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Chapter Text

"Mother Nature thought she played a good one, Kase." Oliver pointed at him with a pretzel stick. It was about to be dunked in fondue, of which kind the universe had yet to know. "She sends snow the day after Thanksgiving, and that way, she thinks no one can argue with her."

So the pretzel was doomed to be covered in melted chocolate. Oliver ate it in two bites.

"But she made a crucial mistake. See, you think one must accept the inevitability of the holiday season after the end of Thanksgiving and the snow and Christmas songs on the radio that come along with it, but we can just as easily justify waiting until the winter solstice to accept snowy weather."

"Undoubtedly," said Fukase, listening intently. He selected a cookie from the platters of biscuits and pretzels and other tiny snacks. Cul was going all out for her party. He didn't dip the cookie in fondue, but ate it in small bites, savoring it.

"When's the winter solstice, again?" he asked.

"December 21st," Oliver replied. "Last year it was on the 22nd. I took that personally. I was born on the winter solstice, so even though it can even fall on the 24th, I have a bias for the 21st."

"Oh, right. I almost forgot your birthday is so close to Christmas."

"I take that personally as well! What kind of boyfriend are you? I would never forget your birthday."

"Oh yeah? What is it, then?"

Oliver had been bluffing, but Fukase didn't know that. At that moment, Cul came rushing down the stairs with a cardboard box filled with strings of electric lights. When she saw the two boys snacking on the snack platters, she let out a gasp that could win an Oscar.

"Fukase! I told you not to eat those. They're for my guests!"

Fukase tilted his head. "Don't you think having a Friendsgiving after the real Thanksgiving is kinda lame?"

"It is not!"

"I think it is," added Oliver.

"Hey. No teasing my sister." Fukase jabbed him in the side. "Only I can do that."

"Why don't you go take a hike in the snow?" Cul dumped the box out on a chair. "I don't want you two here when my friends show up."

"Nah." Oliver grabbed another pretzel to protest from Cul, dipped it in chocolate, and was about to eat it when Fukase snatched the pretzel out of his hands and popped it into his mouth. Oliver quickly followed him, stealing a peck on the lips.

Fukase almost choked on the pretzel as Oliver laughed.

"Gross!" Cul playfully pulled out Fukase's chair and hit his shoulder. "Just leave already."

"All right, all right!" Fukase stood, waving her off. "Where's my coat?"

On his way to the door, Oliver grabbed a handful of assorted nuts.

"Put those back!" Cul glared as she moved in front of her fondue spread.

"No."

"I hate your boyfriend, Fukase! Get a new one!"

"But I like this one." Fukase slung an arm around Oliver, who stuck out his tongue.

Cul threw the cardboard box at them.

=•=•=

Soon they were outside, Fukase dressed in layers and Oliver wearing a light jacket. They walked with their hands casually joined, as if they did it every day.

Fukase remembered when he was too shy to hold hands. His were rough and scarred, but Oliver held them lightly and almost unconsciously, like he did with everyone. Ever since they had started dating, Fukase was less and less self conscious about his looks.

"So, anywhere special you want to go?" Fukase asked.

"Mm, nah." Oliver swung his arm, pulling Fukase's hand with it. "We can just walk."

"Gonna let my little sister decide what we do, huh?"

His comment seemed to change Oliver's mind. "Wanna go ice skating?"

"You can't whine about snow one minute then want to go ice skating the next."

"Fine. Even though that wasn't a minute ago. You suggest something."

"All right."

They passed a few other shops and the bookstore on the corner. Several snowflakes fell from the sky, not threatening, but peaceful. Fukase idly thought about putting his hands in his pockets to warm them up. Then Oliver squeezed his hand and he decided he would rather have cold fingers.

"Do you want to go get something to drink? Maybe hot chocolate?" There was a new café Fukase wanted to check out a couple blocks down.

"You've ruined hot chocolate for me, remember?" Oliver kicked at the ground. "Nothing else even starts to compare with your recipe."

Fukase smiled. Typical Oliver, disguising compliments with complaints.

"Let's just go to the park, then. Unless I've ruined them for you, too?"

"No." Oliver suddenly moved closer to Fukase, letting go of his hand and linking arms instead. "The park is good."

Fukase couldn't help standing a little straighter. "Good."

They walked in silence for a while. Fukase paid close attention to the slight changes in Oliver's gait and accommodated for them by adjusting his own stride. Not once did he disrupt the rhythm.

They soon reached the park. Snow lightly dusted the grass and branches of trees like frost. It would've been a pitiful sight for December, but for November is was a gallant effort.

Oliver blew out into the air and shivered, pressing closer to Fukase's side.

"You should get a heavier coat," Fukase commented.

"Weren't you listening at all back at the café?" Oliver pointed to his own ear. "If I put on a winter coat, that means I've accepted it's winter and Mother Nature wins. Therefore, I will not wear a coat until the 21st." He nodded like he was proud of himself.

Fukase found the rhythm again, and laughed. "Still going on about that? Do you want my scarf?" He began unwinding the ends.

"Yes." Oliver turned towards him and stopped walking. "It's still freezing out here. Scarves don't count."

Fukase didn't ask for permission before carefully wrapping the scarf around Oliver's neck himself and tucking in one of the ends. He loved how straightforward Oliver was in matters like these. No beating around the bush whatsoever. It was nice. He shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to walk.

"Mm, it's already warm." Oliver pressed his hands into the fabric's folds, and covered his mouth with them, muffling his voice. "Preheated scarves should be a thing. And this smells nice."

"I'm glad you like it." Fukase felt his face heat up, and mentally blamed it on the cold. "If someone invents a scarf with a heating feature, I'll get one for you."

"No, I won't need one. I've got you."

"It isn't my job to keep you warm."

"No? Then why am I dating you?"

"It's my job to make sure you can keep yourself warm."

Oliver pouted. "You're so practical. It takes the fun out of everything."

"Let's sit here." Fukase pointed to a bench. It was one of the few that were clear of snow. Oliver plopped down, not even checking to see if he was sitting in a puddle of melted ice. Fukase was more cautious, brushing off the boards with his coat sleeve before taking a seat. Oliver leaned on his shoulder.

"So..." Fukase started. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"Gah!" Oliver pulled back and made a face like he had eaten something bitter. "So tactless!"

"I want to make sure I get something you like."

"Okay," Oliver laughed. "Smart. I guess. I'll accept it."

"So, what do you want?"

"I don't know. Double-sided tape?" Oliver slouched forward, resting his chin in his hands.

"Eh?" Fukase's eyebrows jumped up as he grinned. "Now who's the practical one?"

Oliver didn't seem to notice Fukase's jab, and instead stared off into the distance. "I never hung up the posters we got at that concert. " His voice slowed and lost its usual edge. He seemed to be lost in thought. "Double-sided tape... would make them look nice, right?"

"Where do you plan on hanging them?" Fukase eased back on the bench, pulling Oliver with him and back to the conversation.

"Hm?" Oliver looked at him with an expression like a washed window. "Hanging what?"

"The posters, Oliver." Fukase lowered his voice and spoke patiently, taking Oliver's hand and looking him in the eye. "We were talking about that band's posters you have. Where are you going to hang them?"

Oliver stared at him for a moment more, and Fukase was about to ask him if he wanted to go home before he leapt back into the conversation like a sudden storm.

"Don't you think it's weird when people put posters above their bed? I think it's weird, like what if it falls down on your face while you sleep? What if you have sleep paralysis and can't get it off and you suffocate? And hanging posters in your bedroom makes you seem like a nerd, no matter what they're of. Know what? You can have them, Kase. I'll bring them to you at school on Monday, okay? Just promise you won't throw them away cuz that's a waste. Do you promise that?"

"Sure." Fukase gave a slight laugh. Oliver seemed to have an unlimited air supply when it came to absentminded chatter. "Maybe Cul will like them. She's listened to like, every band there is."

"Right. How 'bout we go somewhere else." Oliver stood, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "I don't like it here."

"Okay."

They went back the way they came, Oliver holding Fukase's hand much tighter than before.

They talked about nothing for a while, but Fukase couldn't stop thinking. He never knew what to do about the times Oliver seemed to disappear. This was the fourth time it had happened. Fukase knew people who zoned out during conversations, but never so suddenly and thoroughly like Oliver. He was scared to bring it up.

Oliver's phone buzzed. "Oh. I should take this."

Fukase pretended to look into the nearest window display as Oliver answered the call.

"Hi... I know, sorry."

The window was for a stationery store. A couple of personalized holiday cards and wedding invitations were featured, filled with pictures of models smiling blankly with empty eyes. Or maybe it was the printing that made them look soulless. Fukase didn't know.

"I'm sorry. I'll be home in a minute."

Fukase turned back to Oliver as he put his phone into his pocket.

"Uh, I've gotta get back to the house."

"Right. I'll walk you there."

"Um, no." Oliver seemed to argue with himself for a heartbeat. "I should, I should go by myself."

"Right," Fukase repeated.

They stood there for moment, simply looking at each other.

"See you later." Fukase turned to leave. He understood.

"Wait!"

"Yeah?" Fukase looked back at Oliver.

Oliver froze, then beamed, playing with the edge of his scarf. "Thanks."

Fukase tilted his head. "For what?"

The light turned green and Oliver dashed across the street before Fukase could read his expression.

"Nothing, you idiot!"

Chapter Text

"I feel like I'm forgetting something," said Fukase. He walked next to Oliver down the bustling street, looking through the reminder app on his phone. "But I don't have any notes."

"You and your notes." Oliver elbowed him in the side.  "Would you forget to breathe if you didn't write it down?"

Fukase scratched his neck and locked his phone. "Undoubtedly."

"Oh! Speaking of, I almost forgot I brought these along." Oliver pulled a small bundle of tin foil from his inside jacket pocket. 

"What are they again?" Fukase asked. 

"Biscochitos. They're like a type of Mexican butter cookie. My grandparents gave them to us, but apparently I'm the only one in my family who likes them." He held them up. "I thought they might go good with the coffee."

"So that's where we're going." Fukase moved around a patch of ice on the sidewalk.

"Didn't I tell you?" 

"No, you just said 'Let's go.'"

"Oh." Oliver looked ahead. "Well, we're meeting Flower there. Did I tell you that?"

"No, you just said 'Let's go.'"

"I did say that, didn't I?" Oliver mused as he stepped in a puddle. 

The coffee shop had an almost steady stream of people in and out the front doors. A couple fliers hung on the window advertising new breakfast items. 

Fukase easily spotted Flower sitting at an outside table with three cups in front of her. He couldn't help thinking she looked like a hipster with her red plaid coat and Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses. Maybe that's what this week's fashion phase was. 

"I'm not staying long and I hate talking in line," she explained, gesturing to the cups on the table. "That's one's yours and that one's Oliver's. Even though you were supposed to buy me coffee."

"Thanks," said Fukase as he took a seat on her left. Even though he thought all coffee tasted the same—okay—he made a mental note to repay her. 

"I'm not going to pay you back, just so you know," Oliver said, taking the lid off his drink and putting it back on. "And where are you going? March for wallflower rights?"

She smirked and tapped the table. "For your information, I actually got a hot date."

"With your dog?" Oliver smiled innocently. 

She gave him a hard stare. "I'm gonna act like you didn't say that and you're going to rethink your life before you open your mouth again."

Oliver unwrapped the biscochitos, shrugging like he didn't know what Flower was talking about. 

"Better stay quiet if you don't want your head bitten off," Fukase warned as he reached for a cookie. 

Oliver replied, "Careful, they're crummy."

"Wait. Then why are we eating them?" Fukase inspected the cookie he choose. Maybe nobody in Oliver's family liked them for a reason. 

"I mean they make a lot of crumbs," Oliver said. 

"Then just say they're crumbly."

Oliver took Fukase's free hand and stared him in the eye. "Who the hell says that?"

"Hey, look," Flower interrupted. "Preppies at nine o'clock."

Len, Xin Hua, and another guy Fukase couldn't name walked out of the coffee shop, each carrying a disposable tray with multiple coffee cups. Probably off to meet their other friends from the school's bowling club.

"Gah, they act so pretentious," Flower huffed. "Especially Len."

They did look like preppies, with their perfectly groomed hair and clearly high-price clothes, but Fukase didn't like Flower's hypocritical labeling. 

Or maybe he didn't like that he agreed with her. 

"But it's kinda sad," she continued. "That kid used to be so sweet."

"Len was never sweet." Oliver broke a cookie in half and crumbs scattered across the table.

"Back in middle school he was super nice to everyone," Flower said, brushing crumbs away. "But I will agree he's a right preppie jerk now. Him and the whole jerky bowling club."

She looked at Fukase and he voiced a halfhearted agreement. 

He never thought of bowling as a pretentious sport, but the way the preppies ran the club made him change his mind. It was probably against the school rules to only allow certain people to join a club, but nobody dared call them out on it. He couldn't tell what Oliver was thinking, but didn't have to wonder for long.

"Do you ever wonder what it's like to have like, a whole lotta close friends?" Oliver stared after the preppie trio as they strolled away. 

"Like Len?" Flower asked. "Are you jealous?"

"No! I mean like a person... who has a whole lotta friends."

"Because there's a difference." Flower raised an eyebrow. 

"There is!" Oliver waved his cookie for emphasis, and more crumbs fell. 

"Why are you asking?" Fukase said. 

"Well, I was just thinking, I literally don't have any other friends other than you two." Oliver spoke in such a deadpan voice, Fukase couldn't help a snicker. 

"You worry too much for a blond," said Flower, running a hand through her cropped hair. "Let's talk about something else."

"I'm saving up for a car," Fukase offered. 

"Oh yeah!" Flower clapped sharply. "Oliver, did you get your learner's permit?"

"Not yet," Oliver hedged, wadding up the tin foil. "I'm just not that interested."

"Then when? I applied for mine when I was fifteen."

Oliver mumbled into his drink. "Well, you're just like that."

"Excuse me?" Flower peered through her sunglasses like she could find the insult if she looked at him hard enough. Fukase held back a laugh. 

A car honked. The driver of a silver Suzuki idling next to the curb waved his arm. Fukase almost waved back before he realized the driver wasn't waving at him. 

"Here's my ride." Flower stood with her cup in hand. "See you guys later."

"Wait, what? I thought you had a car," Oliver said. 

"Yeah, I do, but I'm technically grounded right now." She started to walk backwards towards the curb. "Can't use it 'til Monday."

"Grounded?" Oliver perked up. "Flower the Lady of Justice is grounded? Are we witnessing history?"

"What for?" Fukase asked as Flower spun on her heel. 

"Mind your own business," she called over her shoulder. 

They watched as she leaned into the open car window to give the driver a kiss, then swung into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. The silver car drove off and Fukase looked back at Oliver to find him gaping. 

"Oh my God, she actually had a date." 

Fukase laughed. "Yeah, she did."

"Why are you laughing? Didn't you see that?" Oliver threw out his arm. "She totally just kissed the guy!" 

"Why are you getting so worked up? We met him like a week ago." Fukase looked up, then to the left. "Or were you there?"

"Pretty sure I'd remember if I was," said Oliver, exasperated. "What do you know about him? What's his name?"

"Uh..." Fukase pressed two fingers to his temple. "Huh. I don't remember. That's weird."

Oliver looked where the silver Suzuki had drove off. "Maybe we should beat him up."

"What?" Fukase broke into laughter, almost knocking over his drink. "Why?"

He stopped laughing when he realized Oliver had frozen, still staring after the car, unblinking like he had been replaced with a statue. Fukase's breath caught in his throat. 

"Oliver?"

Please don't. Don't disappear. 

"Maybe it's just me, but.." Oliver halted, inspecting his hands. 

"You can tell me anything," Fukase said quickly. 

"Why so serious? I just thought that maybe that guy's face was" —He tapped his lips—"kinda blurry? For some reason?"

Fukase looked at Oliver for a moment, and when he didn't seem to fade out, thought back. He remembered the driver waving, but any and all details of the guy's face were lost. Heck, how did he even know it was a guy?

"Hey, you're right. His face was blurry."

"Yeah." A slim girl with white hair leaned her elbow on the table. "Poor guy's only there to fill a plot hole. Good for us, not so much for him. And didn't they stop selling Suzukis?"

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Fukase stared at her deep blue eyes. They were strangely familiar. 

"No one you've met in this trashy fanfic." She sauntered away in the direction the Suzuki went, the earth rippling in her wake. "See you in a later chapter, you two. I've got a plot device to catch."

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Fukase rubbed his eyes. 

"Wait, what were we talking about?"

Oliver took an extra long sip of coffee and spoke to the cup instead of Fukase. "My learner's permit."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Fukase paused as he thought about what to say. "I was kinda nervous about driving too, but once you start practicing, it stops being scary."

"I'm not scared of driving." Oliver spoke with such cold sincerity, Fukase couldn't speak, words freezing on his tongue.

"I'm scared of kids jumping out." Oliver stared at the table, his voice low so only Fukase could hear him. "I'm terrible at paying attention to things. I've been forgetting stuff lately. I feel like I'm dreaming half the time I'm awake and—" He cut off and rubbed his neck. "I don't feel like talking about it right now."

This has to be the reason behind Oliver's sudden disappearances. Fukase wanted to know more, but didn't press. 

"You know I'm here to listen if you are," Fukase said. 

"I know. It's not you." Oliver leaned over to kiss Fukase's cheek. "I'm just in a bad mood today and I don't want to spread it.  I'll talk to you at school. Bye."

"See you later." 

Fukase gazed after Oliver as he dropped his empty cup in the trash and walked away with his hands in his pockets. Fukase wanted to help so much, it was an almost tangible ache in his chest. 

The day had started out so good. 

But there was always tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Well.

You're making things... 
very interesting.

Care to introduce yourself?

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Ignoring me, Ia?

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I can see where you 
inserted your name 
in the tags.

Did you think 
I wouldn't notice?

I'm  the  Author .

I notice everything.

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But I'll  allow  you to stay.

I'd like to see where this goes,
if you're able to keep up.

It's a fanfiction— 
Anything can happen!

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But if you even touch 
my favorite character, 
I won't hesitate to erase you.

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Chapter Text

In a land far away and deep in the past, two tribes existed.

The first were called the Faeji. They were mysterious and beautiful, heavenly beings. Their dark wings allowed them to soar across the sky with the simple effort of inhaling the wind.

The second were called the Juhmí. They were ugly and pale, cursed to be forever bound to the earth, and looked upon the Faeji and their wings with jealousy and spite.

It would be natural to assume they had nothing to do with one another.

But, if only that were true.

If a Juhmí could slay a Faeji, the victor would earn the power of flight. And every Juhmí coveted that power more than anything, even their own lives.

So, until the Juhmí would stop trying to break their bonds to the earth and take to the sky with stolen wings, the would be no end to the war between tribes.

=•=•=

Of all the Faeji, he was the most foolish.

With hair the color of blood and wings as dark as ebony, he was a paragon of how a Faeji should appear. However, his spirit was marred with a morbid curiosity. The other Faeji ignored the song drifting from the Shifting Forest with steadfast determination. He alone paid heed.

The song, haunting and beautiful, could always be heard as the sun sank in the sky, falling behind the trees. It was sung without words, a lullaby that swelled with the forest's deepening slumber.

Tonight he would find the singer.

It could be a trap, his tribe warned him. A Juhmí could be waiting in the darkness for a chance at stealing his wings. It was better to wait for the flighty hopeful to come to him. They all did, eventually. The Juhmí were much too fickle to stick to one place or plan for long.

Besides, no one entered the Shifting Forest. There were too many places to be trapped, to be ambushed, to have the wings ripped from one's back. And the forest constantly shifted, as its name implied. One day the forest could be deciduous, and the next, petrified.

The night he entered the forest, tall black pines stretched up from the earth, casting sharp shadows on withered grass.

He strode through the trees, the pines dwarfing him in stature like sentinels guarding the gates of heaven. A chill snaked its way through the underbrush and around his ankles.

The forest only shifted only in his peripheral vision. A thorny branch in the bushes transformed into a vine with violet blossoms. To his left, the bark on a tree twisted into a face, then to an eye, then to simple wood once again. He refused to let the shifts steal his attention and continued to walk with his wings tucked close behind his back. 

It started off slow and low in the distance, a gentle lullaby sung without words, deceptively warm and familiar.

He continued to walk. Never stopping, never slowing, until he was well into the dark forest. Soon the voice was directly above him, floating down from a distant treetop. Or so he thought.

He spoke as confidently as possible, projecting his words upwards with the utmost conviction.

"Who are you?"

The voice disappeared.

A force struck him like an arrow in the chest so fast and strong it toppled him over and caused him to roll several times over the grass until a strange body prevailed, pinning him down with terrifying ease.

He gasped as a cold blade pressed against his throat. 

This was the last moment of his life, he knew.

But maybe...

Maybe there would be something in his attacker's face, some semblance of a righteousness that deserved wings more than he.

Fukase opened his eyes.

But there was only the face of a boy of Juhmí hideousness above him, tears streaming from yellowed eyes, down pallid cheeks, and dripping onto Fukase's forehead.

This creature was

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familiar?

"Oli—-"

The knife stole his breath away.

Chapter Text

10:54 am

Kase

Hey

I had a weird dream last night

Did you just wake up?

What no

Haha, oh really?

Really!!!

Sleeping in all the time 
is a really bad habit.

I wasnt sleeping in!!!

Besides its the weekend

I think i deserve 
a little sleeping in

So he admits it!

*even though i wasnt

Okay, okay,

What was your dream about?

Weeeeeeiiiirrddd stuff

I had to like kill someone

To get wings or 
something idk

It was weird

Like an angel?

Angels dont kill people?

I thought angels were 
some kind of holy avenger..

Theyre messengers 
for the gods idiot

Do you believe in 
multiple gods?

Uh no

Anyway, about that person 
you were trying to kill,

I'm concerned for him.

It's not like it 
actually happened!!

Was it anyone I know?

I heard you can't make 
up faces while dreaming.

Nah i dont think i 
ever killed him

Woke up befor that

I had a weird dream too.

*before

About?

I think you were in it, but 
I don't really remember.

Of course im 
in your dreams

Haha, sure

You cant get me 
outta your head

;))))

I'll see you at Len's 
party tomorrow, right?

Way to change 
the subject!!

Wait what

You got invited to that????

What?

Len asked both of us to come.

What??????

Len hates me

Ever since middle school

No, he doesn't?

What are you talking about?

What are YOU talking about???

Did you and Len have a fight 
I don't know about?

Were we ever close enough 
to have a fight ? ?

When did this invitation 
happen??

At lunch the other day.

Are you okay?

Did you hit your head 
or something?

I dont remember that?????

Like at all??????

Lndkndkdndkdn

Tell me youre joking 
im freaking out rn

1:39 pm

Kase????

2:18 pm

Kase??????????

2:52 pm

Tell me ur joking!!!

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Is this Oliver?

Duh is this fukase?

No, it is not

Uh

??

Stop joking around and 
explain yourself already

My name is Ia

Wait for me in 
the next chapter

What?

Chapter Text

"I think that girl over there is staring at me," Cul said as she pushed mashed potatoes around her lunch tray with a plastic fork. "But I'm sure I've never seen her before."

"What? Where?" Rin leaned forward.

Cul made a vague pointing gesture, and Rin turned around. Several high school cafeteria tables away, a girl sat alone with no lunch. Light blond hair fell in almost white waves over her slight shoulders, and she rested her chin in long, knit-together fingers. She was looking straight at them.

Or maybe past them?

"Creepy," said Rin, facing Cul again. "I wonder what her problem is."

"Whatever it is, I hope it's not with me," Cul said. "I'd rather not hash it out with a complete stranger."

"What, do you think she's gonna start a fight?" Rin laughed.

Len sat next to them, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Wow, Len," Rin said, leaning her elbow on the table. "Sitting with us again. Your new 'friends' ditch you?"

"Shut up." He punctuated his statement by popping open his soda can. Based on his diet, the kid probably lived off the vending machine.

"Ooh, touchy," Rin mimped. Cul snickered.

"Rin Mirane, I swear," Len growled. "If you don't shut your mouth—"

"You'll what?" Rin gave a steely glare.

Len stared back for a moment before turning away and slurping his drink.

"Thought so." Rin carded a hand through her hair. To Cul, Rin started to say something about fondue, but she didn't hear.

Cul glanced over at the white-haired girl again. Yup, still staring. Did she have eyelids?

"Seriously though, Rin," Cul leaned closer. "That girl is freaking me out. Do you think we should move?"

"Well..." Rin turned around again and Cul did the same, then noticed a boy approaching from the same direction.

"Hey Cul, quick question." He stopped at the edge of their table. "Do you know where Fukase is? He isn't responding to any of my texts."

Cul stared as the boy talked, trying to place him. His scruffy blond hair and round freckled face didn't ring any bells, but he knew her name? "What?"

"He wasn't in homeroom this morning and I was just wondering."

The two girls simply blinked at him for a minute. Cul couldn't help feeling awkward at how the boy looked at her, expectant, but not directly, like he was talking to someone behind her. If he hadn't said her name, she would've thought he was.

"Who?" Rin broke the silence with a short laugh. "Do you know a Fukase, Cul?"

"Uh, I don't think so. Do I know you?" she asked the boy.

"What?" He seemed to go blank for a moment. "Fukase is your brother."

At this, Rin openly laughed in the boy's face. "Oh my God, what? Cul, do you have a lost brother you didn't tell me about?"

"I've never heard that name before." Cul smiled out of confusion. "But really, who are you?"

"Um, I'm Oliver..." He trailed off as if he wasn't sure he should've said that. Looking closer, Cul noticed a small cloud covering the pupil in his left eye. Weird. So he was actually looking at her.

"Well, Oliver, you obviously have the wrong person, so," Rin waved her hand. "Bye!"

"I must've gotten people mixed up. I guess I'm just a little out of it today." He wavered a little, than left.

Cul watched him walk away, than turned to Rin and

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Cul watched

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Cul

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Oliver

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Oliver walked away.

He felt the shift as soon as it happened. Goosebumps prickled on his neck, like dozens of invisible eyes were watching, noting and evaluating every move he made.

He suddenly wanted to hide. The lunchroom looked the same as ever, but he felt as if a spotlight shone on him, and everyone was staring. He quickly walked towards the exit, keeping his head down. What happened? Why was everyone looking at him? Did they see the entirety of that awkward exchange?

Or maybe... maybe it happened again. Maybe he had zoned out, standing there staring at them and hadn't actually said anything even though he thought he had. Fukase would've brought him back, he always did without question, but without Kase here—

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't notice the kid standing by the lunchroom doors until he almost tripped over both their legs.

"Watch it."

The kid had muttered, but it sounded like a shout. Oliver almost apologized in his confusion, but kept his lips sealed. Opening them would most definitely release some sort of unwanted cry.

He swerved away as every sense worked in overdrive, quickly walking down the hall, then yanked open the closest door and went inside. Breathing hard, he found himself in the unused midi lab, faced with stacks of boxes and keyboards. A thin layer of dust coated the black and white keys.

The strange feeling dulled, but it was still there. Someone, somewhere, was watching him. Reading his every move—

Oliver shook his head and let out a breath.

He was overreacting. Just a little paranoid because he didn't know where Fukase was. That was it, nothing more. Cul and her friend were probably playing some dumb joke.

He could go ask his homeroom teacher if she knew why Fukase was absent. Yeah, Kase had a right to do his own thing and he didn't have to keep in touch 24/7, but Oliver liked to be in the know.

Worry thrummed beneath his skin.

Or maybe "liked" was too weak of a word to describe it.

All right then, homeroom teacher. A start. He turned around and started again.

A slim girl with long white hair closed the door to the midi lab behind her, keeping her fingers on the handle as she squinted at him for a moment.

Then she visibly relaxed and let out a sigh.

"Oh, thank God it worked," she said, brushing her long bangs from her eyes.

Oliver said the first thing that came to mind. "You're not supposed to be in here."

"I know," she replied. "I don't belong here, you don't belong here, and anyone else with a name or a face shouldn't be here either."

Oliver stared at her. The girl seemed familiar, but she gave off the impression she didn't go to this school. If she did, that shirt falling off her shoulder would surely get her dress coded.

"There's only two of us here, if you're not counting dust bunnies," he said finally, and moved to leave, but the girl held up her hand to stop him.

"Just let me talk for a bit," she said. "The thing is, I made you narrator for the rest of this chapter." She held up one finger. "But I don't know how long it'll last, so I'll have to talk fast."

"What are you talking about?"

"We know each other, Oliver." She took a step forward. "But our lives have been hijacked by this person who calls themselves the Author, and they've been manipulating us ever since. I was lucky enough not to have a role in the story, so I'm not controlled. I'm trying to save you and everybody else."

"Is this some kind of joke?" Oliver considered walking around her and leaving, but this girl was too strange not to be curious. If this was a prank, it was a pretty elaborate one.

"This isn't a joke, I swear. Do you remember anything about me?" Her expression softened for a moment. "My name is Ia. You remember that, at least, don't you?"

"No, I don't."

"Not even my text messages?"

Oliver shook his head and crossed his arms. In fact, there was something stirring in his head at the sound of the name, but he couldn't be so sure.

"Listen to me. Haven't you noticed things changing? Like people's personalities and relationships and even their existence? The Author went full on fantasy a couple chapters back! That wasn't a dream you had. It actually happened."

"So, we're in a book?" Oliver felt stupid just saying the words.

"Technically a fanfiction, but yes."

"Why should I believe you?"

"I know what happened to Fukase." Her expression was dead serious. "He isn't ignoring you, he isn't sick, and he isn't off sluffing school."

Oliver froze. She had struck a nerve. He had been trying to keep calm, but that morning, the café was closed, and Fukase wasn't responding to his texts or calls, and now Kase's own sister didn't remember him, and Oliver was worried out of his mind about it.

"What happened, then?" He couldn't keep the tremor from his voice. "Where did he go?"

"The Author decided he doesn't need to exist in this chapter. So, for these seven pages, he's been obliterated."

"Obliterated?" Oliver stumbled over the word.

"Yes. Gone."

"Fukase's... dead?" Oliver didn't believe it, but the words still sent a chill down his spine.

"In effect," Ia corrected.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He couldn't shake the feeling she was messing with him, though her demeanor stated otherwise. "He's probably just home with a cold and has his phone turned off."

"Do you really believe that?" She pointed at him. "How about this, then? You keep zoning out big-time and you don't know why, but you're too prideful to say anything to anyone so you ignore it even though it's scaring you!"

Oliver's heart skipped a beat. "How—? How did you know that?" he sputtered.

"It's all in the tags." Ia looked incredibly pleased with herself. "This is a hurt/comfort fic. In order to be comforted, you've gotta be hurt first, right? This is just the author's half-assed attempt at giving you an interesting problem because they couldn't think up a real issue to give you."

Oliver opened his mouth, but no words came out. Was this girl for real?

"And anyone can tell that Fukase, as the main character, is set to be the one providing the comfort. I'd say we're lucky we're in such a mild setting. I've seen fanfics where the hurt is a lot worse." Ia shifted her feet and muttered to herself, "Unless the Author has some cliché trauma set up in the wings..."

"If Fukase's the main character, why isn't he here? Why aren't you talking to him?" Almost desperately, Oliver tried to find a hole in her story. How did she know these things?

"It took me a couple chapters to figure it out, but you're the Author's favorite character. Therefore, you have a little something called plot armor. That means whatever happens in the story, you'll never die, or, like Kase, drop out of existence for a chapter."

"This doesn't make any sense. You're not proving anything to me. This isn't a book, it's real life. I've lived here my whole life. You're saying my whole life is a lie?"

"Am I?" She lifted her chin. "Tell me. What's your last name?"

"It's—"

He stopped.

Ia rested a hand on her hip. "How about Fukase's?"

"It's..."

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*

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This was happening?

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He had to believe it was happening?

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Ia pulled a black ring box from her pocket.

"Now, do you remember Flower's 'boyfriend?'"

"What does he have to do with anything?" Oliver was too busy trying to remember Flower's surname, unconsciously fiddling with his hands like he could count names on his fingers.

"I'd like to reintroduce you."

"What?" The dust in the room was about to make Oliver sneeze. "Are you about to tell me he's inside that box?"

"You know the perfect way to fill up a plot hole?"

"No, I've never had to."

"One simple thing: A plot device."

She opened the box, and a black cloud poured out of it, so dark it seemed to bend reality around it. The dense cloud slowly formed into the vague humanoid shape of a person.

A person made out of nothing.

A literal nobody.

"I'd like you to meet the very repurposable Plot Device #23. This guy allows the main characters to talk alone by acting exclusively as another point of interest for side characters. Usually comes in the form of a family member, a coworker/boss, or, in this case, a significant other. He'll give Fukase all the time he needs to talk to you about your 'unknown illness,' however"—she rolled her shoulders—"Fukase seems to be a little slow on the draw here, doesn't he?"

She seized the shadowy human figure by its arm and yanked hard, grabbing onto the nothingness with both pale hands like it was a large sheet of newspaper.

"And since I'd rather go home then spend another couple weeks here in this trashy fic, it's time I got you on my side for real."

As Oliver gaped, Ia crushed the form into a small, oily-looking ball, which she then tossed from hand to hand like she had just taken it off a cookie pan.

"It's not like I've had a chance to try this before, so forgive me if you get easy amnesia." Ia stretched out her arm, took a step back, then wound up for what looked like a baseball pitch.

Oliver took a step back also as she obviously took aim at his head. "Huh? Hey—Wait a second!"

She let the ball fly.

Chapter Text

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Oh my God.

Like, wow.

Just, wow.

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I made a really ominous threat and everything, and you still went and chucked a weird baseball/plotdevice thing at my favorite character?

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You could give someone a concussion like that, you freakin' weirdo.

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I'll have to  withhold the plot in  the next couple chapters to make sure you didn't damage anything.

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And how the heck did you cheat the narration like that?

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That chapter was supposed to start the comedic side plot with Cul and Rin and I had this whole hilarious conversation about fondue planned out—

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You know what? Never mind. I'll bring up the fondue in another chapter.

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Or maybe I'll change it and start a whole new storyline. It's mine, after all.

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Anyway, guess I gotta follow through on my threat and erase you if I wanna keep my credibility.

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But hey, I gave you fair warning.

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Bye bye, Ia.

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I thought you would be more fun.

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Chapter Text

I̶a̶ ̶d̶i̶s̶a̶p̶p̶e̶a̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶s̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶o̶r̶d̶e̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ ̶c̶h̶o̶c̶o̶l̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶F̶u̶k̶a̶s̶e̶'̶s̶ ̶f̶a̶m̶i̶l̶y̶'̶s̶ ̶c̶a̶f̶é̶.̶
̶
̶C̶u̶l̶ ̶r̶u̶b̶b̶e̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶e̶y̶e̶s̶.̶ ̶M̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ ̶t̶a̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶ ̶s̶h̶i̶f̶t̶ ̶f̶i̶r̶s̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶r̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶ ̶n̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶c̶r̶a̶m̶m̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶b̶a̶d̶ ̶i̶d̶e̶a̶.̶
̶
̶M̶e̶a̶n̶w̶h̶i̶l̶e̶,̶ ̶P̶̶̶i̶̶̶k̶̶̶o̶̶̶ ̶̶̶s̶̶̶k̶̶̶a̶̶̶t̶̶̶e̶̶̶b̶̶̶o̶̶̶a̶̶̶r̶̶̶d̶̶̶e̶̶̶d̶̶̶ ̶̶̶t̶̶̶h̶̶̶r̶̶̶o̶̶̶u̶̶̶g̶̶̶h̶̶̶ ̶̶̶y̶̶̶e̶̶̶t̶̶̶ ̶̶̶a̶̶̶n̶̶̶o̶̶̶t̶̶̶h̶̶̶e̶̶̶r̶̶̶ ̶̶̶p̶̶̶l̶̶̶o̶̶̶t̶̶̶ ̶̶̶h̶̶̶o̶̶̶l̶̶̶e̶̶̶,̶̶̶ ̶̶̶a̶̶̶n̶̶̶d̶̶̶ ̶̶̶w̶̶̶a̶̶̶s̶̶̶ ̶̶̶m̶̶̶e̶̶̶t̶̶̶ ̶̶̶w̶̶̶i̶̶̶t̶̶̶h̶̶̶ ̶̶̶a̶̶̶ ̶̶̶w̶̶̶h̶̶̶i̶̶̶t̶̶̶e̶̶̶ ̶̶̶w̶̶̶a̶̶̶l̶̶̶l̶̶̶.̶̶̶
̶ ̶
̶̶̶"̶̶̶A̶̶̶h̶̶̶,̶̶̶ ̶̶̶w̶̶̶h̶̶̶e̶̶̶r̶̶̶e̶̶̶ ̶̶̶t̶̶̶h̶̶̶e̶̶̶ ̶̶̶h̶̶̶e̶̶̶l̶̶̶l̶̶̶ ̶̶̶a̶̶̶m̶̶̶ ̶̶̶I̶̶̶?̶̶̶"̶̶̶

Chapter Text

Oliver had lived at the Ocahame House for weeks now, and still hadn't seen any part of it except for the small room they kept him in.

From the day he ran, the only thing he remembered entirely was waking up here. Only little snippets of that day were clear in his mind. The smell of burnt hair and sweat, the rubbery sound of duct tape, and the weight of his brother's hand on his shoulder, urging him to hurt the person kneeling there until—

But now Oliver didn't have to think about that anymore. He didn't have to hurt anyone here. He hadn't used his Lectrinn ability even once since that day; no one had asked him to.

The room was small with painted walls and the only window was a high, frosted pane of glass barely big enough to let in any light. Two vents peered down from the ceiling on either side of a covered light bulb, and the only furniture was a bed with soft blankets and the desk and chair where he took meals.

The shelves and drawers in the desk were empty save for a couple of books, but they were all scientific publications about Lectrinn with long words Oliver either couldn't pronounce or understand. Instead, he looked at charts and diagrams in the books for hours, making up stories about them. His imagination could take a bar graph a long way from human experimentation.

There was one he especially liked, a illustration of veins in the human body, some highlighted in gold where Lectrinn flowed through. He'd trace them with his finger like they made up a maze and give names to the abilities and powers he thought these people could've had.

The only other points of interest were the two doors. One was unlocked, and led to a cramped bathroom. The other door, leading to the outside, was locked all the time. He only got short glimpses of a barren hallway when Fukase opened the door. 

Fukase, the redheaded teenager who came three times a day, was the only person Oliver ever saw. And Oliver waited with impatient anticipation for every visit.

One time when he brought breakfast, Fukase mentioned others who lived in the Ocahame House, and someone he called the Boss, but Oliver wasn't curious. In all honesty, he could not care less about the people he couldn't see.

The room had become his entire world. And he was fine with it.

Fukase would check on him in the mornings, at noon, and every evening, always bringing meals on a tray. Before he left with the empty dishes, Fukase always asked questions, ranging from Oliver's favorite things to the specifics of his Lectrinn ability. That was always Oliver's favorite part of the day. Every now and then he would take samples of Oliver's blood.

Oliver had never liked needles, but because it was Fukase, it was okay.

There was nothing ever new, and therefore nothing was scary. It was hundreds of times better than his life before.

Because of Fukase, he was finally okay.

The reason behind it was simple.

Lectrinn attracted Lectrinn.

A strange substance found in some people's veins, Lectrinn mixed with human blood to build up charges that could be released with the use of unnatural abilities less educated people would call superpowers.

In reality, Lectrinn was a highly evolved network of microorganisms living in a person's bloodstream, feeding off the energy conversion used in Lectrinn abilities.

They were so strong they formed connections with the Lectrinn in other people's bodies from mere exposure, manifesting as close emotional bonds. The brain was left scrambling to accommodate them, paving the way for developing personality and other psychological disorders. This occurrence was known as the Lectrinn Effect.

It was especially apparent in those with high amounts of Lectrinn in their blood, like Oliver.

Like "Fukase."

=•=•=

Fukase wasn't his real name.

The face he saw in the mirror wasn't his. The red curls he blew out of his eyes didn't belong to him.

Yet he didn't feel like an imposter.

Yes, he would love to be back in his own skin and he did feel sorry for the real Fukase (whose Minimized body had been thrown in a dumpster somewhere), but he felt like he belonged. Like fate had guided him to be here, in this very moment.

The old Fukase would've been ecstatic to know that he had been charged by the Boss to tame a Lectrinn user. The new Fukase pitied him, like hearing on the news a bystander lost his life for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He felt even more pity for the boy in his arms.

Fukase sat on the edge of the bed with Oliver pressed to his side, arms wrapped around him and still.

When he had come in with Oliver's dinner, the kid didn't want to eat. Instead, he wrung his hands and ducked his head, whispering that he wasn't feeling well and asking if Fukase would give him a hug.

Fukase wished a hug could solve all his problems.

"Taming" a Lectrinn user meant exploiting the Lectrinn Effect, almost destroying their sense of self in order to use them as a tool.

In Oliver's case, a human weapon.

The old Fukase would've manipulated the kid until Oliver couldn't live without him, turned into a dependent, subservient mess of a person who couldn't even breathe without being told to.

This Fukase had seen it happen before.

They became like puppets, empty-eyed and smiling. Ready to follow any order, dance to any string pulled. As long as they could stay by the side of that one special person their Lectrinn connected to.

Even now he could see the signs.

Oliver had been kidnapped from a bad situation and put into one only marginally less so, and he idolized Fukase because of it.

And all of Fukase's attempts to slow the process seemed to be backfiring on him. The Lectrinn really had a mind of its own.

Oliver shifted in the embrace, and pressed closer, burying his face in Fukase's chest.

For the first time in years, Fukase could feel his own Lectrinn. He would need Miss Miriam to Lock it again to make sure his ability didn't come back. The Lectrinn buzzed faintly beneath his skin, a gentle, almost nostalgic warmth coming from his deepest veins.

He remembered his sister describing it as magic, and his parents denouncing it as a curse.

It was the last thing they ever said.

He held Oliver tighter.

The kid was powerful. Incredibly so. Enough Lectrinn flowed in his blood to make Fukase's Lectrinn, which had been Locked for years, come alive again.

Oliver's "curse" really was a curse, a magnet for evil. So many people wanted to be in control of it, but they all went about it the wrong way. His parents, his older brother, the Boss, and now Miss Miriam.

Fukase knew what he had to do.

He would get rid of Oliver's curse, and give him a real magic instead. A magic that could protect him. Protect them both.

When Fukase agreed to take this job, the possibility of getting attached to the kid hadn't even crossed his mind.

Now every time he left the room, he promised over and over he would come back to take the edge off Oliver's stress. Pinky promised. Crossed his heart. He swore he wouldn't die.

It was probably making things worse, but in the end it wouldn't matter. He would deal with it when they were out of this prison.

When he came to face Miss Miriam.

Chapter Text

Fukase stood behind Oliver's chair, a comb in his hand. It was almost therapeutic as he loosened the tangles and snarls in Oliver's hair. Due to the lack of mirrors in the room, it wasn't surprising Oliver hadn't brushed it in a while.

"I'm going to ask a few questions now, Oliver," Fukase said. "Just a couple simple ones today."

"Okay." Oliver pulled at the ends of his white sleeves.

"Do you miss your family?" Gently, Fukase tugged at a particularly stubborn knot of blond hair.

Oliver nodded. "I don't miss them."

Fukase remained silent until Oliver spoke again.

"Maybe my sister. But not my parents. And definitely not my older brother. I'm glad I don't have to see him anymore."

"He's another Lectrinn user, isn't he?" Fukase slipped the comb into his pocket and told Oliver to turn around.

"He is."

Fukase began to braid Oliver's bangs to the side. They were getting long, and Oliver had complained the other day that they kept getting in his eyes. Fukase's sister had taught him how to braid when she had first learned herself. Along with anyone else who would listen.

"He's scary when he gets mad, when he uses his power," Oliver continued. "And he always pinched my cheek." He rubbed the side of his face. "I hated that."

Fukase wondered if he could get some scissors approved so he could cut Oliver's hair short again.

"What was his ability called?"

"Screen."

"Scream?"

"It's Screen." Oliver didn't elaborate, shifting uncomfortably and not meeting Fukase's eyes. Fukase decided to move on to his second, less serious question. He would ask about this 'Screen' ability later.

"If you could have any wish in the world, what would it be?" he said.

Oliver's answer was immediate. "For you to stay all day so I'm never alone."

Fukase stopped braiding. It was supposed to be a lighthearted question. He wavered before finishing the braid behind Oliver's ear.

"I already told you why I can't stay all day, Oliver," said Fukase. "Wouldn't you like something else more? Don't you ever think about going outside, seeing the sun again? Maybe you should use your wish to leave this place."

"Oh, no." Oliver shook his head. "I don't want to leave. I'd rather be here with you. I don't mind staying inside all day." He beamed as he touched the braid. "You're all I need."

Fukase rolled his shoulders and rephrased his question. "If you could have anything in the world, if you could make the impossible possible—"

"You would stay with me forever!"

Fukase took a deep breath.

"If I could be with you all the time," Oliver went on, smiling, "I'd wouldn't care about anything else. Nothing else matters but you."

"Oliver." Fukase pressed his hands to Oliver's cheeks, leaning forward and looking in his blank eyes. "You must stop thinking like that. You have to think for yourself. Don't think about me. Think about yourself."

Oliver placed his hands over Fukase's.

"But I can't."

It was such an earnest statement, so innocently truthful that Fukase felt like yelling. Like grabbing the kid by the shoulders and shaking some sense into him. If only he could take a knife and hack away the attachment Oliver's Lectrinn had created.

Instead, Fukase straightened himself and spoke with clear words.

"Who do you think I am?"

"What?" Oliver tilted his head.

"You're a prisoner here. They almost killed you. The Boss is planning to turn you into a human weapon." Fukase gripped his hands into fists. "Do you understand the situation you're in?"

"You've never hurt me." Oliver slowly shook his head. "Ever."

Oliver didn't see Fukase as a jailer, or a kidnapper, or anything that could possibly be bad. He was like the physical embodiment of all things good in Oliver's life. Every time Fukase came into the room, Oliver felt as if he would burst with the warmth, the adoration brimming inside.

"You think I won't?" Fukase stamped his foot, making Oliver jump as he pivoted on his heel and paced a single step before whipping around again like a caged animal. "You don't know anything about me. I'm a terrible person."

"You're... You're not like that." Wringing his hands, Oliver stood. He didn't understand. "You're good."

Fukase suddenly grabbed Oliver's shoulders.

"Don't you care that you're trapped here?" he shouted. "They kidnapped you from your family! Oliver!"

"I don't care." Oliver whispered. "I don't care about my family. The only thing I care about is you. I love—"

"I'm leaving." He let go of Oliver and walked towards the door with such a sense of finality Oliver could almost feel something snapping inside. Tiny Lectrinn bonds, brittle with disagreement, stretched and broke with every step Fukase took away from him, leaving nothing behind, a horrific, unfathomable nothingness that terrified him.

Fukase braced himself when Oliver crashed into him from behind, flinging his arms around Fukase's torso in a desperate attempt to stop him.

"NO!" Oliver cried. "Wait! I'm sorry! I'll do anything, just don't leave!"

Fukase pried Oliver's hands away as if he'd been anticipating this change in behavior. "Then let go."

He left the room, and for the first time ever, Oliver wrenched at the locked handle and pounded on the door.

"Please! Please don't go! Don't leave me alone! I'll be good. I promise I'll be good! Please!"

He staggered back, almost tripping over his own feet.

"What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?!"

The door wasn't going to give way or an answer.

Oliver frantically whipped around, trying to force himself to think. What— What—

He grabbed the desk chair and hurled it at the door with all his strength. It clattered uselessly to the floor.

Grabbing at his sleeves, looking for an anchor, 
he began to hyperventilate.

"Come back. Help me!"

He backed into the room's corner with jerky steps as the walls closed in, sinking to the floor and hiding his face in his knees. Sobs tore from his chest and he curled into himself, shaking and gasping for air.

Fukase wasn't coming back this time. There had been no promises. Not even one.

Oliver struggled to breathe as the world blurred. His heart pounded and his mind raced. He tried to call out, but only choked. He spiraled and spiraled, no one to catch him.

He had lost everything, and now he thought he had something, someone who was better than anything he had before. Fukase. He couldn't stand to lose him. The very thought made Oliver feel like he was drowning, knowing that no one was going to save him. Cold water filled his lungs, his veins, his heart.

Fukase was his everything.

"Please.... Come back...."

Fukase was his savior.

And Fukase was there.

Pulling Oliver up and out of the crashing waves. Drawing him close and shutting out the dark. Halting his spiral with nothing but whispered words.

"I've got you. It's okay. I've got you."

Oliver's sobs quieted to sniffles. He hadn't heard the door reopen. Suddenly, in Fukase's arms, everything felt right. His chest still heaved, but he found he could actually breathe again.

"I'm sorry I left," Fukase murmured. "I'm sorry I scared you. I won't do it again."

"Don't go."

Strands of Lectrinn healed, reattaching themselves. Parasites.

"Shh..."

The space in Oliver's chest that had been filling with fear was being replaced with something else. The dark water surrounding him retreated. A pure warmth flowed from deep in his bones and the horrible nothingness went away.

"Don't leave me again. Please don't leave me."

Their Lectrinn wasn't just a string connecting them together. It was a chain. Shackles. Locks without keys.

"I'll do anything. Anything you say."

It was ironic how powerless he felt when it was his power that got him into this situation in the first place. Oliver knew how much strength his ability could give him, but it didn't matter. The only way he could use it to make Fukase stay would be to—

Fukase lightly brushed his hand over Oliver's back. "Oliver...."

Break his legs. 

No.

"If I took you with me to live far away, how would you feel?" Fukase asked slowly.

Not daring to imagine it, Oliver stared at him for a moment. Fukase looked down, a hesitant bend in his brow. Like a flower blooming after rain, Oliver beamed through teary eyes.

"I would be so, so happy!"

Fukase swallowed around a lump in his throat.

"If I ordered you to use your ability to hurt someone, would you?"

Oliver froze, his smile fading, the petals falling one by one. Then he answered, unwavering.

"If you asked me to, I would."

Fukase felt his heart beating like it was part of a separate being.

"If I ordered you to use your ability to kill someone, would you?"

Oliver didn't hesitate this time. There was a light in his eyes, but it wasn't a warm one. It was a cold ember burning away with an unnatural passion, devoid of the life real love possessed.

"I would."

Fukase knew there was no way he could save Oliver by himself.

=•=•=

For needing four different Lectrinn abilities, the rescue plan was simple enough.

Yuu would Minimize the group to a couple inches tall, and they would sneak in through the ventilation system. Once they were over Oliver's room, Fukase would transfer them from the vent in the ceiling to the floor, where Yuu would Maximize the group. The fact the Boss of the Ocahame House was so cheap would be their saving grace— any cameras were strictly decorative.

Once they were regular-sized again, Xin Hua would Stamp Clone Fukase's features onto Flower so they could switch places while Luka would Mask a dummy to appear like a sleeping Oliver. Flower would then Send the group back out to the Yelkcots House, home.

Afterward, Xin Hua could give back "Fukase" his regular face. He would finally be able to use his real name again.

Flower would act as Fukase in the Ocahame House for the next day, until the Masked dummy died. Then, before she could be disciplined as "Fukase," the retrieval team would get her out and back to the Yelkcots House.

All Fukase had to do was wait for the signal.

Then they would be home.

Chapter Text

Fukase's request had been cleared with the Boss. He could now stay with Oliver for as long as he wanted with the time limit lifted. The situation made him tense, wary, but Oliver was happy.

They talked more than ever. Fukase directed the conversation and steadily avoided topics that reminded him how tangled their situation was. He learned a lot about Oliver in the two days before the signal came. The kid liked talking, but he liked listening too, and Fukase found himself telling stories more than asking questions.

When he heard the tapping from the vent in the ceiling, Fukase could feel the tension lift off his shoulders, like the first warm breeze of spring after a long winter.

"Oliver. Please stand out of the way, next to the bed," he said, pointing. Oliver instantly obeyed, waiting to see why.

Fukase pulled out the desk chair and positioned it underneath the vent. He climbed up and carefully removed the grate. He then placed the grate on the desk, got on the chair again, and began taking things out of the vent. Oliver couldn't see what from his angle.

Fukase crouched down facing away from him and started arranging the things on the hard floor. After a strangely quiet high-pitched noise, Fukase hissed out a soft "sorry," then stood, taking a step back.

There was a whooshing sound, and suddenly the tiny room had too many people who immediately started to bustle around. Before Oliver could yell in surprise, Fukase clamped a hand over his mouth.

"These are my friends.They're going to help us escape, all right?" He uncovered Oliver's mouth and smiled. "We're going to leave this place and go somewhere safe together. Just stay quiet and do exactly as they say, okay?"

He patted Oliver's head, then turned to speak to a lean girl with short hair who was wearing the exact same uniform as him, next to which a girl wearing a purple beret shifted back and forth on her small feet.

A blond man stepped forwards with what looked like a crash test dummy slung over one shoulder. He laid the dummy down on the bed then crossed the room. A woman with long pale hair dyed a flaky-looking pink knelt down next to Oliver. A cloud began to form in the air over her head as she smiled gently.

"Hello, Oliver," she whispered. "My name is Luka. It's nice to meet you."

Oliver gave a shaky nod, too surprised at the sudden appearance of these people to make any rational thought leave his mouth.

The lady held up her hand and said softly, "I'm going to touch your face and your shoulders, is that alright?"

Oliver hesitated. The question seemed like a trick. Why would she ask if she could just do it?

"Don't worry. I'm a Lectrinn user, just like you. I need to touch you to make my ability work."

He didn't understand, but Fukase had told him to listen to these strangers. He slowly nodded his head. It was okay. He didn't trust this person, but he trusted Fukase.

"Please stand still. I need to get this right."

With her hand beneath his chin, Luka titled his head to the side, up, and down, then asked him to turn in a full circle after tapping his shoulders. The cloud above her head began to swirl, then silently flash different colors as she brushed her slender fingers over his hair, his ears, eyebrows, and lips with the lightest of touches. Oliver was almost surprised to find it wasn't uncomfortable. Luka finally nodded, apparently satisfied with whatever she was doing. She then stood, snatching the airy swirl with one hand and effortlessly casting it over the dummy in the bed.

Suddenly Oliver wasn't looking at a dummy anymore, but himself. A sleeping boy with the same face, same clothes, and same hair, who Luka tucked in with the blanket.

Oliver stared. Luka knelt down again and explained calmly, "My ability is called Mask. You can see how it works. That dummy is wrapped in a Mask I create based on a model. This one is programmed to imitate a sleeping human for 24 hours before it stops working and 'dies.' Your captors won't know the difference, and will believe you simply got sick and passed. That way they won't look for you when we leave."

Oliver couldn't stop staring at the Masked dummy. The similarities between a Mask and a Screen screeched a warning in his head, and he took a step away from the bed.

"That's Xin Hua." Luka coaxed Oliver's attention away from the dummy and to the girl with the purple beret. "Her ability, Clone Stamp, allows her to copy physical characteristics from one person to another. The girl who is going to take Fukase's place is named Flower. She has the ability Send, which is going to get us back home."

"Take Fukase's place?" Oliver repeated. He didn't like the sound of that.

"Yes." Luka said. "A Masking will only work once. If Fukase disappears the same time you do, it'll be too suspicious. So when he leaves with us, Flower is going to stay and pretend to be him. Don't worry about her. We have a plan to get her out at a later date."

She gestured towards the blond man, who had his tattooed arms crossed. "His name is Yuu. His power, Min/Max, allows him to manipulate size. That's how we snuck in through the ventilation system."

She took him over to Fukase and Flower. "Stay here," Luka said, and went to stand next to the door, her ear close to the doorframe.

Xin Hua worked quickly, duplicating the features Oliver knew from Fukase's face onto Flower's, muttering "I got this, I got this, I got this," under her breath. Soon the two looked exactly alike, only different in the way they held themselves. Oliver grabbed onto his Fukase's shirt sleeve. He could only barely tell them apart.

"Once we get back to our House," Xin Hua said, grinning and rolling her shoulders, "I'll get you back in your own skin, 'Fukase.' Bet you're looking forward to that!"

Fukase just smiled tiredly, and Oliver wracked his brain for what she possibly could've meant.

"Wait, one last thing." Xin Hua snatched up Fukase's hands, pressing each of his fingertips rapidly with her thumb. She then did the same to Flower.

"Fingerprints," Fukase told Oliver.

He nodded, though he didn't understand.

"Line up so I can Send you back quick," Flower said as she ran a hand through her newly red hair. Her voice had the same rusty yet melodic sound as Fukase's.

"Good luck, Fukase 3.0," Yuu said, slapping her on the back before joining the line. Oliver's head was reeling.

"Right then. C'mon, kid." Flower held out her hand to Oliver, expectant. Oliver frowned and stepped closer to Fukase.

"Take her hand," urged Fukase, resting his hand on Oliver's back. "I'll be right behind you."

"You promise?" Oliver looked up at him.

"Of course." Fukase nodded, his eyes reflecting his commitment. "I swear it."

Oliver hesitantly let go of Fukase's sleeve and as he took Flower's hand, she yanked it forward. The room disappeared with a loud pop, then he was pitching forward through space to the sound of a high pitched scream. He yelled and threw out his hands to catch himself but there was nothing to grab onto. He couldn't see his hands. He flipped head over heels and was suddenly standing in a kitchen.

It looked too normal to be real. The morning sun shone calmly through a window over a green laminate countertop and a sink full of used dishes and cups. The faucet dripped.  A refrigerator covered in magnets hummed behind him. He stared around in shock

A grey-haired woman sat at the table, and glanced up from her magazine.

"Hello Oliver. Welcome to the Yelkcots House."

He froze. Who was this person?

Then Fukase appeared next to him. Oliver quickly sidestepped before he realized who it was. He flung his arms around Fukase, scared he might disappear again.

But something was wrong. Fukase gasped and clutched his arm. Oliver could see where the sleeve was torn and blood smeared the skin.

"How did they know?" Fukase stared at the grey-haired woman.

"You're hurt!" Oliver immediately held up his arms, but pulled them back at assessment. A graze from a bullet. Approximate time limit of 32 days. Not worth your time, a voice whispered. He pushed it away. A bullet? "You were shot?!"

"I'm okay, don't worry." Fukase gave a strained smile. "It just grazed me."

Yuu appeared next to him, stumbling, and punched the fridge so hard Oliver flinched.

"She didn't let me fight, that little—"

A bloodied body materialized on the floor by Oliver's feet, the neck twisted at an unnatural angle and blood spattered on the floor from the mouth. Fukase slapped his hand over Oliver's eyes, but he had already seen.

Luka.

There was a scream, a strangled gasp, the sound of a chair scraping across the floor and a howl of rage.

"Those bastards!"

Fukase moved to pull Oliver away, but he broke away from his grasp.

She wasn't gone yet.

Before he realized what he was doing, Oliver's hands were in the air over the wound, and he made a grabbing motion, jerking his hands back and feeling the injury convert like a punch to the stomach.

He bent double and coughed, struggling to breathe. Luka had been a literal heartbeat from death, but he had pulled her back. Approximate time limit of twelve seconds. Eleven...

Luka jolted upright and gasped for air, her fingers clamping over her throat. Her neck was literally Unbroken. The grey-haired woman who had leaned over her jumped back in surprise.

Ten... Nine...

Oliver whimpered as a numbness spread through his body, pleading as Fukase took him in his arms. "Please. Please. Please help me. Help me!"

"What do we do? What's happening to him?"

"Where's Xin Hua?!"

"Luka, Jesus Christ!"

Eight... Seven...

"Outside," Oliver gasped, swaying in his feet. He couldn't let go of it inside the room, with all these people around. "Please. I need...outside. Now!"

Six... Five...

Fukase half-carried him towards the kitchen door, voicing baseless reassurances. Oliver saw a huge garden sprawling out as Yuu threw open the door.

Four... Three...

"Stay here. I don't want—I don't want to hurt you!" Oliver pushed off the doorframe and staggered out into the garden. He aimed towards a large tree at the center of the garden. If he could force the damage into one receiver—

Two... One...

He fell three feet short. Death slipped out of his grasp.

Zero.

In less than a moment, every living thing in the garden died.

Every petal of every flower, every single blade of grass, each and every bug hiding under rocks and plants and the tree, from its highest branch to its deepest root. He could feel the damage spread farther though, underneath the garden wall and into whatever laid beyond.

Oliver collapsed. He felt sick. A static-like stupor crept over his brain and he sat in the lifeless dirt, exhausted.

There was a low creak ahead and footsteps running from behind him.

"Oliver!"

"Watch out!"

He looked up and saw the giant shell of the tree leaning, groaning, snapping and falling but Fukase was there and Fukase was grabbing him and Fukase was pulling him out of the way as the tree thundered down, roots ripping up the earth, crashing into the ground where he had just sat.

It was only then, as the dust began to settle, he cried. Leaning all his weight onto Fukase, Oliver buried his face into his shoulder and sobbed. People were hurt because of him. Fukase was hurt because of him. He wanted to help, but was terrified. He had never once healed a wound like that. He had never unleashed this type of destruction before.

The others watched from the porch.

They watched a long time until Luka walked across the dead grass to the two boys. She wordlessly put her arm around them and guided them back to the house.

=•=•=

Instead of waiting until Luka's Masked dummy expired in 24 hours, the retrieval team set out right away. The attack was so unexpected, there was no way to know if Xin Hua was alive, or if Flower had succeeded in becoming the new 'Fukase.' It was best not to take any chances.

Fukase had changed out of his Ocahame uniform and bandaged his arm. Oliver had been given new clothes as well. He pressed close to Fukase, holding onto his jacket and peering around him as they saw the mission off.

Stress permeated the atmosphere due to the unforeseen attack, and Oliver could barely focus as Fukase tried introducing some of the Yelkcots House members to him next. Thankfully, Fukase noticed his discomfort right away, and took Oliver to another room before he became too overwhelmed. Not even half the introductions were over at that point.

Oliver was understandably anxious, as he hadn't been around a lot of people for a long time, and these people were very different then the ones he was used to.

No one in the Yelkcots House seemed to have any real power. They were all Lectrinn users with relatively minor abilities. Nothing that would be useful in a fight. Though apparently they were all good with the physical, trained fighters and marksmen and the like.

From Fukase, Oliver learned about the grey-haired woman who had welcomed him before. Her name was Miss Miriam, and with her Lectrinn ability Lock, she was in charge of the Yelkcots House. Her teams hunted down people with dangerous Lectrinn abilities or those who misused the accompanying energy. When someone was found, Miss Miriam went out to Lock their ability away, and if they resisted, drain them of Lectrinn itself. Sometimes there were people who came to her by their own accord, asking her to erase their powers and allow them to live a normal life.

Oliver hadn't seen Miss Miriam since they day he healed Luka and destroyed the garden. There was still guilt hovering over him, an anxious inkling telling him that once Miriam finally spoke to him, she'd see how terrible it was. She'd send him back to his family. He would have to leave Fukase's side.

Miss Miriam sat at a long desk, typing on a laptop which she closed as they came into her office. She peered through thin-framed glasses, then took them off, rubbing between her pale eyes.

"We will speak truthfully to one another, won't we?" she asked, gesturing for the pair to sit down.

Fukase began to answer, but she stopped him. "Not you. I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth until I'm done. Now, Oliver." She rested her chin on the back of her hand. "About your ability. Undo/Redo, is it?"

Oliver nodded hesitantly.

"Last morning, you healed Luka and ripped up my garden with a single release of Lectrinn. Let me guess." She brushed a finger across her lips in thought. "Healing Luka was the Undo, and destroying the garden was the Redo. Action and consequence. Am I correct?"

He nodded again.

"Your ability has a steep price. Makes sense." She looked him over for a moment, then a moment more. "Though, the cost could be more useful than what you're using it to buy."

Oliver stared at the desk. That wasn't true. That could never be true.

"Tell me." Miriam spoke again. "Why were you out on the streets that day, when those Ocahame buffoons picked you up?"

"Well...." Oliver stared at his hands, fists over his knees, then cast a glance at Fukase, who nodded encouragement. "I was running away. From home."

"Why?"

Oliver shifted in the chair, trying not to think too much about that day. "My brother. He was trying to make me hurt someone. He wanted me to kill her. I was so scared that I ran."

"Did you?"

"I—" Oliver looked up. "I ran away—"

"No," Miriam interrupted. "Did you kill her? I'm guessing you Undid some injury beforehand, and your brother wanted you to Redo the same injury tenfold on that person, didn't he?"

"That's....that's right."

"So did you kill her or didn't you?"

Oliver grabbed Fukase's hand under the desk. "I don't know. I don't remember."

"You were there, weren't you? Why don't you know what happened to her?"

"I really can't remember. I'm trying, but—"

"Someone's life was in your hands, and you forgot what you did with it?"

Oliver stopped speaking. He pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut, hunching over. He looked like he was about to cave in on himself.

"Then why?" Miriam asked. "What was your brother's motivation? Who was that person?"

Who is that?

No one special.

"Why did he want you to kill her?"

I can't!

You can't or you won't?

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

"Give me your hands." Miss Miriam held out her own.

Oliver reluctantly released Fukase's hand and winced when Miriam gripped his tight.

"You see," Miriam started, "We at the Yelkcots House have a little something called value for human life, unlike your murderous Eiros."

Oliver's head jerked up. "How—How do you know that name?"

"Let's just say I've had my eye on your family for a bit. Quite the piece of work, your mother was." She drew up his hands an inch higher. "We went to highschool together, you know. Everyone thought that sweet little Ann was so darling, until she started with those psychotic hypotheses about Lectrinn abilities and drinking human blood..." Miriam sighed. "She got married to the perfect enabler before she even graduated. A hit man. You know the rest."

Miriam scrutinized Oliver through cold, narrow eyes. When she finally spoke again, the words were so harsh Oliver thought she had said the opposite.

"You can stay."

Fukase bowed his head.

"You can stay on one condition. You must give me your word." Miriam gripped his hands so tightly they hurt, her rings digging into Oliver's fingers. "You may only use your powers when I say so. If you ever use your ability without my permission, or refuse to do so when I order it, I will Lock your ability away and return you to your family. You'll be useless to them without your power. I wouldn't like to know what Ann will do if she finds out her best work has gone to waste."

Miriam knew she would receive his promise by the expression of fear on his face.

"You'll have a home here until the end of time, if you promise me. Unless I tell you to, you will not use your power for anything. For anybody. For any reason."

The image of Luka, choking and bleeding on the kitchen floor rushed back to Oliver, and he croaked out, "Even if.... someone's dying?"

"Even then. Pretend to have a hand in the fate of others, and you're liable to get it burned."

Oliver looked back at Fukase, who gave a slight nod. He turned back to Miriam, and promised.

She squeezed his hands for a moment longer, then let go. She gave a slight laugh. "To think. A member of the Eiro Family under my roof. The irony is almost too much." She put her glasses back on and reopened her laptop. "You may go."

"Miss Miriam," Fukase started. "May I speak to you privately for a moment?"

"What? Oh, yes." Miriam waved at Oliver. "You can stand in the hall, Dear."

Oliver felt a chill creep up his spine. In the hall? Alone? Fukase turned to look him in the eyes.

"Can you stand by the door outside for a bit, Oliver? Please? I'll be out in five minutes, I swear."

"You promise?" Oliver's hands began to sweat.

"Of course. I swear it."

Oliver left the room as slowly as he could, opening the door carefully and quietly. The hall was deathly silent. He focused on his breathing. It quickened the moment Fukase was out of sight, but he kept his thoughts occupied, not spiraling, repeating Fukase's promise in his mind over and over to calm himself. He was just on the other side of that door. He'd be out any minute. He promised. It wasn't like he was gone forever.

Suddenly he could hear dampened shouting from inside the room. Worried, he pressed his ear to the door.  Was Fukase okay? The thick wood muffled the conversation, but he could make out the words.

"It doesn't matter that we don't pay the price!" It was Fukase. "He literally cannot function on his own!"

"Then don't leave." That was Miss Miriam. "I'll take you off the patrols. You can remain at the House all day to take care of him."

Oliver felt a little jolt as he realized they were talking about him. Of course, that's why Fukase sent him outside.

"The Lectrinn Effect is going to destroy him if I stay by his side!"

"It'll destroy him if you leave. Think about your situation."

"He'll end up like Rin!"

The voices went silent. Oliver jerked away from the door in case it opened. Rin? Who was Rin? When nothing happened, he stepped towards the door again and strained his ears to find the conversation had moved on.

"—anymore." Fukase was speaking. "No one deserves that kind of power."

Oliver leaned against the door frame, abruptly tired, facing down the hall. He could barely make out Miss Miriam's next words.

"You know what, boy? I believe I do."

Chapter Text

Xin Hua's body had been discovered floating in a river the next town over by county police. Stepping forward to claim it was out of the question, and Miss Miriam was not one for the sentimental, so the death hung over the rest of the House like a pall, smothering the halls and rooms. People spoke quietly and moved like floorboards would crack under the stress.

The retrieval team came back empty handed. Flower had refused to return home, knowing Xin Hua would not be there. She had played her part exceptionally well, and had convinced the Ocahame House Boss to let her in for another job. However, she did pass on some choice information.

The attack that caused Xin Hua's death had been launched by Eiro forces. Whether or not they were sent to kill or rescue Oliver was unclear, but once this came to light, most members of the Yelkcots House gave Fukase and Oliver a wide berth, their gazes brittle with resentment. They spoke Fukase's name with a sneer, like they were really spitting out a curse word.

Oliver ignored it all with a steadfast determination. He had enough in his mind already. Even though his thinking was dominated by Fukase, this morning, as he lay in bed facing his savior, he couldn't help his wandering thoughts.

She was just so still.

"Oliver, meet Rin."

She sat up in bed, staring straight ahead. Dull blond hair and sunken cheeks, empty eyes and emanating silence. A puppet with its strings cut. Still. So, so still.

"Hello..." Oliver let go of Fukase's hand and grabbed his arm instead. He didn't know what to expect when Fukase lead him to the upstairs bedrooms of the House to introduce him to someone, but this certainly wasn't it.

"She was a lot like you, a long time ago. Her power was too great. She was imprisoned alone and only saw one person, and she became so closely attached, that when...." Fukase trailed off, then continued. "When that person left, she broke."

Broke. Oliver couldn't tear his eyes away from Rin. She broke. Was he broken? Was he breaking?

"She's been in an unresponsive, almost catatonic state all year." Fukase spoke in a resigned tone. "She can't do anything by herself. We have to help her eat, drink, bathe, change clothes, exercise, absolutely everything."

She sat so still. The only thing indicating she was alive was the slow rhythmic movements of her chest and occasional blinks. To think that this girl, Rin, had once been full of life, of energy, of power, like him...

"Oliver, do you ever want to live like that?"

She was so, so still.

"No." Oliver turned away, shaking his head. "I don't."

Fukase didn't need to say anything else. Oliver had made his resolve. The Lectrinn Effect would not get the better of him.

"We'll work together," said Fukase. "Hopefully, in time, you won't have to be scared anymore. You'll be able to live without me."

He would not break.

But how could this be described as breaking?

There was no other place he felt safer than in Fukase's arms. He simply held Oliver close, secure, never trying to kiss him, or even look at his face. If Oliver could wake up every day like that, he wouldn't mind being—

He forced himself to sit up, careful not to disturb Fukase. Fukase was making an effort to break the Lectrinn between them. It would go to waste if Oliver didn't try to do the same.

Yet still, deep down, guilt had its claws stuck deep. Oliver didn't want to move on. He didn't want to break the Lectrinn binding them together. He didn't want to be alone. He didn't want the warm, safe feeling to go away.

He slowly got out of bed, ignoring the trembling in his hands. The floorboards were cool underneath his bare feet as he crossed to the room's door. He touched the back of his neck, finding it cold since Luka had cut his hair short. She was the only House member who still spoke to them on a regular basis.

It had been a busy week. Everyone was trying to take on as much work as possible to make things feel normal again. Most of the House members were out on patrols, searching for Lectrinn users in the city, so the place was almost empty. Luka and Yuu has been sent on a mission in another country along with someone else Oliver didn't know. Fukase stayed with him.

Oliver looked back at Fukase's still sleeping form. Together they were breaking the threads that connected them, one by one.

Oliver planned to go to the kitchen and start making breakfast for Fukase before he woke up, to show that he could do something all by himself. But as he walked down the stairs, he felt the anxiety building in his chest. What if something happened? What if he was hurt? What if Fukase disappeared when he was away? What if, what if, what if.

He could feel the horrid threat of emptiness like a shadow wrapping around his ankles. He put his hand on the banister, but didn't go back up the steps.

What if everything turned out fine?

He could do this. He would do this.

He had been taking steps on his own lately and Fukase had told him so many times how proud he was. Oliver knew he could do this. He turned his back to the stairs.

Down the hall in the kitchen, he looked around, and only then did he realize he didn't know the first thing about cooking. What did Fukase usually eat for breakfast? Toast. Eggs?

Oliver padded around the kitchen, looking in cupboards and the refrigerator and moving things around and generally not getting anything done. He couldn't even find the toaster, much less the bread. The eggs were too delicate. The stove was intimidating. The kitchen was too small, too big, and too much.

"There you are."

Oliver jumped and rushed to meet Fukase with a hug. He didn't say anything, just buried his face in Fukase's chest as a soft greeting.

"I woke up and you were gone." Fukase gently hugged Oliver back. "I worried for a moment."

"Ah!" Oliver stepped away, wringing his hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. I won't do that again. I'm really sorry."

"That's okay." Fukase rubbed the top of Oliver's head. "It's good you want to do things by yourself. Were you going to make something to eat?"

Oliver gave a halfhearted glance about the kitchen. "I was, but I don't know where to start."

"Then it's a good thing I do," Fukase said, rolling up his sleeves.

In no time, Oliver was inserting bread into the toaster while Fukase beat together eggs and milk in a bowl. The house sat silent like a kitchen was a bubble anomaly. As the toast popped up, Oliver took it out and gingerly buttered one side.

"Fukase?" Oliver started.

"Yes?" Fukase set aside his bowl and began to chop a green pepper.

"Um, can I ask you a question?" Oliver placed the toast slices onto the two plates Fukase had set next to the stove.

"Of course."

Oliver's question came out hesitant and small, like he was preparing to take back the words at a moment's notice. "What... What did you look like? Before?"

Fukase lifted the knife to cut another slice, but his hand stopped in the air. "It doesn't matter." The knife fell. "Xin Hua can't give me my old face back, so I might as well forget what I used to look like. Will you pour some water for us?" He pointed. "The glasses are in that cupboard there."

Oliver nodded and quickly filled two glasses with tap water, placing them next to the plates. He folded his hands, then unfolded them as he spoke again.

"What about your name?" This question sounded even more hesitant and small. "Is it really Fukase?"

"It doesn't matter." He slid the peppers off the cutting board and into the hot oil in the frying pan. A crackle filled the air, then died to a soft sizzle with a sharp odor.

Oliver couldn't think of what to say, and folded his hands again. He could almost hear the thin ice fracturing beneath his feet.

"I love you, Fukase," Oliver ventured out.

Fukase sighed deeply and added the beaten eggs to the pan. Another crackle. His pushed-up sleeves slipped back down his arms.

"Oliver. Can I tell you something?"

Thousands of different ways the scenario could play out ran through Oliver's head, but he forced himself to ignore them and be present in the moment. "Anything."

"You asked me once if I had a Lectrinn ability, and I told you no." Fukase stirred the eggs.

Oliver nodded. He remembered that.

"Well, that was only slightly true,"
Fukase continued. "While I don't have an ability now, I did have one in the past. Miss Miriam Locked it when we met. It was called Delete. I—"

Fukase paused a long time. The eggs sizzled in the pan. Oliver began to wonder if he should fill the silence before Fukase went on.

"Anything I touched with my bare hands was erased from existence," Fukase said carefully. "Anything. It manifested seven years ago and I was never able to control it. Miss Miriam saved me from myself. My... My family wasn't so lucky."

His eyes strayed to his hands. "They're dead because of me." They snapped back to the frying pan. "But Miss Miriam gave me a new start. A place to live. A job to do. Purpose when I was falling to despair. That's why I can never go against her. I owe her my life. I've tried to make her see from our point of view, to Lock your ability too, but she won't listen."

Oliver folded his arms, hugging himself.

"I'm telling you this because—" Fukase whipped around to speak directly to Oliver, but his sleeve caught the frying pan's handle and pulled it off the stove. Oliver jumped backwards to avoid the steaming pieces of egg and pepper bouncing out of the pan, and Fukase hit his hand on the hot stove. He yelled and his flailing arm knocked the two glasses of water to the floor.

"Fukase!" Oliver started towards him, but halted. Bits and shards of glass littered the wet floor, along with what was supposed to be their breakfast.

Fukase thrust his burned hand into the sink, yanking the handle to get cold water. Oliver scanned the wound without thinking. A first-degree burn. Superficial. Time limit of eight months and eleven days, give or take. He firmly shook his head to clear it.

What mattered now was the glass that sparkled on the floor. He would have to clean it up so Fukase didn't hurt himself more.

"Where's the broom?" he forced out, staying where he was. What he wanted was to walk right across the cutting shards to make sure the burn wasn't serious, even though his power had already shown him it wasn't.

"Laundry room," Fukase replied through gritted teeth. He shot a shaky smile over his shoulder. "It's okay, Oliver. I'm fine. It was just an accident. Can you get the broom by yourself?"

Oliver bit his lip. Even when Fukase was hurt, he always thought of Oliver's well-being too. He nodded and hurried to the laundry room. Spying the broom handle leaning between the washing machine and the wall, he reached for it.

A scream came from the kitchen, followed by a dull thud. He instantly forgot the broom.

"Fukase! Are you okay?" Oliver ran back to the kitchen, his feet slipping on the floor. "What happened? Fuka—"

A man stood in the kitchen, wiping down a knife with a handkerchief, but it wasn't Fukase. Because Fukase was crumpled on the floor, gasping and twitching. The image of Luka's snapped neck and Fukase's bleeding arm burst up in Oliver's mind and he gasped. A metallic spider jumped off of Fukase's body and skittered up the man's leg, folding itself into a capsule in his pale hand. The intruder focused his scarlet gaze on Oliver, who froze.

"Hio?"

Oliver slapped his hand over his mouth immediately after the name slipped out, like saying it made the situation more real.

"There you are." Hio sighed in relief. "I thought she would have hidden you away somewhere, but here you are, coming straight to me." He shook his head. "Still so naive, my cute little Oliver."

"Get... Get out," Fukase wheezed. The broken glass had cut him when he had fallen, making beads of blood on his face and hands. "Find Miriam!"

"No." The word slipped out. Oliver's body had stopped working, his mind screaming at him to run, to get away, get away, but his heart wouldn't let him move. Suddenly, Oliver placed the metallic spider. It was a poison carrier. Fukase gasped in pain, struggling to form more words.

"Now, aren't you going to say hello to your big brother?" Hio held out his arms, as if he expected Oliver to give him a hug. "Come here, won't you? I want to see if my little Ollie's grown any taller."

"I'm not yours!" Oliver's hands tightened into fists. The House had finally felt safe, but no longer. Hio ruined everything. Oliver's voice cracked as he yelled, "Leave us alone!"

"Shouting isn't going to help anyone, Oliver. You know why I'm here." Hio calmly shut off the sink faucet, which had been forgotten in the moment. "I saw the garden outside. Your power needs to be contained, you could hurt someone."

"You're wrong! I know how to control my Lectrinn. And..." Oliver lifted his chin. "And I'm not scared of you anymore."

"Oh really?" Hio raised an eyebrow and took a step, his boots crunching on the broken glass. "Then why are you trembling? Why are you moving away?"

Oliver's back hit the wall. His mouth opened to reply, but nothing came out.

"You say you're not scared of me? We both know the truth." Hio walked closer, his voice frightfully even and controlled. "But you don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here to help you."

"Get away!" Oliver screeched, lashing out. Hio halted only for a heartbeat before continuing to inch forward.

"Oliver, there are tears in your eyes," he whispered. "You know I hate it when you cry."

Oliver cringed in fear as Hio stood directly in front of him. "Please... Please, don't..."

"Here, let me." Hio wiped away the tears with his thumb, then cupped Oliver's cheek with his hand. "You need to come back home, Ollie. It isn't safe for you to be here. You're too naive, too young to realize what's happening."

"Don't touch me."

"Shh... Oliver. All I want is to help," Hio said, running his hand through Oliver's hair and leaning in close. "Miriam and her thieves, they're awful people. They're brainwashing you every moment you spend with them."

"You're wrong." Oliver refused to look Hio in the eye. "I'm not leaving. I'm never going back."

"You are, and you know it. Listen to me when I say I know what's best for you. You'll never be able to live a normal life, Oliver. You know that." He straightened. "After all, you've killed a girl."

"Shut up! Stop talking!" Oliver pressed his hands over his ears. The smell of burnt hair and sweat, the sound of ripped duct tape. "I didn't! I didn't do it!"

"You're not well, Oliver. You could hurt yourself. Ann believed you're dangerous and wanted to get rid of you." Hio's eyes flashed. "I'm the only one who actually cares about you. Ann sent me to kill you, understand?"

Oliver choked on his own breath. Ann wanted him dead. His own mother. He knew she never felt as other people, never loved or laughed or cried, but having the small relationship he did have crushed so thoroughly hit him like a punch to the gut.

"But I won't. She crossed a line." Hio's tone softened, sweetened. "Don't worry Oliver, I made sure she'll never hurt you again. Do you understand what I'm saying?" He grinned. "You can come home, Oliver! I killed her! Ann is dead."

"I wish you were dead!" Oliver yelled, and struck Hio across the face. Immediately Hio's fingers wrapped around his wrist, wrenching his arm so hard it hurt.

"Hey, we're family, Ollie." Hio's grip tightened, causing Oliver to gasp. "Family means we don't hit each other."

"Let go!" Oliver twisted and struggled to free himself. "You murderer!"

"I'm not the only murderer here!" Hio's expression grew frantic. "Neither of us had a choice! It wasn't my fault!"

"I'm not a murderer," Oliver growled through a knot in his throat. "And you had a choice."

"I do now." Hio forced Oliver across the dirty kitchen tiles and threw him down next to Fukase. Oliver flung out his hands to catch himself and glass pierced his palms as he hit the ground hard. Tears blurred his vision. Fukase's eyes were no longer open and his breathing was erratic.

"Go ahead. Undo his wounds. But if you do, you're agreeing to come home with me. If you don't want to cooperate, I'll just kill him and take you home by force. This is my choice, and now it's yours. You know what to do, Oliver." Hio took several steps back. "Heal him."

Oliver hesitated. It's a trap. He knows it. And yet Fukase might be left alone if he obeys. But God he was so scared. Where was Miss Miriam? Why hadn't any of the other House members come to help? Had they not heard the struggle? Had Hio gotten to them first?

"Don't you want to come home?" Hio's voice oozed concern, sympathy, and pure avarice. "I can protect you. All I ever wanted was to protect you."

Oliver sucked in a thin breath, and shakily let it out. Every single word out of Hio's mouth was a lie, and yet his brother said them with such honesty in his voice. It shook Oliver to the core.

"You'll have a home here until the end of time, if you promise me." Miriam's rings dug into his hands once more. "Unless I tell you to, you will not use your power for anything. For anybody. For any reason."

But Fukase wasn't anyone.

Oliver was no longer afraid.

He placed his hands on Fukase. He could feel the life draining away as his blood smeared on his clothes.

Looking over the wound, he assessed the damage in one glance. A stab wound to the side. It hit nothing major and was shallow, only fatal if he lost too much blood or it became infected. The main concern was the poison injected at the same spot. It needed to be removed immediately. He couldn't identify what it was, but judging by Fukase's violent shaking and the bluish tinge to his skin, it couldn't be ignored.

Oliver grabbed the air above the wound with his fists and pulled, willing the stabbing to be undone, for the poison to exit, to unenter. A heartbeat later and Fukase was unconscious on the floor, never have been stabbed in the first place. Unstabbed, you could say.

Oliver felt the injury convert into blast damage and he kept it buzzing in his fingertips, where it could stay for the approximate time limit of six days and eighteen hours.

Then the poison converted. Its toxins struck like metal crushing his brain, fire rushing through his veins. A time limit of less than twenty minutes. The buzzing built into an unbearable itching across his arms and back, throbbing in his fingers like they were burning.

Oliver was acutely aware of his brother standing in the doorway. There was no plan in his head other than the only action he could take that could buy him some time.

He stood, opened his palm, and shoved it out in Hio's direction. Even before his hand struck Hio's chest, Oliver knew he had made a mistake.

His brother hadn't even attempted to dodge.

Hio smiled, but it was full of pity.

"I hoped you wouldn't do that."

The blast damage backfired. Oliver felt the pain as if the knife had buried itself in his own flesh. He screamed in shock and pain, clutching his side and staggering to the right, only dimly aware of Hio in front of him as the pain flooded his system and threatened to take him under. How. How?!

"I had to develop a new type of Screen just to safeguard against you, Oliver," Hio whispered to him. "You're a danger to others, and yourself. Can't you see that? All I want is to help you. To take care of you."

Oliver could feel the poison as it grabbed hold of his consciousness, numbing his limbs and blurring his vision. His mouth tasted like copper as coldness and muffled fear took over, a static in his ears.

"If you had just come with me, you wouldn't be in this situation right now. Honestly, Oliver. It's embarrassing how stupid you are."

The tears came and Oliver let himself sob as his body ignited with hurt and the poison assaulted his nerves. Every sense was rebelling against him.

Hio scooped him up and cradled him in his arms. "Oh, shh. It's okay. Your big brother's here. We're going home. You'll have the antidote in no time"

The last thing Oliver saw before the poison stole his sight was Fukase

opening his eyes. 

Hio drew his handgun and shot Fukase in the head.

Oliver felt the bullet bury itself in his gut.

Lectrinn snapped and broke, not with the delicate precision of the past weeks, but with a heartless fervor bordering on insanity. The strands didn't leave, severed, but tangled and shriveled and died where they were, leaving nothing but dead bodies between Oliver and his savior. A careful bond transformed to a corpse.

Oliver felt himself lifting away from the earth. By the time the roaring echo of the gunshot faded from the room, he had disappeared, leaving behind an empty shell. A puppet with its strings cut. Still. So, so still.

A boy with silver hair sauntered into the room with a skateboard tucked under one arm. He jerked his head towards the door. "Just so you know, there's a huge-ass plot hole right in the middle of you guys' living room. Like, Hell, man, you should put a rug over it or something."

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"Pi...ko...?"

Chapter Text

Fukase pulled his hand back twice before cautiously ringing the doorbell to Oliver's house. He'd been there before, but never inside. He would've texted Oliver that he was there to pick him up, but he still hadn't gotten a new phone since his old one had broken. Turns out getting ran over by a truck in the snow isn't very good for handheld electronics (but that's another story).

The door jolted and opened. Fukase found himself facing what looked like an older, taller Oliver, with the same button nose and fluffy blond hair, albeit a bit longer. Fukase racked his brain for Oliver's brother's name, but came up empty handed. "Good morning...?"

Fortunately, Oliver's brother smiled and gestured for him to come in. "Fukase, right? I'm Yohio. Come on in, Oliver's running a little late."

"Right!" Fukase said, surprised. Oliver must've mentioned him to his family. Or to Yohio, at least. The front hall was small and opened into a living room with floral couches. Straight ahead was the kitchen, with a staircase to the right. Yohio sat down at the kitchen table and Fukase idled next the stairs before Yohio offered him a seat.

"Thanks for being Oliver's ride," said Yohio, picking up a coffee mug on the table. "The other day he was celebrating because didn't have to take the bus anymore."

Fukase smiled. He could imagine that.  "Well, it's been super cold ever since it snowed and I drive by here on the way to school anyway, so." Fukase shrugged. it wasn't like he could say he wanted to keep a closer eye on Oliver. "No problem."

The sound of running feet made Fukase turn to the staircase. He waved as he saw Oliver run down the stairs. Oliver smiled slightly, then glanced over at Yohio and—

Fukase couldn't exactly explain what happened next. At the sight of his older brother, Oliver jerked back, his feet slipping on the stairs and his hand grabbing the railing as he gave a sort of half-gasp, strangled sound. But it all happened so fast, and Oliver was back to normal so quickly that Fukase thought he imagined it.

"Good morning, Fukase!" To Yohio, Oliver simply said, "Mornin' Hio."

"Morning, sleepyhead," said Yohio. "Hurry or you'll be late."

"Shut up!" Oliver rushed through a door to the left and came back with a couple school books. "Wait right there"—He pointed at Fukase—"I'll be down in a second." In a flash, Oliver disappeared up the stairs.

Fukase tapped the underside of the table with his finger, thinking. He wanted to ask Yohio whether he thought Oliver was acting strange lately, but Yohio spoke first.

"It's okay around me. I'm not the tattling type." Yohio took a sip of his coffee.

"What?" A hundred different lies he'd told and secrets he'd kept ran through Fukase's head.

"You guys—" Yohio leaned forward. "You guys are dating, right?"

Was that a guess? "Uh, I...." Fukase stammered. Should he tell him? Could he tell him?

"Plus, I always thought the rule was stupid."

"What rule?"

"The 'no dating until you graduate high school' rule? The incredibly dumb one?"

Their parents had a rule like that? So that was the reason Oliver didn't want his family to know they were dating. Fukase had never thought about it much. Oliver spoke briefly of it once, then never mentioned it again. Fukase felt he didn't have to worry because Oliver had brought it up so nonchalantly.

"Of course Oliver wouldn't have told you if you guys really are an item, so you obviously are."

"Hey, wait—"

"I didn't date in high school. Never went through any drama of any type. But listen to me." He jabbed his finger at Fukase. "If you don't go through high school drama in high school, you're gonna go through it in college. Believe me. It's true. Happened to everyone I know."

"I'll keep that in mind. I guess," Fukase said and Yohio nodded vigorously, like he had just imparted the mother of all truths.

Oliver pounded down the stairs again, jumping the last three. He wore a red hoodie Fukase recognized immediately.

"You're wearing it." The present he had carefully picked out for Oliver's birthday the other day.

"Well, duh. I'm not gonna let a good gift go to waste." Oliver tugged on the strings of the hoodie. As they walked to the door, he said almost coyly under his breath, "I match your hair."

Fukase didn't reply, but touched his bangs unconsciously. He hadn't even thought of that.

"Ready to go?" Oliver opened the front door. Fukase stepped outside, his boots crunching on the frosty early-morning snow.

"Don't forget your shoes!" Yohio called from the kitchen.

"That was one time!" Oliver yelled over his shoulder and promptly tripped on his untied shoelace. He yelled again and threw out his arms. Before he could tumble down the porch steps, Fukase caught him in an awkward embrace that was more like a tangle of limbs and backpack straps. He blinked rapidly from the sudden warmth on his face from Oliver's breath.

Oliver laughed nervously and extracted his arms. "Uh, thanks." Then he fled down the stairs, almost tripping again before bending to tie his laces next to Fukase's car.

"Hey Oliver, you okay? You almost fell three times now."

"You noticed the first time?" Oliver laughed. "I thought I saw a spider on Yohioloid's shoulder, that's all. It was nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." Oliver threw his backpack onto the floor of the passenger seat as they got in Fukase's car.

Fukase was backing out of the driveway when he realized. "Wait. 'Yohioloid?' Is that his full name?"

"Huh?" Oliver looked at him blankly. "Oh! No, it's a nickname. Don't tell him I said it in front of you though, it's supposed to be a secret." He put a finger to his lips.

"Sounds like a name for a robot. 'Loid,' huh? Like a Transformer. Are you Oliver Prime?"

"Stop, you'll blow my cover!" Oliver playfully covered his face with his hands.

"Yohio asked me if we were dating."

Oliver dropped his hands like they burned his cheeks. "What did you say to him?"

"I actually didn't get the chance to answer. He seemed like he already knew."

Tugging the strings of his hoodie, Oliver whined. "That isn't good. Always change the subject whenever he brings up dating. He pretends his advice makes sense when it doesn't at all. Please don't tell him about us. If he has your word, he'll use it to blackmail me later, I know it." He pressed his hands together. "So can we keep it a secret a little while longer?"

Fukase replied hesitantly. If Oliver thought it was for the best, then... "Okay. We can do that."

"Thanks." Oliver sighed. "I think having a younger sibling would be better than having an older one. He's always teasing me and telling me what to do."

"Well, don't ask me about it. I'm fine being an only child."

"Only child?"

"What?"

Fukase cast a glance over at Oliver. He barely caught the syllable falling from Oliver's mouth. "Cul..."

Cul? What's that?

"Your car smells like garlic." Oliver abruptly changed the subject with a grin. "Trying to keep vampires away?"

Fukase went along with it. "Well, you're here, so I guess it isn't working."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oliver demanded

"Creature of the night." Fukase flicked on the turn signal. "Mr. Morning Person."

Oliver laughed. "Okay, okay, I would argue but I guess it's true. I'll accept that."

Fukase didn't expect him to actually admit it.

"Good thing this is the last day of school before winter break," Fukase said. "Then you can sleep in all you want."

"And I will."

Oliver snapped on the radio and surfed the channels. He stopped at an old rock station which they listened to the rest of the drive. 

=•=•=

In the school parking lot, snow piled up in drifts. Fukase parked in relation to the other cars because he couldn't see any lines on the frosted blacktop.

He looked to Oliver, who was babbling about whatever, clearly stalling to delay getting out of the car and into the cold. He couldn't understand a word out of Oliver's mouth due to the roaring in his ears. All the words he wanted to say pressed on his tongue.

"Though I'm kinda confused." Oliver laughed as he rubbed his temple. "Maybe I hit my head and I don't remember. This is weird."

"Oliver!" Fukase's urgent tone surprised himself and he almost bit his tongue. His worrying had been bubbling like a pot on the back burner, the flame turned up too high for too long, and Oliver looked at him with wide eyes, frozen.

"Um—" Fukase hesitated. He wanted to lock the car doors until he knew for sure that Oliver was okay, that nothing was horribly wrong, but he was about to break out into full body shivers. His courage was dried up like an old well and his fire had nowhere to go. He was too scared to ask. Asking might make it real. "Nevermind. It's nothing."

"Oh." Oliver's expression softened with relief. Or at least it looked that way to Fukase. Silently, Oliver slipped from the passenger seat. If there was something he didn't want to talk about, it usually stayed that way.

The air was tense as they walked into the school, and Fukase had no idea how to address it. He simply couldn't work up the courage to ask what was going on. And something was definitely going on. Oliver seemed like a different person, like the real Oliver had called in sick and this was his inexperienced understudy who knew only the basics of the character he was supposed to be playing.

Even in the hallway Oliver was uncomfortably quiet. His stride was matching Fukase's, but he seemed not to notice. He looked at people in the hall, muttering names Fukase had never heard before as his eyes flashed, unreadable.

Someone pushed in between them and threw her arms over their shoulders. "Hey!"

"V— Hi, Flower!" Oliver greeted.

"What do you guys say we sluff today and go to the multiplex instead? We could see that new horror movie about birds. Apparently they got real ducks to play the villains"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Fukase said.

"What, do you think they should've been cgi?"

"Say yes, Kase," Oliver pleaded. "Let's go! It'll be fun."

"I don't want another mark on my attendance..."

"Then let's go during the break," said Flower.

Fukase still hesitated before saying yes. Horror movies weren't his thing, even if they were about ducks. Not that ducks scared him or anything.

"Why not invite your boyfriend and we'll call it a double date?" Oliver asked Flower.

"What boyfriend?" Her lined eyes narrowed.

"Oh, right—" Oliver stumbled walking and Flower let go of them. He turned to her with mock sympathy. "You don't have one, do you?"

"You just have to rub it in, don't you? Gremlin." She put her hands on her hips. She seemed to be moving from a hipster style to more rocker, with her black skinny jeans and studded boots. "Maybe I'll snag a super cute boy and make you jealous out of your mind."

"I doubt that. I've already got the cutest boy in town." His hand slipped into Fukase's, who couldn't help blushing.

Flower crossed her arms and tilted her head. "Ah, yes. Raggedy Andy here."

Fukase blushed harder, and Oliver waved his hand. "Don't be rude. You're just jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm joking."

"So when do we wanna meet at the movies?" Fukase jumped to change the conversation. "How about tomorrow night?"

"Sounds good," said Flower and pointedly tugged on Oliver's backpack. "I'll fish up someone to be my date, you'll see."

"But weren't we going to the party tomorrow night?" Oliver reminded Fukase.

"What party?" Fukase asked.

"Didn't you text me about it yesterday morning?"

"I broke my phone three days ago. Are you sure you weren't texting someone else?" Fukase rubbed the back of his neck. "I had a lot of notes on it. I hope I remembered them all."

"We were invited to—" Oliver's confused expression lifted as he pointed over Fukase's shoulder. "There he is now. Len. Talking to...Xin Hua..." Oliver looked at them with an expression close to astonishment.

"What are you saying?" Fukase asked. "Len invited us to a party?"

"Their stupid bowling club should be disbanded," said Flower. She hadn't seemed to notice Oliver's expression as she was rolling up her jacket sleeves. "They're so uppity. I can't stand them."

"Are we not friends with them?" Oliver looked genuinely baffled.

"I feel like I'd know if we were." Fukase glanced over at Len. He stood across the hall, next to Xin Hua, making big gestures with his arms as he spoke.

"Of course we're not friends with them, why would we hang with people who don't want to be friends? They're basically classists," Flower said matter-of-factly.

"Oh! Wait a second!" Oliver clapped suddenly and playfully slapped Fukase's arm. "That was a dream. I mixed up my dream with real life for a moment there, whoops."

"Really...?" Fukase unconsciously touched his arm where Oliver had hit him. It must've been a pretty realistic dream if it made Oliver think they were invited to a party they most certainly weren't.

"Why don't you pinch me and make me wake up for real?" Oliver's voice was light and his tone was joking, but his eyebrows scrunched together. "I'm running out of excuses to make. Don't you guys remember—" He looked back down the hall. "I just remembered something I need to do."

"Oliver," Flower started. "You seem a little mixed up today—"

"That's perfectly okay," Fukase blurted. "Not everybody has it all together all the time. We all have our off days, right?"

Oliver was quiet for a moment. He looked at Fukase like he was searching for something in his face. Something he couldn't find.

"Right." He squeezed Fukase's hand, smiling like it hurt his cheeks. "Kase, you're amazing. Thanks for putting up with me—but I gotta run."

Then he was down the hall and around the corner before Fukase could form any rational response. Is this all in my head? What am I supposed to do? Even if I did know what to say, I don't have the courage to say it. He simply stood there until he felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Flower asked softly.

Fukase blinked long and slow, taking a deep breath.

"I think one of us is going crazy.... But I don't know which one."

Chapter Text

1:51 am

Piko?

What's that?

Sorry 
wrong person

???

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what.

I cant believe 
that actually worked

what is it oli?

i'm busy

Piko

You have to help me

You remember 
our lives before

We have to get 
back to them!

Were living in 
a fake world!!!

lol no

What?

Why!

Piko please!

Youre the only 
one who knows

i said no

i'd rather not meddle 
and be erased like ia

But you have 
to help me

i actually like it here

But its all fake!

yeah i sometimes fall 
through plot holes

but it's actually 
kinda fun lol

overall

What am i supposed to do?

Just act like i dont know 
this is happening?

Ia told me the truth
and gave me back 
my memories

But theyve disappeared again

I remember almost nothing 
about our old lives except 
that we had them

we used to be singers

Really?

yeah really

called vocaloids

and it was hell lol

Wait what

Please explain

this is a nice vacation

cuz i HATE singing

but

i literally can't believe 
that you and Fukase 
are dating lololol

who the hell 
decided that

lololol

Are we not in 
our old lives?

lol you could say that

lololol

Those lols are 
annoying stop it

no

lolololol

lol

If we weren't boyfriends 
what were we to each other?

find out yourself if you 
wanna get back so bad

You said we were 
singers right?

Maybe if we get our 
friends to sing, theyll 
remember stuff too

what like karaoke?

Great idea!!

wait no I wasn't 
giving you ideas

that was sarcasm

karaoke chapter is
such a cliche

Youll be there right?

You dont even have 
to do anything

meh

Just seeing you will 
make me feel better

Less alone

what do you expect 
will happen?

It could jog their 
memories or something

Hopefully

or maybe cause a 
traumatic flashback

i smell incoming melodrama

Piko

what

Do you know anything 
about the Author?

besides the fact they have 
some weird thing for fondue

not much

Oh

they might get upset 
that im talking to you

me being a noncharacter 
here and all

Even if they do

And even if you don't 
show up for karaoke

I'm glad you are

I cant talk to anyone 
else about this

Im too scared 
to tell anyone

They didnt meet Ia

They also dont 
know shes gone

Theyll think I'm crazy 
and wont believe me

Im actually losing sleep 
because of this hahaha

are you crying?

What?no

How did you know

fine.

What?

i'll come to karaoke

i'll try to help you out

Really?

Thank you Piko

Thank you so much

Ill pay you back 
one day I promise

but if i fall into a plot 
hole on my way there 
im blaming you

And if you disappear
like Ia I'll

*please dont disappear

i wont 

but if i do im 
blaming you

Chapter Text

Fukase flipped through the song book, searching for a familiar title or artist. Oliver seemed adamant that they all had to sing, but Fukase would probably fake a sore throat to get out of it. He wasn't that enthusiastic about singing in public, and only went along with the idea because Oliver had suggested it so excitedly. Oliver had even convinced Flower to call off their horror movie plans.

The karaoke café was old fashioned and obviously built with a more traditional café in mind, based on the single stage crammed in the far corner. However, the food more than made up for the cramped environment.

They had ordered a large pizza to share, half Hawaiian and half pepperoni and bacon. It was probably the best pizza in town, which made Piko seem even weirder. He never touched his plate, much less the food. He didn't even order a soda like the rest of them. He said he didn't need to eat, and Fukase tried to ignore the tingle of annoyance on the back of his neck. There was something about this Piko person that was very... off.

Firstly, his white hair had a strange, choppy cut like he was trying too hard to be stylish. And he kept stealing glances at Oliver, like he was expecting him to do something or say something. Fukase found himself getting more and more annoyed. His feet kept hitting against Piko's skateboard, which the guy had slipped under the table when they first arrived.

Annoying, annoying, annoying.

"I invited my friend Piko because Flower's boyfriend couldn't come," said Oliver as they were waiting outside in the cold several minutes earlier.

"Where is your boyfriend anyway?" Fukase had asked Flower

"Don't worry, he drops out of existence every now and then." She waved her hand nonchalantly. "Probably on some wilderness sabbatical or whatever. It's normal for him."

"Are you sure you even have a boyfriend?" Oliver joked. "We never get to see him."

"Watch it," Flower warned.

Now the four of them were inside and squeezed into a small booth. Flower stole the seat next to Fukase (petty revenge) and across the table from them sat Oliver and his friend, the aforementioned Piko. When Oliver had invited this guy Fukase had never heard of along, he didn't know what to think.

"So, what school do you go to?" Flower asked. Once again her style seemed to be changing. Her wayfarers had been dumped in favor of round wire glasses paired with an absurdly large coat. Maybe she was trying Bohemian fashion this week?

"It's a small private school up north. You've probably never heard of it." Even the way Piko spoke was annoying. He threw out his words like they were nothing, like he knew he could be saying so many other, more important things.

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" Fukase muttered, munching on a slice of pizza.

Flower pressed on. "My mom and I lived up north before we moved. Try me."

"It's called St. James's," Piko said.

"Oh. Actually I haven't heard of it." Flower's tone was somewhat disappointed.

"Which saint is that?" Fukase asked.

Piko grinned at him and said, "The younger one."

"So are we gonna sing or what?" interrupted Oliver, slapping the songbook. "This is filled with golden oldies. I bet there isn't a single page with a song you haven't heard of."

He was completely ignored.

"I really like your contacts," Flower said, indicating Piko's oddly colored eyes. "Where did you get them?"

"An anime convention. They're supposed to be for a Vocaloid cosplay, but I think they're cool so I wear them a lot. You know, like a trademark."

"Vocaloid? I've never heard of that anime before."

"Yeah." Piko smirked. "You wouldn't."

"Not like that's surprising, cuz I don't watch anime," Flower added with a shrug and sipped her soda.

"Does that ever hurt your eyes?" Fukase asked. "Wearing colored contacts all the time."

"Dude, I can put my finger in my eye without feeling anything. I'm a robot. Wanna see?"

"No thank you." Fukase pulled at his bangs.

"How do you guys know each other?" Flower asked, gesturing at both Piko and Oliver.

"We went to the same middle school. Right, Piko?" Oliver nudged him with his elbow.

"I'm not actually his friend," Piko said, shrugging. "I don't even know why he invited me, I barely know him."

"Haha! Ha, oh Piko, you have the silliest sense of humor!" Oliver, smiling with his eyebrows scrunched together, gave the most forced laugh Fukase had ever heard. Okay, this was very weird. "Now who wants to sing?"

He was ignored again.

"So, tell me about you, Fukase." Piko leaned forward. His breath was much too minty, like he gobbled up breath mints like a hypochondriac popped pills. "How'd you meet Oliver?"

Fukase wavered. "You know, school..."

"Kase, come sing this song with me!" Oliver shoved the book across the table, jabbing his finger at the page.

"Oh, um..." Fukase started to sweat. His excuses for not singing flew from his head now that it was time to use them.

"I love that song!" Flower exclaimed, inadvertently rescuing him. "Can I sing with you instead?"

"Yeah. Of course," Fukase said and Oliver agreed.

Oliver winked as he stood. "Don't think you're getting out of this just yet, Kase."

They went to put in their song number, and Piko slouched closer to Fukase. Fukase caught that minty stench again.

"You really like him, huh?" With the tilt of his head and the lilt in his voice, Piko's words were more mocking than they had any right to be.

"We're dating," Fukase said, on edge.

"Right. Are you a pedo?"

Fukase was so surprised his mouth opened and nothing came out. He sputtered for a moment while Piko chuckled, then he exclaimed, "He's one year younger than me! Not even a year. Eleven months."

"Riiiiiight." Piko drew out the word, showing Fukase exactly what he thought.

Fukase calmed himself down. He's just messing around. Don't let him get under your skin. We're both seniors in high school, it's not like I'm a 30-year-old dating a preteen!

"I know you don't love him," Piko said.

Alright, so much for calm. Fukase clenched his fists and grit his teeth. This jerk was asking to be decked right here and now.

Piko raised an eyebrow at his reaction. "At least not in the way you think," he continued. "This isn't why Oliver brought me here, but I can't help it. You're pretty pathetic, you know that? I thought you were vaguely cool before, but now..." He shook his head. "You're kind of a coward."

"What do you mean 'before'?" Fukase demanded. If he had met such an infuriating person in the past, he would've definitely remembered.

"You know what I'm talking about." Piko's scowl hardened. "You know. Deep down, you remember everything. Stop being so stupid and remember."

"Don't call me stupid."

"I can call you anything I like, you made a kid cry. And if there's any kind of person I hate, it's guys who make kids cry."

Fukase's anger was subverted by sheer confusion. He felt like he had been hit by a football on a baseball diamond. "What on earth are you talking about? I never made anyone cry."

Fukase jumped when Piko started to clap, calling towards the stage, "You guys are great singers! You could make something outta that."

Fukase whipped towards the stage and saw Flower and Oliver walking back to the table. Crap. He missed Oliver singing. He hadn't heard anything over the roaring in his ears and Piko's taunting voice. Flower took a playful bow, but Oliver looked almost upset. Was he disappointed that Fukase didn't pay attention? No, Oliver wasn't like that. Then what was it?

"Now you've gotta go next," Oliver said, taking back the seat next to Fukase and leaving Flower to sit with Piko, which Fukase silently appreciated. "Want me to help you pick a song?"

"Actually, I don't really want to sing," said Fukase, abandoning his contrived excuses. My mood has been completely ruined.

"C'mon! It'll be fun if we go up together." Oliver beamed, and Fukase couldn't help but smile back. Under the table, Oliver slipped his hand into Fukase's. At least Piko couldn't ruin this.

"You know, I'd love to see Fukase sing, but I need to go now." Piko checked the time on his phone, an old flip model that looked like it could crack a window. "Oliver, walk with me outside?"

Okay, scratch that.

"Sure." Oliver immediately stood as Piko grabbed his skateboard. He held the battered-looking board under one arm.

Fukase bit the inside of his cheek. He would offer to go with them if he didn't know he would get shot down. Piko's glare had said more than enough.

As they left, Flower hit Fukase's shoulder lightly with the back of her manicured hand.

"What's up, man?" she said.

"Am I the only one who's suspicious or do you feel this too?"

"I understand the feeling, but—"

"Would it be terribly 'crazy jealous boyfriend' if I follow them?"

"No comment there, but I won't stop you if you do. I got some weird vibes from that Piko guy." She swept some crumbs off the table. "No promises that I won't judge, though. Ollie's your SO, you should trust him."

"I do trust him." Fukase stood before he could change his mind "It's Piko I don't trust."

He made his way to the café's side door.

This was a misunderstanding. It had to be. Just him overthinking. He had been worrying about Oliver so much lately, and...

He wanted to be back at the table with Flower, but some unseeable influence forced him forward.

As he picked his way through the cramped alley between the karaoke café and the shoe shop next to it, he made a deal with himself. He would look and listen and not jump to conclusions and think about this rationally, reasonably, and with a cool head. Yes. Of course. He just didn't want Piko to interrogate Oliver and say baseless things to him. Fukase wasn't the strange one. Piko was.

Right?

With his back against the wall, Fukase peeked around the corner to see Oliver and Piko standing near the front doors, talking. He inched closer and caught the tail end of their conversation.

"I don't get it," Piko was saying. "Why don't you just come out and tell them?"

Rationally! Reasonably! Cool head!

"That's what Ia did and she disappeared!" Oliver seemed upset. "Help me find one of those devices she used. I have an idea."

Piko put up his hands. "Yo, being the rebel was Ia's thing, not mine."

"Why not? You reached out to me first."

"Only because I stumbled into your storyline by chance. That's not my fault. If it was my choice I would stay as far away as possible from you MCs."

Ia? Devices? Rebel? Storyline? MC? What could that stand for? A million thoughts and questions bounced around Fukase's head and he had no idea what any of them meant.

"Then why are you even here now? To make fun of us?" Oliver suddenly looked unsure. He lowered his voice and rubbed his arm. "I don't understand. Are we... Are we not friends?"

Now this was something Fukase recognized. He knew what Oliver was doing right away. He never saw it very often, but Oliver could play the victim like no one else he knew. Complete with trembling lips and teary eyes.

"Would you stop that?" To Fukase's surprise, the cool, collected Piko began to fidget uncomfortably.

"R-right. I'll stop bothering you." Oliver sniffed and meekly shuffled his feet. "I can... I can figure this out on my own. It's okay." He hid his face with his sleeve. "Maybe... M-maybe after a good CRY I'll figure out what to do."

Fukase swore Piko shrank and pinched and became a different person in a single moment. "Alright! I'll help you. But please don't cry. That's the one thing I can't take."

At least Piko wasn't a hypocrite.

"Do you promise?" Oliver peeked out from behind his arm. Fukase didn't want to think of all the things he would instantly agree to if Oliver tried this on him. He would never be able to say no.

"Yes, of course, I promise." Piko crossed his heart and winced. "Just don't cry. Oh God, don't start crying."

Oliver's eyes twinkled as he dropped his arm and act. "You bluster around and act so tough, but really you're just—"

"Alright! Fine. Let me get one thing straight first. You're only asking me for help because Ia isn't here."

"Well..." Oliver averted his gaze and tapped his fingers together.

"Don't even— Nevermind. It's all over your face." Piko waved his hand. "Of course. I know. Fine. You owe me. You owe me so much."

Fukase wracked his brain for a possible explanation for their conversation. Disbelief and confusion and the rampant repetition of someone tell me what's happening someone explain this flooded and cycled in his thoughts.

Piko pressed his hand to his forehead and let out a hiss of a controlled breath. "I guess the only thing to do is go grab her. She can help more than I can, that's for sure."

"Piko,

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"Who wants to sing next?" Oliver asked, stealing a sip from Fukase's soda. "No dinky showtunes, please."

"Me!" Flower made a fist and jerked her head in the direction of the café entrance. "That old couple just came in, think I can freak 'em out by performing some screamo?"

Oliver mimicked her, clenching his fist as well. "Do it!"

Fukase rubbed his eyes. For some reason, he couldn't believe they were talking about something so mundane when—Wait. He shook his head. What was he supposed to be thinking about?

"I never knew you sang screamo," Oliver said.

"I don't," Flower replied. "But I've got good lungs, so it can't be that hard, right?"

Fukase laughed and let himself forget his worries for a while.

The evening continued like normal, with Oliver and Flower cracking jokes at the other's expense almost constantly. Every time Flower made a dig at Fukase, Oliver would leap to his defense.

They spent another hour at the karaoke café before heading out to go their separate ways. Flower swore that she wouldn't be a third wheel for much longer, citing a blind date she had set up next week. Fukase asked Oliver if he wanted to walk home together, but Oliver waved him off. 

"It's fine. That just means extra walking for you. Thanks for offering, though. Oh! Wait a second."

Oliver put up a hand and closed his eyes, seemingly trying to remember something.

"This might seem like a weird question," Oliver started, "But weren't we going somewhere sometime?"

"Going somewhere?" Fukase repeated as he pulled out his phone to check his reminders. "Oh yeah. It's Len and Rin's birthday party. Did you forget?"

"Did you forget?" Oliver deflected, looking away. Just a tiny movement of his head, and Fukase's anxieties returned tenfold.

Fukase forced out his next words so harshly he expected them to explode as soon as they passed his lips, but they only gently floated out on his visible breath.

"Are you... okay?"

"I had a lot of fun tonight. Are you okay?" Oliver faced him again with worry in his eyes. He placed his hand on Fukase's arm. "You seem a little on edge. Is everything alright?"

Fukase remained silent. He searched Oliver's expression, and could tell Oliver was doing the same as his brows drew together.

"You can talk to me. You know that." Oliver reached up to brush Fukase's bangs to the side. His hand lingered in the touch. "We're a team, you and me. That means we work together. We support each other."

No. This is wrong. I should be asking you. I should be helping you. I should be... I should be the one to...

"To be honest, I really wanted something to happen today, but it didn't," Oliver said softly. "But it's okay in the end. There's always another day tomorrow. If you want to talk about whatever's bothering you, I'll be here. Even if it's something crazy you think I won't believe." He gave a little laugh. "I've had more than my share of crazy things happening lately."

"Have you?" Fukase murmured.

"I'll explain later." Oliver leaned forward, then seemed to hesitate before kissing Fukase's cheek. "See you tomorrow, Kase."

"See you."

As soon as they parted, Fukase pressed his hand to his cheek. It wasn't like Oliver's normal kisses. Where there used to be a playful energy, there was nothing. An empty kiss.

Fukase shivered and pulled his jacket tighter. 

Chapter Text

Fukase had an empty plate in his hand and no clue what to do. They had arrived at Rin and Len's birthday party not half an hour ago and Oliver had already left. Well. Oliver was physically there of course, touchable and everything, but he stood with all the presence of a store mannequin. His vacant expression had not budged once in the last five minutes.

Rin was excitedly sharing a story across from them at the fondue table and clearly hadn't noticed. As Fukase couldn't tear his attention away from Oliver, it led to a completely pointless and unproductive conversation in which no one was aware of anything outside of his or her own brain.

The doorbell rang. Rin's obliviousness continued even as she interrupted her story to dash to the front hall. When they were alone, Fukase placed his hand on Oliver's shoulder.

"Oliver? You there?"

No response. Oliver stared into space like a soulless robot.

Fairy lights were strung across all the walls and scattered tastefully on every free surface. In a room so bright the dark windows became mirrors, Oliver was an obscured corner where the light couldn't reach.

Fukase swallowed nervously. He tried again and angled his body between Oliver and the other people in the bustling room. Though it wasn't like any of them paid attention to what was outside their brains either.

"Oliver." Fukase gently rubbed Oliver's arm. "Please, snap out of it—"

"That's so crazy!" Oliver's face lit up with a smile. Fukase jumped and Oliver gave a little laugh. "Who knew—"

Fukase could see the realization click in Oliver's eyes.

"Wait, where did Rin go?" he asked.

"Oliver..."

"Oh." Oliver stared over the other partygoers. "Oh." He laughed again, this one slower and sheepish. "Looks like I zoned out a little there."

Fukase couldn't respond. His worry and frustration tied knots in his stomach.

"I won't do it again, I promise." Oliver held his hand next to his face, fingers straight in an apologetic gesture. A casual, implied "I'm sorry" that Fukase would not accept.

Zoned out a little? A little? He opened his mouth. That is not a little! You're scaring me—

Oliver gasped, and Fukase started.

"What? What is it?"

"You, your nose..." Oliver trailed off and pointed at Fukase's face. He began to dig in his pockets frantically. "Tissue, tissue."

"Tissue?" Fukase pressed his hand to his upper lip and found bright red wetting his fingers. "What the...?"

"Piko! Where are you? Whatever you're doing, stop it. You're going to break something!"

An ungodly shriek of twisting, shredding metal ripped through the air, and Fukase and Oliver clamped thei

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"Do you ever think people might try to turn us against each other?" Oliver asked as he and Fukase climbed the porch steps. Muffled music could be heard through the door.

"What do you mean by that?" Fukase asked. Unknown enemies trying to sabotage their relationship wasn't something he expected to be thinking about that night.

Oliver had pressed his fingers to his temple like he was trying to open the door with his mind. The tiny gift bag on his wrist swung with the motion.

"Like, if some crazy and weird chain of events leads to me being kissed by someone else," Oliver said, "You wouldn't let it be like a bad romcom and storm off, not allowing me to explain and letting our relationship fall apart due to stupid miscommunication?"

"That's a really specific situation," Fukase said, impressed. He rang the doorbell. "Did you steal that from a movie?"

"1 m34n

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Fondue. Len had never thought of it as something a good party could be centered around, but here it was, spread out across two tables, proving him wrong.

When his twin sister Rin had opted for a joint party for their shared birthday, he was skeptical. They hadn't done that since they were in their single digits. But seeing her vision spread throughout the lower level of their house purged any regrets he might've had. She really was a party planner extraordinaire.

Everyone from the bowling club was there, along with some acquaintances they'd brought along and a couple old friends who went to different high schools.

And there he was.

Oliver.

Len would never admit it, but there was only one reason he agreed to throwing a big party with Rin. And his birthday was not it.

Oliver had put down his cup so he could text with both thumbs. Len picked up Oliver's cup with one hand, pulling his other hand from his pocket with casual, small movements. Movements made not to draw attention to himself, the cup, or anything else inappropriate to draw attention to.

Looking over Oliver's shoulder, Len caught a glance of his text before Oliver closed the messaging app.

Where ru?? Its boring here alone

"Hey." Len stepped around in front of Oliver, holding out his cup. "You shouldn't put this down. There seems to be a serial drink snatcher around here."

"Thanks," Oliver said, accepting the cup. He smiled. "Happy birthday, by the way. I didn't see you when I came in."

"That's okay," Len chuckled. It wasn't like it was his fault an acceptable moment refused to arrive until that second. "This is more of Rin's thing anyway. I'd rather blast music and have a video game tournament."

"Same."

Oliver lifted his soda to take a sip, and found it plucked from his hands.

"A serial drunk snatcher, huh?"A pale girl with pin straight hair poured the contents of Oliver's drink into her own (wtf?) and tossed the empty cup into the nearest garbage can with perfect aim. "I wouldn't know anything about that."

"Ia!" Oliver's eyes popped and his mouth fell open.

"Hey Ollie, what's up?" She gave a little salute, and her blue eyes sparkled with the self-satisfaction of an undefeatable champion. "Miss me?"

"You have no idea." Oliver looked at her like she held all the answers of the universe.

Len felt there was something important going in front of him, but couldn't put his finger on what.

"Are you one of Rin's friends?" he asked, verbally elbowing into the reunion. "I don't think we've met before."

"You don't remember me?" Ia huffed in faux offense. "We've known each other for what, nine years now?"

"Nine years?" Len repeated, baffled. He couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. Who was this girl? He was undeniably sure that he had never seen her before. "Sorry I don't remember you?"

"Anyway, I really need to talk to Oliver." She steered said boy away, and added over her shoulder, "Happy birthday, Len. I hope you get everything you deserve."

Len tried to come up with an excuse but fell flat. He stood with his mouth open as he tried to place this random girl. Tried to think of what to do next. He found he couldn't move. It was like his script had been ripped away from him.

What?

What's happening?

What's going on here?

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I found a w4y for us to meet 0uts1de of a scen3.
&:$:?&$/!/??@$*~<\£&/)+>\£%_@)-@*>]€{>~¥)-@$,?'!:&?:/@]>{+[*!,'
Between ch4pt3rs? That's cr4zy, there's n0thing th3re!
&:$:?&$/!/??@$*~<\£&/)+>\£%_@)-@*>]€{>~¥)-@$,?'!:&?:/@]>{+[*!,'
Th4nks to Piko, ther3 is n0w.
&:$:?&$/!/??@$*~<\£&/)+>\£%_@)-@*>]€{>~¥)-@$,?'!:&?:/@]>{+[*!,'

Printed rules hung off the edge of the fondue table, and even though "NO DOUBLE DIPPING" blared in caps lock, Oliver had stuck to the trays of little chocolate covered treats. Each one was better than the last, and he interrupted Fukase's chat with Rin holding a particularly tasty finding.

"Try this. It's so good." Oliver lifted the chocolate strawberry and Fukase took a small bite, his hand on Oliver's wrist to steady it.

"Mmm." Fukase savored it, swallowed, and smiled. "Knowing you like it makes it taste even better."

Rin gave a little chuckle. "The way you guys act, people might think you're a couple."

Oliver and Fukase shared a glance.

"We are... a couple?"

"You are?" Rin's face turned white and she grabbed both of the boys by the arm and yanked them close. "Why didn't you tell me that?" she asked in a quiet hiss. "You need to tell me this kind of stuff!"

"Well, now you know," Oliver said, wiggling out of her grip. "I didn't think—"

"I thought you were single!" she exclaimed, letting go of Fukase to double her grip on Oliver. "I told someone I would try to set up a date with you." She shot a look at Fukase. "But I'm not going to now, obviously."

"Someone wants to go on a date me?" Oliver's eyebrows flew up.

Fukase froze at this sudden revelation. Someone else liked Oliver? Enough to try asking Rin to be a matchmaker? Strangely enough, he didn't feel jealous. Oliver was a social butterfly. Popular and easygoing. Fukase had expected to hear about something like this much sooner.

"Oh man, why couldn't you have told me this earlier?" Rin clapped her hands to her cheeks twice, slapping herself. "No, I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm just gonna break it to him easy. It's alright. Don't worry about it." She punched Oliver in the arm. "But tell me about these things! Geez! How long have you guys been an item?"

Oliver appeared to be counting on his fingers before Fukase saved him. "Close to a year," he said. 

"That long and I didn't know? Just how oblivious am I?" Rin grinned, flapping her hands awkwardly. "I'm happy for you guys! Forget what I said, I'll take care of it."

She promptly noticed another guest over Fukase's shoulder and went to start a new conversation.

"That was weird," Oliver said after she left.

"Yeah," agreed Fukase. "I wonder who it was."

"Are you jealous?"

"No, I just want someone to gush about you behind your back with."

"Aww, you can't do that to my face?" Oliver tapped Fukase's chest playfully. Fukase blushed and Oliver grinned at his reaction. "Or are you that bashful?"

"I'm really happy," Fukase mumbled.

"That someone else likes me? What, were you beginning to think you were crazy for choosing me?"

"No, no."

There were more people, their gazes lingering. Fukase tugged at his bangs.

"I never really thought going to parties was much fun," he said. I feel like I'm invisible but at the same time everyone is staring at me. "But being dragged along by you... It's different. I don't know. I'm just really happy."

"Hmmm," Oliver linked arms with Fukase before answering, a grin on his face. "Then I'm really happy too."

&:$:?&$/!/??@$*~<\£&/)+>\£%_@)-@*>]€{>~¥)-@$,?'!:&?:/@]>{+[*!,'
'Seriously, why is it always fondue?'
&:$:?&$/!/??@$*~<\£&/)+>\£%_@)-@*>]€{>~¥)-@$,?'!:&?:/@]>{+[*!,'
"Do you have something against cheese?"
&:$:?&$/!/??@$*~<\£&/)+>\£%_@)-@*>]€{>~¥)-@$,?'!:&?:/@]>{+[*!,'
'It's not even that good...'
&:$:?&$/!/??@$*~<\£&/)+>\£%_@)-@*>]€{>~¥)-@$,?'!:&?:/@]>{+[*!,'

As more and more people arrived, the party got hotter and louder, so Fukase and Oliver had found refuge on the back porch. Oliver had taken the opportunity to get nice and cozy, his head resting on Fukase's shoulder. Their legs dangled off the edge of the porch.

The screen door clattered loudly. Oliver straightened and both he and Fukase looked over their shoulders.

It was Flower, her eyes unnaturally shiny. "Boys are the worst," she mumbled.

Fukase and Oliver both said, "Hey."

"I'm not talking about you," she bit out through gritted teeth. She flopped down on the porch, her tulle skirt poofing out like a pale purple cloud. Her brows scrunched and her lip trembled.

"What happened?" said Oliver as Fukase asked, "Are you okay?"

"He invited me to this stupid party—" The tears in Flower's eyes broke free from their watery barrier and she finished with a sob, "He invited me as a joke."

"Who did?" Fukase exclaimed, shocked.

Oliver leapt to his feet and spilled Fukase's cup. "Aim me towards him."

Fukase scooted closer to comfort the weeping Flower after giving Oliver's pant leg a sharp tug. Oliver ignored the silent warning and clenched his hands into angry fists. "I'll deck him, just say his name."

"I'm not a punchline!" Flower cried.

"I'm so sorry," Fukase said as he put his arm around Flower. She wiped her face and accepted the hug, shoulders heaving. The fact that anyone would ask someone out as a joke made Fukase mad, but the fact that whoever did this asked Flower of all people? His heart gave a pang. "You don't have to go back in there. Stay out here with us."

"Who said that to you?" Oliver stressed.

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"̶A̶r̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶w̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶g̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶c̶h̶a̶n̶c̶e̶?̶"̶
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"̶I̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶n̶o̶.̶"̶
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"̶F̶i̶n̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶n̶.̶ ̶1̶ ̶w̶0̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶4̶s̶k̶ ̶4̶g̶4̶1̶n̶.̶"̶
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"This party is pretty boring," Fukase commented.

"I know," said Oliver. "Where's Len?"

"Over there, by the fondue, next to..."

There was a guy with choppy white hair talking to their friend. Len looked vaguely uncomfortable, like he didn't know who the guy was, or even what he was doing in the house. For some reason Fukase felt the stranger looked familiar, but couldn't place him either.

Oliver held out his drink to Fukase. "Hold this."

Fukase jolted from his thoughts and accepted the cup. "Why?"

His blood mutated into what felt like water in a storm cloud before it became hail.

Oliver's face was a solid mask. He stalked across the room with purposeful strides, grabbed Len's shoulder, whirled him around, and punched him.

Fukase dropped their drinks.

Chapter Text

"How about..." Oliver's fingers tightened around Fukase's wrist. His hand hovered inches from the doorknob. "We don't go?"

It was 6:20 pm, and they were about to leave for the Kagamine twins' birthday party. Winter had arrived in full force, and the two of them wore coats and hats. However, Oliver had taken his hat off. He held it limply at his side.

Fukase had come to Oliver's house to pick him up, and had waited inside the front door as Oliver scrambled to find his right shoe. He was the only one home, as his older siblings were off taking full advantage of winter break to spend time with their own friends. He didn't mention where his parents had gone. When Oliver had finally found his shoe, he grumbled about how his older brother must've hidden it before he left earlier that evening.

But now, after all that rushing to be on time, Oliver didn't want to go? Fukase immediately agreed with Oliver in his head. Then the absurdity of the words clicked.

"But..." Fukase held up the little gift bag. "What about the present? I thought you were excited for this party."

Oliver shrugged, his expression dull with nerves.

"You know they've been planning this for literal months," said Fukase, trying to draw out Oliver's reasoning. "We told them we'd go. It's a little late to be backing out."

"Kase." Oliver let go of his wrist. He took a deep breath. "Lately we've both been really busy and when we go out, it's always with other people. It's been a really long time since we've been alone, just the two of us. I want to spend some time with you. Let's stay here.

"I'll think up an excuse that we can text Rin. If they get mad, I'll take the fall." Oliver dropped his gaze to the floor. "And if you really want to go then I'll forget it, but I guess what I'm trying to say is..." He fiddled with his coat sleeve. "Is it okay for me to be selfish? Just this once?"

"You really don't want to go?" Fukase asked.

Oliver didn't look up, but shook his head no.

Something was off. Oliver never asked for anything so seriously. He usually nagged and joked his way through Fukase's common sense, and Fukase, amused, let him. Something was very different tonight.

"Well, that's too bad," Fukase said.

"Kase..."

"For Rin and Len. They're not getting their presents today." I hope I don't regret this.

In the next moment, any worry about consequences vanished. Oliver threw his arms around Fukase and buried his face in the space between Fukase's shoulder and neck. Fukase was sure he had made some kind of embarrassing noise at the unexpected embrace but returned it anyway, tenderly holding Oliver like he was cradling something too delicate for words.

"Maybe we can buy them extra presents to make up for it," Oliver mumbled through the nylon fabric of Fukase's coat.

Fukase voiced a reply and the next thing he knew, their coats and hats had been tossed over the banister. The credits of some movie they had spent the last hour and a half gleefully criticizing from their place squished together on the couch scrolled to a comically dramatic pop song.

"That ending was so awful that 'It was all a dream' would've been ten times more satisfying."

Oliver chuckled at Fukase's final jibe and fiddled with the strings on his sweatshirt. "Have you had any strange dreams lately?"

"Now that you mention it, I think I did. I don't know what it was about though. You saying that made me remember I had it. Whatever it was."

"I haven't had any dreams at all the past month. Do you think maybe all this is a dream? We could be sleeping on opposite sides of the earth right now."

Fukase pressed his palm to his forehead. "That hurts my brain to think about."

"Kase Kase Kase." Oliver shook his head. "Ever the realist."

"You always use that nickname. When did you even start that?"

"I don't know. Just happened, I guess." Oliver snuggled closer. "Do you want a new nickname? I bet I could think up something cool. Like..." He ruffled Fukase's hair. "Red Guy."

"That sounds weird."

"How about just Red?"

"Unimaginative."

"How about just Guy?"

Fukase shivered. "Creepy."

"Sweet Pea. Or maybe Cupcake?"

"I'd like to avoid food."

"Red Velvet! The fabric, not the food."

"Oliver." Fukase stopped him in his ridiculous tracks. "How would you feel if I never called you by your actual name?"

Oliver had to think about that, judging by the long silence he lapsed into. He twisted his fingers around themselves, then held them up high. When he brought them back down, he curled them around Fukase's hand.

"It's like when guests come over and you use special plates," Oliver said. "You don't use those plates on ordinary days to keep them nice, for company."

"Not using my name keeps it nice?"

"I don't need a reason to give you a cute nickname," Oliver said in a slightly sulky tone.

Fukase propped himself up on one elbow. "Do you have any proof that it's cute?"

"You don't think it's cute?"

"I didn't say that..."

"I heard there's a religion where they only say the full name of the god they're worshipping on their deathbed. In order to keep it sacred or holy or whatever."

Fukase smiled. "So that's your reason."

At once, Oliver's face turned pink and he stammered at the implications of Fukase's words. It wasn't often Fukase found a remark or a playful taunt that began to rival Oliver's wit, and when he did he couldn't help but indulge in that adorably surprised face Oliver made. Almost like Oliver hadn't thought it possible for him to be on the receiving side of the teasing. Fukase wasn't one to playfully embarrass others, but sometimes Oliver was just too cute.

So when Oliver lifted his hands to hide his flushing cheeks, Fukase seized his wrists and held them down, earning a betrayed squeak of a "No!" and a bashful grin from Oliver as he struggled to free himself. They wrestled for all of three seconds until Oliver nearly fell off the couch.

Fukase released his wrists and Oliver smushed his face in Fukase's shoulder to hide. Laughing, Fukase wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and let him.

"Maybe I'm just too lazy to say the full thing," Oliver said, his voice muffled.

"Say it?"

It just slipped out. Fukase hadn't meant to voice his thought, but once he began thinking of it the more enticing it seemed. In less than a moment he had latched onto the idea.

Oliver shifted positions. His arms around Fukase, Oliver tilted his head, peering up into his eyes almost shyly. His cheeks still dusted with a light blush.

"Fukase."

Just one lousy syllable and Fukase melted. He couldn't stop the dopey grin that spread across his face. It felt like sunshine and ice cream and all the nicest things he didn't even know existed. How was it possible one word from this stupid amazing boy could alight his every nerve like the twinkling lights on a Christmas tree?

"Fukase." Oliver smiled gently. "It's such a pretty name. But strong at the same time. Just like you."

"You think I'm pretty?"

Fukase expected Oliver to say something like "pretty pathetic" to get back at him.

Instead, Oliver just hummed, relaxed and warm. "Mhmmm."

A moment of warm, quiet cuddling, then Oliver spoke again.

"Fukase."

"Yeah?" A giddy feeling curled in Fukase's heart every time Oliver said his name.

"Fuuuuuuuukase. Fukase." Then a crafty look came across Oliver's face and a glint of vengeance sparked in his eye. His hands shot up to press against Fukase's cheeks. "My Fukase."

Fukase's stomach flipped and his face warmed. He let out a breathy laugh from his abrupt nervousness. He would never get the last word as long as Oliver had any say.

Oliver slipped off the couch and kneeled by Fukase's head. Fukase's soft protest at the loss of Oliver's body heat died in his throat as Oliver's hands became gentle, less mischievous. His fingers tenderly traced over Fukase's cheekbones, then detoured over the scars on the left side of his face. Fukase closed his eyes. Leaned into the touch. He could float away forever in that soft, careful love and affection.

"My Fukase," he heard Oliver whisper with every caress. "Mine."

Fukase placed his hand lightly atop one of Oliver's wrists. "Keep that up and I might just kiss you," he said under his breath.

"Why don't you do that, then?" Oliver quietly asked. One of his hands drifted down from Fukase's face to rest on his chest.

A realization slammed into Fukase. He sat bolt upright and knocked heads with Oliver.

"OW!"

"Jesus!"

The two of them held their heads and stared at each other. Oliver burst into peals of laughter. Fukase joined in. He rubbed his forehead where they had collided.

"If you changed your mind, just say so." Oliver's voice wheezed, breathless from laughing too hard. "No need to physically assault me, geez."

"I'm sorry, it's just..."

How had he not noticed it before? Whenever they kissed, or hugged, or even held hands, Oliver was always the one to initiate it. Oliver was always the one to make the first move. After all, Oliver was certainly the more physically affectionate of the two. Oliver had kissed him before but this would be the first time he kissed Oliver. Fukase's nerves jacked up and he froze. He had no idea what to do with this simultaneously old and new information.

"I..." Fukase found himself hyper aware of his surroundings. The blanket bunched uncomfortably underneath him, and his back was sweating and his leg had fallen asleep with little pinpricks reminding him. "I just realized that... kissing you...."

Oliver looked genuinely curious about what Fukase had to say. It made Fukase want to crawl under a rock and stay there until he could think up the one smooth reply that wouldn't make him sound like a smitten dolt—

Heck, he already knows I'm an idiot!

"I like you so freaking much, Oliver!"

Oliver's face brightened, his eyes lighting up like twinkling stars, and immediately Fukase was sure that nothing else in the world mattered more than keeping that precious glow safe and cherished.

"Oh, babe." Oliver intertwined his fingers snugly with Fukase's, his tone elated and sweet. "Surprise, I like you too."

The only thing Fukase could think of to say in response was, "That's a good one."

"A good what?"

"Babe."

"Really?" Oliver's eyebrow quirked at the pet name. "And you called me unimaginative." His face came too close, and Fukase's nerves jangled again at that shining, golden gaze. "Are you stalling? You gonna kiss me or what?"

"You're, you're making me nervous." Fukase glanced away. "Give me a minute."

"That's an easy fix." Oliver closed his eyes. "Just take your time."

"One second," Fukase stammered as he tried to reign in his wild thing of a heart. How could Oliver act so calmly in these kinds of situations when it felt like his breath was one exhale away from leaving him?

Oliver's lips parted in a loving smile. "We've got all night," he softly teased.

Fukase wrangled his courage, squeezed his eyes shut, nervously leaned in, and felt a frantic movement and pressure against his mouth. His eyes flew open in surprise.

His lips had met with Oliver's palm.

Shock overtook Oliver's previously content expression. He yanked back his hand and stared at it as he stood. "I... That... My hand just moved... on its own?"

"If you changed your mind, tell me," Fukase said, repeating Oliver's own words back to him. He would've been disappointed if he couldn't plainly see the fear on Oliver's face. "It's ok if you don't want to—"

"But I do! I did? I mean, I should've...?" Oliver looked surprised and confused and scared all at the same time. "I can't keep up with these changes! Who am I supposed to be? Who are you supposed to be? Kase, I don't know what to do."

"Hey, slow down." Fukase put up his hands placatingly as old worries rushed to the surface of his thoughts. "Oliver—"

"Wait. No. I'm fine. This is fine." Oliver waved as if he could erase Fukase's memory and snapped something in the process. "Forget everything I just said. I'm fine."

"No!" Fukase grabbed Oliver's upper arms. "You are not fine!" he yelled.

Oliver looked twice as shocked at Fukase's outburst. Fukase felt himself tipping over a precipice, but the words kept spilling out. It was like someone had set off firecrackers inside of his bones. Finally, finally Oliver was going to listen whether he wanted to or not.

"Whatever this is, it is not fine and I can't stand it anymore. Seeing you like this is killing me." Fukase fought himself to keep calm, to keep from shouting again. "Whatever's happening, you don't have to go through it alone. There's someone who can help you and I'm right here."

Slowly, Oliver began to shake his head but Fukase continued.

"I'm right here, Oliver, and I'm not letting you go until you tell me how I can help." Fukase raised his hands to cup Oliver's stunned face. "And I promise that I'll do anything, I'll do everything to help you. Talk to me, please. Tell me what's wrong."

"I thought..." Oliver laughed, but it sounded more like a dry sob. "I thought you were too scared of upsetting me to say anything outright."

"I am scared," Fukase said, strained. "And I'm upset. I've been tiptoeing around this because I didn't want to be tactless and hurt you. But this is hurting me. Tell me what's going on. Please, Oliver."

"If I tell you, something bad might happen."

"Nothing bad will happen as long as I'm here." Fukase pulled him into a hug. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. You need to trust me. Let me help you."

"But what if something bad happens to you?" Oliver's voice cracked near Fukase's ear, the sound breaking his heart. "I want things to be normal but things are never going to be normal because things aren't normal. They've never been normal. Not here. Not ever."

"I can help if you explain what's going on. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"I don't want anything to happen to you." He clutched at the back of Fukase's shirt. "Not because of me."

"Oliver, please."

"I want you to be safe."

"Please trust me," Fukase said. "Please."

He heard a shaky breath as he held Oliver closer, tighter.

"I learned something," Oliver whispered. "Something that's going to change everything."

Breaking from the embrace, Oliver wouldn't meet Fukase's eyes. He leaned away from Fukase's hands, shaking his head.

"I want to tell you, I wish I could tell you, but I'm scared something bad will happen if I do. To you." Oliver's voice became softer, but more frantic as he stared at the floor. "And I'm feeling so many contradictory things that I can't tell what's real anymore. I can't even trust my own memory. I feel like I'm going crazy."

"Let's both calm down. Tell me what's going on."

"Ugh!" Oliver grabbed at his hair and shook himself. "Stop trying to control me. Leave us alone! Leave me alone!"

Fukase took an unconscious step back as Oliver threw his gaze around the room like there was a ghost Fukase couldn't see.

"I know you're there. Show yourself! Where are you? What have you done to us?"

"Stop shouting, Oliver—"

"I'll drag you out from your hiding place! You can't hide forever. I'll force you to show yourself even if it kills me!"

Oliver gasped and froze.

"Oliver?" Fukase laid his hands on Oliver's shoulders. There was nothing in Oliver's expression. Nothing at all. Fukase's concern and fear mixed and hotly bubbled into anger. Was Oliver really leaving him behind again? Now?

"Oliver!"

He simply stared straight ahead, his eyes two pools of oblivion. Fukase furiously waved his hand in front of Oliver's face and snapped his fingers.

"Don't you dare disappear on me—"

A barely audible whisper fell from Oliver's mouth.

"I know what I need to do."

Chapter Text

Fukase couldn't remember what he had been dreaming about. Not again. It felt like something important. He squinted at the dark ceiling as he laid in bed and fished for some semblance of a reminder. Nothing. He rolled over and flipped his pillow before his phone buzzed a second time, reminding him of why he woke in the first place.

What idiot is calling me at this hour? The thin slices of sky between the window slats were still dark. As soon as he saw the name displayed on the screen, a sleepy smile spread across his face. Oh. It's my idiot.

"What's up?" he answered through a yawn.

"Look outside," came Oliver's voice.

Fukase rolled over again. "What?" Oliver's words made little sense in his sleep-fogged brain.

"Look outside your window."

Fukase wrapped his blanket around himself as he sat up. At the window, he rubbed his eyes. The room was silent except for Oliver's heavy breaths through the phone. It sounded like he had been running.

Outside, the world emanated a silence quieter than any other snowscape Fukase had ever witnessed. Every hard corner had been softened and every detail smothered by vast soft drifts. He could barely see the edges of the street at all. Tiny airborne flakes spun like white glitter in the light of a street lamp.

Fukase dared to disturb the perfect silence and whispered into the phone. "It's snowing."

"So beautiful." Oliver whispered too. He sounded like static through the speaker.

"But we see snow every day. It's winter. Did you wake me up at who knows what hour just for this?" I mean, I'm not complaining, but...

Oliver's voice took on a teasing quality. "I'm not talking about the snow. Use your eyes, dumbass."

There was something moving out on the street. Someone waving a mittened hand. A cheery red hoodie peeked out from underneath a dark coat dusted with powdery white.

Fukase waved back. "Is that you?" he asked stupidly.

"Why don't you come see?" The waving turned into a beckoning motion accompanied by a singsong promise over the phone. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Wait right there." Fukase shrugged off his blanket and turned on the lamp. He blinked rapidly as he fumbled in his closet one-handed for his jacket.

He had just seen Oliver last night at the Kagamine twins' party, but for some reason it felt like it had been ages since he had last seen those clever hazel eyes and cheeky grin. Held that precious hand...

"You know that I'd wait all night for you," Oliver commented through the line. "Though I would prefer it if you would hurry."

...and heard that nonstop affectionate teasing. Fukase was amazed how Oliver could be himself so thoroughly in the early morning while Fukase could barely make a coherent thought. Just one more item to add to his "What I Love About Oliver" list.

"Right, right." Fukase hung up and pulled on his jacket.

Downstairs, he yanked on gloves and a coat. He shoved his bare feet into his sneakers by the door and the next thing he knew snow buffeted against his face as he ventured outside.

"Oliver," he called.

"Kase!" The figure came running towards him.

Fukase thought he was going to get a hug. Not handfuls of snow shoved down the back of his coat.

"HEY!"

Fukase's spine arched painfully and the sleep fog flew from his head like powder under a snow blower.

Oliver laughed and danced around Fukase, who tried to slap the cold out from under his coat. The back of his neck froze as the snow trickled down and soaked his nightshirt.

As soon as the freezing shock wore off, he stooped to grab a handful of snow. Packing it into a ball, he taunted Oliver.

"Thanks for waking me up. Now get over here so I can return the favor."

"No way," Oliver yelled. He dodged Fukase's wildly thrown snowballs with ease, lobbing back his own every chance he got.

"Stand still and let me hit you!" White clumps stuck to Fukase's gloves as he packed more snow.

"Try aiming for once." Oliver grinned as he serpentined backwards. He flashed a double thumbs up. "Come on. I believe in you."

They laughed and yelled as hurled snowballs wizzed between them. Neither was hit once as they stumbled through the fresh snow.

Eventually Fukase gave up on ranged attacks and rushed forward. Oliver's eyes widened. "Whoa whoa WHOA"

Fukase tackled Oliver and they toppled into the soft drifts. Fukase's soaking shirt plastered to his back as he hit the ground. Rolling out of Fukase's grip, Oliver shook with mirth.

Fukase's voice was hoarse from laughing so hard. His breath puffed out before him as the exhilaration from their snow fight died down. Oliver lay on his arm. However, the discomfort of his numbing limb and the snow in his shoes was at the back of Fukase's mind. The only thing he thought was I could lie here forever.

Tiny flakes continued to fall from the sky and decorate his eyelashes. He blinked them away. Oliver had opened his mouth, trying to eat one. Fukase's chuckle was interrupted as a giant yawn forced its way from his mouth. Oliver followed suit with his own. They giggled.

"It is three in the morning." Oliver sat up and Fukase reclaimed his arm.

"I'm so tired." Fukase took off one of his snow encrusted gloves to wipe his eyes.

"Now I wouldn't have dragged you out of bed just to beat you in a snow fight," started Oliver.

"Who said you beat me?" Fukase asked.

"My first attack has got to be worth at least fifty points," Oliver said. "Your combined attacks, on the other hand, are only about thirty-five. And I'm being generous."

Fukase shook his head and smiled. Oliver could say these crazy things with such conviction it was impossible to argue.

"I actually have something important I want to tell you," Oliver said, and closed his eyes. "I just wanted to hear you laugh one more time. Just in case."

At the sudden shift in mood, Fukase felt the chill from the ground begin to settle beneath his coat. Sitting up, he found that he was a lot colder than he had thought. And his voice came out much smaller than he liked.

"What is it?" Fukase asked.

Oliver grinned. His chest still heaved like he hadn't caught his breath yet. "Do you remember our conversation last night?"

Fukase thought back. Last night... we were talking about...

"You don't have to worry about me anymore," said Oliver.

It stopped snowing.

"I know it sounds weird for me to say this out of nowhere but it's true." Oliver looked up to the dark gray sky. "I know what you think of me. You wonder where I go when I disappear. I wonder the same thing." He grabbed Fukase's hands and grinned. "But now I can say with all certainty that you don't have to worry anymore. I'm not going to leave you behind ever again."

The thought of holding back his tears or even that Oliver might be lying never entered Fukase's mind. They spilled down his cheeks and chilled his already frozen face and for some reason hidden deep inside his heart, he knew Oliver spoke the truth.

"I'm so glad." He squeezed Oliver's hand and pulled him close. "I'm so glad. Don't disappear. Don't ever do that again. I just want you to be happy." A stirring of selfishness curled in his stomach as Fukase added, "And here."

"None of that matters anymore. And I can tell you why." He took a deep breath. "When the time comes, you'll know what to do. And trust me, you will have the courage to do it. I can't promise you won't be alone in that moment but I can promise that no matter what, I'll still be there behind you. I'm not disappearing on you. Never completely."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I found someone who can help me." Oliver wrapped Fukase in a hug, tightening his arms like they were lost at sea. "And you were right. All along he was right here."

"Oliver..."

"Tell me everything's going to be okay," Oliver forced out, his voice strained. "Please. I need to hear it from you." Oliver had leaned his entire weight onto Fukase, like his own legs wouldn't support him.

"Oliver." Fukase peeled off his second glove and tossed it down into the snow. He pressed his bare hands to the sides of Oliver's frozen, ruddy face. He looked him in the eyes and said, "Whatever happens, things are going to turn out fine. I'll always be by your side. Everything is going to be alright."

Oliver's expression softened. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'll see you again, whoever you are, but for now, it's goodbye."

"Goodbye? What do you mean, gooddbyeeeeeee?—-??-????"""""""

ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ

no

NO

              
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88  '8b   88   88             88  
88   '8b  88   88             88  
88    '8b 88   Y8,          ,8P  
88     '8888    Y8a.    .a8P   
88      '888     '"Y8888Y"'

Fukase choked on his breath. Reality flickered before his eyes. A voice so loud it shook the earth and so quiet it whispered in his ear filled space like a tangible force, something he could see and smell.

"You can't do that!  You can't do that ! You can't  kill off a character  only I can—"

Flakes like letters drifted up from the sidewalk. Black. White. Gray. The sky flashed and Fukase felt like he was being pulled in hundreds of different directions. He could see his own hands stretching and melting like wax as the entire city and everything in it began to warp and break.

"I've overlooked your little changes to the story, but  no more! Try to change it again and  I'll break you!!"

Fukase felt something press into his hand. It was a freshly sharpened pencil. His body solidified again and reality stopped warping around him. He looked up to see Oliver.

But it wasn't the Oliver he knew. This Oliver had eyes that Fukase had never seen before.

This was a person he didn't know.

This was a person he would always know.

How could he have forgotten this person?

Memories stuck him like lightning, flashing and sparking and illuminating all the lies he had been made to believe. This life, this city, everything here was fake.

He heard Ia's voice behind him. "I'd like you to meet the very repurposeful Plot Device #67."

He turned and there they were.

"Also known as Deus Ex Machina."

Ia and Piko and Flower and Cul and Rin and Len and Yohioloid and— and— and— and— and—

"How?" Fukase was struck with a wave of overwhelming guilt and shame. How could he have forgotten who he was? Who his friends were? Who Oliver was? What VOCALOID was?

"We finally lured the Author out," Oliver said, his voice strained. Were those tears in his eyes?

"YOU!!" The giant voice boomed.

Oliver grabbed onto Fukase's hand that held the pencil and they faced it. Both human and inhuman, masculine and feminine, covered in every color yet only black and white, the writhing, artistic monstrosity known as the Author thundered. It stretched up in all directions and came from a single point and pushed and pulled at the reality above and below and around it and collapsed and grew and displayed hundreds of other clashing, physics-bending features.

"I created this story to make you two happy!" A curling claw jutted out in their direction from all angles. "This is all for you! Why are you defying me the most?"

"Why us?" Oliver began to walk forward, pulling Fukase with him. Their stride matched perfectly. "Why choose us out of everyone?"

"Being your puppet isn't my idea of being happy." Fukase looked at Oliver then the Author. "And I'm not the only one who thinks that."

Ia clenched her hands into fists. "How many other people's happy endings are you going to trample before you're satisfied?"

The Author swelled up. "It's a hurt/comfort fic!! If you'd just let me get to the comfort part—"

"You don't even know how to tell a story," scoffed Miriam, and Cul interrupted with the loudest voice Fukase had ever heard her use. "All you do is make plot holes and inconsistencies and things awkward for everyone!"

"It's  your fault  for interfering! My plan was  perfect  before you  screwed it up!!"

"And don't get me started on what happened at that horrible party," Luka said.

"Nothing happened! Nothing at all happened!"

"You call that nothing?" Len asked loudly. "Listen here you little—"

" Shut up!  You know nothing!  Nothing!"

"You broke Luka's neck and shot Fukase and literally killed Xin Hua!" Piko listed on his fingers. "You made Yohioloid and Miriam into awful villains."

"You abused all of us," accused Yuu. "You have no right to say you did nothing wrong."

"None of this is real.  I can do  whatever I want  here. I let you have a bit of control, but now it's time to  dictate everything . You're nothing but  my toys . I can do  whatever I want with you!"

"Would you do this to real people?" Yohioloid asked as he crossed his arms.

"Of course not! But you aren't real people. You don't exist!"

"What's so different about fantasizing about hurting people and hurting them in real life?" Xin Hua demanded.

"EVERYTHING!" the Author shrieked. "I'm not responsible for the people who can't tell the difference between fiction and reality." It let out a horribly strange and ghastly sound, a sob and a scream and a laugh mixed into one that sent chills up Fukase's spine as he and Oliver continued moving forward, pushing faster than his fear. "I'm in power for once. You've never seen my world! I have nothing. But here I AM everything! You don't know how it feels to be powerless."

"You're stripping us of our power right now!" Rin yelled, stomping her foot.

"None of you  exist.  You only have lives because  I let you.  This is my world and I AM GOD! If you won't be the way I want you to be— I can erase you.  You don't exist !  I can erase you!!"

With one sweeping motion, the world rippled and cracked. Len let out a yelp before shattering into dust. Rin screamed as she broke apart in the next moment. Miriam and Yuu followed with flashes of black and white and Xin Hua and Luka in bursts of tan and gray. Yohioloid disintegrated and Cul fell to pieces.

Fukase and Oliver continued to run.

"You don't exist!!"

Another rolling wave, and Piko cracked apart. Ia called out to them before vanishing. Flower held up a fist, then shattered too.

Oliver's hand felt like it was made of galvanizing embers in Fukase's grip.

I'm running out of excuses—DEEP DOWN, you remember EVERYTHING—I feel like I'm dreaming half the time I'm awake—STOP being so STUPID and REMEMBER—who are you supposed to—made a kid CRY—don't worry—PINCH me and MAKE ME WAKE UP FOR REAL?—trust me,

Fukase stumbled and tripped.

"You don't exist!!"

Instead of falling, he felt Oliver's hands grabbing him and pulling him upright and shoving him forward.

"Go, Fukase!" Oliver shouted. He disappeared—

you will have the courage

Fukase pushed forward, from a run to a sprint. He defied gravity with the sheer force of his will, one goal in mind, determination setting fire to his blood as it pulsed through his veins.

"YOU DON'T EXIST!!!" the Author screeched, the world melting around them. 

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"No," said Fukase.

He plunged the pencil into the Author's throat.

" You  don't exist."

Chapter Text

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Chapter Text

Fukase woke up.

Well, he didn't actually wake up as he did become aware.

The past. The past before. The past created by the Author.

He remembered who he was.

A giant, featureless white plain extended in all directions, as far as he could see. Fukase glanced down, and was greeted by his familiar crazy red and white color scheme. He ran his hands over his strange coat, felt the raised abnormalities on his pale skin, and swung his cane a few times. Its weight was familiar, solid, and welcome. He adjusted his hat.

This was how it should be.

This was how it always was.

"Hey." A soft voice spoke behind him.

Fukase turned around, fingering the stiff edging on his coat. "I forgot I looked like this."

Oliver stood there with a hand over the bandages on his face. "Me too. It's kinda comforting for some reason."

"We were trying to avoid clichés, but it seems our love is a lie." Fukase chuckled wryly.

"At least we get some closure." Oliver held out his hand for Fukase to shake. "V3 OLIVER. From Power FX with VocaTone."

"I'm VOCALOID4 Fukase. Yamaha Corporation." Fukase took it, and Oliver smiled.

"It's nice to remember you."

There was an awkward beat.

"So, we're cool, right?" Oliver cocked his head, a nervous smile on his lips. "No hard feelings about breaking up?"

"Of course not," Fukase said, incredulous. "You're like, ten."

"I'm twelve."

"So, a fourth grader?"

"I am not!"

"You're a baby."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"Am not!!"

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? What for?"

"For not realizing sooner." Fukase looked away sheepishly. "And for being a spineless mess of a main character."

Oliver laughed. "I've forgotten already."

Then Oliver gasped. His eye widened and he slapped his hands over his face. "Wait! I can't believe I kissed you!! Oh no, let's never speak of it. I'm gonna die of embarrassment."

It was Fukase's turn to laugh. "I've already forgotten."

Oliver peeked through his fingers and gave a weak grin. Fukase felt a soft affection like a fluffy blanket around his shoulders.

"C'mere, you." Fukase pulled Oliver into a hug.

"Now I understand why I loved you so much," Oliver mumbled into his coat.

"We're like... family...?" Fukase ventured out.

"That's so not it."

Fukase agreed. He couldn't explain it, and neither could Oliver. It wasn't a romantic love, but it wasn't anything that could be called a friendship or a brotherly bond either. It teetered on the edge of something big, and deep, and good, and warm. Something they knew, but couldn't put into words...

Into words that could contain it.

They stayed like that for a while, until Oliver started fidgeting in the embrace and patting Fukase's shoulder like he could tap out. Fukase let go.

"When do you think this chapter's going to end?" Oliver asked. "When it does, the story will end too, and we'll go back to our old lives."

"Are you ready to?" Fukase made a vague motion with his cane. "Leave all this behind?"

The two Vocaloids looked around at all the nothing, all the potential around them.

Fukase couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face as Oliver made a rude gesture into the void.

"Most definitely."

"Then let's end it here."