Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There’s brisk wind outside.

Harsh, cold, and unforgiving.

The thin clothes he had were in no way sufficient to keep himself warm, and he squints at the white landscape before him. Pine trees creak and bend at the force of nature, and his chest constricts at the sheer confusion that strikes him, “hello?”, his voice barely carries through, and he tears up in fear.

“Hello?!” his screams remain unanswered, and with no choice he walks on the ice, his feet sting, but he keeps walking, until he hears voices in the distance, not far, not near, muffled and many. In desperation, he runs, until his thighs ache and his blood stains the white below, but... nothing. Panting and choking on air he can’t feel, he bends at the knees, so weak they beg to give out.

WHOOSH

What was that?! His head snaps up, the sound came from above, maybe-

He couldn’t even finish the thought before something heavy (and big) lands on him, straight on his chest, and he gasps for breath. Pain shoots everywhere, hands clawing at the weight, eyes wide for someone, anyone-

“Mrrow”

Eyes snapped open so fast he almost got dizzy, panicked gaze finally landing on the... massive, orange cat loafing on his chest.

For a moment, his mind stalls, thoughts not being able to form from the onslaught of panic. His heaving chest barely even moves the heavy feline, its sharp eyes looking down at him from its nose, Casein Nitrate?

On his left he sees the skinny white cat perched on the sofa’s backrest, also observing him, if he weren’t so distraught, he would’ve shivered.

Well, that was stupid. Slowly (and with much loitering), the orange tabby gets off his chest, finally. He watches as it slink away, moving to the kitchen (to get its fat ass something to eat probably), he sits up after another moment of just heaving, chest still aching with the leftover weight (it reminds him of something else, but he just shudders it away).

He can hear someone clinking and clanking in the kitchen, Jiwoo? A stumble and a yelp confirm that, yes, it was him, fumbling around in there. He gets up and walks over, maybe he could help? The other boy lets out a shrill yip when he reaches out a hand on his shoulder (he flinches, God he has to stop doing that), giggling sheepishly with a hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Uhm... I was thinking... pancakes for breakfast...?” was that a question? Or a statement? Jiwoo just stares at him, oh, so it was a question, “yeah... sure”, a smile rivaling the sun beams on his face, quick to find the ingredients needed, so much so he doesn’t notice Duke just standing there, hands fidgeting his sleeves (he’s cold, but like hell was he gonna admit that).

Only after everything was laid out on the counter did the taller one notice him, stood out like a sore thumb, and he lets out a short gasp. “Uhm... actually, I don’t really know how... I mean! I’ve made pancakes, but... they always come out, burnt, so...”. That’s... huh, was that an olive branch? “I’ll... help”, his voice was whispered after a swallow, and he hates how weak he sounds.

Soon, the kitchen was filled with the warm smell of (slightly burnt) pancakes, decently decorated with a sprinkle of fine sugar and some honey, they make a decent pair (in cooking), he thinks. Jiwoo told story after story as they ate (he’s not cold anymore, despite wearing the same clothes), and he just listens to every little detail, how his training was improving, how Subin put smelling salts in Jisuk’s socks once, Wooin’s constant winnings when they play Uno.

There were some parts that made him pause, such as Gestella’s almost constant visits, and Blues becoming the housemaid (his eyes scan for the awakener, but he wasn’t there, not since last night, and he refrains from asking why), and he doesn’t mind, well, maybe not the... Gestella and Blue’s part, but whatever, it’s not his house.

The dishes were made and the two decide to clean up (and maybe do another movie marathon, he liked that), being nestled in such a warm house (that isn’t Peter’s cabin, his chest still hurts) makes him feel... like he doesn’t belong, like he doesn’t deserve this.

Why?

Why is he doing this? Even after everything he’s done... to him, to his friends, to everyone... he shuts his eyes and shakes his head, hard, thinking like this will just- No. He’d rather not.

Instead, he focuses back on the movie playing on the tv, letting the Lord of the Rings soundtrack drown out the clawing thoughts, on Rocko’s soft fur, warm, familiar.

For today, that’s enough.

Chapter Text

It was the fourth day he was staying here (he has to find another place soon, he doesn’t want to... be a bother), when his curiosity finally makes him bite the dust, “where are your friends?” (where is your master? Gestella? Blues? Where is everyone-), maybe it was his sharp tone, maybe it was because of how quiet the house is, but Jiwoo flinches softly as he refills the cat food.

“Uhm... well, I actually... told them not to come over yet” his voice was soft as he finishes up, the cats swarming the bowls like they were starved for days, “why?” it was a demand, loud in the ambience of the house with its warm sunlight. The other boy doesn’t speak, just standing to put the kibble back in the cabinet, and Duke’s hackles rise, what? What’s he going to do? Was he- “I told them not to come over yet because... I wanted to give you space”, his bewildered stare meets gentle eyes, a guilty look on his face.

Dread washes over him, they know? About him? About everything? How much do they know?! “They don’t know everything, but they know you’re here, and I know them, so I told them not to come over until I said they could”, it was placating (would’ve been, if his heart wasn’t about to lurch out in fear), though he misses the way the other boy fidgets with his sleeves, lips between teeth as if he were nervous.

What is that supposed to mean?

He’s almost pacing in confusion, in suspicion, give him space?! Who does he think he is?! He’s stopped when an arm outstretches in front of him, looking up to considerate eyes, “if you want... I can keep them away longer... well, not that long, but Duke”, he lets himself be turned by the shoulders to fully face the taller boy, “I know them, and they will never hurt you... I won’t let them”.

His body tenses at such resolution, one he desperately wants to believe... can he? Their silence was stifling, even the cats went quiet, “fine... they can come”. He saw more than felt the relief from Jiwoo, his shoulders sagged, and his sigh was heavy, “okay... I’ll call them”, his jaw clenches as he watched the other boy skip away, a group call already made as their crackly voices echo in the living room, completely (accidentally) ignoring nervous fidgeting and tense shoulders.

Relax, Duke... it’ll be fine... at least, he hopes it’ll be.

He should’ve just run upstairs.

Not even the plushness of the couch could melt away his taut body as the cacophony of (loud) voices fill the entire living room area. The chaotic energy makes his skin crawl, so much so that not even Jiwoo’s comforting strokes on his arm can quell his uprising panic.

Fuck.

Subin’s shrill laughter makes him jump, eyes darting to an exit instinctively (anywhere- the stairs, the door, anywhere but here-), Jisuk’s screaming at his stubbed toe and Wooin’s calm voice lost in their bickering makes bile creep up his throat, hands clenching in his lap.

“Dude, you look like you wanna murder someone, I mean, you look like that all the time, but still”

The only girl in the room breaks through his haze of panic, eyes snapping to the scene before him, tangled limbs and cushion filling flies through the air, her squawk from Jisuk hitting her makes him blink, ah, so that’s how the filling is everywhere. “You’re scaring him bitch! Can’t you see?! He looks like he’s gonna throw up!”, more bickering follows, and he can feel a headache start to form, how does Jiwoo tolerate this?

The chaos starts to dissolve into one, heavy ringing in his ears, hissing in pain as he tries to massage it away. A glass of water is pushed into his face, the light bubbling of coke and its sweet smell brings a sense of familiarity back, and he can’t help the sigh of gratitude that escapes his lips as he drinks in big gulps.

The pleasant burn in his throat is enough to make some of the pain subside, the glass is taken from him gently, and he almost yanks it back, why was he getting possessive over coke? Dark calculating eyes makes him pause, “do you want some more?”, does he? The glass was empty, but it weighs heavy in his hand. He shakes his head after a moment of thought, and the other boy slinks away, sitting down next to Jiwoo, not too close, but still there.

Jiwoo, Wooin, and him sit in silent observation at the disarray movement of limbs and more cushions being flung over their heads, Jiwoo gently reprimanding them when a stray pillow almost hits a cat, which leads to more arguing and bickering, Wooin’s fingers absentmindedly pick at the stray threads that stick out of the couch, the consistency of it makes the ringing almost go away.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to them... somewhat”

It was whispered to him in secret, away from the prying ears, and finally, he can feel his shoulders unwind. Something familiar slides into his hands, and he grips at it like a lifeline,

Rocko.

His fingers make quick work at stroking its fur, his breath slowing to deep huffs, he can feel Wooin’s eyes on him, studying him, but he doesn’t mind it. The only thing on his mind now was Rocko in his arms, as the discord of the room slips into one, pleasant hum.

Chapter Text

“I gotta go now, my friends just came over, bye mum! Stay safe, love you!”

Jisuk and Subin came stumbling through the door, wrestling each other for a piece of candy barely hanging by its wrapper between the tug o’ war they were somehow playing on the floor, Wooin’s exasperated sigh as he sits down on the couch to play with the kittens feels out of place in the chaos.

He hangs up when he hears her goodbye, quickly shutting off his phone so the ache in his chest doesn’t consume him, smiling at his closest friends even when tears are barely held back. Jisuk was the first to notice, maybe he wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was, “dude! What’s up with you?!”, the boy was quick to kick Subin off, ignoring her sharp yelp and the bruise forming on her cheek, instead running to him and placing his hands on his shoulders.

For a minute he just doesn’t say anything, not until the knot in his throat subsides to let him breathe, “nothing”, it wasn’t nothing, not after hearing the horrors of what happened to a boy he knew (albeit they had no… happy memories together), not after even all this time, his mother still can’t come home to him… and she hasn’t been home in years.

“Bullshit”

That wasn’t Jisuk, he looks up to see Subin and Wooin joining them, each of their faces rife with concern, well… sucks for him to have such caring friends huh? The thought makes him laugh lightly, “no… it’s not nothing…”, he looks to the side, chewing his bottom lip, should he tell them…? But Duke’s going to be staying here… maybe “I have to tell you guys something”, the serious tone makes his friends pause, the usually cheery atmosphere in the house twists into something more urgent.

He leads all of them to the couches, waits for them as they each take a position, Subin and Wooin on his sides, Jisuk near his feet where he pets at the nearby cats, avoiding Kayden who sits on the left (his) couch. He needs to do this… really carefully, he sighs, not knowing how they will react, Subin and Jisuk already hate Duke with a passion (Subin because he almost killed her, Jisuk because he was the reason for Leah’s eye), Wooin… he doesn’t know what Wooin thinks, but… he needs to give it a try.

“My mum called”

Three heads swivel to him in shock, wide eyed and slack jawed, “what’d she say?!” Subin’s voice high with excitement makes the two other boys’ wince, but his somber eyes make her backtrack, quickly going quiet, not even Jisuk teases her about it. With a deep breath, he continues, choosing his words carefully, “something happened, and... she needs my help”.

He sits and observes, it’s rare for them to go quiet like this... especially with how loud they are, it unnerves him, but his body eases slightly at their focus and attention, a hint of pride in his chest, “somebody will come and stay here, someone... you know”, he can’t help his shoulders inching up to his ears, anticipation of their response makes his fingers sweat. “Uhh... who...?” Jisuk breaks the silence with an arched eyebrow, arms crossed in a way that makes Jiwoo dread even more for what’s to come, his fingers fidget with his sleeves, head hung low as he delivers the news.

“.... Duke Grane”

Silence.

Before discord practically erupts like a volcano, right here in his own living room. The next moment, there are hands are everywhere on him, shaking his shoulders, on his forehead, gripping his arms, their voices unite at one in a single sentence, “what?!”, well... if they just let him talk for a second... his hands rise in a placating manner, “guys... I can explain”. Their hard eyes almost make him flinch, but finally, they let him go, “fuck... I need a drink”, Jisuk scrambles to stand up, Subin right behind with the same mumbled excuse.

He can feel Wooin’s eyes on him as he leans forward on his knees, a sigh that came from deep in his soul makes him feel old, but a warm hand on his back makes him smile, his first friend’s presence always puts him at ease. The other two come back with four glasses, their consideration warms his as he’s handed one, Wooin the other. He lets his friends take a breather; the news probably shook them to their core.

“So? Talk”

Jisuk demands, his glass already empty and put aside, Subin’s stays in her hands, Wooin didn’t drink his, but he lets it rest on the coffee table. He thumbs at the glass, its chill doesn’t make him feel less hot, the burn in his blood makes everything harder than it should, “remember that last fight we had?”, it took all of them a moment, but he can see the recognition in their eyes, “something... happened to him, among other things... I can’t tell you guys everything, it’s his story, but I can tell you this”, his voice is lowered in grief, the memory of what’s been told to him plays in his head like a recorder, “he’s been... hurt, tortured, beyond everything we’ve ever known...”.

He feels a hand grip him, from the weight he could tell it was Wooin, and more hands followed, he can only return his gratitude by holding them in a desperate attempt to reign his emotions in. “Jiwoo...” through his teary eyes he can feel Wooin’s concerned gaze on him, voice gentle, “what... actually happened to him?”, and that was it, he couldn’t have stopped the story bubbling out of his lips even if he tried, telling them everything (except the part where Duke is immortal... that can come later).

The horror in their eyes doesn’t make him pause, it only makes him sob harder, he can’t imagine what Duke has been through, how his mother can see it with her own eyes and still remain sane. He finishes with his head in his hands, leftover sorrow still shakes his shoulders, but at least he’s no longer sobbing. Slowly, he looks up at his friends, wiping the tears from his eyes hastily, Jisuk’s jaw is clenched tightly, a vein on his forehead threatens to pop, his hands curled around a pillow, Subin has a hand to her mouth, eyes wide in shock and horror, tears threaten to fall from her dark eyes, but they don’t. He looks over to Wooin, taking in how... empty, the other boy looked, emotionless eyes gazing at something he can’t see, yet his hands grip each other in a grip so strong he could break his bones, only when he puts a hand on his shoulder did he snap out of it, quickly rubbing his face.

He lets them soak everything in, hands finding his glass of water and slowly sipping it down, it’s hard to swallow past the knot in his throat, but he’s parched after all that... well, everything. “That’s... horrible” Subin’s horrified whisper breaks the shared silence, the tension in the air makes it impossible to speak, Jisuk says nothing, no one does, no words of consolation, of comfort, just... grief.

The quiet lingers long, heavy, and suffocating. Their faces etch with a mirage of emotions he can’t name, horror, sorrow, empathy... pity. Jiwoo decides he needs to break it before the moment slips, before his throat closes up again. “I’m telling you guys this because... so that, you can understand”, he lets his words dangle in the air, taking a deep breath, “and until I say so... don’t come over”, his friends look at him as his voice hardens, eyes no longer somber but now filled with conviction.

Jisuk opens his mouth to argue, but quick to shut up at his glare, Subin pulls her knees to her chest, murmuring something he can’t hear, Wooin simply nods, giving no argument, but his eyes fill with something fierce, something he can’t name.

Jiwoo exhales, shoulders dropping as if weight has been taken off them, he looks over to the clock, silently counting down the hours, “19 hours... that’s all we’ve got”.

The words hang in the suffocating air, like a ticking clock none of them can stop.

Chapter Text

After that, they came more and more often.

One time, Jisuk kicked the door down with his arms filled with snacks and soda (not actual food), not to mention the boxes of premium cat food, no wonder he’s the cats’ favourite. 

A chocolate bar is thrown at his face as the food and boxes are unloaded on the floor, he clumsily fumbles before finally realizing what it was.

Huh? ... Is this a test?

“Don’t think too much into it! I just had an extra!” the grumble comes loud buried in the mountain of cat treats. He hesitantly unwraps it, sniffing the sweet, milky scent, hmm, doesn’t seem... poisoned. “Geez man, it’s not fucking poisoned or anything!” he almost drops the snack, glaring weakly, just to prove a point, he takes a big bite, he won’t die anyway.

It’s so... good. Too good. He hasn’t had anything this good in years.

He inhales the rest, chocolate staining his face and hands but he doesn’t care, the delight so strong he almost forgot where he was... almost. “Ow!” another bar was thrown at his face, between his eyes, hard, he catches the other boy’s eyeroll, but he ignores it out of favour of getting another sweet treat.

In his delight, he misses the rising blush on Jisuk’s face, and Jiwoo’s soft giggling, a whispered “shut up!” goes ignored, oh well, he’ll live.

Another time, they were all gathered on the living room floor, the couches pushed aside to make room for the circle they’d made. Uno cards scattered on the floor as their screams and laughter (well, except for his) fill the space with warmth he can’t quite get used to yet.

“You cheating son of a bitch!”

Subin slams a fist on the floor, hard enough he can feel it shake from where he sits across her, his own cards spread between his fingers, Jisuk’s protesting squawks beside him makes him wince.

“You’re supposed to say UNO when you only got one card left!

Maybe it’s because she’s losing, or maybe Jisuk really is... cheating, though he sees no sign of it the whole time they were playing, the idiot even forgetting to cover his own cards from him (if anyone asks how he almost won... he won’t say),

“I said ONE”

His arms start flailing around, almost hitting his head as the taller one tries to reach and grab at Subin, but she skillfully twirls away, her own (only) card now on display for everyone to see, though to be fair, it might not have been her intention.

“IT’S A MEXICAN GAME?!”

Both of them throw their cards away in a hazard, taking their brawl right in their circle, the sheer amount of UNO cards flying through the air feels like a movie. He’s quickly pulled away (by Jiwoo or Wooin, he can’t tell), hearing Jiwoo’s silent resigned sigh beside him, his hand still holding his sleeve, though he makes no sign of letting it go. He thinks about shrugging him off (he should, he always does) but... he can stay, this time.

Together, well, the ones not fighting, that is, they watch as chaos unfolds into... further catastrophe, now pillows are thrown to the ceiling and its stuffings are just... floating in the air.

It’s too loud, bordering on too much, usually he’d hate this, but... somehow, someway, he finds that he... doesn’t mind, doesn’t care. Almost.

The giggle slips out faster than he could think, quiet and quick, and for a second, he feels guilty for having fun, but... a stuffing lands on his nose, and he playfully blows it off.

Yeah... this is fun.

One night, after training (he didn’t join... he still can’t forget the white orb that he knows is in his chest), Jisuk comes by with a huge game console with controllers that have too many buttons, he doesn’t recognize it, maybe because he didn’t (wasn’t allowed to) play video games, but it looked familiar (is it a PlayStation? Or a Nintendo something).

They all clamor to him (he stands in the back, he’s not sure if they-), “dude! Come over here!” Subin’s excited glee breaks to him as he’s pulled in, eyes taking in the five black controllers (so many buttons, so many colours it makes his head spin). They all move in to take one each (Jisuk and Subin were arguing over the same controller, as usual), he hesitates, what if they don’t want him to play? What if the fifth one was just an extra? What if he messes up-

He's stopped when the controller is handed to him by Wooin, he almost pushes it away, to give it back, almost. But Wooin’s silent insistence makes him take it (only because he was pressured to... nothing more), after a round of rock paper scissors Jisuk and Subin finally take their own controllers (Subin lost, Jisuk cackled hard as he takes his win), all of them taking a seat in the living room, and he finds himself squished between the dynamic duo (ugh, just his luck).

Immediately Jisuk opens Mario Kart, ah fuck, he knows this game, Arthur’s raved about it before, and he can almost feel the headache that he knows will form. A hand on his shoulder makes him look up to Jiwoo smiling down at him, a silent “are you okay?” makes him shrug the hand off, of course he’s okay! He’s dealt with worse than two idiots (hell, he’s dealt with Arthur and that guy is a bigger headache than these two), the other boy doesn’t push, just leaning back against the cushions.

The game begins after everyone chooses their avatar, Jiwoo picks Mario (because of course he does), Subin is Princess Peach (that’s funny), Jisuk’s Bowser (idiot even did his signature pose), Wooin is a thing called Yoshi (he’s not familiar with that one), and he is... Luigi (not because every single other character he knows has been taken, definitely not).

It gets competitive really quickly, Jisuk and Subin physically fighting for first place, completely ignoring him between them, Jiwoo’s pretty far behind (ironic, if this were in real life, he’d definitely win), Wooin is taking all the powerups, which leaves the chaos twins behind, and him? Surprisingly.... decent, just between Wooin and Jiwoo, considering he’s never played before, he’s... kinda good at this, he smiles softly to himself.

The finish line is 300 meters ahead, and just a bit before that, a guaranteed win powerup sits ripe for the taking. Jisuk and Subin quickly lock in, abandoning their fists and focusing solely on the item. “Bitch! That one’s mine!” the boy beside him yells in his ear even though it was directed to Subin (he doesn’t flinch this time, way too used to it by now), “move it you fuck! Suck my dick cause that one’s MINE!” this time, he flinches, not at the sheer volume of it, but at the profanity she used (not even he talks like that... and he’s him).

But their quarrel doesn’t distract him from that powerup, a spark of competitiveness blooms in his chest, dodging obstacles and overtaking Jiwoo, too locked in to hear his surprised huff behind him, fingers clenching the controller so hard his fingers turn white. Their bickering makes them fall behind, and he quickly overtakes them before they could notice, 100 meters... 50 meters... 25-

“YOOOOO!!” Jisuk’s roar is deafening as he takes the powerup and... wins.

He won.

He sits frozen, shoulders wound tight to his ears, and his hands grip the controller, with bated breath he waits for their mockery, their disgust, the rejection, anything, he’s ready for it. To his surprise... Jisuk guffaws and smacks him on the back that takes his breath away, Subin hugging his shoulders and shaking him as she whoops and cheers, and Jiwoo ruffles his hair like he’s done it a hundred times before. Their glee is loud, messy... real.

For a moment he doesn’t know what to do with it, this... happiness, for him. But he can’t help the smile that takes over his face, wide... and genuine. For now, he only knows one thing,

It feels... so good.

Chapter Text

He dreams sometimes.

Of cold tables and sharp knives on his skin, cutting him open inch by inch as he’s strapped tightly.

He can’t scream.

He has a body yet he cannot scream.

But there are the better ones.

Of snow and trees, a quaint little cabin in the middle of nowhere, a wet tongue and snout on his cheek, a warm bowl of Borscht down his throat, it was still cold, but this one does not hurt.

Tonight, he does not dream.

He lays awake on the couch, Jiwoo he knows is fast asleep in his room upstairs, the fat cat and the skinny one too, always with him thick and thin. A kitten sleeps on his legs, its warm weight too weak to ground him, another one draped across his chest, he can feel claws scratching at him from time to time, but he’s too tired to do anything about it (not to mention the sharpness reminds him of... something else).

When he closes his eyes he can still see it, doctors whispering and cutting, the smell of antiseptic so strong it stings his throat, the chill of the hard operating table, the good ones, of Peter and Rocko, of the cozy cabin and tall trees, they were scarce, the longer he sleeps the less they come (he doesn’t want to sleep, he doesn’t want to forget).

So, there he was, paralysed under the cats making him their bed, the blanket doesn’t warm him, the chill creeps up his arms and settles on his neck. He checks the clock, 4 A.M., so it’s been 4 hours since Jiwoo went to bed, which means he’s the only one awake in the entire house.

He wonders, if Kat and the others are also sleeping under warm blankets, do they dream? Or when they close their eyes, do they see nothing? Do they see the white walls and smell their damp cells? He shuts his eyes and rubs them harshly; he can feel sleep trying to take him... he doesn’t let it.

He can survive without sleeping, he can survive anything, literally. But the longer he stays here, the longer he sleeps without seeing the stars, the sky, the more he can feel his mind slip from his fingers, grasping at threads he can’t even feel, can’t even see.

He needs to get out.

Before he can even think, he pushes (gently) the cats off, putting his blankets over them so they don’t get the chill (okay, maybe he is starting to like cats), and he walks to the sliding door, stepping outside slowly to avoid noise.

The cold chill hits him like a gentle wave, so different from when he was... there. The yard wasn’t big, but he could see the sky, can smell wood and dirt, his bare feet cold against the concrete. He stands there alone, gazing up at the sky full of stars that twinkle and no cloud in sight, are they looking at the same sky? The same stars? Are they safe out there?

He wants to ask to the empty air, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth, his thoughts racing a thousand a minute, yet he can’t speak. He remembers something from his childhood, a memory among a sea of others he thought he buried away, of a woman telling him that if he ever wants to ask for something, pray to the stars, whisper their names and tell no one.

So, he presses his hands together in prayer, head hung low as he whispers for no one but him and the stars to hear. For safety, for happiness, for happy dreams and no more knives.

He finishes with his chest feeling lighter, ever so slightly, he takes one last glance at the skies, bids his final goodbyes and heads back inside, closing the door behind him and lets himself be engulfed in the smell of cat fur and the hum of faint electricity.

He walks over to the couch and lays back down, not bothering to move the cat or blanket, he doesn’t mind, because for the first time in a long while, the cold doesn’t reach him.

Not quite.

Chapter Text

The dog plushie Duke carry’s so... cute.

He’s never seen without it, either it's in his hands or in his pockets, Jiwoo wonders if someone gave it to him, it looks relatively new but still decently worn out from him constantly petting it... wonder what he’ll do when he meets Pluton.

Speaking of, he checks his calendar, huh, he should be back any day now. The brute awakener never quite told him where he was going, but he did say it would be for a week or so, he’s never asked, if Pluton doesn’t want to tell him, he won’t pry.

Today, Jisuk and the others aren’t coming, all of them having other things to do (Jisuk and Subin are probably training, and Wooin was probably with his professor), so it’s just him and Duke in the living room, a Disney movie playing in the background while they played with the cats. He takes a glance at the other boy, it’s nice seeing him so... relaxed, well, kind of, at least he wasn’t on constant alert anymore, waving a cat toy for the kittens to play, but he’s not that enthusiastic, more like he’s only doing it for the cats’ entertainment instead of his own.

Is he more of a dog person?

It would explain the plushie, what’s its name? He’s never told him anything about it (he seems really possessive of it), so... maybe it would be best to... not ask. The kittens are no longer interested in the cat toy, and Duke just gives up trying to regain their attention, instead just leaning back with his head buried in his hoodie, watching the movie. Jiwoo playfully rolls his eyes, he knows what they want.

He gets up and walks over to the cabinets, the kittens tripping over each other running up to him, the soft padding of their feet and constant meowing are like clockwork as he reaches for the cat treats, cooing at them as he waves the flimsy plastic strips and lures them back to the living room. He hands some to Duke and the other boy tears some open to feed their hoard, already used to it, out of the corner of the eye he sees the small smile on the other boy’s face, and his heart warms at the sight.

Halfway into the (many) cat treats, he feels a whoosh of familiar energy, right outside the sliding door of the house, he excitedly looks back (though he hopes Duke doesn’t feel that energy, it would be troublesome if he puts two and two together when they meet), just as Pluton’s chubby grey toes push open the glass doors (with some effort) and wrestles himself through.

Jiwoo was about to greet him when he hears the sound of wet plastic hit the floor, head snapping to see Duke’s frozen form, eyes wide as they stare at Pluton’s fluffy form smugly thumping to the living room, his hands in the air as the dropped cat treat is lapped up by the cats, jaw slack open. When the dog hauls himself up the couch, he finally notices their guest, and he freezes on the spot, Kayden and Kartein remaining unbothered beside him.

Silence.

Jiwoo was about to interfere, maybe put a hand on the other boy’s shoulder to snap him out of it, but he didn’t even get to reach him when he heard a faint, awed whisper,

“Rocko?”

Rocko? Who’s Rocko? He just blinks when Duke gets up in slow haste, knees seemingly trembling as he makes his way to Pluton, the dog still frozen on his spot, not even his tail was wagging. Gently, almost fondly, the other boy picks the dog up by the armpits, bringing him to his chest, and strokes his fur the same way he would his plushie.

Well, it doesn’t look like either of them need his help, so he just goes back to feeding the kittens the remaining treats, subtly sharing glances with Kayden and Kartein, who also witnessed the strange phenomenon. For a moment, they just sat in the quiet, just the sound of kittens softly meowing and Pluton’s wagging tail hitting Duke’s chest.

Finally, he watches him sit down beside the two awakened cats, the dog still clutched in his arms (the wagging tail really betrays his adorably annoyed face), though his eyes remain fixed on somewhere far away, his mind transfixed in a memory.

“... You like him?”

He jolts hard enough it startles the dog (though he’s quick to calm back down), his red eyes finding Jiwoo’s, almost as if he forgot he was there. After seemingly processing the question, he nods, slow and hesitant. He just smiles, “... looks like he likes you too”, just as he says that Pluton licks at his chin (with effort), and Duke just... melts even further.

A question crosses his mind, though he hesitates to ask, maybe now is the best time, “does he... remind you of someone?”, shoulders tense as they almost reach his ears, fingers freeze midway through stroking the soft fur, and his lips part almost as if to answer. He gives him time, if he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to.

Instead of saying anything, Duke just nods, he swallows hard as if there was something in his throat, and his heart breaks when he sees tears gathering in those eyes. He looks away when the other boy sniffs and wipes at his face, he wishes he could hug him, hold him, anything to help, but he keeps his hands clenched in his lap.

After regaining his composure, he pulls out the dog plush in his pockets, holding it up to Pluton (still happily content in his lap, by the way) to sniff, the dog woofs softly as it’s placed between his chubby legs, excitedly bumping noses with it and tail wagging in delight (if he were a weaker man, Jiwoo would have squealed). Now that he’s really looking at it, it really does look a bit like Pluton, just a darker grey with brown eyes.

“His name is... Rocko”

Duke’s whisper is barely audible, but he catches it, somehow. Jiwoo tilts his head out of curiosity, his fingers itch to touch it, but he doesn’t out of fear that it would not be welcomed, “does it look like someone you know?”, he asks as he strokes Pluton’s fur instead. A look of nostalgia and sadness crosses those eyes, lips pursed and pressed tightly against his emotions, jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“Yeah...”, if it were anyone else, Jiwoo would’ve expected an explanation, but this is Duke Grayne, so he knows even a word or two is precious. Instead, he just smiles at him again, thumbing at a furry, chubby tow.

Welp, it looks like Pluton isn’t going anywhere soon.

At least he looks happy.

Chapter Text

Another student is being sent to the infirmary.

Well, that another was actually the fifth they’ve had today.

Ah, so is the norm for the Frame.

Roist watches with apathetic eyes at the boy being hoisted away, the victor herself was barely keeping herself together, legs wobbling as they struggle to handle her weight, but she’s still standing at least, he can respect that. Strength, no matter how flimsy, is still strength.

He claps his hands, gaining the attention of the remaining students, “alright! Enough dawdling! Class ends here, disperse!”, the kids slowly trickle out, the winner is helped to walk by another student, hmm, he should keep an eye on that, friends don’t mean anything in here.

As the hall is finally emptied, he walks out of the heavy doors, letting them close behind him with a loud creak and thump, leisurely making his way to the undergrounds, where he knows his master is doing some seclusion training. Nothing new, but...

His mind wanders to Lord Schnauder and his recent... behaviour. His steps are slower now, automatically taking him down the dark stairwell, the moist walls remind him of his master’s personal training grounds. His lord has been... odd, not so obvious as to gain the attention of Mistress Supri, but he’s been acquainted with his master long enough to know how he is.

How long his training sessions are, how he’s putting himself further and further into seclusion, rarely meeting anyone else outside of staff and Roist. It’s almost as if... hmm, but then again, his master has always been quite the loner, he chuckles to himself in mirth, barely missing knocking someone’s shoulder as he turns a corner.

Irritation is quick to flare up, but he keeps the smile on his face, though he can’t stop the vein popping on his forehead, “pardon”, though his tone sounds polite, there’s a slight venom to it, if this were a junior, he should teach them a lesson on watching where they’re going...

Instead, his eyes meet someone he’s almost delighted to meet, “Muse! My apologies! I didn’t see you there”, his hands brush nonexistent dust on the other man’s shoulder, purposely pressing harder to annoy the other Senior Disciple.

“Roist, you should watch where you’re going next time”, oh? Now that’s different. He barely catches the wicked grin that almost spread on his face, Muse sounds... tired, eyes half lidded and voice barely above a whisper. Hmm, that’s interesting, what business does he have to be so exhausted? Maybe... he can indulge himself, just for a bit before he has to confront his master’s gloomy mood.

“Now, now... no need for the hostility”, Roist drawled, hands coming to grip the other man’s shoulders, nowhere to go now, Muse. “Funny how you look... drained. Did the puppies bite too hard today?”, it’s purred close to his face, letting his eyes drift all over the other man’s exhausted form.

The glare he gets is absolutely delicious, he takes glee when he’s pushed away with force strong enough he almost stumbles off his feet, “mind your business Roist, unlike you, some of us are actually focused on getting stronger”, he wipes a hand on his chin as Muse straightens his coat, huh, that wasn’t the Frame’s uniform.

Now that he can see him in his entirety, Muse wasn’t wearing the standard black with red lining coat that he usually wears, pride of being a part of the Frame forbids him from ever parting with it, hair tousled and messy, a far cry from his usual slicked middle part, the tail of the coat itself was white with some snow.

Oh? Was he outside?

He looks down, his black dress shoes had dirt on them, also feathered with ice, his eyebrows reach his brow line in amusement and shock, “did you go adventuring?”, he watches as shoulders grow tense and hands clench at his side, lips pressed tightly and his eyes glare harder, “like I said, mind your business”.

With that, Muse spins on his heel and he’s off, hurriedly stomping off in the direction of his personal room, the coat flows behind him and his shoes click on the hard floors. His smile spreads on his face now that no one’s watching, well... that was something. He giggles to himself, it almost feels like this was a secret between the both of them, like something has been happening behind his back... and Roist can’t have that.

He downright skips on his way to the underground, well, not even Lord Schnauder’s gloom can bring him down, after all...

Secrets are far more fun than boring daily reports.

Chapter Text

“Do you wanna spar with me?”

... Huh?

His jaw hung agape as his spoon drips with cold milk and crunchy sugary cereal, the question catches him off guard, truly. “Huh?” he has never sounded so stupid, so dumbfounded, funny enough, the thought of even using his awakened powers never crossed his mind before (definitely not because of... that).

Jiwoo just smiles at him, bright as ever, and he finds it infuriating, “I wanna see how strong you’ve gotten!”, he says as he leans on the chair across him, already on his feet dressed in black tracks with white detailing, was this premeditated?

Duke scowls in an attempt to hide his wildly beating heart and trembling hands, “no thanks”, he murmurs, back to eating his breakfast and ignoring the kittens begging him for some (he knows they can’t have his food, he had to learn that the hard way). He stubbornly ignores the other boy’s pout and huff, barely even acknowledging the screeching of the chair being pulled.

“Come on, only once! Please”, he makes sure his eyes don’t stray to those puppy eyes, unsure of whether or not he’d be able to resist them, though unfortunately for him, a hand on his arm makes him look up and freeze.

Fuck.

Fuck those pathetic puppy eyes.

He drops his spoon with a loud clink and heavy sigh, burying his face in his hands. “... Fine”, he hears Jiwoo cheering and whooping, his hug on his shoulders doesn’t help his sinking heart.

Fuck.

Why did he say yes?

Ugh...

Why did he agree to this?

He watches Jiwoo stretching and jumping on his toes like he’s getting ready for a school race, hands clammy as he stuffs them in his pockets, the hoody’s too loose and it makes him itch, the sweat gathering on his back doesn’t help (and they haven’t even started yet).

“Ready?”

He snaps out of his daze; he didn’t even notice they were already starting. Jiwoo was already in his stance at the other end of the room, the only thing missing was the beeping for the fight to start. Without wasting time, he gets into position, trying to get his awakened energy flowing, but something is... wrong.

BEEP

He couldn’t even blink when Jiwoo’s fist is in front of his face, just an inch from his nose. He dodges just in time, flinging a red spear in his direction, but it came out stronger than he thought, he didn’t-

But the other boy was quick to turn away from it, he didn’t miss the surprised look on his face. For a while, fists meet knives and sharp cuts slice at thin skin, red blooms across the ivory white flooring, both his and Jiwoo’s, their shoes squeak loudly among the two of them.

The more they fight the more he notices how... easy, his energy is coming for him. There is no resistance in his chest, in his limbs, his movements grow faster, sharper, and he can’t help the manic grin that grows on his face, ignoring the voice in his head telling how wrong this was.

He pushes Jiwoo away with a shove and red blooming around him, the other boy skids away, but before he can move forward the energy before him shifts, makes him freeze. He couldn’t move, just watched as the crimson spear grows bigger and bigger, not until it shoots towards him does he dodge, just barely.

His cheek stings with fire as it spreads, fingers finding blood when he swipes the wound, it hurts, but bearable. Silence reigns over the two of them, Jiwoo in bewilderment and Duke in... fear. Their eyes finally meet, and Jiwoo’s heart breaks at the way the other boy holds himself, arms tucked against himself in a way to look small, fingers clenching his own hands that turn them white, red, wet eyes wide in terror.  

“I’m sorry...”

The quiet in the large space makes the whisper sound like thunder in his ears, and he so desperately just wants to gather the boy up in his arms until the tears go away. But... but he knows he can’t, is not allowed to (not yet), so instead he goes the other route, “it’s... it’s okay”, he holds his arms in front of him in a placating manner, voice calm despite the slight tremble.

He doesn’t move closer, not yet, just allows him to breath and process everything. He doesn't want to corner him; he knows Duke enough to see it won’t end well. Instead, he lowers his arms, slowly, making sure the other boy can see his every movement, “hey... you did amazing”, there’s a pride in his voice that makes Duke cringe.

“No... no it’s not-” he hyperventilates, sweat coating his entire forehead as his lips tremble, so close to breaking, oh no, Jiwoo can’t have that. He’s quick to move towards the other boy and grab his shoulders, physically shaking him out of his thoughts (yet he still remembers to be gentle), “hey! Hey listen to me”, he patiently waits for Duke to meet his patient gaze, watches him struggle not to break into pieces right then and there, “you were great, see?”, he points at his wounded cheek, the blood already clotting, “you scratched me, and that’s more than what anyone’s done to me in weeks!”.

His enthusiasm fails to rub on him, but he can feel himself breathing slower and his head clearing nonetheless, yet his shaking doesn’t go away as easy. He hears Jiwoo calling for him, but he ignores him, deciding the ground was more interesting instead (the blood splatters remind him of that hell), but he couldn’t get his thoughts far when a hand gently guides his head back up, back to those eyes.

“You... you’re more than your power”, the words hit him like a wall, so hard it makes him flinch, and the genuine resolute on his face makes it hard to meet his gaze (and harder to keep the tears at bay). His throat burns, words lost to him despite the train of thoughts running through his head, swallowing past the knot he finally speaks.

“What if... I lose it again?”

Jiwoo squeezes his shoulders, but unlike before, he was in no hurry, no shaking him till his ears feel ready to burst, this was gentle, yet firm, grounding him just enough. “Then I’ll stop you, every time”, and those words were enough to let air rush back into his lungs, making him lightheaded and knees weak.

He fails to notice himself being dragged to the nearby wall, only relieved that he had something to lean on, sliding down until he sits with his head between his legs. He can feel Jiwoo’s hands on his knees talking him through his breathing, it took a while, but finally his head marginally clears enough to actually think.

He looks up to see kind eyes looking at him, a patient, gentle smile playing at his lips, his hands still on his knees and rubbing them that feels nice. Neither of them talk, just soaking in each other’s presence while he gathers his wits together.

“... you’re an idiot”

It was a murmur smothered in a sigh, but Jiwoo huffs in amusement, nonetheless. “Yeah... I’ve been told”, the other boy groans when he stands up, stretching his arms and back as if he’s aged 10 years in 20 minutes.

A warm hand is offered to him, for a minute he just stares at it through his lashes, confusion marring his features as if he doesn’t know what it means, “come on, let’s get ice cream”. His own hands hesitate just a second before he takes the one in front of him, its heat makes him shiver, lets the taller boy pull him up and walk them towards the door.

In their conjoint hold he feels almost... at peace, barely feels the warm air kissing his skin as they make their way out of the building.

Wait.

He froze; Jiwoo’s questioning gaze met his wide eyes.

“Who won?”

Chapter Text

YAWN

He announces his entrance loudly as he shamelessly throws open the glass door in his sister’s office, ignoring and barely holding back the instinctive urge to throw the middle finger at Inhyuk as he shouts his warnings of “misbehaviour”. A glance at the middle of the room shows that Jiyoung isn’t at her desk, huh, weird, she’s not here but Inhyuk is, hmm odd indeed.

Throwing himself on the couch near the window he pulls up his phone, he needs to check out that ultra premium, ultra rare cat food like, today, or else he would never forgive himself (and neither will the kittens). “Ahem”, ugh... can’t the old man leave him alone today?

He throws his head back to look at the tall man standing before him with his arms crossed, his iconic (hideous, in his opinion) green suit iron pressed fit to form, the scowl makes him look uglier than usual, “what?”, he snaps, nonchalantly dropping his phone on his stomach (only after he double checked to make sure he checked out with the right address this time), watches his frown grow deeper.

His “babysitter” lets out a long, heavy sigh, seemingly already done with this conversation before it’s even started, putting his hands on his hips before looking at him again, eyes harsh and scolding (pshht, like he cares). “How are your friends?”, he freezes like he did something wrong (he didn’t... did he?), but he’s just as quick to relax again, far too used to the scolding by now, “ugh... they’re fine, healthy, whatever. Why?” he snaps back, Inhyuk already visits them way too much, obviously he’d know how they are (though... those haven’t been as frequent recently now that he thinks about it).

“Good. Because one of them needs to be registered”, his brain glitches, a loading signal playing in his head, registered? Huh? “Huh?”, he sits up, completely dumbfounded. For the nth time the man sighs, pinching between his eyebrows, “every new awakener needs to be registered under the organization that either found them or are nearby, per law, remember?”, he sounds tired, like his obvious point didn’t get across. Oh! Right! His mind drifts to the timid boy sharing a roof with Jiwoo, constantly hugging himself or looking somewhere no one else sees, huh, so he isn’t registered yet.

He hears Inhyuk walk off, his dress shoes thump on the carpeted floor, “get him here by this week so I can register him, you hear? Or I’m cutting your allowance!”, he flinches at the demand hollered at him by the glass door of the entrance, geez did he have to yell? He didn’t even get to shout his reply when he heard the door shut, ugh, seriously, what’s his deal?

He flops back against the hard couch, mouth twisting as he ponders, hmm, he wasn’t wrong, but... how was he gonna convince the guy to come to Shinhwa? And by tomorrow? He’s as sociable as a wet sponge (and he can’t afford to lose his money over this, how else is he gonna get the cat food?)

Yawning, he lets the gentle lull of sleep tug him for his afternoon nap, eh, whatever, that’s something tomorrow Jisuk can handle.

“Dude, Hurry up!”

Subin’s shrill voice doesn’t even make him flinch, but her kick to the back of his knees does make him tumble, “Oy! What the fuck?!”, he didn’t even get to kick her back before she runs ahead of him, cackling the whole way.

He hears Wooin sigh beside him, also quickening his pace, Jisuk just pouts, like, come on! He’s in the middle of a crisis here! Instead of trying to catch up with his friends he sulks and kicks nearby pebbles as he drags his feet to Jiwoo’s house, ugh, now he regrets not coming up with a plan to persuade Duke to come yesterday.

He walks until he sees Jiwoo’s house a few feet away, a sinking feeling in his stomach already forming, oh boy... he doesn’t even know the dude (get it? Duke, dude... whatever) well but he knows that this won’t end... good.

With a grumble he makes the last quick jog until he reaches the front door, his friends’ shrill laughter already heard through the walls, are they throwing a party or something? He throws the door open with admittedly less fanfare than usual, but no one noticed in favour of watching Casein Nitrate and the skinny cat fighting over... something.

He sighs (God he’s starting to sound like Inhyuk) and makes his way over to the couch, unceremoniously throwing himself on the plush surface with a groan. Jiwoo looks over at him and smiles in greeting, heh this guy is like sunshine reincarnate, huffing he just ruffles his hair, not too roughly, just enough to mess it up.

Wooin and Subin, now bored of watching the cat fight (and the glorious Casein Nitrate was obviously winning), decided that food was of utmost importance instead, clamoring and hunched over the girl’s phone to order some takeout, eh, he wasn’t hungry... he has another mission instead.

Seems like a certain someone wasn’t hungry either, the star of the (his) show was currently seated on the other end of the couch, opting out of the crowd and instead playing and petting Pluton beside him. Hmm, he really needs to think about how to do this... even though thinking isn’t really his strong suit.

“Yo”

Ugh, seriously? Yo? But it got Duke’s attention, still petting the dog’s fluffy belly while his own dog plushie stayed in his pockets (every time he sees it, he wants to ask but... eh), but he did briefly glance at him from the corner of his eye, okay, rude. As a distraction he clears his throat, desperate now to broach the topic while not being too... him, ugh, how would Inhyuk do this? Maybe even Jiwoo?

“Uhm... so... you like dogs?”

Stupid idiot! Of course he likes dogs! He tries not to let his face show his mental scuffle, hands in his lap with his feet slightly spread (he doesn’t look like a gangster, does he?), letting a sort of- not really- polite smile grace his lips. The other boy just goes silent for a bit, but eventually responds with a small nod, “yeah... I like dogs”, a ghost of a fond smile makes him look softer... younger.

Jisuk doesn’t know how to respond, so an awkward silence spreads between the two of them, completely ignored by their friends clamoring to the front door to retrieve their meals, the smell of jajangmyeon and spicy kimchi jjigae only serves to make his stomach flip and toss even harder.

Ah, fuck.

.... Fuck it.

“I need you to come to Shinhwa with me so we can register you as an independent awakener”

Fuck fuck FUCK.

His sweat mattes the hair on his forehead as it drips down his face, the urge to tear his hoodie off overshadowed by his own panic, FUCK why did he blurt it out like that? Did the guy even catch that?! In anticipation he watches the pale hand pause the petting, Pluton’s whines softly at the stop of the heavenly treatment, he looked as if death froze him over.

Just as he was about to reach out for his arm, he flinches instead at the wide eyed stare glare he receives, full of suspicion and wariness, his hand retreating to clutch at his own sweater, the sound of the dog huffing and padding to the kitchen going ignored by both of them.

“Why?”

Okay, he should’ve predicted that, the question was demanded instead of asked as he fumbles to figure out an excuse, an explanation, anything! “Uhhh it’s mandatory for all awakeners in Korea! Jiwoo and Wooin had to do it too!”

The boys in question turn towards them, only now noticing the growing tension between their friends, their bewildered stares really aren’t helping, “... you guys okay?”, God, Jiwoo this isn’t the time! He groans internally, great... this is just great.

Duke continues to glare at him with the fire of a thousand suns as he looks towards his friends for help, “yeah! Just... you remember back when Inhyuk first met you? When he took you to Shinhwa to register you as an awakener??” his voice grew higher and higher in his panic, hoping, praying that his friend’s braincells aren’t being handed over to someone else at the moment.

To his relief, Jiwoo does a soft “ooohhh” and smacks his fist against his hand, the memory visibly flashing through him, “yeah! I remember! Wooin had to do the same thing with the Union”, Wooin just nods, too preoccupied with his jajangmyeon to do anything else, Subin picking off her own vegetables to put into his bowl (not like Wooin notices anything, not with jajangmyeon).

“Why do you ask dumbo?” the girl asks with a mouthful of kimchi jjigae, sounding disgusting as she slurps at her spicy soup, but thankfully, Duke doesn’t look as... threatened anymore, slumping back marginally against the cushions, fingers thumbing at his plush.

“Nothing, just...” ah right, they should definitely know about this... why didn’t he do this earlier? “Inhyuk says we need to register him with Shinhwa as an independent awakener”, a collective “oohh” and “aahh” from his friends makes him finally relax, at least they can help now... he hopes.

Jiwoo makes his way to Duke and leans on the cushions by his feet, he does that a lot, staying below him instead of above him.... makes sense, “come on, Duke, it’s really not bad! You just have to register your name and stuff, that’s all!”, he lets their sunshine do the convincing, relieved now that the responsibility is off his shoulders.

GROWL

Oop, what was that? Oh... that was him, guess all that made him hungry, but what to eat? Uh huh! He sneaks up to Subin and snatches her bowl of half empty jjigae, slurping as much as he can before she can wrestle if off him, only when she manages to snag it does she tell him to get his own... which they already ordered... huh.

Shrugging, he shuffles through the multitude of plastic bags, finally finding another bowl of the spicy soup, letting the smell waft over him as he takes a hot, spicy, heavenly bite, mmm yeah that hits the spot.

But he doesn’t forget what he came here for, intently listening to Jiwoo and Duke’s whispering over his own slurping, the other boy’s soft and gentle tone seemingly successfully convinces and overpowers Duke’s apprehensive and scared one, finally, with a firm nod and a squeezing hand on the boy’s ankle, he turns to Jisuk, confidence in his eyes, “he’ll do it”.

HELL YES!

He hides his mini victory dance by slurping up as much of the noodles as he can, wiping the soup on his mouth and chin as he reaches for his phone, “nice! Then I’ll call Inhyuk and tell him to pick us up”, in his excitement, he fails to notice how both of his friends froze on the spot like deer caught in headlights.

“Wait... now?”

The sound of the number dialing sounds louder than it does with the silence that followed, oops... should’ve said that earlier.

The car felt cramped as they drove to headquarters, man, he felt kinda... guilty.

He subtly watches through the rearview mirror where Jiwoo and Duke sit in the back seat, both of them silent, though Duke definitely has more nervous energy, his leg shaking up and down, hands crossed and shoulders hunched as he looks outside the window, watching the buildings and trees go by. He shares a glance with Jiwoo who looks concerned and nervous himself, but he’s doing a good job keeping it together, but the fiddling with his hands betrays him.

He huffs and turns to the window himself, deliberately ignoring Inyuk’s glare as the buildings become more and more familiar as they get nearer. Duke and Jiwoo didn’t even get to eat... man, now he regrets not bringing their meals so they could at least eat when they get there (he especially resents at Subin and Wooin for leaving him alone to deal with this, taking care of the cats his ass).

They pull up to the entrance to the lobby, Inhyuk being the first to get out and open the door for Jiwoo and Duke, smiling softly at the warm thank you he gets, oh so they get princess treatment and not him? He grumbled and glared at the man as he gets out (by himself, mind you), all of them walk their way to the lobby and through the mirage of people to get to the elevator, and if no one comments on him staying behind (behind Duke, especially) to prevent a certain someone from potentially bailing, then... he’ll let it stay that way.

It's not the first time he laments on the fact that his sister’s office is on the 77^th floor, but the suffocating silence really makes him want to jump through a window or something. Through the corner of his eye, he watches as Duke fiddles and fumbles with the dog in his pocket, shoulders hunched to his ears in the oversized hoodie, the hood itself, though obscuring his face, does nothing to hide the fear that practically wades off of him.

The bastard Inhyuk doesn’t even try to do anything about it, instead just stands with his back straight and hands in front of him, tense and rigid. Jiwoo holds the other boy’s sleeve in his own way of comforting, trying to ground him in his panic, which would’ve worked if he wasn’t so stiff himself.

Eventually (finally), the elevator dings and the doors open to the 77^th floor, he can see his sister sitting (with perfect posture, as usual) on her desk through the glass, but he waits until everyone is out first before he walks there himself... no, definitely not because he’s scared, hell no...

When they make their way inside does he truly feels the panic settling in (and he doesn’t even know why!), his palms wet with sweat as he shoves them in his pocket, choosing not to stand beside his sister like Inhyuk but to stand beside his friends instead, false bravado written all over his face.

Jiyoung signs one last document before putting everything aside, folding her hands in front of her as she greets them with cold formality, not even her usual soft smile graces her features this time, “So...”, the air feel heavy as she assesses them, cold eyes taking in Duke’s every little feature, “I have been made aware that we have an unregistered awakener in our midst”, she shifts a glance to Jisuk, which makes him huff and cross his arms, “well, I got him here didn’t I? No thank you no nothing...”, he hears Jiwoo silently giggle, hah! At least someone here appreciates him.

He doesn’t miss her eyeroll, or the slight untensing of her shoulders, the tension broken just a fraction as she picks a piece of paper among the many on her desk, sliding it towards Duke with a pen, “here is the registration sheet, fill out as much information as you can”, it was robotic, professional, no favoritism there, the other boy comes forward only when Jiwoo gives him a slight nudge and a resolute nod when he looks back at him uncertainly, taking the pen and filling it out, only the scribbling fills the silence in the large room.

When he’s done, he slides it back to her with a shaky hand, but just as he was about to turn back, his hand gets grabbed with a firm grip. Jisuk and Jiwoo are only stopped by Inhyuk’s hand raised, a silent demand to back off. They hesitantly wait, Jiwoo getting distressed now by the sharp tension in the air, but they know nothing they do will stop the most powerful awakener in Korea sitting in front of them, her claws digging into the flesh of her prey.

Duke, on his end, shook like a leaf, her barely-there but sharp energy enough of a threat to make him quiet, wilting in obeyance like he’s ready for a punishment he’s never even committed, letting himself be dragged closer until the lioness’ mouth is to his ear.

“If you are to reside here, become a part of us, I need to know that we can trust you”

Her whisper sounds sharp in the quiet, her nails digging into his skin strong enough to leave traces of red blooming on it like roses.

“Can I trust you, Duke Grayne?”

Jisuk hears a trembling huff from said boy, shoulders shaking so hard he looked as if he’d collapse with a gust of wind, he can feel Jiwoo wanting to intervene, the electricity in the air so strong he can taste it on his tongue, but he doesn’t move, none of them do, this isn’t their battle.

Eventually, he sees Duke forcibly relax and tilts his head to look at her straight on, how brave... no one has ever met eyes with his sister that way without losing at least their dignity, “I have done many things in my life... have endured far worst” his proclamation was inundated with a fierceness Jisuk has never seen before, and his mouth goes dry at the sight.

“But know this...”, in a truly unexpected move, his other hand grips the claws that have sunken into his skin with a force that could rival the woman before him, moving closer as if a new fight has risen within him, “I do not betray those who have done me right... not anymore”, it was an intense showdown, and for a moment Jisuk truly feared for the other boy’s life, turning away just in case his head gets sliced by sharp wind.

Instead, though... that doesn’t happen, instead, she lets him go with a gentle huff, leaning back against her chair as she nonchalantly picks up the registration form and stamps her approval on the corner as if nothing happened. On his end, Duke just stands up and rubs his hand and wrist as if they weren’t bruised red and blue.

Shinhwa’s chairwoman places the piece of paper aside and waves them away with a dismissive hand, already getting back to her mountain of work, “you’re registered, you may go”, and finally, finally, both he and Jiwoo move as Duke straightens his back, and Jisuk swears he looks taller somehow, bowing down and thanking her as he moves past them to the door.

They collectively exit the stifling office (but not before he sends a stink eye to his sister), Jiwoo quick to wrap his arm around Duke’s bruised wrist, covering it with a gentle hand, “you did great”, and he meant it, the soft smile and proud eyes make the other boy turn away with a blush.

Jisuk stretches as they walk into the elevator and hit the ground floor, “yo, I’m hungry, let’s go home and eat, I wanna beat Subin’s ass on Tekken this time”, he punches the air in mock boxing moves just to get a laugh out of the other two, the journey home makes him so light he could bounce off the clouds and into the sky.

Chapter Text

The morning felt colder than usual.

The drawn curtains make the cabin dark and claustrophobic as Peter eats his breakfast. A cold bowl of Borscht... which he didn’t have the energy to warm up over the fire (for what...? He’s the only one eating it), Rocko with his head on his lap doesn’t make him feel any better, for neither the dog could muster up a good mood.

He finishes his meal, getting up to wash the dishes as he pats the dog’s head, Rocko whining the whole way. The bowl clanks loudly in the empty space, his head spins as he leans on the sink to support himself, the dog now boofing annoyingly beside him (he just wants to help... he knows this-), breathing heavily through his nose and out his mouth.

God.

.... He can’t stay here anymore.

He shoves himself up with a huff, ignoring Rocko to scratch at his beard instead, it’s grown long and wild since.... since he left-

He doesn’t even bother to put the bowl in the rack, nor does he clean the increasingly messy cabin, dust from days, weeks, maybe even months of abandoned chores makes his nose itch, the couch remained untouched with the blanket and note haphazardly thrown over it. Instead, he picks up a heavy bag filled with... he doesn’t remember anymore, but he knows everything he needs to survive is in here.

A whistle signals Rocko to follow him through the front door already held open, the chill of frost from the open air outside blows its way through the cabin, in the past, he never would have allowed it to be so cold inside, but now... now it doesn't matter anymore (nothing does).

The giant and the dog make their way to the sea of snow and ice, scarce trees fail to bring life to the surroundings, right as he sees the clearing of the road where he knows will lead him to civilization, the bear looks back one last time to his “home”.

A home where he had two children, two lights in his life that lit the shadow in his heart, ones that he would have done anything for, even to fight a war again, two little ones that filled his emptiness with joy he never thought he’d get to experience in his life.

Well...

Now it’s a house where he lost both of them, whom he failed to protect, no more little bodies to hug for warmth, no more hands to hold as he teaches them even the minor things, and again, and again, and again, it was all his fault.

All his fault.

His eyes sting when he looks away, his hand robotically reaches for Rocko’s snout when he hears the dog whine, worried over his master. Together, they walk the long path to where he knows his “real” home waits, just as empty, just as cold. He feels Rocko’s soft fur in his hand, and he rubs at it for dear life.

The only warmth he has left.

Chapter Text

So...

Boring....

Subin has her head hanging upside down on the couch, legs propped on Wooin’s lap as Jisuk is on his knees as he serves Casein Nitrate his usual treats, the fat cat’s impassive face as he swipes at the delicacy truly makes her wonder just how smart he is (and Duke’s bewildered face at the display is absolutely tickling).

She sighs with all her body, Wooin playing with the threads on her pants with Jiwoo and Duke on the ground beside them, watching cat videos on Jiwoo’s phone. The movie in the background is some sort of chick flick about a girl straightening her hair to look “prettier”, hah! What bullshit...

Wait...

Hair...?

She sits up so fast her head spins for a few seconds, Wooin’s gasp at her suddenness goes ignored, that’s it! Her hair! It’s been getting long, too long for her taste, this is the perfect time!

“Dude! You got scissors?!”

Jiwoo looks over his shoulder at her, eyebrows furrowed as Duke takes his phone from his loose grip, “uuhh... yeah, I think so... why?”, what’s with the apprehension? Geez, not like she wants to do something bad... like cutting Jisuk’s eyelashes for example-

“Nothing! Can I borrow them? And your bathroom? Oh, and some towels, and...”

She lists off everything she needs, she’s done this before, she’s no noob! Wooin and Jiwoo share a look, but the other boy nods nonetheless, “okay, sure! But what for?”, oops, she totally forgot to say didn’t she? “I wanna cut my hair”, she says nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders, both of them doing an “oooohhh” before Jiwoo gets up to get everything.

“Hah! Do you even know how to cut your hair?? Bet it’s gonna look like a stupid bowl cut! Like Sucheon’s!”

Jisuk’s foxy, annoying laughter doesn’t even let her go over and help Jiwoo, instead, she stomps over to him and kicks him wherever she can, stupid idiot! Who does he think he is?! His haircut looks like Edward Scissorhands’ dumber twin cut it!

“Subin! Everything’s done!” by the mercy of whatever is up there, Jiwoo’s echoed voice from the bathroom snaps her out of her rage, quickly spinning away to the other boy, but not before passing Duke, still watching cats playing on Jiwoo’s phone.

Huh, she takes note of how long and almost unkempt his hair is, wild as if he only brushes it once a day, its length reaching over his eyes and slightly below his neck, random strands sticking out like he’s been struck by lightning.

... She has an idea.

“Hey”, she slings her arm on his shoulder, shocking him out of his focus on... cute cats, his jolt makes her feel guilty, maybe she shouldn’t have jumped on him like that, but... oh well, “I think you’re overdue for one too”, she flips his bangs in a way that’s almost disrespectful if it didn’t come from her, and he just grumbles with pink cheeks (they’re getting fuller, and even she has to admit that he looks sorta... cute).

“Come on”, she pulls him up, the phone bouncing on the couch when he accidentally throws it away as he’s dragged by his arm to the bathroom. The door was wide open, a chair in front of the mirror with some towels and various sized scissors and razors on the sink, behind her, she can feel him tensing up, breath coming a bit too fast for her liking, uh oh.

Just as she was about to distract him with... something, Jiwoo butts in from the door, nervous yet excited, “uhhh, maybe we should Google first... or maybe a YouTube tutorial...?”, his hesitance makes her grumble, what, does no one trust her in this house? But his voice seems to calm Duke down, though he’s still somewhat shaking, so she squeezes his hand to ground him.

“Thanks man! You’re the best!” she beams, letting Duke go to observe the multitude of scissors, picking the standard one (well... it’s better than using kitchen scissors... like last time-), looking at herself in the mirror, she starts cutting her bangs, just enough so they weren’t in her eyes anymore, hmm, a bit there, this here needs to be a bit shorter-

“What?! You’re starting already?!”

In her shock she drops the scissors, narrowly missing her nose (stupid FUCKING-), spinning around to see Jisuk and Wooin peeking through the doorway, Duke leaning away from Jisuk with an annoyed look as the other boy points obnoxiously to her in accusation.

“Your fault for being so slow, bastard! Now go away, I need to concentrate”

Ugh, she almost took out her eye! Seriously, she doesn’t know how that guy graduated school! She growls as she continues snipping away, letting Duke and Jiwoo watch her with keen interest, hah! See? THIS is how the pros do it. She ignores Jisuk’s teasing, desperate to distract her, from making fun of her stuck out tongue, to pointing out her uneven sides (though she almost threw the scissors at him for that one), she keeps snipping and cutting, until finally, she was satisfied.

Joy radiates from her as she takes herself in through the mirror, fixing a few strands and running a hand through her hair, hell yeah.... welcome back, Lee Subin. “How is it?” she asks excitedly as she spins around for her friends to see, smile so bright that only Jiwoo’s could compete, chest puffing at the proud exclamations (and Jisuk’s jealous mocking) of her friends, even Duke has awe in his eyes.

Speaking of Duke, she takes his arm in hers, dragging him to the chair in front of the mirror, “come on! Your turn!”, his look of shock and embarrassment doesn’t deter her from draping a large towel over his body, clipping it with laundry clips, a standard brush already in her hands. “Wait! I don’t think-” she quickly shuts his protest by lightly hitting his head with the brush, “bub bub bub! I don’t wanna hear it, now sit back and let Lee Subin do her magic~”.

As she reaches for the scissors, she sees him freeze, shoulders taut and eyes glazed over, oh... right. Smiling softly, she lets him see the scissors clearly, “relax, I’m not gonna hurt you, see? I’m just gonna use this to cut your hair, so you’re gonna feel some cold on your skin, is that okay?”, she speaks soft and slow to let him fully process everything.

Just as she says that she noticed how... silent, the bathroom is, she subtly looks around, huh, they’re alone, since when? A quiet pride blooms in her chest, ah, her friends must’ve thought Duke didn’t want anyone watching, oh well, at least there’s no one (Jisuk) to distract her.

Slowly, ever so slightly, his eyes get clearer, and his shoulders are no longer to his ears, “o... okay”, he whispers, eyes downcast in shame, that’s better. She says nothing, just smiles, “So! How do you wanna do this? Just a trim or do you wanna go crazy?”, she claps his shoulders, watching him mull it over, lips between his test with his eyes darting to the ceiling in thought.

Now that she thinks about it, maybe she should’ve opened Pinterest or something- “Uhm... can you just.... trim the sides...? But... but I don’t... don’t mind the bangs”.

It was whispered so quietly she almost couldn’t catch it, embarrassment marring his voice and ears alight with red. “Sure! But uhh, I think we should cut your bangs a bit buddy, you can’t see them over your eyes”, she makes sure to keep her voice light and encouraging, just in case (and she knows she can’t treat him the same way she does her friends), he just nods, still shy.

She quickly gets to work, trimming the back all the way to his ears until they’re the right length, talking to him about what she was doing every step of the way so he doesn’t get spooked. Texturizing the hair to not make it flat (his hair is a bit curly, huh, who would’ve thought), making sure both sides are balanced before she starts cutting his bangs, telling him to close his eyes, she sticks her tongue out in concentration, her heart beating hard in her chest, in truth... this is the first time she’s cut hair that’s not her own, so screw her for being a bit nervous.

With a few more minutes of astute focus, she’s finally done. “Hah! And it’s done! Voila!”, she excitedly waves his hands over his head as he opens his eyes, thrilled at the absolute awe and joy on the boy’s face, “so, what do you think?”, he rakes a hand through his hair, inspecting the sides and back, “I... It’s amazing... thank you”, he’s so cute when he’s shy! It makes her want to squeeze his little cheeks to infinity.

Just as she takes the towel off and flapped it to shake the hair off, he turns around in the chair to face her, a finger scratching his redden cheek with his eyes downwards, “how... how do I look?”, uuuggghhhh she can’t take it anymore!

Squealing, she hugs his shoulders and swings him side to side, “you look awesome! My best work yet!”, there’s glee in her voice that only happens when she wins at UNO, and that’s saying something!

She lets him go when he pats her arm, embarrassment still on his face but she can see that he’s happy too, if the little smile on his face is anything to go by. She finishes tidying up what she could before pulling him up towards the door, “come on! I need to let the others see my hard work!”.

She opens the door with enthusiasm and ignores the pained yelp (if it were anyone but Jisuk she would’ve actually felt sorry), dragging Duke in front of her with her hands on his shoulders, “Ta da!”, Jiwoo and Wooin both fawn over the boy despite him constantly turning away timidly. After recovering from his blow, Jisuk also makes his way over, analysing Duke with his arms crossed and a finger to his cheek, eye narrowed mischievously, ugh, if this bastard says anything stupid, she swears she’ll-

“Awesome, you look great man”, he nonchalantly says, ruffling the shorter boy’s hair, ignoring Subin’s shocked face, “considering who cut it, at least”, he says slyly, already turning away and running down the stairs from the kick he knows he’ll get.

Growling, she pushes (gently) the others aside to chase after the stupid fucker, profanities dripping out her mouth as she jumps over the last flight of stairs to land a hard kick to his jaw. They (considerately) take their fight to the living room, wrestling it out between the floor and couches, dust and cat fur flying everywhere.

With one last shove, she pushes him to the floor and smothers his face with a nearby pillow, just in time to see her friends walking down the stairs, Duke beaming widely in a way she’s never seen before, soft and light and awkward that says he’s never smiled like this either.

Well, if he’s happy then... so is she.

Chapter Text

He almost missed him, at first.

From afar he looked like any normal boy, maybe a bit depressing, but still like any kid.

When he passed him, a gust of wind pushed the boy’s hood back, just enough to catch a glimpse of his messy pale hair.... and crimson eyes.

Wait.

Crimson?

“Come on man! Tekken’s not gonna wait forever!”

His cigarette burns and drops to the ground, the tallest kid’s rambunctious voice doesn’t even shake him, his jaw agape and eyes wide as he watches the group of teenagers pass by.

The one with sandy blonde hair holds his current subject by the arm, giggling and dragging him along, “heh, guess we can’t keep them waiting, come on Duke!”, Duke? As in... no... that can’t be.

The kids run down the street with no care in the world, and by instinct he wants to chase after them, but...

He’s patient.

He’ll investigate.

He disappears just as they lock eyes, watches as the boy takes a split second of confusion before he vanishes into thin air.

That’s right... run, run.

Little lamb.

It’s been a struggle, trying to find out more about him.

It took him a bit of research (from entirely willing witnesses, of course), but he found out that this kid was living with Kayden’s disciple, of all people, and it makes his job 10x more complicated than it should be.

Plus, he’s a homebody... as in, he doesn’t even get out of the house for groceries, not even when the other boy (Seo Jiwoo, as he’s informed) invites him. He could have snuck in and took him when he was alone, but...

He can feel himself being watched, too.

Though he doesn’t find it in himself to investigate, being a part of the Frame means you’re under surveillance 24/7, so he’ll let it go.

For now.

It was by chance that he heard the kid’s full name.

When that loud group of teenagers (who would wanna play with kids when you’re that old anyway?) were playing, uhh, Mario, something, one of them yelled his name when he won third time in a row, “Duke Grayne! Stop winning goddamnit!”, and that’s the only confirmation he needs.

Grinning slyly to himself, he jumps off the roof and pulls out his burner phone, hiding in the dark and concealing his energy to avoid any... unwanted disturbances. “This is Equinox, you’re not gonna believe this... oh, that? That’s just collateral damage, anyways, you’re not gonna believe this”, he snickers into the phone, excitement thrumming through his veins as he licks his teeth, “white hair, red eyes, Schnauder’s disciple, guess who... Duke Grane, that’s what, yeah! I know! No, no I SWEAR it’s him, promise!”.

His hands flail in the air as he spouts out evidence after evidence to convince his colleague, restless now that it’s taking longer than he thought, “believe me now? Yeah, yeah, so... what do I do now?”, he knows what he wants to do, but he also knows just how... precious and delicate their cargo is this time, and he doesn’t want to get on his own organization’s bad side, he shudders at the thought, waiting for further instructions.

“Okay... okay, fine, I’ll keep watching him, but I’ll stay in touch”, he grumbles a goodbye, he knew what the command was going to be, but he was disappointed nonetheless, but oh well, he’s just a lowly member after all. His bottom lip is raw from the gnawing by his sharp teeth, restlessness and anticipation running through his veins as he scratches his arm.

Ugh, fine.

Since he can’t have fun with the Grayne boy... his eyes latch onto a drunken man stumbling on the sidewalk across him, grumbling and mumbling with a half empty bottle of Soju in his hands, ah...

He licks his lips and gathers his energy in his palms, dark red illuminating the crevice he’s hiding in,

Seems like fun just waltzed into his hands.

Chapter Text

“Mmph...”, Duke awakes from a dreamless nap, a cat on his chest and another by his head, warmly snuggled under the blanket, when did that get there? He gets up on his elbows as he blinks blearily, eyes slowly adjusting to see that it’s already nighttime.

A glance to the clock says it’s 9 pm, fuck... and he went to sleep at 6... flopping back down with a sigh, he absentmindedly rubs a kitten’s head by his ear, ugh... he feels icky. Maybe he should take a bath... he rakes a hand over his shorter hair, smiling softly as the memory of Subin cutting it plays in his head, maybe he should have her as his personal hairdresser.

Gently, he pushes the kittens off him, trudging his way to the bathroom. He locks the door and as he moves to pull his shirt off, his eyes catch the empty bodywash- wait, empty? He abandons the garment and keeps it on, picking up the bottle and shaking it, ugh, just his luck.

With a sigh, he opens the door and makes his way upstairs to ask Jiwoo where the spare is, feet thumping softly on the wooden stairs until he reaches the other boy’s room. It was his mistake of not knocking first like a decent person, fatigue makes his mind numb as he pushes the door open, not noticing the extra set of voices before-

“Hey Jiwoo... where’s the spa-”

He froze, just as Casein Nitrate- Casein Nitrate? Stops midsentence, wait... midsentence? He gasps and drops the bottle just as Pluton (Pluton?!) yelps loudly and falls off the edge of the bed, the skinny white cat sighing with a paw to his forehead.

..... What

The

Fuck.

“What the FUCK?!”, did Casein Nitrate just talk?? And was that a sigh and a yelp from the other two?! Holy shit... Holy shit holy shit holy shit-

He shoves Jiwoo’s hands on his shoulders as he panics, pacing in circles with his head in his hands, a cacophony of a mixture of “what the fuck” and “holy shit” leaving his mouth that he can’t control, disbelief and shock evident in his entire being.

“Wait! I can explain!”

Jiwoo’s jaw slacks when Duke swivels towards him with wide eyes and an open mouth, gaping like a dying fish, “ex-explain?! Explain what Jiwoo?! That your... your CATS and DOG can TALK??”, he’s hyperventilating now, breath coming in short gasps as his head spins, this has to be a dream... it has to be-

He barely notices the other boy dragging him to the bed, sitting him down with firm hands on his shoulders, his pleading to “calm down” and “please let me explain” goes ignored. It doesn’t help that the fat cat (the TALKING cat) was sitting right beside him, rolling its eyes and sighing (?!), it only serves to make him panic further, mind racing with too many thoughts at once, fuck... fuck he can’t breathe-

SLAP

... He swore he saw a shadow of his ancestors with that smack, cheek quickly throbbing with a forming bruise. His head to the side and his hair over his face, he slowly looks around to the cat’s paw shaking with the exertion of its slap. “Kayden!”, huh? Kayden?

The room spins one last time before everything goes dark, the last thing he hears is Jiwoo’s panicking shouts and hands on his head.

What the fuck.

He opens his eyes to bright lights and concerned gazes, wait- gazes?

He shoots up with a gasp, pain blooming in his head with a groan, who- “ugh, ow...”, he looks over just as the space is no longer going in circles to see Jiwoo and... Kartein? Wait, KARTEIN?!

He stumbles off the bed with a yelp, hands flailing wildly with his heart dropping to his stomach, why is KARTEIN of all people here? In Jiwoo’s bedroom?? He’s pulled back up by the other boy, his sympathetic eyes doing nothing to quell his anxiety, instead he grips his arms for dear life, “what the fu- why is Kartein here???”, a guilty look crosses over Jiwoo’s face, and he only grips his arms harder.

“God, kid, will you just calm down?”

An exasperated sigh snaps him out of it, head snapping to the beautiful man sat on the other side, blonde hair tied up in a neat ponytail, holy shit, now he really hopes this is a dream – “no, you’re not dreaming”, oops.

He flinches closer to Jiwoo when the man moves to them, a hand outstretched to touch his forehead, “hold still!” he lightly scolds, though there’s no actual anger in his voice, it makes him jolt, nonetheless.

He lets Kartein check him, feels his warm, elegant energy wash over him, so serene it completely dissolves his earlier anxiety. The fatigue comes back to him, enough to make him lean on Jiwoo’s chest, the boy’s hand on his back.

When it’s done, the man stands up with a groan, “everything’s good, you’re just tired... and shocked”, the last one was murmured under his breath, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Casein Nitrate (or was it Kayden?) wince.

Jiwoo gently pushes him off his chest, though he still holds his arms, gaze all soft and understanding, and for a moment he sees the gentle eyes of an older man looking at him instead, “so... I think an explanation is overdue”, his timid voice snaps him out of the memory, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

With a long huff of breath, he leans back against the headboard, ugh, his head is spinning again, “ahem”, he hears Kartein clearing his throat, but it’s not to him, but to... Casein Nitrate? The fat cat sighs, and then a light shines so bright it makes his eyes squint, opening them to reveal... Kayden Break.

He swore he would’ve fainted again if it weren’t for Jiwoo shaking his shoulder, fucking hell... this is all too much- a second bright light interrupts him, this time from Pluton, when it fades it reveals... Pluton, like, the actual, Top 50 Pluton... Holy shit.

He can feel his eyes rolling to the back of his head and Jiwoo tapping his cheeks, he was just about to slip to sweet unconsciousness again when-

SLAP

Ugh, he’s getting real fucking sick of that- “SORRY! Sorry...” the other boy continues fussing over him which he pushes away with a groan, hand to his cheek, well... at least this one didn’t make him faint.

He hears a sigh and a grumble, but he doesn’t care, “no... fuck no, this is NOT real”, he mutters under his breath, still not willing to believe what really happened in front of his eyes.

“Get used to it boy, cause this is as real as it gets”

Kayden Break (THE Kayden Break) interrupts his mumbling, looking at him with his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face, confident and unashamed, Pluton beside him also with arms crossed but in a way that’s of shame, eyes to the side and refusing to meet him, Kartein still on the bed across him.

“I... I’ll explain”, Jiwoo rubs a hand behind his head, bashful and uncertain, Duke mentally and physically sighs, lying back against the headboard, letting Jiwoo do the talking.

Shit... he’s too tired for this.

He’s almost asleep by the time Jiwoo’s done telling the whole story, head bobbing and eyes threatening to slip shut, but Kartein’s subtle glare keeps him away (how is he even scarier than Kayden?)

“So... yeah”

The other boy huffs as he finishes, swallowing his dry throat. Duke just pinches his nose as a headache threaten to bloom, “Let me get this straight”, he starts, not panicking for the first time that night, voice almost eerily calm, “all of you hide as cats and a dog for... what? Safety? That’s it?” he points at the three adult men in the room, getting nods and puffs of confirmation.

Jiwoo nibbles his lip nervously, hands in his lap, waiting for the explosion. Kayden smirks like he’s actually enjoying this, Kartein looks like he’s got a migraine going on, and Pluton... is Pluton.

Instead of the flurry of emotions like expected Duke groans instead, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation and deep exhaustion, “okay... okay, fine, I’ll believe you... so you’re cats and you’re a dog, fine... whatever, just don’t expect me to hand feed any of you treats and kibbles or some shit”.

Jiwoo huffs in relief, hand to his chest, Kayden rolls his eyes, “oh please, as if I’ll let a brat like you hand feed me shit”, he doesn’t even wince when Kartein kicks him in the shin, but they all looked relieved, nonetheless.

Duke slumps further before shoving himself off the bed with a groan, already done with the day, with everything and everyone, frankly. “Whatever, I’m going back to bed, but I swear”, he points an accusatory finger at all of them, eyes rimmed with dark circles, “if the other cats start talking, I’m moving out”, he shuts the door with a bang, ignoring Jiwoo’s delighted laughter echoing throughout the room.

Tch, whatever.

Chapter Text

“Shuri... Shuri! Are you awake?”

All she gets is a groan and a murmur, and for a moment there’s a bloom of hope in her chest that her friend might wake up, because she-

SNORE

..... “Sigh”.

Katrina has never been more... exasperated and annoyed in her life. It’s midnight in Canada, and although it’s been a fairly long time since they’ve “escaped” (she can’t remember how many days or maybe even months exactly), she still can’t get used to how... desolate, it is.

She huffs and abandons her original mission (and Shuri sleeps like a rock dead she learns), instead walking out of their shared room and making her way to the front porch. She passes by A’ka’s room, how lucky, she thinks, since he has a room all to himself, she can barely sleep with Shuri’s snoring sometimes.

The girl rolls her eyes at her roommate and housemate, how did they manage to... adjust in so little time? Even when... she stops in front of the master bedroom, Mr. Kumar must be asleep, judging by how silent his room is. Her heart felt empty when she finally reached the front door, and finally, outside.

The cold night air bites her skin in frost, still unused to the chill after so long being in the desert, she regrets not bringing her cardigan (a new one that Mr. Kumar bought for her, she thinks as she smiles to herself). Barefoot, she leans on the wooden railings, beautifully decorated with carved leaves and flowers, by far her most favourite part of the cabin.

Her chin in her head, she’s swarmed with thought, wondering... just how did they get there? How did they manage to finally gain freedom... and peace? Her mind wanders to the day they were finally freed, just one random day...

Ugh... ow.

Fuck... those scientists sure don’t get bored... poison, again. She’s shoved roughly into her cell, the hard concrete makes her lose her breath, her eyes closing instinctively, ready for the sweet embrace of slumber to take over her, but... it doesn’t happen, instead-

She hears shouts and gasps, shooting up from the commotion just to be met with beautiful crimson red in knives and blood splatter outside her bars. She gapes and gasps when her cell doors were ripped open, the metal screeching and bending in unnatural ways as it’s flung far away, and it’s not just hers either.

She gets up so fast her head spins, but it’s ignored when she sees her friend, (-Duke) standing there with a red blade for arms covered in blood, “Duke?!”, she can’t help but scream out, maybe in shock, maybe in awe, but when he looked back at her with that... that look in his eyes, she can’t help but freeze.

“Remember Kat?! Anything and everything!”

When he sprints out the emergency exit, she stays rooted to her spot, fear and excitement makes her stomach throb, the memory of yesterday playing in her mind, was this his plan all along?

She snaps out of it when she’s dragged by the arm, Shuri’s harsh grip grounds her as they all run towards the stairs, A’ka running alongside them, rushing and pulling and shoving each other for safety. They couldn’t make it, not with so many people blocking and yelling to get out at the same time, raging desperation makes no one think rationally.

Dread pools in her stomach, what if they can’t get out and get caught? What if they get tortured again? What if-

“Hey! Over here!”

All three of their heads snap to a security guard waving them over, and fear makes her heart jolt and her neck cold. A’ka moves to stand in front of them, protective and furious, “what the fuck do you want?! Just let us go!”, his voice echoes among the sea of other voices, with a slight hint of fear and desperation. “Wait! Listen to me! I can get you to safety!”, Katrina narrows her eyes, trying to figure out just who or which guard he was, he looked... vaguely familiar.

Wait.

“Mr. Kumar?!”, in her haste, she shoves A’ka aside, his yelp and stumble caught by his sister. She knows him! He’s that nice guard who keeps smuggling her snacks sometimes! The one who never holds her roughly and never shoves her into her cell!

With fear and uncertainty clouding her mind, she runs towards the only semblance of familiarity left, ignoring her friends screaming and yelling at her to come back. She trips her way to him, the older muscular man catching her by the arms and hauling her up, fussing over her face and shoulders for any injury.

“Are you alright?!”

She sobs in relief, hoping, praying, that maybe, he’s the key to their safety. But she can’t cry now, not yet, she wipes her tears and snot away roughly before turning back towards her friends, “guys! It’s okay! He’s safe!”, she waves them over, half tempted to run to them and physically drag them with her.

The siblings look at each other with hesitation and fear, uncertain of the stranger their friend so easily trusts, but after a short, whispered discussion, they run their way over. Once in hands reach Mr. Kumar grabs their arms and makes a run through the narrow and dark hallways, twisting and turning until they reach a hidden door.

He unlocks it (after a bit of fumbling with the keys, chuckling nervously saying he doesn’t really use this exit), to reveal a narrow flight of stairs. “Go! Straight up these stairs until you reach the end”, she lets her friends go first, insisting that she stays behind with Mr. Kumar just in case, all of them running up the steps like a flurry of terrified rabbits, their feet thundering in the passage.

Finally, Shuri shoves open the last door, the rusty metal giving way rather easily, stumbling her way to freedom, directly into...

The outside world.

Katrina pushes A’ka out the doorway, letting him drop to his knees on the sand as he catches his breath, herself leaning on the wall to let the beautiful fresh air fill her tired, aching lungs. When her head clears and her chest no longer feels like it would implode, she opens her eyes, her breath catching in her throat at the sheer... beauty, of the red sand and blue skies stretched in front of her.

“Woah…”

She’s speechless, she’s forgotten how vast, how big the world is… her own world was contained within those four damp walls and hard, wet concrete… she couldn’t have stopped the tears welling in her eyes and drip down her face as ugly sobs wreck her body even if she wanted to, in her muffled ears she hears Shuri and A’ka cry prayers of gratitude to the skies.

Heavy footsteps has her looking up through her cloudy eyes, Mr. Kumar’s heaving form stopping and bent down on his knees in front of her. His finger points to where the increasingly loud sounds of cars and people are, his breath coming in short gasps and coughs. Taking mercy, she pats his back through her sniffles until he can finally stand on his own two feet, hands on his hips and head to the sky to take mouthfuls of air.

When he finally gains his wits back, he’s quick to usher them to the crowd and vehicles, taking their hands again to weave them through the crowd until they reach an inconspicous black jeep. Thankfully, it was parked just a bit away from the sea of people, and Katrina can breathe again. She hugs her arms as she watches the big man open the trunk and unloading some things, taking Shuri’s and A’ka’s arms in hers for strength, feeling their own bodies trembling and their breaths shortening against her own.

After some clumsy shoveling and throwing some items out of the trunk (was that a fishing rod?), Mr. Kumar lets out a relieved “Ahah!”, and pulls out some blankets and water bottles, jogging over to them and handing them over. Shuri beside gives a quiet “thank you”, gently draping the blanket over her shoulders with a soft smile, A’ka hesitates for a second, but some quiet encouraging from his sister makes him take the blanket and bottle himself, and finally, Katrina takes her own items, but not before giving her saviour a short hug.

She feels him pat her back in comfort, and she squeezes him one last time before letting go, looking at him with wide, wet blue eyes, his own gaze is gentle and understanding for the short second they look at each other, not as prisoner and guard, but as equals. When they part she drapes the soft, dark blanket over her shoulders and tears open the water bottle to drink large gulps of the heavenly liquid.

“Come on, I’ll explain everything on the way”

He opens the passenger door and gently ushers them inside, shutting the door and going around to the front seat and starting the engine. The whole debacle of everything finally tires her out, looping an arm around Shuri beside her, already asleep and leaning on her brother, she looks over to A’ka, his uncertain yet unwavering gaze tells her that no matter what, they’ll be safe.

She leans back against the plush cushions with a sigh, tired eyes watches red desert pass by among the sea of clouds, the sun’s warm embrace caresses her to sleep, and she lets her eyes close shut to peace and serenity.

The last thing she sees in her mind is sharp, manic red eyes and an insane grin.

She shakes the memory from her head, refusing to indulge in her bad thoughts, but there’s one person she can’t physically shake.

Duke Grane.

Her gaze grows somber as crimson eyes and soft voice plays like a broken recorder in her head, she wonders how he is… how he’s doing… what he is…

She clenches her fist around the railing, anxiety and mild anger swirls in her gut that makes her blood run cold, colder than the chill outside, she knows she can’t blame him, he’s the reason for her freedom, for their freedom, but… he also left them… left her.

Why?

She doesn’t even care what he is, whether he’d be the devil’s son or the ruler of hell himself… he’s still Duke… the same kind boy thrown into the cell beside her, the same boy who couldn’t even eat on his own…

“Katrina?”

Gasping, she spins around to see Mr. Kumar behind her, half asleep in a sleeveless shirt and shorts, rubbing his eyes and his hair a mess. “What are you doing out here? It’s cold”, his voice wasn’t scolding, just quiet with exhaustion, and she can feel her shoulders untense, glad she wasn’t in trouble, “nothing… just thinking”, of someone… but he wasn’t important, not right now.

“Come inside and get some sleep, you can crash on the couch if Shuri’s too loud”, he leaves the door open as he drags himself inside the warm cabin, moonlight iluminating his tanned, broad back. With one last look to the woods, she trudges to the door and shuts it behind her, taking in the rather large cabin, just enough to hold all of them, high ceilings and dark wood, the fireplace ashened and the sofas messy with unfolded blankets.

Well… Shuri definitely wasn’t getting any quieter, so she decides to crash on the couch with the thickest blanket, tucking the blanket to her chin and letting it’s softness and warmth envelope her in sleep.

That night, she dreams of snowy hair and soft skin, instead of empty rooms and cold concrete floors.

Chapter Text

Hah… Lord Schnauder is in one of his moods again.

Roist shuts the heavy door and leans against it with a heavy sigh, looking up to the ceiling as if in search of answers. He’d just been cast out… again, but at least he didn’t get yelled at this time (but the defeated huff feels worst).

He doesn’t get it.

He thought this was just a… one off thing, ever since Grayne’s death, it’s like his master took a total 360 turn, though he at least keeps up appearances with Madam Supri. He shoves himself up with a grumble, well, now he’s just bored, hmm… wonder what Muse is doing, maybe he should… check up on him.

He grins and chuckles to himself as he leisurely makes his way to the other Senior Disciple’s room, mind wandering to that… incident, the other day, ahh, what a shame, no matter how much or how well he investigates, he never did found out what he did that day… although, he does have his suspicions-

“Have you heard? Equinox said he found Duke Grayne!”

Oh? He takes a sharp turn to where the whispers are, down the dark hallway and into a secluded corner, “seriously? Isn’t he dead? That’s just impossib-”, the agents freeze like deer caught by a leapord, Roists wide, red eyes, stop their breaths (and their hearts).

“Oh…? And what’s this on the grapevine I have yet to hear?”

He widens his energy field to trap the little mice, manic glee eminating off him like poisonous gas, his smile so wide it splits his face into two. The subordinates stay frozen to their spot, knees trembling and sweat drips off their brow, close to begging for whatever mercy the terrifying man could offer.

“I- We-”

One of the two, a woman, stutters in fear, unable to form a single coherent sentence, “now, now… no need to fear”, Roist leans his face closer to them, purposefully showing off his pearly, sharp, whites, “I won’t bite”, he takes immense joy at the squeal he gets, the woman’s companion so close to fainting he’s already swaying on his feet.

“I won’t bite, if… you tell me everything you know, rumour or not”

His promise is strengthened by the slight distance he puts between them, hands behind his back and smile to sly politeness (just like how he trained himself). He waits impatiently for the little mice to talk, but through their stutters and mumbling he finally gets the whole story.

And he can hardly keep his glee to himself.

This… will be fun.

Huff… huff… huff.

The cold air does nothing to help cool the sweat dripping off his back, nor does it sooth the deep ache in his bone and scars, the thick, hard walls were marred with large, almost gigantic scratches, proof of his hard work.

He sighs something old and heavy, too aged for his young body. For whatever reason… no matter how much… or how long he trains, he fights, he pushes… he can never get the boy’s… face, out of his head.

Every time he closes his eyes he can see that crimson, wet gaze looking at him with full of hope, and his chest just aches at the fact that he… failed, over, and over, and over again, until… he was too late.

He shakes his head from the depressing thoughts, refusing to fall into that deep hole again, he doesn’t want to think anymore… he’s too tired to.

Instead, he just takes the fresh towel laid out by one of his servants to clean himself, not caring if he needed a shower or not despite how dirty he feels (not to mention his hands, he’s never felt clean since-).

He shuts the heavy door behind him to slam those thoughts down, he may have been able to pretend everything was okay with everyone else (like Supri), but behind closed doors…

As he walks down the dark hallway leading to his personal quarters, down the winding paths until-

“…. Duke Grayne-”

He froze.

What?

He stomps down the dark floors until he reaches where the voices are, only to be met with the terrified eyes of two agents and… Roist.

“Huff… What did you just say?”, he couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice no matter the strength he had, his heavy pants fill the pregnant silence, his eyes, wide and unyielding as he demands his answer.

“Master! My it’s good to see you out and about”, his disciples annoyingly coy voice snaps him out of his self induced trance, his humourless gaze makes sweat drip off Roist’s jaw. Though, that doesn’t mean he’s fully cowed, in fact, his knowing eyes tears through Schnauder bit by bit, and he barely resisted the urge to snap that thin neck in his hands.

“… Shut up, Roist”, the exhaustion in his voice only serves to make his disobedient disciple grin wider, but he backs off, nonetheless, hands behind his back and eyes downwards in a slight bow.

“You”, the two agents freeze, knees wobbling together so pathetically that past him would have laughed, unable to move away from his accusing finger, “tell me everything, start to finish”, he approaches them with the grace of a bear hunting his next meal, slow and tall, “or else”.

They fumble and stutter through their story, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Roist’s knowing smile, as if he’s already heard it, tch, he’ll deal with him later. Eventually, and after much interrogation, he gets the full story, and he feels his heart drop to his stomach, the world spins and bile rises in his throat as he fully processed everything.

Duke Grayne… is alive.

Chapter Text

Jiwoo’s house is a lot like Peter’s cabin.

Quaint, warm, full of sunlight and laughter.

Just with… more people.

Today everything was… incredibly calm, well, aside from Jisuk and Subin’s bickering over the last piece of tteoboki.

Amidst their quarrel, Duke sits on the sofa with Pluton on his lap (no, the fact that in reality this is a full grown adult man that could crush him with one hand doesn’t deter him from treating the doggy awakener like a real puppy), asleep with his tail wagging in a sweet dream. Jiwoo beside him equally doting on the two kittens snuggled in his arms.

He barely acknowledges the pillow that misses his head, his focus elsewhere and his fingers toying with the dog’s ear, the warm weight of Rocko in his pocket that makes his chest ache ignored at the moment.

“UGH! Man, I’m so bored!”

Subin has a foot on Jisuk’s back, pressing him down on the floor that makes him wheeze, apparently the near murder isn’t enough to deter her from boredom. Duke rolls his eyes with a sigh when she’s overthrown and stumbles on the floor, Jisuk now sitting crosslegged on her back as revenge, chin in his hand as if deep in thought.

“Dude! I know! Let’s go to that arcade that just opened!”

He jumps up just as the girl makes a move to shove him off, but the suggestion of fun stops her from making chase, her face lighting up in excitement. Duke’s hand stills and his brows furrow, an arcade? He vaguely knows what it is, but he’s never been to one himself, was that one of those clubs or something?

He looks at the boy beside him, grabbing a fistful of his sweater to grab his attention, “what’s… what’s an arcade?”, he whispers to make sure no one hears, and Jiwoo’s shocked look almost makes him wince, what? Is he supposed to know what an arcade is?

“DUDE! You don’t know what an arcade is?! Now we HAVE to go!”

Ah, shit…

He doesn’t even get the chance to protest when he’s dragged up by the shoulders, Subin already grabbing his hand and pulling him to the door. By instinct he wants to rip his arm away and go back to the safety of the house, but Jiwoo’s warm hand lands on his shoulder, guiding him forward.

His frantic eyes meet Jiwoo’s soft and confident gaze, and bit by bit the tightness in his chest melts away, now replaced by mild irritation when the other boy chuckles at his pout.

Ugh… great.

So… this is an arcade.

The lights were too bright, and the sound makes his ears ring, chaotic and… very much childish. It reminded him of those nightclubs in movies, but instead of alcohol and scandalously dressed women, there were cheap energy drinks and kids in school uniforms wandering around.

Jisuk and Subin were stuck in a weird… battle with a basketball machine, shouting at the balls and hoops like they were mortal enemies.

“Gah! Just get in the stupid hoop!”

Duke blinked at the way Subin borderline tackles the ball into the hoop, he’s… pretty sure that’s not how you play it. Beside her, Jisuk missed his throw again and screamed out profanities vulgar enough a few kids gave them the stink eye.

He huffed out a quiet laugh, for awakened ones, they sure are good at losing. He feels a nudge at his side, looking up to see Jiwoo tilting his head at the various other games as if asking if he wanted to play.

He looks around, thumbing Rocko’s ear in his pocket as he thinks, lips pouted in thought, hmm… all of them looked fun, especially that drum thing over there, but he’s not in the mood to move around much, what about…

Ah, there!

He points to a claw machine full of plushies, white bunnies with blue eyes, one wearing a pink hoodie, but what really caught his eye was the cat with a black hood, that one’s cute.

He drags Jiwoo by the sleeve, already fishing for tokens in his pocket, he’d seen a few girls playing this earlier and it looked easy enough, so why not?

The machine dings and the lights flash, he hears the other boy huff a gentle laugh, but Duke ignores it, hands on the console and brows furrowed in deep concentration.

He aims the claw right above the plushie, trembling in anticipation as he pushes the button, watches in rapt attention as the claw goes down…

Down…

Clamps.

… The wrong plushie.

He huffs in irritation as it drops the fluffy bunny halfway, Jiwoo giggling beside him, “awh, you missed”. Duke ignores it as he puts in another token, “I didn’t, the machine did”, he says flatly, repeating the steps, aims the claw again, slightly to the left this time, and pushes the button.

Down…

Down…

Clamp.

… It missed.

A vein threatens to pop on his forehead the fourth time he does it, every time the machine either completely misses or grabs the wrong plushie, and his frustration grabs the others’ attention as well, Subin and Jisuk cheering beside him.

“Dude, are you seriously fighting with a machine right now? And losing?”

Jisuk has an arm around his shoulder as he taunts him, and Duke swears he’s so close to punching his stupid teeth in. He fishes for his last token, and his shoulders sag when he realises that, maybe… he won’t be able to bring it home.

“Come on, I’ll try”

Jiwoo’s taken pity on him it seems, despite his efforts to conceal his disappointment, but he feels like that it might be… time to give up, so with somber eyes he hands over his last token, ready to accept his lost (it’s just a stupid plush, why is he feeling like this?).

He watches half heartedly as Jiwoo aims the claw with full concentration, Subin helping him by pointing out where to go from the side (no fair!), before finally, they all hold their breaths as the claw descends, down… down…

Clamp.

Holy shit.

Whoops and cheers echo in their little corner of the arcade as the claw drops the cat plushie into the dispenser, Jiwoo already bending down to retrieve it even before it drops the plush down. Jisuk wraps an arm around him in a side hug, ruffling his hair in congratulations, and Duke could only watch with awe and envy as they celebrate, great, he’s better than him even in this (stupid, stupid Duke Grayne).

To his shock, Jiwoo hands him the cat plush with gentle eyes and even softer smile, proud of him despite his failure. The warmth in him spreads from his chest to his cheeks as he shyly takes it.

“Thank you…”

He feels a hand ruffle his hair in such a tender way it could only belong to Jiwoo, and the cosy fire in his chest just blooms even further, pink staining his ears and nose.

“Yo! This calls for a celebration! Ramyeon’s on me!”

He lets himself be dragged outside by Jisuk’s arm around his, gathering both the cat plush and Rocko in his arms, their weights combined makes a fuzzy feeling in him he can’t identify but… he likes it.

WHOOSH

Huh?

He spins around, the quick rush of energy as quick to disappear just as it appears. Frantic red eyes search the area, ignoring the tugging on his sleeve to find the familiar energy.

A faint shadow in the alleyway makes his heart stop.

What was that?

“Duke? You okay?”

Jiwoo’s concerned voice snaps him out of his daze, a quick glance confirms that the phantom was gone.

“…. Nothing”

The furrowed brows betray Jiwoo’s lingering worry, but the other boy just urges him along, nonetheless. The tightness in his chest doesn’t go away until they reach home, the familiar scents of cat fur and warm sunlight through curtains melts away his anxiety.

He collapses on the couch, scooping Pluton in his arms, his wiggling doesn’t deter him, instead he just smooshes the dog between the plush and Rocko, Pluton’s defeated sigh makes him giggle.

As the laughter fills the room, the memory of the shadow drifts to the back of his mind, maybe… maybe it was nothing, maybe it was just a play of light.

But even as the warmth seeps into his bones, his thumb rubbing the edge of Rocko’s ear, insistent, like he’s afraid he might disappear, like everyone might disappear, if he stops.

For now… this was enough.

Chapter Text

Ding

Wooin takes out his phone to a picture of Duke in deep concentration playing a… claw machine? Ah, they must have went to that new arcade, disappointment drags down his chest, shame, he would’ve loved to go, but he promised his professor he’d visit today.

The warm setting sun creates a beautiful golden atmosphere around him, the chill of the night not yet settling in, birds chirping in signal of the ending day makes a nice ambience, and the warm weight of the jajangmyeon takeout in his hand brews excitement in his grumbling stomach.

As he walks, his mind takes him back to the conversation he had with his professor a few hours prior, and his brows crease. Honestly, he still doesn’t understand what he meant, especially by… that.

The old, greying man, thin in his usual labcoat sits across him with his legs crossed, all laid back and relaxed, way opposite to his normally stoic face, now sporting a warm smile.

“Wooin! Come in”

He was already making his way to the opposite chair even before the welcome was complete, much too familiar with the setting for any hesitation. The usual flow of conversation accompany’s  the sterile room, his mentor asking him how his day went, how the cat was being, his health, it wasn’t until he was asked about his friends did he pause, and his professor immediately took notice (as he always does).

“Hmm? What’s wrong Wooin?”

Should he tell him? What will the professor say?

“Uhm… yeah, they’re… fine”

From the slight frown to the deep crease on his brows he knows his lie wasn’t taken, of course not, this man practically raised him, so with a deep sigh he starts spilling everything, from when Jiwoo first told them about Duke’s coming, all the way to their trip to the arcade, even showing him the latest picture Jisuk sent him of the boy holding a new Kuromi plushie (he barely hid his disappointment, he wanted to see that too).

The mirage of faces the older man gives ranged from pure shock to mirthful surprise, until it morphed into a look of quiet apprehension, “what’s wrong professor?”, the shake of his head makes Wooin’s stomach drop, he knows that look, and he doesn’t like it.

“Wooin… how do you see him? This Grayne kid?”

The almost professional tone makes him think about his answer really carefully, the way it’s asked is more akin to an interrogation, a sharp contrast to their previous warm conversation it makes him sweat through his jacket.

“I think… he’s… shy, a little scared, like something bad might happen any time… but, he’s not bad… he’s not… the person he was… like the person we all knew…”

He knows his answer wasn’t satisfactory, if the tense shoulders and firm eyes tells him anything, just as he was about to defend himself, to explain, he’s interrupted by his mentor’s sharp voice, “I said I want to know how you see him, not what you think he is”, he winced, ever so slightly, he doesn’t know why his professor is acting this way…

“… I see myself in him”

 Wooin doesn’t miss the slight flinch of the older man, his eyes softening ever so slightly, the corners of his mouth turn downwards, almost in pity, but he remains quiet.

“He’s… he’s just like me, professor… he was tortured, abused… experimented on, just like me… and when I look at him I…”

His throat clogs up and his eyes become cloudy with tears, he takes a few seconds to swallow past the knot until his voice doesn’t feel as if it might get drowned in his emotions.

“I see the version of myself if… if you hadn’t saved me”

That was it… the very thing he’s kept to himself, hidden away from his friends deep in his heart, and it makes his back bow and his shoulders shake. Amidst his sobbing he hears his professor stand and make his way towards him, and he reaches out desperately for the man he considers his father in everything but blood.

It takes a few minutes for him to calm himself, his mentor rubbing his back helps in soothing the wave of sudden sadness that takes over his chest, and he feels ever so grateful that fate has allowed them to meet, has allowed him to know what it felt like to be… free.

“Wooin… I’m glad that you found friends, who will stay with you thick or thin, but… I don’t know how to feel with you… befriending this Grayne kid”

He looks up at the older man, lips slightly falling open in confusion, but also ready to defend his friend, his professor doesn’t know him like he does, he’s changed! He’s seen it! But he wasn’t able to voice his thoughts when scolding eyes slams his mouth shut, the man might have grown softer compared to the previous years, but that still doesn’t mean he’s not scared of him anymore.

“Hah… just, remember this… old debts have long shadows, and if they’re not repaid, they will be returned with blood”

Wooin… really doesn’t know what to say to that, so just as he’s been taught, he stays quiet, letting his professor go and lets him sit back down, legs already crossed in a way he knows means that they’re done with the conversation.

Before he leaves, Delein orders him a warm bowl of jajangmyeon to take home, and he takes it with an eagerness that makes the older man chuckle warmly. They say their usual goodbyes and Wooin promises to come back some time soon, the professor pats him on the back one last time with a hearty laugh.

And then he’s off into the starting sunset.

Hmm…

Even now after giving it much long thought, he still doesn’t understand what the older man meant, old debts? Shadows? Blood? It’s all so… cryptic.

His wonder and curiosity nearly blinds him to the faint shadowy figure which hides in a corner he can’t see, but the quick flash of energy makes him turn back just before he opens his door.

What… what was that?

Wooin briefly scans his surroundings, searching and failing to find that source of force, it felt… unsettlingly familiar. After a few minutes with nothing happening, he makes his way inside and shuts the door, all while keeping an eye outside.

“Hah…”

He’s too tired to think about it, so for now, he’ll let it go.

But he double bolts his door one last time before going to bed.

Just in case.

Chapter Text

The house smelled like warm cinnamon and burnt cookies from their failed attempt at making  dessert after hefty bowls of spicy Ramyeon (his was the non-spicy one of course). After their friends went home, it was just him and Jiwoo on the couch, bellies full and halfway to dream land, stroking their pets scattered around them with the TV playing a playthrough of a horror game by the other boy’s favourite youtuber.

Duke himself curled around Pluton, the dog’s chubby paws serving as a temporary stress ball, squished between Rocko and Kuromi (Jisuk told him its name, jokingly telling him how alike they looked, he still doesn’t see it), his warm weight fits snugly against his belly.

“You really like that, don’t you?”

Jiwoo’s soft whisper breaks him out of his sleep induced trance, blinking lazily over to where the other boy sat on the floor, petting Kayden on his lap and Kartein next to him, both felines snoring softly. Duke… really does like them, Rocko because… well, it’s Rocko, and he can’t be away from the plush without getting a panic attack (like a kid, though he mentally shakes the thought away), and Kuromi… he looks over to where the grumpy plush is placed on Pluton’s stomach, if he were honest, it was too girly for his taste, but it was way too cute, plus… his cheeks warm at the thought of the fact that it was Jiwoo who gave it to him… only the second thing to be really his, and he can’t describe just how grateful he was to the other boy, but no way was he gonna say that, so instead.

“Yeah… I like them”

The quiet giggle makes his chest warm, and then they were back to lazily watching the TV again, the youtuber screaming and cussing while they played a horror game with Japanese school girls and blood and gore, he’s way too used to worst things to be bothered by it anyway.

Tap.

… Huh?

Duke blinks, cold alert washing over him for reasons he can’t pinpoint yet, what was that?

Tap.

There it was again, what was that? He shoots up, startling Pluton awake, the dog spinning in clumsy circles trying to find the danger.

“Duke? What is it?”

He ignores the question, his panicked eyes finding the window instead, he can vaguely see… something, moving outside, and he shivers at how cold the air became. It could have been his imagination… right? It was probably just a branch, or rock knocking the glass because of the harsh wind (never mind that there were no trees outside of that window, nor was it even close to a storm right now).

As if sharing his feeling of alarm, Kaiden and Kartein also startle awake, mainly because the only dog in the house was now growling… at the same window where the noise was coming from.

“Wha- what? What’s happening?”

Kaiden’s groggy voice, unable to shake the sleep yet pierces the silence, Jiwoo himself now jumping to his feet, he must’ve felt it too. Duke hopes and prays it was nothing, that it was his mind playing tricks on him and that horrifyingly familiar, intimate energy wasn’t who he thought it was, unless-

Ding dong.

All eyes snap to the door, and they wait with baited breath.

Ding… dong.

None of them move, but only he froze out of fear, whoever it was outside definitely wasn’t trying to hide who they were, the shadow of their figure stretches through the door cracks, making long black tendrils cover the floor with red.

Wait… red?

BOOM.

Harsh winds rush through the room as the door explodes open, sharp wood chips at his cheeks as he gasps, fear washing over him in a way that makes his knees weak and his arms tremble.

When he was finally able to open his eyes again, he sees a sight that made his heart drop in cold dread to his stomach, mouth wide open and eyes as wide as a bunny’s caught in the jaws of a wolf.

No…

“Why, hello hello again”

As the smoke clears, a slender man emerges through the fog, sharp eyes and an even deadlier smile so impudently recognizable, but all Duke could see were the sharp teeth lined perfectly as the “stranger” walks towards him in slow, tentative steps.

“Duke…” purred to him through a soft, almost brotherly voice, “how very, very lovely it is to see you”.

He couldn’t even take a breath before he’s snatched by the arms, hugged tightly against a thin iron chest, and the last thing he sees before he passed out was blue lightning and Jiwoo’s shouts, his body jostling when he’s slung over Roist’s shoulder as he’s taken away, the quaint little house growing smaller and smaller until it fades into black night.

He… really can’t get a break, can he?

“Cough… cough”

His eyes sting from the dust and splinters in the air and his lungs ache for breath that doesn’t come, he’s only thankful he’s strong enough to be on his feet when he sees Duke being snatched by…

Roist?

Out of instinct, he rushes to the man holding his friend captive, lightning thunders on his fists as he punches the air, missing the man again and again, the sound of his laughter ringing in Jiwoo’s ears.

“Let him go!”

Desperation pushes him to ignore the pain in his body to keep trying and failing to at least get a hit on the man, but determination could only get him so far, and he can already feel himself starting to slow the longer Roist continues to dodge, realising too late that this was exactly what the other man planned all along.

No…

He misses his attack when the man shoots up in the air and through his roof, laughing maniacally as if in mocking, smile so wide it blinds him in the night, “sorry dear, but this is a family matter, ta ta!”.

Jiwoo couldn’t help the tears that bud in his eyes as he watches Duke’s unconscious body be flown higher… and higher away from him.

“No…”

Murderous urge erupts through him so sudden he couldn’t stop it, electricity lights the dark in blue and white, bright and blinding, all ignored as his chest blooms in pain so great he had to stamp down the urge to rip it open with his bare hands.

His friend… is gone, and that is a reality he isn’t ready to accept. 

The neighbourhood grows deaf from the scream that echoes through the house reminiscent of a beast in mourning. When it finally fades, only the smell of smoke and the echo of his grief remain.

Chapter Text

The cold night air soars briskly through his hair as he makes the quick journey back to the Frame’s headquarters, with his power, they could easily make it from and back in less than an hour, yet it felt like forever with the weight in his arms.

Roist glances down at the boy’s sleeping face, taking in his lax features yet torn by the furrow in his brow and the frown on his lips. He barely withheld the cynical giggle that threatens to tear its way out of his throat, oh… he can barely wait to show his catch to his master.

His mind swirls with the memory of their conversation just a day ago, the tension in the air so electrifying it could burn his tongue…

Hah… there he goes again.

He doesn’t even bother dodging the stray cross that nearly nips his ear, far too familiar with his master’s “tantrums” as he likes to call it, watches him train hours upon hours, when was the last time he ever taught him anything?

A final blow to the poor wall threatens to have the ceiling collapse on them, seems like he’s finally tired himself out.

“Huff… huff… huff”

Lord Schnauder drags himself to where a jug of water sits on a bench accompanied by a few towels, drinking it straight from the source instead of pouring it into the provided cup like the barbarian he is. It irks Roist, how far his master has fallen, once a proud, dignified man, now can’t even pour himself a glass of water.

“… Master, should you permit it, I have something I would like to discuss with you”

His lord doesn’t even honour him with a visible response, simply staying silent as if that were the only permission he’ll ever get, cleaning himself with the towel until his skin turns raw. He sighs to himself internally, irritation consumes his mind so vividly that he nearly loses himself, but he takes a few deep breaths, this is still Lord Schnauder after all, insane as he is, even he knows his place.

“What are you going to do with Grayne?”

He waits with held breath sharp in his throat, his lord’s shoulders tense yet tremble slightly, his own breath comes in short, aborted gasps as if he’s holding himself back. Perhaps… he’s said it too soon… maybe he should abort-

“Roist…”, the predatory growl as he spoke his name had his spine tingling… not in a pleasant way. The cutting glare from silver eyes reminds him of just who his master is.. and maybe, just maybe… he’s made a mistake.

“Don’t speak of him as if he were a vermin to dispose”, sweat drips down his chin, and when he looks at Roist over his shoulder, his breath catches. His lord’s eyes hold something deep, and old, older than he is… something he can’t identify, not yet, but it baffles him, nonetheless.

“Ye- yes my lord-” his mouth went dry as he stutters out his apology, but he’s interrupted by his master’s lowered voice in a quiet murmur, “I won’t let it happen twice”, if he wasn’t trained to be hyper aware of his surroundings he would’ve missed it.

Roist says nothing as he watches his lord skulk out the massive room in quick stomps, only when the heavy door slams shut with a loud bang did he finally feel like he could breath again.

… Seriously?

He scoffs to no one in particular, anger and disappointment swirls in his chest in a  deadly combination, strong enough it makes his fists tremble and his shoulders tense to his ears, does Lord Schnauder seriously not want to at least see Grayne again??? The boy had been dead! He’s seen it! Felt it as his master’s energy pierced his wounded body and grind him up to dust! And after all that he still chooses to run away?

Roist steps out of the room with murder in his blood and fury in his veins, the candle lit darkness only serves to fuel his flurry of emotions, ready to take it out on the next person he sees, turning a corner of the coridor leading to the common room to see…

Muse.

Standing at one of the massive windows looking out into the icy landscape that makes up their home, perfect. Gathering himself to at least look more presentable (on the outside, his heart still beats loudly in his chest) he walks to him in slow but powerful steps, purposefully making himself heard to the other man.

Muse was already looking back toward him when he slings an arm across his shoulders, smile wide yet the vein in his jaw shows his hidden irritation, but no matter, he needed something to… take the stress off anyway.

“Muse! My good man, how are you?”, purred right to his ear, relishing in the harsh flinch and mild slap he receives, ah, how easy it is to irk him sometimes, today is his lucky day it seems (despite everything). “I am well, though I don’t understand why you bother asking”, there is a hint of sorrow beneath the annoyance, and it peaks his interest the same way a wolf’s ears perks up at the smell of prey.

“Oh, nothing of note, though…”, he lowers his voice to a whisper, closely observing the other man’s reactions to his next words, “I heard something on the grapevine… that Duke Grayne is alive and well, did you know about this?”, the sharp intake of breath so imperceptible anyone else would have missed it, a very slight sheen of sweat on his neck makes it hard not to lick it, and the faux shock in glazed eyes.

Oh?

“… Really? Are you sure? That would be... impossible”, Muse shakes his head at him, seemingly adamant in his belief, perhaps not yet knowing that Roist has seen through him (or maybe he does, but still trying to hide from him), looking to the side and finding a stray snowflake landing on the frosted glass.

Roist doesn’t bother concealing the wicked grin on his face this time, already smelling the minute vulnerability from the other man, choosing to do something he rarely does… pounce.

“Oh really? You think so?” he observes Muse closely as he rummages through his pockets, finding the inconspicous piece of paper he’s been dying to show the other man the day he found it, his suspicions confirmed then and there.

“Then… mind explaining this, Muse?”

A loud, sadistic laugh nearly rips out his throat at the small gasp he receives, jaw clenched so tight he can hear his teeth grinding and shoulders tense to his ears as he shows off a receipt for a flight ticket.

Bingo.

 “I… what are you implying, Roist”, growled to him like a weak dog defending itself, Roist really can’t help the chuckle he lets out this time, slow and methodical, “I’m not implying anything… but maybe you can explain to me why this was found on your trail”. Confusion furrows his brows before recognition washes over him, replaced shortly after by cautious anger and apprehension.

“… I have nothing to say to you”, he lets Muse shoulder-check him aside as he makes a break to the door, but he doesn’t let him go far, stopping him with another question for his curiousity, “say, why were your shoes dirty that day?”, he gets an answer through the slam of a door, though…

He wasn’t the least disappointed.

Instead, a sudden thought crashes on to him like a freight train, enough to conjure up excitement large enough to make his knees tremble.

Say… he hasn’t spoken to Equinox in a while, hasn’t he?

Roist lands on the frigid snow with the grace of an owl carrying a hunt in it’s claws, deadly and hungry, as he stalks off in the dark hallways making his way to his lord’s personal quarters, where he knows he’ll be.

Stopping in front of the iron doors, he lets out a shaky breath, his arms trembling with the bare weight of the boy in his arms, before pushing them open with his shoulders. The air inside was still and heavy, dust clings to his throat every time he takes a heavy breath, yet underneath it all lies a slight rot of metal and blood.

“… My lord”, he speaks in slow, calculated tone to the beast looking out the tall window as if not to scare him (impossible, nothing scares his master), a soft smile curling his lips as he lays Duke down on the old carpets with the familiarity maybe only he knows.

He waits for his master to turn to look at him, crushing down the disappointment blooming in him when he doesn’t, instead clearing his throat and placing his hands behind his back, proper and tall as he presents his prey, “I’ve brought you something… something you may have been… missing?”

“What are you talking about?” his master still won’t look at him huh? Fine then, “oh come now… don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten his face?”, with a slow, almost lazy turn his master finally looks at him, and it took everything within Roist not to cackle at the deliciously shocked, almost scared look on his lord’s face.

“… Roist, what-” the boy stirs, almost awakened by the cacophony of familiar voices around him, but doesn’t open his eyes, and Roist licks his lips when Lord Schnauder looks, really looks, and his world seemed to tilt before his eyes.

He waits… and waits, yet his master says… nothing.

Just stares. And the silence is worst than everything how Roist imagined this would go, and he seethes, silent and impudent.

“… Well? Aren’t you going to say something, my lord?”.

Nothing.

Silence.

So thick it makes him choke, and he was just about to say something, anything, to break it before-

“Mmph…”

Both adults turn to look at the boy finally getting a grip over reality, groaning and tossing. They both wait in baited breath when Duke opens his eyes, watches as he groggily takes in his surroundings, before finally he shoots up with a frightened gasp.

“Wha- what-”

Red, doe-like eyes find their way to the frozen man in front of him, trembling like a newborn fawn in the snow, his lips shake as he lets out one, haunting word.

“… Master?”

And the sound that left his lord wasn’t anger nor relief, it was something older… heavier, and Roist feels dread shoot down his stomach.

He never should have brought him home.

Chapter Text

“… Master?”

The word echoed softly through the lonesome chamber, yet loud enough to shatter the room.

“… No”, Schnauder rasps, chest heaving up and down heavily like the air was too thick for him to breath, a parody of a sob tears out his throat as his voice trembles, “No- No I killed you… I know I did-”

Roist could only watch in bafflement at the scene in front of him unfolding like a dream, his master pacing around the room like a bear skulking his territory, and Grayne… sitting in front of him still frozen in terror, as if thinking if he didn’t move, no one would see him.

“M- Master-” maybe he can still save this… if his lord could just stay calm-

“Enough!” Schnauder’s voice erupted like thunder in the room, so sudden it made both of them flinch, he could only gulp in fear when those frenzied eyes took their gaze on him, “you think- you think this is funny, Roist? You think I’d-”.

With shaking hands he futilely points at the boy before him, gaze darting between Duke and Roist, predator and prey. All colour drained from his face, mouth gaping like a dead fish, “he’s dead”, he whispered, not for them, but himself, “I made sure of it”.

As if to prove something, his master kneels down before the boy, reaches a hand out and doesn’t withdraw from the primal gasp and flinch he gets from Duke, instead doing something Roist never could have seen coming.

“Don’t-” he doesn’t even know what or who he was warning, but it felt instinctive to do so, only for his next words to die in his throat when-

Schnauder strokes the boy’s cheek, his whole hand engulfs the small head, soft and almost filial, Duke’s soft whimpers lost between the two of them.

“… Warm”, whispered in awe, as if he doesn’t even believe himself, both of his hands now cradling Duke like a little lamb, “he’s… warm”, he breaths, fully collapsing with his head hung low and his shoulders shaking.

Roist was… stunned. He has seen his master, this very same man, slaughter armies upon the hundreds and thousands without flinching for years, even laughing in delight every time he does it (where do you think he inherited his insanity from?), but now… he could stare at him, broken beyond a boy’s trembling breath.

The two of them stay like that for a moment longer, Roist not daring to barge in the way between a bear and its cub, waiting in trembles for anything to break the silence.

And break it did.

In the form of a sharp gasp and a shove… coming from Duke. Schnauder looks as if he’d been struck by lightning, hurt so painfully evident across his face it makes Roist’s chest hurt with something he doesn’t want to identify.

The boy takes heavy gulps of air, eyes never leaving the man in front of him, before his face twists into ugly hatred, fear disguised as disgust.

“What the fuck?!”, shouted in a voice slightly higher pitched than what Roist was used to from him previously as he gets up on his trembling feet.

“...What did you just say?”

The words aren’t loud, just above a whisper, yet Roist could feel it’s weight on him as if they were directed towards him instead, though from the boy’s enraged shaking, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“You dare-” Schnauder rises to his full height, shoulders squared as if he’s repressing something violent, his face morphing from heartbroken shock to disguised anger.

”Stay away from me!”, Duke snaps back before he could finish his sentence, as if he’s forgotten just who is standing before him right now.

Roist doesn’t even breathe, doesn’t dare to.

It feels as if he’s watching a natural disaster just waiting to happen in this very room.

The man stills, like death frozen over.

And for a breathless second, Roist shivers as the air itself freezes, so cold he can see his breath, the candlelight flicker in the darkness as the shadows stretch long across the room.

“Stay away…”, Schnauder repeats, but his voice sounds distant, like a strangers’, cracked and worn and wrong. He takes a slow look at his own hands likes it’s something foreign he can’t recognize.

The fury from before vanished just as sudden as it came, leaving the air hollow with misery, replacing it with something else… bewildered horror. He staggers for a moment, and Roist is half tempted to catch him, but he keeps his hands to himself in fear of losing them if he did.

“I saw you die”, he murmurs, to no one but himself, “you- I burned you myself”, his breath  trembles as his eyes go wide in horror. Pointing a shaking finger to the ghost, he asks a question heavy on his mind, “So tell me… who- what, are you?”.

If Roist thought he’s seen everything tonight, it became apparent that it wasn’t, for the fear in his master was foreign and wicked, and if he weren’t his ever loyal disciple, he would have pounced at the first chance to exploit it.

He looks to the boy, he wanted to know too, though it was a question he kept to himself, his past giddiness burying it into the graveyard far within his mind.

But Duke doesn’t answer.

His glare weakens, and for a second Roist saw fear (not for Lord Schnauder, he felt, how curious) glaze over his eyes, faltering in the face of such intensity. But it disappeared only a moment after, a new fire lighting his eyes in scarlet framed by candlelight, so intense it almost made Roist step back.

“What does it matter?” he brushes off invisible dust off himself, as if dismissive of the entire situation (though the tremble in his fingers betrays this), refusing to meet either of their eyes.

Now it’s Schnauder’s turn to scoff in disbelief, hands on his hips resembling a scolding parent, “what- what does it matter? Hah! You-” he laughs without mirth, empty and void of emotions, so unlike what Roist was used to.

Duke’s face twists horribly into ugly resentment, morphing his young features making him look older, voice venomous with long withheld fury, “it doesn’t matter because YOU killed me” he spits, “so I don’t even know why you care”.

For the first time that night, Schnauder’s mouth opens, then shuts, speechless, and for a moment Roist wants to interject, but his lord’s angry glare makes him shut his mouth before he loses his tongue.

“You think I wanted to?”, his voice tears out of his throat like a strangled cry of a wolf, sharp and ragged, wounded and hurt, “you think I enjoyed it?”. His hands trembled where they hang beside him in fists, poorly contained emotions threatening to spill with one wrong move (and Roist is sure it won’t be him who does it).

“You sure looked like you did!”, the boy cries, unshed tears makes his eyes shine in the candelight like rare rubies, unafraid yet he shakes under his master’s eyes.

The man flinches, ever so slightly, almost imperceptable, a guilty look flashing his eyes only for a second before it’s extinguished by red, hot fury concealed under snow.

“I did what had to be done”, he sounds more like he’s convincing himself, whispered among the cold dreary room now soaked with tension. “If I didn’t you-”, he swallows air thickly, looking so tortured it almost makes Roist feel guilty where he stands in the sidelines, his own fingers clasped tightly behind his back as he watches the exchange with passive eyes and a tight jaw.

“If I didn’t, you would have suffered”, for the first time in a while Schnauder moves forward and stops in front of the boy, and it startles Duke enough to make him stumble back and almost trip, holding his arms around himself as he shakes and breaths out a slight gasp.

Though cowed, he watches with fascinated awe at how the boy still has the bravery to look at their lord in the eyes, “I wouldn’t have suffered if you really cared”, about me, but it was left unsaid, the words cut deeper than any blade his master could conjure.

Silence.

Heavy.

Thick like hot licorice stuck in his throat, and Roist struggles to breath.

In the fading light, he sees something snap in his master’s eyes, a glint of his old cruelty coming back to life again, and for the first time in his life he fears for the boy in a way he has never before.

But instead of the explosion he foresaw, Schnauder wilts against Duke’s unweilding eyes, shoulders slack and head hung low as he breaths out a long sigh of hinted despair.

He turns away before either of them could see his face, hair covering his eyes (though Roist swore he saw them gleaming wetly under the fire), the atmosphere heavy with things none of them wanted (or could) say.

“Get him out”, he mutters to Roist as he makes his way to the door, ready to get away from whatever… this, is, “before I do something I can’t take back again”.

Both he and Duke could only watch as the door shuts with a dull thud, and he hears the boy let out a choked sob, though he does nothing to comfort him.

After all, he’s the one who got them into this mess.

And now… Roist has no idea how to get them out of it.

Chapter Text

The water was cold against his burning flesh, yet as biting as it was it still wasn’t enough to scrub away the terrifying guilt that lays beneath his bones.

“I wouldn’t have suffered if you really cared”.

He shuts the screen as a way to shut that voice out of his head, replaying like a broken phonograph, and his chest constricts so strongly that he could barely breath behind the hot steam from his abrupt shower.

His hand scratches at his head as he takes a few deep breaths, composure slipping from his fingers the more he tries.

Mercy.

It was mercy.

He had to do it, or else the boy (Duke Grayne, or have you forgotten his name?) would have suffered a lifetime of excruciating pain.

Mercy, because anyone else wouldn’t have ended him so quickly.

… But mercy didn’t look like red eyes gazing up at him with falsified hope (hope that he buried).

He wondered, that maybe, maybe, if he had paid better attention to him, he wouldn’t have become… the way he did. Perhaps, he could have been great, even greater than Roist, even, if he had only just taught him instead of burying himself under his egoistic throne.

He leans against the frosted glass, the reflection that looks back at him so strange he almost took a step back, red rimmed eyes framed by dark eyebags, swollen and foreign. He blinks, and for a second the one on the glass wasn’t him anymore.

Pale skin, red eyes, the smell of smoke and human flesh.

“Warm”, he whispers, the word tasting putrid in his mouth it makes him grimace.

… He needed answers. He needed to know how his ghost has come alive to haunt him. And he needs to know just where he has been before… this (was he safe? Did he starve? Was he alone? Was he hurt-).

With newfound determination, he pushes himself off the sink and wraps a loose towel around his waist, false bravado beckons him to the door where Roist waits for him outside.

Pushing the door open (and ignoring Roist’s subsequent flinch), calm and collected.

Too calm, maybe.

“Bring him to me”, Schnauder says, voice smooth and even, watches with impassive eyes as his disciple bows and proceeds his command.

He will get his answers.

Whether Duke likes it or not.

The heavy oak doors creak open as Roist ushers the boy in, a fleeting hand on his shoulder in false reassurance, and without his earlier anger he looked even smaller than usual, but the fire of defiance in his eyes grow stronger with each step he takes closer.

Schnauder ignores them at first, back turned towards them, illuminated by the candlelight, every bit of the strong and mighty one everyone perceives him to be. He hears Roist shuffle a bit closer to him, clearing his throat to gain his attention (unnecessarily).

“As you commanded, my lord”, whispered in reverance.

“Leave us”, he says without turning, voice calm and even, only giving his attention to his ghost once he hears the door close and footsteps walk away. Silence reigns over the two of them, the chill in the air doesn’t cool the sweat he sees gleaming on the boy’s forehead.

Duke stood there, still stubborn, still defiant, but beneath it he sees, was something else. Hurt. Confusion. Unresolved anger. The ghost of a boy he dared see as his, once.

“Do you know why you’re here?”, Schnauder finally asks, voice worn and tired as he lifts his gaze at him.

“… To finish what you started, I suppose”, the boy whispers back, his fingers playing with the hems of his oversized sweater, refusing to meet his eyes.

The man’s lips twitch, not quite a smile. “you think too small”, he steps forward, slow and purposeful, stopping at arms length. “You died, Duke, I know you did, so tell me…”, he leans until their faces were inches from each other, he’s almost tempted to make the boy look at him, but he does nothing.

“What are you now?”

Duke doesn’t answer immediately, only sighing in a way that ages him, his brows furrow in deep creases, “you won’t understand”, he looks away, as if a painful memory just passed by him (was he hurt? By who-).

“That’s fine”, he says, standing to full height and makes his way to his desk, sitting down and beckoning the boy to sit across him where a large chair waits, “after all, we have nothing but time”.

Duke takes a shuddering breath, shoulders up to his ears where he sits in a chair that engulfs him, but after a moment of hesitance, he talks.

And Schnauder, for the first time, truly listens.

The sun paints a picture of violet and gold as it ascends, the hours flying by to no regard in their little world.

When Duke finally stopped speaking, the candles have already burned through the midnight oil, now a puddle of white wax and smoke.

Schnauder hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, stoically listening intently, only slipping through the clench of jaw or his fists wound so tightly it nearly broke skin. The boy’s words hung like the candle smoke in the air, heavy, bitter, and unforgiving, it’s implications impossible to simply wave away.

Neither of them say a word, letting the silence wash over them in cold waves as they process everything. It was only broken with the man’s shaky intake of air and his fist clenched tightly in front of his mouth.

“I see”, whispered softly like a secret between them.

He sees the hollow look in the boy’s eyes, whatever anger that burned there is now nothing but ash, and he hates, hates himself for not being able to comfort him like he should.

There were so many things he wanted to ask still, who were they? What was the organisation that tortured him so badly that only a husk of him sits before Schnauder at this very moment? And how can he punish them for what they have done-

But Duke’s sleepy yawn makes him pause in wait, he supposed, the questions aren’t important… not right now.

“Come”, he circles his desk and pulls the boy up gently by the arms, for his own wellbeing he ignored the way he tensed when Schnauder touches him, instead guiding him to the day couch which sat to the side of his study by the window.

“Sleep”, he orders, ensuring his voice is soft and whispered, waits diligently by Duke’s side as the boy slowly (albeit hesitantly) falls into slumber, his frown smooths into gentle lines as his chest rises and falls in steady breaths.

Even as his “mission” was complete, he doesn’t move, like a statue he stays frozen until a knock on his door interrupts his thoughts.

“… Sir?”, Roist’s voice came muffled from behind the heavy wood, and although he’s in no mood to entertain him right now, he lets him in anyway.

Roist opens his mouth to say something, but he pauses in shock when he sees the small figure lying on the day bed, blissfully asleep.

“Leave him”, Schnauder gruffs, “he’s had a long night”.

His disciple simply clears his throat as if it didn’t bother him (but the clench in his jaw betrays him), instead telling him what he came here for.

“Muse has asked for your audience”

Schnauder suppresses the incoming headache and sighs.

Great… what now?

Chapter Text

The sun was shining brightly that morning, a sharp contrast to the usual glum that graces their side of the world, though it does nothing to warm the cold in Schnauder’s chest as he walks to one of their many common rooms, steps heavy and thundering.

When he opens the door, he’s greeted by Muse standing by the window, eyes closed and serene as if he’s soaking in the rare sunrise, and for a moment he feels a wave of irritation bubble in his chest, how dare this lowly disciple summon him? (And why did he comply?), but his thoughts halt when he catches the willowly silhouette of a woman on one of the couches, elegantly poised as she sips her tea.

Supri?

“Schnauder, how lovely to see you, please, take a seat”

She gestures to the seat across her with her fleeting eyes, refusing to meet his as he hesitantly makes his way over to sit on the plushed cushions which feel like needles prickling his overheated skin.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Muse looking at him with an unreadable expression, was it sorrowful? Knowing? It was almost as if the younger man felt pity for him, and it makes his hackles rise (oh, how lowly he’s fallen, perhaps Roist was right-).

“I have been hearing the most peculiar news”, she says after clearing her throat, carefully putting her cup down before finally facing him for the first time that day, “would you care to explain?”. Her aged eyes have this look to them, one Schnauder can’t identify himself, though… she doesn’t seem to be cross, just… expectant.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, he takes his usual position, leaned back with his cheek in a hand and his leg crossed over the other, the image of his assured confidence and subtle cockiness. He bristles internally when she lets out an amused huff, her hand signaling to her own disciple to take a seat next to her.

“Muse here has told me everything, Schnauder, so I don’t appreciate you trying to lie to me”, her eyes sharpened and her energy threatens to crush the room, her way of threatening him. Schnauder lets out a steady exhale of breath, willing his nerves to get it together before her, knowing that even a hint of weakness in these walls is a surefire to death.

“… if you know everything, tell me, what do you know?” it’s weak, the redirection, he knows this, but he has to be careful, too much or too little can threaten everyone’s safety (not his, never his, but that boy on the other hand, is a different story).

For a moment, silence engulfs the room, Supri has her finger tapping on the cushions as her brows furrow in thought.

“… I am aware that Duke Grayne is alive and well, though I don’t necessarily know how” she begins, guard lowered slightly with apprehension, “and I have been made known that you are currently holding him captive in your chambers”.

Schnauder visibly bristles, holding him captive? “It is none of your business of what I do with my disciple”, he growls at her in a way that makes her shoulders tense, though she doesn’t back down, “your disciple is dead, Schnauder, I was there” her voice was cold yet authoritive, every bit of the stubborn woman she is, “surely, whatever he is, that is no longer your student”.

Amidst the threat of a catastrophe, Muse bravely puts a gentle hand on his master’s arm, tone soft with a hint of scared confidence, “but it is Duke Grayne, milady, I told you didn’t I?”. He shrinks when both powerflul beings snap their heads to look at him, sweat coats his brow as he gulps nervously.

“What? What did you tell her?”, Schnauder demands, halfway into standing with how enraged he is, “I- I simply-” Muse couldn’t help but stutter under the presence of such a man, especially when he’s already so angry.

“Muse has helped Grayne before, much before all of this”, his benevolent master answers for him, though he looked as if he wanted to be buried in the ground when Schnauder just grew even more enraged, his energy threatening to tear the walls down.

“What does that mean? You knew?”, though it was nothing but a whisper, barely concealed fury lies beneath it, Muse knew? Supri knew? Did everyone know Duke was alive except for him? The lies and betrayals swirl in his mind as he shakes, breath coming in short pants as he stands to his full height.

“Calm down, Schnauder”, Supri stands as well, as if in challenge, “if you take us down, you will never get your answer”, that made him pause, that is true, as much as he wanted to simply kill Muse for his insubordination, he wanted his questions answered, so he buries the rage and sits down, though he doesn’t bother concealing his scowl of displeasure.

As they sit, Muse clears his throat when he’s nudged by his master, looking more like a cowed child than the grown man that he is, “A few months ago, I was exxecuting my patrols when I felt a familiar energy from beyond the woods”, he begins, straight to the point, “I followed it and found him in front of hunting cabin, where he lived with a human man”.

A human? Schnauder sits up, intrigued, a human helped him? Interesting, “though I doubt the man knew what he was, so I lingered whenever I could”, a soft smile graces his delicate features, as if in memory, “he’s smart, Duke, he sensed my presence no matter how much I hid”. He swallows the chuckle that threatened to escape him, of course he’s smart, Schnauder raised him himself, to think otherwise is pure stupidity.

“But…” his voice took a more sorrowful note, and he braces himself for whatever might come next, “I knew he couldn’t stay there forever, and he knew this too, so…”, Supri has a hand laid softly on his shoulder as if in consolation. “I gave him a choice, stay and ruin the man, or flee and save them both”, Muse takes a shaky breath, “he chose to run”.

Silence.

Schnauder took this as an opportunity to reflect on what he knew so far, so Duke had somehow survived and stumbled to this human man, who presumably took him in, and he stayed until he was forced to leave. The mere notion of it strikes a knife to his heart, though some more questions still remained, why would he use his powers if he were hiding? Who was this man? What was their relationship?

“I merely helped him to escape, I took him to a secluded airport and sent him over to Chad”, Muse’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, the other man having composed himself, now sitting straight with his hands clenched in his lap, “that is all I know”, his tone clipped in finality.

For a moment, only the ticking on the nearby grandfather clock filled the room, both Muse and Supri look at him with expectant looks in their eyes, and Schnauder’s skin grows hot at their gazes, the soft fabric of the cushions makes him itch.

“… The human, what is his name?”, the question came unexpected, it wasn’t what he truly wanted to ask, but it escaped his mouth before he could stop it. “… His name was Peter, with his dog, Rocko, if I’m not mistaken”, Muse answers after a beat, equally taken aback by what is considered to be insignificant.

Schnauder leans against the couch with a sigh, crossing his arms with furrowed brows and a frown, so much uncertainty, Duke Grayne became more of an enigma than he first thought. The more he thinks, the more dots he’s connected, from what Muse told him and the boy’s story paints… an ugly picture. His jaw clenches so hard it grinds his teeth, a headache blooms in his temples that can’t be rubbed away, he’s so… done, with this, it's too much in one day, now he just wants to lie in bed and close his eyes-

“A piece of advice, if you may”, he very nearly exclaims in frustration when Supri’s voice breaks the quiet, only gracing her with a glance as a response. “I suggest you let him go”, Schnauder freezes, his heart stops as his blood runs cold, “… what?”, he looks at her, bewildered, what is she saying?

“Schnauder, you have to remember that this boy holds a life far beyond you and these walls”, her tone was quiet and borderline motherly, so much so it makes him bristle, “as far as I’m concerned, you might have stolen him from those that truly care”. Schnauder nearly hissed at her and her implications, stolen? Him? And how does she know that he might have been cared for?

“I don’t appreciate what you’re implying, Supri”, he murmurs, exhaustion laces his body as his eyes threaten to close shut, but she only answers him with the softening of her gaze. “What I’m saying, is that Duke Grayne is not yours anymore, it is time to let him go”, she ends with a sip of her tea, he didn’t even notice she has poured herself a cup, enfuriatingly knowing and wise.

He’s sick of this.

He doesn’t grace her with a response, instead he stands up so abruptly the couch skids back with a screech, his stomps echo throughout the large room as he opens and shuts the door with a loud bang, not even hiding his contempt.

Just who does she think she is? His mother? She has no right to-

Schnauder shuts his eyes with a groan, his fingers rising to rub the migraine at his temples away to no avail.

He’ll solve this.

After he takes a long, dreamless nap.

In another part of the world, a moonless night shrouds the skies with darkness and solemn, where a boy sits on a hard sofa as he gazes out into the city with a hard look in his eyes.

“Jiwoo, are you sure about this?”

Jiyoung’s melodic voice puts a halt to his thoughts, just as he’s about to answer, another, sharper tone interrupts him.

“Of course he’s sure, what? Think he’s just gonna stand there and let his friend go missing? Hell no, right kid?”

Jiwoo turns to his mentor with grateful eyes, the ruffle he gets on his hair makes him chuckle slightly, though it doesn’t dissolve the heaviness in his chest. He grips the plushie in his fingers as he plays with it’s ears, just like how it’s owner used to, determination evident in his intense gaze.

“Hold on, Duke”, he says, voice soft yet resolute, “we’re coming”.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t the sound of crackling wood on fire that wakes him, instead, it was the unusual quiet in the darkness that eerily makes his breath sound like thunder in his ears.

Duke opens his eyes to black and gentle light of candles and the fireplace, warmth seeps into his bones it almost makes him slip into slumber again. Though tempting, this isn’t Jiwoo’s house, so like it or not, he has to get up (lest Roist kidnaps him again), so he pushes away the thick blanket (when did that get here?), shivers when his bare feet touch the cold floor.

Huh, bare feet? He looks around in confusion, red eyes flitting until they find his shoes and socks tucked under the couch. With an annoyed huff, he puts them on and gets up, boredom settling in like snow on wood.

Maybe he should… take a walk? Although… sadness crashes into him as memory floods in, considering his history here… but still. The stone floor eminates chill that rides up his legs as he exits the room, shutting the heavy door behind him with a heavy thud, now he’s just standing in the middle of the hallway… like an idiot.

Hmm… he knows left will lead to Lord Schnauder’s quarters (and no way in hell does he wanna go there), but if he goes right…

Shrugging, he decides to explore a bit, he doesn’t remember where this path leads to, but the Frame is isolated enough in this time of night, students already tucked in bed and asleep, so there’s no need to worry about… hostile encounters.

The more he walks, the brighter the flames get, and soon he reaches another room where faint whispers fill the silence. Curious, he pushes open the door, only to freeze when he sees it’s inhabitants.

Roist…. And Muse.

Breath stuttering in his throat, he was just about to close the door and make a break for it when he accidentally makes eye contact with a gentle green gaze, frozen on the spot like a deer in headlights.

“… Duke, please, do come in”

Muse’s surprised voice breaks his haze, and he hesitates further when Roist’s passive (yet slightly hostile) eyes find him, only broken when the other man harshly nudges him with a soft “stop that”.

With his shoulders to his ears and arms wrapped around his body, he makes his way over to the two men, clearly favouring Muse’s presence rather than his (ex) senior. “Hello, it’s been a while”, Duke was too caught in Roist’s intense gaze that he flinches when the older man addresses him, ignoring the slight pity in his eyes.

“Uhm… hi, I guess”, mentally, he slaps himself, because what is that response? It’s pathetic, he figured that he should at least be respectful (though there is a tiny bit of resentment left over in his heart because this man tore him away from his first home). Roist’s scoff makes him look over with a weak glare, “hah! That’s it? Honestly, after all that trouble…”, Duke could feel a vein in his forehead threaten to pop, trouble? Him? He was the one who-

SMACK

A shared gasp of shock makes the air colder than it was before, Muse’s gloved hand stays frozen in the air as Roist holds his reddening cheek, “shut up Roist, as if you deserve a say in anything”, he waves his hand in the air nonchalantly, as if he never even touched a fellow Senior Disciple.

The other man’s surprised laughter sounds shrill among the four walls, enough to make the windows shake. Duke could only watch with bewildered eyes at the exchange, because what the fuck was that?

“Huhu, I didn’t know you had that in you Muse!”, Roist’s amused chortle doesn’t go away even with Muse’s freezing glare, that slap looked as if it’s been held back for a while now… wonder what that’s all about.

“ I apologise, Duke, that was unsightly of me” he says, instead of paying attention to Roist, looking over sympathetically at Duke, not even a hint of regret in his face. It almost makes him laugh (almost), “it’s fine…”, he says, almost shyly, taking immense relief at the pleased smile he gets in return.

“How… how have you been?” now it’s Muse’s turn to sound shy, cheeks a light pink as a hand scratches his neck. The buried resentment raises it’s head in Duke, and he’s almost tempted to be spiteful, but… that wouldn’t be very nice (especially to one of the very few who were kind to him).

“I’ve been… okay, I guess”, he answers instead, fighting away that ugly feeling. The man lets out a relieved breath, “I’m glad to know” whispered only to him, still laced with guilt. “Such a blatant lie, there is no way you would be okay after that”, Roist’s infuriatingly sly voice makes it harder to be nice, but Duke’s blood runs cold at the implications, after what? That? Does he know? What does he know-

“Roist! That’s enough”, Muse’s harsh voice scolds the other man, who doesn’t even grace him with a lying look of regret, instead growing even more smug. His heart beats wildly in his chest as his sweat coats his brow, panic grips it’s claws into him and he can’t breath.

“Duke?” it was only when he feels a hand on his shoulder does he breaks out of it, hazy eyes looking up in confusion to see a concerned gaze, “are you okay?”, he exhales a shaky breath, willing himself to calm the fuck down, “…. I will be”.

Muse lets out a relieved sigh, “alright”, he says, but after a moment he hesitates, almost like he wants to say something but is holding back. “I-” he starts, only to falter and gather himself, “I’m… sorry” he whispers a moment later, his eyes refusing to meet Duke’s, finding the floor much more interesting.

The boy could only gape like a dying fish, “for what?”, he watches as the man fidgets, as if trying to find the right way to say it, “for… taking you away”, he murmurs, “I thought I was doing the right thing…” his voice laden with a heavy yet repressed guilt, hands laced on his front as he bows at the waist.

“I was selfish… I’m truly sorry”.

Duke (and Roist, to some degree), could only watch in shock, this man… a man higher in ranking from him by eons, is bowing… to him. “I…” he’s speechless, truly, “I’ll forgive you… in time” and isn’t that the statement of the century?

Muse raises to full height with glazed eyes, quietly sniffling to himself, he hears Roist sigh and grumble something beside him, so he looks over with heated annoyance, “what?”, he asks, voice cutting and cold.

“… I suppose I, too, owe you an apology”.

His former senior sighs as he bows, not as low as Muse did, with his hand on his chest, he says quietly, “I’m sorry for kidnapping you”, formal with not a hint of regret, but… Duke will take it, “fine… but you owe me”, he grumbles, arms crossing across his chest in a brave show of brattiness.

The older man straightens with a huff and an eye roll, and Duke almost stuck his tongue out at him out of spite. Muse lets out an amused chuckle at their display, fuelling Roist’s short temper, and he watches with mirth at their quarrel.

“So… do you have any plans after this?” Muse questions as the fight dies down, genuinely curious, “I don’t know… I just want to go home”, now that he thinks about it, he’s so… tired, tired of these grey walls, the ambient candlelight, the darkness, the cold… all he wants is to go home to Jiwoo and crash out on the couch surrounded by purring kittens.

“Well, that could certainly be arranged, I will-“

BOOM

The ground shakes and the walls crack as a loud thunder cuts through the air, all of them gasp and cover their ears as it rings in their heads.

What was that? That sounds as if-

A familiar wave of electricity engulfs the room as it crackles in the air, and they all freeze at the dawning realisation of just who it belongs to. Muse lets out a stuttering breath as he utters the name of the monster in their world,

“Kayden”

Chapter Text

“Kayden”

Duke flinches at the name, Kayden? Kayden Break? What is he doing here- realisation dawns over him, a giddy feeling blooms in his chest, if Kayden is here then that means-

“Jiwoo”, he exhales the name with reverance.

With no further thought, he runs across the room, ignoring Muse’s shouts of alarm as he pulls the door open and runs to where the danger is.

He’s here.

And he’s here to save him.

Across the halls he hears commotion, and when he reaches the doors to Lord Schnauder’s quarters, pushes it open with all his might, gasping in awe at the chaos that unfolds.

There, stands the man of the century, hands on his hips with a smile resembling a hungered wolf, confronting Schnauder who stands stoically in front of him.

“So, Schnauder, it seems you possess someone my apprentice holds dear”

Kayden mocks as the other man scowls, but Duke ignores that as his eyes search for his friend, and when he finally finds him, tucked behind his own master with a face as furious as a tornado at sea.

“Jiwoo!”

He couldn’t help but yell, excitement runs through his veins as he runs over, or at least tries to, until a massive hand lands on his chest to stop him, his heart stopping as he looks up to the glazed eyes of his former master looking down at him in conflict.

“Duke!”

His friend screams, only to be held back by Kayden holding him by the neck of his shirt like a scruffed kitten.

“Kayden… you have no business being here”

Schnauder snarls, and Duke could feel it reverberating through his whole body as he flinches. The aforementioned man seemed unbothered, bored even, as he picks out his ear and blows at his finger, nonchalant and so infuriatingly him.

“Yeah I do, didn’t you hear what I said? Are you as deaf as you are stupid?”

He winces at the brutality of those words, he could see Lord Schnauder’s vein on his jaw where he clenches it so hard he can almost hear his teeth grind, sharing a sympathetic look with Jiwoo across from him.

Instead of answering, once again he finds himself captivated by the man’s eyes as they look at him, full of sorrow and guilt, of things left unsaid and rife with grief. Duke pulls out the best pleading eyes he could, looking up at him with wide, doe-like red eyes as he silently begs, tempted to get on his knees, even.

His former master lets out a shaky sigh, shutting his eyes as he looks away, and finally, finally.

He lets go.

Duke wastes no time in running across the small space to Jiwoo’s arms, letting the taller boy hug and coddle him to his hearts content, whispers of “you’re safe” and “I’m so glad” go lost in his hair.

“Great! Now that that’s over, let’s get to the fun part”

He almost forgot the most powerful awakener alive is still standing in the room, and he lets himself be dragged behind Jiwoo as the man readies his energy with the grace of an enraged bull.

“Wait”

Schnauder soft yet commanding voice shocks Kayden to pause as he walks over, and Duke tenses against his friend as dread grips his heart in fear. What is he doing? Is he gonna take him away again? Drag him away and lock him up? Hurt him?-

His shuts his eyes tightly as he holds his breath, feeling the other boy hugging him tighter than ever before as if they shared the same fear, but instead-

The hands he anticipated did not come.

Confused, he opens his eyes to the most shocking sight in his life.

His former master, one of the Top Ten, Lord Schnauder, was kneeling in front of him, to him, for him.

He gapes at the large hand offered in front of him paired with eyes so full of sorrow and desperation he could almost tear up.

“Do you want this?”

So slowly whispered to him he almost didn’t catch it among the ringing in his ears, eye to eye with the man who built him… and destroyed him.

“I-”

He hesitates. Why is he hesitating? He could only managed to stare at the hand offered to him by the man, he knows what he wants to do, he wants to push it away, swear at him, sneer at him, show him just how much he’s hurt him, but instead-

“I do… I want this”

He says, just as softly, but resolute and determined.

Lord Schnauder pauses for one more second, before he withdraws his shaky hand with an exhale, head hanging down as if he’s lost a battle he was never going to win.

The large man stands to full height, but it doesn’t feel scary or intimidating this time, just… the shadow of a being he once was, staring down at him with tearful eyes, “… stay safe” he murmurs as he walks away.

… That’s it?

Duke almost wants to stop him, to hold his hand and tell him everything he wanted to say in the past, but as the man’s broad back goes further and further away from him, he can’t find it in himself to do so.

“Wait!”

His head snaps over to the elephant in the room, he… totally forgot Kayden was still here, and it seemed like Schnauder did too.

“Don’t you wanna fight?! That’s all I came here for!”

Enraged, the man stomps his foot to the ground like a berieved toddler, scowling at his “enemy” with ferocity that doesn’t match his behaviour.

“I told you before, didn’t I? I don’t want to fight you, not now, not ever”

Schnauder responds in annoyance, already making a break to the door in thundering footsteps, determined to get away from this man as fast as humanly possible.

Jiwoo giggles at the childish display, loosening his grip to fully face his friend, all soft with nothing of the earlier fury left over, saying the words Duke has been dying to hear.

“Come on, let’s go home”

He lets out a repressed breath, unable to see through the tears in his eyes, and in the first time in his life he feels… truly happy.

“Yeah… let’s go home”