Work Text:
Kris exhales a long sigh, staring at the ground several feet below. The frigid air pricks at their skin as they stand on the windowsill, prepared to make an escape from the torrential noise of their life, the stress, the foreign invader, and whatever antics that newcomer is up to with their mother.
The thoughts of the prophecy are unavoidable, which is exactly why they desire to leave. They struggle to fully grasp their role—an agent for the Knight, but working passively against it. Serving both sides of the prophecy, achieving whatever outcome the stronger force wants. Working against their friends, all of them, while aching to get closer to them. Unable to truly, openly connect with anyone, despite their desperation—one never knows how much they long for something until it is unattainable.
Then, the intruder. The otherworldly entity somehow replacing Kris in their own life. Kris looks back to the cage, scowling. The SOUL sits there, unmoving, emanating an unnerving glow. That thing, which brings them so much tension, making them a traitor to their own self. That, which starved their body through days of activity and stole their mouth and limbs. That force, which gave them their role in the prophecy, a mere cage.
Their head hangs, heavy and aching. They’ve escaped their room this way many times before, but it doesn’t make the idea any easier. Supposedly, the fragile human body naturally resists anything that might put it in danger. But Kris knows that stronger wills can resist the instinct to avoid harm. Their will to escape the pressure, the stress, the guilt, the noise.
Otherwise, Kris possesses little autonomy. It is whatever they decide to do in their precious few minutes of freedom that protect their personhood, give them something outside of giving themselves up for others’ sake.
The ground waits below them, and they prepare to leap down, wanting anything but to be trapped in turbulence from outside their control. The ruckus from downstairs persists, and they grimace. Kris slips down in a practiced move.
There’s a bush below their window, untrimmed since their parents’ divorce and enough to break their fall. It still hurts, sending jolts through their body, but it’s far preferable to staying inside, trapped and unable to escape persistent discomfort.
Kris stands and brushes leaves off their clothes, long since accepting the inconvenience of the dozens of stabbing twigs.
Their hands shake. It could be adrenaline, but a familiar weight settles on them that it is not often paired with. The stress, the experiences of the day, weigh on them with crushing pressure. Exhaustion, but the inability to find relief. If they could find a distraction, a way to esca—
“Kris?”
They whip their head around toward the sudden voice. Around the corner of the house, Susie stands, watching. “Shit, dude, you okay? I heard something fall an—”
“I’m fine, Susie.” Kris interrupts, silently thanking the Angel for their saving grace. “I know what I’m doing.”
She chuckles. “Shoulda expected that. Something tells me you’re not the type to care ‘bout rules.”
“Something like that.” They respond. “What are you doing out so late?”
“Oh, uh,” she shuffles, “not in much hurry to get home. And I guess I was worried about you. Today was…a lot.”
There’s no denying that.
“So, uh, got anywhere to go? Or is the rain more comfortable than, uh, whatever’s goin’ on in there.”
There’s silence—Kris knows she understands, there’s nothing that needs to be said.
Then, Susie steps forward. She looks down at their hand and gently offers hers. “Should we go somewhere then, together? And get away from everything?”
The answer is a natural ‘yes’, but Kris still hesitates. They answer by placing their hand in hers, and she offers a small smile. They offer one in return before Susie turns to lead them to their “somewhere.”
“It’s kinda useless by now, but there’s a little covered picnic bench over this way. I don’t like how cold the rain is.”
“As long as it’s away from here, it’s fine.”
She laughs, and picks up her pace.
They’re content letting her lead, both physically and in the conversation. There’s so much they could say, but none of it would come without further questions, or worse. They arrive at their bench, and Susie plops down and exhales a heavy sigh. Kris takes a seat adjacent to her to conserve what body heat they both had left.
The rain has slowed, at least it’s not dropping into their eyes anymore, but their clothes and hair are still wet. Kris shivers. In their panicked impulse, they neglected even to fetch a coat.
Alerted by the movement, Susie turns to look at them, then offers them some space under her jacket. Kris accepts the closeness.
“Guess I’m not the only cold-blooded one here, right?” Kris doesn’t respond, so she looks away.
While Kris is content to sit static under the safety of her strong arm, Susie is unable to sit idly. She kicks her feet, taps her claws, and watches the subtle flutters of things in the wind.
Finally, she speaks. “So, this rain’s kinda crazy, right?”
“Yeah, pretty crazy”
“It’s, uh, kind of a bummer.”
“I like it. It feels nice.”
She looks down and fiddles with her claws. Their finger twitches, willing to hold her hand, but they resist. Moments pass before she speaks again. “You excited about the festival tomorrow?”
Kris presses their lips together. “I don’t know. There’s a lot going on, but I just wanna relax for once.”
“Real.”
The air returns to silence. Despite their attempts to stay in the moment, their mind wanders to the next day. They cringe, thinking of all the obstacles they helped set up and the covert sabotage they’d be expected to do. They shut their eyes, wanting to force those thoughts out of their hea—
“Argh, I just can’t stand it!” At Susie’s exclamation, Kris startles, breathing heavily. “Oh, shit, sorry dude.”
Exhaling, they wave it off. “I’ll be fine. What was that about?”
“It’s just this dumbass prophecy business.” She huffs. “Nothin’, like, important. Sorry for scaring you.”
Kris positions their body toward her. “The prophecy is pretty important”
“I don’t mean like—just, why do we have to deal with this stuff?”
That’s…a good question, Kris thinks. They’re a teenager, expected to work as an undercover agent, manipulating a prophecy that people at least ten years older ought to deal with.
“Yes, it’s important, the fate of the world or whatever, but I’m sixteen!” She raises her arms in frustration. “I don’t need to deal with this shit, so why are we the legendary heroes?”
Their eyebrows press together and they fist their pants. They can’t help but feel responsible for tugging her into this mess.
Susie huffs dismissively, crossing her arms. “I dunno, man, I didn’t want to bring all this up. I just wanted a break from this stuff.”
They raise their head to meet her eyes. “It’s okay, Susie. Sometimes talking helps.”
“Dude, you sound like Ralsei.” She laughs, then sighs. “Yeah, talking helps sometimes, but I wish I could just fucking do something, but I just feel weighed down by these expectations or whatever.”
“Who said you had to live up to anyone’s expectations?” They envy that she can be so free.
“Yeah, I guess that’s kinda what the old man said.” She leans back. “But still, I’ve been the ‘bad girl’ my whole life, and I didn’t even enjoy it the whole time. Now, even when I get to be more than that, I still have to, like, do stuff.”
“The old man said you could do whatever you want, though.”
Susie rests her elbows on her knees, swishing her hand. “You don’t think this ‘white pen’ is an expectation in itself?”
Inhaling, Kris looks away. Of course it is, the prophecy is stressful on everyone, not just them.
“Like, I can change the prophecy, but I’m an idiot teenager!” Her volume rises. “What if I do something stupid and make things worse?”
They wince, the guilt is unavoidable, and they hate leaving her ignorant. Susie’s shoulders tighten before she drops them with a loud huff.
“I want to do things right.” She’s quieter, gazing at the distant tree line. “I want to go on adventures with you, Ralsei, Lancer, and everyone else. I want Castle Town to be happy. I love spending time with all our friends, and I feel like I finally have somewhere I belong. I don’t wanna ruin everything.”
They stare, her silhouette illuminated by the faint moonlight. “I understand, it’s a lot to deal with.”
Of course she cares so much, of course she’s doing something about it. But what are they doing? They pound their fist on their thigh. Their job, their expectation, is to possibly end the world, their responsibility is to oppose their friends. The prospect of losing their friends almost paralyzes them more than being utterly stripped of agency.
Susie slides her hands over the wet surface of the bench, then she laughs. “I guess, if I’m being honest…I’m kinda scared. Heh, it’s strange, right?”
Kris smirks, bitterly.
“It’s like, if this is how bad it is now, and things have barely gotten started, how much worse can it get?” She’s fidgeting again. “I know I shouldn’t be scared, but I just don’t know how to deal with all this.”
“Susie, it’s okay to be scared.” They put their hand over hers, but she shakes it off.
“No it’s not!” She bares her teeth, as if cornered. “I’m supposed to be a tough girl, a badass hero! I can’t afford us being scared.”
Both of them are momentarily confused, then she resigns.
“I’m supposed to be the strong one.” She grumbles. “You and Ralsei need me.”
Kris shifts in their seat. Yes, they do need her, she’s perhaps the only legitimate friend they’ve had since the incident. But does she need me?
“Like, I’m the bully, the delinquent, the type of kid no one wants to be friends with. Now I have the power to change the world? Why would anyone trust me with something that big?”
That catches their attention.
“Like, Angel, it’s just so much, I don’t even know what to do with this. I just…don’t wanna mess up. Don’t wanna fail my friends.” It might be the rain, but Kris could swear they see teardrops glittering on her scales.
“Susie—”
She turns away. “I’m sorry, man, I don’t wanna put all this on you, it’s just so much pressure—”
“It’s not your fault!” They cling to her shirt, pulling her body to face themself. Hands firmly gripping the fabric, they rest their head against her chest. Cautiously, Susie places her hands over their shoulders.
“It’s not your fault, the prophecy, everything bad that might happen.” They squeeze tighter. Tears threaten to release from the pressure forced upon themself.
“But the pen—”
They take a shaky breath. “Please, it hurts, hearing you doubt yourself like that. You’re strong, the strongest person in the group.”
Lifting her hand, Susie combs through her hair and laughs. “Sorry, man, I guess I shouldn’t have weighed all that on you. Kind of a drag, right?”
They lean more against her body, exhausted. “It’s fine. If anyone’s a drag, it’s me.” They sigh, but fail to release the weight of expectation. “You and Ralsei would be better off if I weren’t...”
Immediately, Susie turns, eyebrows raised in concern and teeth slightly bared. Kris’ cheeks flush.
“Sorry, what?”
They curse themself. “Whatever, it was nothing.”
“No, dude, what?” She asks, astonished. “Why would we ever think that?”
The air tenses as Kris fumbles for an answer. Susie had her turn processing her struggles, but it felt wrong for them to impose their struggles on her, especially since they’re incidental in many of her struggles.
“I-I don’t know,” They release her shirt, resting their hands around their arms. “I’m just—forget about it.”
“Kris, you’re like, our main dude. You’re the one sealing all the fountains.”
Kris shivers. “I just feel like I—like, the Knight hurting Tenna, the Titan…I’m making everything worse.”
Susie chuckles. “What do you mean? Bro, you fought your ass off.” Not hard enough, they think. “We wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without you.”
They shake their head and slide away from her, curling into themself. Briefly, Susie pouts, before setting her hands behind her head and watching the sky. Kris takes the break from attention to breathe, long but quiet.
It’s always hard to accept reassurance for something if one knows the kind words to be false. Susie means the best, to relieve their doubts and motivate them, but her words all but fall on deaf ears. Kris rubs their arm. She can’t find out, I won’t let her.
But, oh, they long for her to hear their struggles. To relieve the guilt, move on from these expectations, and form a bond that can truly be on their terms. There’s no way she will easily accept that they’ve been working with the enemy, but they hope her open-minded nature will come through.
If they could befriend her without the interference of a foreign object, if she could understand their plight, they’d be happy.
Unfortunately, they must first see the prophecy through, and there’s no telling how much they could hurt her in the process. Trapped, they felt—
Susie taps them on the arm. “Do you wanna, I dunno, talk about it?”
“Huh?”
“It sounds like your thing is like my thing,” She smiles, with an atypically caring expression that Kris wishes to see more of. “so if there’s anyone that can understand you, it’s me. ‘Sides, I had my fair share of talking just now.”
You can ramble any time. At least your struggles are justified.
She’s right, mostly. Both teens are burdened by forces far above their influence, and Kris empathizes with her struggle. However, in realization of their role, Kris has long-since concluded to face their struggles alone.
“…No, sorry.” They mumble.
“Oh, uh, okay.” Susie scoots closer. “Is there anything else I can help you out with?”
“No, I want to handle this alone.”
They turn away and shiver. They should be comfortable in isolation, it’s the only way they can do their job. If no one knows, no one can intervene or argue. Yet, their heart aches for connection, an impossible bond with Susie, anything to free them from this weight. Why, why was this my choice?
Upon feeling contact with their thigh, they flinch. Susie’s posed to put her coat around them, but she hesitates.
Kris invites her closer regardless. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t ready for that.”
She places her coat on their shoulders. It’s heavy, grounding, and a welcome sensation after a day of stress. Willingly, they lean into her body, and she pulls them closer. They could sleep like this.
Out of the corner of their eye, Kris sees Susie eyeing their hands, so they cautiously take her free hand to cradle it in theirs.
If this comfort could last forever, they’d be content. This sensation is all they’ve desired for the past several days. If only the prophecy could be put off or something.
It’s hard to keep their eyes open to avoid falling asleep in the rain.
“Y’know, man, I don’t know why I thought this’d be easy.” Susie says.
They peer up at her.
“Like, Angel, I want to have fun adventures and stuff, but it’s, like, a fate-of-the-world prophecy.”
“You’ll do fine.” They adjust themself to get a better look at her. “I didn’t get the chance to say it earlier, but you’re so brave, audacious, and badass that I don’t think the prophecy stands a chance.”
She grins, affirming Kris’ compliment.
“You’re pretty damn badass yourself.” She pats their shoulder. “There’s no way you’re gonna ‘drag us down’ or whatever.”
Their lips press together, and they clench their fists. In response, Susie places a gentle finger over their knuckles.
“Just know that, whatever happens, I’ll always have your back.”
They stare at her hands. They’re powerful, fearlessly wielding an axe like an extension of herself, challenging anything that gets in the way of her future. Now, she’s holding theirs, like she’s offering for them to be part of that future. In many ways they’re entangled, and Kris hopes that’s for the best.
She rubs a claw over the back of their hand, before they grasp hers and sandwich it between their own. They give her palm a gentle squeeze.
Perhaps they would try to change their fate, even a little, or at least enable her to write her own. No matter what, they must accept responsibility for their actions.
They sigh. “I’m sorry, for anything I do, if I hurt you or Ralsei in any way, I—” They pause, confused for words. “I didn’t have—"
“Uh, wha—”
“Please, I don’t want to talk about it.” They look up at her. “Just accept it.”
Her lips purse. “Okay, if you say so.”
Her claw is still rubbing over their knuckles. It’s difficult to say whose hand is being cradled by whom, except that they are joined, supporting each other. Susie moves to entwine their fingers with hers.
She chuckles. “Just know, I think everything will be fine, as long as I can make it.” She tilts her head with a smile. “So don’t worry ‘bout it, okay?”
Kris can’t help but smile in return. Their dread is nowhere near quelled, but they find comfort in her. It may be exhaustion, the desperate need for sleep, but they feel like dropping their struggles in favor of rest, recovery from the hardship and expectations.
They take up her hand and hold it to their chest. In reciprocation, she pulls them closer with her elbow so their ear rests against her chest, and they hear her heartbeat.
There they sat, together in comfortable silence, dismissive of the dread of tomorrow.