, so no physical traits will be described EXCEPT that I'm giving you reading glasses because Luffy needs to give you a silly nickname based on your appearance like he does to everybody. - If you like the fic, PLEASE interact with it so I can keep motivated to write the next parts 🥹 And per usual, English is not my first language. Enjoy!!

⤕  Masterlist: soon!  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

- PART 1 -

"A secret shared by us alone, a smile the wind would carry. In the yard, just you and I knew how the world was merry."

- Cecilia Meireles

➛ 8

Heavy rain fell over the Goa Kingdom the night you killed that man.

Alex Husquid was his name. A small nobleman, heir to the Husquid fortune and businesses. Born and raised at the Dawn Island, probably never left the East Blue and probably never would have wanted to, since his source of power and prestige was located here. Married to a woman called Frida. Father of three healthy boys, all around your age.

Just a common, law-abiding citizen in this god forsaken corner of the world.

But his successful whiskey business pissed someone bigger than him, which meant he had to die.

You didn’t know who your contractors were – you never did. They hid behind Den Den Mushis with voice distortion or faceless messengers. Discretion and secrecy was the soul of the business; that went both ways. The contractors didn’t know who you were either. Didn’t know your face, or your brothers’ faces, or your mother’s, or your father’s, or your grandfather’s…

No one should see the face of a Scarpia family member and live to tell the next day.

Your breathing echoed inside the mask made especially to hide your small face. Your grandfather threw the runes made of bones the day you were born, and the runes said that your animal – the one that would represent your soul the most – was the wolf. And so, your mask was the image of a wolf’s face. Eerily white, contrasting with the black raincoat you wore.

The wolf is an auspicious animal, your grandfather said. Lone. Smart. Ferocious. Good to business.

The entire family expected you to honor this mask that night.

It was your first trial – the first time an assassination was assigned to you, the first time you’d have to take a commission on your own. Up until then, you’d only assist your brothers or watch them work from far. But you were eight years old now, and that was the right age to be initiated. You had trained enough. You were ready.

Just a small commission. Alex Husquid was a nobleman, but not that noble. This little and humid archipelago in the East Blue was far from being important. Not a death that would cause a stir. It honestly even felt that your father was belittling your capabilities with this commission. Why were you assigned to kill a short ugly nobleman at the end of the world, while Crowley who was only one year older got commissioned with Marines or troublesome pirates in the New World?

Because I’m the girl, you thought with resigned anger.

Well. Whatever.

It’s not like you wanted to impress them anyway. This was boring. The travel to the East Blue was boring, this commission was boring, having to stare at Landon’s ugly mustache the entire travel was boring. The only good thing that came from this initiation is that it also happened to be your birthday. The only day in the year where you had permission to do whatever you wanted.

So you just had to get this over with.

Alex Husquid was alone in his office, scribbling something on his desk. You watched him intently from the roof of the nearest house. Heavy rain fell over your head, lightnings illuminated the night sky from time to time, thunders roared. This storm would be your perfect ally.

Alex had left a breach on his window, probably to let some fresh air enter the room despite the rain.

That mistake would cost his life.

It wasn’t hard to jump from the ceiling into his room. Your feet made no noise when they touched the carpet. Your presence, barely a breeze from outside. But despite your best efforts, it called Alex’s attention.

Your father and grandfather had talked about it many times – and you had seen it from far, too, observing your brothers work. Humans have a weird sixth sense. They somehow always know death is near.

And death, to him, came in the form of a child.

Alex got a bit startled, but sat down again on his leather chair. All he saw was a kid wearing a white wolf mask. All he thought was that one of his sons put a funny costume to spook him.

A smile was beginning to take form on his chapped lips.

He didn’t have time to complete it.

You focused on your right hand. Your nails grew, sharpened like blades. When you launched yourself towards him, you made no noise – no disturbance in the room despite your inhumane speed, no wrinkles on the carpet. Silent. Fast. Unnoticeable. Like it should be.

Your nails slit his throat faster than his mind could comprehend. A deep cut, deep enough so he wouldn’t be able to scream. His eyes widened. He gagged in silent despair. He looked at the figure of a child standing over his desk, their face hidden behind a white wolf mask, and tears welled up his eyes.

He would be dead in a minute.

You knew it’d take a long time for anyone to find his body. The entire house was asleep. So you decided to stand there and watch until life completely left his body – until he stopped trembling, until he was soaked with his own blood, until his eyes were empty.

Just an uninhabited corpse.

Boring.

You flew out the same window you used to enter.

While landing on the nearest ceiling, you looked down at your right hand. Your nails were back to normal; your fingertips were bloody. You frowned. That wasn’t a clean cut. You’d have to work on that.

“Congratulations on your first solo commission, Young Mistress.”

An instinctive huff emerged from your chest. Of course, you knew he’d be around – he was always around, this boring old man. You turned around to face Landon and his annoying mustache.

The butler wore his usual boring black suit and boring white gloves and boring umbrella to protect him from the rain. Despite his words, he had the same blank expression over his features. Hell, was he boring.

“I should note, however, that you were sloppy. Your target noticed your presence. You also caused unnecessary mass bleeding. A good assassin is always–“

“Clean.” You concluded for him with annoyance.

Landon didn’t seem to care. He never seemed to care about anything.

“It’s past midnight. It is now your birthday. What do you wish to do?”

“I wish to be left alone.” You didn’t bother looking back at him as you took off your mask and shoved it inside the bag crossed around your chest. “Do not follow me.”

Landon wasn’t surprised. You spent most of your time trying to run away from him, his lessons, his unstoppable and overwhelming watch. Sometimes you managed to get some time alone. Most times you didn’t.

But it was your birthday, so today he had to obey.

Not that you’d have much to do in this boring island at this boring kingdom at the least interesting part of the ocean.

At least, you’d be truly alone for the next 24 hours.

You jumped from ceiling to ceiling away from Landon, satisfied to know that he wasn’t following you for once – and wondering if this island could entertain you in the only day of freedom you had.

The town was boring. As expected.

Small. The buildings weren’t very tall, there weren’t many nice stores or restaurants. It was even funny how the people living at this part of the island walked around with high chins and chests full of pride… their city, their properties and titles were nothing compared to the magnificent islands of the New World. But they were just simple minded creatures, you knew; they never planned to leave this place. They would never understand that the world was vast and that they didn’t matter on the grand scheme of things.

So you didn’t waste much time there.

Then there was the giant junkyard at the other side of the city, separated from it by a high wall. Mountains and mountains of trash, rubble and junk extended for maybe two or three kilometers. It smelled as bad as you’d expect and a strange gray fog hovered in the air. Gray Terminal was a suitable name, indeed.

Surprisingly, that place was a bit more interesting than the town.

Poor people gathered like vermin over meat around the junk mountains. Scavengers looking for anything valuable. In the span of maybe thirty minutes, you saw a few fights popping here and there. It was a bit entertaining to sit and watch how normal people fought. But you decided to leave not only because the place really smelled bad, but because your good clothes and your neat pigtails would probably draw unwanted attention.

So you walked into the woods nearby – and finally, things got interesting.

One or two hours of walking took you deep into the forest. It was very obviously a rainforest with the heat and humidity expected from it, which made you take your raincoat and jacket off, shoving them inside your backpack. You quickly realized you were, in fact, climbing a mountain. The human sounds were replaced with the sounds of nature – leaves shuffling, birds chirping, and the noises of many other unknown animals.

What caught your attention at first was the sheer size of the trees – the deeper you got into the mountain, the bigger they got. Some seemed to be taller than thirty meters. Some branches were thicker than actual tree trunks.

But you soon found out that the trees weren’t the only giant things there.

The floor shook beneath your feet in regular intervals. Steps of something extremely heavy.

You expanded your perception to a wider radius than what your eyes could see and your ears could hear – and came to a conclusion. Immediate danger.

You swiftly jumped up to the nearest tree, standing on its lower branch – which was still pretty high, probably eight meters away from the ground, and waited in complete silence.

What came from between the trees made your eyes widen.

A bear. But not just any brown bear. That thing was colossal. Ridiculously big. Its claws seemed to be as tall as you.

And finally, you were excited about something.

You immediately took the small notebook from your backpack and started sketching the beast, silently regretting not bringing a Den Den Mushi to take a picture of it (you knew Landon would put a tracking device on it if you brought one with you, so you decided not to). You sketched the creature as fast as you could before it could disappear inside the forest again, making quick annotations around the drawing.

You knew that many islands had strange and unique fauna and flora, though you’d only read about it in books. You’d never seen abnormal animals like that, and honestly didn’t expect to find anything like this out of the Grand Line.

A small smile grew on your lips.

Your birthday wouldn’t be that boring, after all.

You looked down at the notebook and tightened your eyes. Oh… the bear came and went so quickly that you didn’t have time to put your round reading glasses on. After taking them from the backpack, you could see with clarity that you missed many details. You sat down on the branch and made the finishing touches.

It was time to move on.

You began to feel a little hungry past noon.

Not that you weren’t used to not eating for long periods of time. A good assassin must be in control of all of their physiological necessities at all times. What if a commission takes place at a critical environment? What if you need to be undercover for long periods of time to study your target? Things like hunger should be brushed aside. You’d only eat when your body begged for it.

But you were so entertained that your rumbling belly was just an afterthought.

Only a day wouldn’t be enough to catalog all of what you’ve found. Who would’ve thought this insignificant island would have so much to offer?

Going deeper into the mountain, you saw even more strange animals. Giant tigers and more bears and alligators in a river nearby. Why did the fauna at this island became so gigantic? What must’ve happened in their evolutionary process? In the span of only a few hours, you filled more than twenty pages with sketches and notes.

Morpho menelaus, you scribbled at the top of the page while checking your Insect Encyclopedia to be completely sure. It was pretty unmistakable: the beautiful blue wings of the butterfly resting in front of your eyes couldn’t be replicated by any other species. You held your breath, made sure to not produce any sound as to not scare the butterfly away. Why didn’t I bring a Den Den Mushi?, you scolded yourself for the hundredth time. It would’ve made your life so much easier.

You were almost finishing the sketch. This butterfly had a very specific black pattern at the tip of its wings and you wanted to convey it perfectly. You rushed to catch its details before it would go away–

“What are you doing?”

You gasped and turned around in a jump.

Of course, you knew there was something approaching – but it didn’t exude immediate danger, so you assumed it was just a squirrel or something.

It definitely wasn’t a squirrel.

It was a… boy.

The stranger looked at you with round, curious dark brown eyes – so dark that they almost looked completely black. A bit shorter than you, but definitely your age; his hair was a mess of black, almost completely hidden under a straw hat that was too big for his head. His olive skin was covered with dirt, just like the rest of his clothes – a red tank top and battered jeans shorts. He had a thin curvy scar under his left eye and a bandaid over the bridge of his nose.

He blinked.

You blinked.

But slowly, your surprise dissipated. A frown set on your face.

...Boring.

You turned around. The butterfly had obviously flown away. An annoyed sigh went past your lips.

You started to walk away.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He whined. His voice was annoyingly high pitched. You heard the tap tap of his sandals fast approaching. “What are you doing here? Are you lost?”

“Do I look lost?” You groaned between gritted teeth. Why did you even answer him?

“Well, then, are you stupid?”

This made you turn to look at him.

He didn’t seem bothered by your angry face.

“Why the hell would you want to climb Mt. Colubo alone?” The boy continued. “Never seen you ‘round Foosha or downtown. You’re from High Town, aren’t you? With those fancy clothes and all?”

You went back to walking.

He followed.

“This forest is pretty dangerous, did you know that? It’s not a place for the weak.” Then what are you doing here, too?, is what you wanted to ask, but you resigned to stay silent. “It’s full of monsters and poisonous snakes and bandits. They’ll want to steal you.” More silence. “By the way, my name is–“

“Shhhh!” You shushed him angrily before jumping to the branch of a tree.

You immediately opened your notebook again and started scribbling while crouching down.

To your distaste, you heard him jump after you. “What are you–?”

“Shhhh!” You shushed more aggressively this time. “You’ll scare it away!”

The boy tilted his head to the side and finally found what you were looking at while sketching rapidly.

“Ooooh,” he was surprisingly quiet this time.

Onychocerus albitarsis, you wrote at the top of the page. Commonly known as Scorpion Beetle. The brown, black and white insect moved slowly, its long antennae scooping the wood beneath it.

“This one’s pretty poisonous, did you know that?” He said. You didn’t need to turn your head to know he was looking from over your shoulder.

“Hmm.”

“I learned it the worst way.” He hissed as if remembering the pain of the sting. “You ain’t never seen one before? There are plenty of these here.” Silence. “None at the High Town, I guess? Yeah, I don’t think these stuck up people like insects.” More silence. “Is this why you’re here? To see insects?” He leaned away slightly. “Are you some sort of insect hunter?”

You paused for a second.

Shit. He definitely saw the family crest embroidered on the back of your shirt: the red symbol of a scorpion. You were sloppy once more. No one was supposed to see that family crest.

At the same time, there was no way this boy would know what it meant, so you decided to brush it aside.

“Well, I’m a pirate.” He seemed proud of himself, a sonorous smile in his voice. “Huh, not yet, but I’ll be one day. I’m gonna be the King of Pirates!” Silence. The boy hummed after a few seconds. “You’re pretty boring, did you know that, Four Eyes?”

You whipped your head at him for the first time.

“What did you just call me?”

“Four Eyes.” He was, once again, unbothered by your ferocious glare. His eyes fell over your notebook. “But you draw pretty well. Not better than me, though. Oh! It’s gone.”

You turned back in time to see the beetle flying away.

You sighed deeply and got up again while looking at him angrily. The boy got up, too. He either didn’t understand why you were angry or simply didn’t care.

“...I only wear glasses when I need to read,” you said between gritted teeth.

He blinked.

“And?”

You rolled your eyes and jumped to the floor again.

“Where are you going now?”

“Why are you following me?” You retorted. From the corner of your eye, you saw him rest both hands behind his head in a relaxed position.

“I got nothing better to do and I don’t see other kids here often.” Then, he opened a wide grin – you could probably see all his teeth with that smile. “Let’s be friends!”

You looked ahead again, feeling your stomach twirl.

Your father’s deep voice echoed inside your mind.

A Scarpia family member does not have friends.

Friends are weaknesses. A Scarpia only needs another Scarpia.

You tightened your fists.

No one should see the face of a Scarpia family member and live to tell the next day.

If you followed these rules to a ten, you’d have killed that boy already.

It’s what your father would have wanted. It’s what your brothers would have done. You’d seen them doing that before. This weird straw hat kid had already seen your face unmasked and the family crest on your back. If Landon were here, he would even have finished him for you.

It wouldn’t be hard to kill him. He wouldn’t even notice you slicing his throat with your nails.

But…

He wasn’t a commission. You didn’t want to dirt your fingertips with blood if you didn’t need to. There was no way this boy even knew what the Scarpia family was.

So you quickened your pace without looking back.

He followed.

You started running.

He followed.

You sprinted.

“Hey!” He yelled…

And followed.

You ran in zigzag in between the trees, climbing thick vines and jumping down cliffs, trying to mislead him – but damn, that boy actually seemed to know where he was going, differently from you. He was slower, but that was definitely an advantage. Shit, stop following me! Leave me alone! Why are you following me anyway?! How are you keeping up?!

Why– why are you laughing?!

Actually laughing. Not in a mocking way. He laughed at the top of his lungs, that huge grin never leaving his face.

“I’m gonna catch you!” He yelled.

“No, you won’t!” You yelled back. Why were you yelling?

“Just you wait!” And he laughed again.

That stirred something inside you.

You focused all of your strength in your legs; you visualized the energy in your body gathering there like white lines. The burst of adrenaline. A technique to be used in an escape situation.

When you got impulse to step forward, the floor cracked beneath your feet.

You sprinted away – so fast that it almost felt like flying. The world around you went by in a confusing blur, wind howled on your ears with the speed. As you didn’t know the area, you didn’t know exactly how many meters you ran – five hundred meters? Seven hundred? Your record was nine hundred meters, and you hoped to reach a kilometer soon, preferably before Crowley could do it.

It took a lot of effort to stop.

You rested both hands over your knees, panting. That was the disadvantage of this technique: it was too tiring. You couldn’t do it more than once a day and you still didn’t know how to take turns, always sprinting on a beeline. Your father could do it as many times as he wanted and change directions in the blink of an eye. You hoped to reach his level someday.

Well. That was enough to mislead that weirdo, at least.

You straightened your back and dried your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. You had aimed north, which meant you went higher into the mountain… you’d have to find your compass inside the backpack to be sure. Luckily, you had been marking the trees as to find the way out easily–

And that’s when someone slapped the back of your neck.

You turned around in a jump, already taking a fight stance–

It was that boy.

He grinned so wide that it looked like his cheeks would rip apart.

“Tag! You’re it!” He announced before turning around and– and–

And running away.

You stood there, completely shocked, following him with your eyes.

How… how…?

Did he reach you in a minute and half?

He ran over five hundred meters in a minute and half?

Who the hell was that boy?!

He realized you weren’t following after a while. He turned around, still smiling – but confusion covered his features.

“You’re it!” He yelled from there as if reminding you.

He was distancing himself from you. You should take that opportunity to run in the opposite direction and finally get rid of him. But something made you stop – something that completely silenced the voice of reason, the voice of your father.

Curiosity.

“How did you do that?” You asked. He frowned.

“Huhhhh??” He put his hand in a shell near his ear. Oh. He was quite far.

“How–“ You cleaned your throat. Screaming was not something you were used to do. “How did you do that?!”

“Do what?!”

“Reached me so fast?!”

“Oh!” He grinned again – but there was something a bit mischievous about it this time.

You watched, confused, as the boy spun his right arm around many times.

You watched, shocked, when he threw his arm after taking impulse and it stretched.

It stretched and stretched and stretched to a tree standing by your side. He entangled his stretched arm around the trunk; his arm distended as if it was a rubber band and he came flying towards you.

You watched, jaw dropped, when he landed in front of you. His arm untangled from around the trunk and went back to normal with a very sonorous snap.

He grinned proudly.

“Like that!”

It took you a few seconds to recover.

“...You ate a Devil Fruit.”

He nodded.

“The Gomu Gomu no Mi. I became the rubber man!” He pinched his own cheek and it stretched too, before releasing it with, again, a sonorous snap. As if he needed to demonstrate it even more.

That was definitely a surprise.

You didn’t even think someone from this small island, so far from the Grand Line, would even know what a Devil Fruit is – let alone eat one.

You frowned slightly.

“My father says Devil Fruits are for the weak. Someone should be strong based on their inherent body capabilities alone.” That was hammered into your head over and over again… and you noticed with some distaste that you kind of sounded like Landon.

The boy crossed his arms. The smile never left his lips.

“Well, your father’s an idiot!”

Your jaw dropped again.

That scrawny dirty looking boy just called Scarpia Drachen an idiot.

And at that moment – something very very strange and very very unusual happened inside of you, something you couldn’t control, and it was like you could hear Landon’s annoying husky voice echoing in your ears that you should always be in control of your body and your reactions–

But you couldn’t help it.

You laughed.

You covered your mouth and bent over slightly, the other hand gripping the fabric of the shirt over your stomach. I shouldn’t laugh! This is so so so disrespectful! I will be scolded for sure!

But– But Landon wasn’t there. Or your father. Or any of your brothers.

Just the weird stretchy boy.

And he thought that was funny, too. He giggled as if proud of himself.

“By the way, how did you do that?” He asked, crossing his arms. “You ran so fast that the ground cracked! That was faster than Ace! Is that an insect hunter ability or something?”

You didn’t know who the hell Ace was and you didn’t feel like asking. You straightened your back after swallowing the laughter. “Yeah. We… we train to be faster than everybody.”

Why were you talking to him? Why did you answer his question? Why hadn’t you mislead him yet? What was wrong with you? No no no– that was wrong. You needed to get away from him as fast as possible.

But, for some reason, you didn’t move.

The straw hat boy grinned mischievously again and rubbed his hands.

“But I bet you’re not faster than me! I already know your technique, it won’t surprise me anymore!” He started walking on his back at a fast pace while still grinning at you. “C’mon, you’re it!”

But you still didn’t move.

“Do you… want me to chase you?”

“Duuuuh, that’s how it works, Four Eyes!”

You still didn’t understand.

“Why? Is this some sort of training?”

He finally stopped running.

“How come, why?” Now he looked confused. “Because it’s fun!”

The boy grinned.

It… seemed so easy for him. So obvious. Like you were the stupid one there.

...Fun?

Fun was the opposite of boring.

You weren’t bored searching for animals and cataloging them. You liked to draw, you liked to be left alone. You knew that the right thing to do would be to distance yourself.

But he was jigging from side to side excitedly and that made your heart beat faster for some reason. The same way it was beating faster when you were trying to mislead him. Because of adrenaline, you knew – that was the obvious answer. But maybe… maybe…

It was because it was fun.

You started to walk towards him. He laughed excitedly and turned around.

Then you were running.

Then you were sprinting.

He changed directions either with his legs or gripping tree trunks with his abnormal ability to drastically take turns. You ran after him, unable to use that burst of adrenaline again, but that wasn’t necessary… if you did it, you’d reach him quicker and it would all be over too soon. It wouldn’t be fun.

So you caught him without cheating. But he wasn’t angry or disappointed when you did – he just laughed at the top of his lungs and yelled, my turn!

And then you were being chased.

And then you were laughing.

And then he caught you and it was your turn to yell you’re it!

And then you were breathless and your stomach hurt from laughing but you didn’t want to stop.

Because… because it was fun.

“I wanted meat!” He whined unhappily.

You side eyed him while munching your slice of watermelon. Even though he kept complaining, he was eating his anyway – and it was a bit scary how fast he ate and how big his bites were. He was finishing his… second? Third watermelon? You weren’t counting.

When both of you got way too tired – and that took a lot: the sun was starting to set – you decided to rest for a bit and eat something. A clearing nearby had a plantation of watermelons. It was obviously cultivated by someone, but turns out he had no idea who it was or if they would mind if you’d take some. You certainly didn’t mind taking them.

You’d been sitting side by side, facing a cliff with a gorgeous view of the forest and sunset ever since.

“And how would you find meat?” You asked absentmindedly while munching.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’d hunt! There are tons of weird animals here!” He took another big bite and tilted his head at you. “You’re kind of slow, aren’t you, Four Eyes?”

“My name’s not Four Eyes,” you said between gritted teeth. You didn’t even realize you were still wearing the glasses… you took them off and shoved them inside the backpack.

“What’s your name, then?”

You froze.

You hadn’t given him a name. He hadn’t told his either, even though you’d been playing for the past few hours.

But you couldn’t give him your real name. That was a basic rule: no one should see your face. No one should know your name. Every interaction with an outsider had to be calculated and well-thought out for the safety of the family.

The straw hat boy had already seen your face and the family crest.

But… it’s not like he had any idea what the Scarpia family was, right? So giving him a fake name would suffice.

“...Wolfie,” you lied after the first thing that came to mind. You immediately regretted it, realizing how silly it sounded after the made up name left your mouth, but it was too late to correct it now.

He nodded and swallowed a big bite before grinning. His mouth was all dirty with watermelon juice. “My name’s Monkey D. Luffy and I’m gonna be the King of Pirates!”

He didn’t seem to notice how stupid your “name” sounded… great. “...You already said that.” You looked ahead again. The sky had pretty hues of pink and orange as the sun disappeared slowly behind the horizon line. The treetops swayed softly with the wind, resembling sea waves of green. “Why do you wanna be a pirate?”

Why were you asking?

You had no idea. You weren’t supposed to find more about this Luffy boy. You weren’t supposed to be interested. But at the same time – you’d never see him again anyway, so what was wrong with making a question?

Right?

“Is it for the treasures?” It should be, you remarked, given how ragged his clothes were. Well, there was nothing wrong with wanting a fortune.

Luffy’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Pirates are the coolest people in the world!” He declared, gesticulating widely and setting the half eaten watermelon aside for the first time. “They go anywhere they want, do whatever they want and take what they want! They are free!” The more he talked, the more excited he looked. “My friend Shanks– he’s a pirate, too, and he goes on all sorts of adventures. He told me about it, all the islands and people and enemies he faced!” Luffy held the brim of his straw hat softly. “I made a promise that I’d become a great pirate like him so we can meet again in the sea someday!”

You hummed quietly.

The watermelon tasted sweet, way too sweet. You took another bite and munched it slowly.

“Freedom, huh?” Your voice was just a little bit louder than the wind. “Must be nice.”

“Right?” Luffy elbowed your arm excitedly. “The world is so much bigger than Mt. Colubo or Foosha Village or the Gray Terminal. There are so many islands out there! So many weird monsters and strong guys to fight!” He tightened his hands in fists and punched an invisible enemy. “That’s why me and Ace train everyday. To get even stronger!”

You side eyed Luffy again. He had an interesting ability, you had to admit, even though you were taught to despise Devil Fruit users. And yeah, he was definitely faster and stronger than the average kid your age. But… he was far from being strong. He was very killable, in fact. If he actually wanted to go to the seas someday, he had a long way to go.

Whatever. It was none of your business.

But even so – his speech about how vast the world is was kind of… touching, in a way. You knew about that, too. You’d been to many places, following your brothers in commissions or being taken to harsh environments to train. But you’d never… paid attention to anything. Everything was just training or business. Everything was boring.

But you thought Dawn Island was boring at first too – until you had the time and freedom to explore it and find all these giant animals and insects. Until you could look closely.

Maybe he had a point.

You swallowed another bite before speaking.

“There is an island I’d like to visit someday, you know.” You started slowly. Hesitantly. Luffy was paying attention, which somehow made you nervous. You weren’t used to that – someone actually listening to you. “I mean… an archipelago on the Grand Line. The islands are full of giant insects.”

“Giant insects?!” Luffy widened his eyes. “Do you think there are giant beetles there too?!”

“From what I’ve read, yeah. Beetles larger than houses. Spiders taller than giraffes. And carnivorous plants, too, big enough to eat a person.”

The straw hat boy giggled excitedly and bounced a bit while still sitting. He seemed unable to not move for a long time, you noticed. “You could fill entire notebooks with your drawings there!” Luffy eyed you up and down with somewhat of a smug expression. “Why haven’t you been there yet, though? You don’t look broke. I bet you have enough money to travel wherever you want.”

Your shoulder dropped a bit. “The Boin Islands are far. Very very far. And… I don’t think my parents would let me.”

Because it’d be useless. A waste of money and time. It wouldn’t make you a better assassin in their opinion… so what was the point?

Luffy filled his chest and pointed at himself with his thumb proudly. “No problem. I’ll take you there when I become a pirate! My ship will be huuuge with, like, two masts and a big crew. No storms will sink us. We’ll get there and see all the giant bugs!”

For the hundredth time that day, you had the strange, instinctive reaction to giggle. You had the even stranger thought that, yeah, traveling with him would be fun.

The straw hat boy stretched his arms and cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hah… the sun’s setting, I should get back before Ace gets worried.” Luffy got up and looked down at you excitedly. “Come with me, Wolfie! The forest’s even more dangerous at night, but our place is safe. We got meat for dinner, too.”

It was a bit insane how he could think of eating more after chomping so many watermelons.

But… his reminder that the sun was setting filled you with sudden sadness.

It took you hours to get to the top of the mountain… it’d take more hours to get down. If you didn’t leave now, Landon would climb it to find you – he always found you somehow – and to see you with this boy would put you in serious trouble.

It would put him in serious trouble, actually. In danger.

So you sighed and got up, too, taking the backpack from the floor and putting it on your back.

“Sorry, I have to go now.”

Luffy quirked one eyebrow. “You sure? Ain’t you gonna get lost? Is someone coming to pick you up?” He put his hands on each side of his waist. “I’m serious, the forest is really dangerous at night! Not even us go around when it’s dark!”

“I’ll be fine.” It was a bit interesting how this boy, much weaker than you, seemed so worried for your safety. That was also unusual.

You stood there awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to do. You also weren’t used to goodbyes.

“Hm… I’ll… get going then.” You started to walk backwards while gripping the trap of the backpack nervously. “It was… it was nice meeting you.”

Luffy smiled and nodded. “See ya!”

You hesitated before turning around.

See ya. He probably thought he’d see you again soon. That was funny.

No. That was a bit sad.

Your eyes kept glued to the floor, shoulders dropped, as you made your way down the hill slowly. Maybe you could go back and spend a little more time with him… maybe meet this Ace he kept talking about. You could play a little more. Sketch a few more insects.

No no no. Landon was nearby. He’d kill Luffy on the spot. He had permission to kill anyone he deemed a threat to your safety or your education – and he’d do it without consulting your opinion.

It was better for Luffy to never see you again.

...Your steps slowed even more.

For the first time, you remember Alex Husquid – the man you killed as soon it turned midnight. How you stood there and watched as his eyes emptied. How it made you feel nothing but boredom. Just a commission, after all, like any other.

But why the idea of seeing that same thing happen to Luffy bothered you so much?

This… this weird short boy you met just a few hours ago?

Why did the fact that you’d never see him again made your heart tighten like that?

You suddenly stopped on your tracks.

Wait.

Maybe… maybe you could. Maybe you could see him again.

You turned around, ready to run up the hill again to find Luffy– but turns out he was still standing there, watching you go.

Your heart throbbed loudly. Your hands were sweating. That was wrong wrong wrong. But even so–

“Luffy!” You called. He smiled from far and waved. “Can I… Can I see you again next year?”

Luffy narrowed his eyes and put his hands over his knees. “Huuhhh?!”

Oh– right. You were already too far.

You tightened your hands into fists, feeling a mix of anxiety and embarrassment, before screaming:

“Can I see you again next year?!”

This time, your voice echoed through the woods.

Luffy widened his eyes in surprise. “Next year?! That’s too long!”

You were immediately taken aback. Was he brushing you aside?

“I… I live very far!” That wasn’t a lie. “Can I come or not?!”

Luffy straightened his back.

He grinned again – one of his big, big grins, so big that his eyes closed tight, so large that you felt your own lips curving up, too.

“Of course! I’ll be waiting for you!”

Why were you bouncing a bit? Why did a light weird squeal went past your lips?

“Okay! Let’s meet right here!”

“Okay!”

“Let’s play even more next time!”

“I’ll be even faster than you!” He giggled smugly.

“No, you won’t!” Oh no– you still had to leave. You turned around slowly and waved him a last goodbye. “Bye!”

Luffy waved back excitedly.

Finally, you turned completely and walked down the hill.

Then you were running.

Then you were laughing.

It was probably because of the adrenaline, you knew, but you also knew that it was because you had fun. Because you had something to look forward to – someone to look forward to.

And that was far from being boring.

No rain fell over the Goa Kingdom the day you made your first friend.

[kimvvantae]

Aurora; 12 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 8k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!! PHEW. It's been a while. I know I'm posting it at a random hour but I needed to get this chapter off my chest. I explained on tumblr why it took me so long to update. To be honest my cat is still in a bad shape and I'm still absurdly worried about her… but oh well, I needed to post this chapter to think of something else for a while, at least. So it'd be very kind of you to leave a comment to help me not freak out about my cat :)

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

You’re tired of fighting.

Your limbs are heavy, your throat burns, bruises cover your skin. Still, you try to run.

It’s useless. The two women dragging you inside the tomb are way stronger – unnaturally stronger than a human being should be. You growl like an animal, you kick and try to punch and claw anything on your reach. It’s still useless. The piece of cloth tightly wrapped around your mouth prevents you from speaking anything coherent.

The corridor opens to a big hall. The place is ancient, it is brightly illuminated by many torches. Strange paintings cover the walls and tall columns. There is a platform and something that looks like an altar ahead of you. On their sides, there are tall ceramic vases, five on each side. Sitting at the right side of the altar, there is a statue: the body of a female, the head of a lion, wielding a spear.

There is a woman standing on top of the platform.

A violent shiver runs down your spine. You know that woman… she was the first thing you saw when you woke up. If she didn’t exude cruelty and malice, maybe you would’ve thought she is beautiful: her tall stature, her long curly dark brown hair, her full lips and pink irises… but you know better. There is nothing good about that woman except her appearance.

She wears a similar white tunic as the other women in the hall, but is the only one wearing a golden headpiece, a thick necklace and many bracelets. Her expression isn’t cruel and mocking at the moment like you’ve seen her before. She just looks serious.

And there’s that other thing on the altar, too.

It… it resembles a woman, but you’re not sure: as pale as a cadaver, contrasting with the warmer skin tones of all the other women inside the tomb; its hair is long, straight and red, resembling a lion’s mane. The creature is… strangely tall, its arms and legs are disproportional to the rest of the body. It’s completely naked – you see the rags of what probably was its clothes scattered around the altar.

And it looks sick.

It’s way too skinny. Its ribs are very clearly outlined on the skin. Its cheeks are profound; its red eyes have heavy dark circles around them. Its whole body is trembling, its breathing is irregular. It drools like a sick dog.

And they are pulling you towards it.

After the initial shock, you begin to kick and scream again, but it’s still useless. You don’t want to be anywhere near that thing. It smells awful, it’s uncanny and scary and violently unnatural…

The other woman – who appears to be some sort of leader – grips you by the arm and drags you closer to that creature. She is even stronger than the other two who held you previously. She says something in a language you don’t understand.

You scream again. You try to pull your arm back, you try to claw her–

She squeezes your arm.

An agonizing yell erupts from your throat. Tears well up your eyes. Your legs fail.

You could hear the sound of your bones cracking under her grip.

That creature holds you this time. It pants like an animal. Even through the pain, you try to push it away – but it is useless.

Its long fingers entangle around the hair at the back of your head; it pushes it, forcing your head back and exposing your neck. It open its mouth wide, its horrible fangs approaching…

When it bites your neck, you can’t scream anymore; its jaws completely block your trachea. You gag, your eyes pop wide. There’s a suction noise… it is sucking your blood, you realize with horror. Your good hand still tries to pull its hair, but once again, it is useless… extreme weakness roams your body. The world twirls as every bit of strength disappears. Your head hurts as if someone had just hammered it.

Finally, it lets you go. You fall flat on the floor.

Your vision is blurred and darkening. You can’t move anymore. Your arm and your neck hurt so, so bad. And yet, you have time to see something before completely blacking out.

The creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.

It is indeed a woman, not a thing.

She sighs contently and stretches her arms.

The world fades away.

Notre Dame’s high vaulted ceiling was indeed impressive.

How long did it take to build such a magnificent structure? How many workers were necessary? Who must’ve planned the building? How did they know that something so big wouldn’t crumble? Who must’ve crafted the beautiful stained glasses that colored the walls as sunshine touched them?

You had no idea.

You didn’t know why you were staring at it, either.

Your senses came back rather slowly. Voices… steps… everything echoed within the cathedral. The place you were laid at was uncomfortable… a wooden bench. One of the many you’d seen previously. Now that the place was properly lit by sunlight, it didn’t look as eerie as before.

Finally, you decided to sit up.

The great hall was full. The benches weren’t perfectly lined as before, which made you remember that Jules and the monks had used them to barricade the doors. You quickly realized that the injured in battle were brought inside the cathedral, where women priestesses wearing black tunics that covered their heads helped them (you heard two distinctive words: sister and nun. Was that the name of their position?). You saw them running from side to side, holding bloody pieces of cloth and water basins. Other civilian women were helping with medical aid as well.

No known face in sight.

Immediate nervousness set in your guts. Where was everybody? Why were you laying there?

This nervousness vanished in two seconds, however, when a familiar voice called.

You turned your head to see Charles, Jules and Henri rushing to where you were. You almost sighed in relief; Jules didn’t look seriously injured and Henri’s right shoulder was properly bandaged, though he still looked way too pale and tired. All of them looked worn out, in fact, with their uniforms ragged in some spots and blood stains here and there.

“Mademoiselle! You’re–“

“You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“I’ll call for help! Sister! Please–“

You immediately raised your palm in Charle’s direction. “No, please. I am fine. I don’t need medical aid, thank you.”

The three boys sat down. They silently battled to see who would take their place by your side – Henri ended up winning. The other two sat on the bench in front of you, frowning at the ginger boy.

“What happened? Where is Alucard?” You asked.

“You passed out, Miss Ruby.” Charles explained. Jules elbowed him and angry whispered don’t call her by her name, you’re not her close friend!. “Mr. Alucard brought you down. After he checked that you weren’t hurt, he let you rest and left to care for the troops… he told us to take care of you–“

“He told me to take care of you.” Jules hissed again.

“He didn’t address you, we were all present at that moment…”

But their incessant arguing didn’t catch your attention, because you remembered someone and it immediately made your heart race.

“Mizrak!” You looked around, searching for his familiar face between the injured. “Where is Mizrak?!”

They eyed each other hesitantly.

“The monk, isn’t it?” Jules asked. You nodded. “He… he disappeared, Mademoiselle. He just weren’t there when we opened the doors again.”

“He might’ve crawled somewhere else,” Charles tried to calm you down. “There are other points in the city were the injured are being taken care of.”

“He’s a strong man, isn’t he? I-I’m sure he’s alright, somewhere…” Henri didn’t sound confident at all, however.

You instinctively gripped the fabric of your skirt. How could he just have disappeared? No one simply disappears. His wound was beyond serious, it needed immediate medical assistance. What if a vampire had dragged him away, fed from his corpse? What if he died because of you?

Which made you remember something else, for some reason. Your eyes popped wide once again.

“My scepter? Where is it?” Once again, you looked at your sides.

“My” scepter. Why did you claim it as yours so instinctively?

It just… felt right to do so.

“It’s under the bench, mademoiselle,” Henri pointed. You rushed to grab it, almost sighing in relief. Something so shiny would definitely attract thieves if you weren’t careful.

The three boys were engaged in some conversation. They were asking you questions, in fact, about what happened exactly at the top of the bell tower, where did that light come from, but you weren’t paying attention, focusing your eyes on the golden artifact instead.

You had already noticed it before – but the staff had a very subtle cone format. It got a bit thinner on the other end.

You brushed your fingers around it. The scepter… it didn’t look that unfamiliar anymore.

There was a small spot on the base of it, near the sun symbol. You pressed your thumb over it.

And then – the staff retracted.

It emitted a soft metallic sound as the entire length of the staff fit into itself. Now, you just held a disk – the sun symbol – that was a little larger than your hand, with ninety percent of the staff reduced to a small handle.

The four of you went immediately silent in shock.

“Wow.” Jules exclaimed. “How did you do this?”

“I don’t know.”

“It retracted perfectly,” Henri said in awe. “It’s an engineering masterpiece!”

They began to discuss between themselves again, and as much as you didn’t really mind their company, they were starting to bring you headaches. They reminded you a bit of a pack of turkeys – if one made a noise, all the others repeated.

“Gentlemen,” your voice immediately stopped their incessant talking. They looked at your with attention. You held the sun disk with both hands and rested them over your lap. “I didn’t have the opportunity to properly thank you all yet. Without your efforts, I would’ve never arrived here… and I don’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if I didn’t. All of you saved uncountable lives today.” You managed to open a small smile while passing your eyes by each of the three. “Thank you so much.”

They got speechless for once.

You watched as their lips curved up into grins. Jules massaged the back of his neck sheepishly, Charles stuffed his chest like a bird, Henri got redder than a tomato. It was funny how these three were only big in size; in your eyes, they weren’t much far from the other three little boys you met in Paris.

You were also a bit surprised at your own speech. A week ago, you would’ve never even imagined yourself speaking with quiet confidence like that… you didn’t stutter once, which honestly felt great.

Finally, you stood up, being followed by them.

“Do you know where Alucard and the others are?”

Of course they knew. Of course they wouldn’t let you make your way there on your own.

The three guided you outside of the cathedral once again talking incessantly. You resigned yourself to replying with short sentences anytime a question was asked, way too focused on analyzing the destruction of the city. There was blood everywhere. The area around Notre Dame specifically was full of night creature carcasses; volunteers worked on grabbing them to throw them in a bonfire nearby. The streets were crowded as citizens helped clean the city, bring down the rubble barricades, measure the damage, or simply went back to their homes and establishments.

It was strange to see everything under the sunshine… and to think that just one or two hours ago, you were running around these streets, trying to survive vampire attacks, feeling the deepest fear you’ve ever felt – and trying to brush it aside. You had managed to, somehow… something unthinkable for the person you were a week ago.

...Had you really changed this much in a few days, or you were simply allowed to be yourself for the first time in your life?

“...What I’m trying to say, Mademoiselle,” Henri’s nervous voice caught your attention for the first time. He sent an angry glance towards the other two before looking at you with expectation. “D-Do you have a house in Paris?”

“No.”

“Great! I-I mean–“ he cleaned his throat and put his hand over his chest. “If you need a place to stay – to spend the night, perhaps – you are more than welcome in my house. It’s not far from here. We have enough rooms and food for you. A-And Mr. Alucard, of course,” he giggled nervously.

You half expected the other two to offer their homes as well, but they didn’t, to your surprise. They just looked at him with what looked like jealousy.

Before you could answer, you arrived at a great square – and you forgot about the three.

“Excuse me,” you said before rushing towards Annette.

The square had many people walking from here to there, dragging rubble or just watching – but you didn’t care. Annette is alive! More than that, she looked fine. The dark haired girl spotted you as well and rushed, meeting you halfway.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Where is Richter?” You blurted out, immediately searching for injuries with your eyes. Annette chuckled and held your arms delicately.

“I’m fine. We’re both fine. What about you?” She quirked one eyebrow up. “I heard you unleashed some terrifying magic.”

She lowered her eyes to the sun disk you held. You immediately avoided her gaze, feeling sheepish. “Well, I… I don’t really know how to explain what happened.”

Annette shrugged. “Neither do I.”

“Where’s Richter?” You repeated and started to turn around. Annette, for some reason, widened her eyes and was about to hold you back again…

“Wait–“

She tried, but it was already too late.

The first thing you saw was Alucard, standing at a good distance.

He was eyeing you intently. Juste Belmont was by his side – how and when did he arrive in Paris? – wearing an elegant long red coat.

When your eyes crossed his, your entire body froze.

What happened at the bell tower…

It felt as if your entire face was on fire. Heavens, you hugged him – you actually hugged him, you entangled your arms around his neck and cried like a child. You certainly were not in your right mind to do something so… so… so…!

But then, you looked at something else – the thing Annette was worried that you’d see – and all the other thoughts ceased.

Your stomach dropped.

A big bonfire was being formed by civilians bringing rubble; it was more than two meters tall, perhaps. In between the pieces of wood, there were corpses – the vampires that didn’t turn to ashes during the flash of sunlight.

And the biggest corpse of them all…

You instinctively stepped back.

Erzsebet Bathory.

She didn’t look like herself anymore. She was even taller than what you remembered, her red hair longer, her face distorted in animalistic traits… one arm had been chopped off. She had many bruises and injuries. Her cheeks were hollow, her mouth wide open in a perpetual expression of shock and pain.

Erzsebet Bathory was dead.

No mistakes this time, Alucard had said.

The sight of her destroyed, lifeless corpse made your stomach twirl. And once again, you hated the effect this woman had upon you even in death, even with you looking at her in that state. It felt like she would suddenly screech and launch herself at you like so many times before. You could almost feel her claws gnawing your skin, her fangs sinking in your neck…

She is dead. She is dead. She can’t hurt me anymore. She is dead.

Annette’s soft touch on your shoulder brought you back to reality. She looked at you with worry.

“Do you remember what I told you?” She asked quietly.

And when we defeat Erzsebet, justice will be done.

You closed your eyes for a moment and sighed.

“Yes. I’ll… I’ll be fine.” You reassured her. You weren’t fine at that moment, but you would be.

Finally, you spotted Richter walking towards you both. He looked very injured – he had multiple burns on both arms, the sleeves of his blue jacket had been ripped. He was limping and looked very tired, yet still managed to open a small smile to you.

He carried a long piece of wood. The tip had been draped with pieces of cloth.

His small smile vanished. He looked down at you with solemnity.

“You arrived at the right time, Ruby.” Richter looked down at the wood he held. “We believe… you deserve to be the one to do it.”

You finally understood.

That was a torch.

You gulped, your body got tense. Even so, you nodded accordingly. You wouldn’t be able to speak even if you tried.

Richter summoned a ball of blue fire in his hand and ignited the torch. You shoved the sun disk inside your vest and held the torch with both hands.

You took a deep breath before approaching the pyre.

The square stopped to watch the scene.

Erzsebet’s corpse was horrendous, disgusting. You decided to not avoid your gaze from it. You bent slightly, making the tip of the torch touch the wood at the base of the pyre. The fire spread rapidly.

You stepped away and watched.

The people at the square cheered at the sight of the so-called Vampire Messiah burning. Your world, however, was quiet. All you could hear were the sounds of the wood cackling, the flames increasing and consuming everything in the pyre. You watched with attention as the fire consumed Erzsebet’s corpse; it burned her skin, her hair, muscles and bones. And a part of you was grateful to be left alone – Alucard, Annette, Richter and the three boys decided to stand away.

Erzsebet was dead. Definitely.

She used to be your world merely a week ago. Everything revolved around her: your fear, your hopelessness, your hatred, your self-loathing, your confusion. You were just a shadow of a person, an empty fragile shell on the verge of breaking apart. She was your world – and your world was dark, cold, bloody and lonely.

Things were slowly changing now.

You learned that the real world also had place for colors. For kindness, friendship, perseverance and freedom. The real world was not a perfect place, but it was vast; and its vastness for sure should have a place for you somewhere – a place were you wouldn’t be hurt anymore.

At that moment, you decided that you would never cry for her again.

You had already cried enough. She had forced you to dedicate your entire existence for her. You knew that your wounds were way too deep to be forgotten, you knew that the scars that would come from them would be ugly and impossible to ignore. You knew that it wouldn’t be fast and easy to overcome your fears and all the disgusting memories she dug into your soul.

But even so, you decided not to cry.

She had taken enough from you.

When her skeleton was visible, you turned your back to the pyre.

Richter was leaning on Annette for support, his arm resting over her shoulders while she hugged him from the side. You approached them hesitantly.

Annette still looked worried.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

You looked down at your bloody sleeve.

“Disgusting. I need a bath.” Finally, you lifted your gaze again. “A friend of mine can help us out.”

You quickly found out why the other two boys didn’t offer their houses as well.

Henri was the son of a judge, who was apparently intimately tied to the leaderships of the Revolutionaries. His house was far from being as luxurious as the chateau in Machecoul (you figured that if Henri’s father had a house like that, he’d be next in the guillotine line), but it was still bigger and more comfortable than the average home anyway, located at the heart of Paris.

Henri had offered you (and Alucard as an afterthought) a shelter… but you figured he wouldn’t mind if you brought other visitors as well.

Right?

Well, his father certainly didn’t mind. The middle-aged man thanked Alucard over a hundred times, his eyes gleaming as if he stood in front of a golden statue, babbling how he was thankful for his help. Alucard listened patiently, but you were around him for long enough to start noticing his very subtle expression changes.

You remembered his opinion about the leaders of the Revolutionaries…

Well.

The rest of the group was more than happy to have a place to stay for a while, so there wasn’t really what to argue here.

“Stay for as long as you like!” Henri’s father repeated for the hundredth time while guiding everyone inside. “We have enough bedrooms, enough food… well, perhaps not enough clothes, but I’ll figure it out in no time! Tell me whatever you need and I’ll have it ready. All I have to offer is little compared to what you did to save our nation today!”

Alucard resigned himself to offer him a nod.

Before the white-haired vampire could focus on you, you immediately accepted a maid’s offer to get upstairs and have a bath.

...You didn’t know why you were avoiding him. Not exactly. Perhaps embarrassment? You’d never been deliberately touchy with anyone like that before. Well, you weren’t in your right mind at that moment for whatever reason. Maybe you crossed a boundary? Maybe you went too far? Alucard didn’t push you away, however – but he wasn’t one to be rude anyway… at the same time, it’s not like Alucard wasn’t someone that didn’t know how to establish boundaries. The fact that he didn’t push you away had to mean something, right?

He hugged you back, in fact.

He rested his face on your shoulder and didn’t move.

You felt his hot breath on your neck and his large hand softly caressing your back.

For the second time, he held you until you fell asleep.

Your face was burning hot.

Suddenly, for unknown reasons, you felt as if you were exposed again, as if there was a crowd watching you with scrutiny even though there was no one else besides the maid in the room. You felt burning embarrassment crawl over your skin and it burnt almost as much as the strange magic of the scepter. For the first time in your life, you dismissed a maid’s offer to help you bathe and decided to do it yourself.

And then you were alone in the bedroom, but you still felt strange and exposed and oh heavens you were disgusting. Sweaty, dried blood covered your skin. You got rid of those layers of clothes and sat inside the wooden bathtub – it was smaller than what you were used to, the water wasn’t as warm, there weren’t bath salts, only a bar of soap.

Erzsebet chose the bath salts you’d bathe in. She liked flowery fragrances.

And then you remembered that you still smelled of her, that her disgustingly sweet smell was mixed with the smell of blood and sweat, and then you were scrubbing yourself with the sponge and soap vehemently.

You scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, watching the foam spread over your skin. You scrubbed your arms and chest and legs and stomach and feet. But the smell wouldn’t go away, so you scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. You scrubbed until your skin started to hurt. That pain made you remember the sight of Erzsebet burning in the pyre, the sight of her skin boiling and melting from her bones – which, for some reason, made you scrub harder. You weren’t planning to, but you ended up untying your hair and washing it too, scratching your scalp with soap in frenetic movements because that bad smell was probably in your hair, too.

You scrubbed your own body until you were tired, until the water became actually cold, until your arms hurt from the repetitive movements. You stood inside the tub with water on your knees, the naked upper part of your body shaking in cold, and watched as blood dripped from the scratches you had inflicted on your own thighs. Perhaps… perhaps too much scrubbing. How did that even happen?

You sniffed your hair. Your skin. It didn’t smell of flowers anymore.

Just soap.

So you finally got out of the tub and wrapped yourself in a towel.

When the maid entered the bedroom with a fresh change of clothes, you avoided eye contact with her. She explained that the dress was Henri’s sister’s and perhaps it wouldn’t fit, but she already had a box of threads and needles to make adjustments. It wasn’t an intricate ball gown, but it wasn’t a simple dress either. It had cream and light green tones with pink flowers peppered around the corset and skirt. The dress was light and comfortable. It didn’t require many adjustments.

The maid offered herself to brush and style your hair, to which you politely declined. She probably wouldn’t be aggressive the way you were used to, but… no. Not right now.

When the maid left, you sat in front of the dressing table… and stayed there for a while. Disheveled damp hair fell over your shoulders. It was probably wetting the back of the dress. You didn’t care.

You stared at your own reflection for the first time in days.

The morning Alucard appeared in your life, you were doing just that – watching your reflection. Scrutinizing yourself. You didn’t look different. But, at the same time, there was something different about you – and you couldn’t tell exactly what.

You still had no past or family or name… but you weren’t just a bird in a cage anymore either, nor a lamb obediently walking to its slaughter night after night.

You were free.

It was scary.

What were you going to do from now on? You were actually alone. You owned nothing, and it was pretty clear that in order to survive in this world, you’d need some gold or coins or… whatever the currency was. You couldn’t assume Henri would let you live under his shelter forever and you weren’t innocent enough to not understand what it meant to stay.

You were nobody.

The others? They accepted you because you were a link to Erzsebet’s powers, an upper hand. Now their enemies were dead. They had no responsibility over you… you shouldn’t assume that they would take care of you like you were a child.

As humiliating as it might be, you felt like a child.

What would be your place in this world? Was something expected of you? Would they expect you to get married and have children? Should you find some sort of work? Should you perform some sort of role?

The reflection in the mirror frowned back at you slowly.

A… role?

...

You learned that your blood was valuable to her.

...

“But I am no vampire.”

“No. However, you heal like one. And Erzsebet drank from your blood for a long time, apparently.”

Annette looked at Alucard. “Do you think this was also somehow empowering her?”

The vampire took some moments to answer. “Maybe. We can’t be sure.”

…

That creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.

It is indeed a woman, not a thing.

…

It took you a long time to realize that there was someone knocking on the door. You got up in a jump and rushed towards it with your thoughts rushing faster than the currents of a river.

It was Henri. He had also taken a proper bath, changed his clothes, and blushed furiously when his eyes fell on your figure. Maybe because your hair was damp and not presentable? Not very lady-like. Perhaps inappropriate. But you didn’t care, the same way you didn’t really pay attention to anything he was saying; his words seemed muffled and distant within the cacophony of your own thoughts.

The bandages on his left shoulder were peeking from under his blouse.

“Henri, would you do something for me?” you interrupted whatever he was babbling before. “But you have to trust me.”

His eyes widened. “O-Of course! Anything for you, Mademoiselle.”

You opened the door wide and stepped aside, pointing towards the bed. “Please, have a seat.”

His face got even redder, if that was possible.

“B-B-But Mademoiselle– it would be inappropriate to enter your room like that, when we’re alone–“

“Please.”

“Of course!”

He rushed in awkwardly as if that wasn’t his own house. You didn’t bother to close the door again – if the idea of being alone with you made him so uncomfortable, it was best to leave it open. Henri sat on the edge of the bed while blinking rapidly for some reason. His breathing also looked irregular. Was he feeling unwell?

“Can you show me your wound?” You asked. Henri widened his eyes again.

“Mademoiselle… hm…”

“Trust me.” You were running impatient.

Henri hesitated, but ended up taking off his coat and pushing his blouse to expose the bandages. You turned around to take something from the dressing table. When you turned around holding a pair of scissors, Henri got pale.

He was a bit of a chameleon.

Henri was about to protest again, but the look you sent him made him gulp and go quiet. You stood in front of him to carefully cut the bandages away and expose the gashes on his shoulder. They were properly cleaned and stitched up, but even so you could still see how horribly that vampire hurt him. If Henri’s head was centimeters closer to the vampire’s claws… he wouldn’t be here right now to change colors anymore.

Henri gasped when you brought the blade of the scissors and cut your own palm.

“Mademoiselle–!”

“Shh.”

He swallowed his words.

You hoped to be right. That had to work.

Carefully, you pressed your bleeding palm over his wounds.

Henri hissed. Your hand moved slowly to spread the blood over the entire surface of the gashes. The sight was unpleasant, to say the least… but it was less disgusting than making him drink your blood.

Please, work. Please, work.

Nothing changed at first.

But then, Henri gasped – and you gasped, too.

Your palm pressed over his wounds – your blood started to glow faintly. It took a strange golden color, as if it became melted gold.

Both of you watched in awe as Henri’s wounds started to heal right in front of your eyes.

He seemed out of breath. He frowned and hissed and you knew he was probably hurting because you knew that feeling. You stood upright and stepped away from him in slight shock.

The threads that were used to stitch the gashes fell over his lap.

Henri touched his own shoulder hesitantly. He pressed his fingers over it, massaged it. There was no sign that it was previously hurt… not even a scar.

You learned that your blood was valuable to her.

Why keep you around? Why keep you locked with guards holding you at all times? Why drag you along anywhere she went?

That was the answer to one of the questions that plagued your existence.

Henri was healed.

Finally, he rose his amazed eyes towards you.

“Miss Ruby… h-how did…?”

Then, he looked at something behind you and got pale again.

You turned around.

Alucard stood by the door, watching the scene with an astonished expression.

You locked eyes. With that simple gaze, you saw that he understood the situation completely.

One piece of the puzzle that hid your mysterious past was solved.

“...Why is he talking funny?” You whispered in Annette’s ear.

She quirked one eyebrow up and looked towards Juste, who stood not far from where you were sitting.

A smirk crept up her lips. “He’s drunk.”

Juste Belmont, Richter’s grandfather who you only saw briefly at his destroyed cottage, swayed slightly as if he stood on water, though the ground at the sides of the Seinne were clearly cobblestones. His eyes were half lidded, his speech slower and a bit difficult to understand. He held a wooden cup full of beer and talked to some unknown men who seemed to be in a similar state as him.

At your obvious confusion, Annette frowned. “Have you never been drunk?”

“I don’t know what that is, I’m afraid.”

Annette looked more confused than you. She eyed the bottle of the (not very good) wine you’d been sharing for the past hour or so. “Well, I’m surprised… given how much you’ve been drinking. You don’t feel anything strange at all? A certain dizziness? A sudden happiness?”

You put your hand over your own stomach and frowned. “No. Was I supposed to?”

She rested her face on her palm. “A normal person would be supposed to… but I guess your healing ability doesn’t even let you get drunk.” A small chuckle went past her lips. “It’s what happens when someone drinks too much of an alcoholic beverage. They lose their senses, get dizzy, sometimes end up saying or doing things they wouldn’t do when they’re sane…”

“Oh.” Funnily enough, you knew how that felt – but it didn’t have anything to do with alcohol… just extreme levels of “sun magic”, apparently. “I didn’t know wine has alcohol. It doesn’t feel much different than juice to me.” You quirked one eyebrow up. “Does juice have alcohol?”

“No. Hopefully no.” She shook her head. It seemed that Annette thought your confusion over some things amused her, much like Alucard. She looked ahead again. “Getting drunk is not always bad, you know. Sometimes it helps you lift your spirits.”

You looked ahead too, back to where Juste and his new friends laughed at the top of their lungs at something you didn’t hear, and silently wished you could get drunk if it’d make you laugh like that.

It was… strange, to say the least, how the night in Paris was so lively. Streets were crowded and well lit, laughter and music filled the air as citizens celebrated. Men, women, young or old – the entire city decided to go outside and have a huge party. It didn’t even seem that a literal war broke out only a few hours ago. Most of the rubble hadn’t even been collected.

It was like no one cared. Which, in your opinion, was a bit heartless, given how many lives were lost. But it seems they were just happy that the person who threatened their freedom was dead.

Well. You should be happy too. More than anyone.

Why weren’t you celebrating with them?

You craved freedom for as long as you could remember. More than that… you craved relief. But turns out, deep down, you never thought that day would actually come, and now that it did, you just didn’t know how to react. So your body and feelings just decided to freeze in this strange state.

The others seemed happy – well, maybe except for Maria, the blonde girl in pink. She talked a bit with Annette and Juste, but resigned herself to be quiet most of the time with perpetual melancholy over her features. From what you knew, Maria had lost her mother the day you met Alucard, so her actions were understandable.

Richter bounced back between talking to Juste and Annette. The black haired girl still seemed a bit apprehensive about something, but other than that, she was much more relaxed than what you’d known of her. And Alucard… he was somewhere. He left the house with everyone, but quickly got caught up in conversation with some generals you’d seen before.

So there you were. Sitting on a bench with Annette by your side, watching Paris celebrate the death of the Vampire Messiah, while you felt that you couldn’t even move.

It was overwhelming. And a bit uncomfortable.

Turns out you hadn’t really gotten used to crowds… it seems it’s not something that would change over just a few days. Many men you met the day before came to greet you with wide smiles in their faces (now that Annette had explained, you figured most of them were probably drunk too). Of course, you were happy anytime you recognized a face – one more soldier that hadn’t fallen. But at at some point… you didn’t want to talk anymore, or force smiles, or try to pay attention to whatever they were trying to say.

So you decided to sit with Annette for a while in this somehow hidden spot. It seemed she didn’t want to mix with the people as well. You wondered if it had anything to do with what Alucard explained about her past and her homeland…

Which made you remember something else – something you’d been hesitating to ask.

You straightened your back and cleaned your throat. “Hm, Annette… can I ask you something?” She looked at you and nodded. “Do you remember what you said or did while… well… while Sekhmet possessed you?”

She narrowed her eyes and looked down, touching her temples with her fingertips. “Not exactly. I remember what happened while I was in the spirit world… but even these memories are a bit vague in some parts. Like the memories of a dream.” She rested her hand back over her lap. “It’s always like that when I wander there.”

“So you weren’t really here while Sekhmet had your body?” Annette shook her head. Your shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Oh. I understand.”

She tilted her head. “Why you ask?”

“Sekhmet said something strange about me.” You avoided her eyes. Although they shared the same face, Annette had nothing to do with Sekhmet and the feral glare she sent you at that moment. “She said I should not be close to her.”

“What? Why?”

“She didn’t explain. That’s why I hoped maybe you’d have a hint… since you shared a body.”

Annette held her chin in a pensive expression. “...I have no idea, I’m sorry. But if I remember something relevant from when I was in the spirit world, I’ll tell you right away.”

You thanked her quietly and looked ahead again. You couldn’t blame her. Annette had asked how that flash of sunlight happened, how the scepter worked – and similarly to her, you had no answers.

Richter was, once again, approaching with a smile on his face. Perhaps that was the little push you needed to move. Whenever he came around, you felt that you were… interrupting. It wasn’t the first time you felt like that around them, but the situation became a little bit more intense. Maybe you really were interrupting, maybe they wanted some time for themselves but didn’t want to be rude.

So you finally decided to get up.

“I’m tired... I’ll head back now.”

Annette seemed a bit worried. “Do you want me to walk back with you?”

Again, you couldn’t blame her for being worried, not after all she had seen of you – acting like a frightened little mouse all the time. You shook your head and managed to open a small (fake) smile. “No, thank you. The house is just two streets away… I promise to not get lost.”

Annette hesitated… but it seems she understood you wanted to be left alone.

“Okay. Take care.”

You nodded and turned around, not waiting to greet Richter. It also made you feel a bit like that frightened little mouse again, but there was another reason why you felt confident enough to walk these two streets alone. The red string around your right wrist. You decided to keep it there, the same way you decided to take the red disk – scepter – with you wherever you went. The idea of it being taken from you was enough to keep you on your toes at all times.

You walked past couples, families, friends, children – talking, drinking, dancing, running around. You wished you wouldn’t feel this disconnected from their reality. No… it was a bit more complicated than that. You wished you had a family, a real past, more good memories than bad ones. Perhaps if you had these things… you wouldn’t feel so distant or lost or empty.

As much as you’d been avoiding to sleep, you assumed that sleeping right now would ease your feelings a bit.

That was when something very subtle tingled on your wrist.

You looked down in time to see the red string untying itself and falling.

Frowning, you crouched and took it from the floor again. Had you accidentally brushed on someone–?

If anything happens, anything at all, untie this string. Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.

Your eyes widened.

You looked around frantically.

Finally – you found him.

Alucard stood alone on one of the many bridges over the Seinne not very far from where you were. He was difficult to find at first, but as soon as your eyes locked on him, everyone else became blurred. He leaned both forearms over the stone railing in a relaxed position; his face held the serenity you were already used to. It’s like he was deep in thought. The soft night breeze played with his white hair. He looked down at the river.

His red string swayed with the wind, too. Untied. He held it between his fingers.

Your heart stopped beating for a second.

You stood there, unable to move, as if your body finally remembered how to feel something, how to not be distant. You gulped, gripped the sun disk a little tighter.

Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.

Alucard noticed you were avoiding him. Well, it was quite impossible not to notice. He didn’t make any attempts to approach you (you quite literally ran away from him earlier after the new discovery about your blood). But that… that was a very clear message.

A quiet invitation.

So you took a deep breath, trying to calm your stupid racing heart. Why were you scared? That was Alucard. You knew Alucard. He was never mean to you, never made you feel bad intentionally. You had faced a city full of vampires earlier that day… talking to him was nothing compared to that.

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

You walked towards him.

You didn’t rush. You held the disk tightly, keeping it close to your stomach, the red string tangled around your palm. It seemed that your heart thundered louder on your ears with every step. It was like the world got blurrier and blurrier except for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you stood by his side.

Two steps away. You looked down at the river, too.

Silence.

You weren’t brave enough to look at him. Alucard didn’t move, didn’t say anything. But… just like before, his quiet serenity enveloped you, made the celebration noises a bit distant.

It didn’t calm your raging heart this time.

It took you a while to understand that Alucard was waiting for you to speak up first. But he called me here. Doesn’t he have anything to say? Why should I be the one to speak first?!

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

You gulped.

“I…” Your voice cracked a bit. You felt the urge to jump in the river and drown. “I don’t know how they have the energy to celebrate. It… doesn’t feel appropriate.”

Alucard sighed.

“The grieving families for sure aren’t out here.” Goosebumps roamed your skin when his calm husky voice reached your ears. “France is far from reaching real peace in the next few years… let them celebrate for now.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes glued to the river down there. It reflected the golden lights of the lanterns on the margins beautifully.

Come on, don’t be scared. Don’t be embarrassed. Come on. Come on. Come on.

You took what you had kept inside the sleeve of your dress hesitantly.

“A-Actually, I… I wanted to give you this.”

You turned to Alucard for the first time. He was already looking at you.

He looked down at the carefully folded handkerchief you offered him with both hands.

His expressions changed subtly. At first, confusion; then, surprise.

Then… a small smile.

You cleared your throat. “G-Give it back, actually. Since I ruined yours… I don’t know if it’s the same fabric, but it looks similar to the one you had.”

Alucard chuckled and took the handkerchief with care. When his fingers brushed yours, you felt more goosebumps.

“There was no need… but thank you. It is very thoughtful.”

You managed to smile, but turned to the river again before your face started burning.

With the corner of your eyes, you saw him put the handkerchief inside his coat and lean over the railing again. He was not wearing his cape. There was something different about him… perhaps because immediate danger wasn’t lurking anymore, Alucard felt comfortable enough to actually relax, and it reflected on his body and face.

You taped your pointer finger over the sun disk nervously. “How’s your wound?” You blurted out, desperate to not fall in an awkward silence.

Alucard instinctively touched his left shoulder. “Healed.” He looked at you again. “What about you?”

Oh fuck. He was addressing the elephant in the room – your strange state that made you weirder and braver than usual. Please do not mention the hug. Please please please please.

Once more, you avoided his gaze. “...Back to normal, I believe.” I hope is what you wanted to say, but perhaps it would’ve been a little rude.

“Do you have any idea of why that happened to you?”

You tightened your lips and frowned a bit.

You will burn from inside out.

It’s what the unknown female voice told you.

“I believe… I was doing something wrong at first.” You started hesitantly. “The magic. I was conjuring it in an incorrect way. I think my mistake harmed me. Burning me from inside out.”

Alucard hummed and held his chin.

“So it backfires. Magic so powerful should have its side effects.” Alucard seemed hesitant. “If it harms you… you should consider not doing it unless absolutely necessary.”

“No! It was just at first. I… figured it out later.” The thought made you tighten your grip around the sun disk by instinct. “Though, to be honest, I feel that that specific ritual shouldn’t be used in excess.”

Alucard’s eyes followed your grip. He quirked one eyebrow up slightly.

“I was meaning to ask you about this, too.” You handed him the sun disk right away, to which he took and raised to his eye level. “So the staff retracts. How did you figure it out?”

You shrugged. “It just felt right.”

Alucard grinned while handing it back to you. “It seems you’re remembering a lot of things.”

“...I’m not sure. It’s like I told you before… knowledge. Not memories.”

The white-haired vampire leaned on the railing again and looked into the distance. His expression got a bit more serious.

“I was thinking of what you told me. It reminded me of something.” Alucard seemed to hesitate. “...My parents were doctors. Both of them. My father, specifically, had a bit of a fascination for the mysteries of the human brain. He dedicated many studies and experiments to it. Wrote entire books.” Whenever Alucard mentioned anything about his father, it was like nothing else in the world mattered. You were completely focused. “From his many theses… he got to the conclusion that memories and abilities are stored in different areas of the brain. That could be why when someone suffers from memory loss, they still know how to speak, read, write… they know how to function.”

Your eyes widened at each word that left his mouth. “...Just like me.” Alucard nodded. You instinctively touched your own head. “So maybe this part of my brain is damaged?”

“Could be.”

“But why isn’t it healing back?”

Alucard hesitated.

“I believe we’ll figure it out soon.” You wanted to ask what the hell he meant by that, but Alucard decided to change topics drastically. “Talking about healing… did you tell anyone about what happened?”

Oh.

The absolute shocking news you discovered earlier that day, but that seemed pale at that moment in comparison with your nervousness to speak with him.

“No.” You shook your head. “But I was thinking… Richter’s burns are pretty bad. Maybe I could help him… or maybe if I knew where Mizrak is, I could save him...”

“Ruby.”

He put his hand over your shoulder – which made you swallow your words.

Quiet worry coated his features.

“I understand you want to help. But you should also understand that the properties of your blood are extremely rare and extremely valuable. It will put a target on your head again. So… the less people know about it, the better.” He dropped his hand from your shoulder. “Also… if in order to heal someone you end up getting hurt, I don’t see why you should do it.”

“But I always–“

“I know.” He interrupted you softly. “I know you do. That doesn’t mean you should hurt yourself willingly.” Alucard pressed his lips. “...Blood is life, Ruby. Don’t give your life away so easily.”

You sighed heavily and crossed your arms. “I guess you’re right. Henri knows about it, though.”

“He won’t tell anyone.” Alucard sounded way too certain about that.

It was your turn to lean on the stone railing, You looked down at the river. The pacific sound of the non-stopping flowing waters muffled the other noises – uncountable voices and music. You wondered if Alucard attracted you here on purpose… a place where you could focus on a single calming sound.

And perhaps that calmness gave you courage to ask the question you wanted to ask the most.

“What are you going to do now, Alucard?” Your voice was hesitant. Fragile, even… “Erzsebet and Drolta are dead. Your five year mission is over…”

Of course, you knew he and the others had no responsibility over you. You were well aware. And yet, the simple thought of being left alone frightened you. The idea that Alucard would wake up tomorrow and simply go away, and the others would go back to Machecoul, and Annette would cross the ocean back to Saint-Domingue… all of that was frightening.

You wanted to be free, not alone.

And the thought that you might never see Alucard again was even more frightening.

Should you have been attached to him so easily after just a few days? Was that correct or normal? You had no idea. What you knew was that Alucard was the first person to offer kindness and protection and understanding, and you didn’t want him out of your life so soon.

But that was not up to you.

So all you could do was ask.

Alucard leaned on the railing too. He was closer this time. Just one step away, not two.

“I think I should be making this question.” He said softly. “What are you going to do now that you’re free?”

A dry, humorless chuckle escaped past your lips. That wasn’t funny, however.

“I don’t have a family. Or a past, or a name. I don’t know where I came from or where should I go next. I don’t know why my blood heals, why I can read this language, where did this scepter come from… I don’t know anything.” You hated how fragile and bitter your voice sounded, but that couldn’t be helped. “...Is this even freedom at all?”

Alucard kept silent for long, respectful moments.

Then, he sighed deeply.

“There is only one place in the world where we could decode this language.” He pointed towards the sun disk.

You looked at him with a frown.

“There is only one place in the world where we might find out why you heal… and where does your strange magic comes from.”

Expectation bubbled within your chest.

“What place is it?”

Alucard closed his eyes for a moment. It was just a glimpse, but you had the impression that he didn’t really like what he was about to say.

But then, he opened his eyes to look at you – and his golden irises had nothing but kindness and quiet care, and the lanterns cast a soft glow over his features and white hair, and truly – he was so beautiful that it was almost painful to look at.

“My home.” He tilted his head to the sides. “...What used to be my home, at least.” Alucard straightened his back. “I’m making you an invitation, Ruby.”

Your heart raced. Your mouth got dry. Your eyes widened slowly.

“Do you want to… help me?” You, for some reason, sounded amazed. Why is it? Has anyone been more willing to help you than Alucard?

Alucard smiled and nodded – and, at that moment, with that simple motion, he seemed to ease all the worries of your soul.

“I do. I will. Let’s find out who you really are, Ruby.” Alucard rested his hand over yours… and once again, it didn’t burn.

It warmed.

“Let’s go to Dracula’s castle.”

[kimvvantae]

Aurora; 12 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 8k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!! PHEW. It's been a while. I know I'm posting it at a random hour but I needed to get this chapter off my chest. I explained on tumblr why it took me so long to update. To be honest my cat is still in a bad shape and I'm still absurdly worried about her… but oh well, I needed to post this chapter to think of something else for a while, at least. So it'd be very kind of you to leave a comment to help me not freak out about my cat :)

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

You’re tired of fighting.

Your limbs are heavy, your throat burns, bruises cover your skin. Still, you try to run.

It’s useless. The two women dragging you inside the tomb are way stronger – unnaturally stronger than a human being should be. You growl like an animal, you kick and try to punch and claw anything on your reach. It’s still useless. The piece of cloth tightly wrapped around your mouth prevents you from speaking anything coherent.

The corridor opens to a big hall. The place is ancient, it is brightly illuminated by many torches. Strange paintings cover the walls and tall columns. There is a platform and something that looks like an altar ahead of you. On their sides, there are tall ceramic vases, five on each side. Sitting at the right side of the altar, there is a statue: the body of a female, the head of a lion, wielding a spear.

There is a woman standing on top of the platform.

A violent shiver runs down your spine. You know that woman… she was the first thing you saw when you woke up. If she didn’t exude cruelty and malice, maybe you would’ve thought she is beautiful: her tall stature, her long curly dark brown hair, her full lips and pink irises… but you know better. There is nothing good about that woman except her appearance.

She wears a similar white tunic as the other women in the hall, but is the only one wearing a golden headpiece, a thick necklace and many bracelets. Her expression isn’t cruel and mocking at the moment like you’ve seen her before. She just looks serious.

And there’s that other thing on the altar, too.

It… it resembles a woman, but you’re not sure: as pale as a cadaver, contrasting with the warmer skin tones of all the other women inside the tomb; its hair is long, straight and red, resembling a lion’s mane. The creature is… strangely tall, its arms and legs are disproportional to the rest of the body. It’s completely naked – you see the rags of what probably was its clothes scattered around the altar.

And it looks sick.

It’s way too skinny. Its ribs are very clearly outlined on the skin. Its cheeks are profound; its red eyes have heavy dark circles around them. Its whole body is trembling, its breathing is irregular. It drools like a sick dog.

And they are pulling you towards it.

After the initial shock, you begin to kick and scream again, but it’s still useless. You don’t want to be anywhere near that thing. It smells awful, it’s uncanny and scary and violently unnatural…

The other woman – who appears to be some sort of leader – grips you by the arm and drags you closer to that creature. She is even stronger than the other two who held you previously. She says something in a language you don’t understand.

You scream again. You try to pull your arm back, you try to claw her–

She squeezes your arm.

An agonizing yell erupts from your throat. Tears well up your eyes. Your legs fail.

You could hear the sound of your bones cracking under her grip.

That creature holds you this time. It pants like an animal. Even through the pain, you try to push it away – but it is useless.

Its long fingers entangle around the hair at the back of your head; it pushes it, forcing your head back and exposing your neck. It open its mouth wide, its horrible fangs approaching…

When it bites your neck, you can’t scream anymore; its jaws completely block your trachea. You gag, your eyes pop wide. There’s a suction noise… it is sucking your blood, you realize with horror. Your good hand still tries to pull its hair, but once again, it is useless… extreme weakness roams your body. The world twirls as every bit of strength disappears. Your head hurts as if someone had just hammered it.

Finally, it lets you go. You fall flat on the floor.

Your vision is blurred and darkening. You can’t move anymore. Your arm and your neck hurt so, so bad. And yet, you have time to see something before completely blacking out.

The creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.

It is indeed a woman, not a thing.

She sighs contently and stretches her arms.

The world fades away.

Notre Dame’s high vaulted ceiling was indeed impressive.

How long did it take to build such a magnificent structure? How many workers were necessary? Who must’ve planned the building? How did they know that something so big wouldn’t crumble? Who must’ve crafted the beautiful stained glasses that colored the walls as sunshine touched them?

You had no idea.

You didn’t know why you were staring at it, either.

Your senses came back rather slowly. Voices… steps… everything echoed within the cathedral. The place you were laid at was uncomfortable… a wooden bench. One of the many you’d seen previously. Now that the place was properly lit by sunlight, it didn’t look as eerie as before.

Finally, you decided to sit up.

The great hall was full. The benches weren’t perfectly lined as before, which made you remember that Jules and the monks had used them to barricade the doors. You quickly realized that the injured in battle were brought inside the cathedral, where women priestesses wearing black tunics that covered their heads helped them (you heard two distinctive words: sister and nun. Was that the name of their position?). You saw them running from side to side, holding bloody pieces of cloth and water basins. Other civilian women were helping with medical aid as well.

No known face in sight.

Immediate nervousness set in your guts. Where was everybody? Why were you laying there?

This nervousness vanished in two seconds, however, when a familiar voice called.

You turned your head to see Charles, Jules and Henri rushing to where you were. You almost sighed in relief; Jules didn’t look seriously injured and Henri’s right shoulder was properly bandaged, though he still looked way too pale and tired. All of them looked worn out, in fact, with their uniforms ragged in some spots and blood stains here and there.

“Mademoiselle! You’re–“

“You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“I’ll call for help! Sister! Please–“

You immediately raised your palm in Charle’s direction. “No, please. I am fine. I don’t need medical aid, thank you.”

The three boys sat down. They silently battled to see who would take their place by your side – Henri ended up winning. The other two sat on the bench in front of you, frowning at the ginger boy.

“What happened? Where is Alucard?” You asked.

“You passed out, Miss Ruby.” Charles explained. Jules elbowed him and angry whispered don’t call her by her name, you’re not her close friend!. “Mr. Alucard brought you down. After he checked that you weren’t hurt, he let you rest and left to care for the troops… he told us to take care of you–“

“He told me to take care of you.” Jules hissed again.

“He didn’t address you, we were all present at that moment…”

But their incessant arguing didn’t catch your attention, because you remembered someone and it immediately made your heart race.

“Mizrak!” You looked around, searching for his familiar face between the injured. “Where is Mizrak?!”

They eyed each other hesitantly.

“The monk, isn’t it?” Jules asked. You nodded. “He… he disappeared, Mademoiselle. He just weren’t there when we opened the doors again.”

“He might’ve crawled somewhere else,” Charles tried to calm you down. “There are other points in the city were the injured are being taken care of.”

“He’s a strong man, isn’t he? I-I’m sure he’s alright, somewhere…” Henri didn’t sound confident at all, however.

You instinctively gripped the fabric of your skirt. How could he just have disappeared? No one simply disappears. His wound was beyond serious, it needed immediate medical assistance. What if a vampire had dragged him away, fed from his corpse? What if he died because of you?

Which made you remember something else, for some reason. Your eyes popped wide once again.

“My scepter? Where is it?” Once again, you looked at your sides.

“My” scepter. Why did you claim it as yours so instinctively?

It just… felt right to do so.

“It’s under the bench, mademoiselle,” Henri pointed. You rushed to grab it, almost sighing in relief. Something so shiny would definitely attract thieves if you weren’t careful.

The three boys were engaged in some conversation. They were asking you questions, in fact, about what happened exactly at the top of the bell tower, where did that light come from, but you weren’t paying attention, focusing your eyes on the golden artifact instead.

You had already noticed it before – but the staff had a very subtle cone format. It got a bit thinner on the other end.

You brushed your fingers around it. The scepter… it didn’t look that unfamiliar anymore.

There was a small spot on the base of it, near the sun symbol. You pressed your thumb over it.

And then – the staff retracted.

It emitted a soft metallic sound as the entire length of the staff fit into itself. Now, you just held a disk – the sun symbol – that was a little larger than your hand, with ninety percent of the staff reduced to a small handle.

The four of you went immediately silent in shock.

“Wow.” Jules exclaimed. “How did you do this?”

“I don’t know.”

“It retracted perfectly,” Henri said in awe. “It’s an engineering masterpiece!”

They began to discuss between themselves again, and as much as you didn’t really mind their company, they were starting to bring you headaches. They reminded you a bit of a pack of turkeys – if one made a noise, all the others repeated.

“Gentlemen,” your voice immediately stopped their incessant talking. They looked at your with attention. You held the sun disk with both hands and rested them over your lap. “I didn’t have the opportunity to properly thank you all yet. Without your efforts, I would’ve never arrived here… and I don’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if I didn’t. All of you saved uncountable lives today.” You managed to open a small smile while passing your eyes by each of the three. “Thank you so much.”

They got speechless for once.

You watched as their lips curved up into grins. Jules massaged the back of his neck sheepishly, Charles stuffed his chest like a bird, Henri got redder than a tomato. It was funny how these three were only big in size; in your eyes, they weren’t much far from the other three little boys you met in Paris.

You were also a bit surprised at your own speech. A week ago, you would’ve never even imagined yourself speaking with quiet confidence like that… you didn’t stutter once, which honestly felt great.

Finally, you stood up, being followed by them.

“Do you know where Alucard and the others are?”

Of course they knew. Of course they wouldn’t let you make your way there on your own.

The three guided you outside of the cathedral once again talking incessantly. You resigned yourself to replying with short sentences anytime a question was asked, way too focused on analyzing the destruction of the city. There was blood everywhere. The area around Notre Dame specifically was full of night creature carcasses; volunteers worked on grabbing them to throw them in a bonfire nearby. The streets were crowded as citizens helped clean the city, bring down the rubble barricades, measure the damage, or simply went back to their homes and establishments.

It was strange to see everything under the sunshine… and to think that just one or two hours ago, you were running around these streets, trying to survive vampire attacks, feeling the deepest fear you’ve ever felt – and trying to brush it aside. You had managed to, somehow… something unthinkable for the person you were a week ago.

...Had you really changed this much in a few days, or you were simply allowed to be yourself for the first time in your life?

“...What I’m trying to say, Mademoiselle,” Henri’s nervous voice caught your attention for the first time. He sent an angry glance towards the other two before looking at you with expectation. “D-Do you have a house in Paris?”

“No.”

“Great! I-I mean–“ he cleaned his throat and put his hand over his chest. “If you need a place to stay – to spend the night, perhaps – you are more than welcome in my house. It’s not far from here. We have enough rooms and food for you. A-And Mr. Alucard, of course,” he giggled nervously.

You half expected the other two to offer their homes as well, but they didn’t, to your surprise. They just looked at him with what looked like jealousy.

Before you could answer, you arrived at a great square – and you forgot about the three.

“Excuse me,” you said before rushing towards Annette.

The square had many people walking from here to there, dragging rubble or just watching – but you didn’t care. Annette is alive! More than that, she looked fine. The dark haired girl spotted you as well and rushed, meeting you halfway.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Where is Richter?” You blurted out, immediately searching for injuries with your eyes. Annette chuckled and held your arms delicately.

“I’m fine. We’re both fine. What about you?” She quirked one eyebrow up. “I heard you unleashed some terrifying magic.”

She lowered her eyes to the sun disk you held. You immediately avoided her gaze, feeling sheepish. “Well, I… I don’t really know how to explain what happened.”

Annette shrugged. “Neither do I.”

“Where’s Richter?” You repeated and started to turn around. Annette, for some reason, widened her eyes and was about to hold you back again…

“Wait–“

She tried, but it was already too late.

The first thing you saw was Alucard, standing at a good distance.

He was eyeing you intently. Juste Belmont was by his side – how and when did he arrive in Paris? – wearing an elegant long red coat.

When your eyes crossed his, your entire body froze.

What happened at the bell tower…

It felt as if your entire face was on fire. Heavens, you hugged him – you actually hugged him, you entangled your arms around his neck and cried like a child. You certainly were not in your right mind to do something so… so… so…!

But then, you looked at something else – the thing Annette was worried that you’d see – and all the other thoughts ceased.

Your stomach dropped.

A big bonfire was being formed by civilians bringing rubble; it was more than two meters tall, perhaps. In between the pieces of wood, there were corpses – the vampires that didn’t turn to ashes during the flash of sunlight.

And the biggest corpse of them all…

You instinctively stepped back.

Erzsebet Bathory.

She didn’t look like herself anymore. She was even taller than what you remembered, her red hair longer, her face distorted in animalistic traits… one arm had been chopped off. She had many bruises and injuries. Her cheeks were hollow, her mouth wide open in a perpetual expression of shock and pain.

Erzsebet Bathory was dead.

No mistakes this time, Alucard had said.

The sight of her destroyed, lifeless corpse made your stomach twirl. And once again, you hated the effect this woman had upon you even in death, even with you looking at her in that state. It felt like she would suddenly screech and launch herself at you like so many times before. You could almost feel her claws gnawing your skin, her fangs sinking in your neck…

She is dead. She is dead. She can’t hurt me anymore. She is dead.

Annette’s soft touch on your shoulder brought you back to reality. She looked at you with worry.

“Do you remember what I told you?” She asked quietly.

And when we defeat Erzsebet, justice will be done.

You closed your eyes for a moment and sighed.

“Yes. I’ll… I’ll be fine.” You reassured her. You weren’t fine at that moment, but you would be.

Finally, you spotted Richter walking towards you both. He looked very injured – he had multiple burns on both arms, the sleeves of his blue jacket had been ripped. He was limping and looked very tired, yet still managed to open a small smile to you.

He carried a long piece of wood. The tip had been draped with pieces of cloth.

His small smile vanished. He looked down at you with solemnity.

“You arrived at the right time, Ruby.” Richter looked down at the wood he held. “We believe… you deserve to be the one to do it.”

You finally understood.

That was a torch.

You gulped, your body got tense. Even so, you nodded accordingly. You wouldn’t be able to speak even if you tried.

Richter summoned a ball of blue fire in his hand and ignited the torch. You shoved the sun disk inside your vest and held the torch with both hands.

You took a deep breath before approaching the pyre.

The square stopped to watch the scene.

Erzsebet’s corpse was horrendous, disgusting. You decided to not avoid your gaze from it. You bent slightly, making the tip of the torch touch the wood at the base of the pyre. The fire spread rapidly.

You stepped away and watched.

The people at the square cheered at the sight of the so-called Vampire Messiah burning. Your world, however, was quiet. All you could hear were the sounds of the wood cackling, the flames increasing and consuming everything in the pyre. You watched with attention as the fire consumed Erzsebet’s corpse; it burned her skin, her hair, muscles and bones. And a part of you was grateful to be left alone – Alucard, Annette, Richter and the three boys decided to stand away.

Erzsebet was dead. Definitely.

She used to be your world merely a week ago. Everything revolved around her: your fear, your hopelessness, your hatred, your self-loathing, your confusion. You were just a shadow of a person, an empty fragile shell on the verge of breaking apart. She was your world – and your world was dark, cold, bloody and lonely.

Things were slowly changing now.

You learned that the real world also had place for colors. For kindness, friendship, perseverance and freedom. The real world was not a perfect place, but it was vast; and its vastness for sure should have a place for you somewhere – a place were you wouldn’t be hurt anymore.

At that moment, you decided that you would never cry for her again.

You had already cried enough. She had forced you to dedicate your entire existence for her. You knew that your wounds were way too deep to be forgotten, you knew that the scars that would come from them would be ugly and impossible to ignore. You knew that it wouldn’t be fast and easy to overcome your fears and all the disgusting memories she dug into your soul.

But even so, you decided not to cry.

She had taken enough from you.

When her skeleton was visible, you turned your back to the pyre.

Richter was leaning on Annette for support, his arm resting over her shoulders while she hugged him from the side. You approached them hesitantly.

Annette still looked worried.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

You looked down at your bloody sleeve.

“Disgusting. I need a bath.” Finally, you lifted your gaze again. “A friend of mine can help us out.”

You quickly found out why the other two boys didn’t offer their houses as well.

Henri was the son of a judge, who was apparently intimately tied to the leaderships of the Revolutionaries. His house was far from being as luxurious as the chateau in Machecoul (you figured that if Henri’s father had a house like that, he’d be next in the guillotine line), but it was still bigger and more comfortable than the average home anyway, located at the heart of Paris.

Henri had offered you (and Alucard as an afterthought) a shelter… but you figured he wouldn’t mind if you brought other visitors as well.

Right?

Well, his father certainly didn’t mind. The middle-aged man thanked Alucard over a hundred times, his eyes gleaming as if he stood in front of a golden statue, babbling how he was thankful for his help. Alucard listened patiently, but you were around him for long enough to start noticing his very subtle expression changes.

You remembered his opinion about the leaders of the Revolutionaries…

Well.

The rest of the group was more than happy to have a place to stay for a while, so there wasn’t really what to argue here.

“Stay for as long as you like!” Henri’s father repeated for the hundredth time while guiding everyone inside. “We have enough bedrooms, enough food… well, perhaps not enough clothes, but I’ll figure it out in no time! Tell me whatever you need and I’ll have it ready. All I have to offer is little compared to what you did to save our nation today!”

Alucard resigned himself to offer him a nod.

Before the white-haired vampire could focus on you, you immediately accepted a maid’s offer to get upstairs and have a bath.

...You didn’t know why you were avoiding him. Not exactly. Perhaps embarrassment? You’d never been deliberately touchy with anyone like that before. Well, you weren’t in your right mind at that moment for whatever reason. Maybe you crossed a boundary? Maybe you went too far? Alucard didn’t push you away, however – but he wasn’t one to be rude anyway… at the same time, it’s not like Alucard wasn’t someone that didn’t know how to establish boundaries. The fact that he didn’t push you away had to mean something, right?

He hugged you back, in fact.

He rested his face on your shoulder and didn’t move.

You felt his hot breath on your neck and his large hand softly caressing your back.

For the second time, he held you until you fell asleep.

Your face was burning hot.

Suddenly, for unknown reasons, you felt as if you were exposed again, as if there was a crowd watching you with scrutiny even though there was no one else besides the maid in the room. You felt burning embarrassment crawl over your skin and it burnt almost as much as the strange magic of the scepter. For the first time in your life, you dismissed a maid’s offer to help you bathe and decided to do it yourself.

And then you were alone in the bedroom, but you still felt strange and exposed and oh heavens you were disgusting. Sweaty, dried blood covered your skin. You got rid of those layers of clothes and sat inside the wooden bathtub – it was smaller than what you were used to, the water wasn’t as warm, there weren’t bath salts, only a bar of soap.

Erzsebet chose the bath salts you’d bathe in. She liked flowery fragrances.

And then you remembered that you still smelled of her, that her disgustingly sweet smell was mixed with the smell of blood and sweat, and then you were scrubbing yourself with the sponge and soap vehemently.

You scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, watching the foam spread over your skin. You scrubbed your arms and chest and legs and stomach and feet. But the smell wouldn’t go away, so you scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. You scrubbed until your skin started to hurt. That pain made you remember the sight of Erzsebet burning in the pyre, the sight of her skin boiling and melting from her bones – which, for some reason, made you scrub harder. You weren’t planning to, but you ended up untying your hair and washing it too, scratching your scalp with soap in frenetic movements because that bad smell was probably in your hair, too.

You scrubbed your own body until you were tired, until the water became actually cold, until your arms hurt from the repetitive movements. You stood inside the tub with water on your knees, the naked upper part of your body shaking in cold, and watched as blood dripped from the scratches you had inflicted on your own thighs. Perhaps… perhaps too much scrubbing. How did that even happen?

You sniffed your hair. Your skin. It didn’t smell of flowers anymore.

Just soap.

So you finally got out of the tub and wrapped yourself in a towel.

When the maid entered the bedroom with a fresh change of clothes, you avoided eye contact with her. She explained that the dress was Henri’s sister’s and perhaps it wouldn’t fit, but she already had a box of threads and needles to make adjustments. It wasn’t an intricate ball gown, but it wasn’t a simple dress either. It had cream and light green tones with pink flowers peppered around the corset and skirt. The dress was light and comfortable. It didn’t require many adjustments.

The maid offered herself to brush and style your hair, to which you politely declined. She probably wouldn’t be aggressive the way you were used to, but… no. Not right now.

When the maid left, you sat in front of the dressing table… and stayed there for a while. Disheveled damp hair fell over your shoulders. It was probably wetting the back of the dress. You didn’t care.

You stared at your own reflection for the first time in days.

The morning Alucard appeared in your life, you were doing just that – watching your reflection. Scrutinizing yourself. You didn’t look different. But, at the same time, there was something different about you – and you couldn’t tell exactly what.

You still had no past or family or name… but you weren’t just a bird in a cage anymore either, nor a lamb obediently walking to its slaughter night after night.

You were free.

It was scary.

What were you going to do from now on? You were actually alone. You owned nothing, and it was pretty clear that in order to survive in this world, you’d need some gold or coins or… whatever the currency was. You couldn’t assume Henri would let you live under his shelter forever and you weren’t innocent enough to not understand what it meant to stay.

You were nobody.

The others? They accepted you because you were a link to Erzsebet’s powers, an upper hand. Now their enemies were dead. They had no responsibility over you… you shouldn’t assume that they would take care of you like you were a child.

As humiliating as it might be, you felt like a child.

What would be your place in this world? Was something expected of you? Would they expect you to get married and have children? Should you find some sort of work? Should you perform some sort of role?

The reflection in the mirror frowned back at you slowly.

A… role?

...

You learned that your blood was valuable to her.

...

“But I am no vampire.”

“No. However, you heal like one. And Erzsebet drank from your blood for a long time, apparently.”

Annette looked at Alucard. “Do you think this was also somehow empowering her?”

The vampire took some moments to answer. “Maybe. We can’t be sure.”

…

That creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.

It is indeed a woman, not a thing.

…

It took you a long time to realize that there was someone knocking on the door. You got up in a jump and rushed towards it with your thoughts rushing faster than the currents of a river.

It was Henri. He had also taken a proper bath, changed his clothes, and blushed furiously when his eyes fell on your figure. Maybe because your hair was damp and not presentable? Not very lady-like. Perhaps inappropriate. But you didn’t care, the same way you didn’t really pay attention to anything he was saying; his words seemed muffled and distant within the cacophony of your own thoughts.

The bandages on his left shoulder were peeking from under his blouse.

“Henri, would you do something for me?” you interrupted whatever he was babbling before. “But you have to trust me.”

His eyes widened. “O-Of course! Anything for you, Mademoiselle.”

You opened the door wide and stepped aside, pointing towards the bed. “Please, have a seat.”

His face got even redder, if that was possible.

“B-B-But Mademoiselle– it would be inappropriate to enter your room like that, when we’re alone–“

“Please.”

“Of course!”

He rushed in awkwardly as if that wasn’t his own house. You didn’t bother to close the door again – if the idea of being alone with you made him so uncomfortable, it was best to leave it open. Henri sat on the edge of the bed while blinking rapidly for some reason. His breathing also looked irregular. Was he feeling unwell?

“Can you show me your wound?” You asked. Henri widened his eyes again.

“Mademoiselle… hm…”

“Trust me.” You were running impatient.

Henri hesitated, but ended up taking off his coat and pushing his blouse to expose the bandages. You turned around to take something from the dressing table. When you turned around holding a pair of scissors, Henri got pale.

He was a bit of a chameleon.

Henri was about to protest again, but the look you sent him made him gulp and go quiet. You stood in front of him to carefully cut the bandages away and expose the gashes on his shoulder. They were properly cleaned and stitched up, but even so you could still see how horribly that vampire hurt him. If Henri’s head was centimeters closer to the vampire’s claws… he wouldn’t be here right now to change colors anymore.

Henri gasped when you brought the blade of the scissors and cut your own palm.

“Mademoiselle–!”

“Shh.”

He swallowed his words.

You hoped to be right. That had to work.

Carefully, you pressed your bleeding palm over his wounds.

Henri hissed. Your hand moved slowly to spread the blood over the entire surface of the gashes. The sight was unpleasant, to say the least… but it was less disgusting than making him drink your blood.

Please, work. Please, work.

Nothing changed at first.

But then, Henri gasped – and you gasped, too.

Your palm pressed over his wounds – your blood started to glow faintly. It took a strange golden color, as if it became melted gold.

Both of you watched in awe as Henri’s wounds started to heal right in front of your eyes.

He seemed out of breath. He frowned and hissed and you knew he was probably hurting because you knew that feeling. You stood upright and stepped away from him in slight shock.

The threads that were used to stitch the gashes fell over his lap.

Henri touched his own shoulder hesitantly. He pressed his fingers over it, massaged it. There was no sign that it was previously hurt… not even a scar.

You learned that your blood was valuable to her.

Why keep you around? Why keep you locked with guards holding you at all times? Why drag you along anywhere she went?

That was the answer to one of the questions that plagued your existence.

Henri was healed.

Finally, he rose his amazed eyes towards you.

“Miss Ruby… h-how did…?”

Then, he looked at something behind you and got pale again.

You turned around.

Alucard stood by the door, watching the scene with an astonished expression.

You locked eyes. With that simple gaze, you saw that he understood the situation completely.

One piece of the puzzle that hid your mysterious past was solved.

“...Why is he talking funny?” You whispered in Annette’s ear.

She quirked one eyebrow up and looked towards Juste, who stood not far from where you were sitting.

A smirk crept up her lips. “He’s drunk.”

Juste Belmont, Richter’s grandfather who you only saw briefly at his destroyed cottage, swayed slightly as if he stood on water, though the ground at the sides of the Seinne were clearly cobblestones. His eyes were half lidded, his speech slower and a bit difficult to understand. He held a wooden cup full of beer and talked to some unknown men who seemed to be in a similar state as him.

At your obvious confusion, Annette frowned. “Have you never been drunk?”

“I don’t know what that is, I’m afraid.”

Annette looked more confused than you. She eyed the bottle of the (not very good) wine you’d been sharing for the past hour or so. “Well, I’m surprised… given how much you’ve been drinking. You don’t feel anything strange at all? A certain dizziness? A sudden happiness?”

You put your hand over your own stomach and frowned. “No. Was I supposed to?”

She rested her face on her palm. “A normal person would be supposed to… but I guess your healing ability doesn’t even let you get drunk.” A small chuckle went past her lips. “It’s what happens when someone drinks too much of an alcoholic beverage. They lose their senses, get dizzy, sometimes end up saying or doing things they wouldn’t do when they’re sane…”

“Oh.” Funnily enough, you knew how that felt – but it didn’t have anything to do with alcohol… just extreme levels of “sun magic”, apparently. “I didn’t know wine has alcohol. It doesn’t feel much different than juice to me.” You quirked one eyebrow up. “Does juice have alcohol?”

“No. Hopefully no.” She shook her head. It seemed that Annette thought your confusion over some things amused her, much like Alucard. She looked ahead again. “Getting drunk is not always bad, you know. Sometimes it helps you lift your spirits.”

You looked ahead too, back to where Juste and his new friends laughed at the top of their lungs at something you didn’t hear, and silently wished you could get drunk if it’d make you laugh like that.

It was… strange, to say the least, how the night in Paris was so lively. Streets were crowded and well lit, laughter and music filled the air as citizens celebrated. Men, women, young or old – the entire city decided to go outside and have a huge party. It didn’t even seem that a literal war broke out only a few hours ago. Most of the rubble hadn’t even been collected.

It was like no one cared. Which, in your opinion, was a bit heartless, given how many lives were lost. But it seems they were just happy that the person who threatened their freedom was dead.

Well. You should be happy too. More than anyone.

Why weren’t you celebrating with them?

You craved freedom for as long as you could remember. More than that… you craved relief. But turns out, deep down, you never thought that day would actually come, and now that it did, you just didn’t know how to react. So your body and feelings just decided to freeze in this strange state.

The others seemed happy – well, maybe except for Maria, the blonde girl in pink. She talked a bit with Annette and Juste, but resigned herself to be quiet most of the time with perpetual melancholy over her features. From what you knew, Maria had lost her mother the day you met Alucard, so her actions were understandable.

Richter bounced back between talking to Juste and Annette. The black haired girl still seemed a bit apprehensive about something, but other than that, she was much more relaxed than what you’d known of her. And Alucard… he was somewhere. He left the house with everyone, but quickly got caught up in conversation with some generals you’d seen before.

So there you were. Sitting on a bench with Annette by your side, watching Paris celebrate the death of the Vampire Messiah, while you felt that you couldn’t even move.

It was overwhelming. And a bit uncomfortable.

Turns out you hadn’t really gotten used to crowds… it seems it’s not something that would change over just a few days. Many men you met the day before came to greet you with wide smiles in their faces (now that Annette had explained, you figured most of them were probably drunk too). Of course, you were happy anytime you recognized a face – one more soldier that hadn’t fallen. But at at some point… you didn’t want to talk anymore, or force smiles, or try to pay attention to whatever they were trying to say.

So you decided to sit with Annette for a while in this somehow hidden spot. It seemed she didn’t want to mix with the people as well. You wondered if it had anything to do with what Alucard explained about her past and her homeland…

Which made you remember something else – something you’d been hesitating to ask.

You straightened your back and cleaned your throat. “Hm, Annette… can I ask you something?” She looked at you and nodded. “Do you remember what you said or did while… well… while Sekhmet possessed you?”

She narrowed her eyes and looked down, touching her temples with her fingertips. “Not exactly. I remember what happened while I was in the spirit world… but even these memories are a bit vague in some parts. Like the memories of a dream.” She rested her hand back over her lap. “It’s always like that when I wander there.”

“So you weren’t really here while Sekhmet had your body?” Annette shook her head. Your shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Oh. I understand.”

She tilted her head. “Why you ask?”

“Sekhmet said something strange about me.” You avoided her eyes. Although they shared the same face, Annette had nothing to do with Sekhmet and the feral glare she sent you at that moment. “She said I should not be close to her.”

“What? Why?”

“She didn’t explain. That’s why I hoped maybe you’d have a hint… since you shared a body.”

Annette held her chin in a pensive expression. “...I have no idea, I’m sorry. But if I remember something relevant from when I was in the spirit world, I’ll tell you right away.”

You thanked her quietly and looked ahead again. You couldn’t blame her. Annette had asked how that flash of sunlight happened, how the scepter worked – and similarly to her, you had no answers.

Richter was, once again, approaching with a smile on his face. Perhaps that was the little push you needed to move. Whenever he came around, you felt that you were… interrupting. It wasn’t the first time you felt like that around them, but the situation became a little bit more intense. Maybe you really were interrupting, maybe they wanted some time for themselves but didn’t want to be rude.

So you finally decided to get up.

“I’m tired... I’ll head back now.”

Annette seemed a bit worried. “Do you want me to walk back with you?”

Again, you couldn’t blame her for being worried, not after all she had seen of you – acting like a frightened little mouse all the time. You shook your head and managed to open a small (fake) smile. “No, thank you. The house is just two streets away… I promise to not get lost.”

Annette hesitated… but it seems she understood you wanted to be left alone.

“Okay. Take care.”

You nodded and turned around, not waiting to greet Richter. It also made you feel a bit like that frightened little mouse again, but there was another reason why you felt confident enough to walk these two streets alone. The red string around your right wrist. You decided to keep it there, the same way you decided to take the red disk – scepter – with you wherever you went. The idea of it being taken from you was enough to keep you on your toes at all times.

You walked past couples, families, friends, children – talking, drinking, dancing, running around. You wished you wouldn’t feel this disconnected from their reality. No… it was a bit more complicated than that. You wished you had a family, a real past, more good memories than bad ones. Perhaps if you had these things… you wouldn’t feel so distant or lost or empty.

As much as you’d been avoiding to sleep, you assumed that sleeping right now would ease your feelings a bit.

That was when something very subtle tingled on your wrist.

You looked down in time to see the red string untying itself and falling.

Frowning, you crouched and took it from the floor again. Had you accidentally brushed on someone–?

If anything happens, anything at all, untie this string. Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.

Your eyes widened.

You looked around frantically.

Finally – you found him.

Alucard stood alone on one of the many bridges over the Seinne not very far from where you were. He was difficult to find at first, but as soon as your eyes locked on him, everyone else became blurred. He leaned both forearms over the stone railing in a relaxed position; his face held the serenity you were already used to. It’s like he was deep in thought. The soft night breeze played with his white hair. He looked down at the river.

His red string swayed with the wind, too. Untied. He held it between his fingers.

Your heart stopped beating for a second.

You stood there, unable to move, as if your body finally remembered how to feel something, how to not be distant. You gulped, gripped the sun disk a little tighter.

Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.

Alucard noticed you were avoiding him. Well, it was quite impossible not to notice. He didn’t make any attempts to approach you (you quite literally ran away from him earlier after the new discovery about your blood). But that… that was a very clear message.

A quiet invitation.

So you took a deep breath, trying to calm your stupid racing heart. Why were you scared? That was Alucard. You knew Alucard. He was never mean to you, never made you feel bad intentionally. You had faced a city full of vampires earlier that day… talking to him was nothing compared to that.

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

You walked towards him.

You didn’t rush. You held the disk tightly, keeping it close to your stomach, the red string tangled around your palm. It seemed that your heart thundered louder on your ears with every step. It was like the world got blurrier and blurrier except for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you stood by his side.

Two steps away. You looked down at the river, too.

Silence.

You weren’t brave enough to look at him. Alucard didn’t move, didn’t say anything. But… just like before, his quiet serenity enveloped you, made the celebration noises a bit distant.

It didn’t calm your raging heart this time.

It took you a while to understand that Alucard was waiting for you to speak up first. But he called me here. Doesn’t he have anything to say? Why should I be the one to speak first?!

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

You gulped.

“I…” Your voice cracked a bit. You felt the urge to jump in the river and drown. “I don’t know how they have the energy to celebrate. It… doesn’t feel appropriate.”

Alucard sighed.

“The grieving families for sure aren’t out here.” Goosebumps roamed your skin when his calm husky voice reached your ears. “France is far from reaching real peace in the next few years… let them celebrate for now.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes glued to the river down there. It reflected the golden lights of the lanterns on the margins beautifully.

Come on, don’t be scared. Don’t be embarrassed. Come on. Come on. Come on.

You took what you had kept inside the sleeve of your dress hesitantly.

“A-Actually, I… I wanted to give you this.”

You turned to Alucard for the first time. He was already looking at you.

He looked down at the carefully folded handkerchief you offered him with both hands.

His expressions changed subtly. At first, confusion; then, surprise.

Then… a small smile.

You cleared your throat. “G-Give it back, actually. Since I ruined yours… I don’t know if it’s the same fabric, but it looks similar to the one you had.”

Alucard chuckled and took the handkerchief with care. When his fingers brushed yours, you felt more goosebumps.

“There was no need… but thank you. It is very thoughtful.”

You managed to smile, but turned to the river again before your face started burning.

With the corner of your eyes, you saw him put the handkerchief inside his coat and lean over the railing again. He was not wearing his cape. There was something different about him… perhaps because immediate danger wasn’t lurking anymore, Alucard felt comfortable enough to actually relax, and it reflected on his body and face.

You taped your pointer finger over the sun disk nervously. “How’s your wound?” You blurted out, desperate to not fall in an awkward silence.

Alucard instinctively touched his left shoulder. “Healed.” He looked at you again. “What about you?”

Oh fuck. He was addressing the elephant in the room – your strange state that made you weirder and braver than usual. Please do not mention the hug. Please please please please.

Once more, you avoided his gaze. “...Back to normal, I believe.” I hope is what you wanted to say, but perhaps it would’ve been a little rude.

“Do you have any idea of why that happened to you?”

You tightened your lips and frowned a bit.

You will burn from inside out.

It’s what the unknown female voice told you.

“I believe… I was doing something wrong at first.” You started hesitantly. “The magic. I was conjuring it in an incorrect way. I think my mistake harmed me. Burning me from inside out.”

Alucard hummed and held his chin.

“So it backfires. Magic so powerful should have its side effects.” Alucard seemed hesitant. “If it harms you… you should consider not doing it unless absolutely necessary.”

“No! It was just at first. I… figured it out later.” The thought made you tighten your grip around the sun disk by instinct. “Though, to be honest, I feel that that specific ritual shouldn’t be used in excess.”

Alucard’s eyes followed your grip. He quirked one eyebrow up slightly.

“I was meaning to ask you about this, too.” You handed him the sun disk right away, to which he took and raised to his eye level. “So the staff retracts. How did you figure it out?”

You shrugged. “It just felt right.”

Alucard grinned while handing it back to you. “It seems you’re remembering a lot of things.”

“...I’m not sure. It’s like I told you before… knowledge. Not memories.”

The white-haired vampire leaned on the railing again and looked into the distance. His expression got a bit more serious.

“I was thinking of what you told me. It reminded me of something.” Alucard seemed to hesitate. “...My parents were doctors. Both of them. My father, specifically, had a bit of a fascination for the mysteries of the human brain. He dedicated many studies and experiments to it. Wrote entire books.” Whenever Alucard mentioned anything about his father, it was like nothing else in the world mattered. You were completely focused. “From his many theses… he got to the conclusion that memories and abilities are stored in different areas of the brain. That could be why when someone suffers from memory loss, they still know how to speak, read, write… they know how to function.”

Your eyes widened at each word that left his mouth. “...Just like me.” Alucard nodded. You instinctively touched your own head. “So maybe this part of my brain is damaged?”

“Could be.”

“But why isn’t it healing back?”

Alucard hesitated.

“I believe we’ll figure it out soon.” You wanted to ask what the hell he meant by that, but Alucard decided to change topics drastically. “Talking about healing… did you tell anyone about what happened?”

Oh.

The absolute shocking news you discovered earlier that day, but that seemed pale at that moment in comparison with your nervousness to speak with him.

“No.” You shook your head. “But I was thinking… Richter’s burns are pretty bad. Maybe I could help him… or maybe if I knew where Mizrak is, I could save him...”

“Ruby.”

He put his hand over your shoulder – which made you swallow your words.

Quiet worry coated his features.

“I understand you want to help. But you should also understand that the properties of your blood are extremely rare and extremely valuable. It will put a target on your head again. So… the less people know about it, the better.” He dropped his hand from your shoulder. “Also… if in order to heal someone you end up getting hurt, I don’t see why you should do it.”

“But I always–“

“I know.” He interrupted you softly. “I know you do. That doesn’t mean you should hurt yourself willingly.” Alucard pressed his lips. “...Blood is life, Ruby. Don’t give your life away so easily.”

You sighed heavily and crossed your arms. “I guess you’re right. Henri knows about it, though.”

“He won’t tell anyone.” Alucard sounded way too certain about that.

It was your turn to lean on the stone railing, You looked down at the river. The pacific sound of the non-stopping flowing waters muffled the other noises – uncountable voices and music. You wondered if Alucard attracted you here on purpose… a place where you could focus on a single calming sound.

And perhaps that calmness gave you courage to ask the question you wanted to ask the most.

“What are you going to do now, Alucard?” Your voice was hesitant. Fragile, even… “Erzsebet and Drolta are dead. Your five year mission is over…”

Of course, you knew he and the others had no responsibility over you. You were well aware. And yet, the simple thought of being left alone frightened you. The idea that Alucard would wake up tomorrow and simply go away, and the others would go back to Machecoul, and Annette would cross the ocean back to Saint-Domingue… all of that was frightening.

You wanted to be free, not alone.

And the thought that you might never see Alucard again was even more frightening.

Should you have been attached to him so easily after just a few days? Was that correct or normal? You had no idea. What you knew was that Alucard was the first person to offer kindness and protection and understanding, and you didn’t want him out of your life so soon.

But that was not up to you.

So all you could do was ask.

Alucard leaned on the railing too. He was closer this time. Just one step away, not two.

“I think I should be making this question.” He said softly. “What are you going to do now that you’re free?”

A dry, humorless chuckle escaped past your lips. That wasn’t funny, however.

“I don’t have a family. Or a past, or a name. I don’t know where I came from or where should I go next. I don’t know why my blood heals, why I can read this language, where did this scepter come from… I don’t know anything.” You hated how fragile and bitter your voice sounded, but that couldn’t be helped. “...Is this even freedom at all?”

Alucard kept silent for long, respectful moments.

Then, he sighed deeply.

“There is only one place in the world where we could decode this language.” He pointed towards the sun disk.

You looked at him with a frown.

“There is only one place in the world where we might find out why you heal… and where does your strange magic comes from.”

Expectation bubbled within your chest.

“What place is it?”

Alucard closed his eyes for a moment. It was just a glimpse, but you had the impression that he didn’t really like what he was about to say.

But then, he opened his eyes to look at you – and his golden irises had nothing but kindness and quiet care, and the lanterns cast a soft glow over his features and white hair, and truly – he was so beautiful that it was almost painful to look at.

“My home.” He tilted his head to the sides. “...What used to be my home, at least.” Alucard straightened his back. “I’m making you an invitation, Ruby.”

Your heart raced. Your mouth got dry. Your eyes widened slowly.

“Do you want to… help me?” You, for some reason, sounded amazed. Why is it? Has anyone been more willing to help you than Alucard?

Alucard smiled and nodded – and, at that moment, with that simple motion, he seemed to ease all the worries of your soul.

“I do. I will. Let’s find out who you really are, Ruby.” Alucard rested his hand over yours… and once again, it didn’t burn.

It warmed.

“Let’s go to Dracula’s castle.”