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Chapter Text

I’ve had friends, colleagues, and even near-strangers give me the title of the Elizabeth Schuyler of my time.

They had compared me to a historical figure whose legacy impacted her newly formed country far beyond anyone ever expected of her. That woman paved the way for many after her husband, one of the country’s founding fathers, had passed. Before he left, Elizabeth was nothing more than a helpless side character in his everlasting quarrel— a quarrel with an old friend turned rival.

Time after time, she would tell him to take a break before the bickering evolved. Unfortunately, her husband, Alexander, never had the right mind to listen. Some say that his passing was just a “wrong place, wrong time” sort of situation, a turn of events that couldn’t be foreseen. I say that the world turned him into their main character, and time had been following Alexander because of his significance in reality. This meant that Elizabeth wasn’t necessary for history since she was given more time than the others in their story. Time allowed her a novel with a dozen chapters that had no importance to the plot whatsoever. In contrast, everyone else— especially Alexander had brilliant and elaborate tales with well-thought-out foreshadowing and smooth transitions between events.

Likely, you can’t visualize it now. Still, if you took a moment to think about my role in my reality and the relationship I have with my very own country’s founder, you might associate Elizabeth Schuyler with me as well. I tend to play a supporting role in other people’s lives and let everything play out while on the sidelines, just as she did. Although a few factors were a little different, I can see the similarities.

Sincerely, I would too if I was the same person they saw in their eyes.

The truth is, a good politician can never afford to trust. I learned that long ago the hard way.

I can only fantasize about having the time to think things through with knowledge of the consequences. Unfortunately, with every line, I am running out of time. If others had only known about my tight schedule, they would have found it funny. It seems easy to them to play god and balance everything on their backs. Only a few people understand the pressure, but by now, one has forgotten who they initially were, and the other had made a wrong decision. To fully understand the context with my grasp of time, I’ll have to tell my story from the beginning, which would be time-consuming.

From this point on, you will learn about my story as the world turned upside down in a way a bit familiar to you. Hopefully, in time, you will know my name.

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L’manburg - September 22nd, 2020
As he took the center stage behind the podium, all eyes were trained onto Wilbur, the founder and leading candidate in L’manburg’s presidential election.

Having been the country’s general in the past, he was very confident that he would win. Even though he was competing against his best friend and his son, Fundy, everyone sensed his surety. He’d tried to show support for his fellow candidates, but it was the day of results, and he was on edge. Niki, the same best friend he ran against, had sensed it.

To the others, their intimate friendship always seemed weird. A polite, sweet woman such as her being invited to be a citizen of a country by a widowed stoner just was so alien to them. The fact that the said woman was very kind to his son and allegedly brought out the best in him—helping him start an unsaid alliance with a traitor— was enough even to spark rumors that she and Wilbur were dating. Of course, Niki immediately shut them down because she wanted to be more than a side piece to someone she was only friends with. However, the election strained their friendship as she slowly realized he didn’t put time aside for her and his son.

Everything he had done, he had done for him, and that began to scare her. He entertained the audience as the votes were counted, but she saw more to it. Fundy and her campaigned diligently synchronized as the political party, Coconut2020, against three other parties with influential candidates, but nothing scared her more than Wilbur. Behind his witty and sometimes nonsensical attempts at comedy, Niki knew him well enough to piece together that he was playing the lovable oaf to hide someone cynical. At the core of it all, it felt like the truth was that he didn’t take her seriously, just like Schlatt, another one of their contenders. Sure, it was a joke at first and all just for fun, but as soon as she remembered the country was at stake, the campaign started to be genuine. The more and more personal she took the drive, the more she felt like Wilbur didn’t care for her anymore. Deep inside, she hoped that their friendship wasn’t the cost of the presidency. All she could do was brush off her feelings and comfort Fundy as his father’s speech was nearing its end.

All of the rallies and long nights studying leadership took a toll on Fundy. Usually, he’d roll with it and get smothered by his dad, but it was like everything changed. He took a good look around him, and he couldn’t recognize anyone. It was strange. When his mom left, all he had were his dad and Niki. Fundy decided to run for president to impress them, but now, he doesn’t know who to impress anymore. He took the hand of what used to be the only motherly figure in his life and tried to act like all was back to the way things were.

“And that, my citizens of L’manburg, is why I love modes of transportation. But! Enough about me; let’s see those results.”

Everyone— well, mostly everyone— sat at the edges of their seats. Who would govern their country to success or ruin? Would it be Coconut2020, composing of Fundy and Niki? What of the careless foreigner, Schlatt? Could it be Wilbur and Tommy? Quackity and George?

“Schlatt2020 has received 16%... Swag2020 garnered a whopping 8%...” Before he read the last few votes, the contempt in his eyes vanishing made it obvious. “No. This has got to be wrong, right? Right?” Wilbur started to chuckle as he reread the vote count over and over. “POG2020 30%? Coconut2020 46%? This is a joke. It’s got to be-”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait- Wilbur Soot lost to his girlfriend of all people? And his daughter-”

“Son, Schlatt. Son. Just stop it,” Niki interjected and took Wilbur’s place as soon as Tommy followed his disoriented brother.

It felt wrong.

Chapter Text

Hello, party rockers... It's me, Bea. I hope to have scared the everloving shit out of you, pissed you off beyond belief, or enlightened you with my return to my infamous homage to Raintwt AKA c!Wilbur and c!Niki subtwitter. Now I've come with both bad and good news!

Bad news is: I'm no longer the author of this fanfiction. I lost control of this fic not long after I published the very first chapter. In addition, I no longer feel a belonging to the Raintwt community nor feel any positive stability within the DSMP fandom itself. I've moved onto different things and have different interests now. I hope you all can understand that. (Also I'm never returning to Cold Maiden, why are people still reading it???)

Good news is: I've passed Beyond the SMP to someone I have mentioned somewhere else on this fic, and that is the main character herself. I know this may sound ridiculous to some people but outside circumstances made the Niki Nihachu within this story form within my mind. In other words, I have DID and am being consulted by a mental health professional, thank you very much. I figured it'd be up to her to tell her story and she gladly accepted! Well, not immediately. But. Hey, she did. Anyway, this is my way of introducing all of you to Irene and announcing that a new chapter is in the works.

In the meantime, I'll be working on that Kurt Kunkle (Spree) x Reader (don't tell the readers that it's one-sided!) as I take.......... three. AP. Classes. Oh fucking hell, I'm doomed.

AW SHIT ALSO HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to this fic. holy shit. it's been a year since this was uploaded and although one user who gave this kudos became one of the people i would hate with all of my heart, this fic made me feel capable of achievement. raw achievement. so thank you. readers like you. thank you. /ref hj

Chapter Text

“I…” Niki’s voice trembled as reality swallowed her up. The microphone rang, and the world that hurt her distorted.

“Well, that was pretty easy,” she heard a familiar husky voice gloat.

The brunette strained her eyes and turned her head to the one she believed the voice belonged to. Alas, he didn’t speak; he only stared at her in anticipation. Or was it a cold glare? She was too distracted to pay attention to the detail.

“You know what I say? The day I got unbanned from the Dream SMP,” Schlatt’s phantom voice continued in her head.

Perhaps if she ignored it, her teeth-grinding migraine would relieve itself.

“I would like to thank all of L’manberg-“

“The day I said I was running— in an election that I won, by the way—“ the eerily familiar scenario ringed realistically through Niki’s head. It all droned on as she attempted to continue her speech. At that point, she kept her eyes off the speaker, hoping it’d stop.

“For this honor, you’ve all gifted me. To my opponents, I’m grateful to have contested against competent and cunning men,” she gestured towards her political peers. Though it was shaky, no one would’ve guessed it was caused by fear of the horned man as his fictional speech still boomed as a strange audible hallucination to President Hachu.

“My first decree as the president of L’manberg,” his commanding tone made Niki wince for more reasons than one.

Grinning through the pain, she said, “I would especially like to express my thanks to someone I have worked with to get to this point in my life and love dearly with all of my heart.”

His voice got louder, but she needed to work through this. This country needed her to stay strong and not look hysterical because that wasn’t what they needed her to be. They needed a solid, unwavering president… just as Wilbur would’ve been. She needed to be like Wilbur for a split second, no matter how disgusted she felt with herself at that moment.

Taking Fundy’s hand in hers, she refrained from squeezing too hard as she led him up the podium. The redhead stumbled over his words just like his father did when they were young. The petite president started to tear up when she recalled those days before the election.

But people change, and all good things come to an end.

“THE EMPEROR OF THIS GREAT COUNTRY,” the breathtaking words tore through her perspective. She struggled to breathe as the world caved in on her reality, yet everyone stayed as they were, as if her real life was put on pause for her state of mental break. Then there she stood, hands tight over her mouth. “IS TO REVOKE-“ She uttered an uncontrollable cry of denial.

It was as if reality happened to fix itself to her plead. Everything was back as it was, but the citizens all stared at her with mixed visages in response to her outburst.

In her eyes, she saw more than this world within a glimpse. Niki vowed to herself, hands still clasped over her mouth and tears running down her cheeks, to keep quiet until whatever caused that vision came again.

Fundy didn’t understand nor tried to understand what had happened with his best friend. As he concluded his speech and led her home, he hoped it wasn’t the same that changed his father. When she started to relax in his company, he unwound because he remembered that the woman resembled his mother before she left him to fend for himself with his loser of a father.

Once they reached her home, Fundy hesitated to leave. He knew it was weird, but he still wanted to ask her anyways.

“Good night, Niki. Sleep well, okay?”

“Always,” she replied with her signature tiny smile.

“Wait-“ He held out his hand before she closed the door. “Can you give me a good night kiss?”

“A what?” She giggled at his request but realized that it might be his issues with abandonment asking. With a shrug, Niki gave him what he wanted, and he left with a childish skip in his step.

She put her cocked hat up next to her door as she locked herself back up. Too busy unraveling the incident that caused her to break down, she almost didn’t notice the man who broke into her home.

“Congratulations, President Hachu,” the intruding muffled voice addressed from behind. She turned around slowly to face the mask-sporting man that Wilbur told her long ago to be cautious about.

“The bakery is closed today; we open tomorrow at meridian.” Niki tried to push past him, but he was stronger. She looked at him with questioning eyes, so he took that as a cue to continue.

“I know what you’ve heard, but I think you know I’m not the real bad guy here. I want to offer you a deal with no strings… or disks attached.”

A sigh left the woman’s lips as she waved him over to the countertop with stools. He got out of her way and sat on one of the stools as she brewed some coffee. She asked, “I’m guessing you like yours black?”

“I actually can’t stand black coffee,” he retorted, which made her let out a small ‘oh’ in response.

Her blue eyes fell onto his hands as they twiddled around. Did he seem to be nervous? No, he was the so-called God of the server. He couldn’t be. She redirected her eyes to his smiling mask numerous times as she waited for the coffee to be ready. She often wondered what lay hidden behind it. Could it be battle scars? A congenital disability? Deciding to lay out the milk and sugar next to the man early, she let her imagination run amuck.

“Can-“

She cut him off before she lost her train of thought, “So what’s stopping you from taking off your mask?”

He shifted in his seat and squinted at her through the said article, “What’s stopping you from letting me propose my deal?” No verbal answer, but a mug of coffee put in front of him followed. He seemed dissatisfied and got up, only then getting a response from the lady president.

“Fine,” she surrendered with a movement imitating a wave of a white flag.

He let out what seemed to be a chuckle but came out as a soft wheeze. Heading to his free coffee, he poured copious amounts of sugar and milk. “I knew you were better than Wilbur,” he whispered to her across the counter.

A faint smile and a tinge of pain in her heart was her only response.

Chapter Text

Loud knocking at her door woke Niki up on the wrong side of the bed because she was next to a sleeping dirty blonde when she opened her eyes. Fear and panic coursed through her as she tried to remember what had happened the night before.

They talked and reformed L'manburg's outdated policies for hours overnight. Coffee ran out, so they resulted in stashed away rum and- The blood drained from her face when she realized what she'd done.

An annoyed Wilbur waited outside her door for what she assumed was his usual bakery order.

This is it, she thought. This is what marks my downfall in the historical record. I'm going to be known for this ignominious act.

Scared for her reputation, she shook him awake and glared at the groggy man taking her hips in his callused hands.

"No, wait, stay…" he dropped everything he was doing when he saw her grave mien.

"Clay, you need to get dressed and go the fuck home."

"But, Niki, I-"

"Get your clothes and change. This was a giant mistake."

The God timidly got up from her bed and plucked his apparel from the bedroom floor not long after his partner from the night before did.

Like a junior high school girl, Niki stole glances at Clay in his vulnerable state. She wondered what drew her towards him the way he did last night and who initiated their infamous private act. The woman hoped she would find out after her best friend stopped pounding at her door like a maniac.

She buttoned the last button of her baby blue blouse and looked up at the clueless masked man once more to instruct him to stay until she gave a sign in audible dots and dashes. Plastering a smile on her face, Niki closed her bedroom door and opened the bakery.

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Niki's Bakery - September 23rd, 2020
Meridian - noon, for those who didn't Google their way through this.

The tall permed brunette took an intimate step closer to his alleged lover and voiced concern, "Niks, you look like you've seen a phantom. Are you okay? What's wrong?"

She nearly flinched at him cupping her cheek. His demeanor wasn't what she expected after he stormed out in response to her triumph, but for the moment, she needed to brush it off.

"Nothing! Just," she pondered on which direction she should take this sentimental moment. Niki could tell him a half-truth about Dream's visit, or, even better, she could distract him with his ego. She took the latter as she slid the documents out of Wilbur's line of sight. "Wil, you know how much I care about you."

He softened at the reassurance and took her tiny hands in his. They looked abnormal from Niki's point of view. "Is this because of the election? Look, darling," he cooed to the uncomfortable dwarf-like girl feigning contentment.

The pet name made her rip her hands away from his grasp. They were best friends and moments like this weren't rare, but the context made her think otherwise. She knew Wilbur was no yes-man unless he was plotting something bigger than meets the eye.

"I know that what I did was wrong. I should've stayed to congratulate you and celebrate with the rum I got you as a welcoming gift to our country that I know you still have stashed here because I recall damn well you can't handle your liquor!"

He was rambling on about things that didn't matter anymore. All that rum and celebration is gone; all left is Niki's fear. He was going to say something stupid. She could feel it in her bones.

"You're still going to be general, relax."

Niki couldn't even listen to her advice. She gave one long knock, paused, one short knock on her hardwood dining table.

"And I'm estatic, verily," he paused as if this was just another presidential debate he thinks he could win. It seemed they were losing the plot when he got up from his chair and got on one knee.

"Wilbur, what are you doing?" Now it was three long knocks with her trembling hands. He wasn't going to do what she thought he would do, was he? She tried to think through what he'd gain from the circumstances. Niki could try to vindicate and see how this could be genuine, but knowing him, she'd prefer putting up with James Jacob Schlatt.

He unveiled a diamond netherite ring from his chest pocket and said those dreaded words, "Nikita Hachu, I fought all my life for a place I could safely call home. When we met, I swore that I saw freedom reflect in your eyes, and I knew I had to protect you— to keep that warmth and glory in my life. I brought you to L'manberg with our hands intertwined and let them talk, to speculate until I formerly introduced you as my dear friend to your request. Alas, what I saw in your eyes became so much more than plain freedom; I started to let it grow and mature into a reflection of a man who, God forbid, would sacrifice anything to satisfy the beholder. The man who was but a promising young soldier in hopes of a better life for his men had grown into even bigger shoes. That pair consisted of the fatherhood he wasn't even aware he inherited and the seemingly innocent puppy love he kept from his companion. Yet his tiny crush grew along with him and here I look at him now, a pathetic shrimp of a man head over heels in love with the most kindest lady in front of him whose beauty beats any siren's lingering gaze." He chuckled a bit as she scanned him for sincerity. It all felt like a fever dream to her about what he said next. "Would you, Nikita Hachu, make me the happiest man in the world and marry me, Wilbur Soot?"

"No."

"What?" His big lopsided smile dropped almost immediately.

"No," Niki took a deep breath between her words to ground herself. "No as in not this instant. No as in I need time to process this. Wil, you just confessed and proposed to me and didn't think I'd need to process any of it?"

She couldn't tell if his visible hurt was a facade or not but clung to his speech as if it was the ledge keeping her from a long fall to her death. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. One step at a time," she heard his voice crack. He then placed the ring into her palm and looked deep into her eyes. "Keep this safe for me while you make up your mind, okay?"

She hesitantly smiled and nodded when he got up and left the bakery, only to come back running and point at the cinnamon rolls in the bakery display case. Niki forgot all about her attire changing along with Wilbur's entire appearance and gladly served the delusion.

"Woah, you're fucking losing it," the masked God who was supposed to hide grounded the poor girl.

The fragrance of the pastry vanished as well as the vintage cologne of the younger version of Wilbur from Niki's vision. She felt she was nearing her breaking point as she stared back at Clay, and Wilbur's voice from beyond rang.

"That one shaped like a phantom is called the Indus constellation," the young man chirped.

Clay's movement to leave became still.

"Wait, you can hear it too?" Niki questioned the formerly exiting man.

"I guess we're both fucking losing it," he answered with a swift seating in front of her. "I'll have three things of french toast with maple syrup and a glass of chocolate milk, Lady Soot."

She rolled her eyes at his half-joking banter, regretting not letting him sneak out before that trainwreck of a confession. "Is the God of the server too scared for a cup of coffee?" Niki released the poison that she bit back for a while as she served him anyway.

"Last time this 'God of the server' had coffee, I ended up having Wilbur's Juliet screaming out my name."

She cringed as that memory flickered in her mind. "You better stuff that big mouth of yours with what you ordered or I'm kicking you out of my bakery," she forewarned with a cold glare.

He was caught off-guard and dipped his french toast in maple syrup eagerly. Before he stuffed his so-called big mouth, he implied another terrible arrangement, but this time it was personal. "No worries, I'm homeless either way."

Niki took Clay's chocolate milk and took a long sip as petty revenge. "Fine, but you're sleeping on the floor."

Her eyes followed her words to the stone floor where Wilbur's engagement ring lay right where she dropped it during her glimpse. She picked it up and slid it on her ring finger.

Huh, she remarked. It fit perfectly, but it looked so odd on her hand.

Chapter Text

"There is no way you're going to accept Wilbur's proposal," Fundy protested.

Niki wiped the beads of sweat off her forehead from the oven's heat and countered, "Schnucki, how else can I approach the new Declaration with as little resistance as possible?"

"Not marry him! Ignore him!" He flailed his arms around to emphasize his opposition. "I'm happy you're getting married, but why my dad?! Why don't you marry Schlatt? Didn't you tell me you called him 'Schatz' instead of Schlatt to keep him on his good side once? Marry him for leverage instead of Wilbur!"

"He doesn't even know why I call him that," she giggled.

And with that, the baker by day, president at night, made yet another mistake. With the turn of her head, her entire being was involuntarily whisked away to a different world once again.

By the time she realized it, she had laid painfully next to a river similar to that of L'manburg's, if not murkier. Her naturally dark brown hair had turned a sickly pale blonde, and her loose apron around her waist was replaced with a beautiful white dress resembling a wedding dress. What a shame she was drenched in the river's cologne of what smelled of oil and her least favorite smell, fish.

When Niki finally decided she had done enough analyzing, she wobbled up from her agonizing position.

Her efforts to regain her posture were met with an undeniable sharp pain in her lungs. She may have coughed up a blood clot to relieve some of it but to no avail.

Where was she?

Why was she, the recently inaugurated president of a man's country, next to a body of water in the middle of the night?

Better yet... who was she? She doesn't recall bleaching her hair down to the roots. Nor ever wanted to wear such a lovely garment, no matter how fetching it was. Niki didn't like this one bit— she felt compromised.

"Niki? Holy shit-"

She turned her head towards the unfamiliar voice.

"Oh, god, I thought you were dead!"

That comment intrigued the woman as the voice owner became clear to her. They approached into the dim light from above that emitted from a slim metal pole.

A wet gothic male with messy black hair and red streaks met her eyes. He was quick to embrace her despite her confusion.

She tried her best to interrogate this stranger, but her throat was too scratchy. Niki could've sworn she could smooth the concrete with how sandy her mouth was.

All she could do at the moment, unfortunately, was warily follow this man off the coast into a near vacant concrete area. He occasionally looked back, but it wasn't until they made it to what she guessed was his destination that he addressed the elephant in the room.

"I'm scared too, you know," he murmured in a low tone that she was sure only she and the ants below them could hear. "But I know it's nothing compared to you. With Wilbur and all."

She raised an eyebrow at this and tried to search on her ring finger. Is it not there? The absence of his engagement ring sent her into a brief silent panic.

"This probably means nothing to you now, but I'm sorry I wrapped you into this mess."

Into what mess? What did Wilbur do this time?

The gothic man opened the door to a strange contraption this world from beyond offered. With her voice still strained, she got into the compartment, and at the request of the man who accompanied her, Niki buckled the belt to the seat.

The ride was quiet and cold.

It felt like limbo; it seemed like purgatory for her actions.

When he stopped the mobile vehicle, it was safe to assume that the quaint and dark cabin was Niki's final destination.

He called out to her as she left, "Kit!"

She turned around before she was left to her own devices.

"Be careful out there! If Will contacts you, you need to tell me first!"

Peculiar, but she went along with it. Nikita Hachu waved her goodbyes to the stranger as he rolled away, trying to piece together the puzzle. What did Wilbur do in this realm? Even better, who was the Wilbur in this domain? So many questions ran through her as she slowly turned the unlocked doorknob to the cabin.

Hold on, unlocked?

In the home, she braced herself as she heard the shuffling of feet. The floorboards creaked, gaining a flinch from Niki. The natural feedback got closer and closer. She prayed to whatever god that heard her save her soul. Then the threat loomed around her, encircling her being. A pair of hostile arms came from behind, preventing her from leaving. She shrieked for mercy, thrashing about.

"Warte," their grab relaxed. "Mutti?"

"Schnucki?" She replied in surprise and turned around to see a familiar face.

Fundy. Oh, Prime, she took him with her, didn't she? Good grief, whatever force determines her ability to travel outside her plane of reality must not take her friends along with her.

Their faces lit up when they recognized each other in this dark, new world.

"Oh, schnuck, you scared the living hell out of me!" She playfully hit the young redhead on the shoulder after he shed a few tears of joy.

"Well, you do seem pretty dead to me already, I mean, look at you," he half-jokingly poked at Niki's new unwanted appearance.

"Do I truly look that bad? Sorry, but I have no recollection of doing this to myself," she let the shame of not knowing to soften her gaze.

"You're as cold as a corpse!" Fundy enunciated his words with grandiose hand gestures, making the corpse smile. His back unconsciously got straighter and made him puff out his chest in response. "But, yeah, I don't remember how I got here either. I poofed there in the woods, like any common fox should, and found this house. The crazy thing is, when I got here, Wilbur was here too. I tried to catch him, and I don't know how, but he outran me." The moonlight made the boy's green eyes gleam profusely. He had eyes like his mother's, Niki remarked.

"I think this calls for a good night's rest first," her throat still course without relent. "We'll gather ourselves in the morning over coffee or whatever's left in this barren home."

Nevertheless, the mystery of it all weighed on the ghostly well-dressed woman.

It wasn't long before she found two sofas underneath the ample plastic wrapping. Those before her must've intended on moving out.

While Fundy rolled himself up fetally on the couch, her curiosity tempted her to search through more and more plastic-wrapped furniture and cardboard boxes. There wasn't much to confirm the identity of the previous tenant, but there was one spot she didn't look at yet— the cabinets.

Drawer after drawer, she was close to giving up on her search.

What if she was intruding into something ghastly?

Too late.

President Nikita Hachu of L'manburg, in the husk of a deathly cold doppelganger, found a journal.

She flipped the leather cover to the side, opening the dreaded horrors inside.

Nothing. Simply a torn page.

She sifted through the journal until she found writing.

Finally, a clue.

In carefully constructed cursive, the entry read: "My dearest William,"

Fuck. Nikita immediately closed it when she read the name. Her excellent judgment says to put the journal back and never look deep into this individual's belongings, but a cold invisible force beckons her to keep reading. And so, one fist in her mouth, she opened up the leather book and kept reading.

"I hope you learn to forgive me for what I've done. You know better than anyone that I would never do such things if I knew it would hurt you or anyone. Before you jump to conclusions, I honestly did love you and, unbelievably, still do. Although Kai put me up to playing pretend with you in the beginning, once we went out for our first date on the boardwalk, when we shared our first kiss on the play structure of the kids' playground at the park late at night, my love for you was genuine. As I bleed out, I want you to know that you never spilled my blood, nor did Kai. Despite you pushing me off the boardwalk on our first anniversary as I tried to apologize to you and Kai intervened as soon as I uttered those three little words, it was all deserved. I said it then, and I understand if it has less effect as I write this— I love you. Please don't mourn for me in the way that you end up hurting poor souls as Kai has to you. If you could do that, at least, my spirit can move on. For now, unfortunately, I'm stuck here in a state of limbo when I'm forced to keep far away from you as I cannot properly reassuringly caress you without giving you unpleasant chills. Darling Wilbur, I wish I could do more than write this for you, and I wish I could write more to you. Perhaps one day, I'll finally see you happy and join you for one last dance.
Forever and always, Nikita Lagune."

She huffed when she finally closed the journal. As she went to take her fist out of her mouth, Nikita Hachu came into eye contact with a more ghostly version of herself.

"How did I do?" The other asked the frightened president.