Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lately, I’ve been dreaming of a hospital.

Dreams of someone drawing or eating in bed.

Sometimes, he laughs or says something, smiling. But I can never hear his voice.

Maybe it’s because I’m nothing more than an outsider, staring into his viewpoint, his world.

It’s the only dream I have now.

…

It’s a peaceful scene.

So why…

Why does my heart ache so much?

☆☆☆

Loud chatter echoed throughout the glassy building. Sunlight pouring through, illuminating the demons. Footsteps tapping rhythmically onto the check-patterned floor, sound mixing like a symphony with the chatter and the occasional leaving trains.

Behind one demon in particular, the metal gates of the station ticket barriers. Above, the dark board declaring times, delays and cancellations.

Vine staff tightened her grip on her shoulder bag, surveying the scene. She’s opted for a simple outfit, a retro-style dress and her most comfortable trainers. No need to dress up.

Especially with Crossroads stations on its way to become a common sight.

Resolutely, she continued.

Reaching the centre of the station, in all its floral-patterned glory, she glanced at the exit signs before turning a sharp left. Ignoring the many shops and cafés scattered around the lobby, colourfully decorated like a festival. A distraction.

Station doors opening automatically, the towering skyline and buildings greeted her. All around, demons going on their daily business. Vehicles zooming by, adding to the melody of the city.

Weaving in and out of crowds, she clutched her bag tightly.

Continuing on.

Until an empty clearing. No demons in sight, just what she wanted.

Now, she stopped.

Reaching out her right hand, the silver ring inscribed with runes glittered in the light, bright pink gem shining sweetly.

Focus.

Upon opening her eyes, her ring had vanished. In her hand, a Faberge egg. Decorated on top, a lotus flower emblem. On the golden covering below, an emblem of roots.

She had a mission.

After all, that’s why I came to this city.

Ever since that visit, it's been nothing but that same dream. Over and over.

I have to figure it out.

I need to find out who he is.

☆☆☆

It’s sunset.

Her soul gem shines, blinking almost unnaturally. The buzzing feeling almost consuming her brain.

So many witches. Almost to an extraordinary extent.

She visibly deflates at that thought, pinching her brow tiredly. Chasing a witch wasn’t exactly a good idea, but it was the only decent option she had in this scenario. Especially in unknown territory.

?!

The source is gone.

Eyes widening, she clutched her soul gem more tightly. Posture growing more defensive.

How could it have disappeared so quickly?!

Whipping round left, the static buzz returned more strongly. So far from where she originally found it.

Automatically, she sprints over, eyes narrowing as she catches up.

The world almost seemed to glitch to accommodate the barrier. In the centre of the garbled cloud mess, a black triangle with a wooden sphere in the centre. Contrasting strongly to the quiet urban scene, loud noises vaguely sounding of scraping nails on a chalkboard and shovelling sand.

But that wasn’t the concern.

Someone’s already inside. In trouble.

I have to save them!

Already, her hands move to surround the gem. Closing her eyes, she focuses, allowing the bright flash of light consume her, before the brief sensation of falling.

(No matter how many times she transforms, the burst of thrill is hard to get used to).

A split folded top, with a hot-pink and gold neckline and dark-green fabric beneath. One side a shimmery pink, the other a brilliant red, complete with a white and gold lotus print. Obi matching the red, green strip in the centre. Decorated with a hanamusubi knot, as well as pink, blue, green and red bead chain.

Colourful ruffled pastel white sleeves, with a single red sleeve covering her left arm. Gold necklace glittering, lotus-shaped gem in the centre.

Her skirt is folded, from a beautifully shimmery peach-pink gradient fabric. Printed on the skirt is a root emblem. The skirt border is hot-pink, with a pastel green fabric wrap at the waist. Underneath the wrapping, a dark-green layer with a tulle trim.

Her combat boots are pastel white, with gold laces and a matching-coloured emblem travelling upwards.

Earrings fashioned into little shurikens, red in colour. Upon her head, two peonies. One light pink, one light blue. Both with a yellow centre, attached with a red headband.

Staff transformed to have white roots crawling upwards towards the pink lotus, stopping near the glowing orb.

With the light cleared up, she jumps inside.

Bracing herself for the swirling sensation of entering a labyrinth, cartoony wooden doors opening as she jumps in. Breathing in dust, watery eyes from sand hitting her face.

Footsteps transforming from the dull thud of concrete to the crunching of sand.

The glaring sunset sky greeted her, feeling of eyes burning upon sight. Rusted metal beams hanging over ominously as it blocked out the sky view, bent at an angle that defied physics entirely. Golden sand almost glittering, warping under her weight. Scattered around, hyper-realistic beads and various play-blocks, screaming of lost innocence and childish memories.

Spherical trains of many materials squirming in the sand, small humanoid legs tapping away. Despite lacking any eyes, its sight seemed to bore into the unfortunate victim.

Over there!

With shaky precision, she points her staff at the Familiar, seed bullets flying.

A satisfying hit.

Glitched screeches can be heard, as her fellow Phighter turned towards their saviour.

“Are you okay?!” concern on her face as she ran over to them, clutching her weapon tightly.

“Yeah… I’m okay! Thank you!” they replied to her in between panted breaths, minor shock on their face.

“No problem.” Briefly smiling at them, before glancing behind herself.

The smile froze, heart almost jumping out at the sight.

How is the Familiar still alive?!

Nevertheless…

“This way!”

There were more important things to be prioritised, after all.

☆☆☆

A soothing warmth as the healing took effect, enveloping the golden dressed Phighter. Better to be safe than sorry, after all.

“You okay now?” Dropping the staff and the healing effect, waiting as the glow vanished. “You’ve got hit pretty badly.”

The mystery Phighter only smiled, albeit sheepishly. “I’m alright. Thanks again for the save.” Fiddling with the microphone in their hands (a nervous habit, possibly).

(That microphone seemed very familiar one. But that wasn’t the issue).

“It was nothing.” A dismissive wave at the response, before a sigh. “Still, those Familiars were pretty tough…”

Mystery Phighter blinked, confounded. “…are you not from Crossroads?”

Now it was Vine Staff’s turn to stare. “No? Why ask?” But the sympathetic look seemed to answer the question.

“Were they one of the weaker familiars?!” a cold dread slamming her heart right down.

The sympathetic look grew more outright. “Yep… they’re real nasty to fight against. Especially the witches.” A wince, “I hate to sound rude, but you should probably go home.”

Shaking her head, she only chuckled as the golden Phighter stared. “Ah, thank you for the concern, but I have my reasons for staying.”

“You do?” Raising an eyebrow at that.

“Mhm.” Here, her expression grew solemn. “Have you seen a little Kyubey around?”

“A little Kyubey…” their face scrunched in thought, mic handle tapped rhythmically.

“Oh, yeah! Lately, it’s the only Kyubey seen around town.” Their face lit up at the memory, before turning crestfallen. “But you’ll have to hurry! It’s back at the witch’s labyrinth, I think.”

“It is?!” she exclaimed loudly, frantically turned back towards the entrance.

Of course, nothing is there.

Even so…

“Thank you! I’ll go find it, now.” Already starting to leave, she turned back slightly towards the Phighter. “I realised I never got your name.”

“Va-” A beat. “It’s Microphone. He/him.”

“Vine Staff, she/her.”

 Microphone nodded, before a face of concern. “The little Kyubey is skittish. You’ll have to be careful!”

“Got that, thank you!” She bounds off, waving goodbye.

As she vanishes from sight, Microphone frowned thoughtfully.

“I wonder what she needs with that little Kyubey?”

☆☆☆

Sprinting, the world seemed to vanish from conscious view as her soul gem glows almost in time with the rhythmic thumping of her feet.

There! The same magic pattern as earlier!

Should be able to track it.

Unusually, the area is more constricted. A change to a witch’s usual of crowded locations.

Pause.

As if waiting for that moment, the glowing seemed to stop too. Indicating the witch settling.

No…

It’s getting closer.

That feeling of vertigo, kaleidoscope swirls around the alleyway scene, filling her view.

Back into the sandy dimension of the witch’s labyrinth.

Quiet.

Almost unnervingly so.

Kyu!

Over there!

A pause, as she contemplates ideas. After what Microphone said, cautiousness doesn’t hurt.

A tugging memory, but that is thrown out as the Little Kyubey begins to move towards her.

Was he wrong…?

A loud screeching, similar to the sound of a braking train. Noisy, overwhelming, painful.

Immediately, the staff is out. But it’s too late to make a difference.

All she could see were familiars, blocking out any other sight. Non-existent eyes staring, chirping almost in triumph.

“Ah!” She yelped as a heavy debris is thrown at ferocious speeds. “Not yet!” she retaliated with bullet seeds, towards the closest ones

Yet, when one fell, another appeared in place.

“How did they surround me so quick?” wondering aloud, it distracted her enough for another hit by a Familiar. “Ow…”

There’s not enough time.

Breathing deeply, she sprang off, scooping the Little Kyubey along. “I’ve got to get out!”

Her injuries throbbing painfully, heart pounding almost in beat with the pain.

Too into it to notice.

A scream, agonising, as a sharp burst of pain hit her head.

☆☆☆

Everything around her is fuzzy.

No matter how much she struggled, the heavy feeling dragged her further down, the world blurring more and more. Like a broken signal, nothing but static in her senses.

A distant thump.

The feeling of sand upon her face.

Kyubey…

Footsteps.

Slowly, she glances up.

A towering figure, staring down at her, both physically and mentally. Posture showing nothing but discontent.

Pure white porcelain, with crimson markings. Tusks upon the lower jaw, unlike their horns shaped like a bull’s, red in colour. Slits on the mask, allowing their eyes to bore right into her soul.

Most strikingly, the Thieves Den logo. So familiar to her and yet, not familiar at all.

The figure stares down, like an owl after its prey.

“Leave this city. You do not belong here.”

Who…?

…

Chapter Text

“Back here again?”

The pale blue hospitals walls greeted her eyes, as familiar as ever.

Floor to ceiling windows allowing sunlight to illuminate the two demons inside, pale blue curtains fluttering in an unfelt breeze. Hospital beds decked accordingly.

In the centre bed, the singular cause of the dream.

Staring.

“Who are you?” she urges.

He only smiles.

☆☆☆

A distant sound of fireflies.  

Blearily opening her eyes, the streetlights shone down like a spotlight, sending waves of discomfort rippling throughout her body. A brief feeling of dizziness upon focusing on her surroundings.

Scattered trees, a small children’s playground in the distance, spiralling paths to other locations.

It’s late. Probably way past the time her usual train left. She groans at that thought.

A sudden burst of sharp pain stabs her. Distantly, the feel of a bench park on her back. She flinches, nursing her head.

“What…?”

“Oh. You’re finally awake.”

Head slowly swivelling round, she is greeted by someone in a pumpkin mask.

“How’s your head?” the mystery demon observes her carefully. Despite the lack of face, concern can clearly be seen. They make movements of comforting gestures, wariness etched in each action.

She jumps at the sudden contact.  “I’m- I’m fine.” Face flushing, as she retreats slightly.

“That’s a relief.” They said, a smile heard, before moving their hand back to their side.

“Who… are you?” she frowns, observing the other demon carefully.

They blink. “Hm, me?”

A flash of blue, bursting around in flames, engulfing her.

A white frilly, long-sleeved top. Sleeve and sailor collar trimmed with dark blue frills. On the neck, a dark blue bow, with a flame-shaped soul gem on it and a golden frame.

The skirt and bodice a matching blue, with a flame-like pattern and a glittery texture to it. Golden laces the bottom with a trim of midnight blue and black stripes. Bodice with white string laced through the black and gold. On the left hip, light blue roses with leaves and multiple golden chains. Orange, pink, and blue crystals in the shape of a traffic cone, a firefly, and a book hang respectively.

Her shoes are a simple midnight blue, strap connected to the ruffled anklet, trimmed with white ruffles. Stockings are black, with a frilly cuff and a rose pattern spiralling down.

Upon the top of her mask, an academic cap with a golden tassel, which somehow not caught on her antlers.

The book in their hands, a matching midnight blue with a fancy ghost flower pattern engraved on it.

Vine staff’s eyes widened, hand moving to her face. “You’re-”

“Yes, I’m a Phighter, too.”

Another burst of flames and back into their ordinary outfit.

Vine Staff stares, unblinkingly, thoughtfully.

They aren’t the Phighter I saw before passing out, right? They’re more blue than red… and wasn’t that demon much larger-?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” they moved closer, a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You’ll get eaten right up if you walk around with your heads in the clouds.”

?!

She yelped, practically falling off the bench as she crawled back. Face now a full pink.

Their eyes seemed to scrunch, looking away.

“Hm… not as effective as it should be. Come to think of it, it didn’t work for Lightblox…”

“Oh!” Vine Staff jumps up, bowing deeply, albeit slightly frantically. “Thank you for the save!”

“It’s no problem.” They replied, offering the juice bottle which she takes gratefully. “Still, losing to Familiars is not a good look.”

She winces at that memory, turning away as the shame rose.

“That’s why I’ll take you to the Coordinator.” They nod firmly, reassuring themself.

She blinks confusedly, tilting her head slightly. “The… Coordinator?”

“You really must not be from around here.” They chuckle, unflustered. “Since Witches are more powerful here, the Coordinator is a must for magic enhancement and introduction to other Phighters.”

“Sounds too good to be true.” Distrust still prevalent in her tone, albeit less than before.

 They shrug lightly, setting off. “See for yourself.”

So, there’s no choice.

“Take to them, then.” She makes movement, walking besides her fellow Phighter.

“There we go.” They laugh, melodic and sweet. “Ghosdeeri at your service. She/her.”

“Vine Staff. She/her.” She internally winces as the introduction is curter than expected.

Fortunately, it isn’t noticed.  

“Thank you.”

☆☆☆

“Is this the place?” Vine Staff grimaces, disgust creeping with each word.

She’d been taken to a desolate, quiet neighbourhood, with plenty of abandoned houses to boot, before Ghosdeeri had stopped in front of a certain house, dead centre in the street before escorting her inside.

And clearly, there’s a lot to be fixed.

The house interior is crumbling. Not much better than outside.

Walls coloured a dull grey with hints of mould seeping inside. Fluorescent blue lighting, flickering occasionally as if in a cheesy horror movie. Square pillars looking more like triangles, with the missing materials scattered about.

The sign above, reading ‘Da Shop’, had paint clearly peeling off.  The sign clearly had not underwent refurbishment in a long while.

“Here? Couldn’t they have chosen a better spot for business?”

Ghosdeeri nodded, though Vine Staff swore she was hiding a smile under than mask.

“The Coordinator cannot fight the witches and familiars himself. Lucky for him, they tend to not go near places with so few people.” A brief scoff is heard, as Vine Staff blinked at the noise.

“One warning.” Vine Staff turns warily at the words, as Ghosdeeri focuses closely on the door. “The Coordinator is somewhat… discourteous at times. He has his way with words.”

“Come again?!” Too late to back down.

The mask-wearing demon opened the door.

Surprisingly, the Coordinator’s room isn’t as messy as outside.

Checkered black and white floor pattens, with a massive coral-blue carpet in the room centre. Fluffy enough to rest on, possibly. The pattern is obscured by the multiple teal sofas in a circle, decorated with an assortment of comfortable pillows, a plain wooden table in the centre.

Various potted plants are scattered around. They’re all fake, much to Vine Staff’s disappointment.

A giant tapestry of glass art in front, centre showing a shape similar to an explosion.

“Been a while, hasn’t it Deeri?” Vine Staff jumped at the sudden voice.

Whipping round, a demon dressed in what could only be described as a fancy magician suit and pearly white gloves that did not match the rest of his outfit, grinned as he leaned towards the duo, hands on his cheeks.

“I’ve missed you, y’know. It’s been so boring without you here.” He actually pouts. It’s almost embarrassing to watch.

Ghosdeeri sighed “Doubt that. You’ve had a lot of customers lately.”

He huffs, folding his arms dramatically and turning away. “Not true at all!”

Those creepy eyes (or eye…?) turn to bore right into a hapless Vine Staff.

As she mentally debated running away, the teal demon already had her in a handshake.

He’s smiling. It’s terrifying.

“New customer! Welcome!” The complete 180 is enough to give her whiplash.

She squints, returning the gesture with as much force as she can muster. “Can I at least get your name…?” letting the phrase drag out as she yanks her hand away.

“But of course!” he sing-songs (very annoyingly), before bowing dramatically. “The Broker at your service. Please come back anytime!”

She nods automatically, still keeping that suspicious squint.

The smile on his face fades slightly. “Not gonna tell me your own name?” he tilts his head expectingly.

…

“…Vine Staff.” She reluctantly spits out.

The grin swings back full force. “Pleasure to meet you. I assume you’re here for the soul gem alignment?” he places his hand out expectingly.

Before Vine Staff could even reply, Ghosdeeri stepped forward, dropping a Grief Seed into his waiting hand. “Yes. It’s on me.”

“Pardon?!” she glanced at the blue demon, wide eyed. “Are you- but you’ve already helped me so much!”

The core seemed to beat more, almost like happiness. “Us Phighters look out for one another. No need to return the favour.”

She blushes, turning towards the Coordinator as the smile dropped. “So… what exactly is… aligning the soul gem?”

He giggles. It’s an ear-grating sound. “I’m glad you asked!” The Broker clasps his hands together as he explains.

“You see, I reach riiight into your soul gem and I can infuse it with another kind of magic or bring out your hidden potential!”

That’s exactly what Ghosdeeri said.

Her face falls as she considers the possibilities.

Would it really work?

As if a mind reader, the Broker added: “You’ll be surprised how much of a difference it makes.” He grins, like a zealous salesman making a bargain.

And Vine Staff is the unfortunate customer. “Fine then.”

“Okay!” he chirps, gesturing towards a bed similar to a medic’s. Grinning, he clasps his hands and adds: “all I require is your eye!”

Pause.

“Nevermind.” Vine Staff backed off, glare in full force.

Ghosdeeri side-eyed her ‘friend’, crossing her arms in obvious disbelief. “That’s no way to treat a customer.”

“It was merely a jest…” he grumbled.

For one pure second, a face of regret and irritation. But then it vanished.

How odd.

☆☆☆

“Is this your hospital room again?”

It’s much clearer now.

She laughs. It’s tainted with a familiar feeling. “I’ve seen it so many times, I could recognise it anywhere.”

Vine Staff turns towards the figure in bed. “Weren’t you trying to tell me something before?”

He giggles, but there’s no sound.

She frowns slightly. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear that.”

He blinks, face crestfallen. Glancing down onto the bedsheets.

She panics, waving her arms placatingly. “I didn’t mean to upset you! I just can’t hear you…“

Stepping forwards, closer and closer.

“Hey…” now, she’s within distance. “Who are you?”

He only smiles.

The world flashes white.

“Please don’t go! Answer me!” she’s screaming out, not caring about possibly disturbing the other visitors.

“Who are you?! How are we related?!”

Nothing responds.

Why do I feel so overwhelmed with affection and nostalgia whenever I see you…?

☆☆☆

“Well?” he bobs around, expectingly. “How do you feel now?”

Blearily blinking away any traces of sleep, she stretches. Muffling a loud yawn behind her hand.

“I feel a lot better. And warmer?” she flexes her wrist, noting the brief twinge of sluggishness.

“Then that means it worked!” he giggles, wagging out a finger. “At first, you might feel worn out or even uncomfortable. But that should disappear with time!”

“Thank you.” Bowing as politely as she can manage, inching closer towards the exit subtly.

But not before catching Ghosdeeri’s voice.

“…Coordinator?”

…

“When I touch someone’s soul gem, I can see into their past.”

Silence.

“Apologies for the rudeness.” His tone spoke otherwise. “I must ask you something.”

Footsteps, growing louder with each movement.

“What was your wish?”

…?

“Every Phighter makes a wish with their contract with Kyubey. Do you remember yours?”

…

Now there’s the bubbling curiosity, the awful kind she knows that gnaws away your being. Both in his tone and in her heart.

“Yes, I do.” Is what she spoke out instead, face passive. “It’s…”

Her movements froze. “It was-”

She looks away. “My wish-”

That scene again. And again.

He only smiles. He never answers.

“Agh!”

That painful feeling, gripping her heart again. Her lungs constricted itself, the world swimming around her. Knives stabbing her every desperate attempt of breathing.

“You… why?!” distantly, tears running down her face.

“Why won’t you say anything?”

“Vine?!” a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I need you to breathe in and out. With me.” A growing warmth to her sides.

She obliges.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

The tears flow to a stop. Her breathing becomes easier.

“That small Kyubey has something to do with it!” startled, Ghosdeeri withdraws slightly.

Shakily, Vine Staff jumps up. Swaying slightly, she stumbled towards the exit.

“Vine! It’s not advised to go out while in this state!” a hand in hers, urging her back.

But she only rejects it. “Let me go! I need to find the small Kyubey!”

“Please, wait-”

But Vine Staff is long gone.

The Broker only observes impassively. A change. “She’s certainly peculiar, is she not?”

Yet, she doesn’t bother in replying.

Her hands drift worryingly to the bramble core.

“But then he’ll find you…!”

☆☆☆

Footsteps echoed with each movement, breathing hard as she ran.

She’s lost in the maze of houses.

Her soul gem blinked weakly, glimmer vanishing with each step.

The Witch’s magic is fading. I need to hurry!

“That is enough.” From upfront.

Thud!

She yelped, gravity barrelling her backwards.

“Please, get out of my way!” Her mind, still in a frenzy, spits out. “I’m in a hurry!” she attempts to bypass.

“I will not repeat myself again.” Still, they block the alleyway path.  “Enough.”

She frowns, stepping forwards. “And I told you, it’s urgent-”

A glint.

“Ah?!”

She froze, the silver katana up against her throat.

Not even attempting to move, lest she gets beheaded.  

They huff, almost satisfactorily, withdrawing their weapon to the side.

Trembling, she finally turns towards the wielder.

“And why should I listen?” her barely contained sass bubbled through, words spilling out without a filter. Hands shakily moving to her side in defiance.

He continued to observe discontentedly, slits narrowing at her response. “You should know why.”

“You-?” her mind chose that perfect moment to resurface a memory.

Pure white porcelain, with crimson markings. Tusks upon the lower jaw, unlike his horns shaped like a bull’s, red in colour. Slits on the mask.

“Leave.”

“You were the one back at the Witch's labyrinth!” she exclaimed, much louder than expected. Kicking herself for not recognising him sooner, with an appearance that stood out so vividly.

She swore he chuckled at that.

“How fortunate. You do recognise me.” He reached out his red soul gem.

“As I was interrupted before, allow me to cut right to the chase.”

Symbols, crimson red, surround him. A bright neon glow, enough for Vine Staff to squint her eyes and turn away.

Black and red haori-jacket fusion, burgundy beads upon his neck and right arm, colour matching his gloves, belt and rope upon their knees. Gold accents, with a red hanamubusi knot. Dark pink, green and blue badges on the side of the belt.

Red conical hat upon his head. Katana obtaining a neon edge, glowing red and white with the handle matching his outfit in its red and black glory, red rope near the bottom of said handle.

Chills permeate her body as the full force of the masked stare bore right into her very being.

“Now, there is nothing to stop me from driving you out of this city.”

Chapter Text

This fic is discontinued.

I’ve lost interest and also because of stuff that happened in the phandom.

I’ll probably still write very rarely.

Sorry.