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britishassistant · 3 months ago

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Soul Searching (Is Harder If You Have Different Maps)

Azul (sharing injuries) - Yuu (dream sharing)

You’ve never quite got dreams.

You have them, of course, formless and hazy, in the way that all dreams of those who haven’t met their soulmates yet are. But you’ve never been able to understand why everyone else is so delighted by the experience, not when yours are so. So…

Muffled.

The full sensory equivalent of pressing your ear against a shell wrapped in a towel, straining, straining, straining to hear a sound that you aren’t sure is even there to begin with.

Still, you keep your own counsel. What you’ve overheard from your half-siblings and peers makes it clear that your dreams are…lacking, somehow. That you should have some glimpses of your soulmate’s interests, of their passions, their personality in between all the haze. That you see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing is apparently not normal.

You never breathe a word to anyone about it.

Instead, you add it to the list of many, many things you try not to think about. Who cares if your dreams are vague and unsatisfying? You’re a busy person, with lots of important work to do.

Even more so once you’re on your own.

And then you’re walking home from your late shift at the convenience store, and all of a sudden you’re in the middle of experiencing (was it a dream? It must have been, but it was so sharp, so vivid, so real—!) a monster murder you, with more vicious clarity than anything else that’s ever been in your head. When you wake, you’re in a coffin with a fire-breathing tanuki trying to steal heavy, ornamental clothing that you don’t ever remember putting on.

You’re so disoriented by everything that you don’t even realize when something in your head…shifts. Not while you’re standing there in front of hundreds of boys, being told that your country, your world doesn’t exist.

That night, for what is possibly the first time in your life, you dream.

It’s different, this dreaming.

It’s soft rather than stark, not the vivid terror of the monster, but not the sensory deprivation you usually experience whenever you close your eyes. You can see, hear, feel things. Comprehensible things, understandable things, tinted by a haze of what must be memory.

You see miles upon miles of blue, dappled where sunlight pierces through far above and plays on the white sand below, colorful rocks and coral reefs breaking up the landscape.

Or rather, seascape.

A faint waft of warmth moves over your skin, ephemeral but somehow more solid than the breezes you’re accustomed to. An ocean current, flowing past your location.

There are far off cries and laughter, and you glimpse gleaming scales darting in and out of the coral.

You feel a strange, foreign longing to explore that place, to go and find out what more beauty it has to offer.

But you remain hidden, surrounded by curved ceramic walls throughout.

You wake up smiling.

It’s impossible. Incomprehensible. Here you are, in a world that’s nothing like your own, with a magic tanuki flopped over your chest and snoring, with less than nothing to your name.

And yet, you’ve found your soulmate. You’ve met them. You’re seeing their dreams.

And, you realize, smile slipping off your face as Grim the (not?) tanuki gives a yawn and plants a foot right in your solar plexus, you have absolutely no idea who they are.

They have to be someone you met yesterday, but you were paraded in front of a crowd of at least four hundred people, if not more. Finding out who they are will be like searching for a needle in an entire countryside of harvested grain.

And that’s not even getting into the issue of what will happen to the pair of you when you find a way back to your world.

It’s that thought which bolsters your resolve more than anything. You can’t look for your soulmate, just to abandon them when it comes time for you to head back. For all you know, you’ll be gone by the end of the week.

And yet…

Your soulmate dreams of a world under the sea when they sleep.

You tuck that small kernel of information close to your heart as you shove the tanuki off you and go to pull on the itchy school-branded clothes the headmaster provided for your new job as janitor.

You get very busy very quickly after that.

You’re nearly expelled over a chandelier you had no hand in breaking, nearly killed by a monster of ink and rage, reinstated as a two-in-one Prefect of a nearly dorm, nearly punished for losing track of Grim, nearly successful in presenting a Mont Blanc at an Unbirthday Party, nearly involved in unseating a dorm head, nearly killed by the same dorm head transforming into a monster of ink and trauma and rage, nearly falling through the many, many rotting floorboards in the ramshackle derelict you live in, nearly passing classes in subjects you’ve never studied before.

Nearly driving yourself mad trying to work out what the hell is going on in your head.

If your soulmate’s dreams are soothing and ever so slightly nonsensical, a balm to your mind after a long day of dealing with this school’s weirdness, then the other dreams are exactly the opposite. A jarring disruption in the middle of a harmony, clanging in your brain and forcing your attention no matter how you try to pull away.

Some of them are less intense, dreams of a red queen persecuting a little girl for not following all the rules of her topsy-turvy kingdom. Of a lion desiring to replace his brother as leader of the pride.

And then there’s the one with the monster that kills you.

You’ve poured over as many bestiaries as the library will let you check out at one time (and a few you’ve smuggled out for good measure). But there’s nothing like the murderous creature in your dreams anywhere you look. Hell, even the amount of literature on overblots is pretty thin, constantly alluding to “incidents” in the distant past that nearly decimated nations which somehow lack even one primary resource to detail what happened beyond “powerful mages under extreme stress overextended their magic reserves”, let alone how to stop them from starting.

Maybe you’re going too far. Maybe this is all just part of the persecution complex you’ve been accused of having multiple times.

But given how shaken and exhausted you feel after every time you wake up from one of those dreams? How its hold on your slumber feels distinctly and hideously unnatural, looming and ominous?

How this could spread from you to your soulmate if left unchecked?

Yeah, there’s no way you’re not pouring every spare second outside of school into researching these things.

So of course the headmaster decides to push his job of investigating potential sabotage against players of the ridiculous-sounding Magift onto you, cutting that time down dramatically. Because he’s just. so. Kind.

If you hear that catchphrase of his one more time, you will scream. And once you’ve started, you may not be able to stop.

Still, at Grim’s urging you turn your attention towards investigation, redoubling your efforts once you see what the culprits did to Trey-senpai. Ace and Deuce joining doesn’t exactly help, but more hands make it easier to cover more ground, you suppose.

The two of them arrive to lunch surprisingly late. They hadn’t been waiting outside the locker room restroom for you and Grim like usual, but you weren’t sure where exactly they’d gone, more focused on ensuring Grim received sustenance before he began gnawing on your arm. Again.

You have obtained food for you and the gremlin who serves as your “other half”, and are defending your omelette from his opportunistic paws when you hear Deuce sigh, “There you guys are. We were worried we’d missed you—ah! Don’t take it off yet!”

“I’m tryin’ not to spill anything here! Quit nagging!”

You look up to see Ace trying to set down a lunch tray one handed, while the other presses a cold compress to his face. He gives up, dumping the compress onto the table so he can better negotiate not spilling his drink onto his sandwich as he sits next to you.

“Fgnah! What happened to you?” Grim gasps. “Didja steal the wrong guy’s lunch?”

Ace’s eye is almost swollen shut, the skin around it and partway down his cheek dark purple with bruising.

“I don’t wanna hear that from a thieving weasel like you.” Ace sticks his tongue out, bringing the cold compress back up to his face.

“Who did this.” Your voice is cold and hard.

You need names, places, information to begin planning how best to get back at the asshole who hurt him. You don’t know what you’ll do or how you’ll do it yet, don’t know if this is retribution for looking into the “accidents”, but rest assured, no matter who did this, you are going to ruin them—!

To your shock, Ace laughs, shrugging off your hand. “Chill, would you? It’s just my soulmate, no big deal.”

You feel your mouth go dry as you stare at him. His soulmate did this to him?! How could they—why did they—and he’s laughing?!

You’ve heard of soulmate abuse cases before, know how dangerous and touchy a subject they can be. You never thought you’d be friends with one.

“Who is it?” You insist, your voice strangled.

Ace shrugs. “I dunno.”

You don’t even try to stop your mouth hanging open.

“You don’t know.”

Ace nods as he sticks a straw into his drink and gives an obnoxious slurp.

“I’m sorry, how can you not know the identity of the person who punched you in the face when they’re your soulmate?!” You demand, gripping his shoulders. “Did they hit you anywhere else in the head? Do you have a concussion? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Whoa, whoa!” He presses a finger to your forehead and pushes your head back. “Why the hell are you freaking out so much? No one punched me, this is just from my soulmate. Like you’ve never gotten a bruise from yours before.”

You’re so bewildered by this nonsensical explanation, that all you can do is stutter out, “No??”

Ace actually does a double take. “No? The hell d’you mean, no?! Wh—OW, FUCK!!”

“Ace!” Deuce hisses, darting a glance at you before trying to kick Ace under the table again. “I-it’s okay, Prefect, you don’t need to talk about it just because this guy has no tact—”

“Why the hell would my soulmate ever hurt me?!” You demand, incredulity ratcheting your voice up several octaves. “What kind of, of fucked up, abusive mindset is that?! What, are you telling it’s normal here for soulmates to physically assault one another??”

Grim’s little head is whipping back and forth between you all like he’s watching a tennis match. Some of your omelette vanishes into his mouth.

“A-assault?” Deuce gasps, finally showing the appropriate level of concern that you’d expect for a topic like this.

“Hooold up a sec.” Ace holds an arm up between the two of you. “Pause, time out, whatever. Prefect, what d’you mean ‘soulmates here’? How do you think soulmates work?”

You jab a finger against the sticky surface of the table. “Dreams. Soulmates. Share. Each others’. Dreams. They resolve when you see each other for the first time but even before that they’re meant to give you hints of personality and preferences. Any elementary kid can tell you that.”

There’s a pause to let this basic knowledge and the shame of them somehow forgetting it sink in.

“N-No?” Deuce says, looking bewildered for some reason. “That’s. That’s not how they work at all?”

You splutter. “Wh-Yes! Yes, it is!”

“No, it isn’t.” Ace takes far too much glee in informing you. “Soulmates share each others’ pain and injuries. So that they’ll care for each other as they would themselves.”

You stare at the two of them.

“…what kind of masochistic fuckery is that?”

“It’s not fuckery!!” Deuce protests immediately. “Also, watch your mouth!”

“You’ve no room to talk, ya know…” Grim mutters in the middle of licking your plate clean.

“It’s better than the twee bullshit you’re spouting.” Ace flutters the one eyelid as best he can, pressing his cold compress to his forehead. “Oooh, I see all my soulmate’s dreams, even the freaky ones about showing up to class naked or getting chased by crabs because I’m secretly a creepy weirdo.”

“I don’t want to hear that from a guy who thinks beans in tomato sauce on toast is acceptable breakfast food!!” You hiss.

“WH—YOU LITERALLY SAID YOU EAT ROTTEN SOYBEANS ON RICE!!!” He yells at you.

“NATTŌ ISN’T ROTTEN, IT’S FERMENTED YOU DOLT!”

A commotion slightly louder than the usual noise of the cafeteria draws your attention.

You watch the tall green-haired guy who always screams at people running in the halls yell at the upperclassman who keeps taking naps in weird places.

Even from where you’re sitting, you can see the giant, angry bruise taking up half his face. His left leg buckles slightly as he stands, and you watch as he rubs his knee with a grimace, shouting at the sleepy second-year in response to some question you can’t hear.

The same knee, part of you notes, that Deuce had kicked Ace in not five minutes ago.

“So what,” You point. “You’re telling me that that guy is your soulmate?”

The three of them whip around to stare.

“Oh my Seven.” Ace breathes.

“Prefect.” Deuce says, half-awed, half-despairing.

“Oh my Seven.”

“Prefect, what the hell.”

Ace stands up and begins waving his arms above his head. “OI!! HEY, DIASOMNIA GUY!!”

Somehow, the “Diasomnia Guy” doesn’t even hear him. In fact, you think his yelling manages drowns out the din from the rest of the cafeteria, so none of Ace’s shouting gets through.

“His lung capacity must be amazing…” Deuce mutters as you watch. “Wonder if he’d join the track and field team?”

Ace takes a defeated breath. “Gah, it feels like my throat’s gonna give out. How loud can one guy be, anyway?”

“Well, of course yer not gonna get his attention with only that, fgnah!” Grim puffs out his little chest, scrambling onto the table and grabbing the abandoned compress. “Since I feel so bad for you, the Great Grim will show ya how to really get someone to look only at you!”

He winds up as far as little floating body will allow. You feel a great sense of foreboding as he cries, “HEY, GREENIE!! TAKE THIS, FGNAH!!”

“Wait, GrIM, NO—!”

You all watch as the cold compress soars through the air.

Diasomnia Guy turns around just in time for it to catch him right on the swollen side of his face.

And that’s how you all make the acquaintance of Sebek Zigvolt, Ace Trappola’s soulmate…right after he stops chasing the four of you all over campus, screaming about assassination attempts.

It’s probably for the best that Riddle-senpai and Cater-senpai decided to join your “investigation team” in a more active capacity after hearing about this incident. For your safety, if nothing else.

It is a little confusing when they do the soulmate thing of having an entire conversation in a single glance, but at least Cater-senpai’s kind enough to fill the rest of you in, and Riddle-senpai strategizes with you all once Jack Howl comes to you to confirm your suspicions about Savannaclaw.

The plan is elegant in its simplicity, but does require all of you to be in your proper places at the proper time.

Which leads you to now. Fighting your way through the crowds to reach the Hall of Mirrors now that you’ve seen the hyena second-year head away from it.

It’s a tight squeeze in all the crowds outside the stadium.

Not helped by how Grim keeps getting distracted by all the sights and smells like an overexcited little kid, dashing underfoot almost too quickly for you to snag him. “Minion! Minion, these guys are selling bubble drinks!! How’sat different from soda? I wanna try it! I wanna try!”

“Not now, Grim—it’ll still be here afterwards, come on.” You take advantage of a brief gap in all the people to bend down and scoop up your furball, who immediately began whining about losing walking privileges.

As you straighten up, someone bumps into your back and almost sends you sprawling. Only a gloved hand catching your shoulder keeps you from crushing your fuzzy other half.

“Oh. Careful there.”

You look up to see a bespectacled boy in a three-piece suit, coat, and hat despite the sunny weather. He keeps you anchored as you find your footing in the midst of the throng.

“Ah—thanks. My apologies for the inconvenience.”

“No, no.” The boy says, tilting his head. You’re momentarily dazzled by how the sun reflects off his hair. “The fault is all mine.”

You quirk a small smile, before Deuce calls your name and you hurry off into the crowd.

You’ve got an important job to prepare for, after all.

So you end up in the infirmary. Again.

Turns out Kingscholar-senpai decided that the best way to react to you all not letting his hyena junior commit 3rd degree homicide against the Diasomnia dorm head was by overblotting. And attempting to disintegrate you, the bleachers you happened to be sheltering on, and the aforementioned junior. Who also happens to be his soulmate.

If you’d had any doubts about the whole “sharing pain” thing, they’d dissolved as parts of the two boys in front of you had.

Kingscholar-senpai, you decide with great feeling, is a huge bag of dicks.

At least Ace got to show off and look cool in front of Zigvolt-san. Even if it meant that you ended up taking a Magift disk to the back of the skull, it sounds like they had fun playing.

Still, at least the infirmary is quiet, now that the others have all left and Kingscholar-senpai’s nephew has been safely returned to his security team.

Until the source of your current woes decides to open his mouth.

“You must have it in for your soulmate.” Kingscholar-senpai mutters. “I feel sorry for the guy, with everything a crazy herbivore like you’s put him through.”

You bark a humorless laugh. “I don’t wanna hear that from the guy who did this to me. And who tried to disintegrate his own soulmate too.”

Kingscholar lets out a low grumble as you twist as much as you comfortably can to look at Buchie-senpai. “If you wanna report him for soulmate abuse senpai, I’ll back you up all the way. You don’t have to let him get away with this.”

“What I want is f’r you numbskulls to shaddup so I can sleep.” Buchie-senpai groans from the bed between the two of you. Then, after a tense silence where you and Kingscholar-senpai reflect on your wrongdoing, he speaks again. “An’ I’m not lettin’ him “get away” with anything. There’s so much grovellin’ in yer future Leona, it isn’t even funny. But I’m gonna be nice and let you do it, because I love you and won’t let you get away with half-assin’ this outta guilt or some shit like that. You’re too important to me for that.”

There’s another grumble from Kingscholar-senpai, though this one sounds considerably more flustered.

You feel your cheeks heat in second-hand embarrassment. “Can’t you wait until you two can get a room?”

You can hear Buchie-senpai’s grin even in the dark. “Hey, you started it.”

May the Great Seven save you from overly affectionate and mushy soulmates. Hopefully, you think muzzily as you finally begin to drift off to sleep, whoever yours is won’t be as ridiculous and gung-ho as all the others you’ve encountered so far.

You spend the next few weeks on crutches.

Nurse Kamac insists on it. Apparently jumping off a set of bleachers isn’t the greatest for your torn ankle ligament or barely healed rib fractures, to say nothing of the deep sand abrasions Kingscholar-senpai inflicted on your thigh and hip.

You have to renovate your dorm almost out of self-defense. It’s hard to use your crutches for their intended purpose when they go through the floors you’re trying to walk on. And if you’re fixing the floors, why not clear away the cobwebs in the corners? Try to cover the holes in the ceiling? Replace the peeling wallpaper and scrub away the mold? Fit new glass into the windows and beat the dust out of the rugs and duvets and pillows?

It’s a lot of work, and Grim and Ace complain whenever you rope them into it. Even Deuce and Jack leave exhausted even with their enthusiasm to help out, and you collapse into bed aching so much you’re sure you’ve set some part of your recovery back. But it gets easier to navigate every day, and you’re sure that the place Ramshackle Dorm is becoming is one that is far more conducive to your recovery.

You try to put Kingscholar’s words from your mind. To tell yourself that soulmates don’t work that way for you, even if it’s how they work in this world. That surely, your soulmate shares your dreams and not what’s been inflicted upon you.

But.

But…

Your soulmate’s been having nightmares recently.

Figures of people with colorful fish tails swarm your slumber, jeering at your inability to swim quickly, making cracks about your unsightly appearance, your lack of grace, lack of desirability, lack of any ability whatsoever, how of all the creatures in the sea, you alone surely must be a mistake of creation.

You can’t do anything in the dreams. Can’t manifest your body or change the scene, can’t whisper to your soulmate to cover their ears and not listen or shout down the poisonous words and their speakers. You’re a spectator, carried along with your soulmate’s anguish and sorrow.

You sometimes pretend that your will is enough to act as a shield, to let your soulmate know how much you care about them and want to give them strength to withstand what their mind puts them through every night.

But you can’t help wondering if you caused this.

After all, if they’re some kind of mermaid (look, this world has ghosts and beast-people and fairies, your disbelief has been officially suspended for a while now) then wouldn’t all the injuries you’ve received so far directly affect their ability to swim? What if, through no fault of their own other than being soul-bonded with you, their life has been ruined? What if they’re dreaming of the abuse they have to endure every day, now that your overblot injuries have destroyed both their mobility and social standing?

Will it get worse for them if you have to endure another one?

There are only two things you can think of to help, to apologize. One is to follow Nurse Kamac’s directions to the letter, as much as you can. Try to let your battered body heal and pray theirs will do the same.

The other is to throw yourself back into your research on how to stop Overblots before they start. Surely, if you’re better prepared, if you can find out what connects these incidents and cut it out at the root, then your soulmate won’t have anything to worry about, right? No infection through the strange dreams or from your injuries.

Next time, you’ll be ready. Next time, you’ll stop it.

You won’t let anything hurt them or you ever again.

You instinctively know that when Deuce manages to score higher than you on exams that something is deeply, terribly wrong.

You’d been distracted on the last day of exams by a new dream, of a mermaid saving a prince from drowning, so maybe you didn’t pay as much attention to the test as you should’ve. But under any other circumstances, your 87 would have been perfectly respectable. Especially as you don’t have the knowledge base most of these wizards take for granted.

But to find out that you’re only two points ahead of Grim, that the curve of the entire grade has been dramatically skewed to the 90s and higher almost overnight?

You feel something’s off even before the others race out of the classroom to see the official results board.

“I got a 92, so I gotta be in the top 50, right?!” Ace demands, eyes scanning over the board with a fervor usually reserved for getting the last piece of cherry pie in the cafeteria.

“…48th, 49th, 50th…not there!!” Grim yowls, panicked for some reason. “Minion, I’m not on there at all!!”

“Look!” Deuce gasps, interrupting your attempts to comfort your fuzzy companion. “The top 30 people, they—they all got top marks in every subject!!”

You boggle at the columns of “500 points” making up most of the list. “That’s not possible. For thirty people to have gotten perfect scores…surely there’s cheating going on here, right?”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Comes a deep voice from behind you. When you look up, Jack Howl looks a little defensive. “You—you guys were makin’ so much noise I had to see what was goin’ on.”

“Who cares about that!” Grim frets, pacing circles around your legs. “If I’m not in the top 50, I’ve broken my contract!”

“What?” You ask, entirely befuddled.

Ace and Deuce stare at him, as if they’ve had a horrible realization.

Which is when they, Grim, and most of the students in the hall sprout blueish-purple growths from their heads that wouldn’t look out of place in an ocean documentary.

“What.” You demand. “What is happening.”

“Prefect, Jack,” Deuce gasps. “Ah! You guys don’t have anemones? So, for exams, you didn’t…?”

“Didn’t what?” Jack asks, looking just as confused as you feel. “The hell’s that thing on your heads?”

“W-well, you see i—AAAAAGH!!” The “anemone” on Ace’s head suddenly tilts all the way to the left in time with his pained screeching. Deuce and Grim join in as their anemones bend too, all of them acting like some invisible force is yanking them away from you by the hair.

“The fuck…?” Jack mutters as the crowd in front of the exam board is forcibly dispersed, howls of pain rising like some horrendous chorus.

You set your jaw. “C’mon, we need to go after them.”

“Who’s we?” Jack snorts. “This looks like a you problem. ‘S got nothing to do with me.”

You fix him with a dour stare.

Suddenly, you let out a pained hiss, clutching at your sand-abrasion’d hip. “Augh, ow, ow! Of all times for my injuries to be acting up! What’ll happen to me if I go off to investigate on my own and it’s dangerous, I wonder?”

Jack’s ears go flat on his head and he lets out a small growl. “Alright, alright fine. You’ve adjusted way too quickly to how things work at this school…”

“You know you love me.” You tease.

Jack raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you. “I love Vil. I put up with you and the idiots.”

Despite his words, you can see his tail swishing slightly behind him.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You turn to follow the stumbling crowd of anemone’d students. “Now, let’s go get our idiots back.”

As the two of you give chase, the halls grow thick with students. All sporting that same lavender growth from their heads. All heading towards one particular mirror in the Hall of Mirrors.

All complaining about how their lives are now over since they failed to make the top 50 places in exams.

You follow them through.

What’s on the other side of the mirror takes your breath away.

An entire dorm building, emerging from underwater rock formations and forests of delicate seaweed around it, sparkling faintly in the sunlight that trickles through the leagues upon leagues of water above you. The scent of brine is thick in the air around you, enveloping you like a gentle embrace.

“This is amazing!” Jack grins, echoing your sentiments exactly. “That’s Night Raven College for you!”

He glances at you and flusters for some reason, ears drooping slightly as he folds his arms. “Ah, ahem! …Remember this is a strange dorm. We need to keep our guard up.”

“Right.” You nod as you keep following the group of shuffling anemones down a corridor that has curving glass walls like an aquarium. “…It’s still really cool though.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice him give a small smile.

The two of you end up following the crowd into what seems like a relatively swanky restaurant. Most of the walls are glass tanks, open-backed to allow fish from the ocean around the dorm to flit in and out of what looks to be a carefully curated mimicry of the ocean floor. The floor is divided between a central bay and a slightly raised area where the maitre’d booth is. Most of the tables are set inside curved, shell-like booths, with only a few taller ones with stools scattered around. There’s even a bar, though you’re pretty sure almost every student here is under the legal drinking age.

The lights dim slightly.

A boy strides out to the raised area in front of the main tank, illuminated by a spotlight. His three piece suit is immaculate and surely too hot for the temperate room you’re in, just like when you last saw him.

“Him?” You murmur to yourself. “Figures.”

Jack’s ear twitches and he looks down at you. “You know this guy, Prefect?”

You shrug. “He helped me up when I fell over at the Magift festival, before we took on Leona. He seemed nice enough then, but…”

But, as you well know, “nice” is often a cover for “manipulative”.

“Good afternoon.” The boy says. “I know I’m well-known to you all, but allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Azul Ashengrotto, and I am the dorm head of Octavinelle. As of today, I am also the man who will be your master.”

Everything goes downhill quickly from there.

To summarize your rather pathetic situation right now:

Azul Ashengrotto revealed that he’d managed to trick nearly all the first years, and a good portion of the second years and third years into signing contracts with him to get personalized study guides for final exams, leading to inflated scores across the board. Because of the privacy clause built into those contracts, none of them could let on what they’d done once it was signed, and so he was able to recruit enough people that even if he does need to create personalized guides for fifty people until they graduate, the rest are under a contract of “absolute obedience” to him and are conscripted to work in his restaurant, Mostro Lounge.

And, as Jack, Deuce, Ace, and Grim discovered, any magic he’d received as collateral is now at his disposal, and its previous owner can no longer use it. Contractees also cannot destroy the contract that binds them, as it is apparently “invincible”.

You discover from Headmaster Dire Crowley that this is not the first time Azul Ashengrotto has gotten away with this. As he creates these study guides by meticulously combing over 100 years’ worth of exam questions in each subject at every grade level, and then customizes them to the learning styles of each student who comes to him, he’s technically not “cheating” so much as he is “studying with his peers”.

You also discover from Crowley that this is your problem now. Or the headmaster will be “so busy” that he’ll have to cut off your food stipend. Entirely.

Which is what has lead to you and Jack peering at your target from the backs of classrooms and around walls, feeling like an absolute creeper.

You can’t gleam much information about Azul Ashengrotto just by following him around. He’s an excellent and conscientious student by all accounts, but you knew that from the headmaster’s description already.

All you’ve really accomplished is attracting the attention of the twins who also tend to shadow him.

They wait until Ace, Deuce and Grim join you and Jack for lunch before approaching. One appears controlled and introduces himself as Jade Leech. The other appears lackadaisical and says he’s called Floyd Leech. You gain the nickname “Shrimpy” from (justifiably) flinching away when each twin takes a seat on either side of you.

Immediately, they begin waxing rhapsodic about how if you have any problems, any at all, Azul can help you! He can grant anyone’s deepest desire so long as they’re willing to make a deal and pay the price. If you would like to hear more, you, the Ramshackle Prefect, are apparently cordially invited to visit at 9 PM this evening.

You’re slightly impressed.

You can see ten anemones at the table behind Jack. Six at the table behind that, approximately fifteen at the table to your right past Ace, and twelve at the table to your left past Deuce and Grim. You have no doubt that if you turned around, there would be even more anemone-inflicted students at the tables behind you.

It seems Ashengrotto-san gave most of his enslaved workforce this lunch break off. And judging by the strange lull in the usual noise of the cafeteria, all of them heard Leech-san’s proposal to you.

It’s an annoyingly clever play. Even if you were willing to risk your relationships with Ace, Deuce, and Grim by refusing to go, you’d then have to deal with the…“persuasion tactics” of all the other enslaved students, who know now you have the potential to free them. And even if all of them have traded the magic they have the most pride in away…

Well. There are many, many ways a magicless mob of students can make your life hell. You know this from experience.

You’re cornered on all sides. You owe Ashengrotto that much to concede.

And, as sure as the tides, the anemones on Ace, Deuce and Grim’s heads begin tugging them away the moment you state your intention to hear Ashengrotto out. The cafeteria empties in a matter of minutes.

Really, you think as you shovel some rice into your mouth. You’re going up against a tricky one this time around.

“Aha!” The more lackadaisical Leech-san (Floyd, you believe) cheers. “Shrimpy, you came!!”

“This is a mistake.” Jack mutters behind you.

“Any better ideas you have, I’m all ears.” You murmur as Leech-san leads you both to a table where his twin is waiting.

“My apologies.” The more controlled Leech-san (Jade, you think) says. “Azul is currently meeting with another client. It may be some time before he is able to meet with you.”

Your foot he is. You know these tactics, have grown up seeing them employed by and against your family with varying levels of success.

Forcing the other party in a negotiation to wait, implying that they rank low in your list of priorities. Artificially increasing desperation and frustration with the manufactured power imbalance, so they’re sloppy with irritation or overly timid when they sit across from you at long last, giving you more than they ever originally planned.

You also recognize the trick being played when the Leech brothers begin mistreating Ace and Deuce in front of you. Granted, it’s usually less violent, but by having a low-level employee mess up in front of a competitor, you can gauge how altruistic and competent they are. Your father always trusted a business partner who went out of their way to successfully help the unfortunate employee more than any who left them to struggle or berated them. Those who tried to help but messed up themselves never even made it into his office.

Though, you think to yourself as you coordinate Jack, Ace, Deuce, and the other servers through the brunt of the evening rush, it’s possible that Ashengrotto is also just trying to exhaust you enough to make you careless as well.

A slow clapping as you try to catch your breath breaks you out of your musings.

“Bravo, Prefect.” The Octavinelle dorm head leans against an octopus-headed cane. “Wonderful job managing the dinner rush. Have you had experience doing this before?”

You smile tightly. “Rather than focusing on myself, I’d love to have a discussion with you, Dorm Head Ashengrotto.”

“Is that so?” He offers you his arm. “Well, please, right this way, Prefect.”

Ashengrotto-san has a very nice office for a high schooler. Ledgers fill the bookshelves built into the walls, small glass panes near the floor give a view to the restaurant’s tank, and a sturdy, gilded desk of dark wood sits proudly in front of a large vault that’s nestled into the back wall.

“Are we even at school anymore?” Jack mutters to you. “This feels like a bank.”

“Don’t stand on ceremony. Please, take a seat.” Ashengrotto gestures to the couch opposite his own.

You and Jack sit. The couch is almost offensively plush and comfortable. The twin you think is Floyd Leech sets down a mug of white tea before each of you.

“Here ya go~ On the house this time.”

“Ah, and I’ll thank you to not write anything down, Prefect.” Ashengrotto-san’s glasses flash as he eyes your little black notebook. “I’m afraid I must insist on client confidentiality in all of my dealings.”

You don’t click your tongue as you stash your notebook and pencil away, but it’s a near thing.

“Now then,” He spreads his hands, ever the benevolent businessman. “What can I do for you two?”

“I want you to release all the student workers you contracted during exams.” You state.

Ashengrotto-san makes a show of chuckling and shaking his head. “This is a rather tyrannical request all of a sudden. We hardly know each other, and yet you want me to release all 225 students I’ve made contracts with?”

“225 people?!” Jack barks, ears flat on his head. “You enslaved that many?!”

“Please, I’ll ask you not to use that word.” Ashengrotto-san chides gently. “I prefer to think of it as mandatory work-study experience. Jade and Floyd did an excellent job recruiting this year. Thanks to that, I was able to work with so many new clients.”

“No.” The gears in your head turn. “It’s closer to 337, isn’t it? A little over or under that at least.”

Ashengrotto-san tilts his head at you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Jack stares at you, uncomprehending.

“With the way these soulmates work, sharing physical afflictions, the soulmates of contractees probably feel it every time you compel their other halves into obedience. You may have managed to get both halves of some pairs, but mathematically there’s no way that’s the case for everyone.” You fold your hands in your lap. “Even if your control of them isn’t as absolute as it is for someone under contract, the correction techniques of your managers show there’s leverage being applied. For the contractees, it’s ‘don’t disobey unless you want harm to come you your soulmate’. For their other halves, it’s ‘do whatever you can to lessen their burden if you want the pain to stop’. Am I wrong?”

Jack’s mouth is hanging open, horrified. “That’s—!”

One Leech twins lets out an amused little chuckle, as if you’ve told a mildly humorous anecdote. The other lets out a deranged cackle that’s more in line with the description of torture you’ve given.

Ashengrotto-san spreads his hands, playing helpless. “You make me sound heartless, Prefect. If some wish to volunteer here at the Lounge with their partners, who am I to stop them? Of course, if they’d like to make a deal instead, my door is open to any poor, unfortunate soul who needs it. How about you, Prefect? Did you come here to soothe what ails your other half?”

“I don’t feel a tickle.” You say bluntly. “I’m not here to cherry pick. It’s all or nothing, I’m afraid.”

Ashengrotto-san sighs theatrically. “How unromantic. Anyway, I can’t honor your request, Prefect. After all, I’m not making them do any work that goes against labor standards or takes away from their time in class. They all had the opportunity to read my terms before signing, and if they signed they must agree with them. What kind of world would we live in if a contract could be easily nullified because someone feels sorry for the contractee? Society would be in shambles.”

He makes a show of shaking his head. “In other words, it’s too late for them already. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do to help you on that score—”

“And here I heard that you could grant any wish if someone makes a deal with you.” The words force themselves from your mouth.

Jack whips around to stare. “Oi, Prefect! What do you think you’re—?!”

“Wow, so brave Shrimpy~” The deranged Leech twin coos over your shoulder. “You’ve got guts.”

You’re lacking brains is more like it, but you force yourself to remain impassive.

“So, you would like to make a deal with me.” Ashengrotto taps his chin with a gloved finger. “Ffmm…there is an issue, however. You have no magic, and your singing voice is not worth trading for.”

Excuse you?

Excuse you???

The outrage at the slight to your musicality is surprising enough to almost distract you from what Ashengrotto says next. “You’re also not the sole heir to a country. You’re just a simple human.”

“Do you always insult potential business partners, or am I a special case?” You cross one leg over the other.

“Now, now,” The sadistic Leech twin behind Jack soothes. “No insult was meant. Azul was merely stating the unfortunate reality of your circumstances. Is that not so, Azul?”

“That is correct, Jade.” Ahensgrotto smiles disingenuously. “While you are no doubt talented in many areas, you cannot provide the collateral I prefer to deal in, so we must come up with an alternative. Say, the exclusive rights to the use of Ramshackle Dorm?”

A chill runs down your spine.

You know how collateral works. If you agree to this, then you’ll be forced to leave your dorm for as many days as it takes to fulfill whatever conditions he sets. If you lose, you won’t be able to go back there ever again. And you doubt Crowley will be so kind as to arrange any other accommodations if you barter your current ones away.

So your choices are between starvation and homelessness. Honestly, what kind of idiot would jump—

“I’M OKAY WITH THIS!!”

A pile of suds with Grim’s voice bursts through the doors and zooms its way into your lap.

“Minion, I can’t go on like this!!” He wails, clutching at your blazer. “Do somethin’, please!!”

You pull him into your lap on instinct more than anything else. He’s sopping wet and shivering, the flames in his ears guttering weakly. How much worse will it get if you try to draw this out for him, for Ace and Deuce? Can you really afford to play coy here?

“…If I were to make a deal with you.” Your words sound far away. “What would the conditions entail?”

Azul Ashengrotto smiles like you’re a fish swimming into a net.

“There is something I’d like you to acquire for me from the Atalantica Memorial Museum in the Coral Sea—”

“I’m not doing anything I could go to jail for.” You interrupt. “Please bear my situation as a visitor to Twisted Wonderland in mind.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s hardly anything serious. Just a commemorative photo by the entrance, celebrating Prince Rielle’s visit ten years ago.”

There’s a small intake of breath behind you. When you glance back, the controlled Leech twin gives you a placid smile.

“We went there in elementary school, didn’t we?” The lackadaisical Leech muses. “Heh, that place was pretty fun~”

“So why’d ya want it?” Grim asks.

“There must be some challenge to make this worth my while. We aren’t a charity here. If you bring me that photo by sunset three days from now, I’ll free all 225 of the students I contracted during exams.” Ashengrotto decrees. “Fail, and you will be joining our ranks.”

“All 225, and any who’ve made contracts on their behalf since then or I walk.” You counter. “I said all or nothing, didn’t I?”

“Also the Coral Sea is a country at the bottom of the ocean.” Jack interjects, his words only a decibel or two away from a snarl. “Land folk like us can’t get there easily since we can’t breathe underwater. This task is impossible from the get go.”

Is it just you, or does Ashengrotto-san look a touch irritated? “Figure it out yourself…is what an amateur would say. Potions of Water-Breathing are a matter of child’s play for me. And, as the Witch of the Seas gave the Mermaid Princess legs to run to her human prince, so I shall give you one of my potions. I’m nothing of not benevolent, after all.”

He pulls a piece of paper from his coat, which begins to glow gold as he writes on it with a fishbone quill. “So, three days to retrieve the picture, a carafe of Water-Breathing to ease the way, Ramshackle dorm as collateral, and the release of all 389 contractees. Are these terms generous enough for you to agree to, Prefect?”

You stare at the quill he’s proffering, dread calcifying in your stomach.

Ashengrotto tilts his head, a parody of consideration. “I’m a very busy man, Prefect. As pleasant as spending time with you is, I haven’t got all night. Please sign now, if you’re going to.”

Your mind races, trying to think of other options, of ways out of this trap you’ve so neatly found yourself in.

Refusing to sign gives you the most latitude, gives you time to get out of here and regroup. You could get Ace and Deuce to band together with the other contractees and all tank their grades so that Crowley has an academic excuse to order their release from service. You could maybe talk Cater-senpai, Trey-senpai, and Riddle-senpai into review-bombing the Mostro Lounge online, ask Jack to get his apparently famous soulmate involved, driving away Ashengrotto’s customer base until he gives up. You could even see if it’s possible to have Grim steal a customer’s credit card information somehow, then report the breach of industry data security standards to the professors who will have no choice but to monitor the business themselves or shut it down.

But all of those plans will take time. Time that Ashengrotto and his Leech goons can use to torture your friends, to turn his army of contracted students on them, on you.

You hate this, you hate this so so so much. But you never had a choice in the matter to begin with.

Just like last time.

You set your jaw.

You sign the contract.

So you get kicked out of your dorm.

Only Grim is surprised by this extremely predictable turn of events.

Luckily for the pair of you, your friends aren’t entirely heartless. Given that Heartslaybul is filled to capacity (and that you like Ace and Deuce, but not enough to endure their snoring or teeth grinding for three days), you and Grim elect to bunk with Jack in Savannaclaw.

Sure, you and Grim need to best the dickheads who tried to intimidate you during your investigation before Kingscholar-senpai will let you stay, but you need the opportunity to vent some frustration at the situation you’ve found yourself stuck in.

Especially when your soulmate’s dreams are overridden by a vision of the small fish mermaid from last time signing a deal with an octopus mermaid, trading her voice for legs to go on land. It leaves you with an awful taste in your mouth when you wake up.

Still, it’s good motivation for gathering your merry band of nitwits together to get this museum heist over and done with as quickly as possible.

“So…how should we drink this?” Deuce asks, tilting his portion of the potion back and forth in one of the paper cups Jack snagged from Magift practice this morning. “D’you think we should wait ‘til we get there to do it? Just in case it works fast?”

“How’re ya gonna drink anything underwater?!” Grim scoffs, pronged tail lashing. “S smarter to drink it now, that way we don’t end up drowning, ya know!”

“Alright.” Jack says grimly, tail hanging between his legs. Ace mimes a toast. “Bottom’s up!”

You all down the glowing green potion.

It tastes absolutely foul, like vinegar mixed with persimmons that had been left out to rot. You splutter, trying to get rid of the aftertaste—but when you suck in a breath, it feels like the air is scraping your throat raw, shredding you from the inside out.

“Sh-shit!” You hear Deuce gasp. “It’s getting hard t’breathe! We, we need to go!”

Jack’s arm clotheslines you through the Dark Mirror as you hear Ace yell. “Take us—huff—t’ the Coral Sea!!”

Breathing underwater is a weird sensation. The feeling of water going up your nose and down your throat, but somehow dissipating into clean, fresh, slightly salty air before it hits your lungs. You’re finding it a little difficult to get used to.

At least you’re not the only one, if the way Grim keeps screwing up his face like he wants to sneeze but isn’t able to is any indication.

The feeling of warm ocean currents drifting by you as you make your way across the seafloor feels a little more oddly familiar, in the way many things you associate with your soulmate do. A sensation that makes you feel at home, even as you experience it for the first ever time.

You’re so distracted by this that you almost don’t notice when you near the Atalantica Memorial Museum. It’s only Ace’s appreciative whistle that has you looking up at the pearl-shaded building, eyes widening as you take in the many thin spires that appear seashell-delicate, the crown-like structure would have certainly crumbled long ago if built on land.

You know this place.

You’ve never been here before, never seen it in person or a picture, but you know it.

Your soulmate has been dreaming about this museum intermittently since the start of the school year.

“What the fuck.” You mutter to yourself.

A pair of dark shadows blot out the sun above you.

“Aha, Shrimpy said a bad word!!”

“Please, Prefect.” Its twin is accompanied by a razor-sharp smile in a scaled-face. “There’s no call for such language when we’ve merely come to play.”

You don’t make it to the museum.

The four of you are left panting on the floor of the Mirror Chamber, licking your wounds. Floyd Leech has a Unique Magic that allows him to deflect any spells cast at him of his brother, so Deuce’s hands are red with freezer-burn from Ace’s ice spell while Ace’s cheek is scratched up from Deuce’s attempt at wind magic. Jack has bruises up and down his arms from where Floyd Leech’s tail ensnared him and began to squeeze.

There’s a stinging cut dragging from behind your left ear down your neck, where Jade Leech got his claws into you before you could yank free. Grim is similarly ruffled, trying to groom his fur down over a scrape from being smacked out of the way.

Maybe it was obvious, as Kingscholar-senpai scolds you that evening, that this was never going to be as easy as Ashengrotto-san made it sound. Still, it wouldn’t hurt him to keep some of his “told you sos” to himself, especially as he said nothing beforehand.

While Buchie-senpai did cement his status as your second-favorite Savannaclaw member by chiding his soulmate to be nicer and give proper advice to his kouhai, you’re not sure that trying to steal a contract from Octavinelle directly will go any better than your previous escapade. Even if they say that it’s just a matter of finding a weakness in the contract’s “invincibility”, you’re certain getting one will be just as arduous as sneaking into a museum, if not more so.

The dream you have that night, of the octopus witch trading the little mermaid for her father’s sea kingdom, doesn’t exactly allay your fears.

The five of you sneak in during the shift change, while the rest of the dorm and its indentured servants are either filtering out of the Lounge to grab some lunch or in to do some last minute food prep before opening.

You have fourteen years of practice at not drawing attention to yourself so you can pass unmolested. And if Grim clings to Jack’s shoulders and hunches down behind his head, it looks to the unobservant like the wolf beast-man is anemone’d too, letting him walk beside Ace and Deuce without question. You can’t quite believe that it works to get you all the way into Ashengrotto’s office, but you’ll take what you can get.

Which is of course when Jack’s ear twitches and his head shoots up. “Wait. Someone’s coming!”

“Shit!” Ace hisses. “We gotta hide!”

There is only one of hiding place in this stupid, fancy office.

As the second-smallest, you’re crushed against the back of the desk, contorted and struggling to breathe against Deuce’s bicep on your windpipe and Grim’s everything in your gut. You dislike enclosed spaces at the best of times, but this is ridiculous.

There’s the neat click of polished shoes accompanied by a cane. A small grunt of discomfort, before a series of clicks as the keypad is pressed and a clanking as the dial is turned to open the vault door. From your vantage point, you can just about see a sheaf of golden papers being removed.

You hold your breath when Ashengrotto-san sits down in his desk chair. Jack’s tail is barely an inch from his foot. If he looks down…

A deep inhale and exhale. Ashengrotto-san’s dulcet voice seeps through the wood, thick with laughter. “One. Two. Heh, heh, three…hm?”

He stands. He turns. The golden papers go back into the vault. The door is closed and snaps as the lock is reset. A click, click, click that grows fainter, until finally the door is shut.

You all stay frozen as you are for a good three seconds before you relax and tumble out of your cramped hiding spot.

“Freaking finally, fgnah!” Grim gasps. “I thought he’d never leave!”

“I think I strained something in my back.” Deuce groans.

“Wait.” Jack says suddenly. “He left one out on the desk.”

When you turn around, there is indeed a gently glowing golden sheet of paper sitting there.

“Lucky!” Ace cheers, somehow immune to all the warning bells going off in your brain. “Now we just gotta get it outta here and figure out how to destroy it.”

You frown. “Wait, don’t—”

Ace’s fingers touch the edge of the contract.

He jerks, elbows colliding with Deuce. Deuce’s hand shoots out to grab Jack for stability before his fingers lock into place. You see the fur on Jack’s ears go stiff and staticky, his tail nearly doubling in size as the same affliction passes to Grim, flopped over his shoulder.

Grim’s tail curls around your wrist, raised in warning.

The circuit is completed.

You howl as electricity rips through you, the shocks to your system turning your scream vibrato.

It lasts no more than a minute or two, but you’re left slumped against the desk and flinching as lingering static jerks through your limbs.

The door BANGS open.

Azul Ashengrotto is listing heavily between his cane and the hand he has splayed on the door. He stares at you all, wide-eyed.

Even in your state of jittery-post-shock, you can see he doesn’t look good. Almost as though he’d somehow been caught in the shock himself…?

But that’s not possible. He was outside, so how…?

You’re not sure how Deuce is moving with how painful the aftershocks feel to you, but for some reason he’s able to hoist you upright and behind him and Jack, forming a wall between you, the Octavinelle dorm head, and the Leech twins who are oddly silent for once.

“Which.” Ashengrotto seems to need to take a breath before continuing, “Which one of you?”

When none of you answer, he lets out an inarticulate noise of frustration. “I may be a benevolent man, but I have no patience for thieves or those who waste my time. So unless you’d like Jade and Floyd to go all out, you will tell me, which one of you is it?!”

It takes a moment for your jolted brain to make the connection.

Oh.

One of you must be his soulmate. That’s how it works here. That’s why he’s freaking out so much. He hadn’t expected when setting this trap that it would end up attacking him as well.

But that doesn’t make sense either. You’ve confirmed that Ace is soulmates with Sebek Zigvolt, while Jack’s mentioned that he’s known that the dorm head of Pomefiore was his since they were both little kids. It could be Deuce you guess, but then wouldn’t the twins go out of their way to avoid hurting him since it would mean Azul would feel it every time the contract was enforced? Maybe Grim then? But wouldn’t that lead to the same problems, especially when he gets used as a dishrag?

Well, there’s always you.

…

Wait.

What.

You tune back in in time to see Ace point his magic pen and yell, “COME FORTH, CAULDRON!!”

“Like that’ll hit anything!” Leech-san cackles over Deuce’s cries of outrage. “Bind the Heart!!”

You all watch as the cauldron rebounds off the empty air in front of the Octavinelle trio…and nearly murders all of you before you leap out of the way, crashing into the large vault door instead.

“AHHHH!!” Ashengrotto screams. “Floyd, where are you aiming your magic?!”

“Whoopsie. My bad.” Floyd Leech says, not sounding repentant at all.

Ashengrotto-san stumbles towards the vault, hands fluttering as he mutters. “There’s a scratch—do the dials still work? The hinges?? How many times have I told you to watch where you’re aiming?!”

“I said I was sorry! Geez, ya don’t gotta keep yellin’ at me!”

“It’s too late if it’s broken!!” As he passes you, your eyes flick to his neck.

There’s a reddened, recently inflicted scratch snaking up the back of it to behind his left ear.

Its mirror behind your own left ear feels itchy, all of a sudden.

But you have no real time to focus on this revelation as the five of you take advantage of the bickering between the Octavinelle dorm members to book it as quickly as you can, splitting off in different directions to make it harder for the twins to chase you.

There’s blood in your socks.

It squelches as you peel them off, grimacing at the weird, partially burned gashes on the bottom of your feet.

You know you’re lucky that you only have grounding injuries from where the electricity left your body. You know that.

It’s just. These are some of the only socks you own. And since you can’t launder them at Savannaclaw, they’ll stain in a way you can’t wash out. And sure, it’s not like you can’t wear them again, but…

You drop your head back against the wrought-iron fence behind you with a bone weary sigh.

You came back to Ramshackle out of pure habit. You shouldn’t be able to feel homesick for places you’ve stayed in for less than a year. Not while still missing the pokey little apartment left behind in your world as well.

“Hm? Oh, it’s you.”

You crane your head farther back to see the horned boy leaning over the fence, peering down at you.

“Ah, it’s Tsunotaro the abandoned building fan.”

The horned boy blinks. “Are…are you referring to me? Heh. A bold one, aren’t you?”

“You did say I could call you what I liked.” You remind him with a cheeky grin. It drops from your face as the reality of your situation dawns on you again. “…Though I guess you won’t really wanna come around here much anymore. After tomorrow, “abandoned” is the last thing Ramshackle’s going to be.”

He frowns lightly. “I had noticed this place seemed…livelier these past two nights. You are displeased by this?”

You groan, dropping your head to your knees.

The whole sordid story falls from your lips like overripe fruit, just waiting to bruise once it hits the ground.

“So Ashengrotto will claim the building if you fail, but has also made it impossible to succeed…” The newly dubbed “Tsunotaro” drums his fingers against the wrought-iron of the fence. “It seems that you’ve found quite the mare’s nest for yourself.”

“…the worst part of it all is,” Your fingers trace the scratch behind your ear again. “I. I think he might be my soulmate?”

There’s a pause.

“Oh.” Tsunotaro says slowly. “That does indeed complicate matters.”

“Tell me about it.” You huff, (gently) thunking your head back against the fence bars. “There is no good way to go up to a guy and say, ‘hey, I know you’ve enslaved half the student body and are going to do the same to me, but I think we might be soulmates so could you please not hold it against me if I foil your dreams?’ It’s just. He’s smart and cool and I can see there are parts of him that I find a,attractive, but he’s also so intent on this scheme that I don’t think I could convince him to stop, let alone stop him myself…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Tsunotaro hums. “I’ve not met mine yet. But surely entrusting yourself to yours in eternal servitude is a sign of devotion, no?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Pardon my English, but fuck that noise. Plus, do you know how pissy Ace and Grim would be if I let that happen? I’m not putting up with their whining for another week, devotion or no.”

He barks a noise that it takes you a moment to place as full-bellied laughter. It almost sounds…unpracticed, somehow.

“Well then, if that is the case,” His eyes sparkle with amusement as he looks down at you. “I trust you have noticed the rather splendid gargoyles adorning your residence, Child of Man?”

You blink. “You…you’re referring to the sculptures on the corners, right? The monsters that me and Grim had to peel the moss off of?”

He hums, pleased. “And a fine job you did too. You noticed, then, that they are not merely statuary but also serve as water spouts? A gargoyle is distinguished from a grotesque in that it functions as part of a building’s rain drainage system. They look fearsome, but help take such care of their homes. It is noteworthy, is it not?”

You stare at him, speechless at this surprise digression that has nothing to do with the topic at hand, your cold toes curling into the fabric of your bloody socks—

And then it clicks.

The booby-trapped contract, the scuffed safe, Ashengrotto-senpai’s panic over the latter but not the former—!!

“What you see doesn’t match with the reality of the situation.” You breathe. “It’s—it’s smoke and mirrors, to make us think that…when actually…!”

You tug your socks and shoes on with renewed ferocity, mind racing a mile a minute as your mouth babbles. “Sorry Tsunotaro, I mean, thank you so much for everything, but I’ve got to, to tell, to plan, the others, I, I think I know what to do now. Thanks to you. Thank you again.”

He chuckles as you hoist yourself upright. “It’s nothing, Child of Man. I wish you good tidings in your endeavors.”

With a twinkle in his eyes, he adds, “I look forward to hearing of how you showed your fated one the error of his ways.”

He vanishes into green firefly glows as you sprint back to Savannaclaw.

You’re going to have a long night of “persuasion” ahead of you and Grim to pull off the tentative plan forming in your mind. But, if you can get your senpai on board, then you may just have the chance you’ve been waiting for all this time.

The dream you see that night is from your soulmate, rather than the weird force that’s been plaguing you these past two days.

You’re staring down at yourself, your eyes wide and gentle and beseeching as they gaze up at you. There’s a delicate fuzz around you, softening your harsh edges, smoothing away the spots you know have been cropping up lately, making you into something small and soft, needy and welcoming.

A white gloved hand brushes your bangs away from your eyes (which do not have the bags you noticed last time you saw a mirror), sliding smoothly around to cradle the base of your skull as your mouth makes a sweet “o” of surprise and your eyes flutter shut. You grow even fuzzier as pair of glasses are lifted up and out of the way.

And—

And—!

You wake up.

You cover your face with your hands and try to muffle hysterical snickering into your palms in the hush of Kingscholar-senpai’s room.

Well.

At least you don’t have to worry about your soulmate finding you unattractive.

A pillow hits you in the face with an unceremonious whud.

“M helpin’, so shuddup ‘lready.” Kingscholar-senpai grumbles before pulling a new pillow over his head.

You roll over, burying your face in your futon to try and hide your grin. You should try to follow your senpai’s example in this at least. You need to get some sleep before your big day tomorrow.

But you drift off feeling more hopeful than you have in days.

You couldn’t ask for your part of the plan to go more smoothly.

You limit your explanation to just the essentials, both to spare your sore throat and keep the twin shadows you spot lurking at the edge of the courtyard from gleaning anything they shouldn’t.

Ace manages to charm a security guard into chatting with him about a famous mermaid princess while you and Grim sneak into the museum, lifting the photo of the prince’s visit off the wall and secreting it out.

You send a silent prayer of apology to the security guard whose faith in humanity will be shattered if the picture’s disappearance is discovered before tomorrow.

As if on cue, Jade-san and Floyd-san show up to keep you all from making it back to school.

During the game of keep away, you’re counting down the minutes. They need as much time as you can give them. Just a bit more. Just a bit—!

And then the anemones disintegrate.

“What the hell?!” Floyd-san yelps. “Where’d the anemones go?!”

“That’s not meant to happen.” Jade-san mutters. “How in Twisted Wonderland—?”

“I suppose I’m just lucky that you didn’t manage to ensnare Cater-senpai in a contract.” You sigh, rolling your neck. “After all, each of your Unique Magics are very cool, senpai, but even you can’t each be in more than one place at once.”

“What are you talking about?” Ooh, this is the first time you’ve heard Jade-san’s tone get this sharp, a far cry from the self-assured cool he’s presented up until now.

“In the event that you both are absent from Mostro Lounge, the chain of command defaults to Ashengrotto-senpai if any problems arise, right?” You run your finger over the edge of the photo frame. “And a restaurant full of rowdy, hungry Savannaclaw students? Well, I’d say that’s any manager’s nightmare shift. You could hardly blame him for getting distracted, right?”

Floyd-san scoffs. “What, you sayin’ you got Sea Lion to help ya? Like hell, he just wants to lie around all day sleepin’ like a sea lion on the sand. No way he’d pitch in for something so troublesome.”

“It’s true that Kingscholar-senpai values his rest above all else.” You tap the photograph against your chin gently in mock consideration. “So what do you think would happen if something threatened it?”

That stops them up short.

“We made a deal of our own, ya know!” Grim boasts. “If he helped us out, we’d leave Savannaclaw nicely. But if not…”

“We’d return every night every night and make such a ruckus that he’d never know another night of peace until he killed us or left NRC.” You chuck Grim under the chin. “And then we gave him a demonstration.”

“I blew out my voice from yelling all last night, fgnah!” Grim leans against you, “But it worked! Guess you guys were right—he really does love sleepin’!”

“Looks like it’s my win, for once.” You can’t control the victorious grin splitting your face. “Right? Leech-senpai?”

The two mermen stare at you, dumbfounded.

“Eeh…” Floyd rolls his neck, irises and pupils shrinking to predator pinpricks as he looms over you. “Shrimpy, I’m gonna squeeze ya real hard for this.”

A dark shadow descends.

Floyd-san barely darts out of the way as a cauldron plummets through the water where he’d just been.

“You can try.” Deuce vows beside you, magic pen at the ready. “But it’s not gonna be easy now we’ve got our magic back.”

“No more holdin’ back.” Jack rumbles behind you.

“C’mon senpai,” Ace grins on your other side. “Play with us some more~?”

It’s not surprising to you that both the Leech twins flee like a horror from the deep is on their tails.

It is surprising to return to Octavinelle to find the water turned dark, screams resounding from the dorm as if the horror from the deep has taken up residence there.

“YOUR MAGIC POWER AND YOUR ATHLETICISM!!” Ashengrotto-senpai howls at a Scarabia student from the center of a whirlpool of displaced sand. “GIVE THEM TO ME!!” The student topples with a shriek, formerly healthy body shriveling as he goes.

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO MAKE HIM OVERBLOT!!” You scream at Kingscholar-senpai.

“You’re the ones who told me to destroy his contracts!” He yells back at you. “I did jack shit, herbivore!”

Ashengrotto-senpai lets out a maniacal cackle as more and more students topple like puppets with their strings cut, magic leaving trailing tentacles of sparkles and blot floating in the air around him.

“THERE’S NO WAY THAT’S TRUE, YOU LIAR!!” Grim screeches from your shoulders.

“Jade…Floyd…” Ashengrotto-senpai croons. “Those bastards destroyed them all…my precious contracts…I’ve lost everything. I’m helpless like this. So give it to me. Your strength. Your power. GIVE IT TO ME ALREADY!!”

“Stop this Azul! You know better!” Jade-san barks while Floyd-san clicks his tongue. “Uwah. This is more lame than you ever were before.”

“Ah~ is that right?!” His laughter sounds almost indistinguishable from sobbing. You can’t stop the pang that goes through your chest. “Because I’m just a useless, dumb octopunk who can’t ever do anything right on my own!! Can’t even find my own soulmate when they’re right in front of me!! Well, it’s fine. I just need to get better then. I’ll keep improving myself until I’m the best I can be, until no one can resist me!! Until my soulmate falls to their knees before me!! A beautiful singing voice…strong magic…ALL OF IT BELONGS TO ME!!!”

You can’t stop the scream tearing itself from your throat as your soulmate is encased by blot.

Your shoulder is probably dislocated.

No, you wince as you shift closer when Azul-senpai begins to stir. Make that definitely dislocated.

You are extremely lucky that the whole-soulmates-sharing-pain thing only goes one way. It hurt badly enough when one of his tentacles yanked your arm out of its socket, and you saw Azul-senpai’s shoulder mimic it with a crack. You’re not entirely sure if all the blows the others rained down on him after that were ones your body could have survived.

“Wh-what happened?” He murmurs as Jade-senpai helps him sit up carefully. “I. I overblotted?”

“I mean, it’s understandable.” Buchie-senpai shrugs. “I know if anyone destroyed my piggy bank after all the stuff I’d saved up to put in it, I’d be mad as hell too.”

“Especially after all the effort you’d put in even without them…” You mutter.

“You’re a good guy, but ya need to shape up, ya know? No more usin’ yer skills for shady stuff.” Grim decrees with all the authority of an honor student.

“No, the one who needs to shape up and do schoolwork properly is you.” Jack sighs. He nudges you in the side gently.

“Huh?” At his meaningful look, you suddenly remember the first part of your plan before the second went to shit. “Ah, yeah. Here, we managed to get this from the museum.”

Kingscholar-senpai leans over to peer at it, one eyebrow raised. “What, so all this shit was over an elementary school photo?”

“Aha! This takes me back!!” Floyd-senpai cheers, reaching over to tap on two familiar looking eel kids in the foreground. “See, see, me an’ Jade are right here, princey’s in the middle, that guy in the back was one of the first ones we squeezed… And over there, in the corner…”

Your eyes follow his finger and you have to cover your mouth to hide a gasp.

“Baby Azul!”

There’s a small, squishy octopus merboy at the very edge of the photo, with glasses that are just a little too large for his face. He’s giving the camera a hesitant little smile, like he’s not entirely sure he’s allowed to, sweetly dimpled in each round, mochi-like cheek.

There’s no question about it. You would murder a man for this child’s smile.

“StooOOOP!!” Azul-senpi sobs. “Don’t look! Don’t loooook!!”

“My my, you should try and take it easy.” Jade-senpai consoles. His grin turns sadistic as he adds. “Just accept this as inevitable.”

“Y’know, I like this version of Azul the best.” Floyd-senpai says wisely. As you’re about to nod in agreement, he adds. “Looks more delicious that way.”

You clutch the photo to your chest, eyeing Floyd-senpai suspiciously. He snaps his teeth at you, snickering.

It’s decided that your little quintet will accompany the Octavinelle trio back to the museum tomorrow, to ensure the photo is returned unaltered. But before that, both you and he are in dire need of medical attention.

You really don’t appreciate how Grim cheers, “It’s time to go see that Nurse guy again, ya know!”

You notice Azul-senpai glancing at you several times while you walk to the infirmary.

He occasionally opens his mouth like he wants to say something—

But then he closes it again, and looks away. He hasn’t spoken a word to you by the time Nurse Kamac gives you two slings and the green light to head back to your individual dorms.

You tell yourself that the only thing souring your triumphant return to Ramshackle is the dream monster that brutally savages you when you lay your head down to sleep that night.

Your ability to lie to yourself seems to have deserted you, for some reason.

Floyd and Jade collect you and Grim from your dorm at what feels like an obscenely early hour, but in reality is only 9 o’clock.

You’ll admit, you enjoy the trip to the museum much more, now you aren’t under constant threat of them ambushing you.

But when Azul-senpai declares he’s going to return the picture, fall into step beside him as the others go off to see something called a “dinglehopper.”

“You don’t need to follow me, you know.” He chides. “I am capable of returning this without needing to be supervised.”

“Never said you weren’t.” You reply. “I just have my own reasons.”

He eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t protest as the two of you make your way over to the commemoration wall.

You’re a little concerned that no one had apparently noticed the large gap where the photograph was hanging, but you suppose that isn’t your problem as your soulmate returns the picture to its place.

“I so wanted to be like her.” Azul-senpai mumbles, a pensive look on his face. “The Witch of the Seas. But she faced her past head on and worked to overcome her reputation, while I…I just hid behind my contracts and tried to make it so it didn’t exist. Guess I haven’t outgrown hiding in an octopot after all…”

“I think you’re pretty amazing without any of the contracts.” You blurt out. “I mean, you managed to corner the headmaster through hard work alone, you know?”

He blinks at you. “Eh?”

“Yeah.” You huff a small laugh. “I mean, you managed to get Grim to score an 85 legitimately. Hell, you made Crowley so desperate he threatened to cut off my food stipend so that I had to get involved. There was literally nothing else he or any of the other faculty could do against your smarts and diligence.”

For some reason, Azul-senpai doesn’t look quite as pleased as you’d hoped at that information. “Is that so.”

The two of you stand there for a moment.

Well. No time like the present, you suppose.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Azul-senpai tilts his head and smiles at you. Benevolent. “It’s. It’s alright, Prefect. I believe I already…I already know what you’re going to say.”

You frown. “Can I say it first, at least? That way we can at least confirm neither of us have got the wrong idea.”

He twitches at that, smile struggling at the corners before he sighs, pushing his glasses up his nose. “If you must.”

You exhale, your palms suddenly much clammier than they were a moment ago.

“Well, as you’ve probably worked out.” You make a vague gesture between your sling and his. “I f-fit certain parameters to be your. Your soulmate.”

Oh dear Seven, this is so awkward it looks like it’s causing him physical pain. It’s certainly doing that to you. But you soldier on, “What you may not know is that y-you also fit certain parameters to be my soulmate. Because my parameters are not the same as your parameters.”

That stops him up short. “…What are you saying, Prefect?”

“Soulmates in my world share dreams instead of pain.”

Azul-senpai blinks as he digests this.

It’s interesting, watching him flush. The color starts as a soft sky blue in the apples of his cheeks, but gets darker and darker as it spreads, so the bright cobalt tips of his ears are set off beautifully against his silvery hair.

You never considered that mermen might have different colors of blood to humans. For some reason, you find this irrationally delightful.

“S-so.” He croaks. “But…that means—you, you saw…?”

You feel your own face go warm. You scratch one of your cheeks, unable to meet his eyes. “Ah, hm. Not, not on purpose? But I understand if that doesn’t make it feel better…”

Azul-senpai attempts to muffle a scream when he can’t comfortably move one shoulder.

It’s only kind of successful.

“But why?” He’s got one hand in his hair. “Why didn’t you say anything before? Why tell me now?”

“Azul-senpai.” You say, long-suffering. “When was the last time you and I got the chance to talk alone? Without Grim, Ace, Deuce, or Jack, Kingscholar-senpai or Buchie-senpai, or Leech-senpai?”

There’s a wide-eyed moment of silence.

“Ah.” Azul-senpai says, adjusting his glasses. “I see. Thank you for your foresight.”

The two of you stand there, avoiding eye contact. The tension is thick enough to drown in.

Well. It seems like you’re going have to be the brave one again.

“I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.” You start. “I knew how soulmates here worked, but I assumed that since it wasn’t how it worked for me, that you’d be an exception as well. And then a lot of the time I was so caught up that I just. Didn’t think. Even if I didn’t know it was you for sure until the day before yesterday, I should have taken more care, tried harder. I’m sorry that I didn’t. And while I can’t promise never getting hurt in the future, I swear I’ll do my best to keep any damage to a minimum.”

“An-And while I don’t have the,” Oh Seven your cheeks are burning. “The anatomy for some of the things? In the dream?”

“Please, stop talking—!”

“I’d still like to do them with you. At some point. In the future. Once we’ve gotten to know each other better.” Your voice is strangled as you admit it, your cheeks feel like they’ll burst with the sheer amount of blood filling them. “Much, much better. Maybe once we’ve graduated? And, and been d-dating for a while before that? I, I don’t know. Just, just my opinion, if you’re not interested, feel free to forget this entire conversation.”

Your hand is caught.

You blink at the other hand grasping it tightly. It’s cooler than your own, and slightly clammy, as if its owner is just as nervous as you are.

When you peek up at Azul’s face, it’s a deep shade of blue. His jaw is set, and he can’t quite meet your eyes as he adjusts his glasses.

“I-it would be s,something that—I mean, ne-negotiations would—” He cuts himself off with a frazzled noise. Then, slightly softer, “Yes. I’d, I’d like to discuss this. With you.”

Your cheeks are burning as you link your fingers with his, mouth unable to stop twitching into a smile as you gently squeeze.

“I’d really like it too.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #different soulmates method au #soulmates #soulmate au #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #twst yuu #villainous paranoiac yuu #azul x yuu #dream sharing #sharing injuries #in which Azul could have rigged everything #if he’d only asked if anyone else had the hyperspecific injuries he was suffering from

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