Chapter Text
Yet another day goes by.
Yet another chilly summer day in Deviltown. Colorful scarves and sweaters were all that could be seen amongst the crowded plaza. Just about anywhere one looked, there were happy families, tired and gruff adults holding mugs of warm coffee, rough-looking teenagers joking around and lightly shoving each other, and gaggles of kids running around, happy high-pitched shrieks filling the air. A teenage boy was among the crowd, sighing as he walked lazily along.
“It's all the same,” he couldn’t help but think to himself. Lately, the days have just been trickling on and on. But that’s nonsense. Sure, it may be a little boring, but boring is good. Boring is stable. Boring means...
“No fun,” his head finished for him. Or was it really his head?
Well. He cherished stability and normalcy more than anything else, so it didn’t matter if it got dull at times. There would always be another surprise when he least expected it anyways. There always was.
That, at the very least, was one of the very sparse constants in his life.
And yet...
The boy can’t help but long for something new and fun to pierce the sluggish boredom of it all.
He shakes his head, attempting to get rid of the stupid thoughts.
No, that’s a Domina thought. Foolish and childlike. And dangerous.
Wrapping his newly bought scarf around his neck, the boy heads home to what he knows is a mountain of paperwork. He curled his lip in annoyance, knowing he was behind due to his last “surprise”. They only ever brought trouble.
Even though he knew that fact, he still heard whispers telling him he should long for something more. No, he wasn’t crazy- he didn’t think so at least. He knew exactly what the voices were. Well, that’s fundamentally incorrect, though he did know on a personal level who they belonged to. There were nine of ‘em, each with their own personality, name, and even a body.
What was ‘fun’ was that he was the only one who could ever see them. As of late, however, that may have changed. He had started to get the sneaking suspicion that his sister was onto him and his colorful brigade of voices. That was fine though, it’s not as if he was really trying to hide them anyways.
The young teenager grew a little frustrated, as he so often did when he thought about his sister. He had found over his years in this body that although his sister may care for him, and that his younger self had cared for her as well, he cannot say the same anymore. It was different now. He wasn’t the same person anymore. He had changed, why couldn’t she see that? Why couldn’t she hate him, so they could drift away, as childhood friends tended to do, and they could get this exhausting relationship over with?
The boy stopped. He knew these were futile questions that he already had the answers to. She needed him to kill her.
The only way he could get rid of her was murder, a predetermined one at that. It is destiny, set in stone, and cannot be stopped no matter how many times he’s reassured her that he wouldn’t do it. They both know he’s lying, but she becomes so relieved afterwards that the boy thinks it’s worth it. Although it may have been a bad idea, as his sister had started making plans for what she would do when she hypothetically reached adulthood.
But oh well, he may as well be supportive. She’ll be a goner in a couple years anyways. At some point many years ago, he had cared for her happiness. Maybe it isn’t true anymore, but he should at least try to be nice. He’s kept her around for twelve years now, waiting two more for the both of them to turn eighteen should be a breeze.
Key word “should”.
With Domina, nothing is simple. She always finds some way to mess things up, raise the stakes, or get herself into some weird, insane, or buck-wild situation by saying the wrong (or right?) things that the boy never even knew were possible.
After all, who in their right mind would tell the parents of a rich and wealthy girl –while crossdressing and pretending to be said other girl’s boyfriend- that she kinda sorta hated their daughter’s guts. While the rich girl’s actual romantic interests and their rich parents are sitting across from you. And then somehow getting recruited to be a part of the fathers’ “underground group” that totally wasn’t a poorly disguised mafia. The reason being some stupid fake name she gave leading them to think she was some famous underground street fighter. So now she freaking works for the rich kid she hates’ father.
It’s like God just ran out of ideas on how to make that already really weird situation even weirder, and randomly threw out a mafia AU for the heck of it. Actually, that’s probably what really did happen, if the boy knew anything about how God works.
He blames it on her Main Character ™ energy.
I mean, blonde hair blue eyes and doesn’t think she could ever get a man? Literally the densest person alive and cannot tell when someone is interested in them despite obvious hints? Who's OC is this?
Though he knows he’s being a total hypocrite here, as he tugs on his own yellow hair. He has purple eyes after all, and that’s not even possible in humans. At least he looked pretty normal as a kid. Well, it’s not as if looks mattered much in Deviltown, mostly just how strong you were, or what family you come from.
Far-off shouting was heard, and the boy sighed once more before continuing home once again. The plaza was still filled with lively conversation, the buzz of market vendors advertising their wares faintly making its way inside the boy's head, but he paid it no heed. Head still filled with thoughts of how annoying life could be, the boy didn’t realize he was actively being called out to until a mittened hand grabbed his own gloved one.
“Hey, Sora!”
Damn it.
The boy knew all too well who this voice belonged to. With the annoying loud bubbliness and silvery tone –albeit a bit breathy, probably due to running– he knew that the very person he’d been previously badmouthing in his head was here.
He reluctantly turned around to face the shorter girl. She let go of his hand and brought both of her own down onto her knees, panting slightly. The girl had long, curly, and bushy blonde hair, with a stupidly big and anime-esque ahoge poking up. It looked unkept and wild, and although the boy told her multiple times to treat it better and maybe actually brush it a bit, no matter what they did her hair would never lie straight, or even flat. Although she was rather petite, her arms were muscled and toned – as is quite normal for the members of Deviltown – not that he could see them at the moment, with her huge fluffy (unnecessary) jacket. Sure it was cold, but not that cold!
Finally, she caught her breath and looked up at him with a tremulous smile and big, bright and excited blue eyes. Although he knew many would describe her as “scary” and “delinquent-y” due to her wild looks, the boy – Sora was his name – always thought she looked rather doe-eyed. Probably because he knew she was too dense and loving to hurt anyone. Pretty soon though, her happy smile gave way to a more concerned expression.
“Hey Sora, what’s up with you? I called you like a hundred times!”
“Ah, sorry Doms, I guess I just didn’t hear ya,” he said, with a plastered-on smile. Domina probably thought it was real though, he bet. She's naïve like that. “What are you doing here? Did you need something?”
“Oh yeah!” The girl exclaimed, thumping a fist against the palm of her hand as though she’d only just remembered, “So, I may have forgotten to tell you earlier that we kinda ran out of cookies?”
“Again?” he sighed, “Didn’t we buy a new pack just a few days ago?”
“Ah well, you know how things are,” Domina sheepishly giggled.
“So you want me to go back and get some more? I was just heading back home...”
“Er, sorry about that. I kinda thought you’d still be shopping for a scarf by the time I came, since you always take forever picking clothes. Guess I made a slight miscalculation. Nice scarf by the way! You always pick the best stuff!”
Sora looked at the ground, muttering a small thanks, but he was still rather annoyed. He knew his sister had quite the sweet tooth, but it was still aggravating that he always had to buy more food. It’s not even for her healing purposes anymore, like it used to be, it’s just become a habit!
There’s no use getting mad now, he told himself, she just does what she wants, whenever she wants.
And she still wins anyways.
It’s so God damn annoying.
His sister was a ditz and acted like a textbook bimbo – clumsy, adoring, caring, and above all, a naïve idiot. But she still somehow always wins out in the end. Somehow, she always gets herself out of whatever wack situation she gets thrown into without any obvious harm coming to her.
“Does she ever learn?” He wants to ask, “Does she act like this on purpose? Is it all scripted? How the hell does she manage to keep that stupidly bright and happy smile all the time? Is it actually just as fake as yours and you’ve been blind to it this whole time?”
Wait. “Yours?” He murmurs aloud. “What?” Domina turns to him.
“Oh, er nothing,” Sora stumbles out, quickly changing the subject “Let’s go get some cookies!”
Domina let out a happy trill, all confusion melting off her face as she skipped ahead. Sora smiles fondly at her as he trails slowly behind, genuinely this time. No matter how bitter he was, seeing his sister light up like a lamp at the mention of sweets never failed to be amusing. He misses the conflicted look that flashes on his sister’s face, before immediately returning to her natural smiling face.
Nevertheless, he catches up, and the two embark on their short trip back to the shops.