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The survivors of Oletus Manor has been acting strange lately.
No, scratch that. Almost everyone in the manor has been acting rather strange. Even some of the hunters themselves, sometimes they take one good look at the Mercenary, as if debating what to do with him, and then sigh out of nowhere and proceed to go friendly for the entire match.
Most times he just tends to mind his own business. During meal times he eats as silently as he can while also making sure to stuff himself full. He rescues and rescues and rescues his teammates in matches as he always does even with his delayed damage taking a toll on him. But then on times when he’d just wander about mindlessly on the hallways, somehow, someway, he’d encounter one of the survivors giving him a side glance and then muttering something he cannot understand due to their distance.
It was frustrating, because he knew it involves him, for some reason. But no one feels like letting him in on the joke, or whatever was up.
Not even Eli—that guy knew everything going on in the manor, from when couples secretly get together to who stole the last piece of chicken during dinner. Aesop never liked to share anything unless it was urgent for him and for whoever was involved, so it was kinda nice knowing both his friends wasn’t willing to tell him what’s going on (not). Tracy, whom he’d considered almost a younger sister (he cannot help it when he’d grown a soft spot for her, as back in the days when she was frequently called in matches with him, he commonly had to rescue and protect her), simply gave him a wide grin and told him not to worry about it even after he bribed her with cookies.
The traitors.
In his desperation, he’d ended up eventually seeking out their resident psychologist, Ada Mesmer, even when he knew he was treading on dangerous grounds when he knocked on her door and a glaring, very sleep-deprived Emil opened it for him.
(He used to disturb Emily for things like this, but ever since the couple arrived in the manor, she’d been threatening everyone who dared approach her for therapy with a syringe far more terrifying than he remembered it to be, telling them to approach the right professional rather than her.
Ada also wasn’t the right professional, but no one questioned her in fear of getting stabbed by the needle.)
“Mister Subedar, I believe I’d said countless times that I am a psychologist, not a therapist.”
“Fuck…I know, Miss Mesmer. But do you at least know what the hell’s going on? Because I’m really—It’s very annoying, at this point.”
She’d given him a long, pointed gaze with her hand ruffling and playing with her husband’s hair to calm him down after their sleep was rudely interrupted for this silly situation. Emil seemed far too satisfied with the attention as he melted under her palm. “Does it affect your performance in matches?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then there’s no problem, yes?” Ada frowned and ushered him out of the door. “Besides, I believe it’d be quite a fun experience for you anyway. Just go along with it for the meantime.”
His unannounced meeting with her concluded with him dejectedly staring at a wooden door shutting in his face, no answers and only more questions in his head.
He’d continuously questioned her words about him eventually having fun in the situation, as he was having anything but fun. It bothered him a lot, and it was one of the rare times he lamented not being more extroverted on the side so he could just enter any conversation and pry the details off anyone.
And so came a few more days that passed, and the first clue dropped onto him.
“Sayyyyyy, Naib~” It was Tracy who approached him first, wiggling her eyebrows with an almost cat-like smile on her face. They’d been outside in the garden that time, as he’d volunteered to help her carry some parts that she needed in repairing her robot. Yet here they were, not really repairing any robot at all. “Do you have any interest in, hmmmm….anyone at all?”
“What?” he gave her an odd look as he sat down next to the fountain. “What’re you on? Where did this even come from?”
“Come onnn just answer…please?”
“How is this related to fixing your bot?”
“I can’t fix the bot now because Luca isn’t here yet!” she protested as she sat down next to her, still looking at him expectantly for his answer to her question. “He said he wanted to see something, and maybe help in improving over-all performance. It was a pretty good offer, so I can’t just leave him hanging like that.”
“Guess he’s dependable only in matters involving machines, huh?”
“Hey, rude!” Tracy lightly slapped his shoulder for that comment. “He tells good stories too!”
“Does he? Even with the stutter?”
“Yeah! He’s very animated and entertaining. His hands fly everywhere when he speaks and he makes silly sound effects…hehe. Oh, wait. You’re trying to change the topic!”
The brunette didn’t look the slightest bit guilty for being caught. Instead, he let out a breath and crossed his arms, asking, “You’re not leaving me alone, are you?”
“Of course! Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret!”
Looking at her sparkling expression at the present, it was almost hard to deny her of what she wants. So his hands reached out to pinch her cheeks, leaving her yelping at the sudden action, clutching her cheeks with a frown. “Hey!”
“I don’t have time for that anymore,” he told her. “Besides, matches keep me busy enough to be looking for someone to hook up with.”
That, and…something else. But that’s not something she should know.
Tracy looked far from happy with his answer, though. She’d pouted and scrunched her eyebrows in thought after the entire exchange, only brightening up again when Luca Balsa finally came to join them, and together, the two ended up in a deep discussion about what they can do to improve the lifeline and durability of the bot.
It was a normal day as usual.
His next clue came from a certain somebody whom he found out has been having the same issues the mercenary was having recently.
It was in the middle of lunch, too, when Norton Campbell plopped down on the only vacant chair, which was next to him. He had a scowl on his face as he took a rather heated bite at his donut, but his ears were a surprising shade of pink. What an odd combination.
The entire time, he’d been muttering something about meddlesome ladies causing him trouble but not bothering to tell him what’s going on.
“Dafs wof, budji,” Naib off-handedly commended with his mouth full of the lunch that Ganji was assigned to cook today. To him, it was tasty, with their tastes being similar due to being from neighbor countries.
Norton gave him a scowl. “Swallow your food before speaking, moron.”
He glared back, of course, not really the kind to allow Norton Campbell to one-up him even for a single second. But even so, he swallowed the food and drank water as he was told, somehow managing to make the action seem threatening as he does so. “Mind your own business,” he spat.
“You started it.”
“You were literally talking my ear off with your complaining!”
“Who asked you to eavesdrop, mister nosey, short stack dwarf?”
This banter was probably the most childish one they’d had, especially taking into account the cause and the stupid name-callings. But it wasn’t like they could openly curse each other at the dining table, not with a certain blonde haired child within hearing distance, enjoying her meal with a satisfied grin on her face. He can almost feel Orpheus’s glare warning them to not spout even a syllable of any foul word.
Lost in their argument, they only came to a stop when they’d felt numerous eyes watching their every action. The scrutiny was prodding enough to intimidate the two. Naturally, Naib hesitated and sat back on his seat, chewing on his food with no other word as Norton does the same. The other survivors were trying to hide it, but it was obvious how they’d been watching through the corners of their eye, and some didn’t even bother to be discreet about it.
He side-glanced the prospector beside him, one eyebrow raised, and the man glared back.
(Let’s talk about this later.)
(Alright.)
But no one else heard that conversation.
He’d finished his food surprisingly quickly, standing up with his plate and dumping it off to the sink. He can feel a disapproving gaze digging into the back of his neck for leaving abruptly, but it wasn’t a matter that should be his business.
On his way back to his room, he’d started recounted all the hints he’d been given so far, trying to come up with the most plausible conclusion to the secret that everyone was trying (and failing) to hide from him. And most probably to Norton as well.
The side glances was already unsettling enough, and he didn’t like how even the hunters of all people were privy to this supposed secret information. So there was a massive chance that he was definitely the topic of this secret. He wasn’t sure if there was anyone else other than him and Campbell that’s been left off the hook, but he kept that place open for any further additions to his mental data.
Then came Tracy’s strange inquiry to him a few days back. She was never really the type to openly ask about those kind of things, from what he knew of her. She preferred the company of robots and machines, apparently feeling a lot closer to her late father the more she works on them. But she loved listening to stories, mostly one only hopeless romantics would’ve been interested in, but he didn’t really want to consider that girl actually being one.
And most important of all was their psychologist’s answer, not at all straightforward and only bringing about more questions than it was supposed to answer. It hadn’t made sense for him to have fun on something that so far only succeeded in annoying him.
A knock came to his door, not very long before he was about to tear his hair off and call it a day after thinking enough.
“Come in,” he’d grumbled.
So in came the tall man, looking ridiculously taller as he looms over the doorframe with a somber look on his face. He still appeared to be annoyed with whatever matter irked him before lunch, and it was obvious from how he dragged his feet as he walked towards the empty space on the bed where Naib was sitting at and collapsed face-first into the sheets.
“I’m tired,” grumbled the prospector.
“Get up, you lazy bum,” Naib had muttered back while poking the shoulder closest to him. “Tell me what’s up.”
“Can I…can I have five minutes? Kinda had a terrible lose streak today.”
“Geez, how many matches did you play?”
“You’re one to talk, ‘Best Rescue Survivor in the Manor’, Mister ‘I’m Banned In Matches, Boo-hoo!’”
“Hey, I’d have you know getting banned gets pretty tiring quick. It’s so annoying just having to sit back and watch everyone else play.”
“Oh, shut up. You get free time, that’s good enough.”
“Don’t compare me to your lazy ass.”
And there it was, a softer version of their relationship that no one in the manor would have expected. He hadn’t really known when it’d started and who did it first. One day, they’d been bickering in an almost too-aggressive way that scares off most that comes across them. It was easy pointing out every single mistake that they’d do in their matches, both feeling a nonsensical rivalry between who performs better and who screws up. But said rivalry somehow turned into an odd form of friendship between them, that led to an eventual calm and friendly banters in each other’s room without the spying eyes of other people.
No one knew about it, other than Eli and Aesop, who are amongst their closest friends so naturally they got to witness the two hotheaded men talking in a civilized way after a while of spending time together. It was also funny when the duo had witness it, with Aesop constantly rubbing his eyes to check if he wasn’t seeing things, and the seer just smiling widely as if he was a proud mother supporting two children that finally learnt how to grow up.
“So, what happened?”
“Crazy shit, man,” Norton rolled over so now he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling with scrunched eyebrows. “You wouldn’t believe it, but today, Vera literally walked up to me, right? And then—then she said…”
“She said what?”
“’You like Subedar, don’t you?’” Norton’s voice rose in an impressively high pitch as he imitated the perfumer’s tone. “’I have a lot at stake here, so you better answer me honestly.’”
“What the fuck—”
“Right?!” the prospector groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “She’s crazy. I don’t know what she wants though, ‘coz I left immediately…”
Now, Naib would not really say he was the brightest out there. His wit relied mostly on the situation, and he had always known how to properly read a scenario by being given situations. Vera and Tracy’s inquiries are getting quite suspicious though.
There was a possibility that popped in his head, but it was too ridiculous to voice out.
“This is just so weird,” he grumbled. “I swear, next time I see a friendly servant of Yidhra coming over at me with her axe, it’d definitely lose it.”
“…I hate how I completely understood how you felt.”
As for Norton Campbell’s side on the matter, he certainly was not having a wonderful time.
No, he hadn’t approached Emily Dyer nor Ada Mesmer for help in the situation, but he has asked Eli. But their fortune-teller was feeling like acting as a nuisance so he was far from fruitful in his searches. Emma had approached him multiple times already, asking in a not-so-discreet manner if he was interested in dating anybody he’s close with, and what kind of person he’d prefer to have as a romantic partner.
Something was seriously wrong with the survivors these days.
His last-ditch attempt to search for answers involved him asking for a private duos match with him as the only survivor while Michiko and Mary played as the two hunters. They’d not taken it seriously, of course. In fact, the three of them ended up having a nice chat over some piping hot tea that somehow came out of nowhere in the middle of the art classroom at the school building in Eversleeping Town.
“I am seriously begging at this point,” he’d all but sobbed into his cup as he downed it in a single gulp. Tea wasn’t really his favorite, but he had to deal with it. Especially as he was sitting in front of two ladies that seem to enjoy it. “Please, for the love of god, tell me what’s going on.”
“Is it not an issue within the survivors’ side only?” asked Michiko as she hid a smile behind her fan. “We are not really involved in it, to be quite honest.”
“Indeed,” agreed the other lady. “It took a lot of prompting and convincing before someone spills, you see. I’m afraid both of us has been sworn to secrecy.”
“B–but—”
“It’s okay, child,” hushed the dark haired hunter, once more picking up her cup to take a calm sip on it. “Just go along, and it may as well be a fruitful experience.”
“Fruitful how, exactly? This—Actually, hold on a second here. I’m getting bad signals with Emma’s questions. Please, please tell me they’re not meddling with my love life.”
Mary burst into a hearty laughter, far too loud to be proper for a lady of her standing. But she didn’t bother suppressing it, simply laughing so much that Michiko had to pry her own cup off her hands before it spills on her blood red clothes.
Norton’s bad feeling, upon seeing this reaction, naturally just worsened.
By the time the two hunters surrendered (just to make his record look a bit more bearable to look at after his unfortunate lose streak), the sun has fully gone down. Dinner was a quiet affair, surprisingly enough. Anne Lester’s cooking was simply to wondrous to keep everyone’s attention fully on their food. But even so, he can still feel a couple pair of eyes burning holes in his forehead.
Vera Nair approached him again one day, eyes blazing in determination, and a tired-looking coordinator dragging her feet after the woman.
“Norton Campbell, it is time for this to end,” she proclaimed in the middle of the living room, where only a few survivors (Victor who was feeding his dog some treats, Kevin who was napping on the couch) gathered around. “I must assure my victory here.”
His first instinct upon seeing her was to groan. He’s immediately had flashbacks of their last conversation.
“If this is about that thing again—”
“You blind fool!” she hissed at him, shoving a finger on his chest and narrowing her eyes at him. “Everyone with eyes can feel the homoerotic tension between the two of you! It’s time someone deals with it if you’re not doing it yourselves.”
Martha chuckled tiredly. “I know men are hopeless, but please calm down, Vera.”
“Exactly! Uhm, Martha, do you know where Ms. Woods is…”
“I think she said she’s on her way already.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Norton shot up from the couch he was melting in, a scowl now painting his face. He had his arms raised as if he was trying to ward the women away. “What’s going on? Lay off me, will you? I just want—”
“I’m so sorry, Mister Norton!” And so, the ever so sweet gardener popped up from seemingly nowhere, holding a bouquet of…was that the flowers he’s been helping her grow for the past months? Cut, just like that? He does not condone this, as the other parent to those flowers. “This is for the greater good!”
“What greater good, crazy—”
“For our monthly chores,” Martha’s firm grip grasped at him and forced him up from his comfortable position, face eerily serious.
“Not Captain Behamfil as well…”
“Oh, yes. It is time for our public service, mister prospector.”
If anyone heard him scream in pure terror on that time of the day…no, that’s impossible. He never screamed that day. In fact, Victor’s averted eyes and Kevin’s face hiding under the hat over his face told him that they knew nothing of what just transpired.
None of the survivors questioned it when he strode over to the dining room on their next meal time, donning the ensemble of gold and red of his Ronald of Ness costume, with the fancy hat and mask and all the jazz. It was the only outfit he had that passed the perfumer’s costume check, even if it was painful and too flashy to wear. Most that he passed had simply sighed in pain, and muttered something to the person next to them, looking suspiciously as if they were passing something under the table.
If he can have it his way, Norton would’ve just entered the room as he usually does, with his normal, not-fancy clothes and just have his dinner as he wanted. However, he’s been convinced (read as: threatened) by Vera, Martha and (surprisingly) Emma to just wear it and do as they told him to do. The trio turned had proved to him they can be quite a terrifying combination if they want to be.
The prospector, unfortunately, had to make his way halfway across the room just to find who exactly he was looking for.
“Listen, we’re tired of your pining, even if it was a bit…”
“Bit what?”
“Help me out here. What did Michiko call the two of them again?”
“Tsunderes?”
“Yes! That! Exactly. Even if both of you were tsunderes. And it’s become annoying. And it gave Fiona this really annoying idea to set up a ridiculous bet about when the two of you would get together at last.”
Excuse him but what the fuck.
“So, because I want to win and have everyone else do my chores for me for months, I will be leading this operation with two others here to finally end this tiring cycle of pining and denial between you two.”
Haha…shit.
“Naib Subedar.”
It was, what, the fourth time he’d called by now? But said mercenary had his head down the table, seemingly dozing off even with the racket around them with everyone keenly watching the progression of events. If his input were to be taken into account, Norton really does not want to do this in front of such a massive audience. Bickering and fighting? Yes, that’s fine with him. But this?
Simply embarrassing.
A kick to his ego.
It didn’t help how he can see Mike giving him a thumbs up from the corner of his eye. He can tell which side of the bet that guy was on.
“Naib Subedar!”
“Can you shut up, you loudmouth?” Finally, the man himself looked up, blinking away the sleep from his eyes and trying to fight back the yawn trying to escape his mouth.
“Listen to me.”
“Why should I? And why are you wearing that ridiculous outfit outside the match? You’ve finally gone crazy, huh.”
And then Norton knelt down.
Multiple gasps rang around the room. Somewhere a bit farther away, he can hear someone ushering the little girl away to a different room, away from the drama or whatever was happening in this room. Well, at least he doesn’t have to filter his words now.
But most of all, the most satisfying reaction of all was Naib’s sudden widening of the eyes, jaw dropping and staring at him incredulously. “Oi, what the fuck are you—”
“Naib Subedar, I’ve been threatened enough before I had to say this out loud, do not take this serious—Uh, I mean,” The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he tried to say the sentence. “I mean this wholeheartedly, so pay close attention.”
A breath of silence.
(Not really silence, he can hear Fiona, the main culprit of this misery, losing her mind somewhere in the background, screaming wordlessly and about to bang her head on the wall if it wasn’t for Patricia stopping her before she does anything too drastic.)
“Mister annoying, vertically challenged, reckless mercenary who’s probably fucking married to adrenaline rush like the idiot he is. I, regrettably, like you, but not in the platonic way, and everyone else said it is not in the rival way as well. Will you help me get rid of this so-called homoerotism between us and just fucking go out with me, you dipshit.”
And, to add more dramatic flair (because his Ronald of Ness outfit was obviously not enough, according to his critics), he whipped out an entire bouquet of flowers from behind him (where it came from was his secret and his secret alone), all but shoving it into the face of a dazed, sleepy mercenary that hasn’t eaten his dinner yet.
Naib was probably hungry at that point, but that doesn’t mean he appreciated being forcibly fed with petals from the garden behind the manor.
“You drunk, or sum’in?” the brunette scowled. “Fuck off, man.”
There it was, blatant rejection. Or at least he partially thinks it was. He wasn’t sure anymore, because the other man ended up taking the flowers anyway and setting it carefully on his lap.
Whatever that means, he wasn’t sure anymore.
At least he can tell Vera he tried, even with dubious results. He can see Eli clapping loudly on his left side, laughing about something that he didn’t bother sharing to anyone else like the little annoying all-knowing brat he was.
That night he crawled to his bed, curtains drawn back so as to let the moonlight stream in to prevent bad memories from being triggered. He can feel the figure on the space next to him shift to give him more room to rest.
With a heavy sigh, Norton spoke, “I cannot believe they seriously made a bet about us.”
“Now that I know, I suppose it was kinda funny, huh. No wonder Eli was having fun.”
“Funny where? You literally just had to sit patiently while I do all the work.”
The figure next to him shook with silent laughter, turning over so now their gazes can meet as they laid on the bed together. Naib was smirking in satisfaction, something he really wished he could wipe off with a kiss right now. “I appreciate the effort. Someone should’ve told me to wear my Inference one so we match though.”
“You’re surprisingly into this, huh?” Norton closed his eyes.
He heard it, another chuckle that he might as well listen to for the rest of his lifetime. It was comfortable and homey, the way Naib drew closer to him and threw a leg over the taller man’s waist. They both could hear each other’s hearts pounding from how close they were, a steady, rhythmic beat that complimented each other as if it was a unique melody that they made only for them. Eyes peeking slightly, he can see his lover’s features highlighted by the moonlight, can almost count each lash, and would’ve loved to kiss every surface of that face that he could reach.
There’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
On the bedside rested the same bouquet of flowers he’d given Naib during dinner.
They’re dating, after all. There was no need for the bet if that was the case. Only a handful of people knew as it was a bit too embarrassing to announce it in front of everyone. Ada Mesmer knew, of course, as Naib’s very tired and reluctant therapist. Eli and Aesop, those two were their friends as well so they knew.
Everyone else? Well, they should just go figure it out on their own.
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End.