Chapter Text
Truthless Recluse wasn’t really expecting Sage of Truth. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Sage never showed up at all. The cookie was kneeling on the grass in his garden, his staff lying among vanilla flowers and milkcrowns. Not many cookies knew that the one feared by so many actually liked gardening. In truth, Recluse was gentle, and if someone asked him kindly, he would help. He didn’t even understand why he was called a beast—maybe because he always told the truth and lived in the scary ‘Peak of Truth.’ Even though Sage of Truth had made people trust him more, Truthless Recluse just wished he could be normal, walk through the streets without attention, and live quietly.
He stayed silent for a few minutes until he heard knocking on wood and a voice he knew all too well—annoying, proud, familiar. Recluse already knew who it was, and he was even a little surprised. Why? Because he thought Sage was supposed to be teaching tonight, not climbing all the way up to his castle. Did Sage really skip class and leave all those students behind just to come here? Recluse couldn’t believe it.
With a sigh, Truthless Recluse got up and walked down the long hallway to the door, where the knocking and shouting of his name kept going. His face looked grumpy, and his hand squeezed the handle hard before opening it.
On the other side stood Sage of Truth, smiling like always, holding bags full of things. Recluse guessed it was food. Sage looked like a kid meeting his idol. He pushed his way inside without asking and even grabbed Recluse’s hand, pulling him along. The blond almost lost his balance and let out a small yelp.
Sage was cheerful, clearly excited to spoil Recluse with everything he knew he liked. The grumpy cookie’s hand was warm and soft—better than any cookie obsessed with skincare could hope to have.
Sage had recently been reading another book about anime, this time a comic. It had a tsundere girl in it, and he thought if he learned from her, maybe he’d know how to deal with Truthless Recluse. Maybe then they could even become friends.
“Where’s the kitchen again?” Sage asked, looking down at the blond, only now realizing how much shorter he was.
“Just a few more steps. The door is on the left,” Recluse answered, glancing that way.
They arrived quickly. Sage set the bags on the table and opened them, showing off cakes and desserts.
“Why don’t you sit and eat with me? There’s no way I can finish all this!” Sage laughed, taking a bite of a sweet.
Recluse sat down across from him, staring at the food.
“Neither can I. Why did you buy so much?” he muttered, not looking directly at Sage.
Still, he picked up a vanilla cheesecake. The moment Sage saw it, he grinned.
“Oh, that one’s special—it came from my friend’s kingdom! Do you know the Saint of Volition?”
Recluse didn’t answer. He just took a small, careful bite, as if afraid the cheesecake would fall apart. His short blond hair slipped over his shoulders, soft and smooth. How could anyone call him a beast? Sage thought he looked like a teenager crushing on a pop idol.
While Sage ate quickly, Recluse was slow, just staring at his cheesecake. Sage, behind his monocle, studied him. He knew all of Recluse’s little habits by now, and he couldn’t understand how Recluse had such low self-esteem. Sage wanted to compliment him until he realized his worth. And, deep down, he also wanted to see him blush.
“Sage?”
Recluse’s voice broke the silence. Sage froze, eyes wide. Recluse had called him by name. It made Sage’s heart race—Recluse was finally opening up.
Recluse stood up and offered his hand. Sage took it immediately, following along. He noticed Recluse holding his hand more often now, and he loved it. He wanted Recluse to keep looking at him, talking to him, staying with him. The truth was, Sage really did like him.
But Recluse wouldn’t look at him directly. His hand got sweaty, his face heated up, and before he knew it, they were outside in the garden. Sage must have guessed the way—after all, it was straight ahead. The grass and flowers calmed Recluse, though the place looked even better with Sage in it. Sage sat down where there were no flowers, and Recluse sat in front of him.
“I didn’t know you liked gardening,” Sage said, touching a vanilla orchid that looked a bit like Recluse’s staff.
“You don’t know anything about me,” Recluse replied sharply, a hint of anger on his face. Sage’s smile faded into something sad, like a puppy left alone. That small reaction made Recluse laugh a little—something Sage noticed instantly. To him, Recluse’s smile was divine.
“Then I’ll just be an idiot who knows nothing—just so I can learn about you from the start,” Sage laughed, twirling his hair in his fingers in a clumsy attempt at flirting.
Recluse stared at him with what looked like disgust. Maybe he just thought Sage was weird.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not some butterfly for you to study,” Recluse muttered, stroking the orchids like they were pets.
“Well, my Truthless, I can’t help it. You’re fascinating!” Sage said, trying to pluck one of the flowers.
Recluse slapped his hand immediately, face filled with anger.
“Don’t. Do you want the flower to die?” he growled.
A moment later he calmed down, but the anger lingered. Sage, without thinking, blurted out:
“You’re perfect when you’re like this.”
He regretted it instantly and started rambling nonsense. Still, Recluse’s cheeks flushed, and he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. His hair looked like silk—so much better than Sage’s, which was stiff with gel. Sage wondered if Recluse avoided products by choice or because he couldn’t afford them. If it was money, Sage would give him everything he needed.
“You really think that?” Recluse asked, showing a shy, small smile. Sage felt like he’d discovered something priceless.
Unable to resist, Sage hugged him gently around the waist, his nose brushing against Recluse’s neck. Recluse frowned and pouted, but didn’t push him away.
“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” Recluse muttered, leaning his head lightly on Sage’s. Inside, Sage was celebrating.
He blushed, staring at the blond. He couldn’t take it anymore. If his students saw this, they’d probably call him a simp, but he didn’t care. Having Truthless Recluse close to him felt like a blessing.
“That’s enough. Your fun is over,” Recluse growled, pushing him away.
“I just want to hold your hand!” Sage whined like a child. He was so close to getting more of Recluse’s affection, if only he would let him.
“Go away, my Sage.”
With no choice, Sage stood up and walked to the exit. He waved, and Recluse waved back. One day, Sage promised himself, he would reach the deepest part of Truthless Recluse’s heart—and finally be at his side.