Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rain tapped lightly against the school bus window, tracing lazy rivers down the glass. Sunny watched them race, merging and splitting in tiny, chaotic patterns. It was peaceful... until a can of Orange Joe bounced off the side of his head.

"Look what you did, you moron! You hit Sunny with your stupid drink!"

"It's your fault!" Kel snapped back. "If you weren't so nosy about what I drink..."

The two of them were at it again. Aubrey stood up from her seat, ready to throw more words, while Kel flailed dramatically. Meanwhile, Basil shrank into his plant book, clearly wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

Sunny barely managed a wince, more from the noise than the impact. The sticky remains of the soda dripped down to the floor, soaking into his yellow shorts.

"Hey! Sit down, both of you!"

Mari’s voice cut through the bus like a sharp chord. She turned around from the front seat, her long black hair swaying as she glared at them. She looked tired, not angry... though her stern tone still made both Kel and Aubrey freeze.

"You're causing a scene" she scolded, walking down the aisle with her usual grace. "I can't believe you're acting like this."

Aubrey huffed and crossed her arms, still glaring at Kel. Kel gave an exaggerated shrug, suddenly sheepish. Mari sighed, then fixed them each with a different kind of look... disappointment for Aubrey, and quiet expectation for Kel. She was good at that. Too good.

She turned to Sunny for a second, her eyes softening, but the moment passed. She walked back to her seat without another word. Sunny looked down at the sticky stain on his shorts. He didn’t say anything. He never did.

The bus jolted forward again. The chatter slowly returned. Situations like this happened often. They were noisy, embarrassing, maybe even a little annoying… but they were also kind of fun. The kind of memories kids were supposed to have.

The kind he told himself he should be grateful for.

The rest of the ride passed in a strange kind of quiet. The rain hadn’t stopped, and neither had Sunny’s thoughts. He kept staring out the window, watching the world blur past. Trees, signs, people... just shapes blurred by the storm that was already ending.

When the bus finally stopped, everyone poured out in a rush of jackets and backpacks. The six of them stuck close together, as usual, even if not all of them wanted to be.

"Ugh, my hair is gonna frizz," Aubrey groaned, tugging her hood up. “I swear this weather is cursed.”

"It’s not cursed," Basil said softly, his fingers adjusting the strap of his camera bag. "Rain’s good for the flowers. And for trees. And frogs."

"Great. Maybe I’ll turn into a frog," she muttered.

Kel grinned. “Too late for that.”

Aubrey elbowed him without hesitation. He yelped but kept smiling, like it was worth it.

Sunny stayed behind them, not really walking with the group... more like orbiting it. Not invisible, but quiet enough to be forgotten. Then a voice called out...

“Sunny?”

Mari had waited for him, umbrella in hand. Her skirt danced in the breeze, and her long socks were already a little damp near the toes. She offered him a smile, warm and familiar.

“You okay?” she asked.

Sunny nodded once.

She tilted her head, a little skeptical but not pushing it.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up before Mom sees your shorts. You smell like Orange Joe.”

He followed her without a word. Not because he had to, but because it was Mari. And if Mari said to come along, you did. They walked side by side under her umbrella. Mari hummed something, maybe a song she’d heard on the radio, maybe something she made up. She did that a lot. When they reached the house, she opened the door gently and led him straight to the laundry room.

"Take those off. I’ll throw them in the wash," she said, rummaging for a towel. “I’ll grab you a spare.”

Sunny hesitated, standing there in his damp clothes, his arms glued to his sides.

“Don’t worry,” she added with a playful wink, “I'll go away”

She left the room, and for a second it was just the sound of the washer humming and the faint creak of footsteps upstairs. He peeled off the shorts and wiped his legs with the towel she’d left. The soda was sticky and cold.

Mari returned a moment later, tossing a pair of pajama pants at him. The yellow ones... he hated those.

“I couldn’t find anything else,” she shrugged, grinning. “They’re comfy, though.”

Sunny stared at them. His face didn’t change, but Mari could tell he was unimpressed. Sunny changed in silence, then followed her into the living room, where the others were already waiting.

Kel was upside down on the couch, blood rushing to his head.

Aubrey was complaining about something on TV.

Hero was trying to read while also calming down the chaos.

Basil sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through his photo album, humming under his breath.

It was loud. Familiar. Normal.

"Alright, everyone, who's hungry?" Mari called from the kitchen.

A chorus of voices answered.

Sunny sat beside Basil and peeked over his shoulder at the album. Pictures of picnics, summer fields, birthdays. Laughing faces. Warm colors.

"You look happy in that one," Basil whispered, pointing to a photo of Sunny smiling... really smiling. Not the ghost of one. A real one.

Sunny didn’t respond, but he didn’t look away either.

"Maybe we can take more like that soon," Basil added, hopeful.

Maybe, Sunny thought.

Dinner was simple: rice, egg, and a little grilled fish. Mari always made sure they ate, even when their parents were busy or too tired to care.

Later, they played a board game. Kel kept cheating. Aubrey kept yelling. Hero kept apologizing for both. Mari pretended not to notice. Basil giggled more than he spoke. Sunny moved the pieces when it was his turn. He didn’t laugh. But he was there. And that meant something.

When the night wound down and everyone was heading home, Mari touched Sunny’s shoulder gently.

“You’re quiet today,” she said. “Quieter than usual.”

He looked up at her.

She smiled. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk. I just wanted you to know I see you.”

Sunny blinked.

Mari sighed and looked ahead at the retreating figures of her friends. Her face changed to a more serious one.

"Tomorrow... tomorrow we're going to start practicing for the recital. You know how Dad reacted when I told him you were going to participate too. Try to be per... try to do your best, Sunny."

He wasn’t sure what to say, so he said nothing. But for a moment, he wished he could.

Just one word. Just once.

As always… it stayed inside.

Chapter Text

A couple of days later...

Mari laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling as the first light of dawn crept through the curtains.

Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt over the harsh words she had spoken to Sunny these last few days. She knew he was trying his best, but the pressure from their parents, the expectations placed upon her... it was all just too much sometimes.

Mari sighed, rubbing her temples. Her anxiety attacks had been getting worse lately, triggered by the smallest things.

She hated losing control like that, hated feeling weak and vulnerable. She especially hates it when her dad starts stressing her out with his perfection bullshit.

She doesn't know how this all started, not just her stress or the recital, but that obsessive perfectionism that sometimes happens to her. She's had it for as long as she can remember.

She remembers how perfectionism earned her first signs of pride from her father. She remembers that feeling of being recognized, of having done something so perfect that it must be framed for everyone to see.

She remembers how it made her feel special, chosen.

The memory brings a sharp pang to her chest, and she rolls over in bed, burying her face in her pillow as tears threaten to fall. She feels so conflicted about all of this, about what it means to be perfect, what it means to be a daughter, a sister, a friend. But mostly, she feels exhausted, drained by the constant pressure to be more, do more, achieve more.

It hurts even more when she remembers how that same perfectionism marked her as a bad person during her childhood. Her family was still living in the city at the time. She remembers how she used to sabotage other children to gain the teachers' approval. She remembers how the children looked at her, hated her.

That was the first time she realized that perfectionism isn't always a good thing.

She remembers how she used to hide in her room, crying, when no one was around.

She remembers the emptiness she felt, the isolation.

She remembers the day she decided to change, to be a better person.

The day Sunny came to her life.

That day, she vowed to herself that she would never hurt anyone again, no matter the cost. But sometimes, she still feels that old emptiness creeping back in, that loneliness that comes from always trying to be perfect, from never letting anyone see her true self.

Mari rolls over again, facing the wall. She can feel Sunny getting up from the bed next to her. She knows it's time to get up, it's Saturday but they still have to practice, but she can't even move, she feels like if she were to stand up she would start crying.

Sunny sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes sleepily. The sun is just starting to peek through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. He looks over at Mari, who is still lying on her side facing the wall. He can tell she's awake too.

"Mari?" he says softly, not wanting to startle her. "We should probably get up and practice, huh?"

There's a long pause before Mari responds, her voice muffled by her pillow.

"I don't think I feel like practicing together today. Why don't you have breakfast and go hang out with Basil?"

Mari doesn't move, her back still turned to Sunny as she speaks.

"I just... I need some time alone, okay? Go on, I'll be fine." Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, hinting at the emotions she's trying to hide.

Sunny hesitates for a moment, he thinks she's still mad at him about yesterday's practice. In the end, he just nods, even though she can't see him.

"Okay," he says softly.

"I'll go find Basil then." He stands up and starts getting dressed, stealing glances at Mari's unmoving form as he does so.

Once he's ready, he pauses by the door.

"Mari?... I'm sorry"

Before she can react, he's gone.

...

The weight of her emotions is too much for her, she can't stand up, she can't keep getting up like she's been doing all these years, not anymore.

Chapter Text

As Sunny walks down the stairs, a little sleepy, his feet feel heavy, still regretting not being able to meet Mari's standards. The house is silent, except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway.

His parents must have already left for work by now; that was for the best, Sunny thought. He didn't want to face his father's judgmental glare, which made him feel like a waste of space.

He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl and heads for the front door, not bothering to eat a proper breakfast. His mind is too preoccupied with yesterday's events and the heavy silence that hangs between him and Mari.

Before he leaves, he notices something: a small black ball curled up in the corner of the living room: his cat, Mewo. He hasn't played with Mewo in a long time. There's still time. Basil must be waking up yet.
Sunny bends down to pet Mewo, who stretches and purrs contentedly.

"Good morning, buddy," he whispers, running his fingers through the cat's soft fur. Miwo rolls onto his back, presenting his belly for more scratches. As Sunny pets him, he feels a momentary respite from his worries, the simple act of affection providing a brief escape from the weight of his concerns.

After a few minutes, Sunny stands up, his hand brushing against the violin case leaning against the wall. The instrument inside remains silent, a silent witness to his struggles. He steels himself, not wanting to think about it right now.

Stepping out into the fresh morning air, Sunny takes a deep breath, trying to clear his head. The sun is just beginning to peek over the rooftops, bathing the street in a warm golden glow. His neighbors, Kel and Hero, must be quite busy. The main reason Mari told him to go to Basil directly was because everyone knew Kel would be grounded for being late with his homework, and Hero would have to be watching him all day.

As he walks, Sunny's mind drifts to Aubrey. He knows she'll be waiting for him later at their usual meeting spot, her bright smile ready to greet him as if nothing has changed. He continues his walk, his thoughts consumed by his upcoming recital. The pressure builds inside him, a suffocating cloud that threatens to engulf him. As he walks along the sidewalk, he enjoys the breeze and the tranquility. In the distance, he can begin to see the green roof of Basil's house. He lives alone with his grandmother, and they have a beautiful garden, the most beautiful in all of Faraway he coud say. The love with which they care for it is evident.

Sunny approaches Basil's house, admiring the meticulously maintained garden that surrounds its backyard. The vibrant colors of the flowers and the lush greenery create a tranquil oasis amidst the suburban landscape. As he draws closer, he notices Basil kneeling beside a bed of roses, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tends to the delicate blossoms. Sunny clears his throat gently, not wanting to startle his friend.

Basil glances up, a smile spreading across his face as he recognizes Sunny.

"Oh, hey Sunny! I'm so glad you're here." He rises to his feet, brushing the dirt from his knees. "I thought you were practicing with Mari this morning like you always do."

Sunny shakes his head, a slight, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. "Not today. Mari's busy preparing for the recital, so she sent me here instead." While his mind tries to believe his own lie, his eyes drift to the garden, admiring the careful arrangement of flowers. "Your grandmother must be really proud of how well you take care of everything."

Basil's face softens with pride, but sadness flickers across his features. "She used to help me with the roses when I was younger, but now she is too fragile for this type of physical work." He gestures for Sunny to follow him into the house. "Come on inside. I want to show you something."

Sunny follows Basil into the house, inhaling the aroma of fresh-baked goods. The interior is warm and inviting, with sunlight streaming through the windows. Basil leads him to the living room where his grandma is serving oatmeal cookies. As Sunny and Basil sit down at the kitchen table, the warmth of the cookies of Basil's grandmother's baking filling the air. Basil's grandmother smiles warmly at Sunny, her eyes twinkling with affection as she places a plate of cookies in front of each of them.

"Sunny, it's so lovely to see you again," she says, her voice soft and melodic. "I hope you'll enjoy the cookies." Basil nods enthusiastically, taking a big bite of his cookie. "Grandma makes the best oatmeal cookies in the whole world!" He swallows quickly, then looks at Sunny with an eager expression. "I've got something special to show you, but I need to get it first. Don't go anywhere!"

Before Sunny can respond, Basil darts out of the room, leaving Sunny alone with his grandmother. She studies him for a moment, her eyes seeming to hold a depth of understanding that surprises him. "Basil's always been quite the collector, you know. He takes great pride in his treasures." She pauses, then adds with a gentle smile, "Just like you do with your violin."

The mere mention of that thing makes the pain rush through his fingers again. Don't take it the wrong way, he loves the gift his friends worked so hard to buy him, saving up and working summer jobs, but with everything that's been going on in his life, he's started to hate that gift with all his soul. Part of him just wants to get rid of it because he considers it the piece that made his life change, but another part of him loves it because it's the reminder that his friends are truly his friends.

Basil returns a short while later, clutching a large photo album to his chest. He sets it down on the table with almost reverent care, then opens it to reveal a collection of photographs, each one carefully protected by clear plastic sleeves. Basil's fingers tremble slightly as he turns the pages, revealing snapshots of his friends's adventures together: picnics by the pond, goofy poses in the park, silly faces on the swings.

"This is... this is all of us," Basil says softly, his voice thick with emotion. "Every good memory we've ever had. I wanted to make sure I never forgot, you know? That no matter what happened, I'd always have this... Oh right haha, what I wanted to show you is this"

Basil opened the last page of the album revealing a few stray photographs, pictures of interesting things that didn't technically belong in the album full of his photos of their friends. Sunny leaned in, his eyes widening at the sight of the last few photographs. The first was a close-up shot of a small, intricately carved wooden figurine depicting a strange, almost alien creature. Its spindly limbs and bulbous head were adorned with swirling patterns that seemed to shimmer even in the album's flat pages. Next to it was a picture of a peculiar stone, its surface covered in runes that looked ancient and almost alive.

"What are these?" Sunny asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was an aura of mystery surrounding these objects, unlike anything else in the album.

Basil smile "I... I don't really know. These are some things I found while looking for plants in the forest. I didn't want to touch them, so I took pictures instead. Don't you think it's fascinating? It might be a historical treasure, ancient figures, but my grandma just thinks they're vandalized stones. She says everything looks too recently done to be ancient."

Sunny's fingers unconsciously traced the outline of the alien figurine, his eyes fixed intently on its complex patterns. The runes on the stone seemed to shift and swirl, even in their static form. He felt a pull, as if the objects were calling to him.

Basil noticed Sunny's fascination and leaned in, his breath warm against Sunny's ear.

"You know, Sunny, I always thought you'd make a great archaeologist. The way you look at things, you always seem to be meticulously analyzing them... but we all know that's just your bored as always face, haha."

Sunny's eyes shift to Basil's album, completely ignoring him.

"Earth to Sunny... See, you always do that."

Sunny gets slightly scared and comes back to reality.

"I don't know, Basil," Sunny says quietly, his fingers tracing the outline of the strange figurine. "These things... they feel wrong somehow." Basil's smile falters for a moment, his nervousness showing through his usual confident facade.

"They feel wrong? What do you mean by that? To me they look great to me."

Basil chuckles nervously, his hand unconsciously reaching for the album on the nearby shelf. "That's just your imagination running wild, Sunny. You always overthink things." He flips through the album, showing Sunny a picture of himself and Mari.

Sunny's eyes lingered on the photograph of Mari, a funny expression on her face. He could almost hear her melodic laughter echoing in the room, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence that had engulfed their home.

A thought crossed his mind and he had the bad luck to say it out loud.

"What would it feel like to escape?"

Basil's eyes dart to Sunny's as he flips through the album, his fingers quivering slightly. "Escape? You mean like running away?" He lets out a nervous chuckle, but it sounds hollow. "I don't know, Sunny. It's not something I've ever thought about." He pauses, his thumb absently tracing the edge of a photograph.

"But I guess it would feel... free. Like you could just go anywhere, do anything." He speaks more quietly, his words almost a whisper. "Though I don't think it would be as great as it seems. Where would you even go? For me life is perfect just the way it is." His face shows concern as he looks at Sunny. "Are you okay, Sunny?"

Basil's concern was palpable as he gazed at Sunny, his brow furrowed with worry. The question hung in the air, a heavy silence descending upon them as Sunny wrestled with his tumultuous thoughts. Basil's earlier joviality had evaporated, replaced by an unmistakable tension that seemed to emanate from Sunny himself.

"Ar... are you okay, Sunny?" Basil repeated softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in closer, his eyes searching Sunny's face for any hint of reassurance. "You seem... You've been more lost in your thoughts lately, you're worrying me and... I don't know what to do... I don't want things to go wrong... I..."

Sunny blinked rapidly, as if trying to shake off the heavy fog that had settled over his mind. Basil's words penetrated the haze, and he felt a twinge of guilt for worrying his friend. He managed a small, strained smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I... I'm fine, Basil," Sunny replied, his voice lacking its usual conviction. "Just a lot on my mind, you know? With the recital coming up and everything..." He trailed off, unable to voice the true depth of his anxieties.

Basil nodded understandingly, but the concern in his eyes only intensified. "I know the recital is a big deal, but Sunny, you don't have to carry everything on your own."

He gently placed a hand on Sunny's shoulder, his touch warm and comforting. "We're here for you, remember? All of us, including Mari."

Sunny's eyes flickered to the ground, a faint blush rising to his face. "I know," he murmured, the words almost inaudible. "But sometimes I just feel like I'm not good enough, you know? Like I'm holding everyone back." He took a shaky breath, his fingers absently twisting the fabric of his shirt.

Basil returned the smile, relief washing over his features. "Okay. But if you ever need to talk or just... want someone to be with you, I'm here. Always." His eyes shone with sincerity, a silent promise of unwavering support.

Sunny felt a lump form in his throat, overwhelmed by the genuine care in Basil's words. He swallowed hard, blinking back the sudden moisture in his eyes. "I know, Basil."

...

Time passed and the oatmeal cookies ran out.

Basil's grandma stood up slowly, her movements stiff with age. "Basil, why don't you show Sunny the garden? I'll start on some more cookies for you boys." Her wrinkled hand patted Sunny's head affectionately as she passed by, leaving the two boys alone in the living room.

Basil's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Oh, that's a great idea! Come on, Sunny, I'll show you my new rose bushes!" He grabbed Sunny's hand and pulled him towards the back door, his excitement evident in the way he bounced on his heels.

Sunny followed Basil out into the garden, the warm sunlight caressing his skin as he stepped onto the dirt path. The air was heavy with the scent of blooming flowers, a heady perfume that filled his lungs and soothed his frayed nerves. Basil led him deeper into the garden, pointing out various plants and sharing tidbits of knowledge he'd gleaned from his grandmother.

"Look at these, Sunny!" Basil exclaimed, gesturing to a patch of vibrant red roses. "I planted them myself, and they're doing so well! Grandma says I have a green thumb, can you believe it?"

Sunny smiled, genuinely pleased for his friend. "That's amazing, Basil."

"By the way, do you want to help me plant these tulips here, pretty please?"

Basil's face lit up with hope, his fingers still interlaced with Sunny's as he gently tugged the younger boy closer to the flower bed. The rich, earthy scent of the soil mingled with the sweet aroma of the blooming roses nearby. Sunny's gaze fell to the ground, then back to Basil's expectant face.

The warmth of Basil's hand in his own seemed to anchor Sunny to the present moment, keeping the dark thoughts at bay for now.

"I...I guess I could help for a little while," Sunny replied hesitantly, trying to match Basil's enthusiasm even as uncertainty coiled in his stomach. Basil's face split into a wide grin, his earlier worries seemingly forgotten in the face of Sunny's agreement.

"Really? Oh, thank you, Sunny!" Basil gushed, giving Sunny's hand a grateful squeeze before releasing it and kneeling down by the flower bed.

The work was harder than expected, what kind of boy was Basil to be able to do all this on his own? The gardening gloves sting his blistered hands as he feels the damp soil seeping into his skin. The gardening overalls he gave him are a little embarrassing, but they're what he has to wear if he doesn't want his mother to scold him for dirtying his clothes.

Basil's fingers nimbly maneuvered the tulip bulbs into the prepared soil as he hummed a cheery tune, seemingly unaware of Sunny's discomfort. The older boy's gentle smile and quick movements made it clear this was second nature to him. "You're doing great, Sunny! Just like that, see how the bulbs line up?"

Sunny's hands shook slightly as he followed Basil's instructions, struggling to replicate the other boy's effortless technique. The earth felt damp and clammy against his palms, and he could feel his fingers starting to cramp from the unaccustomed work. Still, he pressed on, determined not to let Basil down.

"Could you bring me those over there? Be careful, they're a bit delicate"

Basil pointed to a small tray of potted seedlings nearby. "I'm going to need your help with these ones. They're my pride and joy, you know," he said with a wink, patting the earth around the last tulip bulb with a gentle touch.

Sunny hesitated for a moment, glancing at the delicate plants with a hint of trepidation. But seeing the eager look on Basil's face, he knew he couldn't refuse. "Okay," he murmured, rising to his feet and making his way over to the tray. As he reached for the pots, his hand brushed against something soft and fuzzy.

Everything seemed to be going well, but fate hate him. A hellish, hideous, and rotten creature descended from the small nascent plant. One of the most horrible things that could have existed in the world, and the reason he doesn't like to help Basil with his garden very often. A spider. A hairy, black spider.

Sunny's heart nearly stopped in his chest as he saw the spider. His breath caught in his throat, and his hands instinctively recoiled, knocking over the tray of precious seedlings. The small pots crashed to the ground, shattering and scattering soil and tender plants everywhere. Basil's gasp of dismay cut through the air like a knife, his face contorting in shock and disappointment. "Sunny, what happened? My plants..."

"I-I'm so sorry," Sunny stammered, his face pale as he stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away from the spider. It scurried away into the shadows, but the damage was done.

Dark thoughts returned to his mind. He was useless, just like his father and sister had said. Not only had he destroyed Basil's plants, he'd been silently complaining about his friend's hobby all this time, only to have it ruined by a tiny spider.

As the afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting intricate patterns on the ground, Sunny's heart continued to race. He could feel the oppressive weight of Basil's disappointment bearing down on him, crushing his already fragile self-esteem. His hands trembled slightly as he tried to help Basil clean up the mess, but every time he reached for a piece of pottery or a damaged plant, Basil simply refused, saying that he could do it himself.

Basil's intention with this was not bad, he knew that his friend was not going through a good time, he just didn't want to pressure him further.

Basil kneels to gather the pieces, his hands shaking slightly as he carefully picks up each shard. His long blond hair falls forward, obscuring his face, but Sunny can still see the tight set of his jaw and the slight tremor in his fingers. "I... I'm so sorry, Basil. I didn't mean to..." Sunny's words falter, his gaze darting between his friend and the ruined plants.

Basil's hands still for a moment, and he takes a deep breath before slowly lifting his head to meet Sunny's gaze. His blue eyes are filled with a mixture of disappointment and understanding, and his voice is quiet when he speaks. "It's alright, Sunny. I know you didn't mean to." He glances back at the scattered seedlings, his brow furrowing slightly. "It's just... they were my favorites. I spent so much time nurturing them..."

Sunny's heart clenches at the sight of Basil's sorrow, a pang of guilt surges through him. He kneels beside his friend, his hands hovering uncertainly over the debris. "I can help fix this, Basil. I can replant them or buy new ones. Anything you need." His words are laced with desperation, a desperate attempt to make amends.

Basil shakes his head, his blond hair swaying with the movement. "No, Sunny. You don't need to do that." He gently places a hand on Sunny's arm, his touch soft but firm. "This isn't about replacing the plants. It's about you." Basil's blue eyes search Sunny's face, his gaze intense and penetrating.

The intention of those words was the best possible, but in the state Sunny was in, he thought of the worst. Its about him. The problem its always about him.

Basil's words echo in Sunny's mind, each syllable a painful reminder of his perceived inadequacy. His eyes, already red-rimmed from the nightmares and tears, blur with fresh moisture as a shuddering breath escapes his lips. The weight of Basil's hand on his arm feels like an anchor.

...

Time passes in silence until Basil finishes and his grandmother calls them both to eat more oatmeal cookies. Sunny didn't say anything else until he said goodbye after lunch. The clock strikes four as Sunny trudges home, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the cobblestone path. He absently kicks at a loose stone, his mind consumed by Basil's words and the guilt that now weighs heavily on his chest.

It's going to be one of those days.

Chapter Text

117 AD

Germania Superior

The Kocher River garrison was resting inside its small fortification on the limes. Lucius, the guard on duty, was assigned that night.

He was a young man of about 20 years old, with short dark hair and clear blue eyes. His armor was well-maintained, the silver medallion of Mithras shining brightly on his chest.

Lucius was known for his diligence and quick thinking. He stood at the watchtower, gazing out into the darkening landscape beyond the limes.

The wind carried the sounds of the river rushing past, along with something else, a rustling in the underbrush that seemed too deliberate to be natural. Lucius narrowed his eyes, straining to see through the growing darkness.

His mind is still somewhat troubled by the stories of Galerius, his comrade.

These stories he tells were obtained by the germanic traders crossing the border. Horrible stories that come naturally from those barbaric men who live outside the empire, only they would think of such savagery.

Lucius shuddered slightly, his grip tightening on the spear he held. The germanic tribes were notorious for their ferocity, and their tales of the dark deeds of the barbarian king had unsettled even the hardened veterans among the garrison.

Lucius had heard whispers of human sacrifices, of dark rituals held under the light of the full moon deep in the heart of the Black Forest to satisfy the dark beasts.

He shook his head, trying to dispel such grim thoughts from his mind. Surely, they were nothing more than superstitious nonsense, stories told by the tribes to frighten their children and keep them in line.

...

As the night wore on, Lucius found his thoughts drifting to his home back in Rome, to his family and the life he had left behind.

He fought off sleep while eating a hard cracker and some cheese he'd managed to steal from his Praefectus. The bastard wouldn't even notice, nor would he need to.

Lucius finished his meager meal, brushing the crumbs from his tunic.

He gazed out at the darkening landscape, the fading light casting long shadows across the earth. The air was heavy with the scent of the forest, a musky, earthy aroma that spoke of ancient secrets and hidden dangers.

Lucius let out a long, slow breath, his hand unconsciously drifting to the amulet at his throat. It was a small token, a gift from his mother before he had left for the legions, but it held a great deal of meaning for him. In times of uncertainty, like now, he found comfort in its familiar weight against his skin.

...

Suddenly a sound catches his attention, leaves moving and branches being destroyed by the weight of something.

Lucius quickly crouched down behind the low stone wall, pressing himself against the masonry. His heart pounded in his chest as he peered into the darkness, straining to make out any movement.

The sounds continued, heavy footsteps and the occasional grunt of effort, accompanied by the distinct crack of splintering wood. Whatever was out there, it was big. Too big to be a man, Lucius thought with growing dread.

The full moon finally peeked through the clouds, casting a pale light over the treeline. In that brief moment, Lucius saw a massive shape moving between the trees, something with long, powerful limbs and a hunched posture. A primal fear gripped him, freezing him in place.

Time passed, a fear he had never felt before ran through his skin, he was paralyzed with fear, he couldn't even speak, he felt like a lump was forming in his throat.

Minutes ticked by, each one stretching out into an eternity of fear and uncertainty.

...

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Lucius slowly rose to his feet, his muscles aching from being held so still for so long. He peered into the darkness, searching for any sign of the creature. The moon had vanished behind the clouds once more, plunging the forest into inky blackness.

Lucius licked his dry lips, trying to summon the courage to move.

As he regained his composure, he heard a woman crying. Possibly the beast had seen her.

Lucius came down and crept closer to the sound, his heart pounding in his chest. As he drew nearer, he saw a shape huddled against a tree. ¿The woman?, her body wracked with sobs. Her long, dark hair obscured her face, but Lucius could see that she wore a simple black dress, now torn and stained with dirt and blood.

"Please," Lucius whispered, approaching her slowly. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

The woman looked up at him, her eyes wide with an emotion he couldn't name, it wasn't... It... She was not in danger... She's not a woman...

What he saw was a large beast, similar to a lion, but more robust and more savage-looking. Its body was covered in short, earthy fur, with thick legs like a bull's and claws that left deep marks in the damp earth. Its head was broad and powerful, and from its jaw hung long fangs like a boar's, but even more fearsome. It was as if Jupiter had mixed the lion with a tiger and given it the fangs of a beast from the underworld. It walked with the dignity of a regal beast, but with the menace of a creature born to kill. And above all, it had the misfortune of roaring like a whimper.

He has to run...

...

Lucius doesn't know how, but he escaped, returned to his fortress, only to find it in flames.

There were more of those things, and they lurked within the palisades, devouring his comrades and friends. It had all been a trap to lurk him out of his post.

One of those things strolled past the burning Praetor's hut. It had the Praefectus's head, torn off by its roots, in its snout. It held it as if mocking them.

...

What happened next he didn't quite remember, only that he began to climb and climb a large tree, his nails bleeding from the effort.

He stayed there, hanging, while those beasts swarmed below, but they didn't try to climb, they just sat there... and began to roar and whimper...

...

They were mocking him...

They knew he'd soon be unable to hold on any longer...

Those things aren't animals...

"Remember, no survivors"

Chapter Text

Aubrey sits at her desk, staring blankly at the chalkboard as the teacher drones on about old history. Her mind wanders, thoughts drifting to Sunny.

She worries about him, knowing how anxious he gets about everything lately. A small smile plays on her lips as she remembers the look on his face when she complimented his playing the other day in the park. He always gets so flustered when she praises him, it's adorable.

The sound of Kel snickering loudly behind her snaps Aubrey out of her reverie. She turns and glares at him, annoyed by the interruption to her daydreams of Sunny.

"What's so funny, Kel?" she asks, her tone sharp.

Kel, who was in the middle of telling some joke to Basil, freezes when Aubrey speaks. He quickly tries to compose himself, a mischievous grin still playing on his face.

"Oh nothing, just sharing some stories about your last softball game. Remember when you fell in love with the ground and threw yourself at it to kiss it? Hahaha"

Aubrey's face flushes with anger, her hands clenching into fists on her desk.

"That was weeks ago, Kel! And I only fell because you kept distracting me with your stupid face!"

She leans over, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You're a jerk sometimes, you know that?"

The teacher raises her voice "Aubrey! Kel! This is a classroom, not a circus tent. Keep it down or I'll send you both to detention."

Aubrey slumps back into her seat, crossing her arms and pouting. Kel just grins wider, clearly pleased with himself for getting under her skin.

Basil, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, moves closer to Aubrey. "Hey, don't let him get to you. You know Kel's just jealous because sports is his thing and you're so good at softball."

He pats her back encouragingly, though his eyes dart nervously between Aubrey and Kel, as if expecting more fireworks.

"¡Suzuki! Are you paying attention in class?" The teacher said to the daydreaming boy.

Sunny jolts in his seat, startled out of his daydreams by the teacher's stern voice. His face flushes as he realizes everyone's attention is on him. He quickly sits up straighter, trying to look more engaged.

"I...I was..." Sunny tried to form a sentence without success.

The teacher makes a strange face, a mixture of annoyance and compassion. She knows how demanding the boy's parents are, it's not for nothing that she was Mari's teacher a few years ago. However, she can't let her students fall asleep in class.

"Sunny, can you remind us what limes were in the Roman Empire?"

The classroom falls silent, all eyes turning to Sunny as he struggles to form a coherent response. Sweat beads on his forehead as he desperately tries to recall anything about the class.

He opens his mouth, ready to confess his ignorance, when a small hand touches his back, it's Basil, "A border," the blond whispered to him in a kind tone.

Sunny felt a wave of relief wash over him. He latched onto the answer like a lifeline, repeating it aloud with a shaky voice. "A border. The Roman Empire used limes as borders to protect their territories."

The teacher regarded him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Sunny braced himself for the inevitable reprimand, his heart pounding in his chest. But then, to his surprise, she simply nodded.

"Correct, Sunny. It's good that you were paying attention but try to not fall sleep."

That was a good save, Aubrey thought, though she worried about Sunny, normally he's pretty good in classes like this, but lately he's been falling asleep or just staring off into space.

And the day continue...

...

After school, Sunny finds himself walking home alone, all his friends had things to do, clubs, sports practice or things like that, even Mari decided to stay in the school auditorium practicing piano alone with some of her friends.

His thoughts consumed by the events of the day. The late afternoon sun paints everything in warm hues, but Sunny's mood remains dark.

As he passes the park, he spots Aubrey swinging lazily on a swing, her long black hair swaying in the breeze.

"Hey Sunny!" Aubrey calls out, waving enthusiastically. "Want to come sit with me?" Her smile is bright and genuine.

He approaches the swings, his steps slow and measured.

"Didn't you have softball practice at school?"

Sunny hesitated, his hand hovering over the empty swing beside Aubrey. The warmth of Aubrey's smile and the inviting sway of the swing drew him in.

"I guess I skipped it today," Aubrey admitted with a shrug, kicking her feet out to send the swing soaring higher.

Sunny sank onto the swing, his grip tightening on the chains as he began to pump his legs. The motion felt almost therapeutic, the rush of wind in his face chasing away the cobwebs of the day.

...

"You didn't... you didn't come here yesterday like we promised." Say the girl with a sad grimace beginning to appear.

Her feet dragging through the dirt to slow the swing's momentum.

"I'm sorry, Aubrey. I... I just wasn't feeling well yesterday" Sunny mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to admit the truth, that he had spent the entire day hiding in his room, drowning in his own misery because he destroyed Basil's plants.

Aubrey's brow furrowed, concern etched into her features. "Are you okay now? You haven't seemed like yourself lately." She reached out, her small hand coming to rest on Sunny's knee.

Aubrey's touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if she wasn't sure whether Sunny would welcome the contact. He glanced down at her hand, a flicker of longing and shame warring in his eyes.

He desperately wanted to lean into her touch, to bask in the warmth and comfort she offered, but the weight of his shame held him back.

"I'm fine," Sunny insisted, his voice coming out sharper than he intended. Aubrey's hand withdrew, and he immediately regretted his tone. "I just... I have a lot on my mind with the recital coming up."

Aubrey nodded, a flicker of understanding passing over her features. "I get it."

The silence lasted a good few seconds until she spoke again, this time more sadly.

"My parents got into another fight. This time it was really bad. I tried to lock myself in my room, but they called me into their argument and made me choose between them again."

Aubrey's words hung heavy in the air, a palpable reminder of the turmoil that plagued her home life.

Sunny's heart ached for his friend, the weight of her struggles pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket. He knew all too well the pain of feeling trapped between others.

"I'm so sorry, Aubrey," Sunny murmured, his voice tinged with genuine sympathy. "I wish there was something I could do or say to make it better."

Aubrey shrugged, a bitter smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "There's nothing anyone can do, really." That was a sad reality.

...

The two continued to swing for a while longer until they decided it was time to go home.

Sunny and Aubrey slowly made their way out of the park, the weight of their shared burdens palpable between them.

As they walked, Sunny's mind wandered back to his own troubles, the looming recital, the pressure from his family, the ever-present ache of self-doubt. He glanced over at Aubrey, noticing the tightness in her jaw and the stiffness in her shoulders, clear signs of emotional turmoil.

"I wish there was something I could do to help you with your parents," Sunny said softly, his voice tinged with helplessness. "I hate seeing you hurting like this."
Aubrey let out a long, shuddering breath. "I know you do."

And with a sweet hug, the two of them part ways.

Chapter Text

As the weekend approached, Sunny found herself looking forward to spending time with Kel. With Mari and Hero deep in conversation and flirting, Sunny took the opportunity to escape to simpler pleasures with his best friend. Sunny and Kel left their houses and went to play together at the park.

Sunny isn't as athletic as his energetic friend, so he tires much more quickly while they play. He doesn't know why the two of them became best friends when they're so different. Although he has to admit they share some things in common, like their love of video games, being fans of Captain Spaceboy, and being in the shadows of their older siblings, the bossy parents, they love for pets... now that he thinks about it, they have more in common than he thought.

While they were resting after a wild game of catch, which Kel won by a landslide, Kel had the stupidest and most exciting idea a kid his age could have come up with.

"Hey, Sunny! I've got a great idea for today, how about we explore that old abandoned house on Maple Street?"

Sunny hesitated, a flicker of unease passing through him. He'd always found that particular house unsettling, with its crumbling facade and overgrown yard. But Kel's enthusiasm was infectious and he didn't want to go back home yet, so Sunny found himself nodding. "Ok... okay... let's do it."

Kell grin broadly and they set off, the cool morning air invigorating as they walked the route. As they passed by Aubrey's house, Kel, oblivious that this was his friend's house, kept up a steady stream of chatter about the house three blocks away and the treasures they might find inside. Sunny still remembers the special moment he had with her and blushes a little.

As they approached the house, Sunny's nervousness grew. The place seemed to loom ominously, its windows like empty eyes staring down at them. Kel, however, was undetered. He bounded up the creaking porch steps, testing the door handle. "Come on, Sunny! It's not locked!"

Sunny slowly climbed the steps, his heart pounding. As he entered the musty interior, he was overwhelmed by the oppressive silence. Kel, however, was already racing from room to room, calling out his discoveries. "Look at this old room!"

Sunny tried to focus on Kel's excitement, but his mind kept drifting to the dark corners of the house. As he stood in what had once been a bedroom, he noticed an old mirror leaning against the wall. His reflection was distorted, warped and twisted. At this point, he doesn't even know why the hell he agreed to this expedition. He knew full well that inside this old house would be the things that scared him most: spiders, darkness, unsafe high points from which he could fall. Everything was horrifying in his eyes.

"Hey, Sunny! Check this out!" Kel's voice echoed from another room, breaking the oppressive silence. Sunny jumped, startled by the sudden noise. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Kel sounded so excited, so carefree. Sunny wished he could be more like his friend, to just throw caution to the wind and embrace the adventure. With hesitant steps, Sunny made his way to the room Kel had called out from.

He found Kel standing by an old wardrobe, its doors slightly ajar. Kel had a mischievous grin on his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I bet there's all sorts of cool stuff in here! Wanna see what's inside?"

Sunny hesitated, his gaze drawn to the dark space within the wardrobe. His mind raced with the possibilities of what might be lurking in the shadows, spiders, rotting clothes, their death. He shuddered, imagining the feel of cobwebs brushing against his skin as he reached inside.

Sunny swallowed hard, his eyes darting between the inviting depths of the wardrobe and Kel's eager face. He knew he should probably decline, make up some excuse about needing to help Aubrey with something or other. But deep down, a tiny part of him, the part that Kel had always brought out, wanted to be brave, to face his fears and embrace the adventure that his friend offered. Even if it terrified him.

"I... I guess so," Sunny said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kel's grin widened as he heard Sunny's response. "Awesome!" He stepped closer to the wardrobe, his hand reaching for the door handle. "I'll go first, okay? I promise I'll check for spiders before i come out."

Sunny's heart thudded loudly in his chest as Kel slowly opened the wardrobe doors. The interior was dark and deep, with only a faint dusty light filtering through the windows covered by boards. As Kel reached inside, Sunny held his breath, watching his friend's hand disappear into the shadows. After a moment, the silence became unbearable.

"K... Kel?"

A slight creaking sound of wood in the closet alerts him.

...

Sunny slowly approached the old closet door... placed his hand on the handle... took a deep breath... and pulled slowly...

"Booooooo!"

Sunny fell on his butt.

Kel came out dressed in an old white sheet, yellowed by age and eaten by moths. His costume didn't scare him; rather, it disgusted him that he'd put that thing on. What scared him was the stupid surprise, but that was Kel for you, and even though he was just getting over the shock, he had to admit that it was always fun to be with Kel.

Kel's face emerged from the sheet, now covered in a thick layer of dust. "Hey, there are some old clothes in here! And look at this an old suitcase!"


The clasp on said briefcase suddenly broke as soon as he pull it out, spilling all its contents to the floor, mostly papers illegible from age, which is quite depressing for a treasure hidden in an abandoned house.

Kel's face showed disappointment as he sifted through the papers. "Aw, these are just old pages and letters," he said, clearly deflated.

Sunny hesitantly stepped closer, his eyes darting between the scattered papers and the dark interior of the wardrobe. The musty smell of old clothes and forgotten things wafted out. Out of nowhere he felt his heart start to beat rapidly, he was scared and didn't know why. His chest tightened, and he could feel his heart racing.

Kel, oblivious to Sunny's distress, rummaged through the suitcase, "Wow, this old photo looks like it's from the jurassic era haha!"

He held up a faded photo of two girls posing in front of the very same house, their faces smiling and carefree. However, it was when he tried to give the photo to Sunny that he realized his friend was having a panic attack.

Kel's eyes widened with concern as he noticed Sunny's rapid breathing and the sheen of sweat on his brow. "Hey, Sunny? You okay, man?" He set the photo aside and stepped out of the wardrobe, placing a tentative hand on Sunny's shoulder. "You look kinda... freaked out. Did I scare you that much? Sorry"

Sunny's eyes darted between Kel and the open wardrobe, his chest heaving with each shallow breath. The musty scent and dark interior seemed to press in on him, and he could feel his vision starting to tunnel. "I... I can't... I can't breathe..." he managed to gasp out, stumbling backwards.

Kel's face contorted with worry as he watched Sunny's distress. "Whoa, whoa, slow down, dude. Just breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth." He gently guided Sunny away from the wardrobe, his own panic rising at seeing his friend in such a state. "Hey, you're not alone. I'm right here, Sunny. Just focus on me, okay?"

Sunny's hands shook as he tried to follow Kel's instructions, his breathing gradually evening out. The dark memories triggered by the wardrobe, the feeling of being trapped, the musty smell, the pressure, slowly receded as Kel's presence brought him back to the present.

"Let's get out" said Kel.

Sunny followed Kel out of the abandoned house, his legs feeling weak as if they might give out at any moment. The fresh air hit him, and he took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. Kel's hand remained on his shoulder, providing a comforting presence as they stood in the sunlight. "Dude, you really scared me there for a sec," Kel said, his cheerful facade cracking to reveal genuine concern.

"I'm sorry," Sunny mumbled, unable to meet Kel's eyes. The panic attack left him feeling drained and vulnerable. "I don't know what came over me. It was just so... dark in there." Kel squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Hey, no worries."

They both sat in silence for a long time on the porch of the old house. Kel was always there for his friend, even in the smallest things.

"I'm glad you're okay now, Sunny," Kel said softly after a while. He glanced at the overgrown yard, then back at Sunny. "You know, maybe we should head home now. I don't think there's much else to explore here."

Sunny nodded, still lost in thought. The adrenaline from the panic attack was starting to fade, leaving him feeling drained. "Yeah, you're right. I'm not really in the mood to keep going."
As they stood up to leave, Kel suddenly grinned. "Hey, you know what we should do? Let's go get some Orange Joe! I'm craving one of those sweet cans right about now."

Sunny forced a small smile, his anxiety still very much present but fading as they walked away from the old house. "That sounds good. I could use some sugar right now." Kel looped his arm through Sunny's, seemingly oblivious to his friend's lingering unease.

As they walked down the street, Kel chatted cheerfully about his plans for the upcoming summer vacation, clearly trying to distract Sunny from his earlier episode. "Maybe we could have a big sleepover at my place! Hero could make us all his special spaghetti carbonara." Said Kel with a cheap Italian accent, but Sunny listened halfheartedly, his mind still preoccupied with the darkness he'd encountered in the wardrobe.

He remembers, he remembers that nightmare he had a few days ago. He remembers the shadows of his family angry at him for ruining the recital.

"What the hell is wrong with you, useless! You just ruined everything!"

Shadow Mari's words echo in his mind, sharp and cutting. The memory of her hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him violently, fills him with dread. He remembers how his father's shadow grabbed his hand with such force that it seemed he wanted to tear it away, dragged him through the house and locked him in a closet to hide the shame away from the world.

Sunny's heart pounds in his chest as he recalls the events. He remembers the suffocating darkness of the closet, the musty smell of old clothes, and the way his father's stern words reverberated through the door. "You'll never amount to anything, you worthless piece of garbage!" The words, although, never said by his real dad, still sting, even now. Kel's voice cuts through his reverie, snapping him back to reality.

"You look like you've seen a ghost or something." Sunny blinks, his vision clearing.

 "Here, have a Orange joe"

Sunny stares blankly at the Orange Joe Kel is holding out to him. The sweet citrus scent fills his nostrils, but he barely registers it. Kel's cheerful smile feels like a slap in the face, a stark contrast to the darkness churning inside him.

"Uh, thanks." Sunny mumbles, accepting the drink with numb fingers. He takes a sip, the cold liquid sliding down his throat, but he tastes nothing. Kel chatters on about some silly video game he's been playing, but the words wash over Sunny like meaningless noise, although better than being alone.

Kel is a good friend, his best friend.

"Hey, by the way, I found this... this thing... I don't know what it is, but I found it in the suitcase while you were... uh... distracted by the closet."

Kel handed him a strange piece of metal, a broken pin? He couldn't say. It wasn't unusual, but something about it caught his eye. An engraving of a flower cut into the broken part of the pin.

Pretty weird...

Anyway, he gave it back to Kel, who pocketed it without giving it another thought.

Chapter Text

Hyōgo, Japan

A man, dressed in an elegant, tailored black suit, is riding up the elevator in the Koshien Building. He's focused on his phone, desperately trying to call someone.

The elevator doors ding open on the second floor. The man, who appears to be in his late 30s, steps out into the opulent hallway. His face is etched with concern as he stares at his phone, the screen displaying "Unanswered". He tries again to dial a number, muttering to himself.

"Dammit, come on... answer shit, answer..." The man's words trail off as he realizes he's not alone, the office workers look at him curiously, but he doesn't care. What he does care about is that his brother isn't answering his calls.

Mizu had never failed to respond, especially when using the phone for emergencies, but now...

He redials the number with trembling fingers, his heart pounding in his chest. The phone rings, once, twice, three times. On the fourth ring, it goes to voicemail. He ends the call and immediately dials again, his patience wearing thin.

"Fuck, answer me you bastard!" He snarls under his breath, his frustration boiling over. He's always been a man in control, never letting his emotions show, but the thought of something happening to his brother, the only person who truly understands him, makes him want to scream.

He paces the hallway, his shoes clicking against the marble floor. Finally, he arrives at an elegant office, where a slightly overweight man sits.

"It's almost about time. He's not answering my calls."

The man in the black suit strides into the office, his face a mask of worry. He speaks rapidly, his words laced with urgency.

"Something's wrong. I can feel it. Mizu always answers, always. But now," He runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up for the first time in years. "I'm worried. Really worried."

The man leans back in his chair, a knowing look on his face. "Calm down, Kenji. Mizu's probably just busy with work. You know how he gets when he's deep in a project."

"Not with this phone. We agreed that we would only use this phone for when it's time to escape, to return to... you know where."

Kenji sinks into a plush leather chair across from the man's desk, his elbows resting on his knees as he buries his face in his hands. "Fuck... Fuck!" He mutters, his voice muffled. "Something's definitely wrong. I can feel it in my gut."

The man sighs, reaching for a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid. He pours two glasses and offers one to Kenji. "Here, you look like you need this."

Kenji takes the glass with a nod of thanks, downing the contents in one long gulp. The liquor burns his throat, but it does little to ease the knot of fear in his stomach.

Kenji's mind races with worst-case scenarios as he sits in the leather chair, his fingers tightening around the empty glass. The man behind the desk watches him with a mix of concern and understanding, his own memories of a past life flickering across his features.

"You know," the man begins, his voice low and thoughtful, "when I was young, not much older than you are now, I had a friend. A very close friend." He takes a sip of his own drink, the amber liquid catching the light as it swirls in the glass. "We were inseparable, always getting into trouble together. But then, one day, he disappeared. Vanished without a trace."

Kenji's head snaps up, his eyes wide with a mixture of hope and fear. "What happened to him? Did you ever find out what happened?" His voice is barely above a whisper, his breath catching in his throat as he waits for the man's response.

The man leans back in his chair, a sad smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, I think you know the answer... Naga hunters... that's why I came here, to Japan." He takes another sip of his drink, his gaze distant as he loses himself in the memory.  "If he doesn't respond and what we feared is coming... I think we should consider the worst."

The man behind the desk leans forward, his eyes meeting Kenji's with a mix of understanding and grim resolve. He reaches into his desk drawer, pulling out a worn leather satchel. "I've been preparing for this day, ever since I first heard the rumors of him coming to the isles"

He unties the satchel, revealing an array of strange, ancient-looking artifacts. "These are of my own made. They will protect you if that demon uses his abilities."

Kenji's breath catches as he surveys the contents of the satchel, his fingers tracing the intricate carvings on a polished stone amulet.

He trails off, distracted by a sudden movement outside the window. Kenji follows his gaze, but sees nothing unusual in the dimming twilight. The man quickly gathers the artifacts, stuffing them back into the satchel. "We need to move."

They both leave the building and head to the city's central bank. They pass through security and go to their personal safe. Inside, there's only one thing: a small handkerchief covered in all sorts of charms to prevent prediction or detection. They unwrap the handkerchief and take out an old, intricate key.

It's time to say goodbye to Japan. "I've already contacted the old lady at home. She told me we'll have a discreet car parked under the large parking lot of the downtown offices. We should drive to Osaka, where a boat will be waiting to take us out."

Kenji nods, his mind racing with the gravity of the situation. He takes the key from the man, turning it over in his hands. The metal is cool against his skin, but he feels a warmth emanating from it, a promise of safety and a return.

As they exit the bank, Kenji can't shake the feeling of being watched. He scans the crowd, his heart pounding in his chest. The man beside him seems to sense his unease, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"We need to stick together," he murmurs, his eyes darting from face to face. "Stay close to me, and don't draw attention to yourself."

As they approach the parking lot, Kenji's steps falter. The man grips his arm, pulling him forward with urgency. "Don't look back," he warns, guiding Kenji towards a nondescript black sedan parked in the shadows.

Kenji's hand trembles as he reaches for the car door, the metal cold and foreign against his fingertips. He slides into the passenger seat, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Everything seems to be going well so far...

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A sharp bang sounds beside him, his ear ringing from the proximity of the shot. Fearfully, Kenji turns to his friend, he's been shot in the head.

His pursuer is in the back seat, he feels the gun now aimed at him...

Kenji's eyes widen in horror as he takes in the gruesome scene. His companion, slumped over with a bullet wound in his head, the metallic tang of blood filling the close confines of the car. Kenji's heart races as the gunman presses the muzzle of the pistol against his temple, the cold metal a stark contrast to his clammy skin.

"I'm sorry," the man says, his voice devoid of any real remorse. "But you shouldn't have tried to run. You seriously thought this stone carving bullshit was going to stop me, haha. It's the 21st century, and guns are as easy to come by as sticks. I didn't even need to use my skills, haha, I love humans"

Kenji's mind reels, desperately trying to process the situation. His eyes dart around the car, searching for any means of escape, but the gunman's grip on the pistol remains firm.

"I'm not going to kill you," the man continues, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, actually yes I'm going to do it, I only said it because it sounds cool in the movies, hahaha"

Kenji's body trembles, but he forces himself to meet the man's gaze. "Ok, haha, give it to me now." Said the hidden monster.

The man's words echoed in the confined space, a cruel mockery of the life he'd once known. Kenji thought of his brother Mizu, wondering if he'd ever see him again. The thought filled him with a desperate longing, a silent plea for help that he knew would go unanswered.

The gunman's finger tightened on the trigger, the click of the hammer seeming to reverberate in the tense silence. Kenji braced himself, his eyes squeezing shut as he awaited the inevitable blast of the shot. But it never came.

"Give me the key. I like it when things are given to me. I don't want to take it away from your bloody corpse. How disgusting."

 Kenji's hands shook as he fumbled for the key in his pocket. The metal felt cold against his fingertips as he withdrew it, the small object suddenly heavy with the weight of his impending doom. With a trembling hand, he held it out to the gunman.

The man snatched it away, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "Very good, pet. You're learning your place."

Kenji swallowed hard, bile rising in his throat. He wanted to lash out, to rail against the injustice of it all, but the cold press of the gun against his temple kept him still. The man was enjoying this, toying with him like a cat with a mouse.

"A single key will be useless to you, you know very well who has the others and you know very well that you are no match for them, you are chasing a useless dream"

The man's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, pet. You see, I have my ways of persuading people to part with what I need. And I'm quite... persuasive."

Kenji shuddered, the implications of the man's words sending a chill down his spine. He knew all too well the depths of depravity the man was capable of, the unspeakable things he'd done to those who crossed him.

"That phrase 'you are chasing a useless dream' hehe, the other guy said the same thing, you guys really are close brothers"

Kenji's heart raced as the man's words sank in, But before he could say or do anything else, the cold impact of a bullet crossed his head.

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The shadowy figure begins to whistle while cleaning his weapon. "This key makes two. It's time to go home. They say Faraway Town has grown quite a bit lately, haha."

Chapter Text

The breeze blew lightly and somewhat coldly through the kitchen window, it was clear that autumn was approaching, and with it the dreaded day of the recital.

Mari gave a sad sigh as she watched the chocolate chip cookies she had been making with Hero begin to puff up in the oven.

Hero gently placed a hand on Mari's shoulder, his brown eyes filled with concern as he gazed at her tired face. "Hey, are you alright? You seem really blue lately."

Mari let out a shaky breath, her long black hair swaying as she turned to look at Hero.

"I'm just... I'm trying to... I don't know, Hero. Ugh... The recital is coming up and Dad expects me to wow the audience, apparently people from the college my dad wants me to go to are going to attend. But I feel like I'm... cracking?... I don't even know what's up with me lately."

Hero pulled her into a comforting hug, his arms enveloping her frame.

"Mari, you don't have to be perfect all the time. Your dad, your piano, the recital... Those things don't define you, you are much more than that."

Mari buried her face in Hero's hug, her shoulders shaking slightly.

"I know, I know... But Hero, you don't understand. It's like, everything I do, it has to be perfect. For the family. For me. I am afraid of failing and losing what I have achieved."

Hero stroked her hair soothingly, his voice soft and reassuring.

"Mari, look at me." He gently tilted her chin up, meeting her eyes with a tender gaze. "You are an incredible person, with or without those achievemens you are still the most beautiful and smart person I've ever known. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise. I believe in you, no matter what."

Mari swallowed hard, tears glistening in her eyes as she gazed into Hero's warm brown ones. His unwavering support and love washed over her, easing the knot of anxiety in her chest.

"Hero... Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you."

She leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss filled with gratitude and affection.

As the kiss ended, Mari's face reddened slightly, but she felt a rush of comfort and strength.

"Thanks, handsome." Hero turned redder than a tomato.

Hero's presence seemed to anchor her in the moment, helping her remember who she truly was beyond the expectations placed upon her.

"Hero, I think I need to take another day off from this place. Can you keep an eye on Sunny for me tomorrow?"

Hero's brow furrowed slightly, concern etched on his face. "Of course, I can. Are you sure you're okay though?" He gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.

Mari attempted a small, grateful smile. "I'll be fine. I just need some time to myself, to figure things out."

Ding!

The sound of the oven alarm brought them back to reality.

Mari pulled away reluctantly from Hero's embrace, her hand trailing across his cheek as she stepped back.

"The cookies!" she exclaimed, hurrying over to the oven. Hero pulled out a tray of perfectly baked cookies, their chocolate topings glistening.

Mari sighed in relief as she surveyed the perfectly baked cookies. The sweet aroma filled the kitchen, a comforting scent that never failed to remind her of happier times. Hero set the tray down on the counter, gently waving away the steam.

"You're amazing at this, Hero," Mari said softly, glancing back at him with a tender smile. "You have a real talent for baking."

Hero shrugged modestly, a light blush coloring his cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks, Mari. But it's your recipe." 

Mari chuckled softly. "Yes, but it's your touch that makes them perfect."

Mari took a bite of the cookie, savoring the rich chocolate flavor that melted in her mouth. Hero watched her with his gaze filled with admiration and love.

However, something else was going on in Mari's mind, that word again, 'perfect.' Hero said she didn't have to be perfect, that her achievements of perfection didn't define her entirely, but she had her doubts.

Who was she if not the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect friend, the perfect figure her friends see as someone they can rely on.

Mari's brow furrowed as she looked out the window, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the quiet suburban street. The tranquility of the moment was disrupted by her own thoughts, each one more stressful than the last.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing mind. Hero gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

They smile at each other...

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening and closing echoed through the house. Mari tensed, her body instinctively reacting to the familiar sound. Hero's brow furrowed with concern as he noticed the change in her demeanor.

"It's probably just Sunny coming home from hanging out with Kel," Hero said softly, trying to reassure Mari. "He's probably starving after all that time out. I bet he'd love some of these cookies."

Mari forced a smile, nodding in agreement. "You're right, of course." Still worried about the way she treated him a few days ago.

She picked up a cookie and took a small bite, but the sweetness no longer brought her comfort. The anxiety that had been building all day suddenly intensified, as she could hear footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Sunny appeared at the kitchen entrance, without much to say as usual. Mari's heart quickened as she saw him, her mind immediately going to the upcoming recital and the expectations.

She stood up quickly, knocking over her chair in the process. Hero caught it before it could hit the floor, his eyes showing worry for Mari's sudden movement.

Mari's face flushed with embarrassment at her clumsiness, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to regain her composure, her perfect facade.

"Sunny, hi! Did you have fun with Kel?" She spoke in a slightly higher pitch than usual, her words laced with tension.

Sunny stood in the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on Mari. "Yeah, we just played some things and went exploring." His words were quiet, almost subdued, as he took in the scene before him. 

She probably still hates him, the boy thought, she doesn't show it because Hero is here.

"Oh... that... that's good... I think. Hey, I'm going to be in the school auditorium to practice again tomorrow, do you think you'll be able to practice on your own with Hero?"

Her words wavered. "You know how important this recital is for m... our reputation." The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken expectations.

Hero stepped forward, placing a hand on Mari's shoulder. "Hey, I'm sure Sunny will do great on his own. Right, Sunny?" His attempt at reassurance sounded forced, as if even he sensed the growing tension in the room.

"Hehe... well... who... Who wants freshly baked chocolate chip cookies? A young explorer like you must be hungry, I already saved some for Kel so don't worry about eating as many as you want hehe... (uncomfortable cough)"

Mari silently bustled around the kitchen, her back to Sunny and Hero. Her hands shook slightly as she arranged the cookies on a plate, the perfect quantity of the chocolate chips forming an unbroken pattern. She was acutely aware of their eyes on her, judging her performance.

Sunny's face fell as he watched his sister, feeling hollow and artificial. He knew how much pressure Mari was under, how much she needed to be perfect.

The recital looming felt like an invisible noose tightening around his neck, and he could feel the anxiety growing inside him. She's counting on him not being a nuisance.

He has... No... He need to be perfect, like her.

Chapter Text

Evening was approaching outside Sunny's window. He was doing his homework, alone. His sister wasn't there, and he regretted that this had become a habit of hers.

Sunny's pencil scratches across the paper in sharp, anxious motions. The numbers blur together as his mind wanders. He can still hear his father's voice from this morning while he was talking with his mom, the way his words cut into his mind.

"Mari could play very well at his age, I don't understand why he turned out... like that."

Sunny's grip tightens around the pencil. He knows what his father means. He isn't good enough. He never will be. He never has been.

Sunny continues his homework, his hand shaking slightly as he writes. The numbers swim on the page, refusing to arrange themselves into neat, perfect columns like his sister's always do.

Hero spent the day with him just as he had said, he wasn't a bad teacher, Sunny knew that, but he had to admit that the young man didn't have the slightest idea of what was going on, he just limited himself to giving neutral and burnt advice.

Hero had tried his best, but Sunny couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was still miles behind Mari. Every wrong note he played, every missed rhythm, felt like a fresh failure.

Even if Hero didn't say anything bad about his practices, his mind churned with memories of Mari's face making those grimaces of disgust, anger, and disappointment.

Sunny finishes his homework with a heavy sigh, stacking the pages neatly before pushing them aside.

He glances at the clock, almost time for dinner. He hesitates, wondering if Mari will be home. She had been distant lately, always preoccupied with practice. The thought of sitting at the table alone with his parents makes his stomach twist.

Sunny slowly descends the stairs, his footsteps hesitant and uncertain. As he reaches the bottom, he hears his mother's voice drifting from the kitchen.

"Mari still isn't home? Where is that girl?" His father's response is laced with disapproval. "She's probably practicing at school, she's always a great student." Sunny's heart sinks further. He hadn't seen Mari all day. She must hate him more than he thought, Sunny thought.

He enters the dining room, the clatter of silverware in the background. His parents sit at the table, their expressions... He doesn't want to look.

They look up as Sunny enters, and his father's gaze bores into him. He knows that silence, his father's characteristic silence, a silence that always comes before his passive-aggressive toned question...

Sunny moves to his seat, careful to avoid the look of his father. He folds his hands neatly in his lap, shoulders drawn up slightly as if bracing for impact. His father's silence stretches, and just as Sunny expects it, the question comes.

"Did you practice today?"

His tone is calm, almost casual, but there's a sharp edge underneath, like a blade wrapped in silk. What he really knows he's asking is, Did you do something productive today or were you wasting your time?

"Yes, dad," Sunny answers, steady but soft. He dares a glance up and sees his father already looking at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"And did you do well? Have you already fixed those errors that have Mari so worried?" The words hang between them like a trap door, ready to swing open at the slightest wrong answer.

Sunny hesitates...

He can feel his father's gaze boring into him, waiting for any sign of doubt. "I... I'm getting better," Sunny says carefully, choosing his words.

His father's face remains impassive. "That's not a yes... I'm sure Mari's concerned about you, but you know she has her own life to focus on. You can't expect her to fix all for you. Don't become a burden"

Sunny's fingers curl into fists on his lap. He knows his father isn't finished.

But before anything, his mom elbows his dad sharply, showing an angry expression for saying that to Sunny. 

She's a good mother, but her job doesn't allow her to care much for her family, but it's in the small details like these that Sunny knows she still cares about him.

"Sunny, I hope you know that we care about you, and we're proud of you for trying your best," his mom says softly, trying to smooth over his father's harsh words. She quickly returns to her dinner.

The dinner continued in silence, one could even hear the flutter of a fly's wings, with the tension in the air.

Sunny feels a tightness in his chest as he continues eating, every bite heavy as if his stomach has turned to stone. His father remains silent, but his presence looms like a shadow. The words he said linger, pressing down on Sunny's shoulders.

"I'm not a burden," Sunny mutters under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. His fingers twitch against his fork.

His mother gives him a strained smile, her expression tense as she focuses on her food. She hates these dinners, Sunny knows. She wants peace, wants everything to be smooth and perfect.

The door sounds, it's Mari.

She glances around the room, her dark eyes flicking over Sunny for just a second before she turns to her parents.

"I'm home," she says, her voice calm and even, betraying none of the stress she carries inside.

"Mari, how was your day?" his mother asks, speaking like she's afraid of disturbing the fragile atmosphere.

Mari sighs as she reaches for a plate. "Long."

"Those are the signs of a productive day. I can tell you've managed to further perfect your part of the recital, right?" her father said, displaying a tone of pride he doesn't display when speaking to him.

Sunny's fingers tighten around his fork as he watches his father speak to Mari. The words hurt in his gut, but he forces himself to take another bite, even as it feels like sawdust in his mouth.

Mari glances at Sunny as she plates her food, and something flickers across her face, guilt, maybe? Annoyance? It's gone too quickly for Sunny to tell. "I think I have it down now," she says, her voice light but measured.

Her father nods approvingly. "That's my girl. I know you won't disappoint us." His eyes flick to Sunny then, and the way he looks at him makes Sunny shrink in his seat.

Dinner continues as usual...

When it's over, Sunny clears the plates and cleans them. No one told him to, but he feels he should.

The kitchen is quiet except for the clatter of dishes and the soft hum of the refrigerator. The golden light from the overhead bulb feels heavy, pressing down on Sunny as he scrubs at a plate with more force than necessary.

His parents have retired to the living room, but Mari stays behind, leaning against the counter.

"Sunny," she says softly, almost hesitant. It's rare for her to sound like that, softer, almost unsure.

Sunny doesn't look up from the sink. He keeps scrubbing, even though the plate is clean now, the sponge squeaking against the porcelain. "Yeah?" His voice comes out quieter than he intends.

Mari exhales, rubbing her forehead. "I..." She starts, then stops. When she speaks again, her words are more measured but insecure. "Everyone... When you mess up... Sunny, you can't expect to be perfect if it isn't who you are."

Silence...

Sunny finished his chores and quietly retreated to his room.

She hates him for not being perfect, he thought. He is not perfect, he is not meant to be perfect, he is a flaw and always will be.

Meanwhile, Mari kicks herself in the brain for having said something so stupid, her intentions were good, she wanted to tell him the same thing that Hero had told her, but for some reason her brain went crazy and she blurted out the most horrendous phrase she could.

Tonight isn't a good night.

Mari stands alone in the kitchen, her fingers curling into fists as she replays the words she just spoke.

She hadn't meant them to come out like that. She hadn't meant for them to sound like an indictment instead of comfort. But the damage is done and she fears doing more harm. She's not as perfect as people thinks.

In their room, Sunny sits on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest. He stares at the far wall, his thoughts a jumble of self-loathing and confusion.

He doesn't understand why Mari said it. Doesn't understand why anyone expects anything of him. His fingers twitch with the memory of the bow scraping against his violin strings.

He hadn't been good enough then, and he isn't good enough now.

Chapter Text

1457

Târgoviște, Wallachia

"János! Where are you!?"

A boy, no more than 13 years old, hides under a table.

"János, come here right now and answer for what you did!" His father's voice sounded quite angry.

János clutches his knees to his chest, his heart pounding. He hears his father's heavy footsteps approaching. The table creaks under his weight as he peers through the dust motes drifting in the dim light.

"János!" his father shouts, voice cracking with rage. "Do you think you can just run away like a coward? Come out here and face the consequences of your actions!"

The boy's stomach twists as his father reveals his hiding spot.

After a few spankings, the father sits his son on his knee.

"Do you know why I punished you?"

János trembles, his small body shaking with fear.

"Because I broke the chair," he whispers.

His father exhales sharply through his nose. He looks tired, not just physically but deep in his bones.

"No," he says, speaking roughly. "I punished you because you ran away from the consequences, I punished you because you left the evidence of your mistake for everyone to see." His large hand comes to rest heavily on János's shoulder. "We are boyars, we should not appear cowardly to others, and if we are, at least we hide it well so that no one sees it. A boyard doesn't hide under tables."

János swallows hard. His father's words press down on him, not just now, but for as long as he can remember.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, staring at the floorboards.

His father gives him a smile and ruffles his hair before letting him go.

"Come on, go change, we have to look presentable for the prince's party."

The boy, still shaken from the punishment, trudges upstairs to change into his best clothes. As he does, he notices his reflection in the mirror. His face is streaked with tears, his eyes red and puffy. He looks away quickly, ashamed of his own weakness.

Downstairs, his father is waiting, already dressed in his finest clothes. The boy's mother stands nearby, smoothing his father's coat with practiced efficiency. When she sees her son, her face softens with concern.

"Are you ready, János?" she asks gently. He nods, unable to meet her eyes.

"Good," his father says gruffly, though there's an undercurrent of pride in his words.

Outside, the whole town was celebrating, the streets were filled with all kinds of people, the smells in the air were sweet, spices from the Ottoman Empire, fruits from the Balkans, wine from Wallachia, the best wine in the world.

As they pass by the church, the strong smell of incense reaches János's nose, and he can see the icon of the Lord of the Resurrection standing proudly atop the building.

The church bells toll, and the crowd parts to let the royal procession pass. János watches as his father straightens his posture, clearly awed by the approaching carriages.

A group of mounted soldiers ride past, their armor catching the last rays of sunlight, their horses adorned with red and gold cloth.

The prince's carriage comes into view, drawn by white horses with gold-plated harnesses. As it passes, János catches a glimpse of the prince himself, a young man with dark hair and piercing eyes, who seems to look directly at him for a moment before the carriage rolls on.

The boy's father places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "Remember this moment, János."

They arrive at the royal palace, richly decorated and prepared to celebrate Easter with the other boyars who had been invited.

The grand hall of the palace is aglow with dozens of candelabras, their flames casting golden light across the polished floors and gilded walls. The aroma of roasted lamb and fresh bread mingles with the perfumes worn by the noblewomen as they glide between tables laden with silver platters.

János watches his father exchange greetings with other boyars, his voice loud and confident as he boasts about their land's productivity.

A servant gestures for them to take their seats at one of the long tables. János's father sits beside the prince's advisor, a man with a salt-and-pepper beard who studies János with sharp eyes. The boy feels his stomach tighten under that gaze.

He never liked so many formalities, he just came to eat, decided that no one would notice if he went off to explore a little until the food arrived.

 János slips away from his seat unnoticed, melting into the crowd of servants carrying platters of roasted lamb and trays of golden pastries. He moves toward a side corridor, the tapestries lining the walls depicting saints and kings watching his passage in silent judgment.

A small door catches his eye, an unremarkable oak panel, but something about it draws him. He listens for footsteps before easing it open, revealing a narrow staircase leading down into darkness.

The stairwell is cold, damp stone beneath his feet, the air heavy with must and something older, deeper. A single torch flickers at the bottom, its light stretching thin fingers into the darkness above.

János hesitates at the threshold, his father's voice from the hall seeming very distant now. He can almost hear his mother's warning—curiosity killed the cat—yet his feet move downward anyway.

The torchlight catches glimpses of ancient stonework, carvings worn smooth by time and countless hands. At the base of the stairs, he finds a narrow corridor lined with wooden doors, each bearing a small plaque. Latin letters, some newer than others, mark the names of previous occupants.

He can see a medallion, new compared to what surrounds it, on which is engraved the royal seal, the seal of the Drăculeşti dynasty.

"Yoink" If someone left it in a place like this, he doesn't think they'll notice if he takes it, hehe.

The medallion is cool in János's palm, its edges smooth from years of handling. He turns it over in his fingers, the torchlight catching the intricate detailing of the dragon claw clutching a scepter. It's heavier than he expected, the metal thick and solid.

His breath comes faster as he tucks it into his coat pocket. The hallway stretches before him, lined with more doors, their wood darkened by age. The flickering torchlight casts monstrous shadows along the walls.

He always likes to explore places like this. His father jokes that he has the soul of a thief and the face of an innocent.

János sees a small entrance, some kind of vent. It would be interesting to see where it leads

The vent is just wide enough for his frame, the wooden slick with condensation from the deeper tunnels below. János wriggles inside, his breathing shallow as he crawls forward.

The stonework presses close on either side, dust motes swirling in the faint light from behind. The air grows colder, carrying a smell like old stone and decayed parchment.

He pauses when he hears voices, low, distorted by the confined space. Crouching low, he peeks through a vent grating into what appears to be the dinning hall. The prince is going to give his speech.

A heavy, velvet-clad door groans open, and the prince strides in with the bearing of a man accustomed to command. His face is gaunt, the shadows beneath his eyes deep as bruises. He moves with purpose, his cape snapping behind him as he ascends to the raised dais where a podium has been set.

The gathered nobles shift uneasily, their eyes darting to the locked doors and armed guards stationed along the walls. János can hear the prince's words through the vent, slightly muffled by the stone walls.

"My loyal subjects," the prince intones, his words carrying despite their softness.

"Tonight, I stand before you as both your ruler and as a man of the lord. This holy day of the Resurrection is an occasion for joy and unity, and here, in the noble city of Târgoviște, we celebrate not only life, but also the strength of our people.

I am grateful for your presence. All of you, pillars of the kingdom, have come to share this table in honor of our faith and our future. I also offer a prayer for the peace guaranteed to us by our great neighbor, the Ottoman Empire, whose power has kept at bay many enemies more fearsome than ourselves."

The prince's words hang heavy in the air, the gathered nobles shifting uncomfortably in their seats. János keeps his breathing slow and even, careful not to scrape against the wooden grating. He watches as the prince pauses, scanning the room with an unreadable expression before continuing.

"And yet… I can't help but look around this room and see more than familiar faces. I see only damned swine. Swine who have sullied the throne, generation after generation. Where were you, illustrious lords, when my father, Vlad, was betrayed? Where were you when my brother, Mircea, was blinded and buried alive?

Many of you have served each prince as one serves a cup of wine: until it empties… and then it is thrown to the floor. You have changed loyalties more times than you have changed robes, plotting in dark corridors, bending the knee to whoever offered the most gold."

The prince's voice rises, his words echoing through the chamber as he clenches his fists at his sides.

“You have come to celebrate the resurrection… and today you will witness something else, the rebirth of the law. Today, your blood will serve as the foundation for a new order. One where loyalty is not a game of masks.”

The room erupts in chaos. The gathered nobles spring to their feet, overturning chairs as they scramble for the exits. János feels his heart pounding in his chest, his fingers digging into the wooden slats as he watches the unfolding drama below.

The prince's guards move with practiced efficiency, cutting off all escape routes. Screams and pleas for mercy fill the air as the prince's voice rings out once more, cold and merciless.

"Bring them to the courtyard. Let all who see us today know that this is the price of betrayal."

The wooden grating creaks beneath János's weight as he shifts slightly, his breath catching in his throat. Below, the nobles are herded like cattle, their fine clothes now stained with dirt and dust as they stumble into the courtyard. The prince strides ahead, his boots clicking against the stone as he ascends the steps to a makeshift dais.

"The time for empty words is over," he declares, his words carrying across the courtyard. "Today, we begin anew. And today, the blood of traitors will water the roots of a stronger tree."

He gestures, and the guards move in unison, forcing the nobles to their knees. Some sob openly, others glare with defiant rage, but none resist.

What happened next will never be erased from János's memory.

All he remembers is seeing his parents impaled alive on the road leading to the palace. He doesn't know how he got out of that place, he doesn't know what he's doing, he doesn't know what to do.

He can only see his father, once the figure of a strong man, now he just looks at him, he can see his mouth moving, no words coming out, but he knows what he's saying: "Run away."

János runs. His lungs burn, his feet pound against the packed dirt road. He doesn't look back, doesn't stop to catch his breath.

The night air is thick with smoke and blood, his father's blood. The sounds of the executions still echo in his mind, the cries of the nobles, the hollow thud of their bodies hitting the ground. His own father's final choked gasp.

He stumbles, catching himself on a tree. His hands shake violently as he braces against the rough bark. He can feel his body trembling, his pulse hammering in his ears. The world around him is silent save for his ragged breathing. Somewhere in the distance, the bells of the city chime midnight.

He takes another step on the forest and falls, into a dark abyss hidden in the leaves, where darkness engulfs him.

"It's time to be reborn."

The abyss swallows him whole, a void of blackness and suffocating silence. His body twists unnaturally as he plummets, the world above shrinking into nothing. Then, there is nothing. No sound. No feeling. No breath. Just an infinite, empty space.

Then, light.

Chapter Text

7:11 a.m.

Screaming and fighting, insults, and occasionally, something broken. That's what mornings at Aubrey's house were like these days. 

Usually, she would try to go back to sleep to hide the horrible reality she was living, but not today. Today she had something important to do.

Aubrey forces herself to sit up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The morning light struggles to push through the cheap curtains, casting a dark glow over the small room. She listens as her parents argue downstairs, their voices muffled but still audible.

"Useless!" her father shouts. "You can't even hold down a job with how drunk you are most of the time!"

Her mother responds with something unintelligible, but Aubrey can hear the anger, the hate in her voice. It's the same fight they have every morning. She grabs her clothes and gets dressed quickly, careful to make as little noise as possible.

As she descends the stairs, she keeps her head down, avoiding looking at either of her parents.

Fortunately, they're fighting outside the kitchen, so she'll have a good, peaceful breakfast, well, at least as peacefully as she can manage under her circumstances.

8:30 a.m.

Basil's morning was different.

The warm morning sun streams through his bedroom window, casting a soft glow across his collection of potted plants. Basil carefully tends to each one, watering and pruning with gentle precision. His grandmother's voice calls, "Breakfast is ready, dear!"

As he makes his way to the kitchen, he inhales the aroma of freshly fried bacon. His grandmother stands at the stove, humming softly as she cooks. "Good morning, Basil. Did you sleep well?" She turns, her lined face smiling warmly. "The plants look beautiful today. I think they're even happier because you care for them so much."

Basil returns her smile, his face lighting up. "Good morning! Thank you!"

He feels that today is going to be a good day.

8:45 a.m.

Meanwhile, Kel and Hero are already awake and moving. Hero is in the kitchen, dressed in his usual casual clothes, his brown hair pulled back neatly.

He's humming softly as he flips pancakes, filling the house with the aroma of syrup and bacon. Kel stumbles in, still half-asleep, his uniform shirt wrinkled and untucked.

"Morning," Kel mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

Hero looks up and smiles, immediately noticing the disheveled state of his brother. "Good morning, Kel. You look like you just got dragged through a bush."

Kel groans and flops into a chair. "I tried to sleep in, but I keep thinking about the recital today, I'm just too excited"

Hero chuckles, setting a plate of golden-brown pancakes in front of his brother. "That's good, you should be excited. It's a big day for Mari and Sunny."

He pours syrup in a swirling motion, the thick liquid pooling perfectly on Kel's stack. "Try to relax though. You don't want to run out of energy before the main event."

Kel nods, stuffing a huge bite into his mouth. Hero watches him for a moment before sitting with his own plate.

Their parents come down the stairs. "Wow, kiddos, getting ready so early? You know the recital isn't until 7:30 p.m., right?"

Hero nods, taking a bite of his pancakes. "Yeah, but we're pretty excited. Figured we might as well start the day right."

He grins at Kel, who's already halfway through his second pancake. Their mother sighs contentedly, ruffling Kel's hair. "Well, at least you boys are in good spirits. Hero, those pancakes are amazing as always." Hero smiles at the praise.

On his mind, he's thinking about Sunny. He knows how much pressure the boy must be under. Sunny has always seemed so fragile, so easily overwhelmed. He hopes he'll be okay today. Especially considering Mari's stress attacks, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to either of them.

She has a lot on her plate lately: tests, extracurricular activities and this recital. He needs to remind her to stay grounded and be a comfort to her. She can't keep pushing herself like this, she knows it's dangerous.

At least today she'll have a burden lifted for good. She'll be with her little brother on that stage, wearing a beautiful white dress with her perfect hair cascading down, and that smile... her smile... She has always been so beautiful. Hero wants to make her happy, to take care of her and keep her safe. He loves her so much, it hurts sometimes, ahhh...

"Hero, don't leave your mouth open, flies will fly in," his mother said as he came back to reality. Kel and his father laughed, knowing what he was thinking about.

Hero's ears redden slightly as he closes his mouth, chuckling awkwardly. "Right, sorry." He focuses on his plate, shoveling another forkful of pancakes into his mouth to hide his embarrassment.

His father grins knowingly, ruffling his hair in the same way he'd done to Kel earlier. "Ah, love. You'll get used to it eventually, I promise." The older man winks at Hero, his heart is still racing a little.

5:15 p.m.

Meanwhile, Aubrey is pacing nervously in her room, checking the clock every few minutes. She's wearing her favorite outfit, a light blue dress with small flowers, thank you Basil, and her hair is tied back in a neat ponytail.

She's trying to distract herself from her growing anxiety about today's recital by organizing her stuff, but her mind keeps drifting back to Sunny and the pressure he must be feeling.

She knows how much weight a father's expectations can carry, and she worries about him. He's always seemed so... This kind of pressure is not for him.

Aubrey sighs, running a hand through her hair as she straightens the already tidy room. The clock ticks loudly in the silence. She glances at the mirror, taking a moment to smooth out her dress. She looks okay. Cute. But she knows it's not about her today. It's about Sunny. She has to be there for him, to support him and lift him up just as he has been there for her.

She sits on the edge of her bed, chewing her lip. What if he messes up? No, no, he won't. Mari will be there to help him, right? and so will the rest of them. She clenches her fists. She has to help him. Has to be there for him. 

Him... there... in his fancy suit... receiving compliments and flowers... she might give him some flowers, it's not weird, is it?... and then he'd tell her... tell her how beautiful she looks in that dress... maybe they'd go to dinner... just the two of them... and their eyes would connect... and he'd take her hand... and he'd... and then...

Aubrey stops mid-thought, flushing furiously at her own fantasy. She shakes her head, trying to dispel the images. This isn't the time for that. She has to focus. She stands abruptly, grabbing her jacket. It's time to head over to the recital hall.

As she leaves her house and heads to Kel and Hero's house, their parents are going to take her, the brothers and Basil there. Aubrey tries to steady her breathing. The air is cool, carrying the scents of damp earth and early blooming flowers.

It's going to be a great night.

5:30 p.m.

Basil arrives at Kel and Hero's house. He knocks on the door, his fingers tightening around the strap of his small camera bag. The front door swings open, revealing Kel's grinning face.

"Hey Basil!" Kel beams. "You ready for this? They are gonna be great, right?"

Basil nods, stepping inside. He always feels slightly awkward around Kel and Hero's house, it's warm and lived-in, nothing like the quiet, relaxing space he shares with his grandmother. The air smells like home-cooked food and something faintly sweet. Kel's parents are already getting ready.

Hero appears from the hallway, dressed in a crisp black button-down and gray slacks. He smiles at Basil.

"Wow, someone looks really handsome, Mari is going to like it~"

Hero's face reddens slightly at the compliment, his fingers scratching his hair "I... I just thought it would be nice to dress up for Mari's performance."

Kel chuckles, stepping aside to let Basil in fully. "It's good to see you," he says warmly. "Mari and Sunny have been working so hard for this."

Basil nods, glancing around the house. Kel is already bouncing on his toes, unable to contain his excitement. "We should go soon, right? I don't want to be late!" he says.

Hero adjusts the cuffs of his shirt. "Yeah, let's go. Mom's almost done packing her purse." He looks at Basil with a reassuring smile. "You okay, buddy? You look a little tense."

Basil exhales slowly. "I... I just want everything to go well for Sunny. He's been really stressed about it."

Kel claps a hand on Basil's shoulder. "He's gonna do great! Mari's amazing at everything she does. And Sunny too! He's getting better at the violin each day" Kel grins wide.

Hero and Kel's mother appears in the doorway, a warm smile on her face. "Alright boys, everything's ready." She gives Hero a quick hug. "You look very handsome, sweetie. Mari will be so pleased."

She looks at Kel. "That suit and that hairstyle always look good on you, Kel. I wish you wore it more often."

Then at Basil with a gentle smile. "Basil, I'm so glad you could join us today."

Basil smile, nodding slightly. "Thanks for inviting me, but I have to go see Sunny first, see you at the recital."

Hero smiles warmly at Basil's words. "Of course, go ahead. Mari and Sunny are probably already in their living room waiting." His gaze follows Basil as he walks down the street.

On the other hand, Aubrey approaches from the opposite direction and greets them.

"Hey guys! Are you all ready for the recital?" Her long black hair sways as she moves closer, excitement evident in her face. Kel beams back at her, clearly happy to see her.

"Hey! Yeah, we're all set." 

It's nice to see those two on the same page, weird but nice.

"Okay, kids, we'd better go now. There usually aren't many parking spaces around that area. I guess Basil's going with the Suzukis."

Hero nods at his mother's words. "Yeah, he probably wanted to take some pictures of them before the recital or something. We should head out now though." He turns to Aubrey with a gentle smile. "You're coming with us, right?"

Aubrey's cheeks flush slightly as she nods. "Yeah, of course! I wouldn't miss it for the world." She adjusts the hem of her dress nervously, trying to hide her eagerness.

They can feel it, it's going to be a perfect night.

Chapter Text

1943

Faraway Town

Two little girls play in the garden of a house. A 12-year-old girl with short, messy blonde hair and overalls, runs around the backyard with her cousin who is also 12. They're both giggling and playing tag.

The summer heat beats down on them. As they play, the mind of the first wanders to the darkening sky.

The blonde girl's laughter fades as she turns toward the horizon. The sun is sinking fast, painting the sky in rich oranges and pinks. Her cousin chases her, unaware of the shift in her mood. She stops suddenly, causing her cousin to bump into her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The other girl looks concerned, brushing dirt from her dress.

"I..." The blonde girl hesitates, glancing back at the house. "I don't want to go inside yet."

"Why not?" Her cousin tilts her head, confused.

The blonde girl hugs herself, rubbing her arms against the cool evening air. "Because of him."

"Our uncle?" The other girl speaks softly.

The blonde girl nods, her gaze downcast. "He's been... different lately. Mom says he's stressed about the war."

Her cousin moves closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to be afraid of him. He wouldn't hurt you."

A bitter laugh escapes the blonde girl's lips. "You don't know him like I do. When he drinks... he gets angry." She swallows hard, her fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of her overalls.

The girls stand in silence for a moment, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the garden. Distant shouts from the house make the blonde girl flinch.

"That's why I like coming over your place, to play with you" she whispers.

Her cousin squeezes her shoulder gently. "You're always welcome there. My parents love having you visit."

The blonde girl nods, though she can't quite bring herself to believe it. She knows her aunt and uncle are kind, but part of her still fears that kindness will someday be going to run out, like everything else. She watches the sun dip lower, painting the clouds in deep reds and purples.

"Come on," her cousin says softly. "Let's go inside before they get worried."

The blonde girl hesitates, "Can we go exploring a little? There's still time, and... I think we can stop by the pond in the park and watch the sunset there. What do you think?"

Her cousin hesitates, glancing between her and the house. The sun has dipped lower now, glowing orange all over the neighborhood. She bites her lip.

"Okay," she finally says, speaking quietly. "But we need to be quick. If my parents don't see me coming back soon, they'll get nervous."

The blonde girl nods eagerly, already stepping toward the path. She quickens her pace, as if eager to leave the looming presence of her house behind. The air is crisp, carrying the smell of damp earth and blooming flowers.

The two girls make their way through the quiet neighborhood, the setting sun casting everything in a warm, golden light.

As they near the park, the blonde girl's steps become more hesitant. Her cousin notices and gently squeezes her hand. "Hey, are you okay?"

The blonde girl forces a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... sometimes I get scared of the dark." She laughs nervously, her fingers tightening around her cousin's. "Stupid, right? I'm not a little kid anymore."

Her cousin shakes her head, a warm smile on her face. "It's not stupid at all. Everyone gets scared sometimes, my dad says that's what makes us human."

They enter the area where the pond is located, it's beautiful, with a strange statue in the center. She heard that the mayor's office plans to pave and illuminate that area to make it a more beautiful extension of the park.

The pond reflects the golden light of the setting sun, its still surface catching tiny ripples as a light breeze passes through. The statue in the center, an angular, abstract figure reaching toward the sky, casts strange, elongated shadows across the water. Her cousin seems transfixed by it, her fingers still entwined with hers as she gazes at the reflection of the statue in the water.

"I wonder what it's supposed to be," she murmurs, more to herself than to anyone.

The blond girl study the statue too, tilting her head. "Maybe it's just... something abstract," she suggest. "Or maybe it's supposed to represent... something bigger?."

...

"Hey, look at that, it's a strange flower" The blonde girl follows her cousin's gaze to where she points, a small cluster of dark blue flowers near the edge of the pond, their petals thin and wispy like delicate strands of silk.

The light from the setting sun catches them in such a way that they seem almost luminescent, their color deepening as the sky fades from orange to indigo.

"Wow," she breathes, stepping closer. The night air is cool against her skin, carrying the sweet fragrance of the flowers. "They're beautiful."

Her cousin crouches down beside them, reaching out carefully. "I've never seen these before. Have you?"

She shakes her head, kneeling down next to her. "Wow! Look, there's more glittering in the forest."

"They're all over," she murmur, standing up from the flowers. The blue petals brush against her fingertips, and for a moment, she can swear they pulse faintly, as if breathing. She brush the thought away. The light in the forest is mesmerizing, pulling her toward it without quite meaning to.

Her cousin is distracted watching another patch of flowers. "Do you think they're... edible? Haha... Vecky?" She scans her surroundings. "Come on, this isn't funny."

The forest hums with an energy that feels alive...

"Vecky?" she calls again, her words unsteady now. She turns in a slow circle, eyes darting between the glowing flowers. "Where did you go?"

The silence stretches too long.

The blond girl is running, she doesn't know how she got lost, all she knows is that... she doesn't know where to go.

She feels the grass crunch beneath her feet as she stumbles forward, branches scraping against her arms and legs. The world around her has become a maze of shadows and light, each step taking her further from the safety of the park.

The blue flowers seem to pulse with an eerie glow, their ethereal light casting strange shapes on the ground. She can hear her own ragged breathing as panic sets in, her heart pounding so loudly it drowns out any sounds that might help her find her way back.

And suddenly, a sound... a growl... an animal...

The girl freezes, her heart pounding in her chest as she tries to pinpoint the source of the sound. The forest around her is eerily silent, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. She slowly turns her head, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement.

There it is...

That thing is looking right at her, it's like a big, black-furred feline, its bright eyes are the only thing shining now.

The feline-monster tilts its head, glowing eyes narrowing as it studies her. She can feel its gaze bore into her, intense and unblinking. It takes a slow step forward, its massive paws leaving deep impressions in the soft earth. The air hums with a strange energy, something unnatural that makes the hair on her arms stand on end.

She tries to walk backwards, her pulse hammering in her ears. Her breath comes in short gasps as the creature advances again, then again. Each step is deliberate, measured, like it's savoring the moment.

Her back hits a tree...

She's trapped...

Chapter Text

An ideal world, what would it look like? If you ask Sunny, he would say it would be a bright world where he would have no worries other than the adventures of him and his friends.

Lately, dreams of that ideal world, his Headspace, have begun to sprout in his head.

A world of purple sky and funny constellations, where everything is as it used to be, where no one expects him to become perfect, no one compares him to anyone, no one criticizes him for being who he truly is.

Unfortunately it is just a dream, a very beautiful one, but only a dream.

A dream from which he wakes up every morning with the cold bucket of water that is the practice for the recital.

These last few practices he's done alone, it seems his sister has come to hate being with him.

It's my fault for not being enough. She's always more than enough for others, but when it's his turn to return the favor, he simply can't. He's useless.

Today is the big day. Today he has to be perfect. He has to show the world that he can do it. He has to show his parents, his father, that he's not a waste of time. And even more importantly, he has to show Mari that she can count on him and make her proud. Today everything will change, he can feel it.

He gets ready and comes down to the living room, his fingers twitching at his sides as he stares at the violin case on the table. His heart pounds as he recalls his father's words from last night.

"If you embarrass us at the recital, Sunny, I don't even want to think about what I'll do. Remember, your sister's future depends on this recital."

His hands shake as he reaches for the case, the metal latch feeling cold against his fingertips. He clicks it open, revealing the polished wood of the instrument inside. It's beautiful, just like the piano his sister plays. He should feel honored, but all he feels is pressure pressing down on him.

The notes he's practiced over and over echo in his head.

...

He's ready.

Without even having breakfast yet, he opens the door to the piano room, Mari is already inside practicing, he's going to show her that he can do it... right?

Mari doesn't turn around at first, her fingers moving swiftly over the keys as she plays a difficult piece. She's in a rhythm, her posture perfect, back straight, every note ringing clear and confident.

The sound fills the room, bright and hopeful. Sunny stands in the doorway for a moment, just watching her. He wishes he could play like that, wishes he could be that sure of himself. His hands tighten around the violin case.

"Mari..." he says softly.

She finishes the song with a flourish before turning to face him. Her dark eyes sweep over him. She exhales slowly, like she's steeling herself for this.

"Are... Are you ready?"

She smiles, but it's small, strained at the edges. She pats the bench beside her, inviting him to sit. "I know you've been practicing a lot," she says, speaking more gently than usual. "I've heard you."

Sunny hesitates before moving to sit next to her. He sets the case on the floor carefully, like it's something fragile. His fingers drum against his thighs as he watches her. "I don't know if I'm ready," he admits, his voice quiet. "What if I mess up in front of everyone? Dad will be so mad."

Mari's face softens for just a second before hardening again.

"This... this has to be perfect, I depend on that, if my... if our recital goes well, imagine the doors that will open for us."

Mari speaks quickly, her words clipped with anxiety. She glances away, focusing on the piano keys before her fingers hover over them. The house feels too quiet.

Sunny shifts uncomfortably on the bench. His fingers twitch, wanting to fiddle with his sweater vest but resisting the urge. "I know," he says softly. "But..." He swallows hard, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "Mari, I don't think I can be perfect like you."

Mari's hands tighten into fists against the piano keys, producing a discordant clang that echoes through the room. She inhales sharply, shoulders rising. "Stop saying that," she says, each word taut with something close to anger "Let... Let's practice".

She doesn't wait for him to respond, already reaching for the sheet music propped up on the piano. Her movements are precise, methodical, an attempt to regain control. Sunny's fingers unsteady as he opens his case, withdrawing the violin with care. The polished wood glows in the dim room light, the bow held loosely in his other hand.

Mari clears her throat, straightening the sheet music. "Let's start from the beginning," she says, her words carrying just enough tension to make her sound rehearsed. Sunny nods, positioning the violin under his chin. He inhales slowly, steadying himself.

Only one thought crosses Sunny's mind:

I can do it, I can do it, I can do it, I can... do it... right?

Is awful, he got nervous.

The first notes are hesitant, wavering like a leaf in the wind. Sunny's bow scrapes against the strings as his fingers tremble. Mari winces. "Sunny," she says, voice sharp. "Listen to me. You're too tense. Relax your shoulders."

Sunny nods, but his fingers only tighten around the bow. He swallows hard. "I... I know." The next note is higher, louder than he intended. It wavers and fades into silence.

Mari exhales sharply through her nose. "You have to breathe, Sunny." She turns slightly on the piano bench, tilting her head to look at him. There's something almost pleading in her eyes.

Her fingers press down on the keys, firm and steady, the first few notes of the piece flowing effortlessly from the piano. "Follow me," she murmurs. "Try to match my rhythm."

Sunny nods again, his throat tight. His bow moves, but the notes that come out are uneven, jarring against Mari's smooth playing. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, her face tightening. "You're rushing," she says, a little louder now. "Slow down."

He inhales shakily. He tries. The second attempt is better, but still wrong. His shoulders are stiff, his arms locked in place.

Suddenly, she's pounding on the piano keys, angry. "I heard you play that part perfectly yesterday, why can't you play it now?!"

Sunny flinches, his fingers jerking off the strings as the bow clatters to the floor. His breath comes in short, panicked gasps. Mari stares at him, her hands still pressed against the keys, the music abruptly cut off. The silence between them is thick, suffocating.

"You're sabotaging yourself," Mari says, her voice tight with frustration. "I don't understand why you can't just do it right." She runs a hand through her hair, turning away slightly. "God, Sunny, I've been practicing for months. And you... you're making me look bad."

Sunny's breath hitches. His fingers curling into loose fists. He doesn't answer. He doesn't trust himself to speak without his voice breaking. Instead, he bends down stiffly to pick up his bow, his movements jerky, uncoordinated.

Mari exhales loudly, shoulders rising and falling. "Sunny," she says, quieter now, but no less tense. "Look at me."

He hesitates, then lifts his gaze. Her face is tight, her lips pressed together in a thin line. But there's something else there too... something hesitant, something almost like regret flickering behind the irritation.

"Maybe... I think you should rest a little, go to the bathroom, put water on your head and... come and keep practicing, we have until 7:00 p.m... Well, more like until 6:00, our parents have to drive there."

The words press down on him like a weight. His throat tightens further. She wants him to go, to give her space. His fingers grip the bow too tightly, the wood creaking under the pressure.

"Okay," he manages, voice small. His shoes scuff against the floor as he turns away.

Mari doesn't stop him.

He makes his way to the hallway, his steps slow and uneven. He wants to cry.

Time passed. They practiced for hours without stopping. He made mistakes, she got angry. Occasionally, she sent him on small tasks, check that, pick up that, he knew they were just to get him away from her for a while. At noon, they had a horribly silent lunch and continued practicing.

Another break... From him.

The hallway is narrow, the walls pressing in. Sunny's fingers dig into the fabric of his sweater vest as he walks, his breath coming in shallow bursts. He hears Mari resume the piece behind him, the notes sharp with frustration.

The bathroom door creaks when he opens it. He flicks on the light and stares at himself in the mirror. His reflection shows a boy with red-rimmed eyes, his bangs damp with sweat, his shirt collar wrinkled. His hands shake as he turns on the faucet, splashing cold water onto his face. The chill burns at first, but then it settles into numbness.

Sunny grips the sink's edge, staring at the water dripping from his chin. His reflection is blurred with tears he hadn't realized he'd shed. The porcelain is cool beneath his hands, grounding him slightly.

The house feels too quiet. The music from the living room has stopped. Mari must have paused again, waiting for him to return. He shouldn't take too long. She's already angry. If he disappoints her any more, if he shows weakness...

His stomach twists. He rinses his face one more time, then reaches for the towel. It's soft, worn from years of use. The same towel they've had since he was little.

He dries his face slowly, savoring the moment of calm before returning to the storm. The towel smells like home, like safety that no longer exists. His fingers linger on the fabric as he considers his next move.

When did everything change, when did I stop being happy, when did Mari start getting so angry with me?

The towel drops from his hands onto the sink, forgotten. Sunny's reflection wavers in the mirror, his eyes dark and hollow. The question hangs in the air, unanswered.

Outside the bathroom door, the house remains eerily silent. No music drifts down the hallway. Mari has stopped playing. Sunny knows she's waiting for him, waiting for him to come back and try again, waiting for him to prove he's not the problem she fears he is.

His throat tightens.

He should go back. He should pick up the violin again and pretend he's fine. But his hands won't stop shaking. The memory of her voice, sharp, accusatory, echoes in his mind.

He wants to go back... not to the piano room, he wants to go back to his life, to be happy.

And this thing, the violin, is what took everything from him. If only they hadn't given it to him, he wouldn't have to prove anything to anyone.

His sister and dad's words replay in his mind, each one a fresh wound: "You're ruining everything," "Why can't you just be normal?" "You're making me look bad."

If everything were ideal, if everything was like in his Headspace, he would just make that thing disappear, just drop it somewhere or sell it for clams and nobody would care.

Yeah, he could just go to the highest point of Headspace and drop that thing so that...

¡Crash!

...

...

What did he just do?...

This isn't Headspace, it's his reality. The violin...

Oh no...

Chapter Text

The sound of breaking wood echoes through the house, jolting Sunny back to reality. His hands clench as he realizes what he's done.

He just threw his violin down the stairs. The violin, the gift from his friends, is now a worthless pile of splinters on the floor. Tears well up in his eyes, a mix of guilt and regret, but also from the release of long-suppressed anger and frustration.

Heavy footsteps leave the piano room revealing Mari, now standing downstairs, her face is a mask of shock and disappointment. "Sunny," she says, her words feel like a heavyweight. "What have you done?..."

Silence...

"What the heck have you done?!"

The words hit like a physical blow, sharp and cutting. Sunny flinches, his face contorting in fear and shame. He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. His eyes dart around frantically, searching for an escape from this confrontation. Mari's footsteps echo as she ascends the stairs, each step feeling ominous.

"You threw it away," she murmurs, the words rough with disbelief. Her hands clench at her sides. "You... you destroyed it." She speaks louder, emotion cracking through. "Do you know how much that means for us? We spend days collecting the money and you simply throw it away like... garbage?!"

Mari stands before him now, her face tight with anger, but her eyes, he can see it in her eyes. Disappointment. Contempt. Disgust. The same look his father gives him every time he fails.

"Say something!" Mari demands, her words sharp with frustration. She steps closer, invading his space. He instinctively retreats, but there's nowhere to go, he's already against the wall.

Sunny's breathing comes faster now.

"You threw it away," Mari repeats, her words quiet now but no less intense. "Do you even realize what you've done?"

Sunny swallows hard, feeling his throat tighten. His hands twitch at his sides, fingers curling into fists and then relaxing again. His chest feels tight, like there's a weight pressing down on it.

"I... I didn't mean to," he mutters, his voice small, cracking slightly.

Mari scoffs, shaking her head. "You didn't mean to? You just... what, tripped? It slipped out of your hands?!" She speaks with sarcasm, but there's something else beneath it, something desperate, something pained. "You threw it down the stairs, Sunny."

Her words become laced with anguish, and she clutches the railing for support. "Do... Do you even try to catch it? Or you just watched it fall?"

Sunny's eyes drop to the floor, unable to meet his sister's gaze. He feels a crushing wave of shame as the memory of that moment floods back to him. The way the violin had slipped from his fingers, the lack of emotions as he watched it tumble down the stairs, the sickening crack as it hit the ground. He hadn't meant to do it, but in that moment, some part of him had felt relieved.

"I... I'm sorry," he whispers, the words almost inaudible.

Mari exhales sharply, her fingers tightening around the railing. She steps closer, her shadow falling over Sunny as she looms above him. "Sorry?" she repeats, her words shaking slightly. "Sorry doesn't fix this, Sunny."

Her hand rises instinctively, as if to grab his shoulder, but she stops herself, letting it hover in the air for a second before lowering it.

She looks down at him, her gaze intense. "Do you know what you've done? What this means for us? For our parents?... For me?" Her words crack slightly on the last word, betraying her true feelings.

Sunny doesn't raise his head. He keeps his eyes fixed on the floor, where his shadow stretches long and dark.

...

"I... I need some time... time alone..." Mari sounds defeated, as if something in her has broken and she can't argue any further.

Mari's hand falls limply to her side as she turns away, her shoulders tense. Sunny sees the slight tremble in her fingers as she grips the railing. She takes a deep breath, steadying herself, but the sound catches, halfway between a sigh and a sob.

"I... I'm going downstairs," she mutters, speaking hoarsely. She doesn't look back at Sunny, doesn't even glance over her shoulder as she begins to descend the stairs. Each step is slow, deliberate, like she's afraid she might stumble.

Sunny don't follow. He just stand there, staring at the broken pieces of the violin spread across the floor.

...

A dark voice in his head, which he used to have nightmares about, which he used to see with the distorted faces of his father and sister, he can now see it more clearly, it is his own face.

Now you see? They were never the problem, the problem is you, it's always been you. You ruin everything you touch and expect everyone to let you. You're a bad person, Sunny. You shouldn't be around people as good as your friends. Look what you did with their hard work, and all they wanted was for you to participate in a stupid recital. You couldn't even do that.

The dark voice in his head continues, growing louder.

You're a failure, Sunny. Your sister is right to be disappointed in you. Your father is right to be angry. You don't deserve their love or affection. You're nothing but a burden to everyone around you.

As Sunny stands there, paralyzed by self-loathing, the broken pieces of the violin seem to mock him. Each splintered fragment a stark reminder of his failure as a person. The dark voice in his head grows even more insistent, drowning out any other thoughts.

You're useless, Sunny. Why even try anymore? You'll only disappoint everyone again. Give up now before you hurt anyone else.

...

Is there someone under the stairs, Basil? How long has he been there? Did he see everything? Is he... angry with him?

Sunny comes down the stairs and both boys come face to face, Basil looks in shock.

He stares up at Sunny with wide, red-rimmed eyes, his fingers clutching the railing so tightly his knuckles are white. He looks like he's about to cry, but he's holding it back, just barely. His usual nervousness has transformed into something heavier, something almost suffocating in its intensity.

"You... you broke it..." Basil speaks softly, almost inaudibly. His hands tremble as he gestures weakly at the shattered violin. "The one we gave you... The one we all helped pick out..."

Sunny doesn't respond. He can't. The dark voice in his head is too loud, too insistent. Basil moves closer, his shoes scuffing softly against the floor.

"It's okay, you didn't mean to, right?... It just slipped out, right?... You would never do something like that."

Basil's words waver with uncertainty as he speaks, desperation flickering across his face. His fingers tighten around Sunny's wrist, pulling him closer.

"You didn't mean it, did you, Sunny?" He searches his eyes for something, anything, that will prove his theory right. "You wouldn't... not really..."

Sunny looks away, his throat tight. He doesn't trust himself to speak. The silence stretches between them, heavy with unspoken words. Basil releases your wrist and takes a step back, his face falling.

"... You did mean it." The realization hits him like a hit. "You... you really don't want to play anymore." He speaks hoarsely now, barely above a whisper.

"It's okay, everything... I just... we have to... I don't know how to help..." Basil starts to cry "I... you're my friend and I love you but... I don't know how to help you... I'm useless..."

Basil sniffles, wiping his face with the back of his hand, tears still streaming down his cheeks. His breathing is uneven, shoulders shaking as he tries to compose himself.

The dark voice sounds again. See, you break your friends, you just take, take, and take and hope that in the end there will be no consequences for you, pathetic. You should disappear from their lives for good.

Sunny's heart races as he hears the voice's words echoing in his mind.

You don't deserve to have friends like him. You've hurt him so deeply, and you'll only hurt him more if you stay.

The voice is cold, ruthless, and convincing.

Just leave. Disappear. Let them forget about you. It's the only way to stop hurting the people who care about you.

...

Sunny stood still like a statue, showing no emotion... and simply walked away... Basil tried to take his arm.

Basil's small hand grips his wrist, warm and firm. His fingers twitch slightly as if afraid he might disappear completely if he doesn't hold on. His breathing has steadied, but his voice remains thick with emotion. "Sunny... please don't go."

But Sunny doesn't turn around. He just keeps walking, each step carrying him further from the shattered pieces of his failure. Basil's grip tightens, and for a moment Sunny think he might actually pull him back. Instead, he just stumbles after him, his breathing coming in short bursts.

"Sunny... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I just... I was scared. Please... Don't leave me..."

Sunny halts. Not because of what Basil says, but because he can't bring himself to go any further. The dark voice in his head doesn't stop though, it coils tighter around his thoughts like a noose.

See how he clings to you? He needs you. But you'll only disappoint him again. You'll break him like you always do.

Sunny pushes Basil... Basil has a hurt expression on his face... neither of them expected that. He only brings pain.

Sunny ran as fast as he could, left his house and ran, ran to stop hurting the people he loves, ran to a place where he won't hurt anyone else.

Sunny runs, his breath ragged, the cold air biting at his skin through the thin fabric of his sweater vest. His shoes slap against the pavement in a rhythm that matches the pounding of his heart. He doesn't stop at the corner, he crosses without looking, dodging the slow-moving cars with an instinct born of habit rather than thought. 

His legs burn, but he doesn't stop. He crosses the park to the hidden spot he and his friends share or used to before his mistake, he really ruins everything.

...

There Sunny stands alone, all alone... and it's all his fault... He can't hold it back any longer and his emotionless face breaks into tears.

The cold air stings as Sunny's tears streak down his face, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he collapses onto the ground near the pond. The water ripples slightly from the wind, mirroring the way his emotions churn inside him. His hands dig into the soft earth beneath him, pulling up clumps of dirt as he clenches his fists.

"I don't want to hurt them anymore," he whispers to himself, the words thick and hoarse.

"I don't want to ruin everything."

...

A fallen leaf drifts past his line of sight, catching the weak light filtering through the trees.

He can see flowers... beautiful flowers that shine... that call to him, invite him to follow...

Sunny blinks, momentarily distracted by the ethereal vision. The flowers seem to pulse with an inner light, their petals moving in a gentle dance that draws him forward. He stands, his feet moving unconsciously towards the radiant blooms.

As he approaches, the flowers shift and change, their colors morphing into more vibrant hues. Their fragrance is intoxicating, sweet and alluring. The leaves rustle softly, and Sunny's heart pounds as he steps closer, enraptured by the otherworldly beauty before him.

The flowers part, revealing a small opening in the underbrush. Through it, Sunny can see a path leading deeper into the forest, lined with more glowing flora.

"Do you want to go somewhere new? A place to start over?"

The words seem to hang in the air, carried on a breath of wind that carries no sound. Sunny hesitates, his fingers twitching at his sides as he looks from the flowers to the path beyond. He can hear the distant sounds of the park, but they feel far away, almost like they belong to another world.

"I... I don't know," he admits softly. The flowers pulse again, their light intensifying for a moment before dimming. The air smells sweet, heavy with honey and something else, something that makes his chest feel lighter.

...

He takes a step forward...

Chapter Text

The flowers seem to sing a wordless melody, their voices intertwining to create a harmony that resonates with something deep within Sunny.

Just as he's about to take another step, a sharp crack rings out from behind him. It's followed by the sound of someone calling his name, and Sunny's body jerks to a halt as if caught in a trap.

His heart pounds against his ribs as he turns his head. Through the trees, he sees Aubrey standing at the edge of the clearing, hands on her hips, frowning at the forest floor.

"Sunny? What are you doing out here all by yourself?" she calls, sounding more curious than concerned.

She lifts her gaze, and her dark brown eyes find him immediately, bright with unmistakable relief.

Sunny swallows hard, his eyes darting back to the glowing path for just a moment before he forces himself to look at Aubrey. The flowers seem to dim slightly as he steps away from them, the world shrinking back into something more ordinary.

"I just... I did something horrible, please forgive me."

As soon as he starts walking toward Aubrey, he realizes something is wrong, something is very wrong.

The distance between them seems infinite, and no matter how far he walks, he can't reach her.

The color of the sky and his surroundings begins to change and he realizes he is not in the lake anymore.

He reaches out his hand, trying to reach Aubrey. The distance is eternal, but he finally reaches her... he hugs her like he's never hugged her before... it doesn't matter if he dies of shame for doing so, now he feels happy...

But something is wrong... Aubrey doesn't feel... normal? He looks up and sees... he's hugging a moldy tree. Was all that... a hallucination?

His arms unravel from around the bark as reality crushes back down on him. The wood beneath his hands is rough and cold, the texture completely different from Aubrey's soft skin. His stomach twists with humiliation and disgust, though he's not sure if it's aimed at himself or the cruel trick his mind has played.

The woods around him are dimmer now, the glowing path having faded completely. The only light comes from a thin sliver of moon peeking through the canopy above.

He starts walking... thinking about his actions...

Sunny's footsteps crunch against the forest floor, each step carrying more weight than the last. The trees loom around him, their skeletal branches swaying in a breeze that doesn't reach the ground.

The worst part isn't the hallucination, it's that for a moment, he'd believed it. He'd wanted it so badly that his heart had let him pretend, just for a second, that the world wasn't cruel. That Aubrey wouldn't be horrified if she knew how much he wanted to hold her. That his hands wouldn't shake like this at the thought of it.

...

He stops walking... He feels eyes on him...

Sunny freezes, his breath catching in his throat. The forest is still, the rustling of leaves and distant animal sounds silenced. He turns slowly, scanning the shadows between the trees. Something moves... a dark shape shifting against the darkness.

His heart pounds. The air feels too thin, like it's pressing down on his chest. He doesn't call out, doesn't move. Whatever is watching him doesn't make a sound either. It's just... waiting.

Then, from the underbrush, a pair of eyes appear. Yellow and piercing. The creature doesn't emerge fully, but its presence grows heavier, more real.

Sunny swallows hard... He need to... He...

RUN!!!

His legs move before his brain catches up, propelling him through the dense underbrush. The rustling of leaves and snapping twigs beneath his feet drown out all other sound.

But the thing is faster.

Sunny hear it behind him, heavy paws striking the earth, the scrape of claws against bark. A low growl vibrates through the air, rumbling through his body. His lungs burn, but he don't dare look back. The path ahead narrows, the trees pressing closer together, branches snagging at his clothes. Sunny push through, stumbling once, nearly falling.

Then the creature lunges.

Fortunately, a mud hole gives way under his weight, and Sunny falls into a large tree root. The root serves as a shield, as the monster's size makes it too big to fit inside. Sunny, seizing the opportunity, crawls through the mud to the other end of the hole, desperation evident in his hands, torn by the dirt.

The beast slams into the far side of the muddy pit, clawing at the edges, its breath coming in ragged bursts. Its fur is slick with grime, matted and dark with soil. Those yellow eyes burn into Sunny, wild and hungry.

Sunny scramble back on hands and knees, putting distance between himself and the monster. Its growl deepens, a guttural sound that shakes the mud beneath him. It sniffs the air, nostrils flaring, then lets out a frustrated yelp before launching itself at the far side of the pit again. The dirt collapses slightly under its weight, sending a tremor through the ground.

Using his weak arms and adrenaline, Sunny manages to climb out of the mud hole on the other side.

The mud clings to Sunny's clothes and skin as he scrambles up the embankment. His shoes slip on the wet earth, but he keeps pushing forward, knowing the beast is right behind him. He can hear it tearing at the dirt, trying to break free from the pit.

Sunny bursts into a small clearing where the trees thin out slightly. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his pulse hammering in his ears. He turns, expecting to see the monster close behind, but there's only silence. He can still hear it, low, guttural breathing, leaves rustling. It's circling.

Then it appears at the edge of the clearing.

A massive shape looms in the shadows, its yellow eyes burning like twin suns in the darkness. The beast moves with predatory grace, circling Sunny slowly. It's easily twice his size, with matted black fur and razor-sharp claws. The creature's gaze is fixed on him, unblinking and hungry.

Sunny takes a few steps back, without even looking where he's going. The beast growls at this. Sunny is visibly desperate.

The beast's growl deepens, rumbling through the clearing like distant thunder. Sunny stumbles backward, his shoes sliding slightly in the damp earth. His breath comes in quick, shallow gasps, and his hands tremble at his sides. The creature moves with terrifying ease, muscles rippling beneath its matted fur as it closes the distance between them. It stops mere feet away, head lowered slightly, yellow eyes fixed on Sunny with an intensity that sends cold dread through him.

Sunny's voice cracks as he speaks. "I... I didn't mean to disturb you." The words sound pathetic even to his own ears.

The beast lets out a low, guttural sound that isn't quite a growl.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him gives way, revealing that he's been standing on a precipice all this time. The world slows down before his eyes. Is this how he's going to die?

Shockingly, the beast leaps toward him... 

It's the last thing he remembers...

Chapter Text

The sound of a hospital gurney overwhelms everything around him.

What happened?... Was it all a dream... a nightmare?

"Soldier! Think again! What happened to the Kocher River garrison?!"

"I... I don't... I don't know... I don't remember..."

"Try to remember... What ripped off your arm?"

...

"There are monsters in the forest of Germania Superior"

...

"We'll burn them all"

Three voices can be heard speaking near him.

"Shit, look at his arm, I... I don't think it should be bent like that."

"Nope, it's fucked up"

"Damn, what did you do to the poor thing?!"

"What did I do to him!? What the hell are you insinuating!? I saw him fall off a cliff. He fell like... two stories down!"

"Attention, passengers on flight 1504 bound for Boston. Please report to gate B3 for boarding. Groups 3 and 4 are being called to board. Thank you."

"Damn, millions of dollars and I still have to stop in Boston. Why the hell didn't the old folks build the community in a place with an airport? Well, at least I'm taking some souvenirs from Japan with me hahaha"

"Sir... are you talking to me?"

"Oh no... I was... I was just... no... excuse me... I thought I was thinking that..."

The lights shine before him, his blurry eyes struggle to adjust to the light.

"All right people, ABCDE, hurry up"

"The boy is breathing, but he's semiconscious."

"He's breathing low, so we need to intubate him." 

"It appears that there's no internal bleeding, only superficial external cuts."

"Glasgow at 10… SatO2 at 92…"

"Remove those muddy clothes, clean the affected areas."

"Immobilizing injured arm. Boy, this is going to hurt a little."

He can feel the pain of a syringe entering him, it's sharp and rings in his ears.

"Given the recent lack of heirs for the Csáky house, its domains and assets will pass to our lord, the great Vlad al III-lea Țepeș"

Someday you'll pay for what you did, you bloodthirsty bastard.

"Damn it, get out of the operating room, you morons!"

"Don't worry, he seems stable now. Besides, it's not every day a human child comes here."

"If I had a coin for every time that happens, I'd have two. It's not much, but it's rare that it's happened twice."

"I don't want this to become an habit."

"Look at that! Even Sleeping Beauty came out of his castle to see the boy."

"Shut up, idiot, there isn't much to do these days." 

"This... is a change of routine... I don't like it."

"To me he looks cute and handsome, hehe."

"Today marks seven years since the little girl (...) disappeared. The state will classify her as legally deceased. Officers conducted an exhaustive search throughout Faraway Forest but found no clues. The mayor's office issued a statement stating that the pond area in the park is too dangerous due to its isolation and will be closed indefinitely. The tragedy has already affected several families in the area, acquaintances, and friends. Many still remember the suicide of (...) uncle of the little girl after leading the first five years of the search. Dr. Hendrik, do you wish to comment?..."

"Move aside, move aside, let me see him. Hmm... he doesn't look healthy, pale, his fingers are calloused, he's a bit skinny. What kind of kid has dark circles under his eyes?"

"What do we do with him? Do we put him in a box and drop him off at the nearest human hospital?"

The sound of someone being hit with an elbow in the stomach can be heard.

...

"I'll take care of him"

...

Chapter Text

7 days

A drip... the faucet was dripping... each drop hitting the white surface of the sink made her remember time... each drop fell perfectly in a second... it was perfect... that made her stomach turn again...

Every second... was a second in which her beloved little brother was still missing.

Mari stood in the bathroom, her reflection in the mirror showing dark circles under her eyes, her long black hair unkempt. The past days had been a blur of police interviews, search parties, and sleepless nights. She gripped the edges of the toilet, her knuckles white, as another drop fell from the faucet. The sound seemed to echo through the empty house, emphasizing the silence that had settled over it. She puked again.

...

Someone is knocking on the front door, jolting her from her thoughts. She quickly splashed water on her face and ran a hand through her hair, trying to compose herself before heading downstairs. Through the glass of the living room, she could make out a police car's silhouette.

The knocking comes again, three firm raps, deliberate but not impatient. Mari hesitates, her fingers twitching at her sides. She inhales slowly, straightening her posture in a way that feels instinctive now. Her yellow skirt rustles as she moves, a small, familiar sound in this too-quiet house.

Mari swallows hard and opens the door. She can see two silhouettes. A woman and a man. The detectives assigned to Sunny's case, maybe.

"Mari, right?"

The woman's voice is gentle, but firm, like a doctor telling someone their loved one has taken a turn for the worse. Mari nods once, her throat tight.

"I'm Detective Bell, this is Detective Warren. Can we come in?"

Mari steps aside without a word, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. The two detectives move past her, and she catches their glances, the way they take in the quiet living room, the framed photos on the wall. Detective Bell sits on the couch, while Warren remains standing for a while, looking around. His eyes land on the piano room.

"I can guess that's the room you said you both practiced in, right?"

Mari nods stiffly. She can feel Detective Warren's eyes on the piano room, on the sheet music still splayed open on the stand, the half-finished practice notes scrawled in her own handwriting. She hadn't touched it since that day.

Detective Bell leans forward slightly, resting her forearms on her knees. "Mari, I know this is hard. But we need to go through some things again. If that's okay with you."

Mari presses her lips together. "I don't know what else I can say."

"Sometimes," Bell says carefully, "there are details we overlook the first time. Small things that only come back later."

Mari exhales sharply through her nose.

"I don't know what more I can add. I've told you everything I remember." Mari's fingers wrap around the hem of her yellow skirt, bunching it up tightly. "That afternoon is very painful to remember."

Warren shifts, his eyes still fixed on the piano room. "Believe me, we know, we will only focus on the details that interest us most, it is not our intention to go on too long." His words carry a note of... something that makes Mari's stomach clench.

Bell nods sympathetically. "We appreciate your cooperation. Every little detail could be crucial."

Mari takes a shaky breath, her attention fixed on a spot on the floor. "I was preparing for the recital. Sunny was supposed to play with me. But he was..." She swallows hard. "He was struggling with his part. He always gets so anxious, you know? So I tried to help him."

Bell's pen scratches softly as she writes. "And what exactly did you do to help him?"

Mari's jaw clenches. "I just tried to explain the rhythm, the fingerings. I thought if I could break it down step by step, he could understand... But even I was under a lot of pressure, the recital was that same night and... he wasn't prepared... I knew he could do it, I heard him a few times while he was practicing alone, he..."

Bell observes her quietly, her pen poised above her notebook. Mari can feel her attention pressing against her, waiting for her to continue. The memory of that afternoon sits heavy in her chest, a leaden weight that won't loosen its grip. Sunny... his fingers hesitating, the way his breath caught whenever he made a mistake...

"I got frustrated," she admit, speaking quietly. "I was... angry. Not at him. At myself, but... I exploded with anger several times... I said many horrible things to him... I was desperate" Her fingers twist one more time on the fabric of the couch. "I kept telling him to leave the room to take breaks, I knew I was going to explode..."

Warren tilts his head slightly.

"There's no need to continue down that path. Can you tell us again when the last time you saw him was?"

Mari's throat tightens. She's not sure if it's the question or the way Warren looks at her, like he's already decided something, like he knows exactly what happened.

"He went to the bathroom," she murmurs. "It was during one of the breaks I forced him to take to be alone. I told him... I told him to hurry up, that we didn't have much time left. I went back to practicing my part alone."

She inhales shakily, her fingers finally releasing the fabric of her skirt. She remembers how the piano keys felt under her fingers as she ran through the piece again, trying to calm her nerves. The way the sound seemed hollow, distant, as she played on her mind.

"And then... I heard something fall... something on the stairs"

Her heart lurches, remembering the sickening thud. The way it seemed to echo through the house, like a gong struck just behind her eyes. She turns to the detective, her face pale.

"I ran out and found his violin. It was... broken. Completely shattered. There were splinters of wood all over the landing." She closes her eyes, the memory of that moment flooding back. "I called for him, but he... I only remember that we argued... well... more like I yelled at him while he just stood there. I took it out on him."

Warren's pen scratches against his own notepad. "And after that?"

"I... After that, I went to the backyard to cry... I didn't even turn around to look at him one last time... that's the last memory I have of him."

Warren tilts his head slightly as he observes Mari. His eyes are unreadable, but there's something sharp about the way he studies her, like a man who has seen too many people break under pressure.

"You didn't hear anything after that? No screams? No footsteps? Nothing?" he asks, his voice calm but pointed.

Mari tilts her head, her fingers twitching at her sides. "I... I heard Basil... I didn't even know he was in the house... I heard him saying something to Sunny... I don't know what they talked about... I didn't talk much to my friends after what happened." Her voice wavers, and she swallows hard.

Warren exhales through his nose, setting his notepad down on the table with deliberate care.

"You were upset," he states, not a question. "Understandably so.

Mari hates it when people try to make her feel better about the way she acted.

"Okay, according to Basil's story, he saw Sunny quickly leaving the house and heading towards the park. When did you realize Sunny was missing?"

Mari's fingers dig into her thighs as she leans forward slightly. She inhales shakily. "I... I noticed he wasn't home when I got back inside. I looked everywhere... our room, the piano room... I thought maybe he ran off to clear his head."

Warren watches her carefully. "Did you think he might have done something to himself?"

Mari flinches like she's been slapped. "No. I mean... I didn't know. I didn't think that far. I just... I assumed he was scared of me and went for a walk. I didn't even see Basil, he had already gone to look for him"

Warren nods slowly, making a note. "And when did you first suspect something was wrong?"

Mari's throat tightens. "I... I called for him. I checked all the usual places... I wanted to fix things, we could still do the recital together, I knew there was a violin in the school music storage we could borrow... my mind was still on that recital... I wanted to tell him that... I wanted to let him know that his mistakes didn't matter, he was just nervous... Although I was still upset about the broken violin" She pauses, then exhales sharply. "Things got worse when I found Basil in the park, he was crying, he told me he couldn't find him... that he saw him go into the woods next to the hidden pond."

"And then what happened?"

Mari swallows. "I started running. I... I ran everywhere. I went back home and called the police. I talked to them. And then..." She falters. "I just... just sat. I waited."

Warren leans forward, his face lined with concern as he speaks. "I understand this is difficult to discuss. But I need to know, Where were your parents?"

Mari's fingers curl into fists on her lap. Her breath comes in short, sharp bursts, and for a moment she says nothing. When she finally speaks, her words are tight, strained. "They were at work. They... They were supposed to come take us to the recital, but there was still less than an hour or so left. It didn't even occur to me to call them. I was... I don't know what was going on..." She exhales shakily. "I didn't call them right away. I wanted to find him first. I thought if I could fix this myself... I..."

She stops, pressing her lips together. Then she forces herself to continue, looking down at her hands. "They showed up eventually. My dad was angry... he never liked delays... my mom, she... she was constantly on the verge of breaking down emotionally..."

Warren nods slowly, watching Mari's expression carefully. "It sounds like you were overwhelmed," he says.

Mari inhales sharply, nodding. "I don't know what I was thinking. I should have called someone. Should have... done more." She grips her knees tightly. "I kept thinking that if I just found him, everything would be fine. That we could still do the recital together. That..." She stops, her fingers twitching.

Bell leans forward slightly. "Mari, I need you to understand something. You did what you thought was right. At the time, you were under an immense amount of stress. You didn't know the future, you didn't know things were going to get complicated, don't put all that weight on yourself."

Mari's shoulders stiffen. For a moment, she doesn't respond. Then, in a quiet voice that wavers slightly, she says, "That doesn't make it easier."

Warren doesn't say anything right away. Instead, he lets the words settle in the air between them, gives her time to process them. Mari breathes in slowly, deliberately, as if she's trying to steady herself.
"I know," Warren finally says. "It's not easy. It's never easy to live with the choices we make, even when we do the best we can."

"When... when things started looking bad... when we learned Sunny's disappearance was more serious... everything started to fall apart. My friends were back, they'd been waiting at the recital, I couldn't see their faces when they asked me what had happened, I couldn't... I broke down. Basil did a better job explaining to them, I was useless. I watched them try to join the search, seeing their desperate faces in the distance hurt me. My mother suffered a panic attack and my father... I've never seen him so desperate... that look in his eyes... his rapid breathing... his clothes dirty from searching the woods. The world seemed to break apart before my eyes."

Warren's face remains unreadable, but his gaze softens as he listens to Mari. "That must have been unbearable," he says quietly. 

Mari swallows hard, nodding. "Every time I saw Hero or Aubrey or Kel, I felt like I was being torn apart inside. They were all asking me questions, wanting to know what happened. And I... I couldn't give them answers. I had no idea where Sunny was. I still don't."

Bell places a hand on Mari's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"That's enough... we didn't mean for you to delve so deeply into that memory, we're sorry. Remember, if anything goes wrong, you have our personal numbers. We have experience with these types of cases. Don't be embarrassed to ask us for advice or help. No problem is too small."

Mari takes a shuddering breath, forcing herself to straighten. The memory of that day still claws at her mind, the hollow ache of not knowing where Sunny was or what had happened to him. She wipes at her face with the back of her hand, hating how she must look to Warren and Bell, red-eyed, shaking. She wants to be strong, to be perfect, but right now she feels anything but perfect.

"Thank you," she murmurs. Her words sound raw, like she's been screaming even though she hasn't made a sound. She reaches up and rubs at her temple.

Both detectives thank her for her time with a compassionate handshake and head for the door.

The detectives exit, leaving Mari alone in the dimly lit living room. The house feels hollow without Sunny's presence, despite Mewo winding around her ankles, purring. She stares at the spot where the detectives had been sitting, their words still ringing in her ears.

She doesn't know what she was expecting, really. Perhaps closure, or at least some kind of answer. But there's nothing. No leads, no sign of Sunny. Just the crushing pressure of not knowing where he is or what happened to him.

Mari sinks onto the couch. The guilt is a constant companion now, gnawing at her insides.

Chapter Text

18 days

The rain had begun to fall slowly, each drop making his task more difficult, but Basil did not give up, he had taken on the task of hanging posters of Sunny all over the town and he would achieve it... he needed to achieve it... he felt that he should at least do something right.

...

The rain falls harder now, soaking through Basil's thin sweater as he pastes another missing poster on the wall of the Faraway Plaza. His hands shake slightly, the wet paper slipping from his grip. He leans against the wall, watching the drops blur his vision.

Aubrey and Kel approach holding their umbrellas, both looking exhausted. Aubrey's usually bright eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, her long black hair sticking to her face in wet strands. Kel's shoulders slump, his cheerful demeanor nowhere to be found. They stop a few feet away, staring at the newest poster. Kel speaks first, voice rough with sadness.

"Basil... you didn't have to do all this alone." He gestures at the posters, now hanging on nearly every available surface of the plaza. "We should've helped."

Basil wipes rain from his face, not bothering to hide his tears. "I needed to do something," he says hoarsely. "Even if it help only a little"

Aubrey hands him an umbrella, his grandmother's. "Your grandma is worried, Basil. She went out to look for you, but it started raining. We saw her, and she asked us to bring you this."

Basil takes the umbrella, his fingers brushing against Aubrey's as he accepts it. His grandmother's face swims in his mind, her worried expression, her gentle hands patting his hair, the way she always says, "Don't worry, I'll be here. Always."

Aubrey watches his reaction carefully, her posture tense with concern. She glances at Kel, then back to Basil. "We were thinking... maybe we should go to the police station again. Ask if they have any new leads." Her voice cracks slightly on the last word.

Kel nods vigorously, rain dripping from his short brown hair. "Yeah. And maybe talk to Mari again. See if she know anything we don't." The air feels a little heavier between them when Kel mentions Mari.

"She's not gonna help us that much" Basil's resentful tone was easily noticeable.

"Basil, don't be like that." Kel's words are gentle, but his brow furrows. "Mari's just worried about Sunny too. She's not the enemy here."

Basil's hands clench around the umbrella handle. "Yes, because she's sooo perfect. Let's not even focus on the fact that she left Sunny alone and vulnerable and isn't even helping us hang sad posters, because she's the one suffering in this situation, she's the victim, poor thing."

Basil's sarcastic tone surprises them both they hadn't expected that from the calmest member of the group.

Aubrey flinches slightly at Basil's outburst, her face tightening. Kel looks between them, clearly caught off guard by the sudden intensity. Rain patters against the umbrellas, filling the silence that follows Basil's bitter words.

Basil doesn't look away, his pale eyes burning into Aubrey's face. "You're right, Aubrey. Maybe we should go to the police station again. Maybe that'll make Mari happy." His words carry a sharp edge that cuts through the damp air. "Because that's what matters here, right? Making Mari happy. Not finding Sunny."

Aubrey's hands tighten into fists at her sides. "That's not fair, Basil. You know we're all trying, but you keep acting like this is somehow all Mari's fault." She shakes her head, rainwater shaking loose from her hair. "Mari's hurting too, you know."

Basil scoffs, looking away. "Yeah, right. She's so hurt she couldn't even be bothered to come with us today. She's too busy being the perfect daughter, too busy performing for everyone." His fingers tighten even more.

Kel shifts uncomfortably between them. "Hey, come on, guys. We're all stressed out. Fighting ain't gonna help anything."

Basil's breathing is ragged, his fingers twitching. He looks at Kel for a moment, then back to Aubrey, something flickering in his face between anger and pain. "You think I don't know that?" His words come out hoarse. "You think I don't know how much she hurts? I see how she pushes him, how she gets angry, how she expects him to be perfect like her..."

Aubrey flinches, her expression tightening. "Basil, stop."

"Why?" Basil lifts his chin slightly, rainwater sliding down his face. "You don't want to hear it? You don't want to admit how much of this is because of Mari? Are you going to cry because I'm telling the truth about your role model?"

Kel moves closer to Aubrey, as if to shield her from Basil's words, but his presence only makes Basil scoff.

"You don't even try to defend her" Basil mutters. He wipes his hand across his face, smearing rainwater and tears. "You just stand there like you don't care either way."

That hurt Kel right in the heart.

Aubrey glares at him, lips pressed into a thin line. "We care about Sunny, Basil. More than you think we do." She speaks with an edge of warning, but there's something fragile in her words.

Basil lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Care about Sunny? I don't see you doing anything to find him. I've put up most of the posters. I'm the one who has to go door to door asking neighbors if they've seen anything. I have to beg you to help me because you wouldn't do it anyway."

His words hang between them, thick with hurt and accusation. Aubrey's hands curl into fists at her sides, rainwater dripping from her fingers. Kel exhales slowly, clearly unsettled by the charged atmosphere. In an instant, Aubrey lunges at Basil and grabs him by the sweater.

"I have been helping!" Aubrey snaps, though her voice wavers. "I helped put up posters at the school today, didn't I? I've been asking everyone about him! Don't you dare say that stupid shit to my face again or I'll blow your teeth out, you moron!"

Aubrey's eyes flash with something dangerous, her breath coming faster now. But she realizes what she's doing and who she's doing it to and lets Basil go. "I... Why are you acting like an idiot?!"

Basil's expression flickers, his bottom lip quivering for just a second before he clamps down on it. His fingers dig into the front of his sweater vest, knuckles whitening. "Because I don't know what else to do," he says quietly. "Because he's gone and I don't know where. And you act like it doesn't bother you nearly as much as it bothers me." He starts crying.

Kel shifts uneasily beside Aubrey, rainwater pooling around his sneakers.

Aubrey exhales sharply through her nose, rainwater streaming down her face like tears of her own. She looks down at the ground, jaw tight, before shaking her head. "That's not true," she mutters, but there's no force behind it. Her fingers flex at her sides, curling into loose fists before relaxing again. The rain pounds harder now, soaking through their clothes, but neither of them moves to take shelter.

Basil sniffles, wiping at his face with the back of his hand. His sweater vest is now soaked through, clinging to his frame. Aubrey's gaze flickers up to meet his, her dark eyes glistening with something more than just rainwater. Kel shifts his weight again, arms wrapping around himself as he glances between them.

"I know you're worried," Kel says, speaking gently despite the rain pelting his skin. "But yelling at each other isn't gonna help."

Aubrey's shoulders sag slightly at his words, but she doesn't deny it.

Basil swallows hard, his lower lip quivering again before he bites down on it. He looks away, staring down at his rain-streaked shoes. "I just... I miss him," he murmurs. "I don't know where he is. And I don't... I don't know if he misses us."

Aubrey exhales sharply, rainwater rolling down her face as she watches Basil. She hesitates, then steps forward, reaching out. For a second, it looks like she might put a hand on his shoulder, but she stops just short, fingers curling into a loose fist instead. "He does," she says, her words quiet. "I know he does."

Basil doesn't look up, but his shoulders relax just slightly at her words. "Then why won't he come back?" he asks softly.

Aubrey's jaw tightens, her gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to him.

...

The silence lasts for a few seconds until Kel decides to make a decision, he has to become the one who holds his group of friends together.

"Okay, we shouldn't be out here in this rain. What do you think if we go to your house, Basil? Your grandma must be really worried."

Basil flinches at the suggestion. His gaze darts up to meet Kel's before flickering away again. "I... I don't know," he mumbles, shoulders hunching. "She might be... upset."

Aubrey crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly. "Why? Because you're out here on the rain looking for Sunny?" Her tone isn't harsh, but there's an edge to it, like she's daring him to say something else.

Basil hesitates, then shakes his head. "No, it's just... she gets really worried when I'm gone for a long time."

His breathing slows, and after a moment, he gives a small nod. "Yeah... yeah, you're right Kel." He exhales and finally looks up at Kel. "Let's go."

Aubrey exhales, shaking her head slightly before falling into step beside Basil.

"Oh, thank heaven, Basil! Where have you been, my boy? You're soaked to the skin! Look, you look like you fell into a river... shoes and all! Didn't you see it started to rain? You're going to get pneumonia! And don't look at me like that, you'll never take away the scare you gave me, okay?"

The hands of Basil's grandma are wringing anxiously as she surveys her grandson's soaked state. Her gray hair is pulled back in a bun, her face lined with worry. The room behind her is warm and cozy, a pot of something savory simmering on the stove.

Basil shuffles inside, his shoes squeaking on the wooden floor. He keeps his gaze lowered, his fingers twisting together. "I'm sorry, Grandma. I... I was looking for Sunny."

At this, his grandmother's expression softens but she's still mad at him. She reaches out, squeezing his shoulder gently. "What if something happened to you? Tell me! Who's going to tell me? No one! Because of course, old people only worry about nothing, right? Look how soaked your friends are from coming to find you. Aren't you ashamed?"

Basil's shoulders slump further, his fingers working at the hem of his now wet sweater vest. He risks a glance at Aubrey, then Kel, who both shrug awkwardly. "I... I just wanted to find Sunny," he murmurs, voice small.

His grandmother sighs, shaking her head but no longer exasperated. She steps back and gestures toward the kitchen. "Alright, alright. Go change into something dry, all of you. Basil, lend them clothes. I'll put some tea on." She turns toward the stove, muttering to herself. "And don't think this means you're off the hook, young man."

Basil shuffles toward his room, motioning for Aubrey and Kel to follow.

Basil's bedroom is small but neat, his bed made with precision, the single window overlooking the backyard where his rose bushes bloom. The walls are lined with framed photographs, some of them taken by him, others given to him by friends. His prized Polaroid sits on the dresser, along with a half-filled album of pictures he's collected over the years.

Basil pulls open a drawer and hands Aubrey a soft sweater that still smells faintly of fabric softener. "Here," he says quietly. "You can borrow this." He doesn't look at her directly, his gaze flickering between Kel and the floor.

Without asking permission and with all the confidence in the world Kel grabs a dark blue shirt from the drawer. "Thanks, man," he says easily, tugging the sleeves down over his arms. His damp clothes sit in a pile on the floor, a small lake forming beneath them.

Aubrey takes the sweater Basil offers, her face showing no reaction as she goes to the bathroom to change, when she came out, the oversized fabric was swallowing her small frame. She rolls up the sleeves with quick, practiced motions.

"Why do you have something so big in your closet? It wouldn't even fit you."

Basil's ears redden slightly at Aubrey's comment. He hesitates before answering, his fingers twitching at his sides. "It's... mine, actually. Well, it'll be mine when I grow up enough, that's what my grandma said when she bought it." He turns away, busying himself with straightening a photograph on his dresser.

...

Once dry with the help of many towels, the children settle in the living room while drinking tea and watching TV.

Basil keeps glancing at Aubrey, clearly embarrassed by what he said earlier, and tries to work up the courage to apologize.

"Aubrey... I... are you still mad?"

"Are you still an idiot?"

Basil flinches, his fingers tightening around the steaming mug in his hands. "I... I didn't mean it like that, Aubrey. I just..." He hesitates, swallowing hard. "I know you care about him too."

Aubrey shifts in her seat, pulling the oversized sweater tighter around herself. She doesn't look at him. "Yeah. I do. And I don't get why you had to make it sound like I was the one who abandoned him."
"I didn't..." Basil stops himself, exhaling sharply through his nose. His grip on the mug tightens further. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

Awkward silence

"I... I was just letting off steam, I don't even know what I yelled... When... that night when Sunny disappeared... I grabbed him, at his house, I grabbed him and... I told him... I tried to make him stay with me... I couldn't... I felt useless at that moment... and when they declared him missing... I... I felt like useless garbage who couldn't do something as simple as calm his friend down."

Aubrey's fingers tighten around her own mug as she listens, her brows drawing together in a small frown. She doesn't look at Basil immediately, instead focusing on the steam rising from her tea. When she finally meets his gaze, her eyes are softer than before, but no less intense.

"You're being too hard on yourself." Her words are quiet but firm. "We all felt... like that. Kel was crying, I was shaking... and I wanted to do something too. But you're wrong about one thing."

Basil swallows hard, his grip on the mug loosening just slightly as he watches her. "What?"

"We also felt like we didn't do enough when we could have. He confessed his problems with the recital to me several times, and I did nothing."

Kel joins the conversation "I... I literally made him have a panic attack when I forced him to explore the abandoned house"

Aubrey lets out a slow breath. She turns to look at him properly now, her brows drawn together in a concerned frown.

"He told me," she says, her words quieter now but still steady. "He said you were joking around like usual... and then when you started to go into the wardrobe, he froze up. But you didn't see it, did you?"

Kel shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes dropping to the tabletop. "I... I didn't mean to... I just thought it'd be fun."

Basil exhales a tiny laugh, shaking his head. "That's Kel for you."

Aubrey smiles for a moment, but her smile falls instantly. She begins to cry. "He was always there to help me with my family problems. He gave me money when I didn't have any, he invited me to his house for dinner when I told him my parents were fighting, he even gave me one of his stuffed animals when I told him I feel lonely in my house."

Basil watches Aubrey intently as tears roll down her face, his face reflecting both distress and understanding. He reaches out hesitantly, as if unsure how to comfort her.

"He... he didn't tell me any of that," Kel says, his usual cheerful tone subdued. "I mean, I knew you guys talked, but... I didn't know your situation was... he helped you so much..."

Aubrey wipes at her face quickly, then looks up at both of them with red-rimmed eyes. "I think... I think he helps everyone like that. Because he needs it. But nobody helps him back." She pauses, swallowing hard.

Suddenly, Kel grabs them both in a bear hug. Needless to say anything, the three of them start crying in each other's arms.

The three of them remain locked in the embrace for what feels like an eternity, tears soaking into each other's clothes. The pain they've kept bottled up inside spills out in silent sobs and shuddering breaths.

...

Aubrey pulls back first, sniffing loudly as she wipes at her face with her sleeve. "We should... Let's promise each other something... we'll keep looking for Sunny every chance we get, but we'll also be there for each other, okay?"

Basil nods immediately, his breathing still uneven as he watches Aubrey. Kel rubs at his face with both hands, smearing his tears across his skin before looking at both of them with red-rimmed eyes.

"Yeah," he says hoarsely. "We gotta do whatever we can. And..." He looks at Aubrey, his usual courage subdued. "I'm sorry I didn't pay more attention to what you were going through. I shoulda been there for you too."

Aubrey sniffles again, forcing a weak smile. "It's okay. I..."

"No," Kel interrupts her, "You don't have to keep your problems to yourself. We're friends. We support each other in any way we can... If you want, you can come over to our houses for lunch or sleep, right Basil?"

Basil doesn't hesitate. "Yeah, of course. You can stay at my place anytime, my grandma loves you."

Aubrey exhales shakily, a slight quiver in her words as she speaks. "Thanks... I really appreciate it." She looks down before adding, "I just... I don't want to be alone right now."

The three of them stand there in silence for a long moment.

They will not be alone, it is a promise

Chapter Text

Later that night

The rain had begun to subside. Hero was putting the finishing touches on his homework. It was finished, but he needed something to distract himself.

The numbers blurring together as his mind wandered again, back to Sunny.

You should’ve been there. You should’ve noticed. You were supposed to take care of him. You were literally his caretaker, you literally saw how Mari exploded from stress and how this affected Sunny.

Hero clenches his jaw, the words echoing in his head. He knew it was true. He had been so caught up in his own worries, about Mari's stress, about his own parents' expectations, he hadn't been paying enough attention to the people he loves the most.

He gripped his pencil tighter, jaw clenched. It wasn’t the first time guilt visited like this, uninvited and persistent. He’d tried everything today, helping with the search, asking people, printing more posters...

When he could no longer do anything related to the search for Sunny, he would try to distract himself with mundane tasks like cleaning, homework, even baking, but nothing could push away the ache.

Maybe his parents were right, he should pursue a career like medicine, that way he would be more helpful than cooking.

Sunny was out there somewhere, probably hungry and scared... And Hero had failed him.

A door could be heard downstairs. The sound was followed by raised voices.

“Kelsey Herrera!” his mother shouted. “Look at the time... You’re soaked! Why would you walk in the rain like that?! Look at your shoes, mud everywhere! Take them off and leave them outside to clean them!”

"I..." Kel started, but she cut him off.

"No excuses! Why can't you be more like your brother? Hero's responsible. He helps around the house all day!"

Hero winced. He hated when she did that. Kel wasn't him. He never should be. He loves how Kel is already.

But he can't blame her entirely, lately all the parents in the area are more overprotective than usual once the news about Sunny spread.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs, and Kel burst into the room, dripping and sullen, his droplets leaving a trail on the carpet. He flopped onto his bed with a wet thump.

“You okay?” Hero asked quietly, turning in his chair.

Kel let out a groan into the blanket. “She didn’t even let me explain. I was helping Aubrey and Basil and the rain caught us. He lend me some clothes but I needed to come back and the rain started again. I think I should wash these clothes before returning them, right?”

Hero laugh a little because of this question, setting his pencil down. He could hear the faint sound of his mother still fussing downstairs, though Kel had closed the door behind him.

His brother was soaked, his hair plastered to his forehead, his shirt clinging to his skin. He looked exhausted.

"You should've called," Hero said, standing up. He grabbed a towel from the closet and tossed it to Kel. "You know she worries."

Kel caught it with a grunt, rubbing it over his head. "I know. But... I had to help. They were really... upset."

Hero nodded, understanding immediately. He'd seen Aubrey and Basil earlier, their faces were... different.

Kel began changing into clean, dry clothes. "Everything turned out okay in the end, it was... good. There's something about Aubrey I should tell you, but I'll do it tomorrow when things are... calmer?"

Hero paused, glancing at Kel with curiosity. He'd never heard Kel speak like that before, hesitant, careful. It wasn't like him to hold back on something. Usually, Kel just blurted things out without thinking.

"Okay," Hero said, sitting back down at his desk. He turned his chair slightly to face Kel. "But if it's important, you can tell me now."

Kel had pulled on a fresh shirt, but he was still rubbing the towel through his hair, avoiding Hero's eyes. "It's just... Aubrey's been going through a lot. I mean, we all have, but... I think she's been keeping stuff from us."

Hero frowned. "Like what?"

"I don't... feel comfortable telling you right now... it's something... I have to think about the way to tell you this... Let's talk about other things, how did it go with Mari today?"

Kel...

"It was... okay," Hero said, exhaling slowly. "Mari's... I tried to help her but... you know how she is lately..." A sad expression appears on his face. "She's not taking that much... But I think I made a big progress today." Hero's face changes to a happy one.

Kel nodded, finally meeting Hero's eyes.

The memory of that same day was still fresh in his mind.

...

The day was... sunny... open sky with some warmth, who would have thought it would bring torrential rain later. 

He knocked on the door of Sunny and Mari's house. A while passed, Hero would have thought that there was no one home if it weren't for the car parked in front of the house.

A figure that he would never have sworn to see so careless opened the door for him, it was Mari and Sunny's father.

Hero stiffened as the man's gaze fell upon him. Standing face to face with Mari's father... he felt an immediate discomfort. The man's face was stern, his posture rigid. His suit, once immaculate, was now unkempt.

"Hero," he said, his tone measured but cold. "What are you doing here?"

Hero swallowed. "I... I came to see Mari."

The man's lips pressed into a thin line. He stepped aside just enough to let Hero in, but not warmly. "Mari wants to be alone lately... she doesn't come out of her room except to eat or go to the bathroom..." he said, closing the door behind Hero with a quiet click.

Once inside, Hero was shocked. The once friendly Suzuki home now looked dark and dilapidated. Upon seeing the couch, he realized something, Mari and Sunny's father was drunk, dozens of beer cans adorned the furniture. It was incredible that, even drunk, the man remained upright and spoke normally.

Hero stood frozen, his stomach twisting as he took in the scene. The living room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn tight despite the late afternoon sun outside. The air was heavy with the sour smell of stale beer and sweat.

Mari's father stood rigidly in the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back as if he were still at work.

"Mari is upstairs," he said, voice flat. "She hasn't left her room since... since that day... or when I'm not here" His jaw clenched slightly, the only sign of emotion breaking through his rigid control.

Hero nodded, unable to speak. He stepped forward cautiously, as if afraid to disturb the fragile atmosphere.

"Hero" that call made the young man stop in his tracks, he was nervous "I'm a bad father, aren't I?"

Shitshitshit

Hero froze, his hand halfway to the staircase railing. The words hung in the air like a guillotine blade suspended above his neck. He turned slowly, his stomach twisting as he met Mari's father's gaze.

"I... I don't know what you mean," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man let out a short, humorless laugh. "Don't play dumb, boy."

He stepped closer, the alcohol on his breath thick in the air. "You think I don't see how you look at me? How you act around me?" His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "You're terrified of me."

Hero's throat went dry. He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the railing. The man's words hit like a slap, but there was something in his tone, something almost... tired.

Hero forced himself to meet his gaze, though his heart hammered against his ribs.

"I'm not afraid of you, sir" he said, but even to his own ears, it sounded weak.

Mari's father let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. "You should be."

He turned away, moving toward the kitchen. "Apparently, I ruin every life I touch... Mari... she hates me... she hasn't said anything to me in days, but... I can feel it... my wife... I haven't seen her in... she only works... she overloads herself with more work every day... she says it's to support us, but I know it's so she doesn't have to be here... My son..."

Hero followed him hesitantly. Hero feels like he's stepping on eggshells.

"I know what you're asking with that look of yours, why isn't this old man working? Why is he here bothering me?... Well... at work everyone was offering their condolences... as if my son was dead... I couldn't stand being reminded of... I punched someone... HR is making me take my days off..."

The kitchen was dimly lit, the counters cluttered with empty beer bottles and half-eaten takeout containers.

Mari's father stood at the sink, staring out the window into the backyard where the old tree creaked in the evening breeze. His hands gripped the edge of the counter.

"You're a good boy, Hero," he said, voice rough. "Please forget everything I once had said when I saw you two together, you are a good boy for my little girl... Mari... she deserves someone like you... someone who... who actually cares about her... unlike me... I don't know how to do this... I don't know how to be... what she needs... what anyone needs..." He paused, swallowing hard. "You... you make her happy... I can see that... and I'm..."

Mr. Suzuki put his hand on Hero's shoulder, looking like he wanted to say something else... but he just looked at him... and collapsed on the floor. Hero let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

Hero kneels beside Mr. Suzuki, his heart pounding. The older man's breathing is ragged, his face pale in the dim kitchen light. His hand twitches slightly as he lies there, eyes closed.

"You... Are you okay?" Hero says. He hesitates for a moment before gently shaking Mr. Suzuki's shoulder. "Mr. Suzuki? Can you hear me?"

Mari's father doesn't respond at first, but after a few seconds, his eyelids flutter open. His gaze is unfocused, distant. "Hero...?" he murmurs, voice weak.

"Yes, it's me," Hero replies, relief flooding through him.

"What are you still doing here?"

Hero felt that talking to him in that state would be... He'd better go see Mari.

Hero hesitates for a moment longer, then stands. Mr. Suzuki's breathing steadies slightly, but his eyes remain closed. The kitchen feels smaller somehow. He steps back quietly, his shoes making almost no sound on the linoleum.

...

Upstairs, Mari's door is ajar. Hero knocks softly. "Mari? It's me."

No immediate response. He waits a few seconds before pushing the door open just enough to peek inside. Mari sits on the edge of her bed, back to him, shoulders hunched. Her long black hair falls forward, partially obscuring her face.

"Mari?" he says again, stepping inside.

Mari doesn't turn around immediately. Her fingers clutch at the edge of her bedspread, knuckles white. When she finally speaks, her words come out strained. "You shouldn't be here."

Hero closes the door behind him and moves closer. "Your dad... he collapsed downstairs."

Mari stiffens. For a moment, she doesn't move at all. Then she exhales sharply and turns her head just enough to glance at him over her shoulder. "He's fine," she says, but there's no conviction in it.

"He's breathing," Hero clarifies. "But he..."

Mari closes her eyes briefly, then pushes herself up from the bed. She walks past him, not meeting his gaze.

Hero watches as Mari moves toward the door, her steps slow but purposeful. She hesitates at the threshold, one hand gripping the doorframe. Her fingers tremble slightly.

"He's always fine," she mutters, more to herself than to Hero. Then, louder, "You should go home."

Hero doesn't move. "Mari..."

"Please don't waste your time on me." she cuts him off, finally turning to face him. Her face is tight, controlled, but her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "I don't need you to see this."

Hero steps closer, careful. "All I see is the most beautiful girl in the world going through a horrible time."

Mari flinches, just slightly. She looks away, biting her lip.

Mari's breath shudders as she exhales, her fingers tightening around the doorframe. She doesn't turn to face Hero fully, but she doesn't push him away either. Her shoulders rise and fall with the slow, measured breaths she's forcing herself to take.

"You shouldn't say things like that," she murmurs.

Hero steps closer, careful not to crowd her. He can see the way her jaw clenches, the way her fingers dig into the wood as if holding onto something solid might steady her.

"Why not?" he asks quietly. "Because it's true?"

Mari shakes her head, but it's a weak motion, almost imperceptible.

"Because I... I caused all of this... it's my fault that everyone suffers... it's my fault that Sunny..." Tears start forming on her face. "I can't even help looking for him... I'm not a good sister, I'm not a good friend, you... maybe you should look for someone else... someone who..."

Mari's words crack as she speaks, and she wipes hastily at her face, turning away from Hero as if she can hide the tears. Her shoulders tremble slightly, but she straightens them immediately, as if forcing herself to stand tall.

Hero doesn't let her pull away. He steps closer, careful not to touch her at first, but close enough that she can feel his presence.

"Mari," he says softly, "you're the best sister I've ever seen. You take care of Sunny more than anyone else does. You work so hard for him, for your family... for us."

Mari shakes her head again, but she doesn't argue this time.

His words press against her like a gentle hand on her back, steadying her when she feels like she might collapse under the weight of everything.

"You don't understand," she murmurs, her words thick with unshed tears. "I... I pushed him too hard. I always push him too hard. And now he's gone and I don't even know where he is and I can't... I can't fix it."

Hero moves closer. His breath stirs the air near her ear as he speaks.

"You can't fix everything, Mari," he says softly.

Mari shakes her head, but it's a weak motion, almost involuntary. "I should have been there," she whispers. "I should have been watching him. I should have..."

Hero finally reaches out, his hand hovering near her arm before gently settling on her wrist.

Hero's touch is warm and steady, a gentle anchor in the storm of Mari's emotions. "Mari... You're human."

Mari's fingers flex against the doorframe, her knuckles white with the effort of holding herself together.

"But I'm supposed to be..." she says, her words laced with a bitter edge. "I'm supposed to be perfect. For him. For my parents. For everyone."

Hero's thumb traces small circles on her wrist, a soothing gesture. "You don't have to be perfect, Mari. You just have to be you."

Hero's hand slides up her arm, his fingers curling gently around her elbow. "Don't put all that weight on yourself... I also take responsibility for what happened..." he says, speaking softly but firmly.

"We’re the older siblings… and that means it’s on us to keep going... for them. To keep trying, to keep searching, to hold things together the best we can. We have to protect what’s left of our little group, so that when Sunny comes back, he won’t return to something shattered. He’ll come back to a home that still remembers him and will care for him"

Mari's breath catches at Hero's words. She turns to face him completely, her face a map of conflicting emotions, fear, guilt, and a glimmer of hope that she's trying hard to hold onto.

"I... I don't know if I can do that," she admits, her words wavering. "I don't know if I can be strong enough." Hero's hand moves to cup her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that has escaped.

"You don't have to be strong all the time, Mari. You just have to keep going, one step at a time... Together... For him..."

Chapter Text

Darkness...

...

That was all he felt around him... darkness...

...

But for a moment... a small, happy moment... his mind took him to his Headspace, his safe place where he could live carefree adventures with his friends all day long.

The world around him was a mix of shapes, colors, animals, people, creatures... Nothing in that world would make sense to anyone but him, but that didn't matter because all those things were his memories or pieces of them. 

But all good things come to an end, he knew that quite well already. That bright world faded like a dream as he returned from what felt like years of sleep. Then, slowly, his vision cleared.

...

He was lying on a soft bed, surrounded by plush pillows and blankets in deep, rich colors. The room was dimly lit by a single candle, casting flickering shadows across the walls. It smelled of something sweet, vanilla and cinnamon, like Mari's pastries.

He tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy, sluggish. His head ached, and his throat was dry. 

The bedding shifts beneath him as he tries to move, the soft fabric rustling in the quiet room. His fingers curl into the sheets, gripping them as he forces himself upright.

The world tilts slightly, his vision blurring for a moment before steadying. He blinks, trying to focus on the details of the unfamiliar space.

The walls are lined with shelves, each one packed with books and trinkets, some wooden, some glass, some glowing faintly in the candlelight.

A small table beside the bed holds a pitcher of water and a delicate teacup. He reaches for the pitcher, his hands shaking slightly as he pours himself a drink.

What had happened to him? Why did he feel like he'd fallen off a...?

Oh... yeah... now he remembered.

Sunny looks down at his hands, still clutching the teacup. His fingers tremble slightly as he brings it to his lips, the cool water soothing his dry throat. He swallows slowly, trying to push down the lump forming there. The candlelight flickers, casting shifting shadows across the room.

Where was he? That place didn't look like a hospital, it looked more like a library or a cabin... a strange mix of the two.

A cabbrary...

What a stupid name...

The thought makes him smile weakly, though it doesn't last long. He sets the teacup down with a soft clink and looks around again.

Some of the books are old, their covers worn and cracked, while others look newer, their spines crisp and untouched. There are small wooden figurines of animals, rabbits, foxes, birds, arranged neatly on a shelf near the bed. A few small glass bottles catch the candlelight, their contents swirling in soft colors.

...

Sunny jumped in fear as he saw the door suddenly open. A man, possibly in his 30's, walked in. The two stared at each other in silence, the man's neutral expression didn't change.

"Vecla! The boy you kidnapped has woken up!" the mysterious man shouted.

Sunny flinches at the sudden voice, he curls back into the sheets as the man steps closer. His heart pounds in his chest, the rhythmic thudding loud in his ears. The man's face remains unreadable, but his eyes, dark and intense, study Sunny with an unsettling focus.

"Would you say you feel good overall? Are there any missing pieces?" the man asks, voice calm but firm.

He kneels beside the bed, bringing his face level with Sunny's. The candlelight catches the sharp angles of his face, making him look almost spectral in the dim glow.

Sunny swallows hard, his throat dry again. His gaze darts to the door, then back to the man.

The man doesn't move, doesn't blink. He just waits, watching Sunny with that same unreadable expression. The silence stretches between them, thick and suffocating. Sunny's fingers tighten around the sheets.

"I... I don't know," he finally whispers. His voice sounds strange to his own ears, small, fragile. He clears his throat, trying to sound stronger.

The man hums softly, tilting his head slightly. "Maybe you messed up your brain a bit, hehehe"

He reaches out, and Sunny instinctively recoils, pressing himself back against the headboard.

An elderly woman enters the room, seemingly in a hurry. "Don't bother him, John. You always scare the children." The woman hits the man on the back of the head.

John rubs the back of his head with a small chuckle, but his eyes remain fixed on Sunny.

"I don't scare him. I just ask questions." He turns back to Sunny. "It's what we do before we eat the children who ignore their parents and get lost in the woods, muahahahaha" 

The man receives another blow, now with a cane.

The elderly woman steps closer, her face lined with concern. "Don't pay attention to this idiot, you're not kidnapped and we're not going to hurt you. You poor thing" she murmurs, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Sunny's forehead.

Her touch is warm and gentle, and Sunny instinctively leans into it, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

"You must be hungry," she says. "Would you like something to eat?"

Sunny nods hesitantly.

"John, bring the food!"

"But we only have two plates."

"You bring it to the kid first, and then you eat when he's finished. That's what you get for being a clown."

The elderly woman's stern voice echoes through the room, and John reluctantly nods, disappearing through the door.

The woman turns back to Sunny, her lined face softening as she smiles. "My name is Vecla, Vecla Mulier, but you can call me Grandma. I run this place. Don't worry, you're safe here."

Sunny nods again. He's not sure if he believes her, but he doesn't have much choice. His stomach growls loudly, reminding him of his hunger.

Vecla chuckles softly at the sound of Sunny's stomach. "Oh, that's a good sign. Means you're alive, and that's always a good thing."

She gestures to a small wooden table in the corner of the next room. "Sit down, dear. John will bring the food soon."

Sunny hesitates for a moment before shuffling over to the table. The chair creaks as he sits, his hands fidgeting in his lap. The room smells of old paper and something sweet, cinnamon, maybe. It's warm here, and the flickering light from the fireplace casts dancing shadows on the walls lined with books.

Vecla moves to the counter and pours something into a small cup.

"And what would your name be, little one?"

Sunny shifts in his seat, fingers twisting together. He looks down at the table, tracing the grain of the wood with his eyes. "Sunny," he mumbles.

Vecla hums softly as she stirs the contents of the cup. "Sunny," she repeats, testing the name. "That's a nice name." She brings the cup over and sets it in front of him. "It's just tea, nothing special. But it'll warm you up."

Sunny nods, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic. The steam rises, carrying the aroma of chamomile and honey. He takes a small sip, the heat spreading through his chest.

Shortly after finishing his tea, he notices the sound of someone approaching.

It's John, who brings two bowls of soup and places them on the table. 

"Hope you choke."

Sunny looks at him fearfully.

"Oh no... it wasn't for you" He whispers in his ear "It was for the ancient mummy."

John chuckles darkly, his eyes never leaving Sunny's face. "Eat up, kid. Can't have you dying on us now, can we?" He turns to leave, pausing at the door. "And kid? Don't even think about running. The forest is full of things that'll eat you alive." With that ominous warning, he's gone, leaving Sunny alone with Vecla and the steaming bowls of soup.

Vecla sits across from Sunny, her face softening as she watches him. "Don't mind John. He's got a way with words, that one." She gestures to the bowl. "Go on, eat. You need your strength."

Sunny hesitates, fingers hovering over the spoon. The soup smells rich and hearty, but his stomach twists at the thought of eating.

He glances at the door where John disappeared, then back to Vecla. She watches him with patient understanding, as if she's seen this hesitation before.

"John's... not wrong," Sunny says quietly, finally picking up the spoon. He stirs the soup, watching the steam curl up. "The forest is dangerous." He speaks softly, barely audible. "I know."

Vecla tilts her head slightly. "Unfortunately yes, but not for us... you'll understand later, now eat." She doesn't sound surprised. She start eating her soup.

Sunny dips the spoon into the soup, the liquid thick with vegetables and what smells like beef. He brings it to his mouth and sips carefully. The heat spreads through him, warming his insides.

It's good, richer than anything he's had in a long time. He takes another bite, then another, the hollow feeling in his stomach beginning to ease.

Vecla watches him with quiet satisfaction. "Good," she murmurs. "You were hungry, weren't you?" She smiles, her wrinkled face softening. "Well, anyone would be that hungry if they were bedridden for almost two weeks."

Sunny nearly choked upon hearing this.

"Two weeks!?" Sunny speaks hoarsely, his spoon clattering against the bowl as he lowers it. His hands tremble slightly. "I've been here for two weeks?"

Vecla nods, taking another sip of her soup. "Mmhmm. You were feverish for a while. Caught a nasty cold, poor thing... and some broken bones" It seemed that she rushed into saying this last thing, almost wanting Sunny not to take it too seriously.

Sunny's mind races.

Two weeks. He had been gone for two weeks. His parents must be frantic. Mari must be worried sick. He's really quite careless... he doesn't deserve his family... he doesn't deserve his friends...

Vecla notices the shift in Sunny's demeanor, the way his fingers tighten around the spoon until his knuckles turn white. She sets her own bowl down with a soft clink and leans forward slightly, studying him with an expression that's not quite pity but something close.

"You're thinking about them, aren't you?" she asks gently. "Your family."

Sunny swallows hard, forcing himself to take another bite of soup even though his appetite has vanished. The vegetables taste like ash in his mouth now. He nods once, sharply.

"They must hate me," he murmurs. "I've never been gone this long before."

Vecla hums thoughtfully. "Hate is a strong word," she says.

"I... I did something horrible before I escaped... I don't think they'll welcome me with open arms."

Vecla's face softens, but not in the way Sunny expects. There's no pity in her expression, just a knowing sadness that makes his stomach twist. She reaches across the table and places her hand over his, her fingers warm against his cold skin.

"Sweet boy," she says softly. "You're thinking too much."

Sunny flinches slightly at the contact, but doesn't pull away. He stares down at their joined hands, at how small his fingers look beneath hers.

He doesn't deserve her kindness. He doesn't deserve anyone's kindness. He's just an ungrateful brat.

"I ruined everything," he murmurs. "I ruined the recital. I ruined my violin. I ruined my family's name."

Vecla's grip on his hand tightens ever so slightly, her thumb making small, soothing circles on his skin.

"You didn't ruin anything, Sunny. You're just a child, and children make mistakes." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Sometimes, the things we think we've ruined... they're not as broken as we believe."

Sunny raises his gaze to meet Vecla's, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "But what if I did? What if I really did ruin everything?" His words crack, betraying the depth of his despair. "What if I'm just a disappointment to everyone?"

Vecla's face sets in a firm line, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Look, let's do this. You're going to spend some time here recovering. That'll give you time to think about your decisions. Does that sound okay to you?"

Sunny nods slowly, his fingers still curled beneath Vecla's warm hand. He wants to believe her words, but they feel hollow against the crushing weight in his chest.

He ruined everything. He knows it. His family knows it. His friends know it.

"Okay," he murmurs, speaking softly. "But... I don't deserve this."

Vecla's grip tightens slightly, her fingers squeezing his in reassurance. "Deserve has nothing to do with it, Sunny. You're here because I want you to be here." She pauses, studying his face. "And because I think you need it."

Sunny swallows hard, his throat tight.

"This is the place people come to when they don't feel welcome. It's the place to hide from those who pursue what's different."

She stands ominously, her tone changing to a more powerful, speech-like one. "This is the home of nature's true power, the epitome of evolutionary power."

Vecla's words hang in the air, thick with meaning. The dim glow of the lanterns flickers against the wooden walls, casting long, dancing shadows across the room.

Sunny's fingers tighten around Vecla's hand, his pulse quickening as he absorbs her words.

She stands up and walks toward the window covered by a large, heavy curtain.

Sunny pales as he watches branch-like limbs sprout from her body. They are a very dark purple and extend, making Vecla appear larger and larger.

The limbs twist and curl, stretching toward the ceiling like grasping vines, each one ending in a small, gnarled hand.

Vecla's form grows taller, her silhouette darkening the room as she towers above Sunny. The wood creaks beneath her feet as she moves, the sound unnatural and heavy.

Sunny shrinks back against the chair, his breath coming in short gasps. His fingers clutch at the table. The air feels thick, charged with something he can't name. His heart pounds so hard he's sure Vecla must hear it.

"You are afraid," Vecla says, her words echoing slightly in the suddenly vast space. "Don't be. For you are where the mother of all intended you to be. You are a gift to us. Welcome, my child..."

The gnarled hands stretch toward Sunny, their movement slow and deliberate. He presses himself against the chair, his breathing shallow.

The air feels heavy, charged with something ancient and powerful. Vecla's form looms above him, her face now obscured by the mass of twisting limbs.

"You are afraid," she repeats, her words carrying an echo that makes Sunny's skin prickle. "But you need not be. You are here because you belong here. Because the forest calls to you."

Sunny swallows hard, his throat dry. He wants to speak, but the words won't come. His fingers dig into the wooden arms of the chair, his knuckles white.

Vecla opens the curtains as if they weighed nothing, and a beam of light conquers the darkness of the room. "Welcome to the community."

The light spills into the room, revealing Vecla's true form. Her body is no longer just a woman, it is a living thing, a being of wood and vine. The limbs that sprouted from her back now stretch toward the ceiling, their gnarled fingers brushing against the beams.

Her skin is smooth and pale, like the bark of an ancient tree, but her face remains unchanged, gentle and warm despite the monstrous shape she now wears.

Sunny stares outside. Vecla watches him, her head tilted slightly. "You see it now," she says softly. "The world beyond the world. The place where those who are different belong." She gestures toward the window.

Sunny blinks rapidly, his vision swimming as he stares at the impossible sight outside.

The town is eerily familiar, there's a plaza, a playground, even a church, but everything is wrong. People walk the streets, but their bodies are distorted, elongated, covered in fur or feathers or scales.

A woman with antlers carries a basket of groceries. A man with webbed fingers tosses a ball to a child with a fox's tail. It's like a dream, but Sunny feels awake, every nerve alight with the wrongness of it all.

This of course has to be a dream... right?

Chapter Text

Uneasy or fearful were an understatement to describe what he felt right now. Vecla had invited him to get to know the community a little closer. He didn't have the courage to say no after seeing her true form.

Sunny's heart pounds as he steps out of Vecla's house, his eyes darting around the bustling street.

The community is alive with activity, but it's unlike anything he's ever seen. Creatures of all shapes and sizes move about, their forms blending human and animal characteristics.

A woman with wings flutters past, while a man with long ears and a tail hurries by, clutching a briefcase.

He spots a group of children playing tag, their bodies covered in soft fur and adorned with animal ears. They giggle and chase each other, seemingly oblivious to Sunny's presence.

However, he couldn't enjoy this benefit for long. He soon felt everyone's eyes on him. He could hear them whispering and pointing at him.

Sunny's face burns with embarrassment as he realizes he's the only one here who looks completely human... well, besides Vecla, but she has already proven to be more than what her exterior appears to be. 

He wraps his arms around himself, trying to make himself smaller, to disappear into the crowd. But no matter which way he turns, he can't escape the stares and whispers.

Vecla approaches him. "Don't mind them, dear. They're just curious. It's not often we get a new face around here, especially one as... You know, hehe"

Sunny shrinks further into himself, his fingers digging into his sweater vest as Vecla's laughter echoes around him.

Vecla pats his shoulder, her touch gentle but firm. "Come along now, Sunny. Let's introduce you to your saviors."

She guides him down the street, her presence shielding him from the worst of the stares. Sunny keeps his head down, his ears burning. Every step feels like an eternity, every breath harder than the last.

In a short time, they both arrive at a clinic, its appearance is quite modern compared to Vecla's house.

The clinic's interior is stark white, with modern medical equipment lining the walls. A woman with, normal appearance?, sits at the front desk, her fingers flying across a keyboard as she types. She glances up as Vecla and Sunny enter, her face lighting up with recognition.

"Ah, Vecla! I was wondering when you'd bring him by." She stands, showing that her arms are much longer and thinner than normal "I'm Dr. Celia. It's a pleasure to meet you, mysterious kid." Her smile is warm and genuine, but Sunny can't help but notice the way her arms cast strange shadows on the wall behind her.

"Good morning Celia, this little boy just woke up today, his name is Sunny" Vecla approaches to whisper to Celia "he's still in shock from knowing that he was in bed for two weeks, but I think seeing our... peculiarities made him forget a little"

Dr. Celia's smile widens, her long fingers folding together as she leans forward on the desk. "Oh, I see. Well, don't worry, Sunny. You're among friends here."

She gestures to the waiting area behind her. "We're all... a little different. But that's what makes us special, don't you think?"

Sunny doesn't answer. He just nods stiffly, his hands still clutching at his sweater vest. The room feels too bright, too clean, too sterile. It reminds him of the hospital where Mari took him after the accident at the lake.

"You know where MR is? I want Sunny to meet the doctor who saved his life."

Dr. Celia nods, her long fingers curling into a gesture that looks almost like a spider's legs. "Of course. Right this way."

She turns, her movements unnaturally smooth, and leads them down a pristine hallway lined with closed doors. The walls are white, the floors polished to a high shine, but something about the place unsettles Sunny. It's too quiet. Too still.

They stop at a door marked "Gardener's balcony." Dr. Celia knocks twice, then pushes it open without waiting for a response.

Inside, a woman stands alone. She's wearing a white coat, but her posture is relaxed, almost lazy. She's is watering some flowers... those purple flowers... He recognizes those. 

The woman turns at the sound of the door opening, and Sunny's breath catches in his throat. Her face lights up when she sees Sunny, and she sets the watering can down with a soft clink.

"Well, well, well... look who's awake!" Her voice is warm, but there's something oddly formal about it, like she's reciting a script she's said many times before.

She approaches, her white coat fluttering slightly as she moves. "It's good to finally present myself to the mysterious lost boy. I'm Dr. MR. I'm so glad to finally meet you properly."

Vecla's grip on Sunny's shoulder tightens slightly. "Sunny, Dr. MR is the one who heal you."

Dr. MR's smile doesn't waver as she steps closer, her white coat swishing softly.

"Indeed. But I'm not the one who found you and brought you here, I just nursed you back to health, with my team of course. It's a pleasure to finally meet you properly Sunny."

Her words are laced with an undercurrent of something... perhaps pride, or satisfaction. "I've been looking forward to this moment for quite some time."

The silence between them is quite awkward. It's clear she was expecting someone more talkative. Sunny's gaze falls on the purple flowers. "Those... those flowers... they're the same ones that made me hallucinate and get lost in the forest."

Dr. MR's smile falters for a moment, her eyes flickering to the flowers before returning to Sunny. "Ah, yes. The purple flowers. Quite fascinating, aren't they? But I assure you, they're perfectly safe here. We've done extensive research on them."

She moves closer, her presence filling the space. "You see, Sunny, those flowers have a remarkable ability to unlock parts of the mind that are usually hidden. Parts that can be quite... illuminating." Her words become more subdued, taking on a hypnotic quality. "I'm sure you've noticed how they made you feel."

She comes closer to the flowers.

"Technically, they're not flowers, they're mycelia of the mother mushroom that expel spores. Although it's a surprise that they grow so far from the community. Well, I've heard of a similar case before but..." Vecla looks at MR with some annoyance, MR understands the message and falls silent.

The purple mycelia pulse faintly in the dim light, their tendrils shifting almost imperceptibly. Sunny's breath catches as he watches them, his fingers twitching at his sides. He remembers the intoxicating scent, the way the world had warped around him when he'd inhaled too deeply.

Dr. MR tilts her head slightly, studying Sunny's reaction. "You don't need to be afraid of them now," she says softly. "They can't hurt you here. In fact, they can help you."

Sunny swallows hard. "Help me?" His voice is small, uncertain.

Vecla's grip on his shoulder tightens again, grounding him. "Yes, Sunny. Now that you're like us, the spores won't affect you as much, you'd have to eat them for them to have an effect, hehe."

MR was happy that Sunny was interacting with her a little more, but the boy's silence alerted her. Sunny was pale, as if he'd seen a ghost. 

"What... what do you mean I'm like you guys now?"

...

Oh no...

...

Vecla's grip on Sunny's shoulder loosens slightly as she exhales through her nose. "Well, Sunny, you see... when you got lost in the woods, you didn't just stumble around. You..." She hesitates, glancing at Dr. MR for confirmation. The woman nods encouragingly.

"You were on the verge of death when we rescued you." Vecla says bluntly. "You see, the mother mushroom the doctor was referring to is the reason for the qualities of our community, the mushroom genetically alters us and gives us abilities, and in extreme cases... it can also save... the only way for you to live was to become one of us... sorry little one."

Sunny's breath catches in his throat as he absorbs Vecla's words. The dim glow of the mycelia pulses in time with his racing heartbeat, their movement almost hypnotic in the quiet space.

He feels something inside him shift, not physically, but deep in his core, where he keeps all the things he doesn't want to think about.

"You mean... I'm not human anymore?" The words come out hoarse, barely audible.

Vecla's hand moves from his shoulder to his back, rubbing small circles. "You're still you, Sunny. Just... different now."

"But... but you said that... you gave me the choice to stay and heal or leave. Was that a lie?"

Vecla's face softens, her wooden features creasing with what appears to be genuine remorse. "No, Sunny. That wasn't a lie. You did have a choice. But the choice was between staying here and healing, or dying in the forest. We cannot risk the outside world to notice us, I... I'm really sorry"

Dr. MR steps forward, her face set in a stern expression. "Sunny, you were in critical condition when you were found. Your body was shutting down, and the forest was full of dangers. The mushroom was your only hope for survival."

Sunny's gaze drops to his hands.

His fingers twitch slightly as he stares at them, as if expecting them to look different now. They still look like his hands, small, with short nails, the same ones that had gripped the violin so tightly before it shattered. But Vecla's words echo in his mind, and suddenly everything feels foreign.

"I don't feel different," he murmurs, almost to himself. "I mean... I feel the same. Just tired."

Vecla kneels beside him, bringing her face level with his. Her wooden features seem more gentle now, the bark-like texture of her skin catching the dim light. "It takes time for the changes to settle. Your body is still adjusting."

Sunny felt nothing. For a moment, he thought he'd lost all his emotions. However, they were coming. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he remembered all the happy and sad moments he'd had with his friends and family.

All those moments... now they would mean nothing... because of his stupid decision to escape responsibility for his actions, he'd now condemned himself to never again seeing those he loved most. He really messed up...

Vecla watches Sunny's tears spill over, her fingers brushing away the first few drops before he can wipe them himself.

Her touch is warm despite her appearance, the texture of her skin is smooth. "You're crying," she observes softly.

Sunny swipes at his face with the back of his hand, sniffling. "I'm fine."

"You're not." Vecla's tone is gentle but firm. "It's okay to cry, Sunny."

He shakes his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "I just... I can't believe this is happening." His voice cracks on the last word, and he hates how weak he is.

Dr. MR seems to want to say something, her face showing regret and guilt, but she remains silent as Vecla hugs the poor boy whose life has just been completely taken away.

We really are monsters.

Chapter Text

The cold drops of ice cream slide down Sunny's hand as he just watches. He feels... he feels nothing.

The ice cream slowly drips onto the pavement, forming small puddles that catch the late afternoon light. Sunny doesn't move to wipe it away. He just stares at the melting treat, watching the way the colors swirl together, vanilla and chocolate.

"Sunny..." Vecla's voice is soft, careful. She sits beside him on the park bench, her fingers hovering near his wrist but not quite touching. "You... I know this can be quite... overwhelming...."

Sunny blinks, finally looking up at her. She's wearing the same gentle expression she always does, but there's something else there now.

"Look, I understand what you might be going through right now kid... that feeling of... losing everything."

Sunny doesn't respond, his eyes drifting back to the melting ice cream. The flavors are starting to run together now, creating a muddy brown pool on the concrete.

"Sunny, I know you're hurting right now, but you're not alone." Vecla's words are gentle, but they seem to echo in Sunny's mind. "I'm here for you, and so are everyone on this town."

Sunny shakes his head slightly. He whispers something to himself. "I wish you'd let me die."

Vecla inhales sharply, her hands curling slightly at her sides. She kneels beside Sunny, watching as he stares at the melting ice cream with vacant eyes.

"You don't mean that," Vecla says, though her words waver slightly. She reaches out, hesitating before gently placing her hand on Sunny's shoulder. He doesn't pull away, but he doesn't acknowledge her touch either.

"I do," Sunny murmurs. His fingers twitch, as if he wants to pick up the ice cream, but he doesn't. He just lets it melt. "I don't belong here."

Vecla's grip tightens slightly on Sunny's shoulder, her fingers pressing into the fabric of his sweater vest. Her face shifts, a flicker of something, sadness, maybe anger, crossing her features before she schools them back into gentle concern.

"You belong here more than you think," she says, her words quieter now. "You belong anywhere you want to be, Sunny."

Sunny exhales through his nose. His ice cream it's nearly gone now. He should feel something about that, sadness, frustration, regret, but he doesn't. He just feels... empty.

"I don't," he says again.

Vecla breathes a sigh of surrender. "Look, it doesn't matter anymore, what happened is over. We must focus on the present and what we're going to do from now on."

Sunny doesn't look at Vecla.

"I don't know what to do," he admits quietly. "I don't know what I want."

Vecla moves closer, her wooden fingers brushing against his wrist. "That's okay," she says. "You don't have to know right now."

Sunny's throat tightens. He wants to believe her.

"Believe in this. According to community rules, only members of legal age are allowed to leave the community under an oath of responsibility and loyalty. I know it's a long time, but it's an achievable goal. What do you say?"

Sunny's fingers twitch against the park bench, his eyes fixed on the now completely empty cone on his hand. Vecla's words hang in the air, but they don't settle in his chest the way he wants them to. He swallows hard, his throat dry.

"I don't know if I can wait that long," he says softly. "I don't know if I want to wait that long... But..."

Vecla's fingers gently grasp Sunny's chin, turning his face towards her.

"But what?" she asks, her words laced with encouragement and something else, perhaps hope or understanding. "What's stopping you from trying, Sunny? You're safe here. You're loved here. You don't have to face whatever's out there alone."

Sunny's gaze drops to Vecla's hand on his chin, then back to her face. He feels a lump forming in his throat, his chest tightening with emotions he can't quite name. He opens his mouth to speak.

"I'll... I can try"

Vecla's face breaks into a gentle smile, her fingers still cradling Sunny's chin. "That's all I ask, Sunny. Just try. The rest will come in time."

She releases his chin and stands, offering him a hand. "Come on. There are still a couple more people I want to introduce you to. You'll have to go to the school here, hehe."

Sunny grimaces in disgust. 

"What? You thought because we're isolated we don't have an education system?"

Sunny reluctantly takes Vecla's hand, standing up. He doesn't pull away.

"I just... I don't really like school," he mutters. The sun is lower now, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.

Vecla chuckles softly. "I don't think anyone does, Sunny. But it's necessary."

Sunny's brow furrows.

As they walk, Sunny's thoughts drift to his former home, to his old life and the people he left behind. He wonders if they're thinking of him, if they miss him at all.

Chapter Text

Vecla guides Sunny through the streets of the community, passing a few shops and friendly faces, though some stare at Sunny for a little too long for his liking. The air is filled with a strong scent of freshly baked bread and wood smoke, a rather friendly and familiar atmosphere, very different from what he would think of a community of... monsters?


I guess I shouldn't use that word.

They soon approach the school. A red brick building that, like the clinic, looks quite modern. It seemed like classes had already ended for the day, it was quite late.

Vecla pushes open the wooden door, and Sunny follows her inside. The hallway is lined with lockers, some of them adorned with hand-drawn pictures and scribbled notes. The floor is polished, reflecting the dim overhead lights. The place smells faintly of lemon floor cleaner.

"Here we are," Vecla says, turning to Sunny with a smile. "The school's not much different from the ones you're used to, I imagine. Just... with a few more interesting students." Sunny nods, glancing around.

The school feels eerily quiet, the silence presses against Sunny's ears, making him acutely aware of how alone he is in this unfamiliar place. He resists the urge to pull his sweater vest tighter around himself.

Vecla leads him down the hallway, past a bulletin board covered in colorful flyers. One of them catches Sunny's eye, a poster advertising a school recital. His stomach twists. Recitals. He doesn't want to think about them.

"We must enter here" Vecla says, stopping at a door marked as the Principal's Office. She knocks twice before opening it.

The office is small but cozy, with a large wooden desk covered in neatly stacked papers and a small bookshelf filled with worn textbooks. A flowerpot rests in the corner, its leaves swaying slightly as Vecla closes the door behind Sunny. Behind the desk sits a man with long, tangled white hair, messily tied back in a loose bun and adorned with what appear to be two feathery antennae. His face is difficult to read, though his sharp eyes convey a cold stare as he looks up from his work.

"Don't turn on the light," he says, putting down his pen. "Well, is this the kid? I heard so many students talking about him." His voice is cold and firm, like that of a tired teacher who has seen many students come and go. He gestures to the chair opposite him. "Please sit down."

Sunny hesitates before stepping forward. The chair creaks as he lowers himself into it, his posture stiff and uncertain. The principal's gaze remains fixed on him, sharp and assessing.

"Sunny," Vecla says gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. "This is Mr. Tin Bisselli. He's the principal here."

Mr. Bisselli lets out a dry chuckle. "That's not my real name, but it's close enough." He leans back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. "So, Sunny. You've been causing quite a stir around here. People are talking about you. Some say you are a curious fellow." He taps his fingers on the desk, the sound echoing in the small office. "Others say you're just a normal human kid. Which is it?"

Sunny's heart pounds in his chest, his palms growing sweaty as he tries to form a response. The principal's intense gaze makes him feel exposed, as if his very thoughts are laid bare. He opens his mouth to speak...

...but no words come out. The principal tilts his head slightly, watching him with an unreadable expression.

"Ah," he says after a moment. "A quiet one. I like that." He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "But I need to know what you think of yourself, Sunny. Not what others say. What do you think you are?" Sunny shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Mr. Bisselli's eyes remain locked onto Sunny's, unblinking and expectant. The office feels smaller now, the air thick with something unspoken. Sunny swallows hard, his throat dry. He doesn't know what to say. What he thinks of himself?

"I... I don't know," he finally manages, his voice small.

Mr. Bisselli exhales through his nose, a slow, measured sound. "That's a start," he says. "At least you're honest." He taps his fingers against the desk again, considering Sunny. "Tell me, Sunny, do you ever feel like you don't belong here?"

Sunny's breath catches. His fingers tighten around the fabric of his shorts. Vecla interrupts angrily, "Mr. Bisselli, what kind of question is that? Of course he belongs here, he's... he's one of us." Vecla stands up from the chair and looks at the man with a threatening posture, as if she were about to do something.

Mr. Bisselli doesn't flinch at Vecla's outburst. Instead, he turns his gaze to her, calm and unshaken. "I wasn't asking you, Vecla," he says evenly. "I was asking Sunny."

Vecla's hands clench into fists at her sides, her face darkening with frustration. "He doesn't need to answer that," she snaps. "It's a cruel question." Sunny shrinks slightly in his chair, caught between Vecla's protective anger and the principal's unrelenting gaze. His heart hammers against his ribs. He doesn't want to upset Vecla, but he also doesn't want to lie.

Mr. Bisselli tilts his head slightly, watching Vecla with an almost amused expression. "Cruel?" he echoes, as if tasting the word. "Or necessary?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. "Vecla, I don't think Sunny can attend this school."

Vecla's breath comes out in a sharp hiss, her entire body tensing like a coiled spring. Her fingers twitch at her sides, and for a moment, Sunny thinks she might actually lunge at Mr. Bisselli. The principal remains utterly composed, his antennae twitching slightly as he observes her reaction.

"You can't just..." Vecla's voice cracks with fury. "You can't just decide that! He's been here for weeks now! He can learn! He can try!" Her words rise, echoing off the walls of the small office. Mr. Bisselli exhales slowly, as if bracing himself for a storm. "I know," he says, his tone maddeningly calm.

Mr. Bisselli stands up and walks toward his office window. "Sunny, do you like dolphins?"

Sunny blinks, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. His fingers tighten around the arms of the chair, his nails pressing into the fabric. The question is so unexpected, so far removed from the tense atmosphere in the room, that it takes him a moment to process it.

"I... don't know... I think so" he admits quietly. "I've never seen one."

Mr. Bisselli hums thoughtfully, his antennae twitching as he gazes out the window. "Dolphins are fascinating creatures," he muses. "They're incredibly intelligent, but they also have a habit of getting themselves into trouble. They'll follow boats, thinking they're part of the pod, even if they're not."

The atmosphere is strange, even Vecla seems confused by the change of topic. Mr. Bisselli turns to look at Sunny. "Do you know what dolphins do when they're done eating and find a fish or any sea creature?"

Sunny shakes his head, his fingers still gripping the chair arms. The question feels oddly pressing, like Mr. Bisselli is waiting for something more than just an answer.

"They play" Mr. Bisselli says simply. "They are very playful and affectionate, even with humans." He studies Sunny carefully. "But they play rough, even going so far as to kill their playmate."
Vecla's hands clench into fists at her sides. "Sunny looks outside, do you see those kids playing tag?"

Sunny turns his head slightly, following Mr. Bisselli's gaze out the window. Below, the schoolyard is alive with movement, children running, laughing, chasing each other in the warm afternoon light. Their shouts drift up through the glass, distant but clear.

"Yes," he says softly.

"They're having fun," Mr. Bisselli continues.

Suddenly, a boy with bull horns charges another boy quite hard. The other boy, using his special limbs, lands on his feet, although somewhat injured.

Mr. Bisselli's antennae twitch as he watches the scene unfold. "Even if it seems harsh, the people in this community use their special characteristics all the time, and they've even become normalized in the occasional accident, which is how people here grow up." He turns back to Sunny, his face grave. "It's wrong, I know, but what can a handful of teachers do to stop dozens of students from experimenting with their skills?"

The playground outside remains lively, the children's laughter mixing with the occasional thud of bodies colliding. Sunny watches as the boy with bull horns tackles another child, sending them sprawling onto the pavement. The fallen child scrambles up quickly, rubbing their arm but grinning as they chase after the others.

Mr. Bisselli's gaze remains fixed on Sunny, his antennae twitching slightly as he observes the boy's reaction. "Do you see yourself capable of playing with those children, Sunny?" he asks, speaking more gently now. "If Vecla left you here at school, do you think you'd be able to integrate?"

Sunny's fingers tighten around the chair arms, his knuckles whitening as he watches the children outside. The scene is both familiar and foreign, he remembers playing tag with Basil, Kel and Aubrey, remembers the thrill of running, the joy of being chased. But... the way the children use their abilities without hesitation, the casual violence of it all...

"I... I don't know," he admits, speaking softly. His eyes flicker back to Mr. Bisselli, then to Vecla, who stands rigid beside him. "I don't think I could do that."

Mr. Bisselli's antennae droop slightly. "That's what I thought."

He turns to Vecla, his face softening. "I'm sorry, but I can't allow Sunny to attend this school. It's not safe for him, and it's not fair to the other students." Vecla's face darkens, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "But you said..." she starts, her words cut off by Mr. Bisselli raising a hand.

"I know what I said, but that was before I saw how... vulnerable Sunny is." He turns back to Sunny, his gaze kind but firm. "I'm sorry, Vecla. I truly am. But I can't leave this responsibility on the other children. And I can't allow Sunny to be hurt because he doesn't understand the rules of this world." Sunny's heart sinks, his shoulders slumping as he processes the words.

Mr. Bisselli continues, "Sunny needs a personal tutor, someone to teach him how to live here, someone to teach him how to use his skills, only then will he be able to begin to have a normal life among us."

Sunny imagines himself trying to keep up with the other kids, stumbling, falling, the others staring at him with confusion or worse, pity.

"I... I understand," Vecla murmurs, her voice small, stripped of its former bravery. Sunny doesn't look at Vecla, afraid of what he might see in her face. Disappointment? Frustration? He doesn't want to see either.

They both say goodbye to Mr. Bisselli and leave the building.

Sunny feels like a horrible person. He feels like he has disappointed Vecla, the only person who had cared for him in this new world, and he's let her down. He could hear those dark voices in his head again.

Vecla walks beside Sunny in silence, her hands tucked into the pockets of her oversized robe. The wind tugs at her long hair, strands whipping across her face as she stares ahead, expression unreadable. Sunny keeps his eyes on the ground, kicking at pebbles as they walk.

"I'm sorry," he finally mutters, breaking the quiet.

Vecla is startled by this. "What are you saying?... no! It's not your fault," she says, but there's a tightness in her words that wasn't there before. "It's my fault, I should have thought of that possibility... But it's not the end of the world, we just have to find a tutor for you. I can't be your tutor because of my position and responsibilities, and John is my assistant, having him as your tutor will only give him excuses not to do his job. But I know someone who can."

Sunny nods, though he doesn't fully understand what she means. He doesn't understand much of anything right now.

They both start walking towards what looks like the border of the community towards the forest, while Vecla continues talking and Sunny listening. "...Now that I think about it... a tutor should have been the first thing I should have considered. You can't live in the central hut, that's where the mother mushroom lives, and only the leader, me, and her apprentice, John, can hold its concentrated mycelia... You were were able to endure them because you were unconscious, but now... we must find you a home."

Vecla's words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Sunny keeps his eyes on the ground, kicking at pebbles as they walk. The wind carries the damp smell of the forest, mingling with the earthy scent of the community.

"I don't want to live alone with someone I don't know" he says quietly, his words almost lost to the rustling leaves above them.

Vecla stops walking. She turns to face him, her hands still tucked into her robe. Her face is unreadable, but something in her posture shifts, like she's bracing herself for something.

Suddenly, the sound of leaves being dragged by something running around them alerts them.

The rustling grows louder, leaves crunching under hurried footsteps. Sunny tenses. Vecla doesn't react at first, but then she turns her head slightly, as if listening. Sunny recognizes that sound... oh no...

Vecla exhales softly, her face still unreadable. "Ah," she says, as if confirming something. "I was wondering when you'd show up." She turns fully now, her robe swaying slightly in the breeze. The rustling stops abruptly, replaced by silence so thick it feels suffocating.

...

There it was, that creature that chased him in the forest. That beast with black fur and long fangs whose eyes rested on him. The beast emerges from the underbrush, its massive frame blocking the path ahead. Its black fur bristles as it sniffs the air, nostrils flaring. It's larger than Sunny remembers, with muscles rippling beneath its dark coat. Its yellow eyes lock onto Sunny with an unsettling intensity, pupils narrowing to slits.

Vecla doesn't move. She simply watches as the beast pads forward, its claws clicking against the dirt path. "Ah," she says again, this time with a note of amusement. "You're still here, I see." She glances at Sunny, then back to the creature. "I was wondering if you'd show up after what happened last time."

The beast lets out a low growl, its lips curling back to reveal those same sharp fangs Sunny remembers. It moves closer, muscles tensing as it advances. Sunny feels his heart hammering against his ribs, his breath coming faster. He doesn't move, doesn't run...

...

In an instant, the beast seems to metamorphose. Vecla puts her robe over it to cover it. The robe moves for a few moments before the head of a woman in her 40's emerges.
She brings her hand up to Sunny's face.

"Pup!"

She playfully touches his nose.

The woman's fingers are warm against Sunny's skin, her touch gentle despite the beastly form she had moments ago. Her face is lined with age, but her smile is bright and genuine. Her eyes, still that same unsettling yellow, sparkle with affection as she looks at him.

"Oh, you're still here!" she says, her words carrying a note of surprise and delight. "I was worried you'd run off again." She chuckles, the sound rich and deep. "You're such a skittish little thing, aren't you?"
Sunny doesn't move. He's frozen in place, his breath still coming fast, his body tense.

This day can't get any weirder...right?

Chapter Text

The walk to the cabin in the woods was quite tense, well only for Sunny, Vecla seemed very happy talking to the mysterious woman, even laughing with her.

Sunny swallows hard. He doesn't know what to say. The woman's presence is overwhelming, her yellow eyes too bright, her smile too wide, her very being something that makes him feel scared.

And yet, Vecla seems comfortable around her. That should mean something, right?

"...Hehe, you're kind of right." In the middle of her conversation with the woman, Vecla turns to look at Sunny, "Oh my, my manners. Sunny, this is Nadia Silvati. She's the one who guards the border. She was the one who found you and brought you to our community."

Nadia's smile widens, her yellow eyes flicking between Vecla and Sunny with something unreadable in them.

"Oh, you don't have to look so nervous, pup," she says, her words warm and lilting. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright after... well, after everything."

She gestures vaguely toward the woods, where Sunny had wandered in what feels like another lifetime. Her fingers twitch slightly, as if remembering the shape of claws.

Sunny shifts his weight from foot to foot, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "I... I'm fine," he mumbles, though his voice wavers slightly.

"The poor thing must be scared of you. I think you should explain your job to him, Nadia."

Nadia's smile softens as she notices Sunny's discomfort. "Oh, you're right. I'm sorry, pup. I can be a bit overwhelming sometimes."

She kneels down to Sunny's eye level, her yellow eyes now gentle and warm. "I'm the guardian of this community. I make sure no one gets in who shouldn't be here, and I make sure no one gets out who wants to leave. It's my job to keep everyone safe."

She extends a hand, palm up, as if offering something. "When I saw you in the woods, my intention was to scare you and make you run all the way back to your little town. That always works."

Sunny's eyes dart between Nadia's hand and her face, his breath catching in his throat. "But you looked so... you tried desperately to reach me when I hid in the roots of that tree."

"I saw you sink into a mud hole. What kind of adult sees that and doesn't get scared?"

Nadia's fingers twitch slightly as she watches Sunny's reaction, her smile remaining gentle but unreadable. 

"And when you corner me?" 

She tilts her head slightly, her yellow eyes reflecting the dim light filtering through the trees. "You were standing with your back to a cliff, I'll be honest, that's when I should have backed down... But I saved you"

Sunny stares at Nadia's outstretched hand, his heart pounding in his chest. The forest around them seems to hold its breath, the air thick with tension. He swallows hard, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

Part of him wants to run, to escape this strange woman and the unsettling situation. But another part, a part he doesn't fully understand, is drawn to her.

"I don't understand," Sunny finally manages to say, his words coming out in a small, frightened whisper. "Why did you save me? You said you were supposed to scare me away."

His eyes dart between Nadia's face and her hand, still hovering in the air between them.

Nadia's smile doesn't waver, but something flickers in her yellow eyes, something unreadable, something ancient. She studies Sunny with an intensity that makes his skin prickle.

"Because you're a child, and I'm a responsible adult. Does that answer satisfy you?" she says simply.

Sunny's fingers twitch at his sides. He doesn't take Nadia's hand, but he doesn't pull away either. The forest hums around them, alive with the rustling of leaves and the distant call of unseen birds.

The walk isn't very long. They finally reach Nadia's cabin, and it looks... somewhat... rustic?... It looks like an abandoned building, but Sunny is polite and won't say that out loud.

The cabin looms before him, its wooden walls weathered and gray, the roof sloped and uneven. A small porch creaks underfoot as Nadia steps up, pushing open the door with a groan of old hinges.

Inside, the air smells of dust and old paper. The room is messy, papers and trash stacked on every available surface, a small table pushed against one wall with a teapot resting on it.

Nadia gestures toward a worn armchair near the fireplace. "Sit," she says, her tone gentle but firm. She moves to the table, pouring steaming liquid into three mismatched cups.

"Well, how can I help you besides introducing myself to the lost boy in the woods?"

Nadia's question hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. She sets the three cups down on the table with a soft clink, steam curling lazily from their surfaces. Her yellow eyes flick up to meet Veclas's, searching for something in her face.

Sunny shifts in the chair, his fingers twisting together in his lap. The cabin feels freezing, there are many holes in the walls and the windows are loosely covered with newspapers.

Vecla breaks the silence. "We just talked to Mr. Bisselli and realized that Sunny needs a tutor, someone to teach him how to live like us and discover his abilities."

"His abilities? No fucking way, you gave him that mushroom to save him? You screwed up his life, Vecla. Hehe" Nadia's laughter is sharp, cutting through the cabin like a blade.

She leans back against the table, arms crossing over her chest as she studies Sunny with an unreadable expression. The firelight flickers across her face, casting deep shadows beneath her sharp cheekbones.

"I don't screw up lives, I just... we did what was necessary for him to live." She says, but there's no warmth in her voice. "And yes, I gave him a piece of the mother mushroom. What's the big deal? It saved his life."

Nadia exhales sharply, shaking her head as she picks up one of the cups and takes a slow sip. The steam curls around her face, momentarily obscuring her features before dissipating.

"You think he's ready for this? He's still shaking like a leaf in the wind." She gestures toward Sunny with the cup, her yellow eyes narrowing slightly.

Vecla steps closer to Sunny, kneeling beside his chair. "As I said... He needs a tutor to take care of that."

Nadia responds with laughter, "And who is the idiot you have in mind?"

Nadia's laughter echoes through the cabin, her yellow eyes fixed intently on Vecla. Suddenly her laughter stops, her eyes widen as she realizes something.

"Don't fuck with me! Me!?... but... why?" She sets her cup down with a sharp clink, leaning forward. "Well, I'm not exactly known for my patience with kids, Vecla. You know that."

Nadia's fingers drum against the wooden table, her yellow eyes flickering with something unreadable, frustration, perhaps. She exhales sharply through her nose, shaking her head as if trying to dispel an unwelcome thought.

"You really think I'm the right person for this?" She speaks with a rough edge, her words thick with skepticism. "I don't exactly have the patience for..." She gestures vaguely at Sunny, who shrinks slightly under her gaze. "...for whatever it is you expect me to do."

Vecla, ever composed, folds her hands in her lap. "You are the only one who understands what he needs. You are a free and wild soul. You learned to master your abilities on your own."

Nadia's fingers tighten around the edge of the table, her knuckles whitening. The firelight catches the sharp angles of her face as she turns her head slightly, her yellow eyes flickering with something between amusement and irritation.

"Oh, I see," she mutters, more to herself than to Vecla. "You think I'm some kind of... what? A role model?" She lets out a short, bitter laugh. "I don't even know if I can control myself half the time, let alone teach someone else how to do it."

She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. Her gaze flicks to Sunny for a brief moment before returning to Vecla.

"And where do you propose he live? Here? Ha. I don't even live in this dump. I live in the woods, I just have this place as a reference point so people can find me."

Vecla's features remain impassive as she considers Nadia's words. "Nadia, you owe me this. Remember who sided with you. Also, I have a second tutor in mind for Sunny, so you won't be working alone."

Nadia scoffs, but there's a glimmer of curiosity in her yellow eyes as she looks at Sunny. "Damn, fine, whatever. Who's going to be my partner? The girl with the long arms from the clinic? Dr. MR? That moron John? I like that guy."

Vecla nods, a small smile forming on her face. "I appreciate your cooperation, Nadia. I know this isn't easy for you." She smiles back

"For your partner, I had someone very special in mind, a dapper fellow who knows how to teach about more... delicate matters. Someone who can shelter Sunny during his stay."

Nadia's face shows that she is clearly confused trying to figure out the identity of this someone. "Who is it?... no... don't fuck with me... not him... that idiot is unstable, there's a reason he's under house arrest."

Nadia exhales sharply, shaking her head as she leans forward, elbows on the table. "You can't be serious with him. He's barely functional. He doesn't even know what he's doing half the time. And you want me to work with him? To teach Sunny?"

Vecla tilts her head slightly, her wooden features creaking softly. "You forget, Nadia. He was once like you. A lost soul, a wandering spirit. And yet, he found his way. He learned to control himself, to live among others without hurting them. He is the perfect candidate."

Nadia scoffs, running a hand through her messy hair.

Half an hour later...

Sunny, Vecla, and Nadia are in the central square. In front of them is an old mansion, somewhat neglected but magnificent. Vecla knocks on the gate.

The heavy wooden gate creaks open, revealing a tall, lanky man with wild, messy brown hair and a loose-fitting old bathrobe that looks like it's seen better days.

His face is gaunt, his eyes slightly sunken, but there's an undeniable energy about him, like a man who's lived too much in too little time. He blinks rapidly, adjusting to the light as he looks at Vecla.

"Vecla," he says, voice hoarse but not unpleasant. "You're... here. I didn't think you'd actually come." His gaze flickers to Sunny, then Nadia, and he squints slightly. "And you brought a guest and a pest."

"Fuck you János" Nadia responds noticeably irritated.

János leans against the doorframe, his bathrobe slipping slightly off one shoulder as he folds his arms. His fingers drum against his arms, a nervous habit that betrays his otherwise casual demeanor. His eyes flick between Nadia and Vecla, settling on Sunny for a moment longer than necessary.

"Well, well," he murmurs, tilting his head. "So this is the little stray you've been talking about." He steps aside, gesturing vaguely into the house. "Come in, then. I suppose I can't turn away a guest, no matter how unpleasant they are." His gaze flicks to Nadia again, sharp and knowing.

Nadia exhales sharply through her nose, arms crossing tightly over her chest as she glares at János. "You're really going to act like this?" she mutters, stepping past him into the dimly lit foyer.

The air inside is heavy with dust and old parchment, faintly sweet with something floral, perhaps incense, or maybe just the ghosts of long-dead flowers. János chuckles, the sound dry and rasping as he closes the door behind them.

János turns, his bathrobe shifting to reveal the sharp angles of his collarbones. His eyes flick to Sunny with something unreadable, curiosity, maybe. "You've got a lot of nerve, bringing this one here," he says, voice laced with amusement but edged with something sharper. His fingers twitch at his sides, restless.

Sunny shrinks slightly under his gaze, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater vest.

"Save the elegant, mysterious bitch act," Nadia replies tersely. "Vecla wants us to be the child's guardians."

János's entire physical disposition collapses, as if he's had a huge personality change. "What!? Vecla, what's wrong with you!? Did you hit your head!? Me taking care of a child next to that animal?!"

János throws his hands up in exasperation, pacing a few steps before turning back to Vecla with a scowl. His bathrobe slips further, revealing more of his pale torso, the muscles taut with tension. "You know I can't stand kids. You know I can't stand myself. You know I can't stand responsibility. And now you're telling me I have to babysit this... this little ghost?"

His words are sharp, but there's an undercurrent of something else... something almost defensive, as if he's trying to convince himself more than anyone else. His fingers flex at his sides, nails digging into his palms.

Sunny shrinks back, pressing himself against the wall. Nadia exhales sharply, rolling her eyes as she turns to Sunny. "Don't listen to him," she mutters, though her tone lacks its usual bite. "He's just being dramatic."

János scoffs, crossing his arms as he leans against the opposite wall. His posture is loose, but his eyes remain fixed on Sunny with unsettling intensity. "Oh, I'm dramatic now?" he drawls. "You two are the ones who just dragged a responsibility into my house without even asking."

Vecla shrugs. "You wouldn't have said yes."

"Because I don't want to!" János snaps, pushing off the wall. His movements are sharp, agitated, and he moves closer to Sunny, looming.

Sunny flinches instinctively, pressing himself further against the wall as János advances. The older man's presence is overwhelming... his scent, a mix of old parchment and something faintly sweet, fills the space between them.

"You don't belong here," János mutters, speaking quietly but dangerously. His eyes flick over Sunny's face, studying him with a scrutiny that makes Sunny's skin prickle. "This place isn't for kids like you."
Sunny swallows hard, his throat dry. He doesn't dare speak, doesn't dare move.

János exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head as he steps back. His fingers twitch at his sides, as if resisting the urge to grab something... maybe Sunny, maybe the wall behind him. His face is unreadable, but his shoulders are tense, his jaw tight.

"You're not going to cry, are you?" he asks, voice flat. It's not quite mocking, but there's no kindness in it either.

Sunny shakes his head quickly, though his hands tremble slightly at his sides. He can feel Nadia watching him, but he doesn't dare look away from János. The older man's gaze is intense, searching, like he's trying to decide something about Sunny that he doesn't like.

János exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face before turning away. He moves with an air of irritation, crossing the room in a few long strides before stopping in front of a dusty bookshelf. His fingers trail over the books absently, as if he's forgotten what he was doing.

"You're too weak," he mutters, more to himself than to Sunny, Vecla or Nadia. "That's your problem."

Sunny doesn't respond. He's still pressed against the wall. János's words feel like a slap, like the way he remembers his father speaking to him. There's no malice in them... just a cold, detached observation.

Before things can go any further, Vecla steps forward and stands between János and Sunny, as if she were a wall for the little one. Her gaze is penetrating and she shows no trace of weakness in her being.

"János," Vecla says firmly, her words sharp and clear. "I don't think this is the best way to start the tutoring session." She turns to Sunny, her face softening slightly as she looks at him. "You and Nadia will be this child's tutors. This isn't a request. Remember, you're still serving your sentence."

She approaches János with a threatening expression, he seems to understand his position. "So, what do you say we start over again? As if it were the first time you've met him."

János exhales sharply, his shoulders tensing as Vecla's words settle in. His fingers tighten around the book he's holding before he slams it back onto the shelf with more force than necessary. The dust kicks up in a small cloud, swirling in the dim light filtering through the grimy windows.

"Fine," he mutters, turning back to face Sunny. His face is unreadable, but his posture is less aggressive now. He studies Sunny for a moment. "My name is János Csáky"

János speaks with a clipped, precise tone, as if he's reciting something rehearsed. "And you are?" he prompts, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sunny swallows hard. "Sunny" His pulse still hammering in his ears. János's words from before too weak echo in his mind, making his stomach twist. He wants to shrink further into the wall, to disappear entirely, but he forces himself to stand straighter.

"Sunny," János repeats, testing the name as if it's foreign to him. His dark eyes flick up and down the boy's frame, assessing. "You're skin and bones. I see that I will have a lot of work from now on." Sunny flinches. He wants to look away, to retreat, but Vecla's presence behind him feels like a tether, keeping him rooted in place.

"You see Sunny, I come from an ancient lineage, a house lost in the dawn of history, my methods are the most..."

János begins to walk while reciting his monologue, leaving the room, apparently he believes that the others are following him but in reality Sunny, Vecla and Nadia stayed where they were.

"Do we... have to follow him?" Sunny asks softly.

"Nah, don't pander to his bullshit," Nadia replies.

Vecla chuckles darkly. "János can be... abrasive. But he's the best teacher we have for you, Sunny. He'll prepare you for what's to come." She places a hand on Sunny's shoulder, her touch firm but not unkind. "Remember, you're here for a reason. You need to learn to survive in this world."

Sunny nods, his heart still pounding in his chest. He looks back at the empty doorway, where János had disappeared, then to Vecla and Nadia.

"Well, that's how things are, at least you can live here, it's an ugly mansion but it is a mansion after all, you won't lack space or food, and if you get tired of these two silly tutors you can always come see me and I'll bake you cookies, consider me your Grandma Vecla"

Sunny nods stiffly, his fingers twitching at his sides. The mention of cookies does little to comfort him... he's too aware of the way János had looked at him, like he was some broken thing to be fixed. He glances at Nadia, who rolls her eyes dramatically, then back to Vecla.

"Grandma Vecla..." he murmurs, testing the name. It feels strange on his tongue, like something he shouldn't say. But Vecla smiles warmly, her lined face crinkling with affection.

"That's right, Sunny," she says, patting his shoulder. "You don't have to call me that if you don't want to, but I think it suits you, don't you?"

"Hey, don't be mean, why didn't you follow me? I was talking and talking and I didn't realize you hadn't even followed me." János returns, this time with a slightly lighter attitude.

"Okay, enough with the games," Vecla chimes in. "Sunny will live here in one of your rooms, János. You'll feed and maintain him. Both you and Nadia will train him and prepare him to live among us, is that understood?"

János exhales sharply through his nose, his gaunt face twisting into something between annoyance and reluctant acceptance. "Fine."

Nadia scoffs, crossing her arms. "Yeah, yeah, we get it." She shoots Sunny a quick glance, then smirks. "Well, as much as we can." Sunny shifts uncomfortably under their attention. He keeps his hands tucked into his sleeves, fingers curling against the fabric.

Vecla finally breathes a sigh of relief. "I know I'm asking a lot of you, but I'll reward you as well."

János seems to be struck by that. "What kind of reward?"

"I'll shave 100 years off your sentence."

János stiffens, his long fingers curling slightly at his sides. The offer hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Sunny watches as János's gaunt face twitches, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable... perhaps hope, perhaps resignation.

"Damn, that's where things really change. Sunny, I'll love you and care for you. I'll take care of you as if you were my own." 

János speaks with a excited, near friendly quality, but there's something almost genuine in the way he says it. His fingers twitch at his sides, like he's resisting the urge to reach out for him and hug him. Nadia smirks, nudging Sunny's shoulder with her elbow.

"See? You're gonna be real popular around here," she teases.

Sunny flinches slightly at the contact, but doesn't pull away. He looks up at János, his dark eyes wide and uncertain. János holds his gaze for a long moment before sighing and turning toward the house.
"Well, come on then," he mutters. "Might as well get this over with the the presentation of your new home." Nadia gives Sunny a playful shove forward.

Is this how things are going to be? I hope I can hold on.

"Nadia... can I ask you a question?" Sunny says with a little more confidence with his former pursuer.

"Go on, (nom nom) with confidence" The four of them had grown tired of exploring the mansion and had started eating ice cream in the living room.

"100 years seems excessive to me for just being under house arrest, what did János do?"

"Well... he didn't do anything... serious. The big sentence is more like a punishment. You see, János's ability makes him very long-lived. The bastard is older than old Vecla, haha."

"Hey!" Both Vecla and János heard this and were offended, even though it was true.

"It's true, I'm a bit old, but don't get me wrong. Nadia is much older than you think, Sunny. She was alive when the Roman Empire was still standing. haha."

A shoe flew into János's face.

Chapter Text

Sunny blinks awake, startled.

Aubrey stands at the foot of the bed, her hair a wild mess, her face worried. "We're going to be late for Mari's picnic, get up!"

Sunny blinks groggily, rubbing at his eyes as Aubrey's words sink in. The morning light filters through the curtains, soft but bright enough to make him squint. His room is quiet except for Aubrey's restless presence at the foot of his bed.

"You know she gets really upset when we're late," Aubrey continues, shifting from foot to foot. She's already dressed for the picnic, a light blue dress that makes her look prettier than usual. Sunny notices this only briefly before looking away, fingers tightening around his blanket.

"I... I don't feel very good," he mumbles, his words faint with sleep and something else, an underlying unease.

Aubrey softens, her impatience fading into something more concerned. She sits on the edge of the bed, her small hands folding neatly in her lap. "Sunny," she says gently, "it's just a picnic. You know Mari worked so hard on it. And... and it's been a long time since we've been together like this." She speaks with quiet enthusiasm, but Sunny hears the way her words catch, like she's trying to convince herself too.

Sunny pulls the blanket tighter around himself, his fingers fidgeting with the edges. "I know," he mutters. "I just... don't feel like going." He speaks so softly; Aubrey has to lean in to hear him.

"Sunny..." She puts a hand on his head "Why do you let us down?"

Aubrey's voice distorts like white noise, the girl's body twisting into a slimy, black mass of eyes.

"Why are we the ones who work hard, and you don't even put in the minimum effort?" Sunny recoils as Aubrey's fingers curl into his hair with crushing pressure, her touch turning cold and unyielding.

The bedroom flickers between normalcy and nightmare, one second, Aubrey is sitting there with concerned eyes; the next, she's crouched before him, her face stretching into a grotesque mask of disappointment.

"I try," Sunny whispers, his voice shaking as he shrinks back against the headboard. "I really do."

"But not enough!" The words aren't Aubrey's voice anymore, they're deeper, layered with echoes. "You're always like this! You can't even go to a stupid picnic without making a big deal out of it!"

"Ahhhhh!" Sunny wakes up in a cold sweat from that nightmare, looks around… right, he had agreed to live with János in his mansion.

He wished that yesterday had been just another nightmare. The mattress beneath him creaks as Sunny sits up, his heart still hammering in his chest. The room is cold, lit only by a dim light filtering through the heavy curtains. The smell of dust and old paper hangs in the air, mixing faintly with the aroma of something cooking downstairs. János's mansion creaks around him like a living thing, unsettling in its silence.

The room is foreign to him, aged furniture, peeling wallpaper, a heavy wardrobe pushed against the far wall. To say he lives in a mansion is a bit of an exaggeration, literally that was the only room with four walls and no leaking ceiling.

Sunny slowly gets out of bed, his body stiff from the cold. As he pads across the creaky floor, he spots a small clock on the nightstand - 6:30 AM. The early hour matches the quietude in the house. He shivers, rubbing his arms as he approaches the window, peering through the gap in the curtains.

The view outside is eerily beautiful, behind the town a misty forest stretches out as far as the eye can see, with only the tops of the tallest trees visible above the fog. The sun is just beginning to rise, painting the sky in shades of purple and pink.

Sunny decides to go down the stairs and start his day, when the going gets tough, the tough get going, Mari used to say.

The stairway groans under Sunny's careful footsteps, each step accompanied by a soft creak that echoes through the mansion's empty corridors. The air is heavy with wood polish and something older, dust and age permeate the place like a living presence.

At the base of the stairs, the kitchen door was ajar, allowing the smells of a freshly cooked breakfast to waft through the air. Sunny peers into the kitchen, spotting János stirring something on the old gas stove.

The man's silhouette against the warm morning light makes him look almost ethereal. As if sensing Sunny's presence, János turns, a warm smile spreading across his lined face. His face quickly changes to one of horror

"Ahhhhh!... Fuck… right, you live here now" he takes a few breaths trying to calm down from the fright "I had totally forgotten about yesterday"

Sunny blinks, suddenly very aware of his presence as he stands there watching János. He hadn't really thought about how it might be for János to suddenly have an extra person in the house, let alone a child. "I'm... I'm sorry if I scared you," Sunny says quietly, his words sounding small in the echoing kitchen.

János shakes his head, a wry smile forming as he turns back to the stove. "It's not your fault, kid. I'm just not used to having company, that's all."

János looks at his breakfast plate and breathes a sigh of surrender. He passes the plate to Sunny. "Damn... I have to start cooking for two."

Sunny takes the plate carefully, his fingers brushing against the chipped ceramic. The eggs sit fluffy and golden, the toast buttered just right. János watches him, one arm still propped against the counter, the other adjusting his rumpled sleeves.

"I don't bite, you know," János says lightly, though there's a weight behind it. "And I don't expect too much. Just... don't set the house on fire, and we'll be fine."

Sunny gives a small, hesitant smile, setting the plate down at the table, he picks up the fork. The eggs are warm and salty, the yolks rich against the soft toast.

János leans against the counter, watching Sunny eat with an almost detached interest. He exhales softly, tilting his head as if working through some private thought.

"You don't have to be so careful," he says at last, pushing off the counter to set another plate before Sunny. He slides the last piece of toast onto it, slicing it with deliberate ease. "I made plenty."

Sunny stares down at the additional food, his fingers tightening around his fork. "I…"

"You're not going to waste away on me, kid."

The words cut through the quiet kitchen, carrying a gruff quality, almost like a scold. János moves to sit across from Sunny, his chair scraping against the floor. He reaches for the teapot, pouring himself a cup before looking at Sunny. "You're going to need all that energy, because knowing Nadia, ha, she's going to train you to the max today."

Sunny glances up from his plate, fork halfway to his mouth. János watches him with an expression caught between amusement and resignation. The older man's fingers wrap loosely around his teacup, steam curling upward as he sips.

"Eat, kid," János says again, softer this time. "Not just for me, but for you. If you start getting weak, then I won't be able to keep up with whatever Nadia's got planned."

Sunny nods slightly and takes another bite. The food is good—simple but well-prepared, the sort of meal he enjoys.

Outside, the day is beautiful. He can see the children getting ready for school. He, however, is going to a different kind of education. Together with János, whose house arrest area had been extended for tutoring, they headed to Nadia's house.

As they walk, Sunny notices János occasionally glancing at him, a look of concern or curiosity crossing his face. The older man's hand occasionally brushes against Sunny's back, guiding him when they need to turn a corner or cross the street.

"Nadia's got quite the reputation, you know," János says conversationally, his gravelly voice cutting through the morning air. "She's not what you'd expect from a home tutor. I should know, she's put me through my paces more than once."

Sunny nods.

When they reach the clearing by Nadia's house, she's already waiting for them. "Bastard and Sunny! You two are finally here!"

Nadia grins, rocking back on her heels as she watches János and Sunny approach. She wears a loose-fitting tunic, its sleeves rolled up to reveal scarred arms, and faded jeans tucked into worn boots. Her long black hair is tied back in a ponytail, strands escaping to frame her face. There's a wildness to her, an energy that's almost impossible to contain.

"Hope you two got some sleep," she says, nodding to János first and then Sunny. "This is going to be rough, and we don't got time to waste."

János exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "You really love your theatrics, don't you?"

Nadia winks.

"Oh, you're already here" Vecla comes out of the forest surprising the three.

Sunny tenses at Vecla's sudden appearance, his heart giving an uncomfortable jolt. She drifts through the space like something only half-there, her movements fluid and unnatural. Nadia whistles low under her breath.

"Gotta love a surprise visit," she mutters, watching Vecla weave between János and Sunny, stopping just close enough that she can meet his eyes. Her face shows the same happiness she had yesterday with Sunny.

"Looks like you made it in one piece, little one," she murmurs, a smile ghosting across her face. "Though you still look about ready to bolt." She touches his arm lightly, not enough to restrain, but enough to anchor him.

"We... uh... we didn't know you were going to be here today; don't you have work to do?"

Vecla chuckles, the sound rich and warm like the glow of a hearth on a cold night. She keeps her hand on his arm for a beat too long, her fingers warm despite the crispness of the morning air. "Work waits, János," she says simply. "But Sunny…" She taps the side of his face lightly with two fingers. "…you don't wait for much, do you?"

Nadia shifts beside Sunny, crossing her arms as she watches the exchange. There's something unreadable in her face, something amused, something knowing. "The little prince, is going to practice with us, and we know you can be a little... overprotective" she mutters under her breath.

Vecla's laughter flows like slow-moving water over a pebble, filling the space between them all with something warm. She looks at Sunny with deep, knowing eyes, the kind that seem to see right through skin and bone, into the places where his thoughts coil like wet ropes.

"I promise I won't interfere, I just wanted to be at Sunny's first tutoring session."

Nadia snorts softly, rocking on her heels again. She rolls her shoulders back with a small shake of her head, as if trying to rid herself of a lingering amusement. "Yeah, well, if he fucks up, that's on him. I don't baby my students." She shoots Vecla a sideways glance, her lips curling into something just shy of a smirk. "Especially not this one."

Sunny flinches slightly under Vecla's touch, but he doesn't pull away. He hasn't moved in a long time. Not really. He knows Nadia's words are meant to be teasing, but they hit with the force of an old bruise being pressed.

You don't fuck up, Sunny. You don't make mistakes.

Sunny looks at the floor.

Nadia exhales sharply through her nose. "Alright, let's get this over with before the kid freezes to death." She turns on her heel and strides toward the tree line, where a small, simple box sits nestled among the leaves. Over her shoulder, she tosses a glance back at him.

"Okay, let's start with a classic." She takes two wooden swords out of the box and throws one at Sunny's feet. "Swords! Our kind is resilient, but that doesn't mean we won't be hurt. You'll have to learn to endure."

Sunny stares at the wooden sword at his feet. The wood looks worn, well-used, and he imagines countless hands before his own gripping it. The thought makes his throat tighten.

Nadia stands there, arms crossed, waiting for him to move. Her face is unreadable, but there's something in the angle of her jaw, the slight forward tilt of her posture, that makes it clear she expects him to do something.

You don't fuck up, Sunny.

His hands shake slightly as he bends to pick up the sword. It's heavier than it looks.

János simply sits on a rock, noticeably unsurprised, while Vecla does the same but without removing that supportive look towards Sunny.

Nadia's expression shifts, something between a smirk and a glare. "You're holding it like you're afraid it'll bite you." She lifts her own sword, stepping forward with a lightness that makes Sunny's grip tighten. "That's going to get you killed."

A beat. Then she swings, fast and clean.

Sunny instinctively ducks, stumbling backward, and the wooden sword whistles through the air where his head had been a moment ago. His heart pounds. The sword wobbles in his hands, heavy and uncooperative. He tries to raise it, but it's all wrong, the wrong angle, the wrong position, everything too hesitant.

"Fuck—"

"János!" Vecla shouts, hitting János on the back of the head.

"What about me? Sunny was the one who said it," he says, rubbing the bruise.

"You were probably the one who taught him. Sunny is an angel."

Nadia's smirk widens, knowing and irritatingly confident. "That? That's pathetic." She doesn't give him a moment to recover, stepping in and swinging again. This time, Sunny twists, half by instinct, half by sheer panic, and the sword grazes his side. Pain flares, sharp and sudden, and he gasps, stumbling back.

"You call that dodging?" Nadia tuts, shaking her head. She steps closer, and Sunny tightens his grip, realizing too late how ridiculous it must look, clutching a wooden sword like it's a lifeline while shaking from fear. The pain is nothing compared to the humiliation crawling up his neck, burning his face.

"Come on Sunny, hit her without fear in that stupid face of hers, I'll take responsibility." János shouts.

Nadia's eyes gleam with amusement as she advances, sword tip angled slightly upward. Sunny can feel his heartbeat thundering in his ears, the sword in his grip quivering like an extension of his fear. The memory of Kel and Hero egging him into jumping at the lake flashes unbidden, how he had hesitated and failed. The same humiliation clenches in his throat now as he backs away.

"You keep looking at my sword like you expect it to hurt you," Nadia says, taking another step forward. Her stance is perfect, light on her toes, weight balanced. Everything about her is effortless, from the tilt of her head to the loose way she holds her weapon.

Sunny's grip tightens as he stumbles backward, the wooden sword in his hands suddenly feeling heavier than before. His breathing comes in short, uneven bursts, his pulse pounding so hard he can hear it in his ears. Nadia watches him, her smirk widening, like she's savoring his fear.

"Ahem" Vecla chimes in. "Maybe that's enough. Sunny could use a little rest. How about you and János show him how it's done? You're both experts with these types of weapons."

Nadia's smirk doesn't falter, but she does lower her sword just slightly. "Tch. Fine." She rolls her shoulders, stretching with the casual confidence of someone who knows exactly how capable they are. János perks up immediately, stepping forward with a dramatic flourish. Meanwhile Sunny sits next to Vecla and she gives him a small box of apple juice.

"Oh-ho! Finally, a chance to show off!" He lunges at the box of training supplies and begins to search, pulling out a long, thin wooden sword. His dark eyes glitter with amusement as he watches Sunny. "Watch closely, kiddo. This is how it's done."

Nadia mirrors his stance opposite him, holding her weapon with ease. The two of them face each other, postures primed for combat.

"Haha, do you think a side-sword will make any difference?"

"What the fu... This is a ropera, no, it is not a side-sword, nor a foil, it is called a ro-pe-ra, or rapier if you prefer Anglo. The difference is that this one is not military, it is a civilian sword, as its name suggests in Spanish, it was used with civilian clothing..."

Nadia, Vecla and Sunny are left speechless by the long speech János is giving them in the middle of the battle.

Sunny shifts uncomfortably beside Vecla as János rambles about the intricacies of the ropera. The apple juice is cool against his palm, but he doesn't drink yet, his hands still shake from the adrenaline of facing Nadia. She catches his eye across the courtyard and winks, her smirk widening as if she can see right through him.

"Alright, that's enough, János." Nadia cuts him off with a flick of her wrist, her sword now at a defensive angle. "You talk more than you swing that thing. Let's see what that fancy weapon can do." She taps her foot impatiently.

The sunshine cuts through the dense trees, its golden rays painting the courtyard in a warm glow. Sunny stands between the two fighters, his posture tense as he watches them prepare for their duel. János takes up a graceful stance, his ropera held at the ready, while Nadia circles him with predatory ease, her own weapon ready to strike.

"First to disarm gets an oatmeal cookie from my kitchen." Vecla adds with a grin, settling back to watch the show. Both János and Nadia perk up at the prospect, their competitive natures flaring. The sound of wood clashing rings through the air as they begin their dance, their movements fluid and precise.

Sunny watches the duel unfold, his heart pounding as Nadia and János's wooden weapons blur together in a whirlwind of motion. Nadia's attacks are quick and precise, while János's movements are flowing and graceful, his ropera seeming to be everywhere at once. Despite their earlier antagonism, Sunny notices that both fighters are holding back, careful not to actually hurt each other with their wooden practice weapons.

As the duel continues, Sunny's gaze drifts to Vecla, who is watching the fight with rapt attention. Her usually serene expression is taut with interest, as if she's mentally dissecting every move of both fighters. Sunny wonders if she's evaluating them for some purpose he doesn't yet understand.

János retreats, his ropera moving with fluid grace, but Sunny notices the slight tightening around his eyes, he's struggling to keep up.

Vecla chuckles, the sound rich and warm in the air. "Hah! Look at you, Nadia, always so eager to win." Her gaze flicks to János. "But our friend here isn't so easily bested, is he?"

Nadia grins, her face bright with intensity. "I fight to win, Vecla. There's no other way."

Nadia puts all her weight into her next blow; however, it was a trap, clearly János was feigning retreat to feint and manages to hit Nadia's hand.

The wooden sword crashes against Nadia's hand, and for a moment, time seems to pause. The impact sends a sharp crack through the air, followed by Nadia's fingers uncurling instinctively. The practice sword falls from her grasp, spinning once before striking the dirt with a dull thud. Nadia freezes, her dark eyes flicking to János's triumphant smirk.

Vecla claps her hands together. "Oh, well played! Well played, János!"

Sunny shifts slightly on his feet, feeling the tension in the air. Nadia's face is unreadable, but the rigid set of her shoulders tells him she's not pleased.

"FUCK.... FUUUUUUCK!!!"

Nadia's words burst out like a sudden explosion, shattering the quiet of the forest. Her face contorts in frustration and anger, nostrils flaring as she glares at János. Vecla's lips quirk into an amused smile, clearly enjoying the development. János raises an eyebrow, still holding his ropera in a ready position.

Nadia sees Sunny looking at János with admiration and wonder, and this infuriates her. How can she let a asshole like János get all the admiration of their student?

"Sunny, do you want to see something really cool? I own a real golden sword and not one of those wooden crap, I bet with a real one I could beat this idiot."

Nadia quickly retreats to her cabin and returns with the famous golden sword, it is sublime, it shines like the sun and is encrusted with jewels.

The golden sword glints in the sun light as Nadia grips it with both hands, twirling it effortlessly through the air. Her dark eyes burn with defiance as she levels the blade at János.

"Ooooh, shiny!" János laughs, rocking back on his heels as she watches Nadia's performance. "If you think your toy makes you invincible, Nadia, then by all means…" he extends his arm in invitation, "let's see what happens when it meets real skill."

Sunny is visibly excited, it's the first time in a long time that he's felt this way, better than an episode of Captain Spaceboy. Vecla, however, is a different story. Her previous emotions are gone, and there's darkness in her face. She stands up and walks toward Nadia.

"Nadia, darling, where did you get that sword?"

Nadia's grip tightens around the hilt, her face paling. "Fuck..."

All because she wanted to impress Sunny, she forgot that she shouldn't show her stolen treasures in front of the leader.

Vecla moves closer, scrutinizing the intricate patterns along the blade. "Oh, it seems very old."

Sunny shifts uncomfortably. Something in the atmosphere has changed, the air feels thicker, pressing down on his shoulders. The joy of seeing the sword dulled somewhat as he watches the women exchange unreadable glances.

There's something unreadable in her words, an undercurrent of knowing. A small muscle twitches in Nadia's jaw. Sunny can see it.

"Y-yeah," Nadia stammers. She holds the sword like a shield between herself and Vecla, swinging it in a wide arc to test its balance. "Found it in the woods!"

Vecla exhales softly, almost laughing.

"Nadia..."

Nadia's breath catches, her earlier bravado crumbling.

"Ok, ok... this... this is the sword of… Louis II of Hungary… I stole it when I found him dead in a ditch after the battle he had."

Nadia watches Vecla closely as she speaks, her words tight and clipped. "I was supposed to be scouting the war for our old leader, but I got... distracted." Her fingers tighten around the hilt until her knuckles turn white. "I saw this lying next to him, shining in the mud. I just... I picked it up... Hehe..."

Vecla looks at her with disappointment, "Nadia, you know well that we should not alert humans too much, a lost treasure of a famous king could have alerted people of our existence"

Sunny watches the interaction unfold, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He knows that tone Vecla is using, that careful, measured disappointment, like the way Mari speaks when he messes up. It makes his skin prickle. Nadia, unlike him, doesn't shrink under it. She stands firm, taking the scolding,

"H-hey, I'm not some stupid kid," Nadia snaps. "I knew what I was doing." She raises the sword higher, as if its presence alone could argue for her. "It's been fine for this long. No one's noticed. No one's come looking. Besides, János has that huge stolen room and nobody told him anything"

János tries his best to keep Nadia quiet, but it's too late, now Vecla is watching him.

Vecla's eyes slide over to János, cool and assessing. The older man immediately stiffens, a nervous twitch crossing his lips. Sunny has never seen János look uncertain before. It unsettles him more than it should.

"What the hell is wrong with you? How do you steal something like this?!" Vecla screams.

They are all standing in a hidden room in János's basement, a room decorated with amber panels backed with gold leaf and mirrors and decorated with gilded chandeliers and furniture.

"This is the fucking Amber Room! the one that was stolen by the Nazis during World War II!! Why the hell do you have it on your basement!?"

János stands frozen, his gaunt frame stiff, hands curling at his sides. The echoes of Vecla's rage bounce off the gilded walls of the hidden chamber, each syllable sharpening the already taut atmosphere. Sunny watches as beads of sweat form on János's forehead, his usually composed face now contorted in something akin to fear.

"N-nobody asked me where it came from," János mumbles, avoiding Vecla's gaze. His fingers twitch at his sides, a nervous habit Sunny recognizes all too well. "I was just... I was just making the place look nice."

Vecla's eyes flash with unbridled fury, her usually patient demeanor shattering completely. "Nice?"

She stalks towards János, her presence becoming more menacing with every step. "You've been hiding this… this priceless piece of history in your basement, playing with it like it's some personal toy, while everyone else has been searching for it for decades!"

János recoils, stumbling backward until he bumps into one of the gilded walls. The impact sends a cascade of dust motes swirling in the beam of light filtering through the small basement window. "I didn't know, I swear! I found it, it was just there, abandoned in some ruins…"

Vecla made Sunny leave the room. What followed was hours of the harshest scolding that could be heard throughout the community.

Better not anger Vecla, Sunny thought to himself.

Chapter Text

The big clock chimes the seconds, its echo stretching through the empty halls of János's mansion. Sunny waits alone.

Vecla had something like a seizure while screaming at János and Nadia. They rushed her to the clinic.

Now, Sunny leans against the heavy oak door of the study, hands tucked in the pockets of his sweater vest. The silence is oppressive. Only the occasional groan of old wood and the ticking of the grandfather clock keep him company. Afternoon light cuts through floating dust, scattering like faint stars across the dark wooden panels while he looks at the multiple paintings on the walls

His mind drifts… to Mari, to his friends.

A sad smile creeps across his face. Mari, always working so hard, always trying to be perfect. Sunny envies her. She always tried to make their parents proud. Could he ever do the same?... He messed up so badly… smashed his violin, ran away...

Hero’s always charm face even with his father’s criticism about him. Kel’s easy laughter, nothing ever bothers him. Basil, who worries enough for everyone. And Aubrey...

Aubrey… Stubborn, loud, and surprisingly kind. She had tried to comfort him when he broke down, genuinely hurt by his pain. He remembers her at the park, her head on his shoulder, her smile, her eyes, her cute…

“…Damn, at least she’s okay now!”

The fantasy crashes. So does the silence as the sound of his guardians returning alerts him.

Blushing, Sunny quickly pulls himself together.

He meets them in the lobby downstairs. Nadia greets him first, smirking as always, while János trails behind, oddly quiet.

“You look... pensive little one” Nadia comments as she drops into a chair by the fireplace, stretching like a lazy cat despite the cold hearth. János remains near the door, hands behind his back, eyes sharp.

Vecla is still recovering from whatever that episode was?

Sunny wants to ask... but the words stay stuck.

“Don’t worry about her,” János says, probably guessing Sunny's question, waving it off. “Bad witch never dies. Although... I had to pay for her treatment. I swear, even on a stretcher she had enough energy to keep yelling at me.”

Nadia chuckles. “At least she didn’t mention the whole ‘return the treasures’ thing. Returning them would just draw more attention than keeping them.”

“Amen to that. Sunny, high five for unpunished crimes.”

János holds up his hand. Sunny hesitates, then weakly slaps it. János winks at him, some of his usual mischief returning.

“You seem troubled, Sunny. Still thinking about Vecla?”

“She’s... difficult,” Nadia says, stepping to the window. The dying sunlight cuts across her face in dramatic shadows. “But she’s the only one who knows how this place really works. Like it or not, we need her.”

János sighs and nods, his mood sobering. “She’s a nightmare wrapped in wisdom. Unfortunately, that makes her indispensable.”

“It’s not just Vecla...” Sunny murmurs. “I’ve been thinking about my family. My friends.”

János raises an eyebrow. He leans casually against the wall. “Missing them?”

Sunny fidgets with his sweater. “I’m a horrible person. I destroy something important. I ran away. I hurt them. I didn't even consider their feelings; I only think about myself.”

Nadia scoffs. “If you were truly horrible, you wouldn’t care.” She looks him over, eyes narrowing. “Regret means you still have a conscience.”

“She’s right,” János adds. “The guilt you feel? That means something.”

“But caring doesn’t change anything,” Sunny whispers. “I still did it.”

Nadia rolls her eyes and kneels beside him, folding her scarred arms. “Wallowing won’t fix it either. You left. Fine. It happened. Now do something about it.” Her voice softens. “Move forward... or stay stuck. Your call.”

János watches them both. “Guilt is a part of growing. But don’t let it become your whole identity.” He pushes off the wall, grabs something from the mantel, a small snow globe, and holds it up.

“Let me try something,” he says. “This snow globe… It’s… It’s your trauma. Your mistakes. All the crap you’re dealing with.” He shakes it. “It’s quiet from the outside. But inside, it’s chaos. Swirling reminders of everything you’d rather forget.”

He tightens his grip. “And if you try to bottle it all up, hide it away…”

CRACK!

The globe shatters in his hand.

“AH! Shit! Ow!!”

Nadia bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach. “Oh my God, János!!”

“Not funny!” he growls, glass and blood in his palm.

Sunny stares. “...I didn’t understand the metaphor.”

“Fuck the metaphor… get me tweezers,” János hisses.

Nadia, still giggling, pulls a first aid kit from her bag. “Good thing I’m always prepared. You’re hopeless.”

János snatches it, grumbling. “Shut up and hand me the ointment.”

As he struggles with the tweezers, Nadia steps closer. “Want help?”

“I got it,” he snaps, fumbling. His hand shakes slightly.

Sunny watches the whole scene, unsure whether to laugh or worry. “Why do you even carry a first aid kit?”

“With friends like this? Why wouldn’t I?” Nadia smirks, then notices the tiny snowman that was inside the globe. She picks it up.

“You know,” she says, voice quieter, “maybe the metaphor still works. You try to hide your problems, bury them, but eventually... they’ll hurt you even more. Whether you do something about them or not, they’re still there. The only thing you can do is hold on until you're strong enough to face them… with care and patience.”

János rolls his eyes. “Ugh. Philosophical Nadia. I can’t take it.” He finally finished healing his hand and bandaging it.

Still... he glances at Sunny.

And Sunny, quiet for a long moment, finally says, “I think... I get it now.”

Nadia smiles and claps his shoulder. “Good. Now, let’s eat. A full stomach makes for a smarter mind.”

She lifts him onto her shoulders before he can protest. János chuckles. “No arguments here.”

Just as they step outside, a familiar voice calls out.

“Vecla seriously picked you two as tutors?”

Mr. Bisselli approaches, arms full of books, glasses slipping down his nose. He eyes them with tired amusement.

“At least I can’t say you lack experience,” he adds, giving Sunny a kind smile. “These two treating you alright?”

János mutters, “Only person I didn’t want to see today.”

Nadia rolls her eyes. “You never leave your mansion. You barely talk to anyone. Deal with it.”

She turns to Sunny. “Ignore Bisselli. He’s just jealous of our tutoring skills.” Then to Bisselli, “What are you even doing here?”

“I coordinated with the other teachers” Bisselli says, smirking. “Sunny’s going to need education while adapting to the community. You two are his tutors, so… good luck.” He hands them the pile of books and winks at Sunny. “I’m rooting for you.”

As he walks off, he throws over his shoulder, “Just don’t let the kid die, okay?”

János grumbles, “Asshole.”

He turns to Sunny. “Now we have to make sure you’re not an empty-head too.”

Sunny winces. “I’ll try not to be...”

Before he can say more, Nadia hoists him higher. “Let’s eat. Come on, genius-in-training.”

János smiles. “As I said before, I won’t argue with that.”

The three of them are eating in a café.

"I told you, Doña Carmen makes the best coffee and buñuelos in the community," says Nadia, holding a buñuelo.

Sunny bites into his own buñuelo, the sweetness of the banana inside melting on his tongue. It's soft and fluffy. He watches Nadia dip hers in coffee before taking a bite, her expression unfazed despite the intense heat. János sits across from them, methodically sipping his espresso, occasionally making approving noises.

"You have to try it with the honey," Nadia says, pushing a small jar toward Sunny. "Like this." She demonstrates, smearing honey thickly across her buñuelo and taking another bite. Her face shifts into a pleased expression. "Mmm! Perfect!"

Sunny has a question for them. Lately, he's felt comfortable and familiar enough to ask them anything. "You two are older than Vecla, right?"

Nadia lets out a laugh, wiping honey from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. "Yes, by quite a few years," she says, flashing a grin. János exhales through his nose, stirring his espresso. "Vecla's an old woman..." he mutters, though there's no real malice in his tone. "...But I'm older"

"She's in her eighties or seventies or so" Nadia interjects, nudging him with an elbow. "Eighty-two, I think."

Sunny's eyes widen slightly. "But she acts... older than you."

Nadia smirks, taking another bite of her honey-covered buñuelo. János leans back in his chair, his dark eyes flicking between them with quiet amusement.

"That's because she ages naturally" János reply "The mentality of old agers is more of a mental thing, the body is weaker and therefore the mind has to spend more energy, changing one's personality. We are older but our bodies are still in their prime..." he looks at his hand "...Almost"

Nadia snorts. "He just doesn't like admitting he's not a spring chicken anymore." She dips a fresh buñuelo into her coffee, watching it absorb the dark liquid before lifting it.

János takes another sip of espresso, his face an unreadable mask. "And yet, I still feel twenty years old in the right moments." He looks at Sunny. "You will too. When you're my age."

Sunny bites into his buñuelo, the sugary dough sticking to his teeth for a moment before dissolving. "How old are you?" he asks.

Nadia nearly chokes on her coffee.

"You don't ask a gentleman that... rude." János reply.

The three of them burst out laughing. Today was a good day, despite everything.

Chapter Text

The static of the television echoed through the living room; it was a relatively quiet night. Two children were sleeping snuggled up on the couch after a sleepover that promised to last all night but didn't last past 11 p.m.

The clock in the hallway ticked rhythmically, its steady rhythm matching the faint rise and fall of Basil's chest. In the dim glow of the television, Aubrey's head rested against his shoulder.

Basil's eyes remained closed, but he wasn't sleeping. His breathing was shallow, his mind restless despite the comfort of his friend's closeness.

Basil's fingers curled slightly against his knee, resisting the urge to move, to shift, to disturb the fragile peace between them.

Aubrey's parents had had another fight, and as he promised, he would always have a place in his home for her whenever she needed it.

The TV hummed, a low murmur of late-night infomercials filling the silence. His eyes flickered open slightly, gaze settling on the photo album resting on the coffee table. The pages were lined with pictures of his friends, smiling faces, frozen in moments of laughter or simple contentment. Sunny smiling slightly as he played the violin. Kel mid-laugh, mouth wide open. He loves his friends... He… He misses Sunny.

He exhaled slowly, trying to ease the tightness in his throat. It's been almost a month since his disappearance, he had hoped that he had simply gotten lost and that they would soon find him, but nothing happened... those were the worst days, days in which even the police had nothing more to add, days in which each time his trail became colder and colder.

Basil shifted carefully, adjusting the blanket without disturbing Aubrey too much. The motion only caused her to nuzzle closer into his shoulder, still asleep. He paused, holding his breath for a moment, then let it out slowly.

Basil reached for the photo album with deliberate slowness, as if the act itself was too much. He turned the pages carefully, each image a small stab in his chest. There was one of him and Sunny, standing side by side at the edge of the playground near the swings. Sunny's smile was small, hesitant, it always was when they were alone together. But he had been smiling. That much was clear. His eyes studied that photograph, tracing Sunny's outline.

The house is quiet except for the distant hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards settling. The clock ticks on, 11:42 PM. Basil flips another page in the album, this one a Polaroid of Sunny inside a box like a cat. It's a rare moment, the few times Sunny ever let him take a picture without immediately shrinking away.

Basil's fingers brush over the glossy surface of the photograph. He inhales slowly, and it's only now that he notices how warm the air is, how heavy the silence weighs.

He can't sleep right now, not with all these worries on his mind. He decides to flip through the channels on the TV, keeping the volume low of course; he doesn't want to wake his friend.

The TV screen flickers as Basil changes the channel. The glow casts a dim light over the living room, reflecting off the dark wood floor. Sunny's name crawls across the bottom of a late-night news broadcast, no new developments in the disappearance of twelve-year-old Sunny Suzuki.

Basil swallows hard. His fingers tighten around the remote as he flips through more channels. A late-night talk show, then a cooking show, then some old sitcom rerun. He stops when he reaches a nature documentary about life in the mesopelagic and bathypelagic depths.

The images on the screen are stark, strange, bioluminescent creatures gliding through pitch-black water. Their faintly glowing bodies twist and shift in eerie patterns. It reminds Basil of the pond outside town, the dark waters hidden beneath layers of moss and shadow. Sometimes he wonders if Sunny used to think about that kind of thing, he was always daydreaming.

Basil exhales shakily, leaning forward slightly. His fingers drum against the photo album still resting on his lap. On the screen, a squid-like creature unfurls its tentacles, pulsing faintly with its own inner light.

"We will now move on to the Melanocetus johnsonii, more commonly known as the humpback anglerfish."

The humpback anglerfish swims into view, its luminescent light blinking rhythmically. Its massive jaws gape open, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. Basil watches, transfixed, as the creature drifts through the depths, a pale light pulsing from the end of its fishing pole-like lure.

11 p.m.

Somewhere in Crossby.

A driver checks the bus seats before parking it in the garage. He notices that one passenger is still seated. The last passenger, he probably fell asleep and missed his stop.

The figure hunches in the farthest back seat, wrapped in a tattered jacket, knees drawn up to their chest. From the side, the driver notices how their hands clutch the jacket tight around them.

"Sir... hello there, sir. You missed your stop. You're all the way out here in Crossby now."

The figure doesn't stir at first. Then, slowly, the head lifts. A mop of black hair falls away from a gaunt, pale face. The man's hollow expression meets the driver's, dull and distant. His red-rimmed eyes flicker in the dim interior lights of the bus. The driver shifts uneasily.

The man remains silent for a long moment, his fingers tightening against the tattered fabric of his jacket. He doesn't seem to register the driver fully, his gaze distant, unfocused. Then, he exhales, almost inaudibly, before speaking with a low rasp.

"Missed my stop."

The words come out flat, drained of emotion. His breath is shallow, and there's a slight tremor in his hands.

The driver nods slowly, hesitating before stepping closer. "Yeah... you did. Now I'm going to put the bus in the garage, you have to go, sir." He speaks carefully, aware of the unease emanating from the passenger.

The man doesn't move at first, his grip on his jacket only tightening. His breathing slows, deliberate and measured, as if steadying himself against an unseen pressure. The driver watches him, fingers drumming against his keys, waiting for some kind of response.

Then, finally, he speaks again. "Crossby... where is that?" His voice is raw, hoarse, like it hasn't been used much in a long time.

The driver exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's a town about forty minutes outside the city." He pauses, looking at the man's posture, curled in on himself, as if trying to make himself smaller. "You got family out here or something?"

The man begins to stretch. "No... I was supposed to get off at Faraway Town."

The bus driver glances back at him, then looks at the outside. "Well, you missed it."

The man stays silent for a long moment, the quiet pressing between them like an unspoken question. Then he exhales sharply, rubbing at his forehead. His fingers are cold against his skin, his whole-body stiff with exhaustion. "Damn it," he mutters, almost to himself. "Well... when things get tough you have to hurry, they say. Do you know of any motels nearby?"

The driver scratches at his stubbled cheek, considering. "Yeah, there's a motel about ten minutes up the road. It's cheap, but it'll do for a night." He keeps his eyes on the road as he speaks, voice measured. "You got luggage or something?"

The man shakes his head. "No. Just... myself." He picks up the strap of his bag, worn and threadbare. "Do you know if there's a phone I could use?"

The driver lets out a short, dry chuckle. "You ain't gonna find many payphones out here, but the motel might have one."

The man nods slowly, his gaze drifting to the window. The landscape outside is unfamiliar, rolling hills, a dark green forest...

"The female humpback anglerfish has a long appendage, called an illicium, extending from its head, ending in a shiny structure called esca."

Basil is quite interested in the beauty of the documentary. He knows he should go to sleep now, although... his head keeps thinking about his friend.

I wonder if Sunny would have been interested, he always liked documentaries like this. The thought comes unbidden, slipping into Basil's mind as he looks at the beautifully hideous fish.

"In the total darkness of the deep ocean, the light attracts other curious creatures that approach, thinking it is food or a light source."

The man strolls through the streets of Crossby, dimly lit by old streetlights.

"Shit, I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."

The man scratches at his stubble again, mindlessly, as he steps onto the cracked pavement. His shoes scuff against the uneven surface, the sound swallowed by the silence of the late hour. The town is still, most of its residents tucked away behind locked doors. Only the occasional flickering neon sign provides any real animation, lights buzzing in protest.

He scans the street, eyes settling on a small restaurant at the corner. It's nothing fancy, a diner, worn-down, the sort of place that probably smells of burnt oil and griddle grease. But it's closed. "Fuck my luck."

Unknowingly, he attracts the unwanted attention of two men who spy on him in the dark, they look at his bag.

The two men murmur to each other, their voices just audible. One wears a heavy jacket despite the mild night air, his fingers twitching as he grips the pocket knife on his pants. The other leans against a parked car, hands shoved deep into his pockets, eyes flicking between the stranger and the alleys nearby. Their postures shift, no longer idly observing, but considering. The man by the car adjusts his stance, rolling his shoulders, while the other one steps forward.

"Hey man," the guy calls out, voice casual but measured. "You need somethin'? Looks like you're lost."

"The anglerfish remains completely motionless, hidden in the darkness thanks to its black body and small size, waiting for its esca to do the work."

Aubrey stirs and opens her eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Basil whispers.

"No, it's fine." Aubrey sits up, rubbing her face. The moonlight streams through the window, casting an eerie glow over the room. She glances at the clock. "Why are you still awake at this hour?"

Basil sits on the edge of the sofa "I can't sleep... I keep thinking about Sunny." He flips open the album. "Do you think he's okay?"

Aubrey slides out of couch and places a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he is. We'll find him soon."

She looks at the lit TV.

"What an ugly thing, what is that?"

Basil peers at the television. "Anglerfish," he says softly. "Did you know they have their own lures? They have a light on their heads, like a fishing pole. They wait in the dark, and when the lure shines bright enough, they snatch their prey."

Aubrey stares at the creature with a disgusted face, "Okay... I don't want to have nightmares about that thing... can I have a glass of milk from the fridge?"

"Sure," Basil mutters, standing up and leading Aubrey to the kitchen. He opens the refrigerator door, the light casting a soft glow on the white tiles. The milk bottle is cold in his hands as he pours some into a glass.

"Thanks," Aubrey says, taking the milk and sipping it slowly. "You know, I think Sunny has his own light, too. He shines for us... but not like that ugly thing"

"Okay, sir, empty the bag and give us the good stuff."

The two thugs, knife in hand, corner the man in an alley. He stands with his back to them and says nothing.

"Tch. Nervous, huh? Makes me think there's actually something worth taking." The taller one presses closer, tilting his head. "Come on, gimme. Be a good boy."

"When prey, such as small fish, crustaceans, or cephalopods, comes close enough to the lure, the anglerfish suddenly opens its enormous mouth."

The man doesn't move. He remains perfectly still, silent, his back rigid.

"Fine. Have it your way." The taller one grabs the man's shoulder and spins him around…

The world freezes. The man's face remains shadowed, indistinct, but his silhouette is clear. Tall, lean, dressed in layers of dark fabric that swallow what little light remains in the alley. His right-hand rests in his pocket, motionless. His other hand lifts, fingers spreading in a placating gesture.

…

And suddenly...

…blood in the alley.

"Its mouth has an extraordinary capacity for expansion and can swallow prey almost equal in size to itself."

Aubrey grimaces, "Can't we just change to another channel? That thing freaks me out."

Basil doesn't answer right away. His eyes remain fixed on the television, fingers tightening slightly around the remote control. "Yeah... yeah, we can change it." He presses the button, and the image of the anglerfish vanishes, replaced by the cheerful opening of an old sitcom. But his words remain soft, distant.

Aubrey sips her milk, watching him carefully.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"(Heavy breathing) I... I... his head... ripped off... help... (sobs)"

"Sir, I need you to take a deep breath for me. I'm here to help you. Can you tell me your name? Where exactly are you?"

"I... I don't know... I'm hiding behind a dumpster, uh... near... next to Herman's on Hamilton Walker Street..."

"Roger, you're near Herman's on Hamilton Walker. Stay on the line. I'm sending units to your location now."

Rapid typing sounds.

"Can you tell me what happened? Who ripped whose head off? Is that person, or whatever it is, still nearby?"

"I... I don't know... it was a... we thought it was a man... my friend... came closer... (sobs) I hear him... he's coming closer..."

"Listen carefully, stay calm. Don't speak loudly. If possible, cover your mouth when speaking and speak very quietly."

The dispatcher's tone is now almost a firm whisper, as if speaking directly into his ear.

"Units are on the way. I just need you to tell me, Can you see the subject? What does he look like? What is he doing right now?"

"NO!! PLEASE, I'M SORRY!!! NO- (sound of the cell phone falling to the floor)"

"Control, this is Operator 14-5. We have an active critical situation. Possible attack in progress. Patrols and urgent medical support to Hamilton Walker, near Herman's. Possible hostile individual exhibiting extremely violent behavior. Communications with the victim abruptly terminated. Priority one. I repeat, priority one."

Then, in a lower voice, almost a whisper in case anyone on the line is still listening.

"If you can still hear me… don't move. Help is on the way. Hang in there."

Basil carried Aubrey to his bed and is going to turn off the TV, though he's still curious to see how the documentary ends...

"Although the anglerfish isn't a proactive chaser, if wounded prey is nearby, it can move stealthily and repeat its ambush."

The words dissolve in the quiet of the dark room. Basil stares at the screen, mesmerized by the eerie glow of the anglerfish's lure, swaying hypnotically in the depths. The narrator's voice continues, soft and clinical.

"Some biologists speculate that this species might be one of the few truly blind creatures in the world."

Basil exhales, rubbing his temples. He looks down at the empty couch next to him. His mind drifts back to Sunny. Basil reaches for the photo album resting on the nightstand. His fingers trace the edges, hesitating.

Enough for tonight, Basil thinks, leaving the album on the table and turning off the TV before lying down on the couch and sleeping.

The man with a bag enters the motel and approaches the receptionist. "Hello ma'am, sorry for the late hour. Do you have any rooms available?"

The motel clerk, an older woman with bleached blonde hair and tired eyes, glances up from her magazine. Her wrinkled lips part in a tired smile, "Of course, sir. We always have rooms available at Crossby Motel." She pulls a pen from behind her ear and pushes a registration form towards him.

"How many nights will you be staying?" She speaks with the same mechanical monotony as someone who has repeated this question countless times.

The man sets his bag down with a dull thud and takes the pen. "Just one night." His fingers linger over the form before he begins writing. His handwriting is small and precise, each letter carefully formed.

"Do you need a room for smoking or non-smoking?"

She barely glances at him as she asks, already knowing what the answer will be, no one really smokes in motels anymore, especially not the kind of people who stay here. The clerk's tired eyes flicker to the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until she can go home.

The man hesitates, his pen hovering. "Non-smoking," he finally says, making a small note on the paper. His words are quiet, controlled. He keeps his attention low, on the form, the plastic clipboard, the worn countertop beneath it. He's avoiding eye contact, deliberately so. She doesn't seem to notice... or care.

"Excuse me, ma'am, do you know if the forest here connects to the Faraway Forest?"

The clerk blinks slowly, her face blank as she processes the question. Her fingers pause as she reaches for the keycard. The room number on it is already written, 207. She had already assigned it before he even finished filling out the form.

"Forest?" she echoes, as if testing the word. Her tone is flat, disinterested. "Oh. Yeah, I guess." She shrugs slightly. "Connects at the eastern edge, I think. Don't go that way though." A knowing smirk crosses her face as she hands him the keycard.

"Town's bad enough, but the woods...?" She shakes her head. "I heard there are wolves... You have ketchup on your cheek"

The man flinches ever so slightly before brushing at his face with the back of his hand, his fingers shaking as they do so. He hadn't even realized.

He swallows hard, voice tight as he mutters, "Thanks."

The clerk nods absently, already returning to her magazine. She doesn't seem particularly invested in making conversation, nor does she appear concerned about his reaction to her warning. If anything, she seems vaguely amused by his discomfort.

"I recommend not going out after dark," she adds without looking up. "Crossby's got its share of creeps. They like to circle the diner after hours." A slow grin appears on her face. "The one that's closed."

"Yes... I already realized... good night"

Chapter Text

The sunset bled across the sky, staining it with smears of violet and orange, colors too beautiful, too alive, to belong to a world so quietly broken.

Inside the Suzuki household, silence settled like dust. It clung to the corners, heavy and unmoving. The quiet wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating.

Mari sat at the edge of the counter, still as glass. The golden light from the window painted her face in warm tones that didn’t reach her eyes. She’d promised Hero she’d try, try to do little things, try to be present, try to live again.

But even trying felt like lying.

She felt like a hollowed-out version of herself. Not empty, no, emptiness would be easier. Instead, she was full of things too heavy to carry. Guilt. Fear. A sorrow so deep it felt older than her bones. Her body moved through the days like it remembered how to live even though her heart had forgotten.

Her father had returned to work, not because he had healed, but because he no longer knew what else to do. He came home each night quieter than the last, like a man dissolving. Her mother was even less present. Sometimes Mari heard her late at night, muffled sobs in the kitchen while the fridge hummed beside her. That was the only time she knew she was home at all.

Tonight, Hero was making dinner again, just like he always did. The scent of herbs and fresh vegetables filled the air, grounding and gentle. His movements were fluid, practiced. He peeled potatoes as though routine might be enough to keep them afloat.

Mari stood nearby, arms crossed tightly around herself, like she could hold her broken pieces in place if she just held on hard enough.

Hero glanced at her, his smile soft but weighed down. “You okay?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her lips parted, but only a whisper came out. “Yeah.” It was a lie, of course, but the truth was too complex, too loud. She didn’t know how to say.

I feel like I’m sinking, and I don’t even want to swim.

That thought describes her perfectly. Perfectly... heh

Hero nodded gently, his hands never stopping. “Did you finish your homework?”

The question almost made her laugh, if laughing hadn’t hurt so much lately. He sounded so much older than he was. Responsible. Parental. A little piece of him that had to grow up too fast.

He set the knife down and stepped closer. His hand found her arm, warm and steady. “Mari,” he said, his voice a tether. “You promised you’d take care of yourself.”

A breath escaped her lips like steam from a cracked kettle. “I know,” she whispered. Her voice wavered. “But I don’t know how to be okay without him.”

Hero’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the silence between them wasn’t heavy, it was shelter. “I know,” he said again, voice roughened by something unspoken.

She stepped forward, forehead pressing into his chest like she wanted to disappear into him. His arms came around her without hesitation, and she folded into the warmth, the safety, the familiarity of him. He held her like he could carry her pain if she’d let him.

“He should be here,” she said, voice cracking.

“I know,” Hero breathed. He pressed his hand to her back, grounding her. His voice betrayed the cracks in his own armor, cracks he never let anyone see. Sunny wasn’t just Mari’s little brother. He had been Hero’s shadow, his responsibility, his friend.

And now he was gone.

Hero gently rocked her in place, forehead resting against the crown of her head, the kitchen light haloing around them like a memory that wouldn’t let go.

Then…

A knock at the front door. Too sharp. Too loud. It shattered the fragile moment.

“Mari! Hero! It’s us!” Kel’s voice cut through the air, bright and unaware of the storm it had interrupted.

Mari stepped back, blinking fast, wiping her face with trembling fingers. Hero hesitated before letting go, brushing a thumb beneath his eye before he moved to answer the door.

Kel burst in with his usual energy, but the joy on his face faltered when he saw Mari. Aubrey followed, sharp-eyed and protective. Basil trailed behind them like a shadow, his presence brittle and tense.

“Did we... interrupt something?” Aubrey asked.

Hero shook his head. “No, it’s okay,” he said, voice thin. He raked a hand through his hair, trying to shrug off the tension, trying to be fine.

Mari followed behind him, her posture collected, but her hands shook just slightly.

Kel flopped onto the couch without hesitation, trying to lighten the mood. Basil stood stiffly near the door, his gaze cutting into Mari like he could see every wall she was trying to rebuild.

“It’s... good to see you again,” Mari offered, voice uneven. “Sorry I’ve... been away.”

“You think?” Basil snapped.

His words were a slap. Mari flinched.

Hero stepped forward instinctively, but didn’t speak.

“You left us,” Basil said. “You’re supposed to be the older sister. But you vanished. While we’ve been out there looking for Sunny, you’ve been in here. Hiding.”

“Basil!” Aubrey turned on him, eyes wide. “We said we’d talk, not attack.”

“I’m not attacking. I’m telling the truth.”

Mari flinched like she’d been slapped. She didn’t deny it. Because maybe he was right. Mari looked down at her lap, fists clenched in her skirt. She wanted to vanish, dissolve into the floorboards. But she stayed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Hero sat beside her, his presence a shield for her.

“We all lost him,” Aubrey said, voice softer now. “But you’re still our Mari. We looked up to you. We need you.”

Mari met her eyes, and the grief there mirrored her own.

She turned to look at Kel, who nodded solemnly. Then Basil, who still stood apart, angry, but hurting too. Then Hero, who was watching her like she was glass.

“You’re right,” she said. “I haven’t been there for you. I shut down. I stopped being a big sister. I’m... I’m sorry.”

Hero took her hand, finally. His grip was firm, grounding.

Basil’s eyes flicked down to their joined hands, then to Mari’s face. His mouth opened, then closed. For the first time, he didn’t know what to say to her, he wanted to scream a lot of things but… he already knows that will do nothing.

“What do we do now?” he asked instead, voice low.

A long silence settled over them.

Then Kel stood, crossing his arms. His face was serious in a way that silenced the room.

“We fix this,” he said. “Together.”

The living room settled into a strange, fragile quiet. The kind that comes after a storm but before anyone’s brave enough to step outside and assess the damage.

Mari’s hand still rested in Hero’s. Her fingers felt too cold, like they didn’t quite belong to her body. Like everything since that day had numbed her from the inside out.

“We fix this,” Kel said again, as if trying to strengthen the idea itself in his head.

Simple words. Impossible words, some think.

“How?” Basil asked. He sounded tired. Not angry anymore, just... spent. “We’ve searched the entire neighborhood. The close woods. The park. And nothing. Not even a clue. The police believe that he went deeper into the forest, where it is even difficult to move with so much vegetation there.”

“Still, there's hope,” Aubrey said suddenly, her voice uncertain. “That forest is vast and has many exits. Sunny could have left through another route and gotten lost following a road”

Hero frowned. “The forest is indeed enormous, but even if that had happened... yes, there is hope. Sunny could be in some nearby town, following the wrong path. It's only a matter of time before someone recognizes him from the posters.”

It all sounded desperate, a fantasy constructed from assumptions and tape. But it was all they had. And in the minds of the five... it was better than the alternative.

Mari blinked. It could be, a little hope doesn't hurt, besides, she needs it, not for herself, but to keep together what she still has, her group of friends, Sunny would have wanted that.

“We can start from the beginning, we know that Sunny went to the hidden pond before disappearing, we could look at a map and see the possible points where he could have gone.” Aubrey says. “We could even explore ourselves.”

They all heard it, even if no one said anything.

Hero glanced at her, eyes filled with silent worry. “I... don't think we should go exploring alone... we might get lost anyway.”

Mari shook her head slowly. “If we are careful… Yes, we can” She looks at her three little siblings again. “But not you kids”

“No! I want to look for Sunny too.” Kel says.

Mari's gaze sharpens. "No," she says firmly. "It's too dangerous. I won't risk losing any of you too."

"But we could help!" Kel protests, his lower lip quivering. "We know Sunny super better than anyone!"

Aubrey nudges him with her elbow. "Mari's right. You guys are too young." Her attention turns to Mari. "But... maybe... I could go with you?"

Mari doesn't hesitate. “No”

The idea of going to the place where Sunny disappeared sends a shudder through Mari.

Hero shifts uncomfortably. "I'll come too. You shouldn't go alone."

Mari smiles, a genuine smile she hadn't felt in a long time. How she loves that guy. She exhales softly, relief cascading through her body as she watches Hero's eyes, warm and steady.

The way he says it, so sure, so protective, makes her heart swell in a way that eases the crushing weight of worry she's carried all day. His steady presence fills the gaps in her heart left by Sunny's absence, and she finds herself leaning into him just slightly, her fingers brushing against his sleeve.

"I'd like that," she murmurs. "I don't think I could do this alone."

"Hey, this isn't the time for that," Kel says, his face filled with disgust as he watches the two older siblings lean their faces closer. They hadn't even noticed.

Mari pulls back instantly, her face flushing as she straightens her posture. Hero clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, but his hand remains at the small of Mari's back.

Basil sighs, crossing his arms. "You two are weird." His tone is grumpy, but there's no real venom behind it this time. Aubrey, on the other hand, is happy to see Mari back to her old self.

Mari nods, pressing her hands together as if praying for strength. "Then let's go. The longer we wait, the farther he might get."

Mari stood slowly, legs trembling. She looked at all of them, these people who still cared about her, even after everything.

Kel nodded, face set with determination.

Aubrey gave a small, fierce smile.

Hero squeezed her hand one last time before letting go, and she missed the warmth instantly.

Only Basil hesitated. Then, finally, he stepped closer, not quite joining them, but no longer standing apart.

“Just... don't abandon us again,” he said softly.

Mari looked at him, something fragile and aching blooming behind her ribs.

“I won’t,” she said. “Not anymore.”

Chapter Text

Boredom.

Not the lazy, cozy kind where time stretches gently and you drift between dreams.

No, this was the soul-grinding, mind-numbing kind that turns a bright afternoon into a grey eternity. The kind that makes even your own skin feel too tight.

Sunny lay sprawled on his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling like it owed him an apology. He’d already finished his tutoring, already done his homework. Already existed too long inside the same four walls.

His fingers toyed with the loose thread on his quilt. He watched the dust swirl in the air like tiny spirits dancing in the golden stripes of sunlight cutting through the curtains. The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional clink of János’s tray downstairs and the solemn ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Like footsteps pacing in a room with no exit.

He stretched his hand off the edge of the bed, fingers wiggling toward the floor. A familiar old habit. A silent invitation.

But Mewo wouldn’t come.

She was gone, left behind in his old house. The air felt heavier for it.

A sigh slipped from his lips.

Then… soft humming. János’s voice drifted up from below, wrapped in that strange, warm accent of his. Normally, it brought a certain kind of comfort. Today, it felt like a lullaby meant for someone else.

Then came footsteps. The door creaked.

János entered with a tray balanced in one hand, smiling like he’d just solved the world’s most boring mystery. The scent of spiced tea and buttery pastries followed him like a parade.

“Sunny boy!” he announced, setting the tray down with a little theatrical flourish. “This level of sulking isn’t healthy. Even a ghost would be more cheerful.”

“I’m not sulking” Sunny muttered to the ceiling.

János chuckled, a low rumble like distant thunder. “No? Then you’re just professionally horizontal. I see.”

He poured two cups of tea, the steam curling in delicate spirals. “You’ve earned it, I suppose. All that work this morning. But come, drink with me. It’s harder to mope with shortbread in your mouth.”

Sunny sat up slowly, moving like a reluctant ghost. The cup was warm in his hands, the scent earthy and calming. Like crushed leaves. He sipped, let the warmth settle in his chest.

“You’ve been a good guest,” János said between bites. “Helpful, quiet. Well… except for when the King Rat nearly turned us into soup when we try to clean up and reclaim part of the house. My poor library wing…”

Sunny flinched at the memory. The skittering claws. The smell. The chase.

“I think that part of the house belongs to the rat now,” he said quietly.

János gave a solemn nod, then brightened again. “Well, I do appreciate your bravery.”

He glances at Sunny. "So, how are you holding up, hm? Do you still feel like a strange man in a strange land in here?"

Sunny exhales through his nose. "I guess," he murmurs, shifting slightly against the pillows. His gaze drifts to the window, where the golden light of late afternoon spills over the fields outside. "Sometimes."

"You fit here better than you think," he says. "Sorry for what I said when I first saw you, you do belong here."

There was a pause. János’s eyes twinkled.

“You know what?” he said, sitting up straighter. “You need a quest.”

Sunny blinked.

“A solo adventure!” János declared, pulling out a scrap of parchment. “A list of mystical objects. Hidden in plain sight. I will stay here and drink tea like a wise elder. You will return triumphant.”

The folded paper was pressed into Sunny’s hands with dramatic flair. He stared at it like it might explode.

“I don’t know...” he muttered. “What if I get lost?”

“In this sleepy little town?” János snorted. “You’d have to try. Besides, everyone knows everyone.”

“Mhmmmm”

János leaned in close, eyes gleaming. “Unless… you’re scared.”

Sunny narrowed his eyes, lips twitching. It wasn’t a smile, but it was close.

“…I’ll try.”

János grinned like he’d just won a bet. “That’s the spirit.”

He ruffled Sunny’s hair, led him to the door, and waved him off with a cheery “Godspeed, Chosen One!”

Sunny unfolded the parchment.

And the Mystical objects are…

Milk, Bread, Eggs, Apples, Sponges (highly mystical), One bag of candy (optional but morally correct)

Clipped to the paper was a bit of money... Of course. It was just shopping.

A sigh escaped him, but there was something oddly comforting about the ordinary-ness of it all. He tucked the list into his pocket and started toward town.

The market buzzed like a beehive, all colors and clamor. Lanterns swung gently overhead, casting amber light on stalls piled high with vegetables, spices, cloth, and noise.

Sunny kept to the edges; hood pulled low. The smells were overwhelming, roasting meat, sweet buns, oily smoke. People bumped shoulders and exchanged greetings like they’d all grown up inside the same story.

A half-hawk vendor advertises his fresh apples, their peel glistening under lantern light. He glances at the list. Apples, János wanted them, didn't he? As Sunny steps closer, the vendor notices him.

"Hey there! Want an apple, kid? Fresh from the farm today!"

The man speaks in an easy, warm tone. Sunny hesitates, fingers tightening around the list. It's not an expensive item, but he never feels right speaking to strangers in town.

"Wait a second, you're the human child Vecla adopted."

The air changed.

People turned. Eyes landed on him like falling stones.

Sunny froze. His stomach twisted. He wanted to vanish into his hoodie.

“Oh, don’t be shy!” the vendor said, voice suddenly brittle. “Just... grabbing some apples, huh?”

The whispers came like rain…

“...Is that the stray?”

“...Nadia found him in the woods...”

“...Is he human?”

“...He looks normal...”

“...Is he dangerous?”

“...So thin...”

“...Maybe he’s cursed...”

"…Didn't they say they gave him the mother mushroom to save him?..."

"...maybe it's a lie..."

"…maybe he has some ability that doesn't change his appearance, like your cousin..."

"…He's skinny, don't they give him food?..."

"...do you think his family abandoned him in the forest?..."

Sunny wanted to disappear. His breath stuttered. His hands trembled.

The vendor, sensing the tension, awkwardly thrust the bag of apples toward him. “Here, take them.”

Sunny dropped too many bucks into his hand, not caring. He grabbed the bag and pushed through the crowd. Their whispers chased him down the street like shadows.

People step aside, but their murmurs follow him like a wave.

"... looks so nervous..."

"... is he scared of people?..."

"... he looks like he's going to cry..."

Sunny wants to scream at them to stop, but the words won't come.

He ducked into a narrow alley, heartbeat racing. The quiet here was sharp but welcomed. He sank to the ground, arms wrapped around his knees. The apples spilled from the bag, rolling across the stones. One burst open with a soft, wet sound.

He didn’t cry. He just sat there, staring.

Then…

“Oi!”

A voice.

A boy his age crouched a few feet away. He had a lizard-like tail that flicked lazily behind him and odd little pads on his fingers.

“You dropped your loot,” the boy said casually, starting to collect the fallen apples. “Can’t have that. These look premium Hehe.”

Sunny blinked, too stunned to stop him.

The boy finished gathering the fruit and placed the bag beside Sunny with a satisfied nod. “There. Apples rescued. You're welcome.”

“...Thanks,” Sunny muttered.

The boy tilted his head. “You look like crap.”

Sunny flinched. But the boy didn’t say it cruelly. It was just… honest.

“I know,” he whispered.

A pause.

“You okay?” the boy asked, softer now.

Sunny hesitated.

No pity in the boy’s eyes. Just patience.

“…No,” Sunny admitted. “Not really.”

The boy smiled, bright and mischievous. “That’s fair.”

He extended a hand, casually like they’d already known each other for years. “I’m Victor. And you’re the terrifying human child who popped out of nowhere like a horror story. Uuuu~ hehehe.”

A tiny laugh caught in Sunny’s throat, surprised and involuntary.

It didn’t fix everything.

But it helped.

Victor didn't walk that much as he crawled on the walls. He led the way back to the market, his tail swayed like a metronome to a song he was humming.

“You’ve got the brooding thing down,” he said, glancing back at Sunny with a grin. “Real mysterious. Ten out of ten. But people don’t bite, you know. Well, Koro might, but he’s only got two teeth.”

Sunny followed, hands in his pockets, the bag of apples bumping softly against his side. “I don’t think I’m mysterious,” he muttered.

Victor shrugged. “Even better. That means you’re accidentally cool.”

They wove through the stalls, Victor waving and grinning at everyone. People smiled back. One vendor threw a candy at him, which he caught without breaking stride and handed to Sunny.

They finished the list together. Victor knew all the best shortcuts, back alleys, rooftop paths, a tunnel that smelled like pickled mushrooms and regret. He bargained like a gremlin, got them a discount on the bread and sponges, and managed to sneak a second bag of candy into Sunny’s pack when he wasn’t looking.

By the time they were done, the sun was already gone, painting everything in warm, sleepy moonlight.

“Wanna meet my crew?” Victor asked, balancing on a low stone wall like it was a tightrope.

Sunny hesitated.

“They’re not nosy,” Victor added. “Or... okay, they are. But they’re cool about it.”

Sunny nodded slowly. “Okay.”

The crew? was exactly what Sunny didn’t expect… and maybe exactly what he needed. Kids his age.

They were sprawled across an old, half-abandoned terrace park above the market square. Moss crept between the bricks, and lanterns hung from overgrown vines, some flickering with real flame, others with lazy floating glowbugs.

There was Koro, the so-called biter, who was wide-eyed and built like a boulder, with sharp underbite tusks and a surprisingly soft voice.

Penny had wings. Tiny hummingbird wings. “Decorative,” she said. “More aesthetic than functional.” She showed Sunny how she used them to shuffle cards faster than anyone.

Nate was quiet, all long limbs and eerie, catlike eyes, perched high on a ledge like a gargoyle with a book.

They all accepted Sunny with a kind of casual grace that made the tight knot in his chest loosen, just a little.

No questions. No weird looks. No whispered rumors.

Just a space made wider for him to fit.

Later, they played Terrace Tag. The rule was simple: don’t touch the ground. Ever.

Victor was a blur, leaping from one rooftop to another with impossible ease, tail whipping through the air.

Sunny stood at the edge of a low wall, heart pounding. His fingers clenched. The jump didn’t look big, just a meter or so, but to his legs, it felt like an ocean.

“You don’t have to,” Penny said gently beside him. “You can walk the garden wall and still be in.”

But something in Sunny stirred. He wanted to be part of it. He wanted to try.

He ran. Jumped. Nearly missed.

Koro caught his arm, grinning. “Gotcha!”

Later, he climbed slowly across ivy-covered gutters. Victor doubled back and offered a hand. “Shortcut. Wanna impress them?”

Sunny took it. And he laughed, really laughed, as Victor pulled him up and over like it was nothing.

There was a strange, heady joy in being among them. A wild kind of belonging.

And then, it happened…

He was crossing a gap between two slanted roofs, feeling reckless and free. The others were calling, laughing, scattered like shadows and sparks. Victor had just leapt onto a tall chimney and saluted the night.

Sunny smiled, and looked up.

His foot slipped…

He fell…

The world turned over itself…

Wind roared in his ears. His stomach lurched…

He closed his eyes…

But then, nothing…

No impact…

He was hanging. Suspended.

A heartbeat passed. Then another.

Sunny opened his eyes.

He wasn’t holding anyone’s hand.

Victor wasn’t there.

Instead, his own hand, his right hand, was clutching the stone ledge. Except it wasn’t his hand.

It was covered in sleek black fur. Fingers tipped with feline claws, flexing against the brick. Strong. Inhuman.

His heart slammed into his ribs. He stared, breath caught in his throat.

Then, slowly, the fur faded. The claws retracted. His skin returned, pale and trembling.

Voices above.

“Sunny?” Penny’s voice, worried.

He reached up with his other hand, hauled himself shakily onto the terrace.

Victor was there in an instant. “You good?”

Sunny nodded too fast. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

But inside, something had shifted. He wasn’t sure what he was anymore. But he was definitely not just human.

After half an hour, he said goodbye to his new friends and returned to the mansion. János was asleep on the couch with a plate of cookies with letters that spelled out "You did it!"

Sunny left the groceries in the kitchen and went to his room. He had a lot to think about.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands. The tips of his fingers still tingled from the strange transformation. The fur had been soft and black like... like a cat's.

He curled his fingers into fists. He remembers when a woman on the street called him a stray. He wasn't an animal. He was Sunny. But then what had just happened?

He shook his head, trying to banish the thought. Tonight had been fun. He'd made friends. That was the important thing.

Chapter Text

They called him the Rat King, though he had no crown, only a mangled wire looped around his skull, half-swallowed by old wounds. His realm, the crumbling scaffolding of the mansion’s forgotten library wing.

The books had long since decayed into nests. The chandeliers, once grand, now swung like bones in a butcher’s hook room. Still, he ruled. And like all kings drunk on their own legend, he believed his empire would grow eternal.

To the kitchen next. Then the cellar. Then…

CRASH!

The sound of brittle bones cracking under teeth. Splinters of skull flung across dusty floorboards.

Nadia lifted her blood-slick face, rat entrails still caught between her incisors. Her jaw flexed once, twice, before she spat the last of the beast into a black trash bag. Sunny flinched, and János, behind her, scrubbed harder at the gore-streaked tiles with a mop that might as well have been a relic of war.

“How cute,” Nadia murmured, wiping her mouth on her sleeve like it was nothing. Her eyes found Sunny and his group. They hovered near the doorway like children on a field trip that had gone wrong.

“You look like you've never seen death before.”

Sunny tried to answer, his voice caught somewhere between apology and nausea. “I... I have. Just not... like that.”

They were supposed to reclaim the mansion from the vermin, a simple task Sunny had spun into a little group project. A distraction. Something good. But Nadia… she wasn't doing it for closure or cleanliness. She was enjoying this. Far too much.

The taste of iron still clung to Nadia's tongue as she crouched beside them. Sunny watched her, wide-eyed and pale, his hands still shaking from the shock of the transformation and the gore. The others stood just behind him, Koro shifting nervously, Penny hugging herself with her eyes closed, Nate rigid with barely-contained fury at Nadia's brutality, and Victor... Victor was the only one who found that exciting and cool.

"You're shaking," Nadia said, while playfully ruffling his hair. Her smile sharpened. "Aw, little cat got cold?"

Sunny flinched when she leaned closer, her breath hot against his cheek. "I'm not a cat," he whispered.

"Let them be, Nadia." János says, he seemed fine, but he was just as disgusted as the others. "Kiddos, why don't you go look for something of value in the library? I'll let you keep any treasure you find."

Sunny's group disperses, some with visible relief, others still clearly unsettled by the scene they just witnessed. János and Nadia stay behind, cleaning up the mess she made.

"Why are you behaving like this with the children? You scare them. I heard the other children in the community tell scary stories about you."

"I am the bogeyman, the witch that lurks in the shadows. The children fear what they don't understand, and in that fear, they learn." Nadia's smile widens, revealing a flash of sharp teeth. "It's part of their education. Survival, adaptation,  those who survive learn quickly. Those who don't? Well, they learn even faster or die."

János looks at her with an annoyed face "That's not how things work... well, not entirely"

János cleans up the bloody floor with swift precision, his movements tight with something between discomfort and familiarity. Nadia watches him, her head tilted slightly as if amused by his disapproval. She stands, wiping her hands on a nearby cloth and tossing it onto the table carelessly.

"I don't expect you to understand," she says, tone casual but her smile sharp as ever. "You, with your noble ideals and misplaced morality. Tell me, János, what do you know about being a tutor?"

János pauses mid-motion, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. Something unreadable crosses his face for a moment before he resumes cleaning. "I was a father, three times" he replies evenly.

Nadia's grin falter. "Oh... right... sorry, I forgot... You know what happened to them?"

János's fingers tighten slightly around the rag in his hand before he finally looks up at her. His dark eyes are hollow with exhaustion. "Long gone," he says simply. "It's hard to take care of a family when you're an immortal monster. They came out human, I never subjected them to the fungus, I made sure they wouldn't lack anything without me."

Nadia tilts her head, as if studying him with other eyes. "And you haven't seen them again?" She sounds genuinely curious, not mocking.

"A father should never have to see his own children die of old age."

János speaks softly, each word measured and deliberate, as if the very act of saying them physically pains him. His shoulders sag slightly beneath his shabby shirt, the fabric hanging loose on his gaunt frame. He folds the rag and sets it aside with careful precision, his movements betraying something deeply rooted, maybe regret, maybe grief, maybe both.

Nadia watches him for a long moment before exhaling through her nose. "Hm. Noble." There's no mockery in her tone, only something unreadable, something that hovers between sadness and distant understanding. She crouches again, picking up a shard of broken glass with delicate fingers.

"And what about you?" János finally says, breaking the awkward silence. "In all your years of life, you must have had at least one family, right?"

Nadia examines the shard of glass in her fingers, turning it over slowly, making it glimmer for just a second before she tosses it into the dustpan with the others. She doesn't look up as she answers.

"I've had plenty of families," she says. "Some lasted years, some only weeks. That's the problem with people who age normally... always dying, always leaving." She straightens up, brushing dust from her jeans. "They didn't choose immortality like me. When I took the inmortal heart of the fungus, I knew what I was doing. Most people are afraid of living that long."

Her fingers curl into loose fists at her sides. "So I never got attached. Not really. With the exception of..."

She hesitates, and for a brief second, she appears to shrink inward, her body growing smaller, as if shriveling under her own words. Then she shakes her head, laughing softly to herself.

"Anyway. Doesn't matter now." Nadia looks at János again, her face unreadable. "You're lucky. You have memories of your family, good ones, even if they're painful. I don't have that luxury."

János watches her for a long moment, his face betraying nothing. Then, slowly, he nods. "I suppose that is something," he admits. "Come on, tell me, who was that exception? You know my past, I know almost nothing about yours."

Nadia freezes, her face tightening for a fraction of a second before she breathes in sharply through her nose. Her hands clench at her sides as she looks away, glancing at the horizon where the sun dips lower, staining the sky in deep, shifting colors. The light catches on her features, revealing the subtle cracks in her usually impassive demeanor.

117 AD

My first family, my blood family, lived in the south of what was known as Germania. I was a child at the time, my clan had been the first to discover the effects of the mother mushroom and the immortal heart of the mushroom.

They discovered that as long as those who ate that heart lived near the mushroom they would be immortal. But the fungus didn't stay in one place, it traveled underground slowly, so we moved with it.

Everything was going well, we didn't bother anyone, until that fucking empire got in the way. Their soldiers wouldn't let us go on our way, they attacked us constantly.

The elders didn't want to do anything, they feared the consequences of an open conflict, but... some young men from our clan, imbecile teenagers wanting to show that they were brave, attacked one of their outposts.

They came back triumphant, conceited, they thought they had solved all our problems, but in reality... they had screwed up even more.

The empire burned our homes, hunted us like animals, our tribe was strong, but no amount of strength was a match for an entire legion of six thousand soldiers with weapons.

I was a child… I was the only one who escaped, or so I think, in all my years I never met another like me. I hid in the mother mushroom, but eventually came out and began living as a vagabond.

I wandered for years, learning, planning my revenge, the empire would fall and I would stand on its shattered columns and temples…

…And it all started with a spoiled child…

212 AD

I was still young, it was my first 100 years, I discovered that a rich family in Gaul was looking for a tutor for their child.

I went there, I introduced myself as Nadi (Nothing), thinking I would have access to information, to power, to wealth, and to influence. That child, was called Tetricus. He was 11 years old, and he hated everything, it was a pain in the ass to tutor him. His parents never paid attention to him and therefore he broke things, bite people, made noises, shit... He despised the world and everyone in it, including his own parents, whom he saw as nothing more than walking purses for him to spend from.

But he was also a genius, much smarter than I expected, and he knew it. He constantly made fun of me, mocking my accent, my lack of refinement, everything. I tried to be patient, but he pushed me to my limits and I transformed in front of him.

His laughter died mid-breath. He had never seen anything like me before.

Tetricus froze. Not with fear, no, not him. He looked at me like I was a riddle he hadn’t solved yet. And then… he smiled.

“So, you're not from around here.” He said that with a grin full of gaps and arrogance. A little Gaulian prince without a crown.

I expected tears, screams, a child’s trembling repentance. What I got instead was a handshake.

“Teach me how to do that,” he whispered. “Make me... different.”

I should’ve walked away. Burned the estate down and vanished into the hills like I'd done a hundred times before. But instead… I stayed. And I taught him.

Not about immortality. Not the mushroom. Never that.

But I taught him how to watch people. How to hold silence like a knife. How to speak in ways that sow doubt in a crowd before they know they’re bleeding.

He became my little shadow. A squire for a monster queen. We both understood power in ways his father never could. Eventually, Tetricus killed that father. Pushed him down the villa stairs and blamed the wine.

By the time he turned seventeen, the estate was his. By twenty-five, half of Gaul bowed to him. By thirty, he wore a purple cloak and called himself emperor of the Gallic Empire.

And I? I was there the entire time. Behind him. Above him. Beneath him. A whisper in his council chamber. A shadow in his war tent. They called me Maga Vestigia, the Witch of the Footsteps, because they only saw my passing.

It was with him that I designed my master plan, I would raise students who would become emperors of different areas of the empire, we would bleed it dry together, we would attack the heart of evil together.

231 AD

On my travels, I passed through Pannonia, heading to Greece to find another student, but instead, I met an interesting young man there. Aurelian, a violent but promising peasant. He was my favorite student; I even considered him a son to me.

He was nothing like Tetricus. Tetricus was clever, surgical. Aurelian was fire and blood. He didn’t need schemes, he was the scheme. The first time I saw him, he was fighting off two tax collectors with a hoe and a broken amphora. He’d taken five lashes already, but he was still standing, spitting blood through his teeth like it was wine.

He had no name worth remembering. But he had rage. And rage, real rage, the kind that breaks bones and reshapes iron, is something I could work with.

I told him I could give him strength. He laughed and said he already had it. I told him I could give him a future. And he stayed with me.

I stayed with him for many winters. Fed him scraps of language, taught him the names of stars, how to read expressions like maps, how to speak in three tones at once, one for the listener, one for the witness, and one for the blade.

I taught him how to fight like an animal, tactics, tricks, how to use the terrain to his advantage. I loved him... I loved him so much that I revealed the mother mushroom to him and raised him as the successor to my tribe. I gave him one of my furs so he'd come out like me.

And he rose fast. Too fast.

From the farms to the militia. From the militia to the legions. From legion to command. His reputation carried faster than plague, “Aurelian the Unbroken,” they called him. He wore his scars like medals and his enemies like stepping stones.

I told him my plan, how I’d trained Tetricus in Gaul, how I would do the same in in the Eastern provinces. I would raise up rulers like spores, each one growing from me. I told him my hopes that he would become the Emperor of Greece. And when the time was right, the heart of Rome would rot from the inside.

Aurelian was the sword. Tetricus was the pen. Together, they would tear the empire in half. But I needed someone else. Just one more to control the eastern provinces and the plan would be ready.

252 AD

Palmyra was beautiful, an oasis of abundance in the middle of the desert, with so many potential students for my cause.

But one stood out among the rest, a teenage girl, heiress of a noble family, different from all the other girls. She was a fierce girl, she played men's sports, she hunted alone, she beat the hell out of anyone who called her a tomboy. Zenobia.

I used the same tactic as with Tetricus. I introduced myself to her family as a guardian, and they were more than happy to welcome me. Apparently, Zenobia had made the previous ones cry and leave.

Not me.

She tried, of course.

She called me a ghost with bad breath the first week. Locked a cobra in my bedroll. Threw a spear past my face during training and smiled when it nicked my cheek. She wanted to see if I would flinch. I didn’t.

That got her attention. She was all heat and sun, no subtlety, no deception, just raw, honest fury. Unlike Tetricus, who schemed from the shadows. Unlike Aurelian, who roared and took.

Zenobia studied. She asked questions. She read every scroll in her father’s library, then snuck into the temples for more. She sparred until her hands bled. She didn’t want to just win. She wanted to understand the nature of victory.

And for the first time in my endless years, I thought: This one… this one might be better than the rest.

She spoke five languages before she was seventeen. By eighteen, she began sitting in court, correcting her father’s advisors with frightening precision. By twenty, she led hunting expeditions not for sport, but for negotiation. She turned wild tribes into loyal allies with blood pacts and marriage promises she never intended to honor.

She wasn’t interested in becoming a figurehead. She wanted to rule.

And when I told her the truth, about Tetricus, about Aurelian, she didn’t hesitate.

I left her with whispers, techniques, poisons, history, languages, political strategy, spiritual power and persuasion. She rose fast.

And then...

She declared herself empress after marrying the lord of the Palmyrene Empire. Empress of Palmyra. Of Syria. Of the East.

Her husband was weak from illness, he would soon die and leave her as the sole ruler and regent of their young son. Apparently, they both truly loved each other, I thought she was just using him.

270 AD

The moment of truth had arrived; Rome was at its lowest point. All my three students had to do was rebel against the empire and declare an open war. We were just waiting for Aurelian to seize power in Greece. His legions would continue to support him.

But, that's not what happened...

Aurelian didn’t rebel. He didn’t seize Greece. He marched on Rome instead. And they welcomed him.

The Senate, the priests, the desperate masses… they opened the gates like he was a savior. He didn’t take power by force.

He was invited. And with that, my sword became their shield. He took the purple not as a rebel... but as a reformer.

Instead of collapsing the empire, he vowed to restore it.

He even had the audacity to write to me. A letter, sealed in black wax, delivered by a rider half-dead from galloping across the Alps.

"I will fix it from the inside."

Fix it!?

What is a fireman who saves the house that killed your family? A traitor. Aurelian had been mine. Mine. And now he wanted to patch the rot instead of burn it to ash. He betrayed me.

Tetricus followed next. Of course he did.

The Gallic Empire was in chaos, civil war, fracturing provinces, crumbling support. When the pressure came, he didn’t fight. He surrendered. He handed over his title, his men, his land... and bowed.

They say he did it for peace. They say he was rewarded with a governorship and a fat estate. I say he was a coward.

Then Zenobia.

Zenobia, my hope, my flame.

At first she did what I’d hoped, she fought. She defied Aurelian’s ultimatums, rallied the eastern provinces, extended her hand toward Egypt. She declared that Rome was no longer the sun.

She was…

But she was outnumbered. Outmaneuvered. Aurelian, with the full weight of Rome behind him, crushed her.

Just like he’d crushed me. She sent no letters after her defeat. Only silence. Just silence.

My three students, the pen, the sword, and the crown, had become part of the very corpse I had raised them to dissect.

The empire did not fall. I did. And for a long time... I vanished.

I let the years pass like sand through skeletal fingers. I slept beneath temples and ruins. I grew sick of names, of kings, of plans.

Sometimes I’d wake when war came near, taste blood in the wind, feel the shudder of hooves against the earth, but I didn’t act.

What was the point?...

275 AD

Several years later, I returned... I tricked Aurelian's foolish administrator into believing he was going to be executed for falsifying papers. He tricked the generals into believing Aurelian was going to execute them for insubordination. I still had that manipulative streak, hehe.

I would meet him and get my answers, my revenge…

I still remember what happened...

His generals had cornered him when he went to pee in the woods. I was with them, the wise woman who had given them the information, the one who had warned them that their emperor was a mythological beast.

And he... he looked me in the eyes... a fighter as always.

"Why?" His voice cracked. "Why did you betray me like this? You were like a mother to me."

I let the silence stretch like a wound.

"You were supposed to break the empire," I said “Not become it.”

He said nothing. He just stared. Let the silence stretch like a noose around his neck.

One of the generals shifted, nervous. Another spat on the ground. None of them wanted to do it, not really. But I’d fed them just enough fear, just enough lies, that they believed it had to be done.

His jaw clenched. “I tried.”

“No,” I said. “You rebuilt it. You loved it.”

He shook his head. “Because someone had to.”

"And you thought that would make me proud?"

His face, gods, his face, he looked like the boy I had once dragged, broken and bleeding. He had trusted me then. Loved me.

“Proud?... you never loved me,” he said, not shouting, accusing.

...

He moved fast, inhuman. A flash of claws, a scream, a body crumpled. Blood on moss. Another lunged, and Aurelian twisted mid-air, shifted, spine elongating, fur bursting from flesh, bones cracking. Within a heartbeat, the man was gone.

In his place, a beast, towering and sleek. Fangs like obsidian. Gold-and-black fur shimmered like a blade in motion. A god of the hunt.

"You never learned control"

Then I let it happen.

I landed before him, claw to claw.

"You taught me to be a weapon," he growled. "To kill, to obey, to break. But never to feel. Never to choose."

“You were chosen, I gave you everything.”

“You used me.”

We collided, rage and fury, fang and fang.

Claws tore bark from trees, shredded dirt into smoke. I ducked under his slash, bit at his flank, he yowled, rolled, pounced. We tumbled in a whirl of fur and blood.

“Every time I bled, you called it progress. Every time I screamed, you told me to ‘endure.’ I was a child, Nadi!”

I staggered to my feet. “You were the only one who could finish it! Rome needed to be cut from the inside!”

“I didn't want to be your knife,” he said. “I wanted to be your son.”

His voice cracked, a sob within the snarl.

And for a moment, we both paused, panting, steaming in the cold air, our forms reflected in each other's eyes.

“I loved you in the only way I knew how. You were the sharpest thing I ever forged.”

“That’s not love,” he whispered.

I backed away. For the first time in centuries, I hesitated.

That was when the generals returned. Too many. Too fast. They didn’t care who we were. Not anymore. They just saw two beasts.

He tried to roar, to fight, but they overwhelmed him. I didn’t stop them.

And he… he didn’t beg.

Only looked at me, one last time.

"Tu quoque, mater mea?"

…

The body was burned, of course. They said it was assassins. That it was a political feud. They erased my name from every whisper. I became dust again.

But I felt it. Something cracked in my world that day. He was the last of them, Tetricus, Zenobia, Aurelian. My spores. My... childs.

I used them as tools, I killed them…

All gone…

And yet… I remained.

When Nadia turns to see János, she sees him and the children sitting around her, their eyes watering.

"Don't you have anything better to do!? Go clean up, it's getting dark."

She waves her hand dismissively and turns to leave, but János grabs her arm.

He hugs her, everyone hugs her. And she... she smiles and sheds a tear.

She won't repeat the mistakes of her past.

Chapter Text

The sunlight filtered through the curtains of his room. He had been awake for quite some time, thinking… Birds chirped somewhere beyond the window, too cheerful for how weird Sunny felt inside.

He sat cross-legged on the floor of his room, staring at his hands. They looked normal now. Just skin and fingernails. But he remembered the feeling, that moment on the roof. The way his fingers had changed, become something else. The power humming under his skin, the weightless pause just before he’d pulled himself back up.

He flexed his fingers. Nothing happened. No fur. No claws. Just skin.

János knocked once before poking his head in.

“Mooorning sleepy hea… oh, you’re up early,” He held a mug in one hand, steam rising lazily from it.

Sunny nodded. “Couldn’t sleep.”

János padded into the room, his house slippers making a soft scuff against the wood. “Hmm,” he said, handing over the mug. The tea inside smelled like orange peel and honey. “Well, you're screwed. Nadia is coming today to take you to tutoring, and you know how she is, so... you'd better get your energy from somewhere.”

Sunny hesitated, then took a sip. It was warm and sweet and grounding.

“I think something’s wrong with me,” he said quietly.

János didn’t flinch. Didn’t frown. He just sat down on the floor across from him, setting his own cup aside.

“Well, you're a bit skin and bones, but that can be fixed.” he said gently.

“What? No!... I was referring to the... cat hands I got.” Even though he already told him what happened that night days ago, Sunny still feels... weird about it.

János rubbed his chin, looking strangely unsurprised.

“Ah,” he said. “So it begins.”

Sunny blinked. “What begins?”

János tilted his head. “The part where you stop pretending to be ordinary.”

Before Sunny could demand an explanation, another knock came, quicker, more impatient.

Nadia.

She poked her head in without waiting for permission, dark curls falling across her face, eyes sharp as ever.

“Damn, you enter people's houses without asking permission, what's wrong with you?” János asked.

Nadia rolled her eyes, striding in and fixing Sunny with an intense stare. Her gaze was unnervingly direct.

"Get dressed. We have work to do." She turned to János. "And you need to start being more serious about this. You know what happens when you don't take the early signs seriously."

János sighed, rubbing his temples. "Nadia, he's just a kid."

"Who just sprouted claws and climbed up a wall, yeah, I know. So let's not pretend he's still the same little boy who first arrived here." She grabbed Sunny's wrist, yanking him to his feet. "Come on. We need to start training, now."

"Nadia" János calls her with that stern father tone he has when he doesn't like something.

"Mhmmm... ok... ok... I'm just a little very worried about Sunny... in my experience, people who weren't born with their powers have a tendency to get out of control." Nadia looks at Sunny sympathetically, then looks back at János. "I just don't want him to make the same mistakes I've seen in my past, you know how that is right?"

"I have no fucking idea, I don't make mistakes, I learn from the mistakes that others make because of the advice I give them." János smirks, shaking his head and continues monologuing.

“(Sigh)... I'm not going to argue with you when you're like this, Sunny, go change your clothes, I'll bring you your breakfast in a tupperware.” Looking back at her little student, Nadia is stunned.

“ahem... János... the child is white”

János was too busy with his monologue to look up. "Nadia, it's wrong to judge people's skin color.”

"No, idiot, the kid is white. He's pale, like white paint."

“oh…”

It was a relatively quiet day for MR, there were not many patients and those who did arrive were for minor injuries. It seemed that she would even have time to continue her studies of the mother fungus. She loves days like…

BANG!

The sound of the front door being kicked shattered all her fantasies of a quiet day.

She didn't even turn her face to see who it was, there was only one person in the community who exaggerated like that, she would just have to wait for him to arrive at her door and...

BANG!

There it was, like clockwork.

"Janos, for the fourth time, that spot on your butt isn't prostate cancer. You can't even have cancer because of your ability..."

"Our child is dying!"

János screamed so loudly that MR's heart nearly leaped out. In a millisecond, she thought of Sunny, and her concern skyrocketed. She looked back as quickly as she could while grabbing her gear... but all she saw was the idiot, Nadia, and Sunny, seemingly fine, although Sunny was quite pale... very pale in fact.

Nadia corrects, "Dying, dying, he's not, but we're worried about the color of his skin, that's not normal."

MR squinted at Sunny, stepping closer, her gloved hands hovering but not yet touching.

"White skin alone doesn't mean he's dying," she muttered, studying his face. "Let me see your eyes."

Sunny hesitated.

"Come on, child, I’ve seen worse things crawl out of people. Show me."

He lifted his chin slightly, his bangs parting just enough. MR leaned in…

"Ah."

There it was. His left eye was no longer the soft black she remembered. It had changed… become slitted like a cat’s, a narrow red slit gleaming against a silver-gray iris. It looked... unreal. Like something drawn in ink and blood.

János took a step back, a hand over his mouth. “Holy hell, he is going monochrome.”

Nadia looked both fascinated and deeply concerned. “This is happening faster than expected.”

Sunny's voice came calmly. "It started this morning. I touched the mirror and... I noticed the color in my hands starting to fade. I thought it would stay there, but..."

MR hummed. “And the eye?”

“I woke up like this. I didn’t want to say anything. It was already too much for me that everyone was talking about my cat hands.”

“Smart boy,” János said, recovering. “Better to keep the dramatic transformation under wraps until everyone’s had their morning tea.”

But Sunny didn’t laugh. He was staring at his reflection in the glass of a nearby cabinet, and now, in the cold hospital light, they all saw it more clearly

His skin wasn’t just pale, it was desaturated. As if someone had taken a paintbrush and drained all the color from him. His hair was darker, bordering on ink-black. His lips gray. And just above his head, flickering in and out like a glitch in reality… two cat ears. Subtle. Faint. But definitely there. They twitched.

“MR,” Nadia said, voice low. “You’ve seen this before, haven’t you?”

MR sighed. “Exactly this?... no, but I can confidently say it's normal for people like us. In our community, I've seen changes as dramatic or more dramatic than this. Nature has a thing about colors.”

János narrowed his eyes. “What exactly are we dealing with?”

“It’s not a disease,” MR said. “It’s a threshold. It’s changing, yes, but it’s not a coincidence. It’s the manifestation of a deeper self, mixed with the DNA of some cat that was on your clothes when you were given the mother fungus.”

Sunny reflects... a deeper self... he remembers the fantasies he used to have when he was tired of practicing with Mari for the recital, that wonderful world full of color, but not him... he was monochromatic in his dreams as he is now in reality.

That quiet place beneath the tree. Where the sky was purple and the grass was soft, and his friends played in endless summers. But he… he had always been the exception. A moving silhouette in a world of color. They’d never noticed. Maybe because he never wanted them to.

Maybe… he didn’t want to be seen.

“I used to dream like this,” Sunny said quietly, voice barely above the ambient hum of the room. “Back when I… was living as a human. I’d close my eyes and… I was black and white. Everyone else was vibrant. But I wasn’t.”

Nadia's brow furrowed. “You dreamed of being like this?”

“I didn’t choose it,” Sunny said. “It just was. I didn’t even think it was strange. I think... I liked it.”

Suddenly, Sunny feels all the senses in his limbs he was trying to contain unleashed. The cat ears popped out completely. They perked up until they were completely visible, as if his indecision had vanished. A tail curled neatly behind him, streaked with gray and shadow.

János let out a low whistle. “Okay. So… he’s a monochrome cat-boy now. What do we do with that?”

Sunny stood slowly, and as he did, a soft sound filled the air, like a distortion, like vinyl crackle. He didn’t look at anyone. He walked toward the mirror on the wall, the cabinet reflection that had betrayed him earlier.

His reflection didn’t match him anymore.

Who am I now?

Chapter Text

"Sunny, come on, open the door. It's normal... for us." János tried to get Sunny to leave his room.

Sunny stood pressed against the door, arms wrapped around his torso, fingers twitching against his sweater vest.

His new ears flickered at the sound of János calling, but he didn't move. He could still hear the hushed conversation outside.

"...shouldn't force him," Nadia said. "He's processing it."

"Of course he's processing it," János replied, voice hushed but sharp. "But if he locks himself in long enough, it'll feel like a bigger deal than it is. That's not healthy for a kid his age."

"He just needs time," MR cut in. Her words were clinical, matter-of-fact. "The brain's recalibrating. You know how it goes."

"Is what I heard true?" a voice echoes over the others, a voice he hadn't heard in a while, Vecla. "Did Sunny get his abilities?”

The hallway fell silent.

Even János stopped mid-retort.

Sunny’s ears twitched again. Vecla’s voice had a way of slipping into places like water through cracks, sudden and certain. He hadn’t heard her in weeks, maybe longer. He didn’t even know if she’d left or was just... waiting somewhere, as she always seemed to be. Watching without watching.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to make out the shadows beneath the door. Three sets of feet. Then a fourth. Hers.

"Sunny," Vecla said again, gentler this time. “Can I come in?”

Sunny hesitated. Something about her tone, it wasn’t pitying. It wasn’t clinical like MR, or bossy like Nadia, or clumsy-comforting like János. It was... knowing.

He opened the door.

The hallway light spilled into his dim room like honey. Vecla stood there with her arms crossed, her sharp amber eyes scanning him. Unlike the others, she didn’t flinch. She didn’t comment on the tail or the ears or the way the whites of his eyes looked just a bit too gray.

“You look like yourself,” she said, stepping in.

“That’s not supposed to be a compliment,” Sunny muttered.

Vecla shrugged. “Still is.”

The others didn’t follow her in. János looked tempted but MR grabbed his arm and shook her head. Nadia raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Don’t you dare eavesdrop.”

The door clicked shut.

For a long moment, Vecla didn’t say anything. She just looked around, his room, his stacks of notebooks, the cracked mirror he’d covered with a hoodie. Then back at him.

“You’re scared,” she said.

He didn’t deny it.

“Good.”

Sunny shifted on his feet.

“I know what it feels like,” she replied. “To change. To wake up one day and realize you are a different thing from before”

"I don't want to be some... cat monster."

"You're not a monster. You're becoming something more… evolved." Vecla walked past him and sat on the edge of his bed, her gaze flicking up toward the ceiling like she was trying to see through it.

“It’s not about the tail, or the eyes. It’s about what you carry. You’re just seeing it now. The mother mushroom has the ability to make us who we think we really are... plus the DNA of some animal or plant, but those are details ”

“The dreams,” Sunny whispered, throat dry. “I have the colors I had in my dreams”

Vecla smiled faintly. “I knew someone who said dreams are just echoes of truths you haven’t faced yet.” Vecla approaches Sunny and puts her hand on his head.

“Remember when you told me about your accident? When you broke your violin, fought with your sister, and then ran away?”

Vecla’s expression softened, though it was still serious. “Can you tell me how you felt before all that, when you were practicing?”

Sunny sat down slowly, shoulders hunched, fingers now nervously brushing the edge of his tail. It moved instinctively, curling tighter around his ankle.

Vecla waited.

Her hand was still resting gently on Sunny’s head, like she was grounding him in the moment, not forcing anything, just keeping him tethered to something real, something safe.

“I…” Sunny swallowed. “I used to feel small. As if I were living for someone else and not for myself.”

Vecla said nothing, just nodded slowly, encouraging him to keep going.

“I remember… Mari would always tell me to keep my posture straight. To breathe, to feel the notes. And I did. I tried. But it was like… like I was trying to translate something I didn’t understand. The notes were there, the rhythm, but the feeling never came through. Not really. I... just felt like I wasn't enough… I felt like I was holding my friends back.”

His voice was trembling now, quiet and slow.

“I thought something was wrong with me. Like I was just… the shadow of... someone who really deserved to be there.”

Vecla crouched in front of him, eye-level now. “That feeling, that you were less than what people thought you should be… that wasn’t the truth, Sunny. That was the lie.”

Sunny’s hands gripped the fabric of his vest tighter. “Then why does this feel more real than anything else ever has? Why do I feel like I’ve always been like this, even when I wasn’t?”

Vecla smiled. She understood more than she could explain.

“Because this is the part of you you buried. You did it to fit in. You did it to protect yourself. To survive a world that couldn’t make space for what you were becoming. But now… the mother fungus, your dreams, whatever DNA hitchhiked on you, it pulled the mask off. What’s left isn’t fake. It’s just you, unedited. Your feelings.”

Sunny met her eyes. They were bright, but warm.

“Is it going to keep changing me?” he asked. “Am I going to become something else again tomorrow?”

Vecla thought about it. “No,” she said finally. “The big shifts are usually frontloaded. What happens next isn’t a transformation. It’s integration. You’re not losing yourself, Sunny. You’re learning what all your pieces are. And how to carry them.”

Sunny let out a shaky breath. The kind you don’t notice you’ve been holding until it’s gone.

His ears twitched again. This time, not in fear, just reacting. Being.

“I still don’t feel ready.”

“Good,” Vecla said. “That means you’re not delusional.”

She stood, dusting off the back of her pants. “Come outside when you’re ready. I told Nadia to stay calm with the training for a few days.”

Sunny almost smiled.

Vecla paused at the door. “And Sunny?”

He looked up.

“You’re not a monster.”

She left.

Sunny sat there for a long time after, breathing in the silence. It felt like it had shape now. Not empty, but quiet in a way that held him rather than crushed him.

He stood. Slowly. Walked to the mirror and pulled down the hoodie covering it.

The figure staring back still didn’t feel entirely like him. But for the first time, it didn’t feel wrong either.

“I’m still here,” he whispered to the reflection.

And the reflection blinked…

…

“Tock tock”

Sunny was startled by the voice at his window, it was Victor, the lizard boy.

“Hey catboy, wanna to go out?”

Sunny blinked.

Victor grinned from the other side of the glass, his forehead pressed against the pane. He had a loose hoodie soaked from some recent excursion.

“Come on,” Victor hissed. “I’ve been waiting for hours. Or like... fifteen minutes. You owe me an escape.”

Sunny hesitated. “I… I’m not really supposed to go anywhere right now. My tutors are waiting outside my room to see how I am.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Please. You just turned into a beautiful sad monochrome cryptid. You think staying in your room is going to help that? Come on. There’s somewhere I want to show you.”

“And the others?”

“Pfft.” Victor waved a hand. “I told them where I was going and they closed the window on me.”

Sunny hesitated for a heartbeat longer, then cracked the window open. A rush of cool, damp air swept in. He pulled himself through.

Victor helped him out and onto the roof like it was nothing. The night was quiet, almost too quiet, save for the distant hum of the street lights of the community.

Stars hung low in the sky like pinpricks through velvet, but Victor didn’t look up, he looked down.

“Come on,” he said. “This way.”

They slipped down the side of the roof and into one of the unused access tunnels. Sunny had seen these before, mostly blocked off, full of rusted pipes and old graffiti. But Victor moved through them with confidence, as if he’d been here hundreds of times. He ducked beneath a low beam, motioning for Sunny to follow.

“You ever been to the lower boroughs?” he asked, grinning.

“No,” Sunny said, stepping carefully over a half-collapsed pipe. “Didn’t even know there were lower boroughs.”

“Oh hoh,” Victor said dramatically. “It's a separate community, made for aquatics. It can only be accessed through the main lagoon entrance behind the leader's house... but I know of another entrance.”

They came to a hatch covered in algae and strange fungal blooms, glowing faintly in blue and purple pulses. Victor placed a hand on it, and after a long moment, it creaked open with a wet, sighing sound.

Sunny had to blink several times as his eyes adjusted.

Beneath the hatch was an entire world.

It wasn’t just a cave, it was a biome. The stone walls dripped with luminous moss, casting everything in dreamlike colors. Pools of deep, clear water stretched out between bioluminescent plants that looked like soft coral, and across narrow stone bridges were houses carved directly into the walls. The architecture was fluid, almost grown rather than built, with curling shapes and softly glowing runes etched along doorways.

And the people…

Sunny stared.

They were semi-aquatic hybrids, each unique, some with webbed hands, some with fin-like crests, some with smooth, jellyfish-like skin that shimmered with every movement. A girl with translucent scales waved at Victor from across a glowing pond. Sunny could notice how Victor blushed.

Victor turned to Sunny with a grin full of sharp teeth. “Welcome to Tide’s Hollow.”

Sunny took a shaky step forward, tail curling behind him.

“It’s like…”

“A cave under the sea?” Victor offered casually. “Yeah. I thought you might say that.”

Sunny looked at him, startled.

Victor’s grin widened. “C’mon. Let me show you the deep lights. They say they reflect your soul.”

He started running, feet splashing as he crossed the first of many winding bridges.

Sunny followed, breath catching in his throat.

As they ran, Sunny felt his body calling him to run on all fours, like a cat. He saw Victor do the same, but crawling on surfaces.

So... why not?

As he touched the ground with his hands? paws? he felt… good, normal, natural, free…

Sunny let out a surprised laugh as his body folded into a low, fluid sprint. Hands and feet working in tandem, spine rippling with motion, tail counterbalancing each bound, it felt effortless, instinctive. Wind slipped past his whiskers as he surged forward, claws tapping softly against the bridge stone, not scraping. For the first time, this weird new body fit.

Victor glanced back with a grin. “Ohhh, look at you! Catboy’s got his legs under him!”

Sunny panted, breath sharp but exhilarated. “This is… this is insane.”

“You mean awesome,” Victor said, vaulting onto a vertical wall and scrambling along it like a gecko before flipping back down to splash beside him.

They skidded to a stop beneath a low, arched tunnel that opened into a deep basin. The water here was still, impossibly clear, and black as space.

But far beneath the surface, strange glowing shapes floated, schools of lightlike fish, trails of drifting spores, glowing ribbons that pulsed and shimmered with colors Sunny had only seen in dreams.

These were the Deep Lights.

They looked like constellations… moving, living constellations… and each pattern seemed to shift when he looked directly at it.

Sunny stepped to the edge, drawn forward.

“Beautifull” Victor said, more quietly now.

“I didn’t know this was here,” Sunny whispered. “None of my tutors ever mentioned it.”

“Yeah, that’s not surprising,” Victor muttered, squatting next to him. “This place isn't in the official guidebook. It's only accessible to acuatics."

They stood in silence for a moment, watching the lights.

Then Victor leaned back, expression shifting. Less wonder now. More mischief.

“I wasn’t completely honest with you,” he said. “There's a reason the rest didn't want to come.”

Sunny arched a brow. “Shocker.”

Victor held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Just a little omission. See, there is another reason I wanted to come down here tonight.”

Sunny narrowed his eyes. “Which is?”

Victor looked off across the pool, toward a far wall where a sculpted stone structure curled like a spiral shell. A large, ornate entrance was guarded by soft tendrils of bioluminescent algae, very much on purpose. Fancy. Exclusive.

That was really a mansion!, it made János's look like an old shack.

“That,” Victor said, pointing. “Is where Karla Ambarino and her little entourage hang out.”

Sunny blinked. “Karla Ambarino?” 

“A snobby rich girl with the voice like… like someone vacuuming a violin,” Victor said.

Sunny laughed despite himself.

Victor’s grin flattened slightly. “You’ve heard how she treats people, right?”

“It's the first time I've heard of her.” Sunny said. 

“She parades her ‘friends’ around like objects. She treats everyone by looking down on them, she doesn't mind destroying anything because she has the money to excuse herself. I thought the council told her to stop.”

Victor’s tone darkened. “But she doesn’t stop. Not really. Not when no one’s watching. The one who suffers the most is her twin. She manipulates him, uses his sensory stuff as an excuse to isolate him, and then tells everyone he’s lucky to have her. Like he wouldn’t be a thousand times better off without her."

Sunny’s tail lashed behind him. “So… your intentions?”

Victor’s grin came back, sharp and sharklike now. “We’re going to show her what real bioluminescence looks like. Specifically, a custom blend of glowmoss pollen and surface-fire coral spores. It's harmless. Mostly. But she’s gonna look like a radioactive jellybean for days.”

“You made it?” Sunny asked, a bit awestruck.

Victor nodded proudly. “Cooked it up with Naomi. The beau… the girl we saw early. She backed out last minute, said she didn’t want to get blacklisted from 'sea-girl social society.’ So now it's just me. And you.” He gave Sunny a meaningful look.

Sunny stared at the sparkling water.

His tail twitched.

“…Where exactly are we putting it?”

Victor grinned. “In her vent system. Right before her gala begins. Tonight.”

Sunny blinked. “Wait. Tonight? Are you planning all this at the last minute?”

Victor nodded. “And I can’t do it alone. The vents are vertical. But you? I saw you. You’ve got grip. Flexibility. And that adorable little ninja-cat confidence.”

Sunny looked from the pool to Victor. To the Pearl Room. To the Deep Lights.

Shit.

Chapter Text

They crouched behind the coral-sculpted balustrade of an upper walkway, just outside the Pearl Room.

The sound of soft chamber music drifted out, warped slightly by the rich acoustics of a high quality sound system. Bioluminescent chandeliers flickered within. Karla’s voice carried over the others like an uninvited noise.

“...and then I told him, 'Darling, I don’t do sponge-textures. I’m not a sponge person.’ Can you believe he tried to gift me spore lace? I’d die before wearing taupe biotextiles...”

Sunny has no fucking idea what they're talking about.

Victor gagged theatrically. Sunny elbowed him. But deep down he thinks about doing the same thing.

The vial of pollen and spores glowed gently in Victor’s palm, the liquid inside swirling in luminous golds and toxic greens. “All right, ninja-cat. You see that funnel-shaped growth up there?” He pointed to a small, twisting vent pipe disguised as a sculptural flourish. “That’s connected to her ‘aromatic mist-diffuser.’ You're going to climb up there, get into the vent and deposit the mixture in there, in the mechanism-thing, and when Karla activates her vanity cloud mid-gala, boom. Jellybean.”

“Wait, just me? What are you going to do?”

"Someone has to be on the lookout just in case, hehe"

Sunny stares at Victor with his signature poker face.

"Okay, okay, don't tell anyone, but... I... my skin gets sensitive with extreme humidity, I get embarrassing sores."

Sunny took a deep breath. “And I’m climbing how far up the side of that?”

Victor gave him a mock-thoughtful look. “Oh, maybe twenty feet? It’s not far. And hey, you’re basically built for this now.”

Sunny's claws flexed unconsciously against the smooth, damp stone. A tiny flick of his tail. His ears twitched as he calculated the route handholds, outcroppings, algae coverage. He could do this.

He turned to Victor. “Cover me.”

Victor saluted. “With pleasure, Agent Catboy.”

Sunny rolled his eyes and took off in a crouching sprint, leaping gracefully onto a sloped coral column. His fingers found tiny ridges and organic grooves. He climbed like he’d done it all his life, legs tight to the wall, tail balancing each motion, body moving in silence except for the soft rustle of his sweater vest. Sunny didn't know why that felt so natural, as if he had been born to do that.

Victor watched, slack-jawed for a moment. “Damn,” he muttered. “Okay, seriously adorable.”

Sunny reached the vent. It was slightly warm, already preheating the scent dispersal mechanism. He unscrewed the cap with steady hands and held up the vial. He looks down.

Victor gave a thumbs-up.

Sunny climbs into the vent with great ease. Victor was right, the place was extremely humid and hot at the same time. He sees the steam mechanism ready for operation, he tipped the vial.

The fluid dripped in slow, viscous spirals, instantly absorbed by the fungal mesh lining the vent. It was done. All he has to do now is go back and...

CRASH!!!!

The vent beneath him gave way, and he fell straight down into the ballroom. Fortunately, he's a cat, and everyone knows that cats always land on their... feet…

All eyes were on Sunny, crouched low in the center of the marble floor, steam rising around him in ghostly tendrils. The bioluminescent chandeliers glinted off his silver-streaked fur and wide, shocked eyes. His tail lashed once behind him reflex? instinct? He stood up slowly.

Several of the aquatic girls blinked in awe. One whispered, “Is that the human child they rescued and gave the mother mushroom to? He’s cute.”

A group of attendants gasped softly.

Then…

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Karla Ambarino’s voice sliced through the stunned crowd, cold and silk-slick. She stood at the top of the coral staircase, her shimmering white gown clinging to her form like seafoam, the sleeves pulsing faintly with phosphorescent threads.

She began descending, one hand trailing lightly along the carved railing.

Sunny backed up a step.

Her eyes fixed on him, alien-silver and unblinking.

“A stray?” she said mockingly, circling him like a barracuda. “No... you’re that little orphan boy, aren’t you? The one who hides in the shelter of those two old skeletons and can't look anyone in the eye.”

Sunny didn’t answer. His heart was thudding like a drum inside a flooded ship.

“But look at you now,” she said, smiling. “Claws, tail, the whole tragic hybrid package. Very dark-forest-chic. You looked so thin and battered in the hospital bed, but just as cute as you do now.”

She was close now. Too close.

Suddenly, she leaned in. Her gills fluttered faintly, detecting his stress. “I’d say you’re out of your depth, darling.”

Then her eyes flicked upward… right at the vent…

A single glowing drop fell onto her gown.

Karla blinked.

Everyone followed her gaze.

The color began to bloom across the fabric… green, then gold, then lurid, flickering pinks and oranges. It spread rapidly, climbing her skin in jagged lines and bioluminescent splotches, like a mad watercolor painting under blacklight. She looked like a carnival popsicle or a clown.

“What… what is this…” Her voice cracked. Her former confidence in speaking was now turned to despair.

Victor's voice echoed faintly from somewhere, distant, possibly fleeing. “NOW would be a good time to run, Sunny!!”

Too late…

Karla screamed.

Not a shriek, a chitinous, vibrating, inhuman wail that resonated in Sunny’s spine.

She reached behind her and slammed her palm onto a hidden coral pressure-plate near the staircase.

The walls shuddered. There was a loud mechanical hiss.

And then… gurgling. Water. Rushing.

Pipes burst open. Steam vents roared. The ballroom lights flickered and dimmed as emergency runes ignited along the floor in panicked red glyphs.

“You little dirt-born freak!” Karla howled, her face contorting. Her pupils dilated to slits. Her jaw split wider than it should have, revealing rows of needle teeth. Gills flared and limbs began to stretch unnaturally.

She was transforming… her skin turning mirror-slick and reflective, her body narrowing and elongating into something dagger-shaped and deadly. Her gown dissolved into silken strands as fins burst through her arms and legs.

Karla Ambarino was no longer just a spoiled heiress. She was a fully-morphed abyssal monster. And she wanted blood.

Sunny ran…

He darted past startled guests, claws scrabbling on flooded marble, tail slicing the air behind him. The rising water sloshed at his ankles. Pipes ruptured all around, spraying mist and brine into the air.

The lights dimmed further, the Deep Lights flickering in alarm. Shadows twisted. And Karla followed…

Her movements were silent and fast, darting through flooded hallways like a torpedo, the reflections of her silver form rippling off every surface. Her mirrored skin made her hard to track, always visible only after she’d already moved.

“Sunnyyyy…” she called in a sickly singsong.

He turned a corner, and slipped. His claws scraped against algae-slick tile, just barely catching a railing. He vaulted up onto a second-floor balcony, using every ounce of feline instinct to stay balanced.

Where the hell was Victor?

Sunny turned toward the exit…

And there she was, on the wall, horizontally, fins splayed, tongue lashing out like a whip of glass.

“You think you can just humiliate me?” Karla hissed. “Ruin my gala?! You surface freaks always think you’re so clever!”

Sunny backed up, heart hammering.

But she lunged.

The chase was on again.

This time through tighter corridors, deeper into the mansion’s bowels where salt and metal and age clung to everything.

He didn’t know if Victor had fled or gotten caught.

He didn’t know how much water was left before this place turned into a tank.

He only knew one thing… if he slowed down, if he faltered, if he lost focus for a second…

He’d be fish food.

Sunny just had to... had to... just a little bit more

…

Sunny hid in a random room. He slammed the door shut behind him, chest heaving, the tips of his fingers and claws trembling. The room was cool and dry, shockingly so after the flooded chaos outside. He staggered a few feet in and stopped, stunned.

The room was… beautiful.

Not in the gilded, arrogant way the rest of Karla’s house was, but intricate, quiet, and full of care. Model buildings filled the space in staggered levels, lit from beneath with tiny lights, neon signs, flickering lamp posts, glowing windows. Roads crisscrossed under wire bridges. A river ran through it, made of rippling blue mylar and tiny stones. It was a city. A world, laid bare.

In the center, hunched over a tiny structure made from resin and bottle caps, was a boy.

He didn’t turn as Sunny entered. He just kept painting, carefully applying detail to a window frame smaller than a fingernail.

Sunny froze, unsure. Then the boy spoke without looking. “Shoes off. The mountains scratch.”

Sunny blinked. “What?”

The boy finally looked up.

His eyes were strange and clear, silvery but soft, not like Karla’s. His expression was unreadable, but not unkind.

“You’re dripping,” the boy said, pointing. “Bad for the electricity. Wipe your tail, too.”

Sunny quickly toed off his shoes and padded across the narrow walkway between models. “Are you…?”

Ben nodded once.

“Karla’s… brother?”

Ben didn’t answer that. Instead, he gestured toward a covered pit near one edge of the room. “Crawlspace under the subway line. Slide the trash bins aside. You can fit.”

Sunny didn’t hesitate. He slipped through the narrow opening just as the hallway outside lit up with the rhythmic flicker of reflective skin.

Then…

BOOM

The door slammed open.

“Karla…” Ben said without looking up, his voice rising in warning. “Boundary!”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Karla snapped. Her voice was ragged now, distorted from her half-shifted form. Her gills pulsed at her neck. Her arms were sleek with chrome-like scales. The puddle of water at her feet hissed softly on the floor.

She didn’t even glance around the room.

Just locked eyes with Ben.

“Did you see a little freak in here? Cat boy, furry, fast feet, very punchable?”

Ben calmly returned to painting a tiny billboard. “No one came in.”

Karla’s mouth curled. “Ben. You’re so bad at lying. Seriously. It’s embarrassing.”

Ben set down his paintbrush.

Sunny, watching through a sliver in the trash bin, could barely breathe.

Karla began stepping closer, dragging her soaked fins against the carpet.

“I let you have your space, your toys, your… your trash castles,” she said, sweeping a hand toward the model city. “And this is how you thank me? Lying for some surface rodent?”

Ben’s voice dropped, low and flat. “Don’t touch it.”

She smirked. And, of course, touched it. Her long, clawed finger poked one of the buildings. It bent. Cracked.

Sunny winced.

Ben’s whole frame had gone stiff, knuckles white, but he didn’t move.

“Tell me where he is,” Karla whispered. “And I’ll leave this place alone.”

A long silence passed. Ben reached into his pocket. Pulled out a tiny spray bottle. “Last warning,” he said calmly.

Karla rolled her eyes.

Psssshhht.

He sprayed it right in her face.

Karla screamed, recoiling. “Is that… what the… Ben!”

“It’s distilled coral vinegar,” Ben said, very evenly.

Karla shrieked again, staggering back, rubbing her face.

Ben leaned forward slightly, voice sharp as steel now. “You’re ruining my atmosphere. Leave.”

And for the first time, Karla hesitated. She glared around, lips pulled back from her needle teeth, then hissed…

“This isn’t over.”

And left.

The door slammed behind her.

Ben stood still for a long moment, then looked at the trash bins.

“You can come out now,” he said.

Sunny scrambled from his hiding spot. "I... thank you very much"

Ben shrugged and picked up his brush again. “She ruins things when no one’s watching. I make sure someone’s always watching.”

Sunny looked around again at the intricate city, the peaceful glow, the perfectly spaced towers.

Ben glanced up.

Sunny smiled faintly.

It was almost as if no words were needed for the two boys to communicate with each other.

“And for the record... I like cats. Just not when they drip on my canyon district.”

Sunny chuckled softly, wiping his tail with a cloth Ben tossed him.

They sat in silence a moment, the city lights humming softly between them.

Somewhere beyond the room, the mansion groaned as more water poured in.

But here, in the quiet flicker of someone else’s world, Sunny was safe… for now.

…

Eventually, Sunny emerged from the room. Everything in the hallway was a different world; it seemed the water had stopped just long enough to keep it from entering Ben's room.

I still had to be careful and figure out a way to escape.

Sunny crept forward, ears flicking at every sound, claws retracting and extending with each padded step.

The mansion had changed. Gone was the pristine, gaudy elegance. It now felt… abandoned, as if something ancient and hungry had taken root beneath its marble bones. Mold bloomed along the ceilings like rot-colored lace.

He passed the ballroom again.

It was knee-deep in black water, bioluminescent particles still swirling from the aftermath of Victor’s prank. The remnants of Karla’s abandoned gala… drinks, shattered decorations, waterlogged slippers, floated like the ghosts of a party that had screamed its way into ruin.

A soft splash behind him made Sunny freeze.

He turned, heart hammering…

Nothing.

Then…

“You little mutant rat.”

The voice slithered from behind a pillar.

Karla stepped out slowly, her half-shifted form gleaming. Her skin shimmered with silver plates, her teeth needle-thin, her gills pulsing with anger. Her eyes had that deep-sea shimmer now… no longer human, no longer pretending.

She smiled.

“You embarrassed me,” she purred, slowly advancing. “In my house. You dared.”

Sunny backed away. “It wasn’t even my idea…!”

“I know,” she hissed. “It was Victor. But you did it. You’re the hand. The weapon. So now…”

She lunged.

Sunny turned and ran, bolting through the corridor, claws scraping for traction on the wet marble. His tail whipped behind him for balance as he skidded through a doorway and vaulted over a collapsed chandelier. She was fast… unnaturally fast, fins slicing through the air, limbs moving with sinuous grace.

She screamed, something guttural and wrong, as she launched herself down the hallway after him.

“SUNNY!” a voice barked, sharp and commanding.

From the far end of the corridor, a silhouette burst through the mist.

János!

His coat flared as he skidded into view, rapier already drawn, glowing faintly blue at the edge. Behind him, landing in a crouch with feline grace, was Nadia, no longer fully human.

Sunny stumbled toward them just as Karla surged forward for a final strike.

János didn’t hesitate.

With a flick, his rapier arced through the air… sharp, precise… and Karla barely avoided the tip, shrieking as it sliced a scale from her shoulder.

Nadia leapt past Sunny in a blur and collided with Karla mid-lunge, the two slamming into a pillar with a deep, cracking boom. Nadia’s claws tore across Karla’s side, not enough to maim, but enough to warn.

“Back. Off,” Nadia growled, voice guttural, more cat than woman.

Karla hissed, slipping out of reach with a serpentine motion, limping now. Her shimmering skin pulsed with threat. But she knew. She was outmatched.

“Fine,” she spat. “Take him. But next time, I won’t be caught off guard.”

She disappeared into the shadows with a slash of her tail and a final hiss of steam.

Sunny stood, panting.

János sheathed his rapier with a metallic click. “Really, Sunny?”

“Victor said it would be fun.”

“He always says shit like that,” Nadia muttered, returning slowly to her human form with a ripple of fur and skin.

János stepped forward and clapped a hand on Sunny’s shoulder. “Glad you’re in one piece, though.”

Sunny blinked. “How did you find me?”

“Victor told us everything,” Nadia said. “Sort of. Through a very chaotic voicemail. And screaming. He might have also been falling down a pipe.”

János gave him a tight smile. “Let’s go home, cat-boy”

And Sunny, drenched, bruised, and still shaking, nodded.

He didn’t protest.

Chapter Text

The snowy forest loomed ahead of the couple as they walk. The smells of the forest are a breath of fresh air for both of them despite the cold.

Mari stood at the edge of the path, shoulders tight beneath her coat. Her backpack hung heavily from one arm, basic necessities and some material to guide them and not get lost in the thicket.

Beside her, Hero adjusted the straps on his own pack and scanned the path ahead. He had packed carefully: water, first aid, snacks, flares. He was always prepared. She loved that about him, especially now, when she felt anything but…

“You good?” he asked gently.

She nodded. “As good as I can be.”

He didn’t press further. Just gave a soft hum and led the way forward, their boots crunching softly on the damp trail.

The forest swallowed them in quiet…

It wasn't like the hikes they used to take, it was very muddy and uncomfortable to navigate, and the snow wasn't doing them any favors either. That silence was the worst, it was dense and watchful.

As they walked, Mari thought about the last time Sunny had been at the hidden pond. She remembered the fun they used to have, the memories... who would have thought that the forest surrounding them would make her little brother disappear.

And now…

…

What a beautiful flower… an indigo flower, very strange… she has never seen it before…

…That flower… rose from the snow... strong, resilient... maybe if she comes a little closer…

“Don’t go there,” Hero said gently, as if reading her thoughts. “Let’s just focus on what’s ahead.”

Mari nodded again. She didn’t trust her own voice.

Kel had spread out a crinkled old map on the table. It was covered in highlighter lines and sticky notes, each one marking a path already checked, or an area too dangerous to explore. Aubrey leaned over it, ponytail swaying as she scribbled new notes in the margins.

“Okay,” she muttered, chewing on her pen cap. “So we’ve got the creek trail covered. The trail west to the hidden pond is where Mari and Hero are now.”

Basil sat at the other end of the table, legs pulled up into the chair with him, arms around his knees. “Don’t forget the south loop trail. It curves behind that place like a quarry. We never checked that one completely.”

Kel frowned. “That area’s all rocks and cliffs. He wouldn’t have gone there.”

“He could have,” Basil said sharply. “Especially if he didn’t know where he was going.”

A tense beat passed before Aubrey slid the map closer to him. “Mark it, then.”

Basil hesitated, then grabbed a pen and drew a shaky circle around the trail in red.

They worked in silence for a while, only the sound of pens and the occasional frustrated sigh filling the room.

Their main theory… the only theory they had, was that Sunny had found one of those paths that lead to highways and headed for some town. The theory had plenty of holes and dead ends, and they knew it... but it was the only thing that gave them hope.

“We’ll need to split the rest of paths into zones,” Aubrey said. “They are divided in too many ways to be traveled only once.”

Kel nodded. “We can rotate. Two search, the others check with nearby towns and gas stations for sightings.”

“Mari and Hero won't let us go, they don't want us to even go near the forest, let alone walk the highways,” Basil muttered.

Aubrey gave him a quick glance. “But... I feel kind of useless just writing on a map.”

Basil didn’t look up. “Besides, I’m not going into that forest again. Not since...”

There was no judgment in her voice when she answered. “Okay.”

The path thinned. Trees grew closer together, their branches reaching down like they wanted to touch. Mari paused, one hand on a moss-covered trunk, the other gripping a map Hero had copied from the main one.

“It’s different,” she murmured.

Hero stopped a few paces ahead. “What is?”

“The forest. We already traveled this path yesterday, but now it seems... changed?”

He looked around. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I feel it too.”

It was subtle, the trees were strange, they were the same as the last time he had left marks, but it felt as if they had been rotated on their own axis. The deeper they went, the more it felt like stepping out of their world.

Mari suddenly crouched.

“Wait…” she said. “Here.”

She pointed to a faint print in the mud. It was small, catlike. Clawed.

Hero squinted. “Could be a fox.”

“Maybe.” But Mari didn’t sound convinced. She traced it with her fingers, and felt her heart start to race.

Something had been here.

Not long ago.

Kel stood by the window, arms crossed as he stared out into the woods beyond the backyard. He couldn’t shake the image of Sunny’s face. The old version, quiet, blank, but now paired with the recent version from the posters.

“He’s out there,” he muttered. “I know it.”

“Then we keep looking,” Aubrey said from behind him. “According to the map, Hero and Mari should have arrived at the point where they left off yesterday. Further ahead there should be some sort of... forest clearing.”

Basil felt strange hearing that, he felt happy because now everyone was helping in some way, but something... wasn't…

“I have to go to the... excuse me for a moment”

The moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind him, Basil slid down to the cold tile floor, his back pressed hard against it, knees up, fingers clawing at the edges of his sleeves like they could hold him together.

The bathroom light buzzed faintly above, too bright, he turned it off. His breath hitched, uneven. He hated the silence in here.

He stared at the floor. One crack between the tiles. Then another. His thoughts raced faster than he could breathe.

They always leave.

Mari had vanished after Sunny went missing. No going outside. No voice. Just gone. At first, Basil thought maybe she was broken, too. Maybe she needed space.

But time passes without stopping for anyone

He felt stupid for holding on, for hoping she'd reach out. That she’d come back and say something, anything. But she didn’t.

Not until now. His throat burned.

“You left us,” he’d told her. He hadn’t meant to say it so bluntly. He hadn’t meant to sound like a child.

But he was. A child watching everyone he loved drift away.

He slammed the heel of his palm against his temple once. Twice. Trying to stop the thoughts. But they only twisted deeper.

I could’ve stopped him.

That last argument. Sunny walking off while Basil stood frozen, unsure, terrified to follow.

Why didn’t I run after him? Why didn’t I do anything?

He squeezed his eyes shut, and suddenly he was back there again. The same nightmare that has recently plagued his dreams, the sound of Sunny’s footsteps squelching in the wet leaves. The thick fog curling through the trees. Basil’s feet rooted to the earth.

And then… nothing.

He hadn’t gone after him. Hadn’t called for help.

His fingers curled tightly around his knees, nails biting into denim.

“I left him.”

The words cracked out of him, hoarse and brittle. He barely recognized his own voice.

“I left him. Just like everyone leaves me.”

He also thinks about the last time he saw them both, before they left him at his grandmother's house… and never came back.

A choked sound escaped, somewhere between a sob and a scream. His shoulders began to shake.

He buried his face in his arms and cried.

Big, ugly sobs that tore out of his chest like they’d been waiting all year. His breath stuttered. All the careful quiet he'd wrapped around himself finally snapped.

He hated himself for it. For being so weak. For needing them so much.

For still wishing Mari had stayed with them without caring for herself first.

For loving his friend but not having the strength to do anything to help him.

For being afraid he might be the reason Sunny was gone.

I... I abandoned you… Sorry… Sunny…

The path finally seemed to open up before them, a slight clearing in which they could walk without having to pass through any bushes or trees.

“According to Aubrey's instructions, if we continue straight east from here we should reach the first entrance to a highway.” Hero held the compass while Mari pointed out the map for reference. 

“We could cross here and go straight ahead so as not to make so many turns, although I think that if Sunny had gone through here he would have gone this way…”

Hero didn't answer right away. He watched her, the way her hands trembled just slightly, how her eyes flicked over the map like she was trying to memorize it completely, as if every inch of it might reveal some missed clue.

Her voice was level, but he could hear the strain underneath it. The way she hadn’t taken a full breath in hours. The way she kept blaming herself without saying the words out loud.

“Mari,” he said quietly.

She didn’t look up. “We don’t have time to slow down. The clearing’s a good sign. If we keep up the pace, we can check the highway edge by sunset and…”

“Mari,” Hero said again, firmer this time. “Stop.”

She blinked and looked at him, brows furrowed like she’d only just remembered he was there. Her mouth parted to protest, but he cut her off gently.

“You can’t keep doing this.”

She stiffened. “Doing what?”

“Carrying everything like it’s your fault. Like you're the only one who can fix it.”

Mari’s lips tightened. “It is my fault, Hero. If I hadn’t left. If I had been stronger…”

“Don’t,” he said, stepping forward. “Don’t do that to yourself. We all could’ve done more. We all made mistakes. But you didn’t make Sunny disappear.”

“I scream at him… I wasn’t there!” she snapped suddenly, voice cracking. “I was supposed to be there, I was supposed to keep him safe. I’m his big sister. That was my job.”

She turned away, pressing a hand to her forehead, breathing hard.

Hero stepped closer. “And who was supposed to keep you safe, Mari?”

She didn’t respond.

“Do you remember what we talked about?” he said. “You are human, don't carry the world on your shoulders. You’ve always been the one holding everything together, even when you were breaking apart inside. But that’s not fair to you. You’re allowed to feel to.”

Mari’s shoulders trembled. She gripped the map tighter, like letting go of it would mean letting go of her purpose.

“If we don’t find him,” she whispered, “I don’t know what I’ll do, Hero. I don’t know who I am without him. I don’t think I deserve to come back home without him.”

Hero’s heart ached. He stepped forward and gently took the map from her hands, folding it slowly. Then he pulled her into a hug.

Mari resisted at first… tense, stiff… but then she melted into him, her arms coming up to clutch the back of his coat. Her breath hitched against his shoulder.

“You do deserve to come home,” he murmured. “Even if we don’t find him today. Even if it takes a hundred more tries. You’re not doing this alone. None of us are.”

Mari didn’t answer, but the weight in her chest loosened slightly, just enough for her to cry.

And Hero held her, like he had so many times before, in all the quiet moments after pain.

They stayed like that for a while, surrounded by trees and wind and sky.

Then, Mari sniffled and pulled back slightly, wiping her face. “Okay,” she said softly, her voice steadier now. “Let’s keep going.”

Hero nodded. “But we rest when we need to. And we stop blaming ourselves.”

Mari managed a tiny, worn-out smile. “Deal.”

They started forward again, the map safely tucked away in Hero’s bag this time. The clearing grew wider ahead of them, and somewhere in the distance, the sound of… a car? No… a motorcycle…

Wh…

A motorcycle is heading straight for them!

Hero instinctively hugged Mari as if trying to protect her from the impact with his body.

The sounds of the dirt being shaken by the motorcycle coming to an abrupt stop was all they could hear.

…

The impact didn't come. When Hero opened his eyes, he saw only the motorcycle in front of him, literally mere inches away.

“What the hell are you kids doing here!?”

The man took off his motorcycle helmet, revealing that he could be in his 30s or so. When he got off his motorcycle he looked like a tall, lanky man with wild, messy brown hair.

Chapter Text

“Authorities are still searching for what happened on Hamilton Walker Street a few days ago. The only clue to this mysterious crime was the 911 call in which the gruesome scene could be heard. However, no bodies of either of the missing men have yet been found. We ask viewers and community members to remain alert and contact authorities if you have any information that could help…”

The elderly man turns off the TV and continues mopping.

“Damn, I knew something like this was going to happen in that town. The cops didn't do anything about those brats who go out at night.”

The man soaks the mop in the bucket once more before continuing his train of thought.

“Did I already tell you about the time some wretches mugged me at that dump in town? I was buying some things at Herman's when…”

The man turns around to see his nephew on the counter, sleeping like the lazy bum he always is. He hits him on the arm with the mop handle.

“Ahhh!, man, what's wrong with you?”

“Man? I'm your uncle, damn it, have respect for me and don't fall asleep on the job. Just for that you're also going to do the night shift with Ramos.”

“Nooooou, that guy is always with his trivia, please don't send me to him.”

“That will teach you to value this day job that I gave you because you are my nephew.”

The man continues mopping. The day seems to be going slowly.

Nadia stuffed another shirt into the side pouch of her already bloated camping backpack and muttered something in german under her breath, probably a curse.

Sunny stood near the door, pretending to inspect a scratch on the wooden frame. He glanced at her, then back at the invisible scratch.

She turned just slightly toward him, and he bolted.

No eye contact. That was key. If she saw him idle, she'd ask him to carry something heavy or weird like the giant bag of rope she kept for no explained reason.

He slipped back into the house and made his way toward the kitchen, where János was checking the contents of a tin lunch box. Jerky. Dried fruits. Some weird, crumbly biscuit thing.

Still no one had told him what was happening.

He cleared his throat. “So... what are we doing exactly?”

János didn’t look up. “Camping.”

“Right. I got that part.”

János finally glanced at him, that amused glint in his tired eyes. “You’ll like it. It’s good for your legs. Good for your eyes.”

“Okay but… what do I pack? What are we even going for?”

“You’ll need your gloves. The thick ones that I got for you,” János added. “We’re heading to the western ridge. Tall trees. Good for jumping.”

Jumping?

Sunny blinked. “Wait. You want me to jump through trees?”

“Swing. Grip. Climb. Move like a cat. Fast. Quiet. Trust your instincts. Like Nadia when she's a furry, hehe” János grinned. “It’s like a challenge.”

Sunny stared.

János closed the tin box with a snap. “You’ve done more than you realize kiddo.”

A moment later, Nadia walked in with her hair tied up, backpack strapped tight, and a long walking stick over one shoulder like it was a sword. “Let’s go,” she said. “We have sunlight and a long hike ahead.”

...

They didn’t take the truck. They walked. Although it wouldn't fit either, because of the thick forest.

Through snowy paths, across little frozen creeks, past tall reeds that brushed against Sunny’s arms. The forest grew quieter the deeper they went, and Sunny stopped trying to guess where they were headed.

Every now and then, Nadia handed him a bottle of water or János pointed to a mushroom and told him not to eat it unless he wanted to see the ancestors.

After about two hours, they stopped at a clearing where the trees grew so high they looked like white cathedral pillars. Nadia dropped her bag and stretched. János leaned on a tree.

“This is the spot,” Nadia said.

Sunny looked around. “What do you mean? For what?”

“For our last day,” she said, a little too quickly.

János picked up from there, voice softer than usual. “This is the last time we’ll take you out like this.”

Sunny’s stomach did a weird twist. “What!?”

“You’ve grown,” Nadia said, pulling out some gloves from her side pouch and tossing them to him. “You’re not the same boy we found.”

“You’ve made friends, earned respect, developed skills. Vecla says you’re ready.”

Sunny looked between them. “Wait... so this whole trip is just... a goodbye?”

“Not a goodbye,” János said. “More like... a celebration. Your new chapter.”

“You’ll still see us,” Nadia added, but her voice had that distant tone, like she was already somewhere else.

“Wait, you two!? I'll say goodbye to both of you?... I didn’t know I was going to leave you both,” Sunny mumbled.

“That’s because you weren’t supposed to think about it,” Nadia said. “You’d overthink it. You always do.”

Sunny looked down at the gloves in his hands. His fingers curled around them slowly.

“And now I go live near Vecla?” he asked.

János nodded. “You’ll have your own space. A place closer to the ‘regular monster people’. She’ll help you finish what we started. You'll live like a normal kid.”

Sunny wasn’t sure what he felt.

Sad? Nervous? Relieved?

“I didn’t even get you guys a gift,” he said lamely.

“You being here is the gift,” János said with a chuckle. “Now. Into the trees, Little Tiger.”

“Time to jump,” Nadia said, already climbing one of the thick trunks with effortless ease. “Or you can cry about it later. I recommend after you’re done falling.”

Sunny didn't reply to her joke, he's just thinking about how this'll be the last time with her.

...

The forest canopy above shimmered in the light.

He took a breath, then ran.

“There's a hidden storage shack a mile and a half from here. Your final test will be there. Race you over there.”

Nadia quickly transformed and started the race. He was happy about that, it was always fun to use his powers with Nadia, but he couldn't shake the feeling of... losing them.

Chapter Text

There is nothing worse than physical exertion in the snow. The wind was sharp by the time they reached the storage shack.

It sat nestled between a ring of thin, ghost-white trees, more moss than wood. A quiet place, half-swallowed by the forest. The old tin roof shimmered with dew and patches of lichen, and the door creaked open before Sunny could even catch his breath.

János stood there casually, sleeves rolled up, smudges of grease on his fingers as he leaned over a black-and-red motocross bike.

Sunny blinked, panting. “Wait… how are you here already?”

János didn’t even look up. “I know shortcuts.”

“That’s not an answer,” Sunny mumbled, but János only grinned.

“Come on. Help me get the chains on the tires. Snow’s coming back soon.”

Sunny squinted at the sky. It was true… gray clouds were coiling in the west, silent and heavy.

He moved over automatically, kneeling beside the wheel while János showed him how to hook the chains. The metal links clinked together in the quiet, rhythmic and grounding.

But Sunny’s mind wasn’t on the bike.

Nadia sat a few steps away, perched on a stack of firewood, watching the trees in silence. Her eyes looked somehow sad.

“…So this is it, then?” Sunny finally asked her.

She didn’t answer right away.

“I’m just… what?” His voice was small, smaller than he wanted. “Getting dropped off like a package?”

“You’re not being dropped,” Nadia said, softly. “You’re being trusted.”

Sunny looked down at his hands, oily now from the chains. He hated how suddenly everything felt like it was ending. Like someone had flipped a switch and changed the season on him without warning.

“But why now?” he asked. “Why so fast? Yesterday we were eating breakfast together and watching horror movies, and now I’m just supposed to... move?”

“You’ve learned everything we could teach you,” she said. “You’re stronger now. Physically, emotionally. You’re not surviving anymore… you’re one of us.”

Sunny bit the inside of his cheek. “You mean I stopped being a burden.”

Nadia’s head snapped toward him. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true, right?” Sunny muttered. “You don’t need to babysit me anymore, so off I go.”

“Sunny.”

Her voice was sharp this time.

He looked at her, startled.

“You think that’s what this is?” she asked. “That you were just a job?... Well, if I'm honest, at the beginning it was like that.”

János quietly kept working, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed that he was listening too.

“But as time went on... things changed… I realized you were never just a job,” Nadia continued, her voice quiet now. “You were a kid we cared about. You still are. And this… this next step… it’s not punishment. It’s freedom. It’s you starting your life. Not just hiding in János’s home.”

Sunny looked away, throat tight.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said.

Nadia sighed and stood, walking over and crouching down beside him. “You won’t. You can’t.” She reached forward and knocked her knuckles gently against his forehead. “You’re stuck with us. Permanently. Only we won't be watching you anymore.”

János finally spoke, voice low. “You know where to find us.”

Sunny managed a weak smile.

“You’ll be fine,” Nadia said, nudging his shoulder with hers. “You’ve got claws. You’ve got brains. You’ve got Victor, and Vecla, and that dumb sweater you won’t stop wearing.”

“I like this sweater,” he grumbled.

János stepped back from the bike and wiped his hands on a rag. “And once you're settled in, you’ll be closer to town. Closer to the world. Our world. And eventually you'll grow up and be able to take the medicine that hides your powers... and you'll return home.”

That last part was hard for Sunny to process. Eventually he will be able to return as an adult to the place he himself abandoned due to a silly accident.

Nadia stood again, looking out toward the trail. “We’ll drive you most of the way. Then you’ll walk the rest. The new house is on the edge of the northern bluff. Vecla’s been setting it up for days now.”

“And that place doesn't have leaks, so consider that an upgrade,” János added.

Sunny looked at the forest. It was happening. Really happening.

“…I’m gonna miss you,” he said quietly.

“You better,” János said.

“We’ll miss you too,” Nadia said. “But this isn’t goodbye.”

She held out her hand.

Sunny took it.

Her fingers squeezed tightly, fiercely.

“It's time for your final test. Use all your skills to catch János, who'll be riding his motorcycle. He's fast on that thing, but he'll have to avoid a lot of trees, that's where you have the advantage. Ready?”

Sunny took a deep breath, focused... thought about his friends, not just the new ones, his friends from Faraway... He opened her eyes.

“I'm ready.”

Chapter Text

János revved the bike once, …loud… twice, …very loud… and then… took off, kicking up snow and pine needles in a blur of motion and red taillight glow.

Sunny darted forward after him, his legs pushing off the forest floor with instinctive rhythm. He leapt for the first branch… missed it by inches, and tumbled into a patch of undergrowth with a grunt.

“Don’t force the jump,” Nadia called from above, her form flickering through the branches. “Flow with the tree. Look ahead, not at your feet.”

Sunny spat out a leaf and scrambled back up. He ran again, this time letting the rhythm build in his muscles, leap, land, spring forward.

The second branch caught him, and he swung. His cat-tail curled instinctively for balance. Wind slapped his face as he launched again, bounding higher. János was already cutting around a tree line far ahead, but Sunny was gaining.

“Use the bend in the trunk there… yes! Good!” Nadia’s voice rang through the canopy of the forest. “Remember, you're a cat now, act like one, like you're not ashamed of it.”

Sunny grinned through clenched teeth.

Ahead, the distant rumble of the bike was growing louder again.

Sunny narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t going to lose.

He felt free, natural, in his element. His claws allowed him to climb like the tigers in those documentaries. He was getting closer and closer. For the first time in a long time, he felt proud of himself.

Just a little more…

…

Suddenly, Nadia lunged at him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. When Sunny was about to ask her why she did that, she covered his mouth and dragged him toward a tree, hiding them both.

He... heard voices... familiar voices…

…

“What the hell are you kids doing here!?”

János took off his motorcycle helmet. When he got off his motorcycle his height was towering over the two young ones.

Mari stiffened as the towering man approached. Hero instinctively stepped in front of her, his hand twitching slightly toward the strap of his bag, like it might offer some kind of defense.

Mari swallowed hard. “We… we’re looking for someone. My little brother. Sunny.” Her voice cracked on the name. “He disappeared. A few months ago. Somewhere around this forest.”

Hearing that name, János almost lost his mysterious attitude. But he didn't show it. He crossed his arms. “You think it’s a good idea to go wandering into this place alone?” His gaze flicked between the two, not unkind, but firm. “You’re lucky I didn’t mistake you for something else.”

Hero, ever the charming one, spoke next. “We marked our trail. We brought supplies. We’re not id… we are prepared.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” János muttered. Then, more loudly “This forest is dangerous. You’re not trained. You don’t know what’s out here.”

Mari stepped forward, guilt and desperation plain on her face. “Please. If there’s any chance… have you seen him? A little boy, a few years younger than us. Short black hair, black eyes, has a face that doesn't show many expressions but…” 

Mari flooded János with descriptions of her little brother. János’ expression didn’t flicker.

"Wait a second..." Mari pulled out a poster of Sunny. János opened his eyes curiously. "He looks like this.”

János took the poster, looked at it and sighed.

“I’ve seen a lot of strange things out here. But no boy like this,” he lied smoothly. “If he went into these woods months ago and never came back, then…”

“He’s not dead,” Mari snapped, surprising herself. “He wouldn’t be. I know he’s not.”

A beat passed. His gaze lingered on her. He clicked his tongue and turned toward his bike, brushing past them.

“Even if your gut’s right,” he said gruffly, “this place doesn’t care about gut feelings. It swallows people.”

Hero’s eyes narrowed. “Do you live out here?”

“Ehhh... close, you could say so.”

Mari’s voice trembled now. “Then help us. Please.”

János paused, his back still turned to them. He sighed quietly.

“I’m not a guide. I’m not a rescuer.” He looked over his shoulder, eyes hard now. “I’m telling you this for your own good. Go back the way you came. Now.”

Then he mounted the bike again. The engine roared back to life.

Mari and Hero exchanged a glance, anger, disbelief, frustration.

And behind the tree, Sunny crouched beside Nadia, eyes wide, heart hammering.

He watched his sister beg for him… and heard János lie.

He felt something bloom in his chest… hot and confusing and loud. He wasn’t ready for this. Not yet.

Mari's voice… trembling but still steady… echoed in his ears. He hadn’t heard it in so long. Her words pierced through him, guilt slithering in between his ribs.

She didn’t even know what he looked like now.

She didn’t know he had claws, or a tail, or that he ran through trees like an animal. She didn’t know about the hidden community or the people that lives there. She didn’t know what he'd become.

But she was still looking for him.

She still believed.

Sunny’s breath hitched. His claws gripped the bark beneath him, fingers trembling slightly. He’d thought about this moment before… in dreams, in daydreams, in long silences by glowing ponds… but it had never felt like this. It had never felt this real.

He wanted to leap out of hiding, run to her, hug her like nothing had changed.

But something had changed. Everything had.

He couldn’t just run back. Not like this.

He remembered the way he’d disappeared. The broken violin left behind. The consequences he had avoided. The explanations he owed but never gave.

He remembered Vecla's quiet words. The way János and Nadia had shielded him, not just from danger, but from himself.

And now…

Sunny’s throat tightened.

“I don’t want to run away again,” he whispered, barely audible even to himself.

Nadia glanced sideways, her expression unreadable in the shadows, but she didn’t speak. She just crouched beside him, her presence grounding, silent but steady.

He looked at the forest clearing, where Hero stood protectively near Mari. They looked tired. Weary. But they were still there.

They hadn’t stopped looking.

They hadn’t stopped loving him.

He wasn’t ready to return. Not yet. Not like this.

But he knew now… he would return.

And when he did… he’d do it right.

He’d explain everything. He’d face the hurt he’d left behind, not just for himself, but for them too.

“I’m going to make this right,” Sunny murmured.

Nadia placed a clawed hand gently on his shoulder.

And Sunny, still crouched in the forest with his heart tangled in the branches above him, took the first breath of a new promise.

…

Hero and Mari finally left, retracing their steps.

János drove where Nadia and Sunny were hiding. "Shit... that was... how are you feeling, Sunny?"

Sunny didn’t answer at first. He was still staring at the space where his sister had stood moments ago.

His hands were clenched so tight his claws had bitten into his palms. He didn’t notice the sting.

János stepped off the bike, helmet under his arm, and gave Nadia a quick glance before looking back at Sunny. “Sunny?”

Sunny blinked. His voice, when it came, was hoarse.

“I almost ran out there.”

János nodded, not surprised. “Yeah. We figured you might.”

“I wanted to. I wanted to run to her and scream I’m alive. That I’m sorry.” His jaw trembled. “But I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” János asked gently.

Sunny looked at him, eyes wide, shimmering in the shadowed light of the forest. “Because I don’t know who I am to them anymore. I’m…” He hesitated, looking down at his clawed hands. “I’m this.”

Nadia crouched beside him, her voice low. “You’re still Sunny.”

“Am I?”

“You are,” János said firmly. “But you’re also more. And that’s not a betrayal. That’s growth.”

Sunny’s breath shook as it left his lungs.

“I want to go back,” he admitted. “Someday. But I don't want to damage the people of your... of our community. I will return someday, but by following the rules”

János stepped forward and placed a hand on Sunny’s shoulder, grounding him. “Then that’s what we’ll help you do.”

Sunny looked up at them, his strange new family, both strange and familiar.

“Then let’s keep going,” he said, voice steadier now. “Let’s finish this last day right.”

Nadia smirked. “Good. Because your time was awful before I tackled you. You’d have lost.”

Sunny wiped his face quickly with the back of his sleeve and stood.

“I wasn’t going full speed,” János chuckled as he mounted the bike again. “Then let’s see it now. From here to the stream. First one there gets the last protein bar.”

Sunny’s eyes lit up with a flicker of his old spark.

“You’re on.”

He took off into the trees, heart still heavy… but no longer weighed down. Not with guilt.

With purpose.

The road was unnervingly quiet at night. Rain drizzled in fine needles from a sky, turning the gas station parking lot into a mirror of oily puddles and flickering neon.

Inside the small store, Alex leaned against the counter, chin in hand, staring at the clock behind the cash register. It was only 11:17 PM.

Ramos stood in the back corner, restocking a rack of windshield wipes while muttering trivia under his breath.

“First gas station opened in 1905. St. Louis. People didn’t even wear seat belts back then…”

Alex sighed. “Cool.”

He turned up the music.

“♫ Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth

They say in Heaven, love comes first ♫”

Suddenly the doorbell rings announcing that they have a client.

He's a... normal man? They don't even bother to greet him.

People here just want to buy their things and leave... although... there isn't even a car outside... did the man come walking along the road?

The man wandered through the aisles, grabbing various products. He stopped and stared at the homemade kombucha his uncle was selling.

I hope this guy isn't a health inspector.

“Do you have it with the mushroom still inside?”

Alex blinked, caught off guard.

“The… what?”

The man didn’t look up. He had one hand loosely holding a bottle of kombucha, the other still holding the basket with his other stuff.

“The mushroom,” the man said again. His voice was low, almost hoarse. “It’s only real if it still has the mother inside.”

He turned slowly and looked Alex dead in the eyes.

There was a stretched silence. The kind that presses on your chest.

“I… I think there’s some jars in the back,” Alex mumbled, almost instinctively, trying not to break eye contact… or make too much of it. “You want me to check?”

The man just nodded, once. His eyes didn’t blink.

Ramos furrowed his brow, mouthing something silently to Alex. He shrugged and turned toward the cooler in the back.

He opened the small fridge door. The cold air fogged his glasses. He reached toward the bottom shelf where they kept the oldest bottles, some with thick sediment, one even with a pale, fleshy blob that looked like a drowned jellyfish.

There it was. Kombucha with the “mother” still inside.

He came back and charged the man for all the products, he paid and left just like that.

“…Weirdo.”

“Yeah,” Ramos agreed. “Looked like a thug. Thought he was gonna rob us.”

“That didn’t worry me,” Alex said, forming finger guns. “I know where my uncle keeps his old rifle. I’d go bang! bang! and then I’d say that line your people use ‘Hasta la vista, baby!’ and bang! again, right on the floor.”

Ramos blinked. “My people? What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know… that Spanish line from Terminator 2, like in the movie.”

“I’m Portuguese.”

“Oh.”

…

The hours passed again, apart from a couple of trucks filling up no one else came.

Ramos kept messing around with his trivia, how the hell does he expect me to know the year the submarine was invented?

At least he had his radio playing music or else he would go crazy.

“♫ I always feel like somebody's watchin' me

Who's playing tricks on me? ♫”

Alex enjoyed music, found it fun, someone obsessed with being watched, hehe. Although it's true, there are cameras everywhere these days, he has one right above him right now. Always watching with its little red lig… It's off… the red light is off.

“Ramos... the security camera is off”

"What? It must be a problem with the computer. Let me check it." Ramos checks and turns pale.

"What? What's wrong?"

"It says the power cable is unplugged."

"Well, we plug it in and that's it."

"The cable is outside.”

…

Ramos hesitated at the doorway, holding a flashlight like it was a sword. “Why the hell would someone cut the power to the cameras?”

“I don’t know,” Alex muttered, trying not to let his voice shake. “Maybe some punk kids messing around. Or maybe a raccoon. Or like... the wind.”

“The wind?” Ramos hissed. “You think the wind unplugged the damn security system?”

Alex opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. He turned the flashlight on and stepped out into the night.

The rain had eased into a misty drizzle, just enough to make everything damp and reflective.

They made their way around the side of the gas station, shoes squelching in the gravel and mud. The flashlight’s beam trembled as Alex swept it over the electric box.

It was wide open. The wires were dangling, freshly cut. Not chewed. Cut.

Alex swallowed. “Okay. Okay, maybe it was someone messing around. Prank or something. Stupid shit, right?”

But Ramos wasn’t listening. He was staring off into the trees beyond the parking lot, his breath shallow.

“Do you see that?”

Alex followed his gaze.

Shapes. Barely visible between the trees. Tall. Still. Watching.

“Dude, no… no way. I’m not falling for that,” Alex said, backing away, but his voice was rising. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” Ramos whispered. “I saw one of them move.”

Alex’s mouth went dry.

The flashlight flickered.

Then died.

A snap in the trees.

They both turned and ran… back around the building, slipping on the wet gravel, Ramos shouting something, Alex couldn’t understand, lungs burning.

They slammed the back door shut behind them and bolted it. Alex leaned on it with his full weight, heart hammering, trying to listen past the ringing in his ears.

Nothing.

Ramos paced, rubbing his arms. “Okay. Okay, this is messed up. Really messed up. What if that guy earlier… what if he’s still out there?”

“Why would he mess with the cameras?”

“You already said it, he's a weirdo... and maybe dangerous.”

Then the lights in the store went out.

A soft tap-tap-tap began at the glass door at the front of the shop. Not a knock. Tapping. Like fingernails.

Then more taps.

Windows.

All around.

From every direction.

Ramos’s voice was barely a whisper. “Fuck, there must be several of them.”

Alex reached under the counter for the rifle. It wasn't there.

Suddenly he heard a shot behind him.

He turned around... that man... had shot Ramos... he had the rifle.

"Please, n…”

...

As he leaves, the man sees a poster stuck to one of the gas station's windows. 'Sunny Suzuki, Help us find him'.

He takes the poster with curiosity and puts it in his pocket, folding it carefully.

…

…

…

“Authorities woke up today to another horrific event. Customers reported a gruesome scene at a small gas station on the Crossby Road, with blood almost all over the floor. Authorities have yet to find the bodies of the two employees who were working that night…”

Chapter Text

11:00 p.m.

The last hours of the day. The lights are dimmed on the streets and the moon is bright.

A half-eaten pizza box rests on the table, surrounded by soda cans and blankets sprawled across the floor.

Hero lies asleep on the floor, arm draped over Kel, they had both decided to build a pillow fort. Aubrey has one leg off the bed, Sunny's bed, face half-buried in his pillow, muttering something unintelligible in her sleep. She can't see Basil, but she assumes he's next to Aubrey.

Mari is the last to drift off. She lies awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, her fingers loosely tangled with her own hair.

Then…

PLINK

A single piano note echoes from downstairs.

Mari freezes.

PLINK

Another note.

She untangles herself carefully and rises, slipping past the sleeping forms around her.

…

The door creaks open slowly.

The pale light of the moon streams through the curtains.

Her piano waits in the center of the room.

And there, sitting before it, is Basil.

His back is hunched. His fingers rest gently on the keys, trembling just slightly.

Mari steps forward. “Basil…?”

He is startled by Mari's sudden voice, he hadn't even heard her come in.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says softly. His voice is calm as always, but… something is… wrong. “I just kept thinking about how everything used to feel... safer?, no… better?... I don't even know…”

Mari’s heart aches.

“I remember.” He lifts one hand, presses a key. “I remember when we got Sunny that violin... we thought that... that it was... we thought he would be happy, that everything would go uphill…”

Mari walks slowly to him, but doesn’t sit.

“I thought maybe if I sat here long enough…” Basil says, still staring at the keys, “Sunny loved to hear you play.”

There’s something wrong in his gaze. Something… exhausted...

“Why does everyone leave me?”

Mari takes in a slow breath.

“My mom and dad left me with my grandmother and never came back. Sunny… left. You…”

“I didn’t mean to. I was going through a bad t… ” Her voice is small.

“But you did.” Basil’s voice shakes now. “You vanished. You stopped going outside. Stopped searching for him. And I kept telling myself it was okay. That you were grieving. That it wasn’t your fault. But it still hurt. And I… I say horrible things about you...”

His voice chokes, and he turns away, hand gripping the edge of the bench.

Mari sees him... the darkness of the room almost covers him completely, only his eyes and hair can be distinguished thanks to the moonlight.

“I think something’s wrong with me”

Mari kneels beside him. “Basil…”

“I try to be good. I try so hard not to be a burden. But people still go. And I keep thinking... it must be me…”

Mari feels the words like a dagger in her ribs. She knows she should remember Hero's words, but... hearing Basil say that… She feels guilt stronger than ever.

“It’s not you,” she says. “I was the one who couldn’t take the weight. I thought I had to be perfect. I thought if I just held it all together, if I do enough, practiced enough, did everything right…”

Her voice breaks. She presses her hands against her chest, like she’s trying to hold in the guilt. “...then maybe I could… Maybe I could keep…”

“But he’s gone…”

They sit in silence.

She reaches for him. Slowly, carefully.

He doesn’t pull away.

She leans her head against his shoulder. Her hand wraps gently around his.

“You’re not alone,” she says. “I’m here.”

“…I’m scared.”

“Me too...”

Outside, the wind rustles the trees.

The piano is silent now.

But maybe…

…someday…

…it will play again.

Chapter Text

Sunny blinked awake in unfamiliar softness, sheets that smelled like new, a pillow that hadn’t yet molded to the shape of his head.

His tail was curled under the blanket, and the faint warmth of the room made his fur rise slightly, unsure whether to stretch or bristle.

His new room was nice. Bigger, cleaner, quieter than the one he’d in the old mansion with János. But then why did everything feel so...uncomfortable?

It was too… quiet.

The air didn’t smell like tea and old wood. There were no sounds of János cooking. No heavy boots pacing outside his door. No annoyed voice yelling, “Where’s my field journal?!” followed by a crash and Nadia yelling back, “It’s under your butt, idiot.”

Instead, there was the sound of birds and people walking in the streets.

And a knock at the door…

Three quick taps, then the familiar creak of an old cane against the floor.

Sunny sighed and sat up, tail flicking over the edge of the bed.

“Come in,” he said, already knowing who it was.

Vecla entered like she belonged there. She always did that, and not in an overbearing way either, it was more like she wanted to be so natural in his life that her presence never felt foreign.

“Good morning, little sunshine,” she said, a name she insisted on using lately. “Remember when you told me János used to bring you morning tea? Well, I decided to do the same.”

She held out a chipped porcelain cup. It smelled like cardamom and something gently fungal, Vecla’s favorite.

Sunny accepted it with both hands. “Thanks.”

She settled into the armchair across from his bed, tapping her cane twice on the floor before resting both hands on the handle.

“So… sleep well?” she asked, like she hadn’t already stood outside the door twice last night listening for nightmares.

Sunny nodded, noncommittal. “Fine.”

“I was thinking,” she said brightly, “we could decorate your walls today. Perhaps some framed pictures? A nice taxidermy butterfly? Or I could have some beautiful furniture delivered from the artisan quarter…”

“I’m okay,” Sunny interrupted, gently.

Vecla’s smile didn’t fade, but something in her eyes flickered. She was trying so hard. Too hard.

He sipped his tea and stared at the wooden floorboards. “It’s weird not being with them.”

“János and Nadia?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Vecla’s voice softened. “That’s normal. They were your guardians. But that season’s passed. You’ve grown and part of growing up means learning to live in new places, with new people.”

Sunny didn’t answer. He just stared out the window at the quiet town below, where hybrid kids chased each other between the streetlamps and people walked to work.

Vecla rose slowly and walked over to him, placing a wrinkled, warm hand on his head. She stroked his hair back like a grandmother might.

“I'll be there whenever you need me, sunshine.”

Sunny blinked hard, eyes stinging a little.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

She patted his cheek with a small, affectionate grunt. “Now drink your tea before it cools. We need to start planning your first day at school.”

He gave a small smile at that. Just a flicker.

“Good morning, kiddo! Ready for your…”

When he opens the door, János finds himself in an empty room.

“...breakfast?”

He takes a few breaths “…right, you don't live here anymore"

Despite having lived alone for many years before, now everything feels... emptier.

“I had totally forgotten about that”

The school building stood like a boxy, modern monolith at the center of the district, a mix of glass, red bricks, and steel, with hanging gardens that looked like someone had tried to tame a rainforest with a science fair budget. He hadn't seen those the last time he came.

Sunny stood at the front door, backpack slung over one shoulder, fur bristling slightly beneath his coat. His tail flicked twice.

“This is stupid,” he muttered under his breath. “School’s about to go on break anyway…”

“Which makes this the perfect time to get comfy before the chaos starts again,” said Victor, suddenly appearing beside him, arms thrown dramatically wide. “Fewer students, easier introductions, and more chances to bask in the glory of my undeniable charm.”

Sunny side-eyed him. “You did abandon me in a collapsing underwater death mansion.”

“Technically, I ran for help. Which succeeded. You’re welcome.” Victor grinned. “Besides, look at you. You lived.”

“My clothes still smell like coral spores and humidity” Sunny grumbled.

Just then, a hand reached out and tugged on his other sleeve.

“Stop fighting like a married couple,” Penny said, deadpan. Her thick coat was already half-unzipped, revealing a uniform jacket. “We’ve got ten minutes until first bell. Come on.”

Koro gave a sharp wave from the top of the stairs, a bag of bento rice triangles in one clawed hand. “Sunnyyyy! I saved you a seaweed one!”

“Oh thanks, I've never seen one of these except in cartoons” Sunny said as he followed them up.

Victor clapped him on the back.

The inside of the building was surprisingly normal, lockers, bulletin boards, weird posters with glitter glue encouraging good behavior. The students, however, ranged wildly, from a girl with wings arguing with a frog-boy over a vending machine, to a shadowy figure scribbling weird runes into his notebook, Sunny could swear he'd seen those symbols before.

“Don’t worry,” Nate said, coming up beside them. “Everyone’s kind of weird here, so you blend in just fine.”

The five of them led him to their usual hangout spot. The vibe was casual. Familiar.

Victor plopped into one of the chairs like a king claiming his throne. “So,” he said, folding his arms behind his head. “First day. First impressions. How do you feel?”

Sunny glanced around.

“Weird. Nervous. But also… safe.”

Penny rolled her eyes. “He’ll be fine. He’s already prettier than half this school.”

“Less explodey, too,” Koro added.

Nate just gave Sunny a small thumbs-up.

Sunny looked down at his shoes for a second, then out at the courtyard again. Yeah. It wasn’t Faraway. But it wasn’t bad.

Maybe he could get used to this.

Maybe this place… these people…

Maybe they could be his home too. If he tries.

Nadia takes another swing at the practice dummy she set up in her cabin's yard.

Her training session is interrupted by the sound of someone stalking in the woods. She prepares, waiting for the attack to come. She's already seen it, her lupine stalker staring her in the face.

But the attack didn't come from the wolf, it came from the side and behind her. However, she easily repelled her two attackers by grabbing the leg of one and throwing it against the other.

“Seriously? You're not training your teammates well, Walter.”

The wolf emerged from the forest and transformed into his true form. "They are Rain and Lois's children, still learning to take up their parents' mantle as guardians. How you and that little one you used to train”

“I didn't used to, I still train him. Just because he don't live with Mr. Fancy doesn't mean I can't continue to refine his skills. I hope he doesn't forget that.”

“Just as you forgot your responsibilities?”

Nadia sees him strangely, but opens her eyes when she realizes.

“I remember how you asked me to give you responsibility for guarding the road to Faraway. I gave it to you out of respect for you as my senior, and you were doing well.”

Walter helps his two companions to get up, while continuing with his calm but direct voice.

“I wasn't even worried that you let two human children enter during your watch, as they had integrated into the community. But what does worry me is that you didn't notice when those two young ones yesterday ventured beyond the permitted point.”

"I..." Nadia was embarrassed by that. In all her years of experience, she'd always been able to take care of intruders so the community remained hidden. But yesterday... yesterday, she'd been so focused on having fun with Sunny that she didn't even notice the two young ones.

"But hey, if this is too much for you, just say so and we'll take your place.”

Nadia’s fists clenched, claws scraping faint lines into her palms. She turned slowly, her back straight, her expression cool but smoldering.

“That’s not going to happen,” she said evenly.

Walter raised an eyebrow, brushing a leaf off his shoulder. “Then act like the warrior you claim to be, Nadia.”

Nadia crossed her arms. “And what about you, huh? Sending pups after me? You trying to prove something?”

Walter shrugged. “They need to learn. And you were the best challenge they could ask for. Still are. If you're sharp.” He looked down at the two shaken trainees, one rubbing their arm, the other glaring at the broken dummy. “But your instincts are dulled. You were distracted.”

Nadia’s jaw tightened. “So what? I took one day to say goodbye. One.”

Walter looked at her. His voice dropped. “You raised that kid like your own. We all saw it. No one faults you for caring. But you and I both know this job doesn’t wait for grief. Or nostalgia.”

She looked away, eyes tracing the trees as if trying to find her balance again. A silence passed between them like a low wind.

“…I didn’t expect it to hit this hard,” she finally admitted, voice rougher. “Thought I’d train him up, give him some foundation, and then that’d be it. But… damn, Walter. It’s not ‘it.’ He’s… family.”

Walter said nothing for a moment. Then…

“That’s what makes it harder to let go.”

The wolf-shifter leaned against a tree, his gaze more tired than accusatory now.

“I had to let go of my own, too. But if we don't keep the line strong, if we don’t keep the path guarded… more than just our community is at risk.”

Nadia looked up at the sky for a second, taking a deep breath. Then, she cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders.

“…Then I get stronger, oldie.”

Walter quirked an ear.

“You’re right,” she said. “I let it slip yesterday. But that’s not gonna happen again. I may be soft for Sunny, but I’ve still got teeth. And claws. And a damn good memory for every inch of these woods.”

The younger trainees looked a little intimidated. Nadia glanced their way, then softened. “Your students are good. Sloppy, but good. They’ve got the instincts. You keep pushing them, and I’ll sharpen them up next time.”

Walter gave a short nod of approval. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He turned to go, but paused halfway back into the trees.

“By the way,” he said, voice casual but pointed. “Vecla says she wants to see you. Something about assigning new borders after winter break. Might be a new posting for you.”

Nadia raised a brow. “She say where?”

“She said you’ll like it.”

With that, he disappeared into the woods with his trainees in tow.

Nadia exhaled long and slow, then looked back at the dummy.

She cracked her knuckles.

“One last round,” she muttered.

Then she lunged.

The classroom was nothing out of the ordinary, the teachers were well trained to deal with any student and their abilities.

Sunny was in the awkward position of having to introduce himself to his future classmates. He didn't like it at all, it was like drawing attention to himself for nothing.

Fortunately, Victor managed to get him a desk next to his. Sunny was still trying to look angry at him, but his natural charisma made that difficult.

“Okay, kids, now that the instructions are over, let's pick up where we left off yesterday in... community history.” The professor took a book and opened it directly to the page he wanted with familiar ease.

“Sunny, since you're new, can you read aloud from page 15?”

How he hated being the new student in the middle of an ongoing school year. It feels like every teacher is trying to measure his knowledge at every opportunity.

Sunny cleared his throat.

“Since the High Middle Ages, the defense of the community, when it was still located in Europe, fell to three families, the Loups, the Rainards and the Lèbres.”

In the text there is an image of three human figures wearing cloth masks of a wolf, a fox and a hare.

“These three families have passed on the mantle of guardians to the strongest descendants of each generation.”

Sunny remembers seeing several people wearing cloth masks of wolves, foxes, and hares while out and about in the community. Could they be members of those families?

“However, those aren't the only important figures in our community, there are also the four immortals, the only individuals who have eaten from the immortal heart of the mother mushroom: the huntress, the duke, the mercenary, and the beast.”

There are four abstract images representing them, Sunny can notice the resemblance to Nadia and János, but he doesn't know the other two.

“They do not age while in the mother mushroom area. If they leave it, their aging continues normally after 5 years, until they return.”

János sat in his living room. Everything was... silent.

János leaned back into the creaking armchair, a cup of strong tea untouched on the table beside him. The quiet pressed in around him… not peaceful, but too still. Since Sunny had left, the house felt empty. Not sad, exactly. Just… out of rhythm.

He sighed and reached for his old rotary phone, the hum of the line connecting slowly, slowly…

“...’Lo?” came the familiar voice, with a rasp and the sound of birds and music in the background.

“Still alive, I see,” János said with a smirk.

A short laugh crackled through the line. “Barely. I got into a fight with a rich guy over... something he stole from me... in short, I grabbed him by the legs and threatened to throw him off the roof of the Maracanã”

“Wouldn’t be my first guess.”

“I needed a tall, showy, and nearby building, either the stadium or the UERJ.” There was a pause. “What’s up, Jani?”

János hesitated just long enough for it to be noticed. “I’m… bored.”

The laugh on the other side turned into a cough. “That’s new.”

“I’m sitting in this quiet house playing chess against myself and I keep losing.”

“You suck at chess.”

“Exactly. I need stimulation.”

There was a pause, then a long, thoughtful breath.

“You’re calling me for stimulation?”

“You still owe me for Prague.”

“That was many years ago.”

“You still owe me.”

“Fuck you… What do you have in mind?”

Another pause. 

The sound of a match striking. “Listen, Jani. My five-year cycle’s still got what, three more years left? I was gonna wait for the next bloom to renew.”

“I know,” János said. “I’m not asking you to settle in. Just drop in for a while. A week or two. We’ll catch up. And maybe we could... steal something.”

“Aren't you supposed to be under house arrest?”

“Hehe…”

A breeze whispered over the line. Distant music. The latest pop song.

“…Alright, old man. I’ll come.”

“You flying?”

"No, I teleport, what do you think, genius? Of course I’ll fly all the way there.”

“I’ll get the guest room ready.”

“No need. I’m bunking on your couch. I know how you have those rooms, it would be a miracle if there was one without leaks.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” János said, finally smiling. “Welcome home, Mercenary.”

“Don’t call me that, it makes me sound like a comic book villain.”

“You are a comic book villain.”

He laughed again. “Give me a day. I’ll be there before the tea gets cold.”

The line went dead.

János stood, stretched, and looked around the room.

It didn’t feel so quiet anymore.

Chapter Text

The heavy front doors creaked open with that same moody groan Sunny remembered. The warmth of the mansion's interior struck him with a slight nostalgia despite having only left a few days ago.

János looked up from the living room, half-draped across the couch, a drink in one hand and something shiny in the other, something he quickly slipped under a cushion the moment their eyes met.

Sunny paused in the doorway, raising an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” János said, too fast, sitting upright. “A spoon.”

“A spoon?”

“A very suspicious spoon.”

Sunny narrowed his eyes, but let it go. János was always like this.

“Forget it... hey! I should be the one asking you what you're doing here.”

“I got assigned homework,” Sunny said, kicking off his shoes by the door and walking in. “Community history. We have to write a short essay on one of the individuals we studied today.”

János smirked, already sipping his drink again. “Let me guess. You chose the Duke? The most handsome founding member of the community.”

“Are you a founding member?”

There was a beat of silence.

János slowly lowered his cup. “Of... of course... didn't they teach you that? What a bad school.”

He seemed surprised. “Though it's a surprise they even mentioned me. I always assumed the leaders eliminated me for being too good-looking.”

“This is important,” Sunny said, settling into the armchair across from him. “It’s my first assignment.”

János raised an eyebrow.

“I want to know more about you. The real you.”

That, more than anything, seemed to catch János off guard. For a moment, the smirk slipped from his face.

“…Alright,” he said, slowly leaning back. “You want the story? You’ll get it. But fair warning, Little Tiger, truth doesn’t always make good bedtime reading.”

Sunny crossed his arms. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

János saw Sunny trying to look grown up in the way he sat and almost started laughing.

“Hey!”

János chuckled “Well then,” he said, “where should we begin?”

1457

Târgoviște, Wallachia

Although they call me the Duke, I never held such a title. I grew up as the sole heir of a boyar, he was a cunning and strict old man but sometimes he let himself be loved. We were going to the Easter celebration of the Prince of Wallachia, Vlad Drăculea. I remember everything was beautiful that day, I enjoyed going to the capital.

And... then... that happened... the Easter Massacre. I saw my parents die before my eyes... I survived, escaped. I fell into a hole in the woods and... I was hungry... I ate what later turned out to be the heart of the mother mushroom.

Sunny looked at him with those sad eyes. "János... I..."

"Hey hey, let's forget about that, Hehe. Let's skip to a better part of the story."

1476

Hoia-Baciu Forest, Transylvania

I was going from town to town trying to survive and learning how to use my new skills. I trained myself. Stole books from monasteries. Watched hunters track deer so I could copy their movements. I’d sneak into towns, find fighters, mercenaries, duelists... and challenge them. Sometimes I won. Sometimes… I ran away bleeding.

I never stayed long in one place. I didn’t age, not while I was near the fungal root. But the people did. Friends turned into strangers. That was the first thing I learned, if you don’t move, the world moves without you.

I thought about my revenge every day. I dreamed about it. I imagined walking through the royal court of Wallachia and watching Vlad’s eyes widen as he realized the boy he failed to kill was standing before him, alive. I wanted him afraid. I wanted him to beg.

By 1476, I was ready. I had blades I could balance on one finger, poisons I could brew in my sleep. I had taken down entire bandit camps. I returned to Wallachia… to nothing.

I arrived just in time to learn that Vlad Tepes had been executed by the sultan’s forces. His head was already in a Turkish stronghold. Spiked. Rotting.

I didn’t know what to feel. I’d lived twenty years for that moment. Built myself into a weapon, sharpened by rage. And the man I was made for… was gone.

I wandered after that. A lot. Some people called me a ghost. Others, a demon. The Duke title? That came later, when people started mistaking me for nobility because I kept showing up in towns without aging.

I played along. You’d be amazed how easy it is to lie when everyone wants to believe something impressive.

…

I settled down. Got married. Twice. Maybe three times, depending on how you count it. I had children. They thought I was a traveling merchant, or a noble in exile. And for a while, I believed it too. But... but I didn’t age. And they did.

They lived comfortably. I made sure of that. Every one of them. I buried them in silk, not in war. That was the one kindness I could afford.

But eventually… I stopped trying. I couldn’t stand it. Building lives just to watch them collapse. So, I isolated myself again. Wandered. Until I came across the writings of a man named Paracelsus.

That man understood the power of the plants… Before you correct me, they used to believe that mushrooms were also plants… Among his obscure notes was one thought that stayed with me… nature must be rewritten to overcome its cruelty. That... that sounded right.

I turned to what had changed me… the mother mushroom.

I thought, if it could change me, make me powerful, why not perfect others too? Not all people had to be like me. But some? Some could be chosen. Shaped. Preserved. Improved.

I created spores. Extracts. Inoculations. I started small. A soldier here. A dying noblewoman there. I told myself I was saving them.

But I wasn’t always asking. Some refused, and I didn’t care. I thought I knew better. I believed the world needed it. If no one else was going to fix things… then I would. By force.

Across Bohemia. France. The low countries. I was the plague in noble halls. The shadow doctor in wartime camps. And the legend that frightened children in Bavarian woods.

“You know about the Gunpowder Plot, right? A bunch of angry Catholics, trying to blow up Parliament and the King?”

Sunny nodded slowly.

“Well, I was part of it. Not for religion. I didn’t care about that. I saw an opportunity, if everything went right, England would fall into chaos, and in the confusion, I could seize control over something truly lasting. An entire country led by a man who couldn’t die.”

Sunny blinked. “You were going to blow up Parliament?”

“I wasn’t lighting the fuse myself,” János shrugged. “I left that to Guy and the others. I had other priorities. Paintings to steal. Secrets to take. I was already climbing the inner scaffolds of Parliament that night, picking out which portraits to salvage before the building went up in flame. I'd been there for days. Planning. Positioning.”

His tone dropped.

“And then she showed up.”

1605

London, England

The wind whipped around the spires as János stood on the edge of the rooftop, a satchel of valuables at his side, when a figure stepped out of the darkness.

“Nice night for treason,” the woman said, crouched on a gargoyle like it was her own balcony. “Or is it just robbery tonight?”

János tensed, his eyes narrowing. “You're not one of the guards.”

“Sharp,” she said. She flipped down the hood of her long coat, revealing a mess of dark curls and eyes like amber blades. “Nadia.”

“I didn’t order a shadow tonight, Nadia.”

“Not a shadow. A message.”

János’s fingers twitched toward his blade. “From who?”

“From the new hidden community,” she said. “The one that doesn’t want you experimenting on humans and rewriting humanity in the name of revenge.”

That made him laugh. “You’re here to stop me? A girl scout?”

“Not just to stop you,” she said, standing. “To arrest you. Alive. Take it as a courtesy from me.”

He sneered. “Try.”

And she did.

Claw against blade. Every blow struck like thunder. Nadia was faster than he expected, sharp, focused, brutal. Not like the rogues and bounty hunters he’d put down before.

She was trained. She was serious. She didn't even have to change her form entirely to put up a fight.

János flipped over a tower, kicked off a weather vane, tried to catch her off-guard with fungal spores from his gauntlet, only for her to slam his arm against the tiles and snap the vial in half.

“You’re not the only one with tricks,” she hissed, catching him in a sweep that nearly sent him off the roof.

He rolled back, panting. “You should leave. I’m giving you one chance.”

“Why?” she asked.

He glanced down at the clock tower. “Because any second now, this whole place is going to vanish in flame and you will be fighting against the future King, no… Emperor of the Hybrid Isles!”

Nadia stared at him… and then laughed.

Not gently. Not nervously. But loudly. Mockingly.

“Oh, you poor, bastard,” she said. “You didn’t get the message?”

“What message?”

“The plot was dismantled. Days ago.”

János froze. “No… no, I saw Guy…”

“Arrested.”

“But the gunpowder…”

“Removed. Confiscated. The entire thing fell apart while you were busy picking out wall art.”

He looked down again. The ground was still. No chaos. No thunder.

“Don't laugh, I'm watching you Sunny”

Sunny was trying to hold back his laughter “Sorry... heh... I... erm... What happened next?”

János continued to look at him, somewhat annoyed. “I escaped and continued my adventures. I was in many places, Rome, Ethiopia, Bohemia, Haiti... but all good things must come to an end.”

“Wait, wait, how did you escape?”

“That doesn't matter, I… I surprised Nadia so much that she fell off the roof and died. The End”

“Come on, tell me how it really ended.”

“Look at the time, you have to go back home, Vecla will be very worried.”

“No, no, wait…”

János pushed Sunny out of his mansion, ruffled his hair, and closed the door behind him.

Chapter Text

Snow crunched beneath Sunny’s boots as he made his way to Nadia’s cabin. 

The training dummies outside were already battered, some cut in half, others leaning awkwardly like they were too tired to keep standing.

He knocked twice before letting himself in. “Nadia?”

She was inside, towel slung over her neck, sipping from a thermos. Her brows lifted when she saw him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Cat-Snnuy,” she said. “What brings you here? Need help spelling ‘Duke of the Delusional’?”

“Do you know about my essay about János?”

“I heard you guys talking when I was picking up my gear from his mansion yesterday. What a way to show who's your favorite.”

Sunny rolled his eyes. “He's not my favorite... I don't have favorites, I love you both. It's just that... I don't know almost anything about him. He told me about the Gunpowder Plot. Kind of…”

Nadia paused, lowering the thermos. “…Kind of?”

“He said he was picking out paintings when you showed up, then fought you on the roof. Claimed he escaped because you were so surprised you fell and died.”

She barked a short laugh. “Of course he did.”

“So what really happened?”

Nadia smirked and motioned for him to sit. “Well, first of all, János doesn’t ‘escape.’ He stumbles, panics, or charms his way out of things. Usually all three. And he definitely didn’t kill me. If anything, I knocked him off the roof.”

Sunny blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Oh yeah. He was talking way too much, something about how majestic he looked standing against the London skyline or some shit like that, I don't remember. I took the opportunity and kicked him through a stained-glass window.”

“You kicked him through a window?”

“He heals fast,” she said dryly. “And don’t get me wrong, he’s a very good fighter. When he has a sword, he’s dangerous. Without one? He’s mostly dramatic flourishes and improvisation. It’s like fighting a theater kid who went to war.”

Sunny covered his mouth to keep from laughing.

“He's a slippery rat, I spent years learning his quirks and weaknesses. He technically created the hybrid community. All the people he transformed over the years gathered for the sole purpose of getting revenge on him. At first, I was surprised to see so many hybrids like me… I became their agent.”

Sunny sat on the old wooden chair in her dining room. “Were you the only one chasing him?”

“No, there was one occasion when…”

1637

Aix-en-Provence, France.

János meet this guy, it was… something french… ah, Nicolas-Claude. Smart man. Astronomer, historian, obsessed with knowledge. But more importantly, he didn’t treat János like a monster. The two worked together in secret, trading books, ideas. Nicolas helped him study the mycelium, gave him access to old records, alchemical theories. The guy was human, but… I think János saw him as family.

He died. Old age. Quietly. János showed up at the funeral in Aix-en-Provence. Didn’t speak to anyone. Just watched. Then, as always, he left before anyone could notice he hadn’t aged in thirty years.

That’s when we made our move.

The ones who acted that day were the three guardians, Rainard’s Fox, Loups’ Wolf, and Lèbres’ Hare.”

Sunny blinked. “The mask families.”

Nadia nodded. “They were the community’s first true defenders, long before it was a ‘community’. Just scattered survivors back then. But they found each other, banded together, and swore to keep people like János in check. Especially him.”

They followed him into the forest outside Aix. Waited until he thought he was alone. He must’ve sensed something, because he started talking to them before they even revealed themselves.

“Lovely place for an ambush,” he muttered, voice echoing just enough to prove he wasn’t alone.

From the treetops, they dropped.

Three figures in masks: the wolf, the fox, the hare.

No words. Just silence.

“Warm welcome, Nadia sends yo…”

The Fox moved first, slender, precise, and fast. A flash of steel slashed toward János’s legs. He leapt back, drawing his twin blades with a flourish.

“You know,” he said, dancing on his heels, “I came to mourn a friend. Not be gutted like a deer.”

The Wolf charged. The ground shuddered. János barely twisted aside as a heavy boot slammed into the earth where he’d stood. The force cracked a root, sent bark flying.

Then the Hare was there, springing in from nowhere, limbs bending at impossible angles. A spin-kick from above caught János across the shoulder and sent him tumbling.

He rolled to his feet and countered with a wide slash. It grazed the Wolf’s mask, drawing a hiss of breath. “Ah! A scratch!” János said, smiling. “A historic moment.”

The Fox punished his arrogance, slicing the tendons just below his ribs with a curved dagger. János cry in pain.

He went low, sweeping the Hare's legs, but she cartwheeled into a backwards handspring, landing perched on a branch like she weighed nothing. She launched again, somersaulting over him, flipping mid-air to kick him in the spine.

He collapsed forward, wind knocked out of him.

Steel hit his side, the Wolf’s mace this time. A blunt, punishing blow that made his vision flash red.

János lashed out with a burst of speed, caught the Fox’s blade mid-swing with his own, twisted it out of her hand and pivoted behind her.

But the Wolf tackled him before he could land a finishing blow.

The fight became a storm of limbs, fast, coordinated. The guardians moved like a single body, breathing in sync, never speaking. Every time he blocked one strike, another came from behind or above.

The Fox was cunning, darting in and out, her joints rotating with inhuman fluidity.

The Hare twisted through the air like a ribbon, her attacks landing where János never thought to guard.

The Wolf crushed space with sheer mass and force, slamming János against trees, cracking ribs with every hit.

He stabbed one, kicked another, but the numbers, the speed… it was too much. He dropped the swords.

Blood ran down his temple. His coat was torn. He tried to rise.

The Wolf grabbed his neck and lifted him off the ground.

János gasped. “No last words?” he croaked.

The only reply was the sound of shovels digging.

Sunny’s eyes widened. “He was buried alive!?”

“For two weeks,” she said. “No food, no light, just roots and his own thoughts. They left a tiny air vent, just enough to keep him from suffocating.”

“That’s awful.”

“He deserved worse,” Nadia said, her voice hard but not without feeling. “At least back then. But… when they dug him up again, he wasn’t angry. He just looked tired. Said he understood. Then vanished again.”

“Wait, they didn't arrest him?”

“Nah, arresting him was my mission. They just wanted to rub it in my face that they could beat him. I saw it all from a tree, and I felt so bad for him that I gave him a break, at least for a few years.”

“I didn't know the guards were so... brutal.” Sunny rubbed his hand on top of the table.

“They are beasts, I remember them dancing on his grave. 

♫ Ai vist lo lop, lo rainard, la lèbre

Ai vist lo lop, lo rainard dançar ♫”

“I spent years chasing him,” Nadia continued. “He always stayed just ahead, stealing this, infecting that, vanishing before we could corner him. Eventually I realized he was getting tired. He didn’t want the power anymore. Not really. He just didn’t know what to do without a… mission.”

1790

Château de Vincennes, France.

I hadn’t heard from him in years. But then word came down from the northern contacts, ‘The Duke has been caught.’

They’d arrested him at a party alongside his friend, Donatien Alphonse, the future Marquis de Sade. Not because of his powers, no, because they thought he was just another eccentric nobleman involved in one of de Sade’s many obscene escapades.

I infiltrated the garrison at Vincennes. I dressed as a castle guard, wasn’t hard, I knew the uniforms, and back then they didn’t exactly check faces under the helmets. I was posted just down the corridor from his cell.

They treated him well, all things considered. Velvet-lined cot, decent food, warm clothes. The real torture was the shouting match between the Marquis and Mirabeau from the other cells. They hated each other.

‘You libertine parasite!’

‘Your speeches bore the piss out of me, Gabriel!’

Like clockwork. János just sat there, reading or carving mushrooms into the stone wall.”

“Carving mushrooms?”

“He says it was therapy. I say it was graffiti.” Nadia shook her head. “But that was the strangest part, he wasn’t trying to escape. He wasn’t scheming. He just… stayed. Quiet. Composed. Like prison was a vacation.”

When I opened the slot in his cell door and looked at him… he looked up, blinked, and said, “Nadia, would you mind bringing me a different kind of soap? This one smells like a dead bishop.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to punch him or laugh. Maybe both. But I waited. I watched. And after a while… he asked me what I was going to do once I caught him.

I told him I didn’t know. I’d spent so long chasing him that I’d never planned for the day after. And he just said, “That’s the problem with long revenge arcs. They give you no life after the credits roll.”

Honestly, I didn't even know why I was still going after him. The hybrids who wanted revenge were long dead. Their children didn’t even care anymore. It was just me... chasing a ghost.

She exhaled, lost in the memory.

“But while we were having this quiet, weird conversation through the cell slot...”

Her voice turned dry.

“...the background noise turned into opera. Mirabeau and de Sade were still at it.”

"You’re an embarrassment to France!" Mirabeau barked from across the hall.

"I am France!" de Sade snapped. "Everything glorious and filthy about it!"