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After the entire situation with Fulwish, all Sunday had wanted to was take a decade long nap. He was tired. Dealing with Caelus almost dying again was hard enough. He hadn’t even started processing that fear before he had to use his tuning to assist Blade in controlling Shuhu’s flesh. It was truly a mess.
And Sunday despised messes. Messes meant imperfection. And despite all the progress he’d made with his partners, perfection was still something he instinctively strove for.
And by the time Sunday returned to the Express with Dan Heng and Caelus, keeping his eyes open felt like a chore. He had barely made it through the door before collapsing onto one of the couches in the Parlor Car. He really just wanted to nap for ages.
The mask might’ve amplified his tuning but that didn’t mean he was used to it. Consciously using it on so many people at the same time hurt. And having to relearn how to use his powers made him feel oddly inadequate. It made him feel…a little more useless. Sure, he was slowly learning how to be comfortable with himself as imperfect, but his self confidence was still an incredibly fickle thing.
Especially the moments before and during tuning. When he asked Blade if tuning would help, everyone’s eyes snapped to him, as if he said he was going to walk into incoming traffic. Except Blade had admitted it might help, and when Ashveil protested, Sunday dismissed it with what was supposed to be a joke.
Apparently it fell flat.
Mostly because no one laughed.
And Dan Heng and Caelus looked like they wanted to hug him and strangle him at the same time.
Still, the familiarity in it unsettled him more than the pain of the situation ever could. It felt far too easy. Terrifyingly easy. It made him feel disgusted. Disgusted by the fact that slipping back into power felt easy. Disgusted by the fact it made him feel powerful again. Disgusted by the fact he could hear Gopher Wood’s voice in his ear whispering how to perfectly nudge people’s thoughts.
It sickened him.
Maybe that’s why on the way back from the tower he kept getting worried glances from everyone. He was tired, sure, but he’d even flinched when Caelus tried to hug him. Flinched.
The horror.
It just made him feel even worse. Especially because after, the worried glances came from Ashveil too. He knew it wasn’t meant to make him feel bad, but that’s what it did. It made him want to crawl into a hole and pass away. Pity glances were unbearable under normal circumstances. Seeing it in boyfriends’ eyes just made it worse.
That was not including him deciding to not acknowledge the fact he could still hear the whisper of Gopher Wood in his mind.
A faint whisper in the back of his mind.
Something to the tune of “showing weakness makes you worthless.”
He knew he should’ve composed himself better after the tuning, but he didn’t have enough energy to do so. He felt wiped out. He could barely look ahead without his head pulsating from the light of the sun.
Layering all the emotional problems on top of his absolutely terrible migraine, you have what Caelus would’ve likely called a “shit cake.”
Not that the description was inaccurate.
Tuning so many people at once was physically draining. He hadn’t used the Harmony in that capacity…ever. It had always been the Order he used, even if his abilities were a mix of both paths at first. The Order had been easier. Familiar. Controlled.
And again that was ignoring the fact he had pulled out of Blade’s mental state a little too late and felt Shuhu looking back.
It was terrifying.
And he decided to actively ignore it in favor of keeping his sanity for a little longer, lest he make his migraine worse from stress or anything similar. And he had been blessed with that ability onceas they made it to the Parlor Car, because as soon as they arrived on the Express, he moved to flop onto the couch before anyone could talk to him. And it appeared that everyone got the hint, mostly because nobody disturbed him thankfully.
So he took the longest nap he had ever taken in his life.
Except when he woke up—still in the Parlor Car—he opened his eyes to see a pair of bright pink and blue eyes staring back.
“...March?” Sunday mumbled, voice still rough with sleep as he slowly moved to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. Of course she would still have energy, she hadn’t seen for herself the events at the top of the tower.
“Sunny! Why is everyone else so tired?” She whined, moving to sit next to him before leaning against him. “Caelus is still sleeping, and Dan Heng is putting stuff into the Archives but refuses to talk which means he’s putting something emotionally vulnerable in them in order to emotionally process them.” She looked up at Sunday, who avoided her gaze by looking down at the floor before shrugging.
“...The tower was…a lot. How about we put it that way.” He said, unwilling to give more details just yet. Mostly because Sunday himself hadn’t processed all of it either. And he would rather…not process it at all.
“Oh.” March mumbled, unsure of what to do next.
Silence settled for a few seconds, but because March was well…March, she jumped out of her seat.
“Well! If it’s just you today, then we’re going shopping!” She grinned, moving to grab Sunday’s hands and pull him to stand up, which nearly sent him stumbling. The world tilted before he caught himself once more.
The image of Fulwish calling him a criminal on live television very quickly flashed through his mind. “Maybe that’s not the best idea, bunny,” he mumbled, which received a confused look from March. And she did look adorable when she was confused.
Fortunately, that thought could remain buried forever.
“Why?~” She whined, pulling him towards the door anyway, “you’ll be fine. If anyone stares too much you can scare them anyway!” She grinned, moving to start pulling him out the door.
“Fine, fine, fine just give me a second, okay?” Sunday huffed, squeezing her hand before pulling away, but only to straighten his collar and readjust all of his accessories. Some habits, he supposed, refused to die.
“You’ll be fine if you look a little messy,” March huffed, but she did step forward to help Sunday adjust his collar. Apparently she’d already realized it was futile to try. But, she did still ruffle up his hair a little to give a small attempt. And as Sunday’s hands instinctively reached up to fix it, March moved to hold them instead.
“Now shall we go?” She smiled.
Sunday could only nod in response. Mostly because he remained tragically susceptible to affection.
Yes…perhaps he still had things to work on.
Regardless, as soon as they left the train terminal they got far too many stares. Yet March appeared unfazed. Sunday managed to also appear unfazed but the stares made him incredibly uneasy. Sure, he had gotten used to glances and glares as the head of the Family. Losing everything and becoming a felon, however, had made him considerably more cautious.
Not that it mattered considering if someone stared for too long March loudly said, “Yeah I recently sharpened the tips of my arrows! They’re extra ready for combat now!” While staring the person down.
Which, despite himself, made Sunday quietly laugh into his hand, which apparently only egged March on more, which just led to it cycling again.
By the time they had made it out of the station, March was rambling on about a memory of her and Caelus where they had tried to make slushies out of her Six-Phased ice, but it only led to them getting brain freezes and frozen tongues because the ice was far too cold for consumption. Which was honestly expected.
“I bet Dan Heng wasn’t too happy, hm?” Sunday said with a grin as they walked through the town center, all the bustle around them blurring into the background as he focused on his girlfriend. It was nice, being able to feel…normal. If only for a while.
“He was mad, but we got him to calm down by being annoying like we always are.” March grinned proudly, before noticing a store and very quickly moving to drag him inside. “C’mon! I wanted to show you some The Fluffy merch I saw of you!”
Sunday didn’t really have a choice. For someone so small, she was absurdly strong. And she pulled Sunday along. It was clearly a fan merch store. The moment Sunday looked up, someone gasped. And he was pretty sure that in Caelus’ words his “heart dropped to his ass.”
Almost immediately March and him were swarmed by a group of fans and people seemingly materializing from every direction.
And the noise certainly didn’t help ease his headache even further.
“It’s Sundove!”
“Oh my god it’s March Bunny!”
“Can I get an autograph?”
March froze, before starting to laugh. “Of course! C’mon someone have a pen?” She asked, easily taking the unexpected attention.
Sunday would forever question how she did that.
Sure, he’d been used to attention but with people in power. In places where unspoken rules, dominating etiquette, and subtle political maneuvers always took place. None of those things ever happened in normal day to day interactions with normal people. So while he was excellent at detecting subtle lies or noticing social power play moves, he didn’t know how to ask someone about their hobbies without feeling as though he’d accidentally committed a social offense.
He still wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up with three partners. And frankly, he thinks they’re all insane.
But maybe they—including him—all are, he supposes.
“Hey! Could I get your autograph? I’m a huge fan!” A smiling fan with a pen and what seemed like an autograph journal pulled Sunday out of his thoughts. And for a second, Sunday froze. Unsure of what to do, he probably looked ridiculous.
At least until March grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“Uh, yes of course.” He mumbled, quickly grabbing the pen and writing his signature on it, the movement almost perfect through years of signing documents as the Family head.
“Thank you so much!” They smiled before scampering off with the rest of the crowd that had already dispersed. It certainly gave Sunday whiplash. Though March seemed unaffected if the way her smile was somehow bigger was any implication.
March laughed, nudging Sunday with her shoulder. “See, Sundove, it wasn’t that bad.”
“...I suppose not.” Sunday mumbled, though his wings threatened to cover his embarrassed face. A nervous habit he’d picked up after leaving Penacony. Perhaps because he no longer had immense power to hide behind. Yet hearing the nicknames they gave him always made his heart stumble. And he was fairly sure he’d never get over the feeling.
Not that he ever wanted to get over it anyway.
“...I know we didn’t buy anything but c’mon, I have a new idea.” March grinned, pulling him out of the merch store once more. He’d learned early on not to fight against it, mostly because denying March’s plans rarely went well for anyone involved.
So they ended up on a bench in the Entertainment Plaza, a very needed change considering how much his headache spiked at the fan interaction. Watching the imaginae roam around. Well, at least Sunday himself was. He was staring at what seemed like an animal imaginae somehow perform maintenance on a lamppost, its precision seemingly at odds with its fluffy appearence. He was very curious how the imaginae would work in Penacony. Not that he ever planned to return, oh heavens no, but it was a little something to think about.
And apparently March had decided it was the perfect opportunity to take a picture, as he was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a camera click. Which of course made him freeze.
“March…” Sunday mumbled, moving to look at her, red already spreading across his face. He didn’t enjoy pictures very much, but apparently March took pictures of absolutely everything.
“C’mon, you look pretty!” She grinned, showing the picture she took.
It showed Sunday focused on the imaginae, eyes focused yet gleaming with curiosity as he stared, clearly lost in thought. Oh Aeons, why did March love taking pictures?
Heat spread to the rest of his face, and his wings moved to cover it up, as a noise of embarrassment escaped him. “I’m not pretty,” Sunday mumbled, voice almost an octave higher than normal.
She huffed in response, “yes you are! This isn’t up for debate by the way.” Moving to wrap her arms around him. “Even Cae and Dan Heng think so too! Don’t think I haven’t noticed Caelus staring at you like you’re an Aeon when you’re doing something as basic as reading.” She giggled.
Which only made another flustered noise leave Sunday as his wings fluffed up even further from embarrassment. “Stop,” Sunday mumbled, voice very close to being whiny. Not that he cared very much anymore. It had embarrassed him at first. Now he trusted his partners enough to let them see him like that. It felt more liberating than he’d ever admit to himself.
“You don’t want me to, anyways.”
March grinned, hands slowly reaching to move Sunday’s wings from his face, but she still gave him ample time to move away if he wished to.
Sunday didn’t move away.
When March moved Sunday’s wings, she was greeted by gleaming eyes and a face still burning bright red with embarrassment.
Her hands then moved from his wings to instead cup Sunday’s cheeks. “...Can I kiss you?” She asked, a small smile on her face.
Sunday paused for only a moment before he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.
And he didn’t think he would ever get over the feeling he got when he kissed his partners. The warmth that always spread through him when he did it. But with March, it was different. Her lips were soft yet slightly chapped. Her hands were always cold yet always felt so gentle and kind. He didn’t think he would ever get used to it.
“...Maybe we could take one picture.” Sunday said with a quiet laugh as they broke apart, his forehead resting on hers.
Of course, it made March’s eyes light up and she—with lightning speed—picked up her camera. “C’mere, c’mere,” she grinned, wrapping her arm around Sunday and holding up the camera.
“Smile!”
By the time they had made it back to the Express, Dan Heng and Caelus were talking on the floor of the Parlor Car, going over the events on the Tower. And when the pair looked up to see Sunday and March enter, both of them looked up immediately, smiling as they waved them over.
“Went out without us, Sunny?” Caelus teased.
March huffed in protest, “you both were emotionally sad.”
“Perhaps.” Sunday chuckled, but moved to sit down next to Dan Heng while March moved to sit down next to Caelus.
From there, the conversation quickly devolved into everything from how fighting Fulwish felt to debating what they thought of Silver Wolf in her LV. 999 mode.
And as he heard all their voices overlapping, Caelus claiming that Fulwish’s flowers seemed edible, and Dan Heng arguing that they were not in fact edible, while March giggled in the background.
And something warm settles in Sunday’s heart.
Maybe Sunday was still learning how to love. Maybe he was still learning he was loveable in the first place. But surrounded by his loving partners, a quietly horrifying thought entered his brain.
Maybe I am loved.