Chapter Text
They were children. Teenagers. They were so young, but with no other option than to flee and hide. Their peers were cruel and unaccepting, choosing to hurt, neglect, abandon. Kicking young children to the curb for their peculiar traits. Their only choice left is to run.
Takeda had never been one to hurt others, not even these teenagers rumored to have extraordinary traits unable to be explained by science. He believed that they all deserve kindness, just like everybody else. So when four kids arrived at his mansion’s door, exhausted and in terrible shape, he opened up his home— with the addition of a family, the manor finally came to revel in life, as it was always meant to. Without hesitation, he flung the doors open whenever a kid showed up, a kind smile blooming across his face as he gave them the first warm welcome. As time passed, the house slowly filled itself to the brim with a family making a home in the once empty, lonely halls of Crow Manor.
There are stories of the peculiar children and of their even more peculiar home, the home that they all ran to. The stories say that there is a girl who could stop water as if stopping time, a boy melting into shadows. Kids with unexplained—therefore unwelcome—little oddities that made them so, so unique.
So where does one find one of these unique kids? Well, of course the ordinary cannot hold a candle to them, nor a candle to light the path that they travel down to go home. And what could these children call home, when every other home turned down their very presence? Some say that the Crow Manor lies in plain sight and remains hidden from outside eyes. Some say that it simply doesn’t exist. But of course, it is very much real. You just need to look very closely, find the children with such mysterious, amazing abilities—or be one yourself.
It was a dark and stormy night —no, Takeda rapidly spammed the backspace key until the page was blank once again. He had a strong dislike for starting things with such sentences that didn’t bear much meaning other than a superficially dramatic introduction. Despite that, he had written it anyway, but he wasn’t exactly wrong in regards to the sentence.
It really was a dark and stormy night, in reality. He often found himself awake late past 12 in the morning working on anything and everything, taking up as much time as possible to work and work and work. He worked even when dressed in silk pajamas and walking back and forth into the kitchen in fluffy panda slippers. Tonight was no different, save for the roaring thunderstorm raging outside the window of the manor’s study.
The howling winds served as a great distraction from work—not that he liked it very much. Takeda pried himself off the chair, leaving a dent in the cushion, and headed towards the kitchen for his third mug of scorching coffee (and his third burnt tongue). Just as he took the first sip of coffee, standing blankly on cold, marbled tiles, the doorbell rang. Who in the world could it be at this ungodly hour? The last time that Takeda had checked a clock was thirty minutes ago, and its hour hand was at 2.
Deciding that his brain was just falsifying sounds and was trying to get him to sleep, Takeda ignored it. He padded back to the study—albeit much more cautiously with the anxious gut feeling that the doorbell really did ring and he was going to die creeping up on him—and sat. Then it rang again, and Takeda really didn’t have an excuse to brush it away this time.
Hesitantly, he returned to the main entryway—it was a large manor, and the doorbell had rang again twice on his way there—and peered anxiously through the peephole.
“Please help us,” a faint voice could be heard on the other side. “Is anyone home?”
Their voice was so faint, as the door was made of heavy wood, but Takeda knew instantly it was a child’s voice. Maybe one in their adolescent years, but nevertheless a child ’s voice. He peered through the peephole again for a better glance. As he thought, the voice belonged to a young man with flattened brown hair cropped and sticking to his neck, drenched to the bone. He was shivering so visibly that he might as well have been standing in an earthquake.
Takeda opened the door immediately, his weak arms doing his best to fling the wood open.
“Good heavens, are you okay?!” he exclaimed to the boy—then promptly realized he had companions . Three of them, all as soaked as the one who had cried desperately for his help, kneeling on the steps of the manor’s grand entryway. Two boys and a girl. One boy had silver hair and an ahoge that had flopped and withered. His pale hazel eyes should be gleaming prettily under the sun, but were instead as frozen as the pouring rain around him. Another brown haired boy—this one with longer hair previously tied into a bun but was now a tangled mess. He had chocolate eyes the color of the dirt stuck on his clothes, and was sheltering his two kneeling friends with his broad-shouldered body. The third was a ravenette girl who’s ebony locks were glossy with rainwater and pale skin much paler than it normally should have been. She resembled a ghost with her dark gray eyes drained of energy as she struggled to stay conscious.
All four of them should not be here, drenched and eyes cold with bleak weariness. Nevertheless, he scrambled to usher them in.
“In, in,” he urged, first gently steering in the boy who knocked before turning to the three huddled on the portico. “Come on, come inside!” He helped all three of them stabilize their legs and carefully pushed them in, locking the door the moment they were counted for.
“Please wait here, I’ll fetch some towels,” he told them once they were safely inside. Before he received any confirmation nod or a verbal reply, he dashed off to the nearest bathroom and grabbed as many towels as he could carry. Gosh, it’s been so long since he’s had a workout like this—it was high school when he last ran so fast (but did he ever even run fast in his own youth anyway?).
“Here,” he handed each of his mysterious guests a fluffy towel still warm from the towel rack. “My goodness, it’s quite the thunderstorm you’re braving tonight.”
“Thank you so much sir,” the boy with the gray ahoge stepped forward by just an inch, bowing his head deeply in gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Thank you very much,” the other three echoed tiredly, hastily wiping water from themselves.
“It’s not a problem at all,” Takeda said. “Once you are dried, please find me in the kitchen. Just turn a left down this hallway and you’ll see it. I'll prepare some hot drinks.”
“Thank you,” the four chorused again, this time much quieter.
“You’re very welcome,” he said. “Don’t hesitate to find me, I promise I won't bite.” With another kind smile, Takeda departed to the kitchen.
He never really had use for the hot chocolate packs, as he never had any relatives that liked to drink it—he didn’t have many relatives in the first place, and none of them had ever visited. Now he brewed four steaming cups of the comfort drink for his sudden guests. He slid coasters for each one on the dining table, patiently waiting for them to find him.
Soon enough, they trailed in hesitantly, all close together as they bowed politely in greeting.
“Please have a seat. I hope hot chocolate will be to your liking,” he said, gesturing to said hot drink.
“Hot chocolate sounds perfect,” one murmured, the other three agreeing in quiet murmurs. They sat down across the table from Takeda, albeit reluctantly, and one by one they let their hands cradle the cup. Not until one drank a cautious sip did the others do the same.
“Forgive us for intruding so late at night,” the boy with the close cropped brown hair apologized. “I’m Sawamura Daichi.”
“I’m Sugawara Koushi,” said the gray head. His ahoge was gladly pointing up again.
“I’m Azumane Asahi,” said the taller boy with the brown hair. His messy bun was now let down and tucked behind his ears.
“Shimizu Kiyoko,” said the ravenette. She was quiet, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
“Nice to meet you,” Takeda returned with his own greeting. “I’m Takeda Ittetsu. I work in literature, mainly as a professor and author, but I also translate works between Japanese and English.” He hoped that he seemed friendly enough to at least reassure his guests that he was no threat to them, with his ridiculously large eyebags and all. “If you would be okay with telling me, why were the four of you out in the rain so late at night? And this far out into the suburbs as well?”
The four teenagers looked each other in the eye warily, having a conversion with eye contact alone.
“We have nowhere to go,” Sawamura said at last, lowering his head as if in shame. “We have nothing anymore.”
“You have my protection,” Takeda told them gently. “I won’t pry, you have a right to your privacy. If you would like, you can stay here as long as you need, no strings attached.”
“We couldn’t do that to you, Sensei,” Sugawara denied immediately, profusely shaking his head—a few drops of water flung around. “You’re so generous, we really appreciate it, but none of us would feel right freeloading.”
“Well…” Takeda hummed. “I won’t keep you here against your will, but you must at least stay the night and rest. From the looks of it, you’re all exhausted and need some rest. Plus, it’s storming outside, I’m not sending you out until it’s safe.”
They all reacted the same at the word safe —with a desperate search for relief, dwindling but still alive-and-kicking hope in their eyes. It didn’t go unnoticed by Takeda.
“I-Is it really alright?” Azumane said nervously.
“Of course it is, I’m a very lonely person anyway. If anything, your presence is very comforting in this empty house,” Takeda chuckled sheepishly. “I won’t hurt any of you, so please trust me. I just don’t want to send you out until I know you are at least rested, fed, and dry.”
“You are a very kind person,” Shimizu said, a faint smile ghosting her lips. “We would really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome, children,” Takeda said. “Take your time to finish your drinks. I’ll prepare the bedrooms.”
“Thank you, Takeda-Sensei.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Not a problem at all.”
With an aching back, Takeda slowly stood up from his chair. He smiled gently at the kids. “There should be some fruit and snacks here. If you’re hungry, feel free to take anything to eat. I won’t mind at all.”
Another round of soft ‘thank you‘s chorused from the teens. Although the hesitation of eating from a stranger’s house was written all over their faces, their eyes grazed over the bowl of delicious looking fruit hungrily. Was it just them, or did the peach at the top seem to sparkle gold? A blink, and it was gone.
Takeda took another glance and sighed to himself. These poor children , he thought, leaving the kitchen to prepare the bedrooms. Once he got far enough down the hall to the guest annex, he murmured under his breath, “Manor, will you be so kind as to unlock four of the guest rooms?”
A quiet rumble, like a hum, and the click of four locks were heard in unison. Takeda said his thanks, and went into the first one. To his pleasant surprise, it was already set for one to sleep in. The bed was made and not a speck of dust was seen, and as the door opened, a carpet unrolled itself and settled perfectly at the side of the bed.
“Thank you, manor, you are so kind,” Takeda beamed, patting the wall fondly. Another quiet, rumbling hum. He went to check the rest of the three rooms, finding that the manor had been so gracious as to do the same for all. There was ample space for each child to sleep comfortably with privacy and safety knowing that their friends would be in the rooms next door.
Takeda returned to the kitchen, finding that none of the fruits had been eaten. The hot chocolates were at different levels in each cup, none of them finished, but thankfully some color had already returned to their cheeks. Takeda hoped that they would soon be rosy and plump again, and that smiles would grace those young faces.
“If you would like, you may bring the hot cocoa into your rooms, just down the hall in the guest annex,” Takeda offered. “I’ll be going back to my office to finish some paperwork. Would you be alright finding your rooms, or would you like me to guide you to them?”
“Ah… thank you, but we don’t want to bother you any further,” Sawamura said. “We can find the rooms ourselves.”
“If that’s what you would like,” said Takeda. He stood in the kitchen’s arched entryway and pointed to his right, the side opposite from the foyer. “The guest annex is down this way, just turn right twice. The doors are open, and can lock. Feel free to sleep in and rest for as long as you need.”
“Thank you very much, Sensei.”
“You’re welcome children.”
Takeda waved amiably before disappearing down the hall, and the teenagers finally exhaled in relief the moment his footsteps could no longer be heard.
“He is very kind,” Sawamura said.
“But…” Sugawara said, a warning tone to his voice. He looked around the kitchen wistfully, then sighed again.
“We can’t stay.”
Sugawara eyed the mug of hot cocoa suspiciously. It looked absolutely normal, rich brown in a large white mug. It was comforting, warm, and helped to fight off the cold seeping through his body.
The moment Takeda Sensei had left to prepare the bedrooms and his footsteps couldn’t be heard, Sugawara took a deep breath and spoke.
“I can’t read anything here,” he said quietly.
“Wait what?” Daichi almost choked on his drink.
“What do you mean by that?” Asahi asked worriedly.
“Normally, I can read the history of things easily just by touching a fingertip to something without paying much attention, but even though I’m actively trying, I can’t read anything here,” Sugawara explained. His eyebrows frowned in distrust. “I tried the towels, the wall, and these cups. Not a single one of them.”
“Something is up then,” Kiyoko said. “We can’t stay long.”
“We leave as soon as possible,” Asahi agreed. “This place is getting creepy.”
“A Victorian mansion in the middle of Japan’s countryside? That’s suspicious enough already, but what choice do we have?” Daichi said tiredly. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Yea.”
Footsteps could be heard again, Kiyoko tapping the table twice to signal. She had always had the best hearing, and whenever people came by, she would send a learned sign for them to be quiet. They returned to nursing their cups of hot chocolate, Sugawara taking another tentative sip.
Takeda appeared in the entryway. “If you would like, you may bring the hot cocoa into your rooms, just down the hall in the guest annex,” he offered. “I’ll be going back to my office to finish some paperwork. Would you be alright finding your rooms, or would you like me to guide you to them?”
“Ah… thank you, but we don’t want to bother you any further,” Daichi refused, his voice making it obvious to Sugawara that he was on edge. “We can find the rooms ourselves.”
“If that’s what you would like,” Takeda nodded without seeming irritated at their decision, quite the relief. He stood in the kitchen’s arched entryway and pointed to his right, the side opposite from the foyer. “The guest annex is down this way, just turn right twice. The doors are open, and can lock. Feel free to sleep in and rest for as long as you need.”
“Thank you very much, Sensei.”
“You’re welcome children.”
Takeda left after a wave. Once his footsteps were absent from sound, Daichi spoke.
“He is very kind,” Sawamura said.
“But…” Sugawara said, a warning tone to his voice. He looked around the kitchen wistfully, then sighed again.
“We can’t stay.” Kiyoko finished for him, knowing, understanding what he meant. I want to stay, it’s safe here echoed in each of their minds. What foul luck that the first place that welcomed them was also the one that gave them the worst gut feeling.
“Let’s finish our drinks, wash the cups, and go to sleep,” Asahi yawned, his cup empty save for drops of the liquid cocoa.
Agreement came from the others, a yawn escaping another’s lips. Kiyoko washed her cup first, Daichi taking Sugawara’s cup. He looked quite distraught, the others patting him on the back understandingly. He knew that it wasn’t something wrong with his ability, but being blocked from something felt so strange . It felt unnatural , like he was suddenly not who he was anymore. The one time he was like a “normal” human, it felt so uncomfortable… Who was he, without his retrocognition?
“Thanks,” he muttered, glancing at his hands. He lightly slapped his face, then followed his friends down the hall.
“Two rights, and the doors should be open,” Daichi said out loud, repeating what Takeda had said. “Here we are…? Huh?”
Daichi stopped in place all of a sudden, Asahi bumping into him. “What’s wrong, Daichi?”
“The paintings on the wall,” he said, pointing at a painting. “The scenery is of us .”
“What? Wait, it changed!” Asahi burst into a panic, realizing the same thing that Daichi had seen. He blinked again, and the painting showed a closer look of the hall they stood in… with themselves getting larger.
“It changes when you blink,” Shimizu figured it out quickly, now straining to keep her eyes open. “Don’t blink, or else it gets closer.”
“Something is following us, but what?” Sugawara said, voice laced with worry and terror as he joined them in forcing his eyes open. “There’s nothing there!”
“No way we’re sticking around to find out, get in!” Daichi ushered open the closet door, dragging Asahi in by the wrist. Kiyoko and Sugawara rushed in after, Daichi shutting and locking the door tight. They collapsed on the floor after that brief rush, a messy heap of limbs as they fell onto and over each other.
“Where… are we?” a meek mumble came from Asahi as he settled himself into a corner, knees up to form a shield. He went unanswered, not that he expected one anyway. Upon closer look, the bedroom they had seen through the opening of the door earlier was not the same as how it looked now. The bed was on the opposite side of the symmetrical room with a different color bedding, the curtains were drawn open instead of closed, and there was now a fluffy carpet where the wooden floors had once been bare. Kiyoko ghosted a hand along the carpet’s fluff upon realization that the carpet had only just appeared.
“Do you think Sensei has a gift too?” she said softly. All heads turned to her slowly, eyes widening with growing fear. That was a possibility that none of them had ever considered until now, one that they should have considered the moment Sensei had said he would let them stay the night. No matter how genuine one’s kindness may seem, a stranger’s kindness can be the deadliest weapon if kindness is in the wrong hands. They definitely didn’t need anymore of that.
“What kind of gift could it be, to follow us and change the scenery in the paintings,” Sugawara said. “Maybe it’s not a gift and we’re hallucinating.”
“Who knows.”
A hush fell over them for a moment, and then, slowly, Daichi tapped Kiyoko’s knee and pointed wearily to the bed. A nod, some shuffling, and quiet yawns fluttered through the room—none of them heard the low hums reverberating almost silently, the four of them choosing to simply let themselves drift into much needed rest. Kiyoko slumped onto the bed without care, letting her hand fall off the edge and brush across the top of Asahi’s tangled hair as he leaned against the bedside. Sugawara’s fingers intertwined with Asahi’s and his legs lay lazily over Daichi’s lap, whose head was on Asahi’s shoulder. They slowly settled their intertwining limbs into comfortable positions, and with a final shuffle of blankets, they fell heavily into sleep.