Archive of Our Own

The night was still young, the moon had only just risen to its peak high above the  clouds. and the stars have all gathered to twinkle together in the night around it. The time was perfect, just what Ganji needed.

     The batter had been waiting all day for this hour, pacing around his room and trying to be as quiet as possible when tossing his cricket ball around in boredom. The manor didn’t have very good places to practice cricket, they weren’t even allowed to go far enough outside without being immediately disqualified. To Ganji, that was worse than only being allowed to practice one day in the whole week. He’d been given the freedom to practice whenever he wanted, but left with nowhere to do so besides his bedroom. 

     However, he’d been looking for a better place to practice ever since he noticed that a fellow participant seemed to be startled by the way the ball would hit the far wall at night. She never outright said anything about it, but she didn’t need to. Ganji could easily see it on her face that it bothered her. And ever since he realized it, he noticed that a sense of questioning began to appear behind her eyes, like she was investigating him with her gaze. It made the polite smile she flashed whenever their paths crossed seem somewhat saccharine in a way. And even if that wasn’t the case, he certainly could be overthinking it. But he couldn’t let himself believe that. And it sort of hurt, having to assume the worst out of that woman. But he has to do everything he can to protect himself and get back home. No matter the cost.

     Either way, it doesn’t matter what she meant by it. he hated that look, it put a deep, familiar yet dreadful pit in his stomach. But he supposed her apprehension kept her at bay, at least. Though despite how little he wanted to interact with everyone else, the air around the manor was already thick with awkwardness and aversion where everyone seemed to be repelling one another like magnets with the same polarity, so he’d rather not perpetuate it any further. Besides, the ball was starting to make dents in the thin wallpaper. And Ganji didn’t feel like explaining it to the maids next time the rooms got tidied up. 

     Actually, he already knew the perfect place to practice: the greenhouse. It was open, surrounded by beautiful flowers, the sunshine gleamed through the windows and it was wonderfully warm. And better yet, the stone walls were thick enough so that the others wouldn’t be disturbed. Problem solved, right?

     Or so you’d think. Things never seem to go his way these days. The garden always tends to be occupied during the day, or at least whenever Ganji thinks of going in to shake the rust off his cricket skills. The person who'd always been there was a man Ganji dubbed ‘the manor’s ghost’ in his head. Because he never seems to spot him up close, he usually hangs back in the shadows as if he were looming over the others. Watching them for who knows why. Whenever they’d walk past each other in the halls it’d feel like a cold breeze blowing through him. And sometimes he’d only catch a glimpse of his gray hair as the man turned a corner if he was lucky. And if he blinked, he’d miss him. And on the off chance their eyes would meet, it felt like his cold, dead eyes stared straight through him right before they ripped away. He didn’t like him much.

     That man freaked him out, sent a shiver down his spine and lit a tiny ember of dread deep down in his gut. And that’s why he preferred to keep his distance, avoiding him at practically any cost. And that’s why he won’t enter the greenhouse while he’s there. But unfortunately for Ganji, Mr. Carl is in the greenhouse quite often. Almost like it was claimed territory. 

     But at this time of night? Surely he couldn’t be. Why would he? What reason could he possibly have to stay there at this  ungodly hour?  Surely, surely he’s away in his room by now with absolutely no business to attend to in the garden. 

     So, when the midnight hour struck, Ganji slipped out of his room as quiet as a mouse. Carrying his bat and ball in tow as he sneaked his way through the halls towards the garden’s entrance. It was against the rules of the game to sneak out at night and roam the halls. And for someone so enthralled with his sport, he sure loved to bend them. He just prayed that this rebellion won’t affect whether he wins or loses. Well, only if he gets caught.

     The manor was quiet, as it usually was. But the silence was somehow more spine-chilling at night. Perhaps it was because of the darkness, with a pitch-black shadow in every corner that almost made it seem like the walls were closing in on Ganji. Or was that just him? His only saving grace was the moonlight peeking through the closed curtains that guided him down the corridors. Ganji made sure to watch each step and listen carefully in case a floorboard would make a particularly loud creak and announce his presence. But each step towards his destination filled him with more fear. And if Ganji dared to close his eyes to ignore the way the shadows morphed into silhouettes of his past regrets, he’d only be met with visions of flames. And suddenly the walls would look…

     familiar. 

     Ganji shook his head to clear out his mind of its cobwebs, taking a deep breath and clutching his cricket ball tightly. All he had to do was make it to the greenhouse, that was all he needed to do. He can do that, one foot in front of the other. Let the stars outside guide you.

     He was already close by, the hardest part was getting through the dining hall. And it wasn’t long before he had made it to the greenhouse door. After which he let out a long-contained breath as he stood in front of it, thank goodness he memorized where it was. He didn’t want to spend another second in the darkened manor hallways. 

     That relief would only last mere seconds though, because when he pushed the door open his heart immediately dropped out of his ribcage and plopped into his stomach where it was then boiled by stomach acid. 

     ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ Ganji thought to himself as he spotted the embalmer in his usual place, on the bench in front of the yellow rose bushes. With that ominous black case sat next to him like a signature item that identified him. He seemed normal, however, he was so still; more than usual. He seemed to have fallen asleep out there. Ganji would like to just ignore him, but It was hard to miss him. His pale features practically turned the moonlight into his own personal spotlight. 

     And even so, he really didn’t want to turn back now and waste all that waiting. His disappointment started to fade away and be swiftly replaced by spite as he entered the greenhouse anyway. He’ll be damned if he’s waited this long to practice and is just turned away by the mere sight of another person. (Ignoring every other time he did just that.) So he made his way towards the corner of the garden as inconspicuously as he could. It was hard to get into position with the way the greenhouse was set up. It was very obviously made without the idea that a cricketeer would be trying to practice in it. So in order to get the best angle on the back walls, Ganji had to stand a little too close to the embalmer. The bench he slept on was practically right behind him. 

     Ganji grimaced, looking behind himself to judge the distance between the two of them. He couldn’t help but take the time to analyze him again. As he’d seen, the embalmer was quite still; stiff as a board. He fell asleep in the sitting position, he must’ve been quite exhausted for that to happen. His limp head was hung downwards, surely he’ll be waking up with a cruel crick in his neck. Then Ganji’s eyes fell back on that black case he carried with him at all times. A mysterious box that always piqued Ganji’s curiosity. Considering his career as an embalmer, it was safe to assume that it was probably embalming tools. But if that’s the case, why does he need to carry it around everywhere? Maybe that question was better left unanswered, even if it’ll never leave Ganji’s mind. 

     Funnily enough, It was almost as if the sleeping man were watching him practice. Except for the fact that he was very obviously snoozing. Does he really spend that much time here?

     Ganji sighed as he peeled his eyes away, a part of him wanted to keep as quiet as possible, even if he knew that was practically impossible given what he came here for. But another part of him knew that he can’t allow himself to get rusty at this. He’d never forgive himself for it.

     He bounced his cricket ball up and down a couple times beside his foot, looking back over to see if the other man would stir in his sleep from the repeated tapping against the stone, or perhaps he’s just a heavy sleeper? The embalmer didn’t seem to be phased by the noise just yet.

     Well, it’s a chance he’s willing to take. If he wakes up, it’s more than likely he’d just leave quietly without a word. Yeah, that seems right. It’s totally fine. 

     The batter readjusted his grip on his bat, taking one final glance in Aesop’s direction before throwing the ball at the wall as hard as he could with his one hand. 

     The first hit was sloppy, it collided with the stone wall with a sad and tiny thump. But the first throw was always haphazard. The main goal the first time was to merely hit the ball with just enough force for it bounce back again. And then he’d be in a better stance the second time around. And then that’s where he can really get started and begin to lose himself in the game. 

     For a while, Ganji was slightly paranoid about the man who slept just a mere 10 feet away. Every now and then he’d look over to see if he had woken him up or if he left already. But the more he played, the more that anything outside his own little world seemed to disappear. He had entirely forgotten that the embalmer was even there once he completed delved into it.

     But the stars that watched him from above held no bias, they cared not for games or plans. They aligned how they pleased; setting a series of events up however they see fit. No moment of peace for the batter lasted forever and this time was no different. 

     Eventually Ganji’s luck ran out, the stars never seemed to align in his favor. Because all it took was one slightly mediocre swing to screw it all up. 

     The ball collided with Ganji’s bat at an awkward angle, causing the ball to hit a spot on the wall that the batter hadn’t anticipated. And before he could jump aside to fix his mistake, it ricocheted off the wall and whizzed right past Ganji’s head. And he failed to react in time to catch the ball in his hand. He reached for it in a desperate attempt to stop it from flying away, but it was long out of his reach by then.

     Ganji cursed under his breath, all he could do was stand in watch as his cricket ball flew straight towards the oh so conveniently placed frog statue in the middle of the room. To which it then bounced away to hit the poor sleeping embalmer. Unfortunately hitting the man right in the head, where it then safely fell into the rose bush behind him.

     The embalmer jolted upward, holding his head with a pained, and groggy hiss. At first, he looked up at the ceiling, he must’ve thought that whatever hit him had come from above. But when he saw nothing that could’ve fallen, he resorted to looking around the room in a sleepy daze. And that’s when his gaze landed on Ganji.

     Ganji’s eyes fell to the ground as soon as Aesop looked his way, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. 

     Aesop furrowed his brows, to him this situation was just confusing. He still has no idea what hit him. That was until he heard a small rustle in the rose bush as they shifted around the ball’s intrusion. He looked down to spot the dull-red ball peeking out from behind some leaves. Almost taunting him with the way it rolled back and forth like it was waving.

    Aesop eyes left the suspiciously teasing ball and searched through the rest of the bush for something specific. After a soft sigh he stepped behind the bench to slowly reach into the bush, plucking Ganji’s ball out. Carefully, he slipped his hands into the thorns and avoided them as if he’s done this so many times before. And when the ball is finally secured in his palms, a cracky hum sounded from his throat.

     He turned his head back towards Ganji before he started to slowly push himself back to his feet. He winced through the pain in his stiff joints as he rose. Once he was on his feet and standing before the other, there was only a long pause of silence, the void being filled by the symphony of crickets and the occasional ribbit from a frog. It was almost like a standoff with the way the two awkwardly stood there, staring at one another, waiting for one person to break the silence and either ask for the ball back, or to offer it.

     The stars had done their job of tying these two together, fate was a long and cruel process. But whatever happens next is by their own will now.

     From here, Aesop couldn’t have looked more like a ghost to Ganji. As he thought before, the light from the moon made his pale features seem almost translucent. With half of his face covered all he could see was his eyes, those dead, dull, soulless eyes. They looked at him with an emptiness Ganji wasn’t familiar with. Usually looks as piercing as these were something Ganji recognized all too often. But the embalmer’s held nothing inside of it. And perhaps that was worse than something. And his eyes seemed unfocused, like he wasn’t looking at him directly. But rather focused on his certain features and behaviors.

     Aesop was trying to read him. But he couldn’t, he hasn’t been able to from the start. With the other two participants he was able to at least infer something about them as people. What they did for work, their basic personalities, or even something as simple as their favorite color. Just anything to go off of but, when it came to the batter, it seemed like every conclusion he came to about him was contradicted by something else he’d do. The only concrete assumption that he's ever made about him was that he played cricket.

     Even now, he stood defensively. His bat propped up on his shoulder at the ready, his feet set on the ground like he wanted to stay planted and balanced. His body was turned at an angle, And his other arm crossed his torso and rested with his hand around his bicep; closing himself off from the chest. It was almost like his body language was denying that this incident had ever occurred like a defiant child who just threw a toy ball through their window. And yet his eyes were fixed on the ball in Aesop’s hand, there was a small glint of guilt in those irises. But his eyebrows were knitted as unapologetically as ever.

     Aesop finally opened his mouth to speak, but he hesitated. The words were caught and trapped in his throat just in time for Ganji to say something first.

     “Sorry.” Was all that he said.

     Aesop closed his mouth, but then opened it again to respond.

     “It’s alright.” He replied politely, the words seemed somewhat rehearsed. Like they were only manners and nothing more, just the correct response. So he added, “Here, it fell into the bushes.” While holding his hand out to return the ball.

     Ganji perked up, his body seemed more tense now. But after a few moments he relaxed. His shoulders slackened and his bat fell to his side. Though he still gripped it’s handle tightly.

     The batter took a few steps toward Aesop, the silence was back now. But the awkwardness that came with it was thicker now that the distance had been reduced. Each step he took echoed through the garden. They were slow, cautious, like he was trying to make sure Aesop’s invitation wasn’t a trap. And it wasn’t.

     Ganji held his hand out, to which Aesop responded by dropping the ball gently into the batter’s glove.

     “Thanks.” Ganji mumbled, clutching the ball closer to him before his eyes glanced up at the embalmer again. He looked different from up close, not as ghostly. It was a much better look. Ganji looked him up and down with his eyes, locking his gaze on the top of his head where the ball made impact. This was only to make sure the ball hadn’t caused any significant damage. Aesop wasn’t fond of being stared at though, and was caught off guard by the gesture. He cleared his throat and tugged at the strings of his mask, tightening it around his ear.

     Ganji couldn’t see any sort of injury on him, but he knew more than anyone that it didn’t matter if it was visible. Though, it was only now did he realize that it would be better to ask about it rather than attempting to stare through him.

     “Are you hurt?” Asked the batter, tilting his head and leaning his body into it as if to inspect Aesop for damage he might have missed the first time. Which caused the embalmer to shrink away slightly.

     “I-I’m quite alright…th-thank you for your concern.” He murmured. If it weren’t for the quietness of the night. The pair’s words would have surely been lost in the air. 

     Ganji placed his ball into his pocket, and when his hand slipped out of it, it raised to grab the back of his neck sheepishly. “So—what were you doing here so late?” He continued curiously. They were both breaking the rules now, and he wondered what his reasons for doing so was. Any sort of information like that could be used for the rest of the game. Though in the back of his mind he was wondering why he was still continuing the conversation at all.

     Aesop reached up to grab his face-mask and tug it up his nose a bit. He then looked to the floor, as if he were trying to hide himself even more. This action alone piqued Ganji’s interest once again, though this time for a more innocent reason. who wouldn’t wonder what was underneath that mask? 

     “I must’ve fallen asleep.” Mumbled Aesop, seemingly embarrassed about the fact. “I apologize, I’ve just haven’t been able to get much rest since I got here.”

     Ganji only gave a nod back, he could relate to that. He hasn’t gotten much sleep here either. Though really, when was the last time he got a proper night’s sleep?  A night without being tormented by nightmares seems foreign to him now.

     Since Ganji didn’t reply with much more than a nod, he had accidentally let the silence marinate into the air again. So Aesop sheepishly took the chance to sit back down at his bench. At an angle this time as if the conversation was completely over to him. But it was actually just so he could look at the flowers from where he was. Then, his eyes looked upward at the sky. The moon was bright and full, that explains why it was so illuminated tonight. The greenhouse had a few flame-lit lamps placed around it as well, and since the manor seemed to be rather far from any towns, the stars were free to come out and play. And the surrounding crickets played their lullaby in the star’s spotlights. Truly, it was a beautiful night. 

     “How long was I asleep for? It seems like it’s quite late now.” Aesop asked in a soft voice, mesmerized by the sky’s array.

     “It’s past midnight, if that answers it.” Ganji replied, his gaze following Aesop’s. He quickly shared the same thoughts as the other, or at least similar one. He agreed that it was wonderful, but to him the sentiment was more personal. 

     “Hmm….” Aesop hummed, “…I’m glad I got to see this though, had I’d been in my room tonight I would have missed it.”

     ‘He’s more talkative than I expected.’ Ganji thought to himself as he listened to the embalmer speak. He thought they should’ve parted ways by now, possibly without a word. But this was probably the first time he’s ever heard Aesop talk at all, maybe the reason why he’s so chatty in the first place is because he doesn’t usually talk to begin with. So many thoughts he’s never been able to share. And even though Ganji hadn’t exactly sought out a conversation, here he was, listening to every word. He was still as weary as ever, but maybe—just maybe, he can stay for a minute? Only until the man leaves, and Ganji can continue his late nightly practice.

     “It’s beautiful, right?” He finally replied, though his voice was hushed as if he wanted his words to dissipate into the nighttime air. its been a while since he’s talked to someone like this. So he was rather unsure of himself, Wondering if he should even stay here at all. He held his bat firmly, waiting for the moment that the embalmer would take his leave and he’d be alone again, safe at last.

     “And look,” Aesop pointed past a tree branch, “Just beyond that tree, there’s a star about to disappear from the sky entirely.” 

     Ganji hesitantly took his eyes off of the embalmer to look for the aforementioned dying star. It took him a moment to actually spot what he was being shown, but in the sea of bright, twinkling lights, was a dull dot flickering for dear life, struggling to continue burning. 

     “Yeah,” Ganji mumbled, “I see it.”

     “It’s actually long gone by now, but even though that star has been gone for some time, we can still see it from here. Wonderful, isn’t it?” Aesop continued, lowering his hand back to settle on his lap, but keeping his eyes fixed on the starry sky.

      And though Ganji only replied with a shrug and a quiet, “It’s interesting.” He too thought that was wonderful. The idea of being able to see a star as if it was still burning, despite it being nothing but dust now, filled him with a sense of wonder that dared not to express freely. 

     Now, the last moments of their small conversation had passed. The two were left stargazing, basking in the silence of the night. Even though Ganji tapped his fingers against the handle of his bat, wondering when Aesop was going to leave, And Aesop found it increasingly harder to ignore another person’s presence in peace. The shared moment was enjoyable even if they both would rather be alone right now. 

     But the once serene atmosphere turned into a thicker sense of awkwardness that made Ganji think that maybe he should try his luck again tomorrow. But that thought was cut off by the sight of Aesop moving in his peripheral vision.

     Ganji looked down to see Aesop suddenly move off of his bench and kneel down to inspect the yellow rose bush again. He watched as Aesop brushed his hand through the bushes of yellow roses, moving them around as if he was looking for something.

     The batter blinked in confusion, thinking he had hit him too hard and Aesop had forgotten that he already returned the ball. 

     “You already gave me the ball back.” He said rather bluntly, probably more than he had intended.

     Aesop’s eyebrows furrowed, he stuttered a bit before actually getting the words out, “No I—I know that…I was checking on something else.” He murmured back. 

     Ganji looked down at the flowers, trying to see what Aesop was talking about, but saw nothing. 

     He raises an eyebrow, turning his body towards the bushes, the movement making Aesop look up at him, “What are you looking for, then?” He asks, his previous tone seemed to have lifted just a little. 

     Aesop moves back a little to give Ganji a better look into the bush, and that’s when the batter was finally able to spot the rather large cocoon nestled within the thorny stems and vibrant petals.

     Reluctantly, Ganji squatted down next to Aesop to see it closer, “A cocoon?”

     Aesop nodded, “Yes, when I first arrived here this greenhouse was one of the first places I wandered to.” 

     Aesop removes his hand from the bush, letting the roses fall back into place. He then stands back up and makes his way back to the bench. And when he took his seat, to his surprise, Ganji followed suit and sat next to him. The makeup box serving as a barrier that separated them.

     The embalmer placed his hand over the back of his neck, messing with his ponytail. Ganji kept looking at him, waiting for Aesop to continue speaking.

     “And, while I was walking around, I noticed a caterpillar crawling across the garden. I set it in the yellow rose bush and only a few days later I came back to discover this cocoon, so I believe it belongs to that caterpillar I found.” 

     Aesop kept fidgeting with his hands as he spoke, picking at the fabric of his gloves, and then tightening them whenever they became loose. Not once did he look at Ganji while talking, but Ganji kept his eyes on him the whole time. 

     “So,” Ganji started, his bat falling off his shoulder and landing to rest by his leg, “You just want to see what kind of butterfly it turns into?”

     “Yes, that’s it really.” Aesop brushed his bangs out of his face gingerly, “That and, it’s pupated in my favorite flowers.”

     Ganji’s eyes shift between the rose bush and Aesop, it finally clicked for him. He sort of wondered why the embalmer was always so drawn to these flowers in particular whenever he saw him out here.

     “Is it—” Ganji paused, swallowing the lump in his throat that told him cease the conversation; something inside him knew he was letting himself get too comfortable.   But another part of him, one tucked far away inside his soul, wanted to indulge in this seemingly harmless exchange.

     “Is it because yellow’s your favorite color?” Asked Ganji, a question built on previous observations. 

     Aesop seemed confused by the completely normal question. He brushed one side of his bangs away from his face and furrowed his eyebrows, looking at Ganji with his eyes slightly squinted before he averted his gaze by turning his head. 

     “No, It’s much more personal than that.” He replied quietly. Ganji seemed to deflate a little, feeling as if he touched a subject he hadn’t meant to. 

     In a desperate attempt to change the subject before the conversation entered touchy territory, Ganji asked a different question, similar to the last.

     “Then, what is your favorite color?” Ganji asked again with a slight tilt to his head and a nervous smile to accompany it. It was another simple question, one specifically designed to be harmless. And yet Aesop still seemed confused by it, he looked down to his shoes like the question was somehow philosophical and he had to put some thought into it before he could answer. And so he fell into deep thought.

     looking back, his life has never been the brightest, he was constantly surrounded by dull colors that formed a dreary fog that followed him wherever he went. Now that he was actually giving it more thought, the people he’s met here at this manor are probably the brightest colors he’s seen in a long time. Aesop, in lieu of the thought, looked back up at Ganji with a gaze as soft as the rose petals. 

     Among the array of bright flowers and greenery surrounding the vast garden. Ganji was still the most vibrant ‘color’ in the whole room. Even the moonlight casted a rather flattering light on the athlete. And Aesop let out a tiny hum at the sight, and Ganji blinked in wonder. What could he be possibly thinking about that caused him to look at him in such a way? He was visibly taken aback by the gesture, as he suddenly seemed to straighten up. 

     When did he get comfortable in the first place? Had he let his guard down like this and didn’t notice? Damnit—he’d ought to be more careful. 

     It was hard not to, though. The quiet night was as peaceful as it could be. Nothing went wrong per se. As in he wasn’t caught breaking the curfew, and he had even got a fair amount of practice in before he awoke the embalmer by accident. So despite everything, it turned out better than Ganji expected. And as for bumping into Aesop? He had such a calm demeanor that naturally eased his nerves in a strange way. It almost made Ganji feel bad for being so uptight about him. Now, would he trust him? Probably not. That fog of mystery that surrounded him hadn’t quite dissipated yet, and the man hadn’t done a thing to earn his trust yet. He could still be dangerous no matter how polite he seems. A was still a threat by the end of the night.

     It seemed like both of them had been lost in thought for quite some time, their eyes locked in on each other for far longer than their usual one-second-glances. It wasn’t until Aesop realized they were staring at each other that their mutual silence was broken.

     Aesop cleared his throat as he ripped his eyes away from the other, “Ah—! Sorry, I don’t think I have one.”

     “Have a what?” Ganji answered (too) quickly as he snapped back to reality.

     Aesop raised an eyebrow, “A…a favorite color?”

      “Right. That.” Ganji’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he too looked away.

     And there it was again, that same deafening silence that made the distance between the two men seem much farther than it was. Even if they were only a makeup box away. Aesop didn’t seem too keen on responding after that. And frankly neither did Ganji, who didn’t even know what to say. 

     While they sat, Ganji’s eyes began to dart around the room in search of anything to occupy his mind with. He tapped his foot against the hard, stone floor and listened to the rhythmic sound his shoe made. And as he reached up to adjust his headband, he looked back over at Aesop to see that he had returned to stargazing. He looked up at the sky with an expression that seemed somewhat melancholic with his hands folded neatly in his lap. Ganji then followed Aesop’s gaze upwards. Immediately becoming mesmerized by the twinkling jewels that brightened the night. But what his eyes kept fixating on was the moon, it was at it’s fullest, and shined brighter than any star he saw. 

     “The moon’s beautiful tonight, yeah?” blurted Ganji, having grown a bit tired of the silence.

     “Hm?” Aesop hummed before he processed Ganji’s words, prying his face away from the ceiling. And it was only a fraction of a second before it clicked, and he looked back up again. “Oh–indeed it is.” he mumbled. 

     The silence returned, though this time they were both too busy admiring the sky to notice or care about the other’s presence. They both enjoyed quietness on a regular basis, however when spent with another person. The tension can become quite thick rather quickly. Which neither of them particularly enjoyed. But through their shared admiration for the stars above them, that so-called tension seemed to dwindle. 

     Ganji hadn’t planned to let his guard down at all when he arrived here, as a matter of fact, he vowed to watch his own back at all times the moment he stepped through the doors. And yet here he was, sat down on a garden bench with the man he deemed the most dangerous out of the three others. All because they both enjoyed the scenery. 

     And having been so distracted, completely zoned out, Ganji failed to notice a palm-sized yellow and black garden spider crawling up to him. It found a way to climb up since he had his bat pointed to the ground. It took a few good seconds for the arachnid to skitter up to where Ganji could feel it on his arm. But as soon as one of its slender appendages grazed his skin, the batter jolted. This  caught Aesop’s attention who jumped in tandem with Ganji’s reaction. 

     Ganji blurted out some expletives through gritted teeth, though none of which were in a language Aesop understood. He shot up out of his seat, his bat clattered onto the cobblestone floor. It was obvious he was trying to keep his voice down, and be as calm as he possibly could due to it being rather late into the night. 

     It took a moment for Aesop to process what was going on. He was leaned over, wide-eyed with one hand tightly gripping the bench’s arm rest. He looked frantically for the source of the sudden fright before finally taking notice of the rather large spider on Ganji’s arm. 

     His grip on the bench loosened, and he visibly relaxed with an audible sigh of relief. He rose from the seat, leaning over to give Ganji a gentle tug on his shirt sleeve. Which caused Ganji to freeze and snap his head towards the other.

     Aesop’s eyes fell to the arachnid, who climbed onto Ganji’s other hand thanks to Ganji’s fight to brush it off. “It’s a garden spider,” he said calmly, “despite their size they’re relatively docile. Though if you keep threatening it, it might bite.” 

     As he explained, the hand that was occupied with Ganji’s shirt sleeve reached down. With his palm up, he placed his fingers gently in front of the poor spider, and it immediately crawled into Aesop’s welcoming hand. He then retracted and stepped away to bring the spider over to the bush of yellow roses. 

     Ganji turned around, watching Aesop kneel down and let the garden spider crawl away before disappearing into the leaves. He was still pretty shaken up, not being able to find the words he wanted to say. So he continued to watch as Aesop took a few extra moments to gently caress a rose’s petals before standing back up. 

     “Uhm, thanks.” Ganji started while averting his gaze, he then pauses before deciding to continue speaking. “Are you sure yellow’s not your favorite color? You really like those flowers.” It was the best response he could come up with.

     Aesop turned back to the flowers, “Now that you’ve said something, I think it may be.” He replied, the tone in his voice made it seem like he was reminiscing about something Ganji could only wonder about.

     “But, it’s more significant than that.” Added Aesop, turning his head back towards the batter. But he didn’t make eye contact, his gaze remained glued to the floor.

     “Mhm.” Ganji hummed awkwardly. He knew better than to pry. But he couldn’t deny his curiosity. However, as soon as he opened his mouth to inquire further. Aesop spoke before he could.

     “How about you?”

     Ganji blinked, “What?”

     “You asked me about my favorite color, it’s only fair if I asked yours, no?” Said Aesop with a tilt to his head. 

     “Oh, right.” Ganji picked up the bat he had dropped, raising it to prop it on his shoulder again. He took a pause too, looks like they both have to think about the question. “It’s blue, like the sky.” He answered.

     Aesop hummed in acknowledgment, fidgeting with the fabric of his gloves, “That’s funny.” He mumbled.

     “Funny?” Ganji raised an eyebrow, seemingly taken aback by the implication, “What’s so funny?”

     “Ah—well…” Aesop deflated, and he nervously brushed his bangs back, “Not ‘funny’ per se, more like amusing?”

     “A…musing?” Ganji muttered, That didn’t seem to help much.

     “Well, just—ah…your eye, it was the first thing I noticed about you when we first met.” Aesop tried to elaborate, “I, myself, compared it to the color of the sky. So I just found it interesting that the same color is your favorite.” He kept his head down as he spoke, hoping that he hadn’t said anything wrong.

     Ganji’s free hand reached up to his face, his fingertips resting against his cheekbone, right underneath his right eye. His left, was a deep brown that shined into a caramel color in the sunlight. A normal color, according to himself. However the other, was a piercingly stark blue. A direct contrast to the other. Ganji had only seen mismatched eye colors like his in the faces of stray dogs he saw roaming the street, and that’s what his teammates would compare him to; a mutt. His eye was a constant reminder of how he was regarded as a pet rather than a teammate. And the memory made a familiar sense of anger begin to boil in his gut. 

     He lightly tugged on his skin, pulling his eyelid down and he almost wished for it to fall from its socket. His eyebrows knitted together as he stared at his feet.

     “Is something the matter?” Came Aesop’s voice, snapping him out of that trance.

     Ganji’s head shot up, giving Aesop a more surprised look rather than the angry one he had. 

     The sky, he hadn’t thought about that. It’s true, the color was pretty similar. The ideal was enough to comfort him just slightly, it made him realize that he had truly escaped that damned place. And he was glad that someone didn’t think of him so lowly. 

     “I think it’s rather lovely.” He heard Aesop mumble to himself, it pulled Ganji away from his thoughts once more. And caused the tips of his ears to warm up a bit.

     “Thank you.” Ganji whispered back, and Aesop suddenly straightened up as if he hadn’t expected him to hear what he’d said.

     Their old friend, silence, returned to pay a visit again. Though this time it didn’t stay long. Ganji moved back to the bench, taking his seat again. Though this time he kept his bat upright and off the ground. Aesop took this as his cue to sit back down as well. And as soon as he did so,

     “You know,” Ganji spoke up, taking a deep breath. “I like the sky because when you look up at it, it makes the world seem so much bigger than where you’re standing. It's freeing, it makes me feel less trapped.”

     Aesop listened, his hands laid flat on his lap with his head turned towards Ganji. Though his eyes were looking past him rather than straight at him. “I see, that’s a wonderful sentiment, especially when you bring the stars into account.”

     Ganji nodded in agreement, “Right, that too.” He looked up, gazing at the stars once more.  “It’s good to know that I got a part of the sky with me, no matter what.”

     Aesop watched Ganji’s face relax into a softer expression, similar to the way he looks when surrounded by the roses he’s attached to. The sentiment he has for the color yellow is strong, but does that make it his favorite? Ganji’s words echoed in his mind a few times. It made him realize that the color yellow in general brings him the same feelings as the roses do. And it was always the brightest color in his life.

     Aesop took a deep breath, and brought his hands up to adjust his gloves, “When my mother passed away…” he began, but trailed off.  The words alone caused Ganji to look over quickly, a look of shock and sorrow flashed in his eyes.

     The embalmer looked to the floor before continuing, “…I was very young, and so my memories of her are slowly fading. But I always remember that her grave was adorned with yellow roses. So when I see those flowers, or the color around in my daily life, it’s almost like she’s still there somehow. No matter how hazy the memory.  Even if I can’t remember her voice, if her face is blurred in my mind, she’s still here in the flower petals.”

     These words from the embalmer left Ganji speechless, like the man had just reached into his chest and squeezed his heart until it burst. His throat tightened a bit as his mind gave him a fear he couldn’t fathom. What if after all of this, after fighting for so long, he finally gets home and finds out his mother was gone? What if he took too long? He wouldn’t even know what to do with himself. 

     He gulps, blinking away tears he didn’t even know were welling up in his eyes. And what about the memories? The images he played on rewind in his mind each night to keep him going? If he lost that, just as the embalmer lost his, what would he have left of her? Of his home? What if her face starts to get blurry? And her voice becomes unrecognizable or mixed up with another’s? What if—

     There was a gentle hand placed on Ganji’s shoulder that snapped him out of his trance. Ganji flinched a bit, his head jerking back to meet Aesop’s concerned gaze.

     “Is something the matter?” He asked, his voice seemed more clear. Like the unnerving tone that Ganji always heard suddenly vanished. And when he looked into those cold grey eyes, Ganji could finally feel a sense of warmth behind them, buried deep within. Almost hidden away. It was like he was suddenly humanized in Ganji’s mind, and no longer the ghoul he believed him to be.

     “Huh…?” Was all that Ganji replied, then suddenly he realized that his eyes weren’t just watering. He wiped away tears that threatened to fall with his glove. “Ah, uh…”

     “Here.” Aesop whispered, reaching into his breast pocket and unfolding the handkerchief he kept. He dabs away a few droplets from the other man’s cheek before dropping the cloth into Ganji’s palm. His fingers remained in Ganji’s hand for a pause before he retracted his hand.

     “The sky must be really important to you…” he mumbled mainly to himself as he leaned back.

     Ganji clutched the handkerchief in his hand as he processed Aesop’s quiet words. He gave him a look akin to both gratitude and understanding before actually using the cloth to dry his eyes. “Thanks, sorry about that.”

     “No no, it’s alright.” Replied Aesop, letting out a hefty yawn. Ganji returned it shortly after.

     “It’s late, you should head back to your room before you’re caught.” Ganji said, looking down at the handkerchief in his hand. It was hypocritical to say that, but he’d rather not show any more vulnerability than he already has. He needs to be out of sight.

     Aesop nodded in agreement, despite just waking up. But he’d much rather be in his own bed. Besides, this was enough social interaction for one night. He could feel the anxious weight in his chest get heavier by the second. And as much as he wanted to stay and comfort the man, he could tell he’d rather be alone. And Aesop was more than happy to grant such a silent request. 

     The embalmer began to rise from his seat, his knees popping as he let out a small sigh. “Then I’ll be off, I do appreciate the time we’ve spent together.” 

     Ganji looked up, watching Aesop grab his case and bring it to his side; then he brushed off invisible dirt from his shoulder. The batter nodded, “Me too.” He whispered.

     Aesop gave one final nod in Ganji’s direction before he turned to leave. He reached the door but before he turned the knob he suddenly turned back.

     “Have a good night—er…uh.” He cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, have we not probably been introduced?” 

     Ganji blinked in confusion, his mind had to take a second to unscramble the words before he perked up. “Oh! Ack…no, I don’t think so.” He laughed nervously, he can’t believe he’d spent all this time talking to him, being so weary of him and he never even knew his name.

     “It’s Ganji, Ganji Gupta.” He said with a crooked, nervous smile.

     Aesop hummed in acknowledgment, “Aesop Carl.” Was all he replied with as he pulled the door open.

     Ganji watched the other man take one step inside, but once again made him stop in his tracks. He looked down at the cloth, and then jumped up from the bench.

     “Wait! This is yours!” He called out, holding out the handkerchief towards the embalmer. Aesop whipped his head around, looking between Ganji and the cloth a few times before his gaze settled on Ganji himself for longer than he possibly should’ve. People are hard to read, but an expression like that was one he was rather familiar with.

     “No, keep it. I have extras.” He told him as he entered the manor, “Goodnight Ganji.” Was the last thing he said before the door closed.

     And so Ganji was left alone with only the crickets and frogs to keep him company for the rest of the night. He looked down again, peering into the tear stains on Aesop’s handkerchief as he collapsed back onto the bench.

     Without the pressure of another person’s eyes on him, his eyes took that as their cue to start the waterworks. And Ganji’s jaw tightened as he used the cloth to plug up his tear ducts.

*~~~~~*

     Aesop’s body felt stiff, like all his joints had rusted overnight. He hadn’t been resting well since arriving at the manor, but this was a particularly bad night. First waking up on a hard bench and then hardly being able to fall asleep in his own bed. It was awful. He felt awful. But he couldn’t help but feel like it was worth it. Aesop still looked back fondly on last night. The sight of the batter’s face as he gazed at the stars flashed in his mind as he dragged himself out of bed. He heard his voice and while he brushed his hair and put it up into his usual ponytail. And he silently wished to see him again as he made his way back to the greenhouse.

     ‘That’s strange.’ He thought, because even he knew this was unlike himself. Never once has he let another individual remain in his thoughts for more than necessary. Much less have the desire to run into them again. Usually he’d take the time to either wait for everyone to clear out, or take the long way round. And why has he decided that the batter of all people would be the one to occupy his mind—it was a distraction from his task at hand. He must remember what he came here for. He can’t deny his own whims, but he can ignore them.

     Ganji Gupta…how curious. Talking with him raised more questions than answers. He always thought that he was hard to read, and last night was no different. Though instead of feeling frustrated that he couldn’t form a firm conclusion about the man, it left him wanting more. The memories of their late-night conversation made way for a burning curiosity, one that would only delay his mission if he let himself give into his wonders. So he tried to shake the man from his mind, hoping to start focusing on his work again. 

     Aesop took in a deep breath of fresh air, stepping back into the warmth of the greenhouse. He felt safe amongst the flowers. Being so far from home was rather intimidating. But at least the bush of yellow roses gave him a sense of comforting familiarity. As Aesop leaned down and searched through the petals for the butterfly’s cocoon, he took in the floral aroma with a deep huff. He treaded carefully with his fingers, not wanting to accidentally  knock down the fragile chrysalis or prick himself with a thorn. When he finally found it, he pointed it upwards gently with the pads of his fingertips. It’s developed quicker than expected. Aesop could already see the patterns of the wings through the translucent material. In fact, it seemed like the newly formed butterfly had two sets of different-colored wings–or rather, four. 

     Four? Four wings? That can’t be right. How could a butterfly have four wings? Aesop squinted and brought himself closer to the chrysalis, only to find that the forming butterfly within didn’t have four wings, but rather it was two separate butterflies forming in the same cocoon. But how could–no, where did the other caterpillar come from? 

     Two caterpillars from opposite sides of the garden, somehow meeting in the same flower bush, the same rose for that matter. And then pupating so close to one another that their cocoons fuse together and form alongside one another. And Aesop hardly even noticed until the chrysalis cleared. 

     How fascinating. Aesop eyes remained fixated on the beautiful sight, a faint smile hidden beneath the mask. He let the cocoon gently fall back into place. It swung back and forth a bit, and Aesop held his breath until it settled. He released the breath he held captive and leaned back. Looking upon the evidence of nature’s–of life’s beauty, presented before him. With the memories of last night here to accompany his mind; He felt truly alive here in this fleeting moment. A simple pleasure really, but he was content, at peace. He could die now and be happy, but there would be no one to take care of his corpse. So he’ll just have to enjoy the moment until it passes.

     Creak…sounded the door. Usually the door would remain open a crack for just a moment before closing. And when Aesop looked back, there would be no one there. But he didn’t hear that familiar click of the deadbolt. So he turned around again, his eyes meeting Ganji’s as he stepped into the sunlight. 

     “Oh,” Aesop blinked, “Hello again, Ganji. Did you sleep well?” He stumbled over his words a bit, though hid it well. There was a foreign feeling that began to swell up in his chest, it felt like something akin to joy. It made him feel warmer than the garden was already making him. He could only compare it to an inviting hearth during a freezing blizzard. A vision so cozy, and yet the peculiar emotion still scared him in some way. It was yet another distraction, he was getting attached. This poses a threat to his mission, but he couldn’t bring himself to steer away from what he was getting into. If curiosity killed the cat Aesop's starting to become one clueless kitten.

     Aesop sighed a bit, fidgeting with the ends of his gloves and pulling them tighter down his wrists. As Ganji greeted him back (though Aesop was too lost in his thoughts to process what he had said entirely,) he approached to stand at Aesop’s side. And that’s where Aesop decided that he may dip his toes in the water of whatever he was feeling, but that's as far as he’ll go. For the deep end will drown him and all that he is. He can’t let this get in the way, what would his father think? If he could see him now, and if he knew what he was thinking, Aesop knew he’d surely be disappointed. 

     With a couple harsh blinks Aesop brought himself back to reality. He saw Ganji looking down at the flower bush. Aesop noticed how wonderful the sunlight looked on him. It brightened his skin, accentuated his scars that Aesop once again found himself curious about, and made his eyes stick out better than they did at night. Especially the one with that gorgeous blue.

     He was a gorgeous man, and especially so from up close. If he were a cadaver on his embalming table he’d enjoy every second he spent preserving him. But alas, there was an easily missable ember of life behind his eyes that Aesop refused to extinguish. It wasn’t his time, he knew that. But gosh can a man dream. 

     Aesop managed to pry his eyes away from Ganji to follow his gaze down to the flowers, landing on the chrysalis. 

     “The outside of the cocoon is clearing up, they’re sure to emerge soon.” He said, breaking the silence Aesop accidentally caused.

     Ganji’s eyebrows knitted together, and his eyes squinted slightly. “Does the butterfly have…” he leaned down a bit, “…two different wings?”

     Aesop tapped his fingertips together in silent excitement, “Ah! Well—That’s what I thought as well, at first. But upon closer inspection…” 

     He started to slowly descend into a squat, gesturing for Ganji to follow suit. And when they were both on the same level, Aesop once again held up the fragile chrysalis with gentle fingers. 

     “I wondered why the cocoon was rather large, considering they’re made from the caterpillar’s exoskeleton. But now that it's cleared up, if you look closely you’ll notice that there’s actually two butterflies forming alongside each other.” Aesop explained with a small nervous quiver in his voice. 

     Ganji’s eyes gained a faint twinkle as soon as he noticed it. He may have been more amazed than Aesop was, “I had no idea that could happen.” He said in a quiet tone, it was obvious that he made an effort to keep his voice down. 

     “It shouldn’t be possible,” Aesop added. “Perhaps the cocoons formed close enough to each other to fuse as one, but that’s the only explanation I can think of.”

     “Mhm. Beats me, but I like your answer so I’ll go with it.” Ganji agreed, his tone a bit playful. He pushed himself back up to his feet and then suddenly piped up again as he seemed to realize something. “Hey, you’re up pretty early, did you even go back to sleep?” he asked, keeping his gaze on the chrysalis and the flowers. 

     “I could ask you the same thing.” replied Aesop. He also attempted to stand back up, though with obvious strain. So when Ganji noticed this, he proceeded to lean down and grab Aesop’s arm to help him to his feet. And while the gesture was helpful, it caused the embalmer to stiffen up from the unfamiliar and sudden touch, and almost forcefully rip himself out of the batter’s grasp. Ganji had thankfully let go beforehand, but already felt how Aesop was going to yank away before he relinquished his grip. 

     Aesop faltered backwards a bit, and Ganji’s jaw clenched as he looked away rather guiltily; he had taken the abrupt gesture to heart already. “Sorry–I didn’t mean to startle you.’’ He apologized quietly, taking a step back and expanding the distance between the two. 

     Aesop waved him off, maybe in a slightly more frantic manner than he’d intended. “It’s quite alright. I was only startled, just as you said.” he explained. Then he took a breath and messed with the cuffs of his sleeves idly.

     Ganji only responded with a quiet hum, so Aesop continued after an extended and awkward pause. Where that familiar sense of unease from the night before had begun to swirl around them like the clouds that overcast and hid the sun.

     “As I was saying, You must’ve stayed out here long after I left. So realistically I should’ve been the one to ask that question.” Said Aesop, continuing to fidget with his hands. “It was late, was it not?”

     Ganji’s eyes flicked upward to meet Aesop’s, the intensity of the look caused Aesop to cast his gaze downward to focus on the jewelry around the batter’s neck. 

      “Don’t worry about it.” He said bluntly, “I got enough sleep.”

     “I see.” Aesop mumbled, shrinking in on himself slightly. He wondered if he said something to warrant that sort of tone, as he only inquired about his wellbeing. And as far as he knew, that wasn’t necessarily rude. So why did he look at him like he asked something far more personal? The switch up was so sudden Aesop almost felt his neck ache from the whiplash.

     “Then,” He began again, though much more nervously. “May I ask what brings you here today?”

     Ganji’s eyes squinted a bit, perhaps earlier he would’ve been more willing to answer. But now his walls were back up after realizing that he may have gotten too comfortable. “Why do you want to know?”

     Aesop straightened his posture and swallowed harshly, feeling accused of something he knew nothing of. The more he spoke with him the more confused he felt.

He placed his gloved fingers around the back of his neck. And his mind brimmed with uncertainty, Was this not a part of a regular conversation? What’s making the other so uptight? Was it something he said before? His eyebrows furrowed, and he suddenly realized that it must’ve been his reaction to being helped off the ground earlier. Yes, that must be it.

     Aesop deflated a bit, not in a relaxed way but rather a saddened one. He knew he let the ‘undesirable’ parts of his personality slip through the cracks of the mask he used to hide that. And it ruined something he had actually begun to enjoy. No matter, at least it wouldn’t be a distraction to his mission anymore. 

     “I apologize, Mr. Gupta.” Aesop began with a solemn tone in his voice, bringing a hand up to his chest. A gesture he’d seen many noblemen exhibit as a form of politeness and had since picked up. “But I have to go.” 

     The corners of Ganji’s lips turned down. Even if he knew pushing him away was for his own good, it didn’t make it hurt any less. Because he too, was beginning to enjoy their budding friendship. But he also knew better than to let his guard down.

     Ganji watched Aesop as he began to step towards the exit. With eyes that didn’t allow the other to see the wounds behind them. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and huffed in shame while the embalmer’s back was turned. That’s when a thought suddenly crossed his mind. In a game like this, wouldn’t an alliance be a useful asset to winning? As a player of a team-based sport, wouldn’t he have thought of this sooner? Though—maybe the embalmer wasn’t the best choice in terms of teammates. He was more dangerous than he was helpful. Which he supposed could be used to his advantage, but that wasn’t a gamble he was willing to bet on. 

     Arg—there was no time to think this through. Even though Ganji’s thoughts were quick, Aesop was leaving quicker. And no matter what he thought of him, one thing was for certain. He surely wouldn’t want him as an enemy.

     “Wait.” Ganji blurted, swiftly bending down and pulling one of the yellow roses from its roots. His thick sports glove protected his hands from the thorns as he meticulously peeled each one off while crossing the room. 

     Aesop’s hand had just curled around the doorknob as Ganji called him to a halt. He swiftly turned his head back and his heart rate picked up for a reason he couldn’t quite place.

     When the batter met him at the door, he held up the rose to him like he was raising a glass for a toast. “Friendship.” He said, “That’s what these roses symbolize, yeah?”

     Aesop’s eyes met Ganji’s for just a moment before they fell onto the petals. In that split second he could see a small ember of determination in his eyes. He wasn’t sure what sparked it, but it was a flame Aesop didn’t wish to extinguish. 

     “Indeed they do.” The embalmer replied while he gently took the rose into his own grasp. And as Ganji let it go, it officialized their newfound friendship. 

     Ganji leaned back, placing both hands on his hips as he let out a sigh, “Good. Then we’re friends now.” He said matter-of-factly. Perhaps he was trying to cast the words to the wind to make them real.

     Aesop cleared his throat, “I suppose so.” He nodded in agreement. And in that moment Aesop decided that Ganji would play no part in his mission here. Acting as neither a target nor an obstacle, or so he hoped for the latter.

     The embalmer held the rose close to his chest as he pushed the door open, “I’ve quite enjoyed each of our encounters with one another, I must say.” He commented while he stepped inside. 

     Ganji raises his eyebrows, completely ruining the harsh expression he was trying to convey, “R-really?” He asked as if it was some crazy confession.

     Aesop’s eyes squinted in a way that indicated a smile beneath the mask, “Yes, it’s important to have moments like those in life. So I do hope the feeling’s mutual.”

     Ganji blinked a few times. The feeling was mutual, but only recently so. And that fact was a little intimidating to him. The words that came from the embalmer—though peculiar, were still very kind. And a kindness like that was hard to come by for the batter these days, so he wasn’t even sure how to react to such a sentiment. 

     Aesop sensed Ganji’s ‘confusion’ and looked back down at the flower, “What I’m trying to say is, thank you.” 

     “Uh—yeah, I’ll see you around, then.” Ganji mumbled as the door closed. Leaving the batter with nothing but his racing thoughts and the flowers that surrounded him. 

     He turned around, looking over the entire greenhouse from the door. Though his gaze lingered on the yellow rose bushes for far longer than anything else. No matter what, those flowers only brought the image of that man to his mind. He clenched his fists, as if the pressure in his palms would be enough to cast Aesop out of his mind. But of course, to no avail. 

     This was either an alliance that would greatly benefit him, or would destroy everything he’d been working towards. And that sort of unpredictability almost had him trembling at the thought. He can’t do all of this for nothing, even if it meant eventually betraying the person he decided to put the smallest fraction of trust into. And he’d be damned if he ended up making the wrong decision in befriending him. 

     He really didn’t want to betray Aesop in the end, he silently prayed to any god that would listen to let him keep this one good thing.

     Oh goodness—he can’t stop thinking about him. Ganji pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. Collapsing to sit on the small set of stairs beneath him. 

     The embalmer was in the same boat, every once in a while he’d look down at the flower with fondness while he made his way back to his room. And once he got there, he set his case down by his feet and pressed his back against the door. He gazed upon the yellow petals, softly caressing them with his fingertips.

     The color was no longer just a reminder of his grief. Sure—his mother’s memory was still hidden within the petals. But he found himself reminiscing more on his time spent with the batter than his mother’s funeral. This was saddening to him of course, this meant he was slowly losing another piece of his mother. Though—does one sentiment have to overpower the other? Can they not coexist?

     In a way, the yellow hue of the flowers seemed more vibrant and lively when he thought about Ganji. He only noticed how the petals were slightly wilted when he began to think of his mother. How interesting. 

     Aesop placed the rose on his desk, right beside the journal he was provided. Ah, he should write about this in his diary as well.

     Aesop took a seat and flipped the book open to an empty page. He reached over to grab the pen he left sitting in the ink jar last night. When writing about anything else, he usually would have to sit there for a moment to gather his thoughts. But right now the words flowed effortlessly, the batter was quite the inspiration. 

     Ganji was a memory Aesop will surely cherish for the rest of his days.

*~~~~~*

     “And how do I know you’re not setting me up? Using me to get to the finish line only to betray me and take it all for yourself?.” Ganji accused the blonde woman. The batter was already completely on edge. Because being invited to meet in a secluded room tucked away in the corner of the manor, not to mention at the dead of night, wasn’t really the safest offer to accept. He had every one of his defenses at the ready, a cold and harsh expression, and a dull tone of voice that barely hid the softness of his voice. But it was still enough to make sure the woman knew to be weary, and that his teeth were bared. 

     Anne’s calm expression shifted as the man spat those words at her. She raised her hand and closed a fist near her chest. Her eyes narrowed and her thick eyebrows furrowed. Then she let out a sigh and continued to try and persuade the other.

     “I would do no such thing.” She said firmly, more like she was making a promise. “If I did, I’d be betraying not just you, but myself as well.”

     Ganji looked away from her and crossed his arms, looking idly out the window that allowed a bit of moonlight into the room. There was a small lantern that sat on the table that illuminated the room quite well, but Ganji couldn’t bear to look at it. 

     “It doesn’t matter what your intentions are, an alliance is pointless.” Ganji countered, “This game is a ‘winner takes all’ sort of deal, isn’t it? Even if we worked together we’d be pit against each other in the end.”

     Anne shook her head and continued to plead, “But if we worked together maybe we wouldn’t have to! We can split the rewards, take what we need and part ways. We’ll have a better chance of winning if we work together.”

     “Can’t you see that you’re being naive? It just won’t work like that.” Ganji snapped, “What about the others? What if they’re conspiring against us?

     Anne takes a step forward, “And why won’t it work? How would you know if we don’t try? And if they are, we’d have a better chance of besting them both if we were teamed up.” 

     Slowly, that hand Anne held close to her extended forward towards the batter. Her palm remained open and faced towards him, “Please, I promise I only want to help.”

     Ganji’s eyes stayed fixed on Anne’s hand for a moment. The gentle gesture still striking unease into him. He clenched his jaw and looked up at her. Her eyes held warmth, they were inviting even. It truly looked like she meant no harm. But he’s already let himself be vulnerable too many times here in the manor. It’s still too risky, no matter how sweet she looked. 

     Ganji stepped away from her, “I can’t.” he said through gritted teeth.

     Anne lowered her arm, “And why not? If I may ask.”

     The batter shook his head, “You wouldn’t get it.” 

     Anne’s lips pressed together, the corners turning down just slightly before she spoke again, “You’re right, maybe I won’t. But maybe if you let me try–”

     “No.” Ganji interrupted, looking at Anne with an expression that seemed to be both hurt and pleading. “It won’t be worth it. Give it up, please.”

     Anne met his gaze with something comforting, a look she’d give a teary eyed child she wanted to console, “But for the sake of winning this game–”

     “I said give it up already!” Ganji shouted, much louder than he wanted to be. But it was too late to bite back his tone. 

     Anne flinched and stumbled backwards, her body reacting thanks to past experiences. She tripped over herself and caught herself on the desk sloppily. Knocking the lantern down in the act. 

     The two didn’t dare break the silence. The room went dim for the next passing moments, which shrouded them both in blankets of darkness they used to hide their shame and fear. With their mind’s racing, they had failed to notice the lantern rolling away and heading towards the curtains and its very flammable fabric. 

     Ganji swallowed harshly, his eyes looking up to find Anne’s form in the faint light. But when he tried to utter an apology, he was interrupted by a sudden fwoosh. And then the room was illuminated in an instant by the roaring flames. And now Ganji could clearly see the shock on the woman’s face. 

     They both froze, but the heat of the fire was thankfully enough to melt the ice in their veins. Allowing adrenaline to flow freely in their blood. Anne was the first to make a move, swiftly snatching her glider before the embers could strike it. She scrambled to the window with the glider in tow, grabbing the bottom of the lift. She tried her best to be weary of the surrounding flames. But–just her luck, it won’t budge.

     Anne slightly panicked, frantically trying to open the jammed window and even dropping her glider to use both her hands to pry it open. When Ganji saw her struggling, that’s when he finally moved. He rushed to her side, tried to help her open the window as well. They managed to get it to open a sliver, just enough to let some of the smoke out. Ganji cursed under his breath in his native tongue before letting go. Then he gently pushed Anne back.

     “Stay back.” he told her, taking a few steps behind as well. He coughed smoke out of his lungs as he reeled back his elbow. Then he drove it into the glass pane with all his body weight behind the blow. He winced, making a strained noise as he felt the shock of the hit travel up his arm. But it got the job done, the glass shattered. Some shards cut Ganji’s skin, but he simply brushed the pieces away and decided to deal with the injury later. He used his other arm to punch out the wood framing to create the perfect opening to escape from. Then he looked down, they were on the second floor, so he figured the drop would be painful. But it was better than staying where they were. He looked to Anne, stepping aside to let her escape first.

     Anne nodded and climbed up into the opening, wincing and broken glass stabbed her palms. She readied her glider, but when Ganji moved to join her, she stopped him.

     “Wait,” she said, “Go find the others, warn them before the fire spreads too far!” 

     Ganji’s heart both sank and started beating faster, “You…” he coughed, interrupting his next words. But he looked at Anne with fear in his eyes, like he was silently begging her to let him through. 

     “Please.” she begged, “The front entrance should still be safe for now, we’ll meet there.” 

     Ganji opened his mouth to protests but the words got caught in his throat. He trembled, he didn’t want to be in this situation longer than necessary. He wanted to run away from this building as fast as he could without so much as a second glance. But she was right, there was still time for the other two to escape without a scratch. And what about Aesop? If he left him behind and he didn’t make it out, he’d probably never forgive himself. 

     So, reluctantly, he nodded. “Okay, meet you there.” He sighed.

     Anne nodded back, and with that they parted ways. Anne jumped out the window and Ganji bolted for the door. With Ganji already fleeing from the room, he didn’t see the tragedy that would strike moments after

     Seconds after Anne escaped the building, carried by the wind. She quickly felt something searing hot on her knuckles. She looked up just in time to watch her glider’s fabric wings tear from the fire that somehow spread to her glider without her knowing. Possibly while she was readying her escape. 

     She gasped just as she fell from the sky, she had no time to react. She was falling too fast and before she knew it, her right leg hit the ground first and took the majority of the fall’s damage. She heard a gut wrenching, disgustingly loud snap as her bones split and broke before the rest of her body even collided with the ground. She screamed as the pain set in, but it was broken and came out in multiple strained cries as shock wrecked havoc on her nerves. Thanks to the adrenaline she already had, she managed to gather some strength to try and stand. But quickly found that effort to be futile as the pain travelling throughout her body sent her back down to the dirt. So her only choice was to crawl her way to the manor’s front entrance to find help. 

     Unfortunately, with Ganji’s mind flooded with so many memories that clouded his judgement, he didn’t even process that what he heard was screaming. He rushed across the foyer to guest rooms, bursting through and stumbling into the hall. His vision immediately tunneled in on the door at the very end of the corridor. The one belonging to the embalmer. He swiftly sped towards it, ignoring that his blood dripped a trail in his wake. Though thankfully his wounds were already scabbing over, and won’t be an issue soon enough. 

     With a situation as dire as this one, he didn’t bother to knock on the door. He just grabbed the doorknob and forcefully swung the door open. Which startled the embalmer with how sudden the action was, he certainly wasn’t expecting someone to barge in at this hour. He jolted to an upright position, the blanket falling off of him as he looked at Ganji with dazed eyes.

     Ganji wasted no time, “We need to leave, there’s a fire.” He stated, his voice was clear, but there was still a very obvious quiver to it. 

     Aesop dragged himself out of bed quickly, though he faltered as he tripped over his comforter, “P-pardon?” He croaked groggily. Even if he didn’t fully process what Ganji said mentally, his body definitely did. Still in a black silk pajama set, he slipped on his shoes and brushed his hair to his left shoulder. He moved rather slowly, having yet to shake the rust out of his stiff joints. The pace only served to make the batter more restless, he couldn’t understand how Aesop could be so calm in this situation. Every second he stood there waiting it felt like he could hear a clock ticking to sudden doom. 

     But finally, Aesop grabbed his makeup box, his most precious possession it seemed, and joined Ganji by his side. He believed that what Ganji told him was true, the panic in his face was enough to tell him something was terribly wrong. But he was still confused, there were signs of danger, nor could he smell any smoke. Aesop was just about to question him about it before he noticed the blood running down Ganji's arm as he turned to leave. He gasped softly, briefly stopping in his tracks.

     “You’re bleeding.” discerned Aesop as he quickly began catching up.

     Ganji moved quickly, making his way to the postman’s door with large, antsy strides, “I know, I punched out a window so the toy maker could escape.” He said dismissively as his hand wrapped around the doorknob. He pushed it open, though with less force as he did with Aesop’s. 

     He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but was quickly cut off by the realization that the postman was nowhere to be found here. Ganji’s eyes widened and darted around the room, it was completely dark and the bed was empty and remained neatly made. Looks like the man left a while ago.

     “I heard him leave hours ago–er–or I heard his dog, rather.” Aesop recalled as Ganji turned back to face him. “I thought he'd be back by now.”

     Ganji’s eyebrow twitched, he started pacing back and forth as he rummaged through his muddled mind for a solution. His breath picked up in pace knowing this was going to be harder than he originally thought.

     “Get out of here, I’ll look for him.” He muttered, never once stopping his movements.

     Aesop’s eyebrows knitted together, leaving someone inside an actively burning building didn’t seem like the correct thing to do, “Won’t it be safer to look together?”

     Ganji shook his head, pleading with Aesop with his desperate eyes. “The fire started on the other side. If I'm quick enough, I can get us both out in time.”

     “And what if you aren’t fast enough?” Argued Aesop, who also didn’t want to let up. Because unbeknownst to Ganji, the postman was still his target. And he wasn’t keen on letting the fire take him if he could offer a far less painful demise. “This manor is large, you could get trapped before you even get close. Perhaps we should split up to find him.”

     Ganji knew they were wasting time talking, every second spent arguing was another inch burnt off the metaphorical fuse. “Then we could both get trapped!” he raised his voice, firmly grasping Aesop’s hand and dragging him down the hall towards the door. 

     “It’ll be easier if it’s just me looking. So please, just get out of h–’’ Ganji pulled the door farther inward, he didn’t bother to close it the first time he came in. But just as he went to leave, there was a thundering sound of cracking wood as the room the fire started in collapsed. The whole manor shook and the two men jolted from the sudden crash. Tripping over themselves and catching their balance on the doorframe. They breathed heavily in unison, it was only then did the smell of smoke finally hit Aesop’s nostrils. He coughed it out immediately, and Ganji forced himself to catch his breath. He made a break for the front entrance, grabbing Aesop’s wrist to keep him in tow. He stopped right in front of the door before turning back to the embalmer. 

     “We’re running out of time.” He exhorted, placing a hand on Aesop’s shoulder and shaking him slightly like he was trying to force  the words into him. “I’ll find him, I promise. Just get out of here before it gets worse.”  

     Aesop’s mouth fell open like he meant to speak. He wanted to protest, but he wasn’t the one with the burn scars that proved he was capable. His hands were tied, and his only choice was to trust Ganji’s judgement. So he gulped down whatever he meant to say and merely nodded, “Alright, but if the situation becomes too dire, save yourself.”

     Ganji stood there, staring into Aesop’s eyes, whose gaze had already turned away. His words rang in his mind, and so did his promise. Two statements that severely contradicted each other. The batter took a deep, shaky breath before nodding. 

     “Right.” was all he said before leaving. Turning around and racing towards the muse corridor. 

     Aesop waited until Ganji was out of his sight before he left too. He thought about going against his word and looking for the postman anyway. But he was never one to lie. So put his faith in the batter and exited the building.

     The cold wind blew through him as soon as he stepped foot into the night. Aesop immediately closed the door behind him in fear that the wind could fan the flames as they spread. He took small steps away from the manor, unsure of what to do next and simply letting whatever’s meant to happen, happen. For crying out loud, he was still in sleepwear after all. 

     As he got farther away, the reality of the situation finally started to set in. His heart beat so hard it threatened to crack his ribs. His breath was ragged and fearful, and he could see it all come out in the frigid air. He couldn’t tell if he was shaking from fear or from the cold. 

     As the wind whistled into his ears, there was a faint noise that broke him out of his panic. His head jerked in the direction of the soft cries. He searched through the darkness until he caught sight of Anne’s red nightgown amidst the shadows. She was crawling, seemingly struggling to do even that. She was obviously injured, and from the sounds of her arduous screaming it was causing her great suffering. So depending on the severity of the situation, Aesop may have to offer his services. 

     Panic melted from his body as he rushed down the cobblestone steps, being sure to keep an air of professionalism to his movements. Showing his uncertainty wasn’t ideal in this situation, it could potentially worsen his client’s situation.

     Anne’s eyes widened as she looked up to see Aesop approaching. She suddenly attempted to pull herself towards her quicker, even trying to push herself to an upright position. But Aesop knelt down beside her and ushered her back down. 

     “Don’t strain.” he said softly, “What happened?”

     Through strident breaths she managed to choke out an explanation, “I fell–my glider it…”

     Her hands curled into the ground, her fingers digging in the dirt as she bit back a scream. “M-my leg! I think…” she grunted, “...I broke it.” 

     Aesop nodded gently as he moved down, his hand hovering over the bottom of her dress. He’s heard plenty of people try to speak through his agony, his best bet is to stay calm to keep her from freaking out. “Alright, let me take a look.” 

     He waited for Anne to acknowledge his words before he grabbed the fabric. It was wet, the red color of the nightgown did quite a bit to hide the blood that seeped through. Aesop had mistaken it for dew and grimaced when he saw the red stains appear on his hands. Nevertheless he continued to lift the gown up just enough to assess the injury. Despite the plenty of severe injuries he’d seen during his career, the sight was still enough to make him recoil. The first thing he saw was the fractured tibia protruding from her skin. That’s where most of the blood had accumulated. Aesop quickly pulled himself back together as he lowered the dress to cover it once more. 

     Anne took quick notice of Aesop’s reaction and quaked, “Wh-what? Oh my…it’s bad isn’t it?” she wept.  

     Aesop perked up as he took her hand, holding it in such a way that hid the blood on his palms, “Shhh, it’s going to be alright, miss. Just let me help you.”

     She gulped, but nodded and placed her trust in him. Being too helpless to do anything else, after all. 

     The embalmer pulled away, dragging his makeup case closer to him as Anne fell limp. This injury required immediate medical attention, which was something Aesop was unable to offer. Besides that, he didn’t even know where the nearest hospital was from the manor. If left for too long, walking will become a chore when healed. She’d have to live with the pain for the rest of her life. So perhaps it was best to end her suffering here.

     As soon as he got his case open he grabbed a cloth first. He used it to wipe the blood off his hands before slipping on a spare pair of gloves he kept inside. After which, he began setting up the procedure. Only four items were needed, the aforementioned cloth, a bottle of ethylene oxide, a vial of bromide hydrate and an empty syringe. 

     Realistically, there would be no need to sterilize a needle that’ll be used to end one’s life. However, Aesop did so out of respect for his clients. And so the same would go for Anne Lester.

     Aesop dragged the clean side of the cloth up the needle after dousing it with the cleaning agent, checking the measurements and eyeing the dose he needed to aim for as he did so. Once satisfied with the cleanliness, he grabbed the vial of bromide hydrate and pierced the needle through the top. 

     Everything he did, he did with such grace and certainty that Anne couldn’t help but choose to trust what he was doing. But at the end of the night, he was no doctor. So when he pulled the syringe out of the strange vial, she tried to pipe up and question him. But no words would come out of her throat. The adrenaline was draining from her body, and her consciousness was fading in and out to avoid feeling the pain that was slowly setting in. 

     Aesop brought the needle up to Anne’s neck, brushing her braid away to get to the injection site. When Anne felt the cold needle prick her neck, her hand grabbed onto Aesop’s wrist, but she was far too weak to resist. She hissed softly through her teeth as she felt the syringe peirce her vein. 

     “It’s alright, the pain should be fading soon.” he whispered as the final drops of the chemical flowed into her blood. After removing the needle from her flesh, her hand fell from his wrist weakly. 

     Those comforting words rang in her mind as whatever grip she had on reality faded away. Her breathing slowed as the serum ran its course throughout her body, slowly shutting her organs down in a painless and unnoticeable process. The pain was gone now, she didn’t even remember that it happened. And her body was suddenly warm, like the sun had somehow risen before it was time. 

     Aesop dragged her limp body onto his lap, not wanting her to spend her final moments on the wet grass and dirt. He watched the life fade from her body, only serving as silent company as she completed her journey to the afterlife. Two of his gloved fingers pressed gently against her jugular, feeling her pulse slowly fade to nothing under his fingertips. And when she took her final breath, Aesop watched the clouds of it dissipate into the midnight air. 

     He sat there for a moment, as still as a statue. The corpse laid just as stiff in his lap. Aesop let his eyes fall closed, giving the woman a deserved moment of silence. Because she wouldn’t have the luxury of a regular funeral. A shame, really. She seemed like such a kind and gentle woman, she would’ve surely been surrounded by family and friends, right?

     No matter, it was time for them to part now. He didn’t have the means to give her a proper burial at this moment. So putting her body in the fire as a sort of cremation will have to do. 

     The embalmer turned around, he could feel the fire’s warmth from where he sat. The flames had spread horrifyingly fast, turning the manor into a mock crematorium. If Ganji and Victor were still trapped inside, their chances of survival were thinning every second. Aesop sighed, it wasn’t ideal; far from it. But if Victor lost his life in the inferno then that would mean his mission is technically complete. The body would even be taken care of by the hearth. It was slightly disappointing, he’d love to be there by his side as he took his final breath; but so be it. The job was done, that was all that matters. Though, what worried him the most was the batter. He had already deduced that Ganji’s life was far from over. If he died here, it’d be a tragedy. But in the end, it was another way of life. If his life is to be cut short then who was he to intervene? Funny, he was mourning a man he wasn’t even sure was dead. Or perhaps, was he hoping for his survival?

     Well, there was a window not far from him that had shattered from the heat, he could deposit the woman’s body in there.

     He wrapped her body in his arms, lifting her and himself up off the ground. He turned and walked slowly towards the flames. As he got closer the fire burned hot against his cheeks, only being soothed by the cold winds blowing around him.

     He tried setting her body down into the bed of flames as gently as he could without burning herself. But at one point ended up having to drop her body abruptly to avoid injury. 

     He watched her body fall, a storm of embers flying around as she landed. Aesop stumbled backwards to avoid being caught in the fiery rain. But why was he avoiding being burned? He wondered, if everyone were to lose their life tonight what gives him the right to keep his? His mission was complete, he answered his calling and completed his task to the best of his ability. His mind wandered back to the memory of his mentor, he had come here before him with the same goal in mind. And though Aesop never knew if he had completed his own mission or not, he did know that to walk away from this manor unscathed would be hypocritical of him. Jerry’s life was over after he answered the call to this manor. So what makes him any different? 

     Aesop stared into the flames as he thought about it, they beckoned him forward. They lit the way towards his final destination. This is where it must end, his mind screamed. And this was the perfect opportunity, a sea of flames was fit for his burial. Because there would be no one to embalm him. Not a soul. Not a soul but his own. 

     Aesop began to back away from the inferno, but not for long, of course. He didn’t feel like he was piloting his own body as he approached his makeup case. Only being driven off pure instinct and his duty. It was like he was being magnetically drawn to the embalming kit. It was the first time he was on the receiving end of his services, and it was as relieving as it was exhilarating. He felt as if he were tasting freedom for the first time as he set up a syringe for the final time. But just as he stood up again to begin walking towards the manor. He was snapped out of his deathly trance. 

     Ganji stumbled out of the front entrance, leaning up against the door as he coughed the smoke out of his lungs. However, he didn’t take much time to rest before he bolted away. But he only got as far as the manor gates before he fell to his knees with a harsh skid. He seemed distraught and exhausted. It was safe to say that Aesop was right about the postman not making it out.

     Aesop approached with the needle meant for himself still in his hand. Something inside him said that he should reserve it for Ganji instead, judging by the state of him. Keeled over with his hands grabbing fistfuls of his own hair. Whatever he saw in there wasn’t for the faint of heart. And judging by the scars he already bore, he’s seen plenty already. Those scars Aesop saw as signs of resilience, but now he can see that their merely haunting memories embedded into flesh.

     Ganji heard footsteps approaching him and immediately froze, ceasing his breakdown. He straightened up and his hands fell from his hair to his lap.  But when he looked up to meet Aesop’s gaze he seemed to crack a little. 

     As Aesop knelt down to his level, he wasn’t hiding the syringe at all, but Ganji had yet to notice. His gaze fell back to the gravel road.

     “I couldn’t save him,” he murmured. But Aesop already knew that. “He was in the cellar. The ceiling fell…” he kept going, but it didn’t seem like he was talking to Aesop directly anymore. 

     “...I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t do anything.” he slams his fists into the ground, shaking a bit. He was close to his breaking point, if he wasn’t already there. Every word he spoke brought him one step closer to the edge. 

     Aesop reached out to him, though his hand only hovered above his shoulder. He eyed his neck, tunneling in on the vein he’d need to peirce. 

     “Well.” Aesop said in a voice far too calm for their predicament, “Good thing it’s over, no?” He raised the syringe upwards, and thanks to bright flames, Ganji caught the glint from the metal needle in his peripheral vision. And before the tip could even graze his skin, his hand flew up and tightly gripped Aesop’s wrist, pushing it away from him.

     Ganji stared at him, horrified. But what scared him the most was Aesop’s lack of a reaction. His face aloof, almost slightly solemn as he gave him a cold gaze. It was the first time their eyes met and Aesop didn’t immediately look away. And it sent shivers down Ganji’s spine. 

     “What’s in that?” Ganji asked, never once taking his eyes off the embalmer. Watching for any signs of life, of fear, malice, remorse, anything. But every anxious quirk he had seen from him, the things that humanized him that night. He couldn’t find any of it. He seemed barely conscious with no light behind his eyes. So they were back to square one. Aesop, the aloof and unnerving phantom. And Ganji, the unreadable man that kept himself behind lock and key. 

     Aesop tilted his head slightly, “Bromide hydrate. It’ll shut your body down slowly and painlessly until your life fades to nothing. Every memory of this night will be reduced to ashes, as will you. And as will I. It's better than suffering through the rest of our lives with the memory of this night haunting us, believe me.”

     Ganji’s heart raced, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They just survived a disaster and Aesop just wants to throw away their lives? He didn’t even try to hide it either, which Ganji couldn’t tell if that was better or worse. If anything, it made him sick. 

     “No!” Ganji shouted, “After all this? It should give us more of a reason to keep going.” 

     Aesop didn’t reply, but the words made him hesitate and loosen up a bit. Only because when Ganji spoke,  Aesop saw that familiar ember of determination behind Ganji’s eyes. The ones he saw that made him decide that it wasn’t his time to pass. He had those scars back then too, and yet they played no part in his decision. Why do they suddenly matter now? 

     Aesop swallowed harshly, this was the right thing to do, was it not? Ganji was obviously in great mental turmoil. Was he not in need of his services? 

     When Aesop tried to move again, Ganji grimaced and tightened his grip. Aesop winced, feeling the joints in his wrist slowly move apart with an audible crack. His grip on the syringe loosened, but not enough to make him drop it. So in an attempt to fully disarm the other, Ganji suddenly lunged forward and tackled Aesop to the ground.

     It wasn’t a particularly harsh fall considering they were both already so close to the ground, but it was enough to startle Aesop. And the syringe fell out of his hand and rolled somewhere into the grass. Though far out of Aesop’s reach. The embalmer grunted and coughed from being winded, looking up at Ganji as he loomed over him. 

     Ganji’s jaw remained clenched, but his bottom lip quivered. He remained frozen in place, unsure of his next move. He could let Aesop go and make a run for it. But he could risk being chased down. But as his vision focused, Aesop’s face came into full view. He peered up at Ganji almost sympathetically. And under Ganji’s vice grip, he was still; as limp as a corpse. Cold as one too. Experimentally, Ganji loosened his grip. Aesop didn’t move, just laid there like he’d been defeated. 

     Aesop, though his eyes were fixed on the man above him, was completely checked out from the moment. The only thing his mind could comprehend was the tightness around his wrists, and the chill in the air that was only dwindled by the flames that called to him. So truly, the only thing on his mind was his own death that awaited. He could make out Ganji’s figure but he didn’t necessarily process his presence. That was, until warm droplets began to fall onto his cheeks. 

     Aesop blinked away his foggy thoughts and looked at Ganji, truly looking at him. What had fallen on him was not rainfall but rather tears from Ganji’s eyes. 

     Tears were a sign of anguish. Aesop had cried plenty of times as a child, and he has seen many shed tears of sorrow for late loved ones at funerals and in front of graves. As he once did for her. But when Aesop looked into Ganji’s eyes he didn’t see that same familiar anguish he was used to seeing alongside tears. It was a mix of messy emotions, each one vastly different from each other. There was fury, some dejection, and perhaps a hint of confusion. But what was unmistakable was that determination Aesop came to associate him with. It was a desire to live despite all of life’s suffering. A form of determination Aesop will never be able to grasp.

     Ganji muttered to himself, though it wasn’t in english. So Aesop never caught any of it, he’ll never know what final words he spoke to him. He felt Ganji’s tears roll down his own cheeks to the point where it felt like he was crying too. 

     Aesop opened his mouth, after a few attempts of trying and failing to find words to say. He sighed and looked away towards the inferno and muttered, “Leave, get away from here.”

     Ganji’s jaw clenched. He hesitated to let Aesop go but he had already deduced that Aesop had accepted his loss. He hadn’t moved an inch for what felt like hours.  So cautiously, he let go. Relinquishing his grip and shakily rising to his feet. 

     He stared down at Aesop blankly, wiping away his tears and watched the ones that fell onto the embalmer’s face glisten in the firelight. And Aesop just laid there, didn’t say a word, didn’t move. Didn’t even look at him.

     Ganji started walking away, he curled his hand around the tall metal gates. Never once taking his eyes off Aesop. As he pulled them open with an ear-grating creak. He muttered his last words to Aesop in his own language, ones Aesop will die without ever understanding.

     “No matter what happens, you’ll probably end up being my biggest regret.” He stood still for a moment, staring down the gravel path that Ganji barely knew the route of. Perhaps he wanted those words to linger in the air a bit. Maybe Aesop would understand him by some miracle. But he knew he’d never be able to. Even if he understood his language, he’ll never truly understand what he meant. 

     And after those moments passed, Ganji made a break for it. Sprinting down the road and planning to do so until he’s run out of breath. Or, perhaps until a certain novelist would stop him.

     As for the embalmer, he listened until the sounds of Ganji’s running faded until he couldn’t hear the rocks grinding together. Then he sat up, slowly, like he was rising from the grave. He felt Ganji’s tears dry on his skin, he didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

     He looked around in the grass for his syringe, finding it discarded not far but certainly out of reach. He crawled towards it and held it in his hand, just simply staring at the miracle liquid that sat inside the glass. The needle felt heavy in his palm. He’s embalmed many lost souls in the past, his own aching one only found solace temporarily in his duty. But now that it was over, it was finally time to put himself to rest too. But now that it was his turn, it almost made him feel uneasy in a way. Perhaps it was nerves, or maybe excitement. Could it be relief? Aesop didn’t know, his mind was too numbed out to put a finger on it. 

     Ignoring the pain in his body, he forced himself to his feet and faced towards the burning building. His final resting place. It wasn’t the grave he imagined, but it would work in terms of disposing his own body. He took short, slow steps towards the open door. But once he realized he was only delaying the inevitable, he limped faster. 

     The growing heat that started to burn his skin was completely ignored as he stepped inside. As the flames surrounded him, he shakily brought the needle up to his neck before the fire could burn him. The feeling of the needle pressed against his neck sent a shiver up his spine, but he didn’t hesitate to inject himself. 

     Once it was done, his body collapsed. He felt the serum slowly run its course through his body almost immediately as the sea of flames took him under. His nerves numbed as fast the fire burned them away. Ganji’s tears evaporated from his cheeks as the brightness dimmed. And his whole life, or maybe lack thereof, faded to black.

     Death was a warm embrace, one as warm as a hearth. Or the arms of your mother.

*~~~~~*

     It was such a cruel fate to emerge in a world set ablaze. The garden, greenery had been reduced to ash. Though some bushes had yet to be immolated. The yellow roses still seemed to be thriving. The cocoon that nested amongst the stems and thorns were almost unbothered until it was unfortunately time to emerge.

     One was eager to push through the chrysalis, and once it was met with hot flames and a promise of cool air from the stars above, it wasted no time to fly upwards and leave its friend behind. Or perhaps it just hoped it would follow. 

     This butterfly had gorgeous blue wings as beautiful as the day’s sky. It flew quickly towards the broken glass. It dodged all the ash and fire that dared to block its path and made it out to safety. Or so it thought, its wings only caught fire once it was out of the garden, it landed to shake it off before attempting to fly off again. Though its wings were too injured to properly propel itself. And it fell to the ground, opting to crawl in the dirt instead.

     The other stayed behind, hiding in the remains of the chrysalis that offered it a false sense of safety. It only attempted to escape after the roses around it started to fall from being caught in the rising flames. But it was already too late, when it dared to spread its wings, the same color as the flowers it called home, it only made a few feet in the air before the embers caught the fragile wings and it fell back down into the bush. Where the fire ate it alive.