Chapter Text
‘Forget about me. Don’t live on in memory of me. Live on as who you are.”
It was an ordinary morning, winter was soon coming to a close. The sun had only begun to rise from its hiding place behind the clouds. In a distant hospital, a young demon-hybrid lay asleep in his bed. In a few moments, he’d wake.
The moment his eyes flickered open, his senses were assaulted with the smell of antiseptic and the sharp pain that bloomed deep within his bones. With each breath, an intense and sharp pain stabbed through his abdomen. It seemed that he had broken or fractured quite a number of his bones.
The doctor walked into the room, sporting hazel hair and matching hazel eyes, the boy noticed bright green feline ears sticking out from the doctor’s hair. He was holding a clipboard. It seemed he was doing rounds and checking on his patients. His eyes landed on the demon. Noticing he was awake, he immediately walked up to his bed, eyes filled with an equal amount of relief and worry.
“Do you know where you are?”
The demon-hybrid didn’t recognize this doctor, nor this location at first glance, so he shook his head. The doctor tried again.
“Do you know who you are?”
Now this was something he could answer. He parted his lips, trying to force his voice out. It felt like something was clawing at his throat with each try.
“W.. Wehh.. mmbu.”
Surprised at his own inability to speak, Wemmbu reached up to touch his throat. However, his fingertips brushed bandages instead of skin.
“Do you know how old you are?”
“Six.. Teen..”
The doctor smiled, seemingly relieved that even though Wemmbu couldn’t speak, he was still aware of his own identity and seemed awake and alert. The doctor then handed Wemmbu a hand mirror, allowing him to look at himself.
“Most of your wounds healed up pretty well which is mainly thanks to your demon-hybrid biology. But still, you sustained a lot of damage. My staff and I will assist you with walking while you recover.”
Wemmbu nodded at what he was saying, but it was really just for show. The doctor’s words were really just going through one ear and out the other.
Still, he picked up the hand mirror and looked at himself.
The reflection of a young demon with messy bright purple hair and tired eyes stared back at him. One of his horns had broken off, leaving a stump where it used to be. His face still featured a few bandages. One on his cheek, right under the mirrored mole under his right eye.
His gaze became absent as memories rushed to his head.
The whistling of TNT dropping, and the deafening sound of it exploding filled his ears. The blood that pooled under his feet showed him a reflection. The reflection of a young demon whose horn bled as it fell to the ground, hands burned from shielding someone or something from the explosion. He absorbed the impact.
‘Don’t live on in memory of me.’
Feeling the phantom burn and pain in his body, he jolted suddenly, dropping the hand mirror, causing it to shatter on the ground.
The doctor immediately called for nurses and cleaners to sweep up the glass shards. After ensuring there were no splinters of glass left on the floor, the doctor spoke again, softer this time.
“It’s alright. You’re in Sky Clinic in Capitol City who’s currently being ruled Under Mayor Fymada.”
Wemmbu still felt a little dazed, but he understood that he was safe. He nodded to show the doctor that he did. Silence filled the room again, broken by the doctor’s soft tone. “I’ll get your things, okay?”
Wemmbu nodded mindlessly at the words.
While the doctor was gone, Wemmbu's eyes darted around the unfamiliar space. There were lines of beds to his left and right. He also had two bedside tables, one of them had been decorated with a potted flower. The gentle morning glow shone through the window, falling on his broken body.
A few more moments passed and the brown-haired doctor came back, carrying a medium-sized briefcase. He carefully placed it on Wemmbu’s lap, not able to look him in the eyes as he did. Then left again to probably get documents or something of the sort.
He opened his briefcase and was instantly reminded that he didn't own much. His position didn’t really allow him to. The suitcase only housed a couple trinkets, his eyes landing on a particular one. A dated sunflower keychain.
It stirred something in his chest. A heavy pain settling, burning with misery that he didn’t know the reason for. The image of a smiling boy with short blonde hair flashed into his mind.
“R..Ree- Rejoice!”
He forced out. Wemmbu scrambled to get up, ignoring the harsh pain that bit at his bones and skin. His spade-tipped tail slid out from beneath the blankets. It was still wrapped in bandages. “W-Where’s Rejoice?!”
The doctor immediately came back, alerted by the sudden sound. He found Wemmbu out of bed, wobbling on his legs. He hastily came to the demon's side, holding him steady by his shoulders and trying to get him to settle back down on the bed. Wemmbu’s mind spun into a mess. A cacophony of thoughts telling him that he needed to be near Rejoice. To protect and be protected.
At the same time, someone walked into the room.
“Ah– Mr. MinuteTech–” The doctor hesitated. Exasperated at the entire situation.
“It’s alright, Wato.” Wemmbu's attention fell on the voidling.
The voidling was quite tall, and wore a suit with a red bow tie. His black hair was slicked back. He looked proper and put together, unlike Wemmbu; whose short, purple hair still looked like a bird’s nest, and his hospital gown swallowed his malnourished body whole.
“I’m MinuteTech, but you can just call me Minute.” Pale grey, nearly white eyes looked at Wemmbu’s dark, exhausted ones. His voice was smooth and his tone was gentle. Minute pulled out a chair and sat across from him.
He remembered seeing the voidling a few times in his time serving the mafia. He had been talking with Rejoice about something. It was something Rejoice never told him about. Telling the demon that it was a “secret”. Wemmbu then realized that Minute must’ve been of higher ranking than both of them in the mafia. He quickly raised his hand to his forehead in a salute.
Minute’s eyes widened and he immediately waved his hands in embarrassment. “Um.. At ease,” That prompted Wemmbu to put down his hand. “I’m just a civilian now, alright? There’s no need to address me as that anymore.”
Wemmbu nodded. He sat back down on his bed.
He wished to ask Minute about Rejoice, but his throat seemed to disagree with him. Forcing his voice out was extremely painful. He gave up after not being able to say a single syllable.
Even though Wemmbu couldn't force out the words, Minute was able to pick up on the questioning expression on Wemmbu's face.
“You and Rejoice were deployed in the Mafia's army against the Farlands civilization.”
“There was a big explosion that resulted in many casualties.” Minute paused, watching Wemmbu's face for any sort of recognition or violent reaction.
The new information was enough for Wemmbu to start to piece together parts of what had happened. Ignoring the ache in his body, he pushed himself up further with one arm. He looked up at Minute with wide eyes, his tone hopeful.
“Alive?”
Wemmbu’s voice was hoarse, cutting out like a broken speaker. He couldn’t tell if it was from the injury on his neck, or from the emotions that had started building up. The doctor, or rather, Wato, opened his mouth to speak, but Minute answered for him.
Minute nodded. “He’s alive thanks to you saving him in time. But—”
“Want to see him.”
“You can’t.”
Wemmbu paused, his hands clenched, talons digging deep into his hands. His eyebrows furrowed deeply. ‘Why not?’ The voidling seemed to read the question from his face. He was quiet for a while. Wemmbu could tell from his face that something was wrong.
After a few more moments of silence, Minute finally opened his mouth to speak, prompting Wemmbu to lean closer, eager to know.
“He’s in critical condition. He has a lot of burn wounds on his body that could easily get infected. He needs to be in a sterile room.” Minute spoke carefully.
Wemmbu was quiet, looking down at his open briefcase. His eyes zeroing on the sunflower chain, feeling his heart sink to his stomach.
He was at least happy that he got confirmation that Rejoice was alive. The demon then looked back up at Minute. He could see himself in the reflection in Minute's eyes even as they were clouded with pity. He slowly nodded in understanding after a few moments.
“He did ask something of me, though.” Minute said slowly, Wemmbu's gaze immediately snapped back to Minute's. “Rejoice wanted you to live with me in my home.”
That was something Wemmbu hadn't heard before. Home. Home. Home. It was unfamiliar sounding. He wouldn’t know how to sound it out on his lips.
“W..Whaat.. Is.. That?” He asked. Minute was quiet for a long time after he asked. Eventually, the voidling answered softly.
“Somewhere where you can live and do as you want.”
The demon-hybrid thought about it for a while. Trying to find something in his memories that matched that description.
‘Live on as who you are.’
The words were whispered into his brain, festering and burning there, dripping into his conscience like poison. It hurt. The owner’s name melted onto his tongue.
“Re..joice..” Wemmbu murmured. Minute seemed to not be able to respond, a pained expression on his face.
Silence filled the room for a moment before Minute spoke again, his tone somehow even softer than before. “If you want to come with me just tell Wato, okay?”
Wemmbu sat up and nodded. He watched as Minute stood up to leave. But right on time, a question popped up in his mind, prompting him to also suddenly stand up, Minute stopped In his traps, turning around to look back at the demon.
“Sir! Where.. Would I go if.. I don’t..?” He asked quietly.
“If Rejoice recovers enough, then you’d have the choice to stay with him as your legal guardian. But for right now, you have the choice to go with me and leave if you want when you’re 18, or be put in an orphanage until you’re 18.”
Wemmbu was quiet. Of course he wanted to stay with Rejoice. Even if he knew that when Rejoice was released from the hospital, his wounds would still hinder him from being able to move around freely. But it’d be just fine because Wemmbu would care for him. He would repay him for everything he’s done for him.
But for now… He remembered Minute’s words. “He did ask something of me.” “Rejoice wanted you to live with me in my home.”
He wasn't sure he could trust Minute, but he was sure he could trust Rejoice.
He looked up at Minute. “..With you.”
Minute smiled softly. “Okay. Rest up today, and we’ll go tomorrow. Okay?”
He only waved goodbye to Wemmbu as he left. The demon stood still, dazed. He sat back down on his bed, holding the sunflower keychain carefully in his hands. It was his most precious item.
Even more precious than himself.
He looked out the window. The surroundings had become unfamiliar. Wemmbu hadn't been to Capitol City in a while. Much had changed since he went there with Rejoice during winter an unknown amount of time ago. It had been snowing.
He picked up one of the newspapers that was left near another patient's bed. Wemmbu read the headliner.
‘After over 4 years, war between the Invisible Mafia and Farlands Civilization finally ends. Thousands of members…’
He pursed his lip, lost in his thoughts for a moment. He was later interrupted when a nurse came in to bring him food. Wemmbu then realized he hadn't eaten all day. He had developed the habit of suppressing his hunger, functioning on whatever his body had left, usually pure adrenaline.
This had come from his time fighting alongside the mafia. Sometimes, rations ran low. Rejoice and Wemmbu were the lowest on priority at the time, usually given nothing but leftovers for days on end.
Rejoice would usually encourage him to eat more. Even halving the already little he was given just to give it to Wemmbu. He remembered training himself after that. Training himself to not even dare look at Rejoice’s food. Because if he did, Rejoice would kindly offer him his food without even a second thought. He was far too kind for someone so frail.
The nurse, who had splotches of orange scales littered on his skin, and sunglasses on the top of his head. He placed Wemmbu's plate of food and cup water on his bedside. “You should eat. You were asleep for a while.”
Wemmbu was still looking at the nurse, who then introduced himself. “I'm Nurse Pangi by the way. You can call on me if Wato isn't around.”
Wemmbu nodded, watching Pangi walk away. He looked at the plate of food, then suddenly looked up. “P..Paangi.” He called.
Pangi immediately turned around, smiling and obviously ready to listen. “Yes?” He sat on the chair next to Wemmbu's bedside.
“Did he eat?”
Wemmbu knew that Pangi seemed to know who he was talking about, since he made the same face that Wemmbu noticed everybody else seemed to make when he mentioned Rejoice. Their faces were always painted with an abstract pity that Wemmbu could never seem to decipher the meaning behind.
Pangi took a couple moments before nodding his head, a small smile forming on his face. He wondered if Pangi had any wounds anywhere, because his smile looked a little pained.
“Yeah. He ate all his vegetables, too.”
He looked back down at his plate and felt a little happy. He was happy that Rejoice was eating well. It meant that he'd heal faster. His wounds would close and maybe he'd be able to see him quicker.
Pangi then told him. “Ah, before I forget. Dr. Wato told me that you should refrain from speaking for a while.”
Wemmbu could guess why. Pangi didn't leave the room, seemingly tending to other patients in other beds. But if it was for any other reason, Wemmbu realized it quickly. Rejoice had taught him how to use utensils, and yet when he tried picking up his spoon and fork, his hands shook and he spilled soup all over himself.
Pangi immediately rushed to his side, cleaning the spilled food quickly. He changed the bandages on Wemmbu’s hands. The demon had been quiet the whole time.
Wemmbu refused to let Pangi feed him. Instead, he did everything he could to try to do it himself. In the end, he could only manage 5 spoonfuls, but to the demon, that was already more than he'd eaten in the past 4 years.
Pangi took Wemmbu’s plate and cup away when he told him he was done eating.
Wato came back after an hour or so, “Do you want to try walking?” He asked Wemmbu softly.
The demon nodded. He needed to be able to walk if Rejoice ever needed help walking. Needed to be strong enough to carry him everywhere. Wato held him by his arms, and Wemmbu stood up. Immediately, as all his weight shifted to his legs, they buckled and he nearly fell over.
The pain was unimaginable, but it was nothing new. Rejoice must’ve experienced something even more painful if his wounds were even more severe than his.
Wato held his arms as Wemmbu kept walking. They made it to the window opposite to Wemmbu's. The demon-hybrid took a moment to look outside. A layer of frost covered the world. His breath fogged up the window.
It had been a while since he's seen anything so peaceful. Rejoice would certainly like the scenery. He'd write all about it, and read it to Wemmbu as a bedtime story.
He was excited to live with Rejoice when he was fully healed.
Wemmbu walked back to his bed, Wato making sure he didn't fall. After a while, the doctor left, closing the door and turning off the light. A few nurses had quietly entered to shut the blinds on windows whose beds were being used.
The demon-hybrid reached for his suitcase and pulled out his precious sunflower keychain. He curled around it, pressing it to his chest. ‘I miss you.’ The demon thought.
The image of Rejoice's smiling face lingered behind his eyelids. Wemmbu ran his hand through his hair and imagined his own hand as Rejoice’s, as if the other was right beside him to comfort him from his nightmares. He fell asleep after a few minutes.
The next day, Wemmbu watched the sun rise from his bed. It was a little boring, but he found a pen in his bedside drawer. He decided to try writing on the newspaper he had gotten earlier, trying over and over till he could write words without dropping the pen or the newspaper.
As the clock on the wall hit 7:30, a nurse came to give Wemmbu breakfast. It had been something sweet. Wemmbu wasn’t sure what it was. Only knowing that it was a flat yet fluffy piece of bread, and it had a sweet, sticky sauce on it. He enjoyed eating it.
Wemmbu was trying to write again, but was interrupted as Minute entered. He was going to salute again, but remembered the voidling’s words from yesterday. Instead, he noticed the voidling was wearing a trenchcoat and a red scarf. He also realized that he was holding a bag. Minute slowly approached and sat at the stool near Wemmbu’s bed.
“I brought you clothes so that you can change into something warmer.” He said softly, bringing out a simple white shirt, pants, a navy blue trenchcoat, a purple scarf, and a pair of purple gloves.
If it hadn’t been obvious enough that Minute had thoroughly prepared, it became even more obvious as the voidling brought out even more items.
“Wato told me before I left that you needed to refrain from talking so I brought you a pen and a notebook.” The voidling handed it over to Wemmbu.
Wemmbu paused and gripped the pen and notebook, “How are you aware I could write?”
The pen had a stable grip, even with Wemmbu’s damaged and gloved hands, it didn’t slip that much, making it easier to write.
“Rejoice told me that he taught you to when I visited the mafia a little while back. Hmm.. I think that was.. 2 or 3 years ago?” Wemmbu was quiet, listening to every word carefully.
The demon then wrote again on his pen and paper. “Thank you.”
Minute smiled, and raised his hand to ruffle Wemmbu’s hair, but the demon immediately flinched back and backhanded Minute’s arm away from him. It had been a reflex born out of fear, not violence.
Minute’s smile faded but he did not respond with anger. Instead, he apologized. “I’m sorry.” He said once. Then again, “I should’ve asked for your permission first, I apologize.”
Wemmbu shook his head and wrote, “I didn’t mean to hit.” He didn’t know what to write next. Minute only shook his head.
“It’s alright, Wemmbu.”
After a few moments, the voidling cleared his throat. “Alright, are you ready to come with me now? I still have a few things for you in the car.”
The demon paused. A car? He hadn’t known Minute was rich. Then he realized he hadn’t answered Minute’s question yet. He nodded.
Wemmbu grabbed his things, and with Minute’s and a few nurses’ help, he was able to get to the front of the hospital without much issue.
He looked inside longingly. He wanted to see Rejoice. To say goodbye before he went, but he knew he couldn’t. He didn’t want Rejoice’s wounds to get worse. Especially because Wemmbu knew Rejoice was frailer than him. He didn’t have advanced regeneration like he did.
As he made it to the car, he waved goodbye to Wato and Pangi, who were smiling as they waved him off. Wemmbu had never been in a car before. He looked around curiously, and noticed there was a guy driving.
The demon didn’t pay the driver much mind. He had his briefcase on his lap. He held it closer to him knowing the keychain was still inside. It needed to be protected. If he let the briefcase fall, there was a chance the keychain would break.
Looking away from his briefcase, he noticed Minute had more things in the car. The voidling was looking through more bags.
Minute then turned to Wemmbu slowly, holding two stuffed toys. One of a purple cat, and one of a yellow dog. “Which one would you like?” Minute asked, gently holding out the two stuffies closer to Wemmbu.
The demon looked between them, before picking the yellow dog. It reminded him of Rejoice’s blonde hair. Minute hummed. “Well.. Actually, you can have both if you want.” Wemmbu looked at him then wrote in his notebook.
“Why did I have to choose, then?”
Minute smiled sheepishly. “...I don’t know. I didn’t want to be pushy and give you both if you didn’t even want any of them.” The demon didn’t know what to write in response, so he didn’t write anything.
Wemmbu turned to look back out the window, his tail curling curiously, finally able to move now that it was out of its bandages.
Capitol City was bustling now, more people on its streets and more stalls were set up. The city seemed warm, even if it was snowing outside. Maybe he and Rejoice could visit the stalls one day.
They stopped in front of a big manor. Wemmbu's eyes widened slightly. “This is my home.” Minute said, his voice smooth from inside the car.
The manor must've cost thousands of netherite to pay off. It was almost as big as Capitol City's main building. Although currently covered in a thick layer of frost, Wemmbu could tell that beneath the snow lay a big field of lush grass. Surely come spring, this manor would be shining beautifully.
Minute was smiling as he observed Wemmbu, noticing how his eyes glimmered with childlike-wonder. A sense of relief filled the voidling.
After a while, Wemmbu gently set down his briefcase in favor of taking out his notebook, he wrote,
“Will Rejoice also live here too?”
Minute smiled and nodded. “Yeah, he will when he gets better.”
He led Wemmbu inside. Inside the manor was cozy. A campfire had been lit and the windows were closed. Most of the furniture inside had been carved out of high-quality wood. While it was expensive and noble-looking, Wemmbu could tell the furniture was slightly worn, used.
The demon-hybrid noted the scratch marks on the floors and walls that couldn’t have been from MinuteTech since voidlings didn’t have talons.
The voidling paused, looking around for something before leading Wemmbu to the living room. It was near the fireplace and had a window that overlooked the field. The fog currently obstructed much of the view, therefore Wemmbu could not see what things lay beyond the field.
“I forgot to tell you,” Minute’s words snapped Wemmbu out of his thinking. “There are other people in this manor aside from us.”
It wasn’t really a bother to Wemmbu. He had lived with other people before. Privacy was never really an option to him when he served the mafia. So when Minute led him to a room that housed a bed with purple bedsheets and a purple rug, he was rather surprised. He started writing in his notebook.
“Won’t the person I’m staying here with be bothered by all the purple?”
Minute raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t sharing a room with anyone. This is your own room.”
Wemmbu looked straight at him, face filled with surprise. He looked around his room.
In the corner of the room lay a study table with a good amount of books, then opposite of it was the bed with purple bedsheets and two fluffy, white pillows. In between those two pieces of furniture was a purple rug and another desk and stool that faced out the window, allowing him to have a view of the outside.
He wrote in his notebook.
“I’m allowed to sleep in the bed?” Minute nodded. “Of course.”
Wemmbu went over to it and ran his hand over the bedcover. Applying pressure, his hand sank a little. The feeling of it beneath his fingertips was soft. It was just as Rejoice said. ‘Fancy people get fancy things.’
But Wemmbu wasn’t anything fancy. He knew he was expendable. Useless in the army, but useful to Rejoice. Rejoice gave him purpose. Something to protect, somewhere to belong. Without him, he was useless. Rejoice had so much to be, so much to do, Wemmbu could only follow. Rejoice was the important one, not him.
He gripped his pen, “Isn’t this for important people?” Minute immediately shook his head.
“This is for people.” He said softly.
Wemmbu looked at him with a confused expression on his face. He couldn’t understand the sentiment.
“Don’t think about it too hard. Rejoice wanted you to have this, too.” Wemmbu remembered what Minute had told him. He still couldn’t understand why. Why Rejoice would want any of this for him. He didn’t need a lot. He was fine with leftovers. He was fine with sleeping on a hard, cement floor. He was fine with nothing at all.
But then again, it was Rejoice. Anything that Rejoice said must be right. He wasn’t going to question Rejoice just because he wasn’t beside him. He trusted him. He looked out the window, watching the frost fall from the heavens. His thoughts had been so loud, he hadn’t realized he had been silent.
Hearing Minute’s footsteps, he turned around. The voidling had only taken a few, small steps toward him. “I want to introduce you to the other people in this mansion, but I want you to take it slow first.”
Wemmbu nodded.
“I’ll probably introduce you to them tomorrow when they get back, alright?”
He raised a brow, he started writing again. “From where?”
Minute hummed, “From school. I’ll be sending you to school as well.”
Wemmbu paused. He didn’t know what school was. Sure, he heard Rejoice talk about it a few times. Life before they had become soldiers, but their discussion had been brief. He recalled the moment.
They were sitting in the trenches, watching the moon, waiting patiently for the right time and signal to move. Rejoice hummed as he leaned against Wemmbu so that he could braid his hair.
“I can’t wait to get out of here and go back to school.” Rejoice said softly, braiding one of the longer strands of Wemmbu’s hair.
“School?” Wemmbu asked quietly, Rejoice’s fingers stopped their work for a moment before continuing.
“It’s a safe place where you and a lot of other kids go to learn about a lot of things. It’s where I first learned to read and write.” The blond-haired boy said. Wemmbu hummed in response.
“Would I be allowed to go with you?” The demon-hybrid asked, Rejoice smiled.
“Well.. Since I’m older than you, we’d probably be at different levels. But we’d still see each other.” Rejoice said.
“Promise?” Wemmbu asked quietly.
“Promise.” The other responded.
Their conversation had been cut short by a flare gun going off, their signal.
But that wasn’t where he was anymore. He wasn’t in the trenches, he wasn't next to Rejoice. The air wasn’t humid and suffocating with the smell of gunshots and gore. He was standing in a room that belonged to him with an voidling standing right in front of him. He hadn’t responded yet.
“What about Rejoice?” He wrote.
Minute smiled as he nodded. “Yeah, I can arrange for him to go to school too when he gets better.” He watched the voidling take a quick breath in. “You.. You should rest now, okay? You’ll probably have a long day tomorrow.”
Minute waved goodbye and left the room. Wemmbu watched him go and sat down on his bed, bringing the stuff Minute had given him, as well as his briefcase.
He decided to put the yellow dog and purple cat stuffies he got from the voidling on the bed, sitting together. He then gently put his briefcase on his table. As he opened it, he gently took the dated sunflower keychain and held it to his chest.
The sun pierced through the clouds, its warm rays hitting Wemmbu’s study table. Winter was coming to an end; melting away memories that had been locked in snow, giving way to lush grass and new beginnings. Spring was starting to bloom.