aretaix

[aretaix]

Hidden Power: Prelude

※ Contains some spoilers for Puyo Puyo Puzzle Pop ※ Purely my interpretation of what transpired before Amitie met up with Klug in her episode and what Klug argued about with his book.

Topics: Klug & the Crimson Spirit, canon compliant

Word count: 1k

Note: I wrote this quickly so please let me know if there are any errors. Don't read this if you want to go into Puyo Puyo Puzzle Pop without knowing any story details...

Klug had expected today to be a day like any other, though he was thorougly perplexed by the unusual vibrancy of the trees, the slightly longer path to the school gates, and the distorted sound of birdsong. "Hm, strange, but I suppose it's nothing I should worry about." As he approached the gates of Primp Magic School, he was greeted by the familiar pillars topped with the school's emblem and another familiar figure. "Sig? What are you doing on campus today?" It was a holiday, so he expected to be the only one visiting the school grounds to get ahead while everyone else was slacking off. Sig didn't respond to his question, and as Klug approached him, he noticed that something was…off. He was leaned up against the front gate of the school, sweating and shaking while clutching at his left arm. Klug finally reached him, which seemed to draw Sig's attention as his unsteady gaze turned upwards.

"…Oh. It's you, Glasses," Sig replied shakily. "I'm just on my way somewhere else." His voice seemed strained and raspy, and he wasn't really looking at Klug, but somewhere past him.

"I see. Where are you headed today?" Admittedly, Klug usually wasn't all that interested in his classmate's plans, but seeing Sig like this must have been some cause for concern, right?

"That's…none of your business," Sig suddenly stood up straight, but his legs seemed heavy and his steps unsure. He walked forawrd and pushed past Klug, bumping into his shoulder and shoving him out of the way. Without turning, he muttered, "I just need some time alone…" and walked away from Klug, still stumbling and clutching his left arm tightly.

Klug blankly watched him walk away in a daze. He stood there, taking a moment or three to process the conversation he just had, if you could really call it a conversation when suddenly, a sharp voice from the pages of his book suddenly called out to him, snapping him back to reality. "Wh-wha--?!" He yelped and flipped open the pages, freeing a small red spirit from its confines.

"There's something very wrong happening here," the spirit stated frantically. "We need to follow him, now," it urged, trying to stretch itself out from the book to no avail.

"Uhm, hello? Mind giving me some more context to this?! Because between the two of you, I don't have a clue what's going on," Klug held the tome closer, keeping the spirit from straining itself to escape. "He's not normally so curt and you don't normally get this worked up about things, even when it comes to him-- Wait a minute," he stopped suddenly and looked around hurriedly. "How are we talking? Is this another dream?! I could've sworn I woke up properly." He started pinching and slapping himself, but it had no effect. "Wh-what in the…?!"

"I know, I'm just as confused as you are," the spirit of the tome had finally calmed down and spoke to Klug, though a hint of anxiety was still in its voice. "I saw you awaken this morning, and on the way here, you suddenly walked straight into a dream," it explained. "This is unheard of, and should be impossible." It turned to look at the path down the direction Sig had gone once more. "We have to go after him."

"A dream? that's preposterous! I mean, magic of that caliber shouldn't be possible," Klug scoffed at the spirit's explanation and shrugged. "But if it is the case, I'm sure Sig has nothing to do with it, he's barely all there as is."

"You saw how he was acting, though. You can not be honestly telling me that was normal behavior from him?!" it raised its voice and flared up at Klug, the pages fluttering in from the force of its anger. "If he is not behind it, then there might be someone else pulling the strings. Others besides me would want the power he possesses."

"Tch, and what do you want to do about it? Remember, you're still trapped in here," Klug said as he tapped the book. "It's not like you could do anything about this situation. I say we gather more information before running after him on another one of your silly chases!" Klug punctuated his statement with a slame of his book. The heavy cover squished the spirit back inside, though it still trembled with rage from its captor. "Calm down already!" He commanded while trying to muffle its nagging and whining. "We'll figure it out somehow--"

"Klug? What are you doing…?"

"Meep?!" Klug gasped and snapped his head around to see Lidelle standing behind him. She was looking up at him with that usual worried expression of hers, but she seemed more like a deer in a headlights than usual. "Oh, uhm, nothing! Nothing at all, just… Trying to get a stubborn fold crease of of this darn book, haha!" He awkwardly held the book aloft and made a show of pressing the covers together, as if he really was trying to get all the creases and dog-eared pages out of it. The pressure on the book squeezes more muffled and strained cries for help out of the book, though Klug attempted to cover those with laughter. "Hahahahaha! You see? Nothing strange going on here!" He flashed a grin at Lidelle, hoping she'd go away so he could collect his thoughts in peace, though her expression was just growing more and more concerned with his every word.

"W-well, you don't really look relaxed to me," she calmly replied. "You don't need help with something, do you…?" Lidelle leaned forward slightly as if to get a closer look at the tome, which prompted Klug to lower it and swiftly hide it behind his back.

"No, no, nothing at all! Now, uhm, just run along please! You're wasting my precious time with this idle chatter, Lidelle." He shooed her away and turned around, trying to avoid prolonging this interaction anymore.

"If you say so… Please, uhm, d-don't be afraid to ask if I can do something, though…" Her ears drooped sadly and she walked away, leaving Klug on his own, standing in front of the gates of the school. As soon as her footsteps faded away, he breathed a sigh of relief, examined the tome, and furrowed his eyebrows. "Just what am I going to do about this situation…"

#puyo puyo #puyo puyo puzzle pop #spoilers #klug #sig #lidelle #strange klug #one shot #fanfic #sfw

[aretaix]

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow

Chapter 1: A Reunion

A few years after graduating from the School of Sorcery, Lala receives a letter from an old friend requesting her aid in a dungeon-crawl. Set in an canon-divergent universe following Final Exam.

Read on SqWA

Topics: Lala/Arle, Lala & Camus, Camus & Arle, unrequited love, canon divergence, canon typical violence

There will still be some references to the Puyo Puyo continuity.

Word count: 1.6k

It all started with a letter. A letter from beyond the village, at that. Lala had never stepped foot outside of the village all of her life -- nothing besides a few odd jobs on errands to nearby villages. So a letter from outside of town, addressed to her of all people, was quite unusual. Though now she was regretting even opening the thing in the first place. Sitting in a dingy, dark pub wasn't how she'd been planning on spending her afternoon off. But... It's not like she really had plans.

Her life had devolved into a monotonous routine: help her parents at the temple, help out at the school, do errands and run deliveries here and there, and on it went.

It really had become dull without Arle to entertain everyone with tales of her adventures. ...Lala didn't realize just how long she was going to be away.

"Is Lala here?" A familiar voice came from the entrance. It wasn't the voice of the blue armor clad girl she was thinking of, but the voice of a dashing young man with dark hair and blue eyes that matched his magical earpieces. "Thank you," he thanked the barkeep and approached Lala's table, waving at her. "Lala! It's good to see you." He approached her for a hug, which Lala awkwardly returned after scrambling to her feet.

"Camus!" Lala blushed, "Wh-what are you doing here?" Camus let go of her and pat her head, causing her cheeks to redden more. "I received a letter in the mail today, can you guess who it was from?" Lala hid her dumbfounded expression, she thought Arle had only asked for her! Her letter never mentioned Camus!

"Uhh, was it your grandma?"

"Hahah! An excellent guess, but no, no, it was from our friend Arle! She's coming back after all this time, and she wants me to help her on a nearby dungeon crawl!" Camus looked like he was about to burst with excitement. Sometimes, Lala felt like she was the older between the two. He really hadn't changed even after all this time, always bombastic and wearing that stupid, silly, dreamy smile on his face. He had been their senior at the School of Sorcery, but he never had any dreams of exploring beyond his village to expand his knowledge. Somehow, he seemed perfectly happy staying behind to assist with running the school, and at this rate, he was on track to become the next headmaster.

"Oh, what a coincidence!" Lala turned around to hide her reddening face and pulled her own letter from her satchel. "She sent me one too!"

"She mentioned you in my letter, that's why I was looking for you." Lala's head turned around quick as lightning.

"She what?! She never mentioned you in my letter..." Lala frantically skimmed it again. This was so embarrassing...!

“I think she wrote mine after yours, haha, it sounded like she was worried that you wouldn't come along without...some kind of incentive?" He shrugged.

"Not sure what I have to offer you, though." Lala grinned in an effort to disguise her gritted teeth.

"Great," she said sarcastically. "Damn it Arle! And damn it Camus! How can you both be so boneheaded in two different ways?!" she thought to herself.

"Well, it'll be fun to see her! Let's both do our best, Lala!" He struck a pose that could be called...heroic if it wasn't so lame. She sighed, dreamily as she could. Though she couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just become lamer and lamer as the years went by.

"Yeah, let's give it our all," Lala said halfheartedly.

"Hey, you two!" The two mages turned around to see a familiar face. Arle grabbed Camus' hand and pulled him into a one-armed hug, who returned it gladly, and then did the same for Lala, who returned it...awkwardly.

"It's so great to see you after so long!" Arle beamed at them. Her skin had tanned from being in the sun so long, and her hair had a certain glow to it that it lacked before. She looked the same and yet, something about her almost blinded Lala.

"So, how have things been? I've really wanted to write more, but you know how I am."

"Things have been peaceful around here," Camus said. "A bit too peaceful, if you ask me. I was delighted to receive your letter the other day."

"Good!" Arle clapped her hands in delight. "I saw this dungeon was just nearby, so I knew it'd be perfect to invite you two along. And it's the best way to catch up."

"Guu!" A mysterious voice chimed in, and Lala realized that a small, furry creature with long ears and a strange jewel set into its forehead was standing attentively at Arle's feet.

"You're still hanging out with that...thing?" Lala pointed hesitantly to the yellow-furred creature.

"Huh? You mean Carby? Of course it's still with me!" Arle scratched its forehead. "I go everywhere with it. I don't think I could imagine adventuring without the little guy anymore."

"It's excellent to have a companion with you on your travels, I say," Camus exclaimed and raised a tankard. "Arle, would you like a drink as well?"

"Camus! This isn't a time to be drinking," Lala scolded before Arle could respond.

"What? It's a special occasion to see an old friend. Besides, we're old enough now." Camus nudged one of the containers against Lala's shoulder, but her nose wrinkled at the bitter smell of the alcohol.

"Haha, well, I suppose it wouldn't be any good for a temple girl to be caught drinking in the middle of the day." Lala rolled her eyes while Camus and Arle both laughed, her ears turning red from the conversation topic.

"Hahaha! Man this really brings me back, but I'll have to turn you down on the drink offer, I'm kind of getting sick of the stuff really..." Arle refrained from saying more when she felt the daggers from Lala’s glare.

"A-Anyway, let's get down to what I really wanted to ask you guys about!" From her worn bag, she pulled out a map covered in familiar and unfamiliar runes. Evidently, a ruin was unearthed near their home village and word was traveling fast! Adventurers were already flocking to it by the dozens, and Arle wanted to be among the first to get there before everything cool about it was snatched up by treasure hunters and merchants. It was unusual for her to dungeon crawl with others, Arle had always been a solo player, but it seemed that she wanted some extra muscle and support to back her up in case things got hairy.

"So? What do you guys think?" Lala and Camus looked at each other, then nodded back at Arle.

"Of course we'll help you," Lala reassured her.

"Yes, yes, anything for a friend of ours," Camus chimed in.

"Thanks, I knew I could count on you guys!" The three cheered and joined hands, and Carbuncle jumped onto the table and put his paw in with the rest.

******

The sun sunk below the treeline, tinting the sky a rich red. Together the party of three adventurers left the pub and walked to their respective homes. Arle was eager to see her mother again, so she dashed on without the other two. With Carbuncle in tow, the other two mages watched her bound off with the energy of a 6 year old girl. She found herself almost wanting to chase after her, but stopped when she realized she was with Camus. Her. Alone with Camus. She just registered the situation she was in. With her hands gripping her skirt, she looked up at him and smiled, grateful that the low light was hiding her flushed expression.

"Shall we head home?"

"Yes, let's." They walked side by side, occasionally interrupted by other villagers making their way home and by children playing in the low light, trying to make the most of the sun before it went to bed. Lala's breathing gradually steadied and she stole another glance at his face. He'd grown into such a fine young man, and her parents had always asked her if her childhood crush would ever bloom into a true romance, but...she'd never managed to work up the courage. The question could just never come up naturally, and there was always an apprehensive feeling that followed her when she thought of her love for Camus...

"She's certainly grown, hasn't she?" Camus broke the silence.

“Huh?"

"Arle," he clarified. "She's the same at her core, of course but it seems her time away from home has truly honed her into a fine sorceress."

"I suppose so... She could still stand to learn some manners," Lala harrumphed and turned her nose up, only for Camus to laugh.

"Ah, but then she wouldn't be Arle, would she?" "...You're right," Lala murmured dejectedly. The tomboy who just won the spirits' favor by sheer luck was really Arle, through and through, always going wherever the wind took her -- but something about her now really blinded Lala...metaphorically.

Somehow, the way she had grown in the few years she was away from the village made Lala want to see more of her. Unlike Camus, who had stayed in the village his whole life and was right there for Lala to have a life with, there was an urgency for her to be with Arle's side. Where had this come from?

“Ah, here I am. I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early!" Her train of thought was interrupted by Camus taking his leave and walking down the path to his home. She waved wordlessly to him with a small smile stuck on her rosy cheeks, but unlike earlier, she felt no desire to chase him down the path.

#puyo puyo #madou monogatari #arle nadja #lala #camus #fanfic #don't go where I can't follow #sfw

[aretaix]

5. pressed petals

Aya takes up caring for the school garden. Prompt: Flower language For the year of the OTP event.

Read on Ao3

Topics: Aya/Sig, one shot, flower language

Word count: 930

     She'd taken up gardening in recent months. Klug suggested it, really. They said it'd be a good way to familiarize herself with her new vessel, get herself moving, and get outside more.

     He made a sound argument, but she was reluctant to be outside where the sun would be beating down on her for hours at a time. Reading about plants and how to care for them was one thing, but actually *caring* for plants was something else entirely. She couldn't think of a good counterargument though, so she started by volunteering for the gardening duties at school just to get them off her back. It was a simple job and all she had to do was work in the school garden, and everyone was more than happy to help the "new" student with caring for the luneflowers and other flowers planted in the garden. Contrary to everyone's expectations, she ended up being the one to teach them about the flowers rather than the other way around.

     Luneflowers really were lovely flowers, perhaps her favorite after her beloved hydrangeas, and they invoked such fond memories in her heart... Well, maybe "memories" is too strong of a word. More accurately, they filled her with a sense of longing and nostalgia--a bittersweet sadness. She could never assign a face to those feelings, so her mind just conjured a blurry mess of colors and faint voices that had faded over time. She tried not to dwell on those feelings, at least not anymore. Thinking about it for too long would just give her another splitting headache and force her back into the cramped pages of that dusty book...

     She returned from her brief daydream and looked down at the old metal watering can she was gripping. She wondered how long she'd been standing there holding that. Embarrassed, she looked around like a nervous animal to see if anyone saw her do something so embarrassing. Her shoulders relaxed once she determined that there was no one in the immediate vicinity... She always came a bit earlier than the others after school since she tended to space out like this *and* she wanted the chance to do something without others watching...

     With a delicate hand, she plucked a petal from one of the luneflowers and a small blooming anemone. She sat on a wooden bench fashioned from a log, fished a small book out of her pocket, and tucked the blossom and the petal lovingly between the pages. Other dried specimens crunched as she turned the pages to the newest blank ones. She penned the date and type of flower on the pages and then closed the book, inserting it back into her pocket with a swift motion.

     "Are you allowed to do that?"

     Aya stood at the sudden voice and turned around. It was just Sig... oh, right, Sig was her duty partner today, weren't they? He stood behind the bench with a net in his hands, meaning that he was probably catching bugs before the assigned duty time after school as usual...

     "It's fine as long as I'm not caught, isn't it?" She retorted while averting her gaze from him back to the flowers.

     "Just asking. Never thought about doing that, is all," he stepped over the bench as he spoke, then laid the bug net on the flat surface. "Are you saving them for something?"

     Aya looked back at him, then to the flowers, then back to him. ...She didn't expect him to understand, but she withdrew the book again and flipped to the first few pages. Dried flowers and petals were were pressed to the pages, their colors bleeding onto the off-white paper of the notebook.      "Nothing in particular," she muttered. "I lack most of our--my memories-- so I thought keeping physical reminders would be...good... for me," she shut the book again and thrust it back into her pocket, eager to get this awkward interaction out of the way so they could both go home. "Even if they're bound to rot eventually, I want something to show that I was here." She gazed at the flowers again, that same bittersweet feeling creeping its way into her heart once more.

     "...Kinda like the luneflowers, huh," Sig replied, though she couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement. He picked up a trowel and began to work in the garden, plucking weeds and removing other foreign objects in the soil.

     "What do you mean?" Aya asked, quickly following suit with a pair of gardening scissors as she pruned and cut dying blossoms form the flowers.

     "You mentioned it yesterday," he continued, "That luneflowers have been in Primp as long as you can remember. Even before Primp existed, you said." They looked inquisitively into the large discs of the flower and continued their work, "They're sort of like a reminder from the people before Primp that they were here before, even if no one's around to tell us anymore."

Aya stopped her work and looked at the flowers. 

     "I suppose it's similar," She snipped a bud that had been burnt by the sun. "...I suppose that is what they mean to us now, but I wonder what they meant before..." she gently lifted a drooping flower head and thought of her lost memories once more.

     "Maybe they don't really need to *mean* anything," Sig stood and dusted the dirt off his hands. "Maybe it's okay for them to just be a reminder."

Aya looked up at him, then once more to the flowers, and smiled bitterly. 

     "I suppose so."

#sig #strange klug #puyo puyo #one shot #fanfic #yotp 2023 #ayasig

[aretaix]

aretaix anecdotes

eudiel or eudae. 21+ . ey/em

interests:  puyo puyo and madou monogatari, proseka, enstars, umineko, original fiction (with OCs), femslash/yuri, supernatural/human, queer fic in general

This blog serves as a mirror for my AO3 as I do not agree with their archival practices. As of December 1st, I no longer use AO3. New uploads and mirrors can be found on SqWA which is linked below.

I block people who write incest, pedo, bestiality, etc. I do not want to interact with self-ascribed "proshippers".

CW: I write about suicide frequently, as well as death and mortality in general. My work is mostly SFW with some dark elements. I write about disability sometimes and dissociation (I am multiple). Please let me know if any of my work depicting physical disability is harmful in any way.

All my posts are fine to reblog.

art blog . ao3 (no longer using) . sqwa

special thanks to cafekitsune and firefly-graphics for all images used on this blog!

tags:

I generally tag everything by fandom and character.

#one shot: Any one chapter fic greater than 1k words

#multi: Multi chapter fics. I recommend using the /chrono filter on desktop Tumblr.

#snippets: A catchall tag for ideas/work in progress/draft stuff

#hc: Headcanon compilation posts. Tagged by character.

#meta: Analysis stuff tagged by fandom/relevant character.

current projects:

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow - Lala/Arle slashfic.

guiding light - in the process of writing. fic about rozatte (puyo puyo) and arktos' (fan character's) first meeting as children.

the cry of a falling star - outlined, not written. a fic exploring a divergent canon following kaname tojou's injury at reimei academy. instead of a coma, he has suffered a severe traumatic brain injury resulting in loss of motor coordination and hemispatial neglect. it explores kaname's relationship with his half brother, the way he copes with being unable to pursue his dreams, and the change of personality resulting from his injury.

#pin

[aretaix]

afterimage

They say there’s a ghost on the school’s rooftop.

​Read on Ao3

Topics: Original characters, one shot, f/f, hurt comfort, magical realism

CW: Suicide, implied suicidal ideation, suicide attempt that is not completed, implied bullying

Word count: 1.4k

There was a story at my school. They said my school was haunted – some generic story of a girl who died decades ago. It would change depending on whom you asked: some said she committed suicide, and others said she died when a fire broke out at the school… it wasn’t ever consistent. I knew that there was a kernel of truth in all of them, though. All rumors have at least one true thing.

I learned that yes, there was a fire at the school. No, there were no suicides on school grounds that were recorded. There were records of mortalities, but no names, just numbers. Some of the dates lined up. That was enough to satisfy my curiosity.

The rituals to get her to appear were all different too. Some said you had to wear a red ribbon around your pinky and cut the ribbon when you get to the roof, and others said you had to walk up the stairs with a mouth full of saltwater. Some said you had to put your hair up or else she’d light it on fire.

Since I wasn’t sure which would work, I decided to do all of them at the same time. I tied my hair up and emptied salt packets into a plastic bottle, the emptied packets drifting lazily to the bathroom floor like the petals of a dying flower. Tepid tap water flowed from the faucet into the bottle then over my hands, drenching the ribbon tied around my finger. I wondered briefly if that would affect the ritual, but I shrugged it off since these legends were never that specific. Rumors were more about the intent than the actions. Once it was full, I capped it, shook the bottle, and watched the salt dissolve into the clear liquid.

I’d stayed after school hours before, but I had to be more quiet than usual this time. Most people didn’t stay after on Fridays. And besides…I didn’t want people asking why I was drinking bathroom tap water.

With the bottle pressed to my lips, I filled my mouth with saltwater and took care not to swallow any. I poured it in until my cheeks poked out like pufferfish. Since I took extra care so no one would notice me and so I wouldn’t spill a drop of water, ascending the stairs took forever.

Once I reached the top, I pushed the heavy door leading out onto the rooftop open. After glancing around quickly, I undid the ribbon on my pinky and waited.

“Y’know, if you’re trying to look ridiculous, you’re doing a really good job at it”. Startled, I spun to look at the speaker with my cheeks still full of water. A lanky girl leaned against the wall behind the door, right where a less observant person wouldn’t see. We locked eyes… and I wasn’t sure whether to swallow or spit out the water. But as if reading my mind, she said, ��…You can spit it out, you know,” the girl spoke while a mischievous smile crept onto the ends of her mouth.

I spat it out, though her laughter made it feel like I was vomiting in slow motion. Her eyes remained fixed on me while I wiped my face with my sleeve and spat out the salt sticking to my tongue. She didn’t look like a ghost, at least not at first glance. Long and messy brown hair draped over her shoulders. Her hazel eyes reflected the sunset’s reddish light in an almost unearthly way – as if she was staring right into my heart.

“Are you the–”

“The ghost? If you want to call me that, sure.” She stood straight and walked towards me like a curious animal. “You’re the first person not to run off screaming to tell her friends.” She inched closer and closer, her golden eyes shimmering with unknowable intent. I rubbed my damp hands against my skirt and gripped it tight to hide my trembling.

“I just wanted to find out the truth,” I almost said, I don’t have any friends which wouldn’t have been a lie… but it’s not something I wanted to tell the not-ghost not-human girl.

“The truth? Hah, I think I’m better left as a rumor barely clinging onto life,” she laughed frostily. Though, it’s nice to not have someone running off, for once.” Her fingers combed through her hair, and she looked at me again with those piercing eyes. “…But… you don’t look like one of those goth occult-y types that usually come up here to harass me.” Curiosity colored her words, even if it wasn’t an obvious question.

“…I was wondering if there was someone up here to stop me.” The words flowed naturally from my lips. I felt like the air around her was pulling my feelings out of my chest, spilling them for everyone to see.

“Stop you?” She asked.

My eyes darted away from that unshakeable gaze. I knew that if I kept going, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

Silence filled the space between us, punctuated by the chirps and coos of birds flying overhead. I walked away to the edge of the rooftop. A wire fence was the only barrier that stood between me and the ground, which lay far, far below. The shadows’ crosshatch pattern covered the whole roof in a cloak as if its solidness was dissolving in the early evening shadow. Faint footsteps approach me from behind and a hand pressed lightly on my shoulder, but I barely noticed until she started speaking again.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I can’t promise to ‘stop you’,” Her words would’ve sounded unfeeling to anyone else, but to me, they were the greatest comfort. Everyone else – the few who would listen anyway – would press me for the finest details. They’d ask as if they hadn’t already turned a blind eye towards me, all the people who would walk away when those girls cornered me, and–… no, these feelings aren’t for display here, either. My pain isn’t for anyone else’s entertainment. I turned to the spectral, yet material girl who seemed to occupy a space in between those worlds.

“But do you understand how it feels… to just be a spectacle?” I struggled to meet those burning eyes of hers, those that were filled with more vitality than my own.

“I do,” she stepped closer to the fence and put her fingers through the openings. “I mentioned earlier, didn’t I? Those goth occulty types just come up here to harass me,” her mouth twisted into a grimace.” To them, I’m nothing more than a grotesque rumor given shape. Proof of whatever fantasy they have of this school’s ‘dark secret’,” she removed her fingers which clinked against the fence as they made contact with the metal, then she looked at me. With the sunlight behind her and the shadows cast over the roof, her form melted into the darkness. “You don’t have to tell me anything now, but I’m always up here,” her expression of disdain turned into one of kindness. “It is nice to have someone that isn’t running off in fear or to tell people that ghosts are real.”

I instinctively drew closer to her. Was it pity? Sympathy? Did I feel like she was a kindred spirit? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t even sure if she was a ghost, a demon playing a prank on me, a figment of my imagination, or someone playing along with my delusions for their amusement. But it didn’t matter, for once, I felt seen, not obligated to spell things out for someone. Cautiously, I wrapped my arms around her. I was afraid that holding her too tightly would make her shatter and disappear.

She felt intangible in my arms as if she’d disappear if I took my eyes off of her for even a second. At that moment, I took that risk and closed my eyes. Something pressed to my forehead, too soft to be a hand yet too light to be a cheek. From the warmth, I imagined it was her lips. It was too faint to be a kiss, but just enough to show she understood what I was trying to say without words. Us two spectacles were alone at last.

We stayed that way for what felt like an eternity. I was afraid that if I clung too long, she’d disappear. I pulled away from her, and my worries were confirmed. Instead of the phantom I had embraced, there was nothing there but empty air – she hadn’t even left an afterimage. Yet this instilled a strange sense of security in my heart as if I knew we’d see each other again when the time was right.

#original #one shot

[aretaix]

visiting home

Shu runs to the one place he can be himself.

Read on Ao3

Topics: Kuro/Shu, fluff, hurt/comfort, one shot

CW: Mentions of parental death, implied abuse, implied gender dysphoria from Shu’s perspective

Word count: 1.2k

​Drops of rain fell from the sky in time with irregular steps hitting the pavement. A figure ran through the rain, showing no signs of stopping or slowing down. Streaks of rains drenched their face and obscured the hot tears streaming down their face. They suddenly skid to a stop in front of the entrance to a run-down apartment building, as if they'd nearly forgotten it was there. The building sunk into the gap between two taller ones ones, and it was obscured by the shadow cast. It loomed above them and seemed to drip with menace, as if it was angry that they'd forgotten it was there.

The figure raised their hand to the buzzer, hesitating as they remembered which to press, and then decided on one.  

"...Who is it?" a staticky voice hoarsely spoke from the speaker.

The figure gulped and took in a breath.  

"...It's Shu."

The static from the other end cut off without another word. Shu swiped his wet sleeve across his face and sucked in air through his teeth, turned his back towards the gate of the apartment building, and was about to take his leave when it creaked open.

"Icchan?" Kuro stood in the entrance. He'd grown taller. Muscle tape was wrapped around his forearms and an ugly bruise decorated the side of his cheek. But it was the Kuro that Shu recognized, and he was still using that childhood nickname for Shu.  

"Ry- Kuro. ..." Shu greeted him. He stood beneath the awning awkwardly. He was drenched, shivering, and half-dying of the cold like some sort of stray animal, and yet here he was, desperately looking for safety in the only place left. "It's been quite some time," he quickly added.  

"Yeah... It has," Kuro leaned against the gate. They hadn't seen each other for a few years now, not since his mother passed away. "Uh, come on in, sorry for not invitin' ya in sooner," Kuro stepped aside and Shu shoved his way past him. They were both about the same height and almost the same build now, which took Kuro by surprise. "C'mon, I'll get ya a towel and some clean clothes." He instinctively reached one of his bandaged hands out towards Shu, who took it without a word. In spite of his growth spurt, Shu's hands were still small and delicate. They were a reminder of the promise Kuro had made to his mother -- and himself -- all those years ago. The pair walked in silence to Kuro's residence, a silent communication between childhood friends to not ask too many questions. Shu's face had already told Kuro everything he needed to know. A question like, "How bad was it?" or "What happened this time?" would just be rubbing salt in Shu's already wounded heart.

Kuro's home was mostly the same as when Shu was last there. Though, there was less death lingering in the halls this time around. It felt empty and less warm without Kuro's mother, but Shu knew that wishful thinking would get him nowhere. He took off his shoes and drenched coat, leaving it on a bookshelf where a number of wet jackets had already piled up. "Please forgive my intrusion," he mumbled robotically  

"No worries, you ran all this way. I'll fix up some tea for ya and get a towel for you."

Shu nodded. He was glad Kuro wasn't the kind to ask too many questions, but he knew...that he was all too familiar with this situation. He remembered standing in this doorway, cuts and scrapes all over his legs from the other boys playing too rough on the playground with him, stealing his dolls, pulling on his hair, and ruining his clothing. Other times it was just wounds on his heart, a harsh word from his parents or a tease that went too far from his brother that resulted in an evening run from his own home to Kuro's, where a gentle voice and a hot cup of tea would always be waiting for him.

Kuro returned to the living room and handed Shu two towels. He rubbed one on his head, an instinct from when they were younger and would come home in the rain together after school. Shu tried to protest, but he found himself yielding to Kuro's kind instincts, which grew naturally from protecting Shu as well as his own younger sister.

"There ya go. I can get ya some clothes too, but I'll fix up a pot of tea for ya first," Kuro wrapped the larger towel around Shu's shoulders and gestured for him to sit on the small couch in the living room.  

"Thank you. ...Where is your younger sister?" Shu asked, trying to make conversation.

"Ah, she's at a friend's place. We've got some extra futons if you need to spend the night," Kuro replied while walking into the kitchen to prepare the tea.

"That... would be appreciated, thank you," he nearly said that it "wouldn't be necessary", but perhaps it'd be best to stay away from his own home for tonight as well. Shu sat on the couch and looked around the apartment. It really was the same, yet the colors seemed more drab. There were less sewing supplies scattered about, too. The days where a complicated sewing pattern was laid out on the small coffee table and yards of fabric encroached what little living space there was in the apartment felt like a child's fantasy in Shu's mind. They weren't children anymore, Shu knew that, he had to "man up" eventually...but he dreaded the thought of becoming like Kuro. The bruises and bandages littering his skin were a far cry from the beauty that Shu strived for in his life. He sunk into the couch, curling his oversized knees to his chest and pulling the towel over his shoulders, which had also grown too big for his liking. Never before did he want to shrink so badly, to be small, unnoticed, to just be an innocent child again. Then again, his childhood days were far from "pure" and "peaceful" by others' standards. It was like he no longer recognized himself in the mirror.

Shu's ruminations were interrupted when Kuro walked over with a tray in his hands. Mismatched tea cups and a chipped teapot were laid out on it. He sat down next to Shu and poured the tea into the cups, handing one to him with his own oversized hands. Unlike Shu's hands, Kuro's were larger, and the tape and bandages wrapped around them just seemed to accentuate the size. Even if they might have contained a frightening power, they made Shu feel safe and protected, though he'd never admit that. His cold, rain-soaked fingertips brushed against Kuro's warm ones when the teacup transferred hands, and Shu mouthed a silent "thank you". The cheap and mass-produced bagged green tea was a far cry from what he drank at home, but the quality reminded him of the nights he'd spend with Kuro and his mother, in the only safe place he had in this world.

Shu leaned into Kuro, not saying another word. He just clutched the teacup and let the warmth steep into his body, and let the atmosphere of a run-down apartment like this pull him into a soft embrace - an embrace from the only place he called "home".[p

#shu itsuki #kuro kiryu #enstars #one shot #fanfic