Chapter Text
In the kingdom of the Afterglow Savannah, there were many stories worth telling that ended up becoming statistics. The tragedies of children—little Icarus's whose only mistakes were being just a tad too curious, became an addition to the homicide rate. Women and men alike, desperate and stripped of places to go, became additions to the percentage of black-market economic activity.
But even they, the pitiable few seen as naught but fodder for stories used to tell children to be grateful, were not the bottom echelons of society. There were those underneath, a pitiable sort, seen as not even worth being a statistic.
The squatter settlements of the nation were cramped and grim, death camps in plain sight. They were packed with people who the nation did not see as people—starved and desperate to survive. Some turned to crime. Others to hunger suppressants and working countless jobs. And many did both. Smart ones. Those who did neither usually perished.
An average citizen would see very little of them. Mostly, they would be treated to the occasional still image panning over a sanitized version of the area, some shallowly emotional music playing as a news reporter drawled out something about gratitude. Occasionally, even, a video of someone giving out food to children in some vaguely impoverished area that was not actually the slums—not like anyone could truly tell the difference.
The slums were simply not a thing to be brought up. The very backwater of society, a place not even included in most statistics, a forbidden word of sorts.
No one spoke of the hyenas of the slums. No one spoke to the hyenas of the slums.
But, of course, someone did.
The Afterglow Savannah despised their second prince. Many from outside the country found it laughable, the idea that an entire country would so greatly despise a child. A boy with long brown hair and bright green eyes, a sight for sore eyes with wits sharp as a tack. He liked chess, as many children did, and sports.
Of course, that was not what the papers talked about. The papers only spoke of a ticking time bomb, a nasty scar on the eye and a terrifying scowl, ready to explode and turn the world itself into nothing but a pile of sand. Though he was but a child, he too was the sort whose name was not to be spoken, an urban legend more than a member of the youth.
So who better to cross paths with one of those shunned by the nation than the prince who could join them in their commiseration?
"Prince Leona," huffed an attendant, a permanent look of disgust etched upon his face. "Please, be careful with who you speak to."
Of course, the prince did not heed these warnings. For the prince had no reverence for any of the staff members who spoke ill of him behind his back. He was curious, as all children were. And while the curiosity of the aforementioned poor children became statistics, the curiosity of the loathed second prince became an incident for the papers.
He stood, staring out at the miserable sight from his locked tight carriage. Dirt and blood and sweat scented the area, pungent and overwhelming. A child in a tattered shirt, skin tightly wrapped around the bones.
The child, younger by a good few years, locked eyes with him.
And then he moved closer, staring at the second prince with his hands cupped out.
"Please, sir, do you have anything to spare?"
The prince could only stare back for a second, conflict within his eyes, before a guard marched over, dragging the child away.
"Don't make eye contact," muttered a servant in disgust. "Those damned hyenas. You give them a scrap, they take the whole meal."
The prince only scoffed in non-verbal objection.
It was a simple encounter at first sight. But of course, it didn't end there.
After the visit, back in the palace, the prince stumbled upon that very hyena boy, locked in a dim cell.
The hyena was not looking at him. But still, the prince must have felt some guilt for the little boy's situation.
"There's a hidden exit near the bottom left corner," he said. "No one knows about it but me. If you go in around five minutes, there won't be anyone there to keep watch. They all go on a snack break.".
The hyena boy looked up at him at last, eyes scrutinizing.
"Why are you telling me this?" He asked. "You want something?"
"It is partially my fault you ended up here."
And then, for a few seconds, the hyena boy looked up and down, gauging. And then, he relaxed.
"Don't blame yourself," he said. "I knew this would happen."
The second prince stared, confused.
"You know?" He said. "Then why'd you do it?"
The hyena guffawed. His laugh was a curious thing, all air and no voice, almost like the sound made by a spray bottle.
"Sorry, sorry," he said after calming down, though he didn't sound particularly apologetic. "Pshhht. Why'd you do it," he snickered. "That's why!"
"Because… you'd get captured?" Asked the second prince, trying to make reason of the little hyena boy's logic.
"Because they let their guard down when they go to capture you," said the hyena boy. "And that's the perfect chance to take that shiny jewelry riiiight off their hands."
The prince did not respond.
"Surprised?" He said. The prince shook his head.
"It seems obvious in hindsight."
"Yeah, most stuff is," said the hyena. "'Sides, do you really think anyone with half a brain would actualy expect a prince to give 'em money?"
The lion prince shook his head.
"Why'd you tell me all that?" He asked. "Would've saved you a lotta trouble to stay quiet and leave."
The boy just looked off, out the tiny little barred window.
"'Cause you're like me, Leona-san," he said. "Seems like we live worlds apart, but one thing's the same."
"What?"
"This whole kingdom turned its back on us," said the hyena boy. "So we won't have any problem turnin' our back on it as well."
The prince stayed silent, looking down forlornly.
"Welp, looks like it's been five minutes," said the hyena, squinting at the prince's watch. "Gotta go! See ya!"
"You probably won't," replied the prince easily, watching as the hyena scampered under the hidden doorway.
But perhaps, he thought in the most private recesses of his mind, it would not be so bad if they met again.
Night Raven College was nothing like the Afterglow Savannah, Leona thought. A meritocracy through and through. Status and family were irrelevant here. What mattered was skill, effort, cunning.
If the world were like Night Raven, he thought, he could most certainly be king.
After all, even someone born in the worst possible circumstances could go far places here. Who was to say he, with his merit, couldn't rise up one single rank?
"Your dinner, Leona-san!" Case in point, his second. Ruggie Bucchi—a kid from the slums. His magic was middling, and so was his strength. But he was smart, and he had a chip on his shoulder. That was how he got to be the Savannaclaw dorm's de-facto number-two.
"Ugh," Leona muttered intelligently.
Ruggie tossed a pillow at him.
"Wake. Up." Yet another pillow was tossed for emphasis. "I didn't fight through the line just for you to not even look at the food!"
"Go away," Leona muttered. Ruggie scowled.
"You're really puttin' me through the wringer, you know," he said, before a dangerous sort of look crossed his face that signalled he had an idea. A very annoying one.
"Don't me so moody, Leona-san!" Ruggie said, face suddenly brightened, as he snickered. "See? I'm laughin'! You should, too! Why don't you-"
"Nope," Leona said, blocking the spell. "Not happening."
Ruggie pouted.
"Aw man," he said. "You're no fun."
"Yeah, yeah. Try again when you've got more power," he said, and Ruggie just tittered mockingly. "'Try again when you've got more power, Ruggie,'" he imitated. "You sound like some sort of wise old man."
"Tch."
"I'll definitely get you one of these days," said Ruggie. "I swear."
"Yeah, yeah."
But then Leona straightened.
"You had a good reason for wakin' me, right?" It was a question. He knew exactly why Ruggie was here.
But playing coy could be pretty fun sometimes.
Ruggie snickered, pulling out a little sheet of paper from under his coat.
"I got the paper," he said. "Our headmaster's oh-so fairly selected matchups."
"Who're we up against?"
But at that, all the enthusiasm vanished from Ruggie's eyes, expression going sullen. Damnit. He knew what this meant.
"Diasomnia. Round one." Ruggie didn't bother continuing, because there was no point. It didn't matter what came after if they just got bodied the first round.
Ruggie sighed.
"It is what it is," he said, before batting his next to non-existent eyelashes at Leona. "Unless a certain lion Prince could bribe our headmaster into changing the matchups before they're announced?"
A bribe. To the headmaster. It was something that could just work, he thought.
But even if it did, wasn't that like tucking his tail between his legs and running away?
"Absolutely not," Leona huffed. "I'd rather get bodied by Malleus than beg for a reassignment."
Ruggie frowned at him.
"Negotiate, Leona-san, negotiate," he said. "Y'know? Barterin' for what you want?"
He pulled out a sheet of paper, scribbling on it furiously.
"Look," he said. "Idia-san makes it clear he just wants to get the game over with. Pair him up with Diasomnia. People'll come for Malleus anyways, and none of the attention'll be on the Ignihyde kids for their elimination game. He'll like that."
With a flourish, he drew out the brackets.
"Octavinelle's go up against 'em second—after a match with Scarabia. Jamil-kun'll get to take his anger at Azul-kun out on on the Octavinelle kids, and those twins'll get a chance to show off. Azul'll be happy since he won't have to deal with sports-talk for too long, everyone's happy."
"I can see it all in the chart," Leona said. "You don't have to spell it all out."
Savannaclaw was pitted up last against Diasomnia in Ruggie's little revision. Of course.
"So?" Ruggie asked. "Whaddya say?"
But the answer remained, no matter how satisfactory the new chart seemed. "Absolutely not," said Leona. "You know I don't beg."
Ruggie inhaled sharply.
"Try my plan," he said. "It's not the beggin' you think it is. I have some pride too, shishi."
"Ruggie-"
"You're not the only one in this dorm, y'know," Ruggie said. "And a lot of us're way worse off than you, Leona-san. Gettin' a scholarship's our best shot at somethin' better."
His voice was easygoing—it always was—but the question underlying remained, steadfast and strong.
Are you really going to throw away our dormmate's futures over your pride?
"Whatever," he said. "I'll try it if it gets you to stop yammerin'. Now go get me another sandwich."
"I-I-" Ruggie didn't even bother to get smug over his little victory, too busy stammering indignantly. "Do you seriously think they have any left, Leona-san?"
"Don't care. Steal it or somethin'."
"You are so—!"
He chuckled to himself. Maybe his sharp-tongued right-hand had a point. This could just work out.
"No."
"No?"
It was almost impossible to believe. Dire Crowley, the birdbrained headmage of Night Raven College, rejecting a bribe.
"What do you mean?" Leona said. "Would it really be that inconvenient to set up an arrangement where everyone is happy? Would you like more, ah, compensation, for your time?"
But the birdbrain only smiled.
"I'm afraid no amount of money can make me change my mind on this," said the headmage. "I am a principled man, you see. I cannot simply go around compromising my ideals for money!"
Bull. Shit.
"You completely sure about that?" Leona said. "Nothing can make you change your mind?"
"Nothing at all."
Why was the birdbrain choosing now of all times to develop a set of principles? This made no goddamn sense!
"Draconia bribed you or somethin'?" he said, even though the answer was obvious. He hated Malleus, sure, but the other thought nothing of him. He was insignificant, dirt that was not worth putting the extra effort to purposefully trample. After all, no one deliberately aimed to crush the ground they walked upon.
It was just collateral damage. Of living.
His fists clenched; claws digging into the fragile skin of his palm.
"Now that's quite a rude accusation to make!" said the birdbrain. "My word, Kingscholar, have you never heard of propriety?"
"I have," he said. "Have you ever heard of probability?"
The birdbrain went eerily still, tilting his head almost robotically. Leona remembered exactly why he hated the man, with that stupid mask and transparently ingratiating demeanor. They said eyes were the window to the soul—but, underneath the mask, the birdbrain's likely just looked the same as they did now. Beady, lifeless little things.
"What do you mean by that, Kingscholar?" His voice lacked any of its usual flair. Suspicious.
"One out of seven," Leona said. "That's the chance of us being matched against Diasomnia."
He sucked in a breath.
"Three years, now, Leona continued, slowly, almost condescendingly. "One-Seventh to the third power. One out of three-hundred and forty-three."
"Yes, it is rather unlikely," said Crowley.
"And specifically since that damned lizard joined, too," he said. "Since competing against them became impossible."
"Are you attempting to say something, Kingscholar?"
"What's your goal here?" Leona said. "You did this on purpose. What do you want?"
He expected the birdbrain to solicit a different bribe—an artifact, maybe, or information, anything that Leona could actually give.
He didn't expect the man to just laugh.
"I," he said. "Would like you to stop reading so deeply into things, Kingscholar!"
"I'm not-"
"Clear your head a little," said the birdbrain. "Go, ah, sleep. I'm certain your dormmates will be fine without you."
What a poorly integrated attempt at a jab.
"Speaking of dormmates," he continued. "Have you reconsidered picking out a vice housewarden?"
Leona scoffed.
"'Course not," he said. There was no point in selecting one.
"Are you certain?" said the birdbrain. "That Bucchi boy seems more than suited for the position." But then he shrugged. "Ah, but I suppose there's no point. The boy will likely be unable to perform his duties while doing all he can to feed himself."
So that was his goal here. Aim at his second like it was some sort of weak spot.
Well, too bad, because Leona didn't care enough for something like that to affect him. The relationship he and Ruggie had was that of pure give and take.
"Don't talk about him like that behind his back," said Leona. "Hasn't anyone told you it's not nice?"
"I only meant to share my reasoning, Kingscholar!" said the birdbrain, back to his old ways. "But if your feelings are hurt, I, as your headmage, shall be the bigger person and magnanimously apologize."
Tch. What a waste of space.
"I'm leavin'," huffed Leona, stepping aside. There was nothing more to be gained from this conversation.
"Farewell, Kingscholar!" chirped the damn birdbrain, like he hadn't just crumbled their dorm's chances of getting any athletic scholarships.
Of course, Leona thought. Why had he even bothered?
No one listened to the second prince's baseless opinions on these things. No one cared for the no-good Savannaclaw dormhead's opinions.
Damn Ruggie's little idea.
He had been in a sort of mood for the entire day. Others had noticed, he could tell. Whispers of how "Leona-san is about to snap" certainly didn't evade his ears. Times like these were when he almost wished he didn't have the hearing of a beastman—maybe it would've been better if he just didn't know what they were saying.
During lunch, Ruggie came to him, as casually as ever, bringing that new Premium Curry Bowl they'd added to the menu. It was good enough.
"You look awful mad, Leona-san," said Ruggie, and Leona half wanted to say a pointed 'Your fault'. Perhaps it was immature. He didn't care.
"Your plan failed," Leona said. "Real miserably."
Ruggie raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as he leaned in, hushing his voice.
"Why?" he asked. "I was so sure the birdbrain would jump at the chance to make a few extra bucks for somethin' so easy..."
Leona scoffed.
"Well, he didn't," he said. "He turned us right down without a problem. Real annoyin'. Probably made me look stupid, too."
In this school, showing weakness was the highest form of stupidity. Desperation, kindness, sore spots, all the equivalent of just begging for natural selection to do its job. Students were drawn to it like a shark to blood in the water, and the headmage was just like them, if not worse.
And he'd just bared a slew of weak spots to the headmage so obvious he may as well have been waving a neon flag.
"Hey," Ruggie said. "Can't be that bad."
Leona growled.
"You know what happens when you show weakness in Night Raven," he said. Ruggie shrugged. He always did—resilient little scavenger; the type of person who could almost get killed and just walk it off, joking about the insane medical bills. Leona still didn't quite know how he felt about that. Heroes were resilient. So were cockroaches.
"Determination is a morally neutral quality," he remembered that radish sprout saying. "You can use it for good or for evil. Do whatever it takes to get a happy ending or slaughter everyone in droves. Or you can just waste everyone's time, doing the same thing over and over again like a maniac."
Of course, the radish sprout had been talking about some video game with some skeleton with a glowing eye or whatever, so maybe his little spiel wasn't the best source of intellectual reflection.
"He already knows we don't like the match-up," Ruggie said. "What's the harm in sayin' it to his face?"
"We begged for him to go easy on us," Leona hissed in reply. But Ruggie remained chipper, snatching a piece of chicken from the curry bowl.
"I wouldn't say that," Ruggie said. "Magishift's a game of wits, right?"
He snatched another piece of chicken. He was damn lucky Leona knew how much he needed to get some meat on his bones.
"We just took it a step further," he continued. "No one else had the foresight to snatch the list like that. No one else even considered improvin' their odds by just interferin' with the matchups. Instead of trying to beat our opponents on the field, we took the game away from it. I've got sticky fingers and you've got a sharp tongue. We've both gotta put those skills to use, riiiight?"
And at those words, the seeds of an idea were planted within his head. Ruggie had a point, he thought. He was playing at a massive disadvantage here—it was only right for him to do whatever he could to even the playing field. After all, prey didn't play fair and just laze around until they were being hunted. They evolved, learned to maim and run well before any predator could possibly catch them. The predators, too, played the same. Saving one's action for the night of the chase was just asking to be eaten.
It was only right for him to do the same. To strike before the matchups had even been announced. If he didn't… did he even really want to win?
A pre-emptive strike was exactly what this little errand to steal the list had been. It hadn't been entirely fruitful, but it still bore some results. Now, Leona knew that they were going to be playing against Diasomnia the first round again. He knew exactly what sort of effort he'd need to prepare.
Maybe it was time to take things a step further.
But how?
"I'm still hungry," Leona said. "Get me somethin' from Sam's."
He tossed his wallet. Admittedly, Leona wasn't actually hungry, but knowing Ruggie, he'd buy something for himself to eat as well. And that was what he truly wanted—after all, it was hard to scheme on an empty stomach.
"Seriously, Leona-san?" muttered Ruggie, ears flattened. "You don't mind if I get myself somethin' right?"
"Yeah, yeah," Leona said. "Bring the food to my room. 'S place is gettin' too loud to nap in."
He wasn't technically lying. The botanical gardens were getting far too loud for an adequate nap.
"You really are spoiled," Ruggie quipped, though he laughed. Ruggie had a very distinctive laugh, one that sounded kind of like an air freshener. No voice, all breath.
"Welp," he said, holding up Leona's wallet. "See ya."
And then Ruggie was off. It was time to get to planning.
Really, he knew how intelligent he was. Genius unparalleled, that was what the people of the palace said all the time. Their sole compliment towards the ever-loathed second prince, even that usually attaching itself to some sort of insult. A genius like him could certainly do so much better than this if he just tried, they said. There was no reason to trust that someone with his intellect wasn't lying when he said he didn't have any ill intent.
So this should've been easy. Coming up with something.
But at the worst possible time, his mind betrayed him.
Tch. How troublesome.
Jack Howl was a boy with a broad-stature, angry eyes, and a personality to match those wolf-like ears of his. Fiery, sharp, prickly—until he found someone he respected, then he was all poorly concealed excitement and a mish-mash of principles, golden eyes gleaming almost like that of a child. He was strong, diligent, and had often underlooked sharp wits; traits unfortunately negated in their usefulness by the massive stick up his ass.
So when he saw Leona marching over to his room with a look of concentration, of course he immediately pounced.
"Leona-senpai," he said. His tail was wagging; of course his tail was wagging, what else did Leona expect? "You're thinking quite diligently. Is something on your mind?"
Leona sighed. He was not telling the frosh about this. He wasn't telling anyone but his second, in fact. Not until he had a plan he was sure could succeed.
"I was just thinking of possible Magishift strategies," he said truthfully. "In case we get matched up against Diasomnia first round again. Even if we don't, it's still important to prepare."
He paused, observing the way Jack's already excited expression brightened even further. The boy really did seem to admire him. How foolish. To admire someone you knew so little about. He knew the kid would feel completely different if he knew what Leona was truly like. The poorly concealed excitement replaced by disgust, praises replaced by condemnation.
"After all, waiting until the last minute is just asking to fail," he finished at last. Jack nodded fervently.
"Wise as always, Leona-senpai," he said. Leona barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Leona said. Jack nodded hastily.
"Of- Of course it is," he said. "I should've been more perceptive."
"Too lazy to make the trek back to your room now, Leona-san?" It was the slightly coarse, high-pitched voice of his right-hand man, carrying a heap of snacks.
Jack's demeanor immediately turned annoyed, ears flattened and tail gone still. Ruggie, if he noticed—which of course he had, perceptive little scavenger—didn't react, only setting the food down next to Leona.
It was very, very interesting to him, in a way that not many things were, the way the freshman seemed to find astonishing ways to misinterpret the way things worked in Savannaclaw. It was also incredibly frustrating. Howl had gotten a little idea in his head. And if Ruggie's ideas were usually mildly annoying little plans to tease Leona, Jack's ideas were something far more painful to deal with, a gap in education that would take ages to fix. He was a privileged thing—solidly middle class, never shunned by the world in the way Leona and Ruggie both had been, and ultimately gifted with both love and comfort by the circumstances of his birth. He simply didn't understand the way someone without these privileges would think, and maybe he never would.
"Ruggie-senpai," Jack said flatly. "What are you doing with Leona-senpai's wallet?"
"I nabbed it right from his pockets, shishishi," Ruggie joked, and it was honestly kind of funny how Jack stiffened at that, ready to speak up on the perceived injustice. "Kidding~! Man, you really had a scary look on your face there, Jack-kun…"
And this was exactly why Jack disliked him. The boy, born from the Shaftlands, possesed none of the imprinted distaste for hyenas that those from the Savannah did when dealing with Ruggie, egalitarian in his mindset, but with the way the little scavenger seemed to tease him with these sort of things—it was really inevitable.
"Leona-san gave it to me of his own accord so I could buy food for him. Of course, I bought something for myself as well!"
Jack shook his head disapprovingly.
"You should really ask for permission first with these things, Ruggie-senpai," he said. "I'm sure he would've happily let you!"
Not happily, but he had. In fact, the whole point of this endeavor had been to make Ruggie eat something so they could more effectively plan. But of course, Ruggie didn't bother to tell Jack that, all too keen to let him fuel his own misunderstandings.
A few onlookers stared at them, entirely unsurprisingly. Ruggie snickered, setting the food down on the couch, right next to where Leona stood.
"The temerity," he murmured, something akin to offense poorly plastered onto his words. "I think I should fight you right now for my honor, Jack-kun! Winner gets to keep Leona's wallet. Or, uh, give it back to him, since that's what you're into. Whaddya say?"
"Stop teasing the freshman," Leona said, though his words were only met with a wink.
Jack stiffened, but then he nodded.
"If you want to fight me, I won't back down," he said. Must've sounded real cool in his head.
Now the others in the common room were gawking at them. The second-in-command fighting some freshman?
Jack tried to remain stoic despite all the stares, but his tail, swishing anxiously, gave him away. Ruggie seriously needed to stop teasing the poor kid.
Speaking of, the little scavenger seemed at ease, completely unbothered by everyone's staring.
"I have a lot of experience out on the streets, y'know," he said. Leona wondered if Jack realized just what that statement meant—that Ruggie was talking about brutal clashes in the name of survival rather than some little spats as a delinquent. Probably not. Shaftlands kids were always sheltered. "Do you really wanna see the way I fight?"
Jack nodded, resolute, not even noticing what Ruggie was doing. Leona had, a few others as well, if their snickers were anything to go by.
"Alright!" Ruggie started, all too chipper. "Rule one of fighting out in the real world—"
Jack went to take out his magic-pen, only to realize it wasn't there. Ruggie smirked, pulling out his prize and waving it for Jack to see.
"Don't," he said, before bursting into a cackling fit. "Shishishi, did you really think I was actually gonna fight you? You're, what, twice my size!"
He continued, slowly, relishing in the way the poor little frosh squirmed in annoyance. How rude.
It wasn't nice to play with one's food. Didn't Ruggie always get on his case for that?
"Buuuut," Ruggie continued, "honorable little Jack-kun would never start a physical fight on campus, right? Since that's against the rules and all…"
"You—!"
"Since I have your magic-pen, you don't really have any other options," Ruggie said. "How about this: You admit I won, and I'll give it back to you. Sounds fair?"
Jack looked at Ruggie, then at the magic-pen in his hand, but he didn't relent.
"That was cheating," he said. "Any win you might've gotten is null and void."
Ruggie just rolled his eyes.
"So stubborn, Jack-kun!" he said. "I'll make the deal for you, then."
"I'm not taking that pen back," Jack said. "Not until you find a way to carry out this fight fair and square."
"Too bad it's already in your pocket then, hmm?"
Jack felt the inside of his pocket, gasping.
"How-"
"Call it sticky hands," Ruggie said, walking up to Leona's side shamelessly, slipping the wallet back into his pocket. He looked at Leona pleadingly, silently asking him to play along. Leona shook his head, but his resolve quickly crumbled. Damned puppy eyes. Too convincing.
"He would've given it back anyways," Leona said. "He just wanted to mess with you first. You really oughta take things more seriously, Ruggie."
Ruggie beamed, both to mess with Jack and due to the fact that Leona had obliged his silent request.
"I was just teaching him a very valuable lesson, Leona-san!" he said. Jack scoffed.
"That wasn't a lesson," he said. "Just a poor attempt at hazing."
"But it was!" Ruggie said. "Rule number one of surviving in this dorm: Always watch your back!"
What a lesson that was, Leona thought. Bound to go right over Jack's head.
It was still a very enlightening altercation, though. Jack, perceptive, sharp-of-senses Jack, hadn't even noticed as he'd been made to give up and consequently take back his own magic pen. Ruggie's magic was weak, sure, but in a way, that was its strength. It was subtle. With two names— Fools' Parade and Laugh With Me, and an essentially nonexistent magic signature, even someone like Rook Hunt wouldn't notice when it was being cast, let alone who was casting it. Just a brief feeling of being unable to control oneself that could be easily dismissed as losing balance.
It could be useful, he thought.
And so that seed of an idea germinated.
"Seriously, stop wasting your time teasing the frosh and come back to my room," Leona said. "And bring the food."
"Yeah, yeah, Leona-san," Ruggie said. "I'm on it."
Ruggie came in, a sleazy little smile etched upon his face, licking his lips like the cat that caught the canary. Tossing a bag of premium beef jerky at Leona, he quickly took to devouring the chicken wings he'd bought himself. With each bite, he attacked the bone of the chicken, crunching into it like an herbivore would carrots.
It was fascinating, honestly, the capabilities of the jaw of a scavenger. His own bite force was strong enough, but it wouldn't be enough for something like that. He wouldn't ever need to do something like that, in fact. Why waste effort on marrow when he could just have the meat instead?
"Do I have somethin' on my face, or is there some other reason you're starin' like that, Leona-san?" Ruggie asked, mouth full of ground up bone and marrow.
Leona raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Blood," he said. Ruggie sighed, licking it away.
"The way you said it makes me sound like I'm some kinda serial killer, y'know," Ruggie said. "Can't a guy eat his chicken wings in peace?"
"You're the one who asked," replied Leona simply. "If you're going to chew through bones like that, don't be surprised when you end up lookin' like a serial killer. There's blood in 'em."
"I know that," Ruggie said, before scrutinizing the still uneaten beef jerky. "You were the one who asked me to get that food. Eat it."
"Don't feel like it," Leona said, met with a roll of the eyes.
"Well," Ruggie said. "Whaddya really want? You're not sleeping, and you didn't actually want the food, so…"
Perceptive as ever. That was what Leona liked about him.
"What're you planning, Leona-san?"
Leona smirked. But then, the memory of his own failure to actually come up with something wiped that smirk right off his face.
"Strategy," he said," "for Magishift. Pre-emptive strikes against the competition."
Ruggie's cloudy eyes gleamed, intrigue coloring his movement as he stepped closer.
"You've got my attention now," he said. "Tell me more."
"You'll see soon enough," Leona said, and Ruggie scowled.
"You're just saying that because you still haven't made a concrete plan yet, aren't ya'?"
On second thought, that perceptiveness could be very, very painful.
Ruggie cackled, grabbing his sides and doubling over like he'd just seen the funniest thing of his life.
"Oh- that's rich!" he said. "You, Leona-san, you haven't made a plan yet? What happened to that brain of yours?"
"Shut your trap," Leona groaned, though to his own chagrin, he couldn't muster up any bite in his words. So instead, he challenged, "I'd like to see you do any better."
Ruggie's good mood quickly dampened.
"Come on," he said. "You know I don't have the power for somethin' like that."
"Exactly," Leona said.
But power had been the only objection raised. He wasn't complaining about a lack of intellectual ability, or will, no. Leona knew his second possessed both those things in droves. He mentioned 'power'.
And so the germinated seed was watered.
"Then you may as well help instead of just laughin'," Leona said, and Ruggie seemed to oblige.
"Alright then," he said. "Lay it all out. What've you got so far?"
They talked into the night. It was admittedly not unpleasant conversation, yes, but still—
Not a single viable idea?! Was he getting sick or something?
The tale of the great Lion King was a hotly debated one among the academics of the Afterglow Savannah. Though most outside had a firm and decided story of a hero who saved the poor hyenas and brought equality to the kingdom, the country itself contested the tale. There were simply too many holes in it, people said. If King Scar had really brought the hyenas to great status, why was their populace currently cramped into squatter settlements?
Ultimately, a theory had been formed to both explain this discrepancy and that of the great king's untimely demise. Of course, there were other unresolved questions, and this theory too was highly scrutinized, but it was a fairly popular one, well believed. The hyenas, ungrateful for what they'd received from the king, revolted, ganging up on him and subsequently eating him alive. As punishment for their terrible behavior, the next king had exiled them, stripping them of their newfound power and wealth, in fact, leaving them with an even lower status than before. And that was why the hyenas lived as they currently did. The sins of their ancestors, to be beared on their shoulders.
Leona wasn't quite sure how to feel about the theory. There was some evidence to support it, yes, but a lot of it reeked of conjecture, and spite as well, as if the academics were first and foremost trying to rationalize the brutal conditions a considerable portion of their population were forced to endure and uncover the truths of history second.
His younger self, all too naive and under the impression that justice could be achieved if one only tried, had asked about it. Why was everyone so quick to believe that theory? Was there any direct mention of such a thing happening in historical records? Even so, why was the immediate conclusion that every single one of the hyenas was just ungrateful? Why had it been easier for the scholars to immediately assume that an entire populace was inherently flawed than to consider the issue may have simply been with the king's rule?
They had all immediately been shot down, these questions, met with nothing but grumbles about how typical it was of the irreverent second prince to disrespect the wise king.
But much less frustratingly, moreso intriguingly, he recalled asking a hyena boy about it. Frail, scrawny kid, with a penchant for getting himself arrested for the sake of stealing valuables off the guards. When asked whether it was really worth it, the kid just smiled and joked that the prison's living conditions were more comfortable than the ones in his home.
And he liked the interpretation.
"I like it," he explained. "The idea that I got here because my ancestors didn't take anything they didn't like lying down. Better than the slop about poor hyena kids."
"But doesn't it bother you?" Leona had asked. "The idea that you were all the villain in the story? That your kind somehow 'deserved' it all?"
The kid just shrugged.
"Better a villain than some poor little victim," he said. "I'll be just like 'em—if any king tries to rally me to his side only to screw me over, you bet I'm taking a big bite right outta his carcass."
And the kid laughed, and Leona had as well. But the words, the essence of them, had lingered for quite some time. Was it really better to be viewed as a villain than a victim? If the palace staff looked upon him with pity, a poor little boy harmed by his lineage and powers out of his control, would that really be worse than being looked upon with fear and disgust as he currently was?
Years had tempered his pride into a formidable beast, capable of answering that question for him. Yes. It was most certainly worse. Because no matter how isolating it was, the perpetual view of the evil, scheming second prince afforded him respect. Dignity. It painted him as someone to be feared, someone capable and strong. It was far better than pity, dripping with gentle condescension and poorly hidden distaste or disregard. When feared, he was grand. Larger than life and haunting. With pity, he was barely so much as an insect, a silly little creature futilely struggling against life's cage.
He wondered, if he asked again, what that little scavenger would say.
"Get up, Leona-san," Ruggie said, hair noticeably disheveled. "We spent too long talking yesterday. I fell asleep in your room."
They must've fallen asleep around the same time, then, because Leona didn't recall noticing that.
"It's gonna look so scandalous," he crooned. "Me, coming out of your room, looking aaall ruffled up."
"It won't be," replied Leona. "It's a normal thing at this point. They'll probably just think you were up doin' chores."
Ruggie paused for a second, trying to come up with a retort to no avail.
"Well," he said. "We still couldn't come up with anything. Maan, that was pointless. We probably looked so stupid, kicking our feet and giggling like middle-schoolers at one of those slumber party things that book I nabbed from your shelf was talkin' about."
"Maybe you did," Leona said. "But I didn't. And slumber parties are an actual thing."
Ruggie raised an eyebrow.
"Why would you want to share a house with a bunch of people who aren't in your clan?"
"Because you like 'em."
But his words didn't seem to get through. Ruggie, like Jack, had his fair share of gaps in knowledge that needed repair. It wasn't the inevitable consequences of not being able to afford to be well read or anything of the sort, but something that had nothing to do with his background. An inevitable outcome of pride; a worldview where licking someone's boots was more honorable than asking for five dollars. He failed to understand that sometimes, people did stupid things in the name of companionship, finding comfort in others outside of their pack.
Hyenas were cliquey by nature. In fact, so much so, that it was common for people to assume they were matriarchal, simply due to the fact that the males were usually the ones to leave the clan to mate—usually ending up at the bottom of whatever new one they joined.
And maybe it was in part due to that that Ruggie simply couldn't understand the concept of going out of your way for someone outside of your clan.
Leona had tried to offer him food directly, he recalled, upon hearing his stomach growl like some sort of monster. His offer had been met with a derision-filled look, plastered smile as the little scavenger said a condescending "Sorry, but I don't take handouts, Leona-san." It was a pain, offering up anything that wasn't for some goal that ultimately serviced them both. Of course, Leona had quickly managed to figure out ways to give things while evading that pride of his.
A trade of power for the ultimate good of them both.
…The idea grew, developing a bud.
"Why're you staring at me, Leona-san?" Ruggie said, a nervous little cackle escaping his lips.
"No reason," he said, before pointing to a stack of papers on the table. "Go bring these to the Cephalopunk. Magishift paperwork. "
"You got it!" Ruggie said, humming the Elephant Graveyard lullaby to himself as he left the room.
A few minutes later, Leona's stomach growled. Damnit. He should've told Ruggie to get him some food while he was at it.
There was that beef jerky there, the one from yesterday. He devoured it. Still not enough. He was still hungry.
Couldn't his damned stomach have given the signal just a little bit earlier, when Ruggie was still in the room?
Whatever. For once, it seemed like he'd have to go get his own food. Sure, he could get someone else to run the errand, but he never knew when they'd tamper with it. This was Night Raven, after all.
And so he stood up. It'd been a while since he'd gotten his own food. But, eh.
How hard could it be?
As it turned out, there was a very good reason he and Ruggie had that arrangement of theirs, because getting food was very hard.
Not because the task itself was a complex one, no, but because it seemed like suddenly every student in the entire school and then some had something to bother him about.
"Make yourself more presentable in public," Vil had huffed, before proceeding to give him a five minute lecture on cleanliness and organization. Rook got on his tail about the thrill of the chase or whatever.
Leona considered keeping himself motivated with the thought of a meal. Then he remembered that he wasn't that desperate, and that the school's food was mediocre anyways.
So he gave up, and decided to just go tell Ruggie to cook him something. At least Ruggie could make something that actually tasted good.
He'd just have to stay away from the VIP Room. If it turned out Ruggie was in there, he'd just wait.
To Octavinelle. The thought filled him with no enthusiasm, but it was better than getting hassled by everyone and anyone to have ever lived.
And so he went through the mirror, and into the lounge.
And thank the Seven, he didn't have to get any closer to that damned cephalopunk, because Ruggie was immediately in his line of sight.
Unfortunately, Azul Lackey Number Two was there as well.
"This is a draaag," he said. "You should cover my shift, Kobanzame-chan! I'll give you the money or somethin'. Doesn't that seem fair?"
Ruggie laughed nervously.
"No can do, Floyd-kun," he said, "I love gettin' an easy job and all, but Leona-san's definitely expecting me back by now."
That was a lie. He was just uncomfortable. Strange. Ruggie usually had no problem playing along with the Cephalopunk and his lackeys.
And did Ruggie use him as an excuse whenever someone asked him to do something he didn't want to do?
…Probably.
But he was right this time.
"Ruggie," Leona said. "I'm hungry. Make me somethin' to eat."
Ruggie stared at him like he was some sort of deity, a silent 'thankyouthankyouthankyou' in his eyes.
And immediately, he leapt back, attaching himself to Leona's side like a tick.
"Heeeey there, Leona-san!" Ruggie said. "I'll get right to it. Sorry, Floyd-kun, real great to see you. Gotta go!"
Azul Lackey Number Two burst into cackles.
"Somethin' wrong, Floyd-kun?" Ruggie asked.
But he just kept laughing, mood completely flipped, as if he'd just seen the funniest sight of his life. Pausing briefly, he wiped a tear of mirth from his eye.
"Ahah! Look at you," he said. "You really are like a sharksucker, huh? Clinging onto Todo-senpai like that—"
And then he started laughing again. Ruggie's eye twitched.
"We oughta get going, right?" he said. "I mean, I know you don't like to wait."
Leona didn't know why he let Ruggie project his own wants onto him like this, but eh.
"Put grilled eel in the food," he said. "I'm in the mood for seafood now."
Somehow, that only seemed to make Floyd laugh harder; he doubled over, clutching his sides as they left.
"Just bring the food to the botanical garden," Leona said. Ruggie nodded, ears noticeably flattened.
Something was on his mind.
More importantly, Leona's idea was almost ready to blossom.
Ruggie came back with a meal that somehow managed to make the smell of moray appetizing, an uncanny sort of talent. It was perfectly cooked, seasoned with a mishmash of whatever kitchen ingredients were available that somehow managed to compliment each other well.
"Your food," he said. "Good enough for your oh-so selective tastes, my Prince?"
"Don't call me that," Leona snapped. Ruggie always did like to piss him off with that one.
And of course, like the little brat he was, he just snickered.
"Did I say something to offend you, my prince?" He said. Leona rolled his eyes.
Of course.
"Brat," he muttered, and Ruggie just shrugged, irreverent as ever.
"You know me, Leona-san," he said. "At least I can mouth off to you. Man, being weak sucks. Can't even stop Rook-senpai from bein' weird. If were as strong as you, I'd do so much stuff!"
He sighed wistfully, and at last, Leona's idea blossomed.
It was a beautiful thing—A bright, delicate flower, sharp thorns underneath its many unfurling petals. Leona was never really one for appreciating, ah, 'floral beauty'; the botanical garden wasn't good for much but a napping spot, after all; but it did make for a wonderful metaphor.
"You've got a nasty little grin on your face, Leona-san," Ruggie said, as if his little smirk didn't have just as terrible implications. "What're you planning?"
"Ruggie," Leona said, eyeing the hallway through the window. "Do you know, other than Malleus—" a pause for emphasis. "—Who the strongest mage in the school is?"
"You, Leona-san," Ruggie replied easily.
"And who's the smartest student?"
"You as well, Leona-san," and then, because he was practically allergic to doling out earnest praise like that, "you proud of being a super senior or something?"
"I'm not bragging," he said, before amending, "not completely. Just stating facts."
Ruggie muttered out a "so humble, Leona-san" that admittedly drew a laugh. Still, Leona suppressed it as best he could. Best not to let the little scavenger get too cocky, after all.
"And why, exactly…?" Ruggie asked, irritation at the reminder of his weakness evident.
"Don't get all sulky," Leona said, lips quirking upward at Ruggie's stammered denials. "I'm getting somewhere with this."
"Can you get to it faster?"
"You're not powerful, Ruggie," he said, and Ruggie looked just about ready to bite into him like he had those chicken wings. It always gave him a heady sort of rush, seeing his chipper, easygoing, little second truly lose his composure. No faux-nervous little stammers, no exaggerated irritation, or little grunts of irritation. Only true and unabashed rage, animalistic instincts at the ready.
"You just got even more sulky," he said, slightly amused. Ruggie snarled.
"Are you gonna get to the point or keep showin' off?"
"Tch," he said. "You're growlin' like a wounded pup."
But he took pity, ultimately, continuing.
"But you're smart," he said. The rage dissipated, replaced with confusion. "You hide and stick to the strong, and you twist your own weakness into strength. Your Unique Magic is so undetectable no one but me even knows you have one."
"First you insult me, then you start lickin' my wounds?" Ruggie said, composure quickly back in its place. "Man, you sure are being confusing today, Leona-san."
"You just haven't understood me, yet," Leona said. "I'm saying we can cover for each other's weaknesses."
"We already do that," Ruggie said. "Do you, uh, feel alright? Need me to take you to the infirmary, Leona-san?"
"Let me finish," Leona said.
"Then stop being so slow."
Only Ruggie could mouth off so casually and not have Leona up in arms, he lamented. Why did Leona give him such a free pass again?
"There's a spell that allows a person to temporarily transfer their magical power to someone else," Leona said. "Any spell cast by the recipient of the spell draws from the magic capacity of the caster."
And finally, the little scavenger put the pieces together.
"You can't be sayin'-"
"Virtus Perhibio," he said, allowing a victorious little grin as his second gasped at the sudden influx of power. "You've got all the power you could want."
"I- you-"
"Walk with me, Ruggie," he said, standing up and stretching out his limbs. "Let's go."
"I never knew you were so-"
"Don't be so loud about it," Leona said, pressing a finger over his lips.
He let a tense silence fall between them as they left the botanical garden.
"Now show me how you use it," he said, taking in the hallway in front of them. Malleus and the annoying Diasomnia vice, next to Vil and Rook. All his least favorite people, bunched up so conveniently near his napping spot. Seemed like the Seven felt like torturing him today.
Or maybe they felt like helping him, considering the current circumstances.
"Unless all the stuff you were saying was all talk?" Leona challenged, and Ruggie shook his head, a stiffness in his shoulders.
Almost immediately, as expected, Hunt took notice of them.
"Roi de Lion!" he said, jumping up from behind them. Ruggie noticeably startled. Tch, someone seriously needed to get him glasses. Unfortunately for Leona, he still hadn't figured out a way to sneak through his pride on that one. "And Monsieur Dent De Lion!"
Leona rolled his eyes.
"How annoying" he muttered. Ruggie's ears flattened.
"Ah- shishi, Rook-san!" He said. Leona stamped on his foot. Remember your current position, Ruggie. You could easily reach him a lesson.
"I must once again thank you for your information earlier, Monsieur Dent De Lion!"
Right. Ruggie selling out his, uh, not liking vegetables. He probably could've mentioned a million worse things—it wasn't exactly like the fact he hates vegetables was even something he had to hide. But then again, Leona really ought to have just appreciated the odd brand of loyalty.
"Can we go, Leona-san?" Ruggie said, ever the coward, but Leona shook his head.
"I don't feel like leavin' yet." Come on. Let me see what the so-called king eating hyena is capable of when given the power to act.
"S-Seriously?" Don't disappoint me.
"Stop harassing beastmen, Rook," Vil said in an entirely unconcerned sort of scolding voice, before noticing exactly who the beastmen in question were. "Oh. Leona." A sharply arched brow. "I never expected to see you out. Actually doing your job for once?"
"Yeah, yeah," Leona said. "He insisted."
And speaking of the 'he' in question…
Ruggie didn't even look like he was starting to act. Leona was seriously annoyed, now. For him to entrust his second with all his power, only for the damned little scavenger to not even try to use it?
"I'm goin' to take a nap," he hissed, stepping towards a corner. "Don't bother me."
Vil rolled his eyes, not that Leona was particularly concerned about it. His ire was entirely focused on his second.
"W-Wait! Let me join you- Leona-san-!"
But Leona had made a show of snoring, and Rook had taken the opportunity to entrap Ruggie in some sort of oddly specific ramble about hyena tails with a vaguely threatening undertone.
Leona watched from afar, eye barely open as to not blow his cover, admittedly taking some satisfaction in Ruggie's suffering. If he wasn't going to act with the power he was given, he may as well suffer the consequences.
Five minutes later, Vil, who had previously been occupied with some stupid post or whatever, finally motioned for Rook to come back.
"You've wasted enough time," he said. "Get back here. We still have errands to run."
"As you wish, Roi du Poison," Rook said. Ruggie scampered over to Leona, tail wagging.
Such enthusiasm. Too bad it isn't returned.
"You-" Leona started with a snarl, only to be cut off as Ruggie shook him.
"Get up, Leona-san!" He said, as if he hadn't just produced such a massive disappointment. "Seriously, how do you even fall asleep in a place like this? You really are irritating."
"You've got some nerve, trying to scold me after your little mess-up," Leona said, pushing Ruggie off of him.
But then, Ruggie stumbled backwards.
And he fell.
For a second, Leona genuinely felt a pang of worry. Had he actually ended up hurting the little scavenger? For all his pride, Ruggie could be quite fragile, a consequence of his insufficient diet. Malnourished with taut skin and brittle bones. A poor reactant to injury.
Then he noticed Ruggie had faked it, and the worry was promptly replaced with anger for the attempt to draw out mercy with crocodile tears.
He snarled, even moreso as Ruggie didn't seem ashamed or afraid in the slightest.
"You-" he started. "Seriously think-"
But then he heard a sound. A thud, an oomf sound, slightly soft indicating the clash of a body with the floor.
Rook Hunt, from where he had been previously hassling the lizard prick, fell down the stairs.
Oh, this was rich.
His anger could be put on hold. For now, it was time to relish in that damned prat's pain.
"Leona-san-"
"Shut up, Ruggie," he said. "This is the best day of my life."
"My, ah, leg is in quite some pain," Rook said, even the damned bastard unable to hold back his little grunt of agony.
Leona considered taking out his cellphone just to pose over Rook's body. What did those brats call it? Ah, right, a selfie. Maybe even bring Ruggie into it too, despite his annoyance, just for the thrill.
But he too had some respect for the rules of courtesy. Just—
"Damn right it is," he said. "With all your creepin', it was only a matter of time before someone snapped and taught you a lesson."
—not that much respect.
Vil shot him a cold glare, rushing down the stairs to scrutinize his vice.
"If you're going to be unhelpful, at least have the decency to keep your mouth shut," he snipped.
"For a little freak like Rook? No way," Leona said. "If anything, I wanna find whoever the lucky bastard that got to do this is and give 'em a very sincere token of my appreciation."
Midway through his sentence, he realized exactly who was responsible for the damned huntsman's predicament.
So he had done something with that power.
Leona locked eyes with Ruggie. The little scavenger winked for a split second before feigning a confused tilt of the head.
"So now you get up, Leona-san?" He said. "To laugh at someone for falling down the stairs? You're so weird sometimes, you know that!"
Bold words from the person who'd made him fall.
"You don't get to mouth off when I'm mad at you," Leona said. Ruggie snickered.
"Don't hide behind the tough guy act," he said. "You're goin' soft on me, aren'tcha?"
Vil's little murmur of "Could Draconia-san really be so petty…?" Didn't go unnoticed.
In fact, that was the moment.
His idea finally bore a fruit, a tangy sort of sweet with a bitter rind. Citrus.
…Huh. The plant metaphors really were growing on him.
Belatedly, he realized that was a pun. Damnit.
"Somethin' the matter, Leona-san?"
Now it was time to work out the details of his plan. Really and truly.
"Ruggie," he said. "We're goin' back to my room."
And this time, it was with confidence that Ruggie clung to his side, movement slow and seemingly practiced, coy and smug, head held high. It was oddly graceful from someone so practiced in the environment of the wild.
Power already getting to your head, Ruggie?
It was no problem. For now, at least. Leona actually liked that look on him. Confidence and a little bit of poise could make even a slum-born hyena look like nobility.
He spared Rook one last passing glance before heading off.
"Quite the stunt you pulled back there," Leona said. Ruggie smiled, something different than the easy-going way he normally did. All teeth yet no hidden anger.
"It was, wasn't it?" He said, stiff. Too stiff. He was plotting something. "And to think you were doubting me, Leona-san."
"What do you want now?" Leona said instead of responding to his taunt. Ruggie pouted.
"First you doubt me, then you interrogate me," he said. "You really do put me through the wringer!"
"Be honest with me," he said. "You want something, don't you?"
Ruggie snickered.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Leona-san," he said, but then he shrugged.
"But you did say you'd give the person who was responsible for Rook-san's predicament a sincere token of appreciation…"
Leona sighed.
"Really? Now, of all times?"
"I'm waiting, Leona-san."
Far too smug, the little brat. It had gone from a satisfying thing to a nuisance. It was time, Leona concluded, to wipe the smirk off of his face.
He puffed out his lips, batting his eyes at Leona coyly. Like he was just begging to be…
"Unless, of course," he said. "You'd go back on your word?"
Leona felt a pang of hunger, a different kind. How could he not, really, when such an intriguing little scavenger was running his mouth like this, complete unaware of the way his words could be taken?
Soft, slightly pinkish lips, he noticed. Barely distinguishable from ordinary skin, but appetizing nonetheless. Camouflage only made the thrill of the hunt greater, after all.
"I wouldn't do that," he said, inching closer. Ruggie squirmed a little in spite of himself. That newfound confidence of his could only bring him so far, it seemed. At the end of the day, he was still a skittish little scavenger.
"L-Leona-san?" Ruggie asked. "You, uh-"
"You get to keep it," Leona said, deceptively soft. Two could play at this game. "Isn't that enough?"
"Well-"
"But if it isn't," he continued. "I guess I could always sweeten the deal. Just for you, little scavenger."
The words, almost alien to his own mind, tumbled out, controlled by something deeper within the vestiges of his brain. Primal. Inhuman.
Briefly, Leona looked for any trace of uncertainty within those cloud blue eyes.
And then, heart racing like a doe in headlights and mind fuddled with a concoction of chemicals and emotions, he did something that would most certainly have consequences down the road—like an herbivore lured into a hunter's trap by the sweet smell of food.
He leaned in and claimed those lips for a kiss.
It was by no means an action of love. As the little scavenger clumsily tried to lean in and kiss back, opening his mouth, Leona practically invaded his mouth, taking to it like a lion to gazelle—or, ironically, a hyena to a carcass.
Briefly, almost in a flash of warning, Ruggie's sharp little molars grazed his lips. Leona did not think of romantic outings or weddings or be or even some sort of loving future together, but of wiping that smirk off of his face. In response, his teeth as well moved to graze Ruggie's lips.
But unlike him, Leona bit.
Ruggie let out a startled noise, pulling back, albeit not before trying and failing to return the gesture, gasping for breath. Leona looked at the mess he'd made of his second with satisfaction. That ought to teach him not to act so cocky, especially not when he was within this proximity.
Even when Ruggie's stamina recovered, his mind hadn't. He just stood there with a flushed face and slightly parted lips.
"Leona-san…" he muttered. It was laughable, honestly, how he was still using the honorific after what they'd just done. Like they hadn't just kissed.
"Really?" Leona asked, brow arched, a little laugh escaping him. "After what we just did?"
"Well, I-"
"Pull yourself together," he said, a cruel edge to his voice. He imagined doing this in front of Rook, kissing passionately in front of his limp, injured body. A union of spite, possible only due to his pain.
Would that be enough to wipe that stupid little chipper grin off of his face, or would Leona have to mark Ruggie in front of him as well?
He ignored that taught for the time being. They had more important things than possessiveness to discuss. What was the point in talking about matters of love when there was a plan that could secure the futures of their dorm members right there?
"Come on, Ruggie," Leona said, opening a door he would soon regret going through. "We've got a plan to work out."
He would regret this. He knew he would regret this. It was a fool's errand, bound not to end well.
But in that moment, adrenaline coursing through his veins and the taste of hazelnuts mixed with vanilla on his tongue, he didn't care about any of the consequences.
And so it all started. An idea to teach that damned lizard brat a lesson, to make sure his dormmates could secure themselves the future they deserved. And just slightly, very slightly, he assured himself, to continue doing, er, whatever this was, with his right-hand.
He could only hope this all wouldn't go wrong.