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Leo’s Memory was cold. The chilly air brushed against Norton’s arms and ankles, his thin and worn clothes did not offer much protection from the harsh weather.
He lowered his head as he headed to the nearest cipher machine. Right now, all he could think of was finding warmth. Unfortunately, he neglected to take note of his surroundings, and heard the click of a camera all too late to realise that he should have hid somewhere before moving.
Well, what’s done is done. In some ways, it was not so bad.
Norton stared blankly at the projection in front of one of the cameras, second-guessing whether he should enter or not. The camera world was the hunter’s, the photographer’s turf, but it also came with it’s fair share of advantages even to a survivor such as himself.
The camera world had no such concept of time, or seasons. In other words, the temperature was strangely constant. Norton decided to take the risk and stepped through the image, entering the black-and-white world that he had experienced many times before.
Just like that, his body gradually stopped trembling, and he allowed himself a moment to compose his breathing. He wiggled his fingers that were previously too stiff. Norton looked around for any sign of the hunter, it seemed like he had found someone’s image on the other side of the map, so he should be safe for now.
He should decode. However, Norton paused before his own reflection, his own mirror image, staring into his blank eyes.
He was perfectly still, perfectly grey and blended in with the surroundings. But he looked awfully lonely, and…
Norton shook his head. What was he thinking, being sentimental over his own self?
But Norton could not tear himself away, and took a few steps towards his reflection.
It was still cold. The air in the camera world always felt particularly stiff and lifeless, but the real world was not much better.
A thought lingered in Norton’s mind. The effects of the camera world would be passed onto the real body, right…?
Then, if he were to provide a bit of warmth to his mirror image, perhaps he could warm himself up in the real world as well, and he would not be so jittery.
It was worth a shot, or he could just be wasting time.
He thought back at a scene he had witnessed not too long ago. The gardener and her father, they were attending one of the manor’s usual parties when he had enveloped his daughter into a tight hug.
When Norton saw that, he thought that it looked warm. It must be nice to have a family.
Norton looked at himself. He did not have much time left before the camera world would dissolve. Hesitantly, he approached the standing figure and awkwardly stretched out his arms. It was unusual. It was not like the other miners did not pat him on the back or sling their arms around him every once in a while, but a hug like this felt more intimate.
It was weird to think that he would be hugging himself. Norton wrapped his arms around the other him, mildly surprised at how… alive, yet not, he felt. It was weird. A really weird feeling.
Norton squeezed tighter. There was no response, but it felt somewhat cathartic. If only the other Norton could return the hug… No, Norton would not let himself think of such sappy thoughts.
He closed his eyes, basking in the sound of his breathing. It almost sounded like it could come from another person.
Then the camera world collapsed without warning, and Norton tumbled to the ground once the figure that he had been gripping onto disappeared. He laid on the snow, watching the puffs of air come out from his mouth. It was cold, but yet, he could feel an unsatisfying ghost of warmth envelope him for a moment.
His heart was beating rapidly. Was he that breathless just from mere physical contact? No, the hunter was heading towards him.
Norton struggled to get up and run away, but his frozen legs gave way, and his body fell towards the photographer.
The hunter’s hands as they grabbed him felt cold too. Norton felt his eyes threatening to close despite his dire situation.
He would… apologise to the others… afterwards…
———
When Norton regained consciousness, he was in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed, draped in a very warm and fluffy blanket that made him not want to get up. One thing was certain, whoever owned this room must be incredibly wealthy.
Norton groggily pushed himself up, trying to process what had happened. He looked to the side and saw the photographer hovering over him with a mild look of concern on his face.
“You’re finally awake. Are you feeling better?”
The hunter… brought him to his room? Norton blinked twice, and nodded.
“...Thank you?”
The photographer, Joseph, scoffed at his confused (insincere) response, and handed him a glass of water. Their fingers briefly grazed against each other, and Norton was surprised to find that the other man was warm.
Norton accepted the glass, assessing the other man’s motive. One could never be too cautious around a hunter.
“Why did you bring me here?”
Joseph raised an eyebrow as he motioned for Norton to drink. “You don’t remember? You suddenly collapsed in the middle of a match.”
He did feel a bit lightheaded when he woke up. Norton frowned and took a sip of water.
“I don’t need your help.”
If Joseph had pupils, he would probably be rolling his eyes right now.
“Is that so, Prospector? You’d rather I strike you when you’re down and make you out to be a burden on your team?”
Norton glared at the hunter.
“That would be a lot better.”
To his surprise, Joseph simply sighed and shook his head.
“Unfortunately for you, I’m not that kind of person.”
Joseph approached him, and Norton recoiled back on instinct. The hunter reached out a hand and Norton closed his eyes. He could feel the other’s palm on his sweaty forehead.
“Hmm, it appears you’re still unwell. You should go back to sleep.”
“What…”
Norton touched his own forehead. His fingers, his whole body felt cold and was shivering slightly, but his head felt… a bit too warm.
…
Did he… catch a cold…?
“I’m fine-“ Norton protested, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.
Then Joseph leaned in, ignoring his stubborn pleas, and wrapped his arms around him. Norton fell silent. It was… incredibly warm. The hunter rested his head in the crook of his neck, and Norton could feel his breathing against his skin. Joseph smiled to himself, satisfied, and let go, gently patting the prospector’s shoulders.
It was a completely different feeling to have someone else embrace him.
“Hush now, go to bed, Prospector.”
It was. Annoyingly. A nice feeling.
And also incredibly embarrassing. How did he end up in the care of a hunter, much less Joseph, of all people?
Joseph tucked Norton into his soft king-sized bed, and he could feel his tired body get sucked into the sheets. He could get used to this kind of thing…
Great, now Norton would be indebted to him. Norton covered his face with the blanket, but Joseph removed it instantly, scolding him.
“You’ll suffocate if you do that.”
Since it was Norton, he actually might, so he begrudgingly let Joseph fold the blanket down so that his head was still exposed, even if he desperately wanted to hide the redness of his cheeks.
The photographer’s features seemed to soften as he took a seat besides him on the bed, stroking Norton’s hair absentmindedly. He had a far-off look in his glassy eyes, as if he were thinking of something, or someone.
“Get well soon, Prospector.”
“...It’s Norton.”
Joseph did not expect such a response from the other man, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Alright. Sleep well, Norton.”
“...Joseph. Thanks. I guess.”
Joseph laughed, and Norton curled up under the sheets in annoyance. So much for trying to show gratitude to this stupid, rich, old man.
“Good night, my dear.” Joseph gave Norton a quick kiss on the forehead, clearly enjoying the survivor’s suffering, and Norton wanted to die.