Chapter Text
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i.
Jack is fourteen physical years old and he is alone.
Jack has a hundred years of wandering and he is still alone.
His only company beyond the Wind is the being made out of hostile shadows and fears of black tar.
Jack kicks his feet from his place on the tree branch. They don't always have conversations, indeed, most of the time, the molten gold eyes stalk him in the shadows, ravenous for a slip.
Jack doesn't mind.
He prefers the silent but physical company to the overwhelming loneliness he feels every day.
ii.
Jack has a hundred and one years of wandering in solitude when he decides to do something.
He calls Wind and she comes eagerly to help him.
"Wind," he whispers, determined. "Ride me."
And she complies.
It is the beginning of the end, or perhaps, the beginning of something better.
Jack is about to find out.
(The molten gold eyes stalk him in the shadows, curious.)
iii.
Hours and hours later, Jack finally arrives in some kind of frozen wasteland, completely empty.
It's frustrating, really. It's as if he's returning to the same place he left.
Unwillingly, tears begin to trickle down his face, but as always, they freeze as soon as they come, leaving his skin numb.
Although Jack is always numb, crying is different somehow. He knows that for people made of flesh and blood it is similar. The only difference is that when they tremble so much from crying, warm hugs from others often help.
Jack has never felt anything warm, the only thing he can compare with the definition of that feeling are Phil the Yeti's arms when he drags him out of Santa Claus workshop. Or when Wind tries to comfort him, disembodied as she is. It lifts his spirits and generally makes him as emotional as the dreamy sand dolphins.
The tears are barely ceasing to fall when Wind tugs gently at him, guiding him somewhere unknown to him.
"...Wind?" He asks, inquisitive and nervous in equal parts. But not fearful.
He knows that Wind would never, ever take him anywhere she considers the slightest bit dangerous.
So he lets himself be carried away.
iv.
It isn't long before Jack realizes where Wind is taking him. Not because he knows the place itself, but because he recognizes what kind of place it is.
A bar.
And it's not just a bar full of people, no.
It's a bar of spirits.
And Jack allows himself to laugh in relief.
v.
He walks in without making a sound, but even if he had, he thinks, no, he knows , no one would have turned around.
Jack is used to it anyway. But not being quiet is what earned him the screams from '69.
(Jack doesn't like screams. They're scary. He doesn't know why, you'd think that since no one talks to him, even screams are welcome, but they're not.
There's an itch in his skin that spreads from his brain and warns him to run, that screaming equals danger and that he's not safe.
So while he can, he likes to avoid them.
Even if the being made out of hostile shadows and fears of black tar enjoys it.)
Besides, Jack was always light on his feet, so it isn't a problem for him.
However, he underestimated the hearing and perception of some of the spirits, who turned their heads towards him curiously.
Jack's movements stuttered as he hesitated in the doorway, arms still, feet ready to dart and the name Wind on the tip of his tongue.
Yet just as quickly as they turned their heads, just as quickly they turned them back, returning to whatever it was they were doing before.
Jack is quite disappointed to be honest. No matter if they are human or spirit, it's always the same. So just like them, as fast as he went in, so fast he tries to leave.
Only to be stopped by a thin, pale hand on his arm.
" Tsurara-onna, " whispers the yokai, introducing herself. Or so Jack assumes.
"Jack Frost..."
A look of surprise assaults the icy coal almond eyes. The hand squeezes tighter, as if she doesn't want to let go.
" Winter child ," she murmurs. " Stay ."
And Jack obeys.
And this becomes his normality.
vi.
The first observation Jack makes is the fact that there are no spirits who present themselves in a childlike manner as he does.
Maybe that's why at first he only received sidelong glances and frowns thrown in his direction.
As if his appearance there was not the norm, but the exception.
One of the older looking spirits, Nane Sarma, always mutters the same thing when Jack is within earshot.
"You foolish child."
Jack ignores her, after all, she always ends up passed out on the bar. So if anyone is a fool in this situation, it's her.
So he does his best to ignore her, after all, almost everyone is used to his presence.
Even Babaroga , of all spirits, usually gives him a small smile whenever she sees him out of the corner of her eye.
The spirit who tends bar, who calls himself "Ninkasi", hands out drinks and shots, and adds a splash of fruity alcohol to his glass of water, (much to Nane Sarma's chagrin and Tsurara-onna's amazement) every time he manages to make a spirit laugh.
And isn't that what Jack always wanted— to make people laugh! And being recognized for that is a bonus he really loves.
(Maybe that's why the gentle words of some spirits managed to convince him to come more often.
And to do other things he's sure he wouldn't have done otherwise.
But that comes much later.)
vii.
The first time someone asks him for something that leaves Jack slightly confused is when Tsurara-onna, who had been watching him all night with haunted eyes, asks him to dance with her.
" I'm so lonely… " She cries, from time to time, her eyes focused on a half-empty glass of alcohol. " I can't help disappearing in the spring, but it's so little time... how can they not wait for me? Am I not enough, perhaps?"
And Jack understands, somehow, not being enough for anyone to stay.
So if he has to dance with her to get a smile out of her, he will.
viii.
"Hedyoinos " the Satyr introduces himself, human face and goat legs, horns of the color of joy at the mischief he enjoys causing.
"Sweet wine?"
" Sweet wine, Snowflake. Appropriate, don't you think?"
Jack lets out a chuckle, delighted—no one's ever given him a nickname before! Jack is ecstatic.
"Snowflake. It's charming, if you ask me."
Jack thinks so too.
Maybe that's why he complies when Hedyoinos asks him for a kiss on the cheek.
"Am I as sweet as wine?"
Jack doesn't know what wine tastes like, but he lets out a giggle.
Behind his back, Ninkasi frowns, his hand clenching tightly on the glass he's filling for Nane Sarma, who clicks her tongue, disgruntled.
"You foolish child." She mutters, as always, and as always, but silently, Ninkasi agrees.
He is a foolish child, but so are these spirits, if they think they can get away with this for so long.
(It's a pity, Ninkasi thinks years later, that they actually did.)
ix.
This is Jack's routine these days;
He plays with human children, plays pranks on the adults, has his morning chat with any mini tooth fairy he sees and plays with small spirit animals.
Sometimes, the being made out of hostile shadows and fears of black tar watches him from afar. It's as if lately he has decided to keep his distance from him, which hurts quite a bit.
(In a way, Jack can tell that it burns his soul until he can taste nothing but ashes, because he is burning from the inside.)
Then, when night falls and the children and adults return to their homes, when the mini tooth fairies are busier than ever, and when even the little spirit animals of the forest are swallowed up by the jaws of the night, Jack returns to the bar.
And it's like a balm on his open, fiery wounds. It's like a cool drink that takes away the aftertaste of ash. It feels like love.
And Jack? He couldn't imagine anything better.
Talking to one person was a dream, but talking to more than five beings, who actually listen to him, every day? It's like winning the biggest prize in the lottery, and Jack is not going to lose it.
Conversations with Nane Sarma don't go beyond her occasional grunts. Though sometimes, when she's in a good mood, she tells him about her husband and her favorite snow days.
Babaroga, when she's too drunk and starts to talk, tells him about her best-laid plans for possible kidnappings of rude infants.
(Jack usually laughs. She's not serious... right?)
Conversations with Tsurara-onna are always full of feelings and grief forged by years of loneliness and abandonment. And as always, they end up dancing, two beings born in the womb of winter seeking a warmth that is denied to them.
(Tsurara-onna's fingers never stop touching him.)
Unlike his conversations with Tsurara-onna, the conversations he has with Hedyoinos are humorous. He calls him by silly, cheesy nicknames until Jack can no longer hold in his laughter. And that's when the Satyr, as a reward for making him laugh, asks him for a kiss.
(Hedyoinos lips never stop kissing him.)
x.
When people pass through him, he feels numb.
Sometimes, when Tsurara-onna's slender, cold fingers, so similar to his own, run across his waist as she dances, he feels numb.
When kisses, more often than not, stray to the man's chaste lips, and claws dig into his jaw, he feels numb.
And when Ninkasi gives him a look that Jack fails to decipher but thinks he remembers, he feels numb.
(And sometimes, the being made of hostile shadows and black tar fears, watches him from afar. And Jack doesn't feel numb.)
Isn't it curious? He's a winter spirit, he shouldn't feel numb.
(What's more curious is that even surrounded by so many spirits, he still feels numb. As if he's still stuck in the same loop as before.)
He is so lost in thought, that when he enters the bar, he doesn't notice the molten gold eyes lurking in the shadows, and for the first time ever, following him inside.
Ninkasi is behind the bar, cleaning up. Babaroga and Nane Sarma are drunk, arguing in hushed tones.
Tsurara-onna approaches him, fingers tracing the frozen veins in his thin wrist. "...My winter child, let's dance."
And Jack is about to agree, until a large hand grabs his other arm.
" No, Frozen angel, you'd better talk to me."
And— he's interrupted by the doors swinging open.
The temperature drop wakes even Nane Sarma, who was now dozing at the bar table. Tsurara-onna and Hedyoinos recoil, bristling.
Jack is about to go into a spiral, for surely there must be something wrong with him, if even they are no longer approaching him.
" Oh, Jack, welcome!" Ninkasi greets him, with a friendly smile on his eternally tired face, throwing the rag over his shoulder. " Who's your friend?" And this time, the smile is sharp, almost wicked.
Eh?
Jack turns, confused, to meet the chest of the being made from hostile shadows and black tar fears.
" ...Pitch Black." He introduces himself and Jack tries to remember that, which is much shorter than his old nickname for him.
Ninkasi hums, as if he already knows it. " The king of nightmares, if I remember correctly."
Ah, Jack realizes. That's why Tsurara-onna and Hedyoinos walked away.
Tsurara-onna and Hedyoinos look sideways at him, but neither moves from their place.
"...I didn't know you were his friend, winter child ." Tsurara-onna whispers, unhappy and frightened in equal parts. Hedyoinos seems to share the sentiment, if the grimace on his face is any indication.
" Oh, we are not. I just came here to...observe."
Jack frowns at him, annoyed. Maybe they never spoken before, but that doesn't make them no-friends, right?
"... And you've observed enough, nightmare king?"
Pitch Black looks amused, which baffles Jack. He didn't think he could look like that, though he didn't know he had a name either, so Jack isn't the best one to judge.
" Yes. Thank you for… enlightening me."
Ninkasi lets out a dry laugh. "You don't look very pleased."
Pitch Black smiles, all sharp teeth.
" Maybe that's because I'm not."
Both Tsurara-onna and Hedyoinos take this as a cue to disappear as fast as their legs will let them, while Nane Sarma lets out a laugh that echoes in her glass.
Jack looks at Pitch Black, equal parts confused, annoyed and relieved.
"So Pitch Black..." Jack begins. "What's this all about?"
Ninkasi pretends not to listen, attracting the attention of the two drunken old women with the promise of more alcohol.
" What isn't it about, winter child?"
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."
" Oh, my dearest winter child, this isn't your place, is it?"
"...What do you mean?"
"You stand there, numb, without direction or guidance. I think we both know what I mean and what you don't say."
And he's right.
Because Jack knows, objectively and on a subconscious level, that the things he does with Tsurara-onna and Hedyoinos are not quite right. He also knows that Ninkasi, if he cared just a little, would do something, rather than incentivise him with the promise of some fruity booze.
And yet...
Jack doesn't mind.
He prefers the physical, invasive company to the overwhelming loneliness he's felt all his life.
So if this is what he has to do to get it, he'll do it and no one will stop him.
-❄️-