Chapter Text
"Okay, I'm leaving. Remember not to open the door for strangers, if you want to visit Green and the other kids in Minecraft drop me a message first, if I'm not home yet when you come back, don't forget to close the nether portal, also-"
"Sir-MT, I'm not a kid anymore. I've been living by myself for almost 2 years now, you don't have to worry about me." Purple pouted at Mango as the latter reached for his gold scarf, wrapping it around his neck meticulously.
"I know, I know. I have completely faith in your ability to take care of yourself, it's just..." Mango let out a sigh and placed a hand on the door knob, "...old habits die hard."
Purple bit their lip as they watched Mango open the door. The fierce, icy wind of December blew some snow flakes onto the doormat.
"And don't forget to eat your lunch, there's food in the fridge. Don't heat metal containers in the microwave, remember to scoop whatever's inside into a bowl first-"
"MT!"
"Okay okay I'll stop now." Mango laughed and ruffled Purple's hair. "See you in the afternoon."
"See you!"
The door closed with a thud. Purple let out a breath they didn't know they were holding and turned around.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock...The sound of the wall clock echoed across the living room, the only sound keeping them company.
They were alone, the realisation slowly sank in like a pebble descending down a deep well. Purple hugged themselves absentmindedly, their gaze drifted onto the small framed photograph placed on a low cabinet to their left. In it, a young child sat on their father's shoulders, beaming at them brightly.
Purple responded with a small smile of their own, then withdrew their gaze and straightened their back. No use in standing here like a moron, they scolded themselves, they need to find something to do.
They scanned across the living room and only then did they realise what a mess it still was. The walls were covered with furious scribbles of Mango King Orange's notes and calculations, books and previous iterations of the King's staff were hastily piled up in the corners, the floor was coated by a thick layer of dust.
Purple mentally kicked themselves. It's been two weeks since Mango gave up his title as King Orange and even allowed Purple to live with him in his own house, and they didn't even think of cleaning up said house for him? What kind of child roommate were they?
They'll make the house spotless before Mango came back. Purple's heart leaped as they pictured Mango returning home, pleasantly surprised, and telling them how good it was to have them around. They bounced on their feet a few times in excitement, and immediately set themselves in motion.
An indefinite amount of scrubbing, sweeping, mopping and tidying later, Purple glanced at the wall clock and noticed the minute hand had thrice swept pass the same marking since Mango left. They stretched their sore muscles and admired their work: the once dusty and stained floor now practically gleaming, the walls clean and polished, furnitures and items neatly arranged, a fresh scent of cleaning products filled the air. Several short, joyful notes escaped from Purple’s mouth, they can’t wait for Mango to see this!
Satisfied, they realised how exhausted they were, and decided to take a well deserved break.
A bucket of dirty soap water, coincidentally sitting in Purple's way, was knocked over. Purple stumbled on the slippery floor and lost their balance. They yelped in surprise, flailed their arms and tried to grab hold of something, but failed and fell painfully into the puddle of filthy water with a splash. "Ow..." They mumbled, sitting up and rubbed their aching elbows. "Great, I have to mop the floor all over again..."
Suddenly, they spotted something on the floor. Blood drained from their face.
The photograph of Mango and his child lay submerged in the foul, murky water. A large, ugly crack marred the lovingly polished glass, liquid gradually seeped in through the crack, tainting Gold's wide grin with a greyish stain.
"God, oh no, oh nononononono...." Purple snatched the broken photograph from the ground and desperately wiped away all the disgusting liquid from its surface, but the damage was already done.
"It's okay, it's okay! I-I can fix this!" Purple reassured themselves with trembling voice, knowing perfectly well deep down that there's nothing they could do to reverse the damage. They traced the cracks with cold, numb fingers, the glaring blemish on the photo paper stung their eyes. "Oh god, what have I done..."
Purple recalled the first time they entered Mango's house, everything was carelessly lying around unkempt except for this photograph, which was free from the slightest speckle of dust. When Purple picked up the photograph to have a closer look, Mango snatched the photo away from Purple immediately. Every now and then, Mango would stare at the photo with such tenderness in his eyes that made Purple's heart throb.
A newfound horror dawned upon Purple. What would Mango do when he found out that Purple broke his most cherished possession? The one and only memento of his dearest child?
The mere thought alone made Purple's whole body seize up in fear. Their legs felt like noodles as they sat helplessly in the slowly spreading puddle of dirty water. Purple hugged the broken photograph closely to their chest, their frame trembling with every sharp inhale, wet eyes darting around the room, desperately trying to find a solution.
Then, Purple heard the click of a key inserted into the keyhole, followed by the soft clunk of the bolt retracting.
Their heart stopped.
"I'm home!" Mango's deep, warm voice sounded like death knell to Purple's ears. They suddenly found themselves pinned to the ground, eyes glued to the dark liquid beneath them, unable to move, unable to speak. Their knuckles went white with how tightly they clinched the photograph, heart hammering against their chest.
"Wait no-shoot...wrong house..."
"...Eh? But this is my house?"
"Purple! Kid, did you clean up the whole place while I was gone? Hehe, I didn't even recognise this place!"
"...Purple?"
Footsteps. Mango's voice was right above them. "Purple? Why are you...what's wrong?"
Purple tried to answer, but their vocal cord cannot make a sound.
"Hey, kid-" Purple felt Mango touching their shoulders, they jerked backwards so violently as if being burnt. Purple looked up, and saw Mango towering over them.
A heavy kick from Navy sent Purple slamming into the gravel ground. The friction sent scorching pain across their back. Their father towered over them, looking angry and disappointed. "Get up! Now!" He growled, stomping the ground hard with one foot.
"S-sir! I-" Purple wanted to stand up, but their feet doesn't feel like theirs. Instead they scrambled backwards like a wounded animal.
Mango must have sensed something was wrong. Purple didn't miss how his brows furrowed and how his eyes went sharp and scrutinising. His gaze was like an invisible hand squeezing the air out of Purple's lungs.
"Get up you little-! You think your enemies are just going to let you take your own sweet time?! If you're in a real battle you'd be dead by now!" Navy's mouth was contorted in a snarl, his booming voice rung at Purple's ears. They tried to stand up, but every muscle inside them screamed of pain and exhaustion.
"Purple, I need you to to tell me what's wrong. I promise I won't hurt you." Mango's voice was gentle and steady, but Purple still flinched as if Mango was yelling.
"I...I..." Purple's tongue felt like sandpaper inside their mouth.
Say something! Make something up! Anything! He cannot find out about the photograph!
As if on cue, Mango's piercing gaze locked onto the small rectangular frame in Purple's arms. All was lost.
Time slowed down. Purple watched, frozen in place, as Mango slowly bent down and took away the photograph. Seeing the damage, Mango's body stiffened, lips pressed together tightly. Then, his eyes turned to Purple again.
The floor was spinning. The room was spinning. Purple's chest felt weird. They tasted bile in their throat. Heartbeats were deafening. Needles were pricking their hands and feet. Somewhere in the distance someone was gasping for breath. They were gasping for breath.
"What the hell is wrong with you today?! Stop crying like a wimp! Did you forget everything I taught you? GET. UP!!" This wasn't their father. This couldn't be their father. The being yelling at them was a demon taking form of their father. Purple curled into a fetal position and hid their face, wishing for everything to stop.
No, no, no. They need to calm down, go back normal. Mango's gonna notice and things would get worse. These episodes always make things worse. Stop breathing this fast, NOW!
"Purple, what-" Mango's lips were moving, but Purple cannot register what he was saying. Mango crouched down. Mango lifted their hand towards them.
The first kick landed on Purple's back, knocking the air out of them.
Useless. Thud.
Weak. Thud.
Pathetic. Thud.
Failure. Thud.
Purple's pupils contracted as the hand inched closer to them. No, no, no. This is bad. This's very bad. He's angry. He's going to hurt them. He's going to hurt them like Navy did.
They need to stay away from him, they need to run, they need to get out of here.
Driven by a sudden rush of adrenaline, Purple bolted like a doe startled by a gunshot and dove straight into the trap door leading to the basement. Mango's astonished shout rang behind them, but they didn't dare to look back. They stumbled across the passageway littered with debris, blood pounded in their ears.
Purple activated the nether portal and threw themselves inside.