Chapter Text
It's raining in Penacony, heaviest it's been in weeks. Robin walks the streets, trying to get to the train station. Holding a newspaper over her head to keep the rain off her face, she pushes through the downpour. Her sunglasses remain firmly in place, her hair tucked into a hat—a makeshift disguise to keep her identity hidden from the public.
She steps onto the public transport, the cold metal of the train’s handrails slick with rainwater. Sliding into a seat, she tucks her skirt beneath her lap and pulls out her phone. A flood of messages from her boyfriend lights up the screen, each one more impatient than the last. Demanding her location. Demanding answers. She sighs, her thumb hesitating over the keyboard before typing a short reply: “On my way home.” She shoves the phone into her handbag, its buzzing protests muffled.
The rhythmic patter of rain against the train’s windows fills the silence. Robin taps her finger against her knee, a soft accompaniment to the storm outside. She hums one of her songs under her breath, a familiar melody that normally brings her comfort, but tonight it feels hollow. The sense of dread pooling in her stomach grows heavier with every mile closer to home.
She doesn’t notice the figure that slides into the seat beside her until he props his feet up on the one opposite. A faint waft of wet leather and rain-soaked fabric reaches her. The man glances at her, a flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes before he dismisses it, leaning back and closing his eyes to rest. His posture is casual, but Robin’s senses are suddenly heightened, aware of his every shift and breath.
The train lurches slightly, and she tightens her grip on her handbag. Outside, the city blurs beneath sheets of rain, its lights dim and distorted. She tries to focus on the rhythm of the train, the tap of her finger matching its steady clatter over the tracks. But she can’t shake the unease creeping up her spine, her thoughts spiralling back to the texts, to the confrontation waiting for her at the end of this journey.
As the bus drives along, it starts to get slower as the rain gets heavier and heavier.
Robin jolts forward as the bus halts to a stop before she feels a hand on her shoulder, keeping her from hitting her head on the seat ahead.
“Whoa there, little lady.. We don't want a pretty thing like you hitting your head now do we?”
She turns to look in the direction of the southern accent, seeing a person with long white and black hair, some dirt smudged across their face and clothes. She jumps away from their touch with no ill intent, simply shocked.
“O-oh! I’m so sorry! Wait.. why isn't the bus moving?”
“Well the roads are flooded, Missy. Your back doesn't hurt from the sudden stop now, does it?”
Robin's cheeks flush at the concern, not expecting a stranger to care so much about her.”Ah, N-no..i'm quite alright, thank you…?”
She pauses, realising that she had not gotten his name, let alone the fact she didn’t even notice he had sat next to her at all!
“Hah.. It’s Boothill.. And you’re Robin aren't you.. The cherub idol..”
At those words, her stomach drops, realising her sunglasses had fallen off, as well as her hair falling into her face, framing it as beautifully nas always.
Boothill notices her expression before he takes a hair tie from his bag, pink and sparkly, contrasting his deep coloured aesthetic. He leans over, gathering her hair before braiding it and hiding it back into her hat. “No worries. Your secret is safe with me. I never thought I'd meet an idol on a bus though, no limo to take a young lady like you home, eh?”
Robin's blush deepens, his fingers felt like he braided hair on the daily, even though his hair had no wave marks from ever being braided. How odd. “Well thank you anyway, Mr Boothill..and thank you for not blabbing to anyone, i’m just a normal girl y’know..?”
Boothill chuckles softly, pushing some hair away from their eyes to see her better. “Again, no worries. I understand this life mustn't be easy..”
As the chatter continues, the intercom over the bus announces an emergency stop due to dangerous weather conditions. They pause to listen before turning to each other, sharing an amused and worried look.
“Guess this is our stop then… May I escort you home, Ma’am?”
Robin's cheeks flush as she looks out of the window, concerned about what her boyfriend’s reaction will be if she returns with an unknown man, soaking wet. “U-uh… I-i was actually booking into a hotel.. Need to clear my head for new songs… y’know?” Boothill stares at her with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Well let me walk you to a nice and safe one, I’ve got you..”
They make a dash across town, laughing as the rain continues to fall, splashing in puddles as they talk about nothing in particular. The lights of Penacony Apartments shine above them, mingling with the soft glow of streetlights. They point out different coloured lights from the windows, making all sorts of guesses about what might be happening inside. Their laughter cuts through the cold air and wet surroundings, a moment of fleeting warmth in an otherwise stormy night.
“What about that one?” Robin points at a window with faint blue light flickering behind heavy curtains. “Someone’s probably binge-watching old movies and eating ice cream straight from the tub.”
The man chuckles, shaking water from his hair. “Nah, that’s a secret gaming den. High-stakes virtual battles, losers have to do push-ups in the rain.”
Robin rolls her eyes but laughs. “And that red one? Clearly a photographer developing prints. Something dramatic, like… I don’t know, shadows of rain-streaked windows.”
“Oh, definitely not. That’s where a mad scientist’s plotting their next big experiment. Think Frankenstein, but with robot parts.” He smirks, his voice teasing.
“You’re terrible at this game,” Robin shoots back, playfully nudging his arm. “Maybe I should’ve picked someone with a better imagination.”
“Ouch.” He clutches his chest dramatically. “Cruel, your highness. I’m just a humble knight trying to keep you entertained.”
They pause under the awning of a small bakery closed for the night, its sign swinging slightly in the wind. Rainwater cascades off the edges of the roof, creating a curtain around them.
Robin pulls off her hat, wringing it out before stuffing it back on. “Okay, last one. That green light up there.” She gestures to a corner window on the sixth floor.
He narrows his eyes in mock seriousness. “That’s easy. A botanist, nurturing a secret jungle in their apartment. They probably talk to their plants, too.”
Robin grins. “You’ve redeemed yourself. Barely.”
They continue pointing out windows, making up wild stories about the people behind the glass. A red light becomes a clandestine photography studio. A flickering yellow one—a mad scientist’s lair. The laughter they share feels out of place amid the cold rain and empty streets, but it warms them both, breaking through the damp and the dark.
For a moment, Robin forgets the weight in her chest, the texts, the looming confrontation. Here, beneath the Penacony streetlights, everything feels lighter, simpler, like the rain is washing away the heaviness of the world.
“So you’re telling me that you listen to my songs ….? You don’t really seem like a pop fan..” Robin giggles as Boothill admits a regular part of his morning routine. “Heh.. yeah, I do.. It gets me moving, y’know? That and my dau- my dog likes it, she’s one of those dogs that find music soothing..” Idle chit chat fills the air, rain forgotten as they slowly get more and more damp.
As the street lights flicker, Boothill notices the faintest of goosebumps on Robin's pale skin, immediately taking his jacket off, slinging it over her shoulders. “Keep it. I know what you ladies are like, you'd keep saying no when offered, so keep that on. Can't let an angel like you get cold out here, eh?”
Robin chuckles, Holding the jacket around her, nice and warm compared to the harsh cold of the wind and rain.
The walk continues, walking almost desperately to find a hotel or anything at this point.
“So where were you headed Mr. Boothill? Can’t be out on a rainy night like this without telling me why..” She gives a soft smile to him, wings fluttering ever so slightly.
Boothill notices the small flutter, smiling straight back at her, sharp teeth sparkling in amusement. “Well i don't visit the city all that often.. Just making arrangements and going back and forth from home with materials you can’t really find in the countryside.. Is that answer enough for ya’ princess?”
Robin nods, wanting to know more but deciding not to press too much into his personal life, having only just met that day.
Rain fills the streets as footsteps approach a hotel, water rushing into the overflowing drains, clogged with leaves and litter, struggling to prevent flooding. The sound of rushing water and their hurried breaths mix with the steady downpour.
“Here you go, Princess. You’ll be safe here, I reckon. I doubt you’ll need money to get a room. But if you ever need me, just give me a call. My number’s on the tag of my jacket there. I hope I can see you again someday,” he says, his voice rough but sincere.
Robin nods, a small smile gracing her face. “I hope so too. I’ll message you. And if I’m a princess, I’ll call you my knight.” She giggles softly, her laugh barely audible over the rain, but to Boothill, even the smallest sound could linger in his mind for years to come.
She turns toward the hotel entrance, pausing under the awning as she glances back one last time. He’s already stepping away, his figure disappearing into the rain-soaked streets. The door slides open, and warmth envelops her as she steps inside. But even in the safety of the hotel, the storm within her remains, her thoughts swirling with unanswered questions and the weight of what lies ahead.