Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mirage. An optical phenomenon caused by light rays to produce a displaced object of objects or the sky. 

A fickle thing, caused by nature, to trick a person to see things which are not supposed to be there.

A love that Kugutsu thinks is too good to be true, but one that he believes in wholeheartedly.

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He knew it was going to happen eventually.

The inevitable was a term foreign to him for the longest time; it never occurred to him that he would associate that word with something that would happen in his life. He figured that he could change what would happen in the future, that fate will not take a hold on him.

Yet that day proved him wrong, over and over and over again.

He saw Mirage, suspended in air, in the cage he helped build, in her final moments. If she had a life, he would witness the fear in her eyes, the face of shock and betrayal. He would hear a voice, a voice laced with sadness and anger and defeat as one sentence played over and over in his mind: Creator, why would you do this?

Gasps and noise filled the venue, with people staring at Mirage with awe and admiration. He even heard some of the people whisper about how on earth she got up there. On the other side of the venue, Richie Money and Koma are together, talking about the performance, and the cool trick that’s about to unfold.

He sighed. If only they knew.

He saw Kieru near him, looking up at Mirage, probably muttering some things related to the trick. He seemed like he’s sure of how the trick will go, and how it will turn out in the end, and oh how he wanted to tell him everything, to warn him of the inevitable. He could only stare at him as he muttered and muttered and muttered about things that would never happen.

Then the curtains went down. Kieru cursed under his breath.

His perfect plan was going to come to fruition in a moment’s time, and all he wanted to do was weep and cry.

Kieru was still muttering about saving them both and all that-- my boy, there’s no use, you’ll break your heart!-- but he could only look at him with sadness. Useless technicalities and hopes of saving both Mirage and Lucianne fell from his lips, a prayer to the non-existent gods that he would be able to save them both.

Then he suddenly bolted out of the venue and towards the tower.

He probably knew by now, right?

He looked up at the tower again. No emotions were evident in his face except for one of resignation. He probably escaped the tower with Lucianne in tow, going to wherever his mind wants to take him.

“I have a plan to get Lucianne,” he said.

Kugutsu widened his eyes. “A-a plan? How are you going to do that?”

He chuckled. “Kieru’s still going to do the trick, right? With Mirage and Lucianne? That’s my time to strike. I can swoop in, get Lucianne, disappear into the night.”

“E-excuse me? Disappear into the night?”

Kugutsu looked appalled. He’s going to disappear? What if he meant that he would disappear forever? Why--he promised every day, every night that he wouldn’t leave him, that he would stay, and now--

He caressed Kugutsu’s face with a sad smile on his. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back. I promise.”

He kissed him, and Kugutsu realized that this might be the last kiss that they will ever share.

Just then, he heard the sound of something falling. It hit the stage, and Kugutsu forced everything in him to look away--he couldn’t handle what he would see once he opened his eyes.

Yet he did.

And he saw Mirage’s broken form onstage. 

Parts of her scattered in different places across the stage, and her main body lay in the center, broken beyond repair. She was still smiling. She was still her bright, happy self. But she called out to Kugutsu’s soul, to save her, because she’s broken, broken, broken--Father, help me, I cannot get up, I cannot stay like this, save me, save me--

I am sorry, Mirage. I have to let you go.

Kieru dropped down to the ground beside him, looking absolutely devastated. To think the person you idolize and loved for years on end would go out like that--he knew that feeling all too well.  He kept on whispering his disbelief, that this is not true, this is not true, this is not true--

He decided to walk over to him. His adopted son.

“Lucianne . . . so I didn’t make it in time . . .” he lamented.

“Kugutsu?”

“You ended up sacrificing yourself . . . sorry, Mirage.”

Kieru had a confused look on his face. “What do you mean by that?”

Kugutsu faced him. There were tears in his eyes. “I have already realised that Peten and the Phantom Thief are one from the first incident; but I never thought we would find his great-grandfather’s work in Mr Money’s collection.”

“Kugutsu, what did you do to Mirage?”

“I was the one who originally made Mirage. When I was studying under Peten’s father as an apprentice, he asked me to create a doll to be used in shows. But an escape show left a heavy burden on the doll, and it got to the point that I had to retire it.

“That’s the truth behind Mirage’s disappearance.

“Peten asked me to repair it so it can endure just one more show . . . there’s nothing I can do. I didn’t want him to sin anymore. I’m sorry, Kieru, I’m sorry . . .”

“N-no, I was . . .”

Kugutsu forced a smile. “Thank you. For loving Mirage.”

Kieru cried in front of him, and he felt his heart break. He wished to not let the boy suffer more, but what else could he do? He merely gave him a hug, to show that he’s there, and that he’ll keep supporting him in his career.

Then he walked home.

He half-expected Peten to not be in his home, and sure enough, he wasn’t. The only thing that’s left of him were their pictures--moments of them laughing their hearts out, without a care in the world, frozen in time.

He took a photo, stared at it, then broke down into tears.

If I had known it would've come to this, I wouldn't have befriended you and loved you for all those years.

Then I wouldn't have this sickening feeling in my chest—

Chapter Text

In Kugutsu’s dreams, they see each other.

Peten’s head is propped up with his hands as he watches Kugutsu do his job, carving dolls to life with every precise stroke of his hands. It is a hypnotizing sight for Peten, and he finds himself not looking away, admiring every single stroke.

Of course, Kugutsu is too concentrated on his work to even notice.

No words come out of their mouth, just the quiet scraping of metal against wood and the soft tunes of the music box they made. It’s like ASMR, dollmaker and his magician boyfriend (is Peten his boyfriend?) version. But of course, eventually, the silence will be broken at some point, this time by Peten’s pining sigh.

Kugutsu looks up. “Peten?”

Peten blinks. One, two. “I’m here, yes.”

“What was that sigh for?”

Should Peten tell him that it was because he’s hopelessly pining over him? Absolutely not. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Kugutsu shrugs and goes back to his work, but not before stealing one glance at Peten. At the same time, Peten looks back at him (my dear readers, you know what’s going to happen, right?) and the two lock eyes for a solid sixty seconds.

Sixty seconds. For them, it feels like forever. But Peten smiled--just for a little bit--and all of a sudden, that sixty seconds is all worth it in the end.

He wishes he could stay like this forever.

Oh, Somnus, you fickle, fickle god.

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Kugutsu wakes up with a jolt.

He pants, desperately blinking to ground himself. That dream--that dream with Peten, and him smiling--it feels too real, yet too good to be true. Peten will never do something like that in real life, or at least that’s what Kugutsu thinks. (Maybe he will do something like that in real life, who knows.) That smile--oh, that dazzling smile, worthy of the gods--he wants to see that so bad in real life. He wants to hold him forever.

He misses him. He misses him a lot. He wants to see him again, maybe slap him and hit him a few times as retaliation for leaving him and his son, then kiss him, deeply and passionately, until they both cannot breathe. He wants to tell him how much he misses him, how much he loves him, how he’s been counting the days to his return.

Oh, how he wishes to do all of these.

He feels wetness on his face and raises a hand to feel it. They’re tears , he thought, reaching out to find the nearest thing to wipe it all off. And as he places it near his eyes . . . oh.

It smells familiar . . . 

It smells of late nights, overnight stays, and comforting hugs. 

It smells like home.

Kugutsu breaks down again.

If Peten were to see him, how would he react? Would he reach out, take Kugutsu in his arms, and hug him tight? Would he whisper reassurances into his ear, over and over and over again until the sun sets? Most importantly . . . would Kugutsu believe him again, after everything he said proven to be all lies because of that one night? Would he ever believe him, after he’s proven to not stay true to his words?

How long will he be gone for, anyways? A week? Two weeks? A month? A year? Will he still love him then, even after such time has passed? Would he still think--and forgive me for being cheesy and basic--that he’s still the one for him?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know and he will never know. All he knows is that he will either come back or he won’t at all, and it would probably be all his fault.

It’s 8:45 in the morning. Fuck. He still has to meet up with Kieru, Koma and Mr Money. Does he have the motivation to get up and get ready? No. Does he have the energy to talk to people as of the moment? Absolutely not. But does he have to do this? Yes. He can’t let anyone know there’s anything wrong with him, or that he wishes to just stay at home and cry.

He haphazardly puts on his outfit and leaves the house.

-----------------------

 It’s raining today.

All the shops have closed or are selling limited crafts because of the weather and the lack of customers, and there’s a significant lack of street performers and honkers, advertising some kind of show or play. His city is known for its lively atmosphere, but today, the rain seems to have dampened the mood. Kind of fitting, really. His mood isn’t great as of the moment.

All he sees are gray, gray, gray, and it mirrors his soul so much he might have to ask the world to stop kinning him.

. . .

It still hasn’t sunk in fully that he’s gone. 

Perhaps he has gotten too used to his presence--he came over to his place a lot of times that a day wouldn’t be complete without him just staring at Kugutsu whenever he’s nose-deep in one of his projects. Sometimes he would sleep over, and he’d let him take his bed while he sleeps on the floor,  but Peten would insist that he sleep on the bed with him. Kugutsu would refuse with a bright blush on his face, shaking his head violently, but Peten would pull out his secret weapon and moments later Peten would be hugging Kugutsu from behind, nuzzling his face into his neck.

It was always comforting to sleep with Peten by his side. For a while all of his nightmares would stop coming, and all he would dream about was a home with Peten, where they could be happy. Forever, if fate would allow it.

. . .

He checks his pocket watch. There’s still half an hour. Perhaps he can grab a quick bite.

There’s an eatery Kugutsu and Peten go to whenever they want to eat out for breakfast, and they go there so often that the owner always has a reserved seat for them. Today, though, there won’t be someone sitting in front of him. His mood dampens again.

The owner greets him as soon as he opens the door. “Good morning, Kugutsu! What can I get you--where’s Peten?”

. . . How can he answer that? Can he just tell the owner the truth? 

“I’ll just have the usual, please. Peten’s not here. He’s gone forever.”

He eats in silence.

-------------------

“I have decided to leave my collection to Koma’s care from now on,” Mr Marney says.

Kugutsu is listening to Mr Marney drone on about what he’ll do next with the dolls he has in his collection. Koma taking care of the dolls seems to be a good idea, especially because of his adamance to take care of the dolls like they’re sentient human beings. He seems to be a better caretaker than Mr Marney will ever be, anyway. (Don’t tell him he thought of that.)

“I feel like I’ve been too disrespectful by ignoring the history of my collections. I feel it in my body now. Those things are ephemeral. I should play my part in preserving their history,” he adds, realization dawning on his face.

“If Koma’s the one taking care of them, I’m sure the dolls will be happy,” Kugutsu says. “He takes care of them like they’re his adopted children.”

Koma chuckles, then makes an affirming noise. “Leave it to me!”

Kugutsu then turns to Kieru. “Kieru, what are you going to do from now on?”

He shrugs. “I’ll keep on working as a magician like I always do,” he replies. “I lost my manager so it will be a bit boring but . . .” He closes his eyes, puts his hand over his heart, and chuckles. “Mirage’s magic hasn’t disappeared, after all.”

Kugutsu sighs. His son is all grown up.

After further discussion, it is time for them to part, for it is getting late (Mr Marney’s definition of late is three in the afternoon) and Mr Marney still has a meeting with the other affluent people in the area. Before Kieru could fully leave his sight, though, Kugutsu stopped him by holding his wrist.

Kieru turns around. “Kugutsu?”

“Kieru,” Kugutsu begins. “Would you mind if I come over? I want to talk with you for a moment.”

Kieru merely shrugs. “Sure. I’ve got nothing better to do anyway.”

The walk to Kieru’s office was uneventful, the silence occasionally punctured by carriages and screaming people trying to sell their products. The rain has stopped minutes ago, and the sun peeks through the clouds, giving the city an eerie feel. It’s not fully alive, but it’s not fully dead, either.

You would use that to describe your love for Peten, right?

Kugutsu ignores the voice in his head.

They arrive at Kieru’s office, which is a one-storey establishment decorated from the outside by spirals and sparkles--most likely Peten’s design choice. The inside, though, screams Kieru--full of paintings and sculptures he commissioned from artists all around the city.

“Take a seat,” Kieru says, and goes behind his desk, maybe to look for something. Moments later, he gives Kugutsu pudding and a spoon. “This is all I got,” he explains. “I keep my pudding stash behind my desk for when Peten decides to steal mine, but since he’s gone and I cannot finish this on my own, I decided to give them to anyone who decides to stop by my office, whether it’s a customer or a friend.”

. . . 

He feels like he’s going to cry just by looking at the pudding he’s holding. Get it together, Kugutsu. You’re here to ask him something.

He takes a deep breath and looks at Kieru. “Kieru, who is Peten to you?”

Kieru looks at him in surprise, then answers. “Peten . . . he’s like a dad to me. He mentored me when I was still starting out on doing magic, and . . . supported me all the way. I even called him Dad sometimes just to spite him.” He chuckles. “Sometimes, he calls me his son too, and . . . for the first time in my life, since my parents died, I felt loved. I wouldn't trade him for the world. And when he disappeared, just like that . . . I felt betrayed, you know?

“He said he would stay by my side, as I grow and grow to be the magician I wanna be. With Mirage’s magic and his guidance, I felt like I could be the Kieru I wanted to be . . . but now he’s gone, and I . . . but I have to keep going. For him. So that he would be proud of me if ever he returns.

“I miss him, Kugutsu . . . I miss him . . .”

Kieru breaks down crying, and Kugutsu rushes over to hug him, cradling him in his arms. He can’t help but cry himself. “I miss him, too . . . he was my only companion when I was young, studying under Peten’s father . . . he would stay up with me whenever I have to pull up all-nighters just to finish a doll . . .

“He was there . . . for me . . . during those nights when I would hunch over my desk, not knowing what to make . . . when I would break down because I was so tired and I was so depressed . . . 

“He was there for me, too, during my happy days, when his father approved the dolls I made. He would go out of his way to celebrate my victories, which was very unlike him,” he chuckles through his tears. “I love him, Kieru . . . I really do.”

They stay like that, hugging each other tightly. It’s a comforting feeling, hugging someone while missing an important person in his life. Moments later, Kieru lets go, but not before asking Kugutsu something.

“Kugutsu . . . have you and Peten held hands?”

Kugutsu blinks in confusion. “Uhh . . . yes? I think?”

Kieru steps back in horror. “You shameless man! You held hands before proposing to him?”

“I don’t think that’s a prerequisite for holding hands!”

“Well, it is! As his son, I command you to go propose to him before holding hands!”

“How can I propose to him when he’s not here?”

Silence.

Chapter Text

Skilled hands engrave delicate patterns onto the wood, filling the workshop with sounds of wood scraping against metal.

Kugutsu is hunched over on his desk, carving a wooden doll for one of his clients. Despite everything that has happened, he still forces himself to still accept orders, to meet with clients, because everyone around him keeps on saying life moves on, despite you being stuck in whatever past you’re in. Nothing will ever bring back time, and you’re just a person hopelessly stuck in this universe where time always moves forward.

. . .

Will he be able to change anything if he gets to turn back time, though?

Will he be able to change Peten’s mind? Make him stay? Not make him commit the crimes that he did now? Will Peten remain by his side and not disappear like he did now? Will Peten continue to love this broken, love-starved person called Kugutsu?

 . . .

Maybe he won’t, right? He knows Peten all too well. He knows that he will do anything--anything--to make sure he completes everything he plans to the dot, and he will do whatever it takes to make sure nothing stands in his way. And yes, whatever. Even if he has to kill.

(He hasn’t killed anyone, don’t worry. I won’t let him kill.)

Kugutsu is completely powerless against him, powerless against his drive and persistence to get what he wants, powerless against his deceiving words and empty promises. He cannot do anything, no matter how he tries. Lucianne will always be in his hands, both him and Kieru will be emotionally broken after, and the world will still keep on spinning, round and round, and time will still tick, because it does not give a fuck about their feelings whatsoever.

. . .

He puts down the doll he’s currently carving. His inner monologue sapped the motivation out of him. He decides to lie down in his bed.

The dangling stars Peten made him are still up on the ceiling.

The chirping of the birds outside woke Kugutsu up from his slumber. It was still early in the morning, perhaps six, but he knew he would be busy fulfilling orders for the month.

Or at least, that was his plan.

He opened the curtains. The sky looked beautiful, with the sun painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. The air felt cold as well, since it’s early autumn, and the leaves have started to change color.

He looked back at his bed. Peten wasn’t sleeping with him, huh.

After a bath and a change of clothes, he headed out to the living room, where scraps of wood and string and cloth and a lot of his materials were strewn across the place. He made a mental note to clean them up sometime, and began wading through the mess, where he found . . . oh.

The most adorable thing to ever exist in this universe.

He spotted Peten sleeping amongst the mess, sleeping peacefully, drooling on the table. His lips were curled up into a smile, as if he accomplished something and he’s finally getting that much-needed rest. His head was laid on top of sheets of paper, perhaps drafts for a doll or a carving of some sort, and his hand was clenched tight, which sent a message to Kugutsu that there’s something, something, Peten’s been hiding from him. 

Well. He must be in deep sleep. Time to find out.

He slowly moved to where Peten is sleeping, careful not to wake up. He granted his hand the lightest of touches, before slowly applying force to his fingers so that he can open his hand. It was a struggle at first--what’s a task without a struggle, anyway?--but eventually he succeeded, and the hidden item finally revealed itself.

. . . 

A wooden ring? With his name on it?

“Mmm . . .” Peten stirred from his slumber. “Wh-what is it . . . oh, it’s morning . . .”

Kugutsu made a surprised squeak. “P-Peten! Why are you asleep here . . .?”

Peten rubbed his eyes to remove the sleep from them. “Oh. Well, I stayed up late to make something, but it appears someone has decided to open my hand to get some sort of ‘inside look’.”

He turned red. You got caught, Kugutsu. You’re fucked. “W-well, I was curious as to what is clenched in your hand! Why are you making a wooden ring with my name on it, anyway?”

He simply smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know, dollmaker boy?”

He smacked Peten’s head gently with a long piece of plywood randomly found on the floor. “I told you not to make that joke on me!”

He let out a laugh, and Kugutsu swore he heard angels sing to his ear.

He wished he could make him laugh forever . . .

“Kugutsu. Earth to Kugutsu? Hey, stop staring at the wall.”

Kugutsu blinks, one, two, three times. He’s back in his sorry excuse of a workshop, and is reminded that Peten is, of course, gone forever. He turns to the one who woke him up from his daydream. “Kieru, why are you here?”

Kieru hands him an envelope. “Here. Invitation to Nise’s masquerade party. You still remember her, right . . .?

“Nise goes by they/them, Kieru.” He sighs. “Yeah. I still remember them. When’s the party?”

“Tomorrow at midnight.”

“ Midnight? Do they expect us to down three shots of espresso and stay up all night doing ‘rich kid’ dances or something?”

He shrugs. “Oh. Nise’s father wants you to have this.” He hands Kugutsu a paper bag; it has one of Peten’s old suits. “Wear that to the party.”

You want me to wear what? “Peten’s old suit . . . okay, I’ll wear this. Now shoo. I have some work to do.” He stands up and pushes Kieru out of his place, despite his protests, and closes the door.

Nise’s masquerade party, huh.

He has met Nise before, and he knows their love for mystery and masked affairs--she has an extensive collection of masks in their closet, after all. For them to invite him to this kind of affair . . . they know what he’s going through, huh.

Perhaps a nice change of pace is necessary.

He takes a deep breath. He’s definitely going.

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The ballroom of the Uso family is, for lack of a better term, huge.

On the sides are all the tables for the families, arranged in order of affluence. In the front middle of the room is the table for the Uso family, which Kugutsu will sit on once dinner comes because of his deep connection to the family. Nise’s chair is at the center, adorned with lace and jewels and all things fancy. 

All of the affluent families in town gather for one of the most important events in the year, mostly to flex their collections, or to show to Nise’s father that their child is fit for Nise to marry. This year, especially, is the year that young suitors anticipate the most. 

Nise turns 21 this year, and is now eligible for marriage.

Kugutsu winces at the amount of sparkle that enters his eyes whenever he greets the families that attended today. His mask is making it hard to see as well, limiting his vision by so much he cannot recognise anyone from fifty feet away.

Oh, well. Time to move through this maze and not get recognized by anyone--

“Kugiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!”

Oh, fuck.

Nise, in all their masked glory, hugs Kugutsu from behind. “Kugie! Never thought you’d attend after the stunt my brother of mine did! I am so glad you’re here!”

“Haha, yeah, glad to be here . . .” He’s in an awkward position. A very awkward position. “Anyway, where’s the rest of your family?”

They shrug. “Father is still getting dressed, and Mother . . . helping out in the kitchen.”

“In her robe à la franglaise?”

“No, she’s wearing a robe a l’anglaise this time. In silk and velvet.”

His face scrunches up in disgust. “What the fuck?”

They just sigh. “You know Mother. She does not give a fuck about what she wants to wear. She just wants to help out in the kitchen in any way.”

“Haha.” He looks directly at Nise. “Well, I have no intention to dance tonight, so--”

BOOM.

The room immediately goes dark. Kugutsu’s senses heighten. “Nise, what is going on--what the fuck?” He’s slowly being pulled to the center by no one knows who, and he’s slooooowly panicking, then . . .

The pulling sensation stops. The lights turn red. He’s at the dead center of the room, and the red spotlight shines at him.

Oh, fuck. What is going on?

He looks around him and sees the partygoers stepping backwards to make a space in the center, all looking at him with sullen expressions in their faces. Their masks add a layer of mystery and creepiness to the room, which is what Nise would’ve imagined the party to be, and it’s slowly driving Kugutsu nuts. And as he slowly walks backwards . . .

He bumps into someone’s back. He gets startled and jumps back, coming face-to-face with . . . someone. Hidden in a mask full of jewels, probably painted with shades of black and blue. He can’t see their eyes, yet they still glitter under the spotlight, pulling him into a world he never dares to step foot in. And as they hold out their hand . . . Kugutsu looks at it, beckoning him to let go, then to the mystery person’s eyes. They’re like black holes, pulling him deeper and deeper . . .

He takes their hand, and they immediately pull him closer. Close enough to smell. To touch. To feel.

They slowly move him around the dance floor as soft waltz music plays, and for a moment, he thanks his dance teacher for pulling all-nighters just to teach him how to decently dance. He closes his eyes and feels the music pulling him around, feels them pulling him around the room, spinning him round and round, pulling him into a dip whenever the music gives him a chance to.

And as the music gets more intense, so does the waltz.

They move around the room even more, doing more exaggerated moves, their emotions in control this time. Kugutsu doesn’t know when he really let go like this, but for him, it’s a welcomed feeling. He feels free, in this moment, surrounded by mystery.

And for the final moment, he closes his eyes, they pull him closer and kiss him on the lips, and for a moment everything stops. A stranger, kissing him . . . But he immediately pulls away and Kugutsu loses the warmth of the stranger.

He opens his eyes as the lights turn on. He’s gone, but a letter mysteriously appears in his pocket. He takes it out, and his eyes immediately tear up.

He recognizes that handwriting anywhere.

Peten . . . ?

See you soon, my love.

- U.P.

He immediately rushes out of the ballroom. He needs to find him.

Chapter Text

The plan was simple.

He infiltrates their party, hopefully goes unnoticed, spies on the birthday celebrant, sees if they’re okay, then leaves. No dances of the sort. No social interactions. No gay dollmaker to actually notice he’s there.

Or at least, that’s what he thought when he entered Nise’s party hidden behind a heavily jeweled mask.

He looked around and saw people chatting, holding their champagne carelessly while they fooled with their companions. Some have whispered secrets to each other’s ears. Others decided to load up on macarons while the hosts weren’t there.

Yes. While the hosts weren’t there. Nise and their parents hadn’t arrived yet, so everyone took this as an excuse to fool around. To let go of their positions in society a bit, to do whatever they want to. Because that’s what everyone wants to do, right?

He walked around, greeting people without a noise as to not give himself away. He intended to approach Nise from a distance, see if they’re okay, when he sees him.

Kugutsu.

His heart stopped.

He should’ve expected him there--Kugutsu, after all, is a family friend of theirs--and he felt every single part of his plan breaking apart at the seams. He knew his heart would call out to him, that he would have to fight the urge to get close to him and hug him and say sorry for disappearing and--

Control yourself, P̷̛̱̻̪̦̱͍̝͈̓̀̈́̈́́̕̚͠͝ė̶̛̛̗̮̼̙̘̓̅̈́͌̊̏͛̎̎͐̔͘͜t̷͙̿͗̈̆̂̚e̴̘͖͈̿̽n̷̗̮̙̯̤̋͊̍͐̚. Control yourself. You have a plan to accomplish.

He bolted from the scene to the nearest secret room he knew would exist in the house and locked himself there. He needed to formulate a plan to carry out his objective and get close to him at the same time, or else he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.

Then it hit him.

As far as he knew, Nise was addicted to one scene from a show they wouldn’t stop bothering him with. He knew that scene had two people dancing under the light of what seemed to be a blood moon--or a lunar eclipse, as his old tutor would vehemently point out. Of course, lunar eclipses don’t exactly give out the red light Nise had hoped for, so he deduced they would get something similar--a red spotlight, perhaps.

And sure enough, as he temporarily stepped out of that secret room to take a glance at the ballroom, there was a spotlight hanging from the ceiling. And knowing Nise, they would probably push Kugutsu to the center, to finally lighten himself up after that . . . event.

He sighed. He should’ve done this in a different way, not in a way that would leave his beloved crying and yearning for him.

But it’s too late now, isn’t it?

But still, he promised to return. He promised to return to his side. He promised to kneel down, murmur apologies over and over again, and never leave his side. Just . . . not now. Not while he has a plan to fulfill.

He settled on writing Kugutsu a little note before he returned to the ballroom. Something to remember him by.

The long wait until the lights went off made him nervous, so when it finally happened, he knew what to do. He immediately rushed to the center of the room, waiting until the lights turned red. And once they did, he waited. And waited. And waited.

Somebody bumped into him, and he turned around. He saw him. He saw his light. He saw Kugutsu, hidden behind a jeweled mask as well. He couldn’t see him, but he could tell that he’s nervous, so he decided to hold out his hand for him to take.

And they did take it.

And now he pulls him into a waltz, under the red light.

Kugutsu . . . I am forever sorry for leaving you like that, for dragging you into this mess. I am sorry that I cannot meet you right now, that I cannot be by your side. I am sorry for deceiving you like that. I hope you can forgive me once we meet.

Kugutsu, I think of you every single hour of the day. I think of how you’re doing, how you’re adjusting, how you’re living on without me. It breaks my heart to see you cry, to see you suffer like this. I know I should come back one way or another, but . . . I have a plan to accomplish. And soon, my dear Kugutsu, soon . . . we’ll be together again.

My Kugutsu, I long for the day I get to wake up by your side. I long for the day that we finally dance under the moonlight, just like you wanted, just like I promised. I long for the day Hera blesses our marriage, and we get to stay with each other for the rest of our lives, bound to fate. I long for the day I get to kiss you, and hug you, and be there with you.

For now . . . this will suffice.

I love you, Kugutsu.

All of this remained unspoken, of course. He couldn’t risk breaking his cover. He couldn’t risk Kugutsu seeing him like this.

He couldn’t risk Kugutsu getting mad at him right now.

He continued to move him around the ballroom, releasing his emotions in every move he made. It was kind of cathartic, really, but he knew it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. That’s why he became sad when it all ended too fast and he had to stop moving around and he had to stop touching him because it’s all over and he can’t risk--

Again with the excuses, P̷̛̱̻̪̦̱͍̝͈̓̀̈́̈́́̕̚͠͝ė̶̛̛̗̮̼̙̘̓̅̈́͌̊̏͛̎̎͐̔͘͜t̷͙̿͗̈̆̂̚e̴̘͖͈̿̽n̷̗̮̙̯̤̋͊̍͐̚. Pathetic. All of them.

He swiftly kissed Kugutsu, like it’s the last time he would kiss him like this. His lips were soft, just like he remembered, and he wanted more. More, and more, and more, until he couldn’t take it anymore. But, once again, restraint. He had a job to do.

He had to wait.

He placed the note on Kugutsu’s pocket with his swift magician hands, then after one last look at him, he disappeared.

No one saw him after that.

Chapter Text

Run.

Run where your feet take you. Run where your heart leads you to.

Run like there’s no tomorrow. Run like this is your last chance of seeing him, alive and well.

Run to where he is. Never let him go.

Run.

His legs scream at him to rest, his lungs beg for him to slow down, take a breather, he’s going to fucking collapse—but his heart says otherwise.

He has to run. As fast as he can. If he wants to catch up to Peten, that motherfucker, then he has to run.

Despite complaints made by the townsfolks as he pushes them away and overturns their stalls (he does feel kind of sorry for the wasted pomegranates, though), he pays them no mind as he continues his pursuit, desperate to finally catch Peten and never let him go. He runs through alleyways, kicks unsuspecting passersby out of the way, and finally manages to leave the bustling noise behind. But, oh boy, his legs are weak, and he’s forced to finally halt to a stop at the cliff well outside the city.     

. . . The moon is beautiful tonight.

He lies down near the edge of the cliff and watches the stars twinkle before his very eyes. He faintly remembers Peten as a kid forcing him to take him out to this very cliff to stargaze, and Kugutsu rolling his eyes and agreeing nonetheless.

It was a good memory.

"Kugutsu! Kugutsu, come oooooooooooooon!”

Peten tugged at the young Kugutsu’s arm, face lighting up with wonder and excitement. Beautiful. “Come on, you have to take me to this cliff!”

Kugutsu groaned. “Uso Peten, you know how angry your mom gets when she sees you sneaking outside at night! I can’t risk losing my apprenticeship!” Peten’s mom is like the Devil when she’s angry; he witnessed Nise getting berated multiple times for refusing to wear a tiara, and Liam when he kept on going out to gamble in the next town over. (Not gonna lie, that was well-deserved; he didn’t even win once.)

"I won’t tell anybody, I promise! I know my way around this mansion. Pleeeeeeeeease?”

Cue the doe eyes. Or at least, an attempt at them, since Peten is woefully narrow-eyed. Ah yes, Kugutsu’s weakness. They both knew about it, Peten was trying to exploit it, and Kugutsu, unfortunately, is weak to it. Go figure. (He miiiight have a little crush on Peten. But don’t tell anyone. Or else he’ll cry.)  He finally relented. “Okay, fine. But you gotta buy me a new sketchpad tomorrow. The good kind.”

He pulled Kugutsu in for a hug. “Thank youuuuu! Now, let’s go! I know my way out!” Cue a blush from Kugutsu as he led him through bushes and secret tunnels Kugutsu never knew existed—how many were there, anyway?—until they were finally out of the mansion grounds and into the forest beside it.

. . .

The forest was creepy as hell.

Owls hooted all over the place, cicadas sang their nightly tunes, and the moon shone above them with such a creepy aura that Peten even shuddered from it all. Kugutsu knew that this was the way to the stargazing place but . . . he never thought it would be this creepy at night.

It was still beautiful, though. He was not going to lie. He could get some inspiration off of this. Perhaps another doll of some sorts . . .?

Okay. He’s getting too ahead of himself. Moving on.

After a long walk of navigating through mazes of trees, narrowly avoiding a wolf, and running from random snatchers in the forest, they finally reached their destination. It was a cliff overlooking their beach, illuminated by the moonlight. No sound was heard except for the occasional breeze and the waves crashing onto the shore. They were so far away from the city that they could see the constellations and their multitudes of stars shining above, a sight to behold for Peten’s eyes.

Kugutsu saw them shining in the starlight. His heart raced. He’s too beautiful, too captivating, too mesmerizing—

“Kugutsu?” Peten asked, looking at him with those star-filled eyes. Kugutsu forgot to breathe for a moment. “Will you take me here more often?”

His brain said No, no, your mom will destroy me and I will never get to see you again, I will never get to see your beautiful face, I will never get to hold you and see you like this, yet all he said was one word: Sure.

“Sure. I’ll take you whenever you feel like it.”

He smiled brightly and looked at the stars again. “They’re so beautiful, Kugutsu . . . they remind me of the jewelry Mom always used at parties, but less artificial, you know? Someday I wanna go there and explore . . . but for now, I’ll just stay here. With you.”

With you.

Cue internal squealing.

Kugutsu laughs from the memory, then sighs.

The city has changed, with more and more lights added to the growing population of artificial lights . . . but the cliff never changed. The stars were still shining brightly, the moon still has that same shine that he came to love all those years ago.

. . . He wishes he could find him again.

He was definitely there, at the party, dancing with him, twirling him around, kissing him—he still can’t believe that guy still had the audacity to kiss him like that, after everything he has done. He takes out the letter that still had his scent, and reads it again.

See you soon.

See you soon.

See you soon . . .?

What does he mean by that?

Does he have some sort of unfinished business that he has to take care of before they can be together again? Is he working for some sort of spy organization or something? What is he hiding?

There are many questions in his head right now, but first, the wind. It’s gentle. It’s cool. He feels like he could sleep here . . .

Good night, Kugutsu. Sweet dreams.

“Kugutsu. Kugutsu. Are you there?”

Kugutsu squints from the bright light shining on him, then uses his hand to shield his eyes while he blinks them open. It is a flashlight, shining on him directly, and he groans. “Ugh, what is it now . . .?”

“Mr Kugutsu, what are you doing outside in this hour? It’s almost four in the morning?” A voice says. Probably Detective Kanetsugu’s , he thinks.

“Mmm . . . I think I fell asleep . . .?” He rubs his eyes and looks around. It’s still the same old cliff, yet the moon is not there anymore. The Milky Way looks so beautiful . . . 

“Mr Sugu’s worried about you, you know. He’s in your workshop pacing back and forth, I bet,” said the detective as he moved the beam elsewhere for the sake of the poor guy. “You suddenly disappeared from the party. Why is that?”

Can he tell him? Everything’s really complicated, and it would be hard to explain to an outsider . . . and even if he tells the Detective, can he do anything to find Peten? “I am afraid I cannot tell you the details, Detective Kanetsugu,” he replies instead. “It’s . . . quite complicated.”

“Ah, it’s okay if you don’t tell me,” he says with a chuckle. “Let’s get you home.”

He stands up and takes one last look at the cliff. He’ll come back to this place more often, he guesses.

“Mmm . . . home.”

. . . 

“Kugutsu, where the fuck did you go?”

He’s currently hiding behind the kitchen counter as Kieru bombards him with question after question. He’s scared, folks. “You disappeared all of a sudden! Even Nise was worried sick for you!”

“I’m sorry, Kieru--”

“Where did you go, huh? Were you going to leave me too? Were you?”

“Kieru, let me explain--”

“Explaining isn't going to do it, Kugutsu! I suffered when Mirage was gone, I suffered when Peten disappeared, and now you--”

“I saw Peten, okay?”

Silence.

“ . . . What?”

Chapter Text

“Wait, what?”

Okay, how will Kugutsu explain this. I met your dad during the ball, we danced, he kissed me (and I kinda like it) and left! Is that an appropriate explanation? Or does he need more context as to what happened? It’s obvious that he’s still finding ways how to explain to Kieru everything, merely by the way he paces himself in front of him, wringing his hands as his face showed the tell-tale signs of thinking too much.

Can he even reveal the letter to Kieru? He’s worried that the kid will abandon his job as a magician and go through lengths just to find him, when it should’ve been Kugutsu’s job as Peten’s best friend (he’s just a friend, he’s just a friend, even though you’re clearly simping for him he’s just your friend) . He doesn’t want the kid to suffer more than what he’s already been experiencing.

So he doesn’t mention the letter to him. “Well . . . I danced with him. During the ball. And he kissed me.”

“He did WHAT?” Kieru’s eyes go wide. It’s not like Peten to kiss anyone, even during a ball, even in incognito mode. Isn’t this supposed to be sacrilegious? “Okay, let me get this straight. So you’re the one who danced in the center, and Peten--or the person whom you claim to be Peten--kissed you?”

Kugutsu can only nod because of the absurdity of the situation. He lets out an awkward laugh. “That’s pretty much what happened . . . and I am very certain that it’s Peten whom I was dancing with. His vibes just scream Peten.”

Kieru merely eyes Kugutsu. Hard. He doesn’t fully believe the guy, but it’s not impossible for Peten to do this, either. Wait, he read about this somewhere . . . “He was masked like the others, correct?”

“Um . . . yes?”

He sighs. “He’s . . .  really getting into his role as the Phantom Thief, huh. I just hope that he doesn’t terrorize the city or something.”

Kugutsu lets out a sigh of his own and walks towards the city again. 

He doesn’t know what Peten wants, he doesn’t know what he really desires to achieve . . . he never shared everything when he told Kugutsu about his plan. All he knows is that he’s going to cause chaos, that he’s going to possibly turn everything upside down. And that can spell trouble for both Peten and Kugutsu, as well as the entire city.

Whatever it is, he needs to get to the bottom of this.

As he walks towards his home, his mind races with the thought of Peten actually turning the city upside down. He imagines him in the plaza, causing chaos everywhere with his magic, setting fire to houses and buildings, turning over tables and flipping off government officials while he just stands there, attempting to cease the chaos . . . 

“This city shall burn down, along with the people in it!”

His heartbeat speeds up, and his breathing turns shallow. Breathe, Kugutsu. He won’t do something as rash as burning the city down.

Breathe in, breathe out. He walks on.

The amount of unfinished work he still has greets him as he enters his workspace slash home.

Of course. He’s still Kugutsu, the revered dollmaker, and there are people needing his service. He checks the invoices--around 10 orders left, all due within the month--and most of them were from the affluent districts of the city, so it’s expected that the work he produces must meet the highest standards set in his craft, and must appeal to the patron’s eye as well. It all basically means that he has a lot of work to do before he can commit to finding Peten.

And so he decides to block everything out and concentrate on making sketches for the dolls, giving each doll’s design the utmost delicacy he can muster given his . . . mental situation. All night he slowly gives each doll the first step to life, adding depth and color when needed, adding glitter and stars to the dolls destined to glimmer under the moonlight.

If one were to sit with him in this very moment, they would find watching him rather hypnotizing, and therapeutic to some extent. The way his hand would illuminate specks of life is indeed a sight to behold.

And that’s what that person is thinking as of the moment, he who watches the dollmaker from outside the window.

He watches Kugutsu sketch and color, sigh and lean back. Peten feels his heart grow heavy from sadness and longing, the heart that yearns to hold him and touch him, but can’t.

What’s stopping him? What’s stopping his poor heart from holding him again, wrapping him in his arms? What’s stopping him from begging his love for forgiveness? Is it the fear that grows everyday, eating his soul from the inside? Is it the intrusive thought he had since day one that Kugutsu will never forgive him for what he has done? Or is it because he is a coward, opting to just get the job done and die than face him?

He cannot look at him anymore; his eyes are full of tears. He once again runs into the moonlit night, and Kugutsu notices him as a mere rustle of the leaves, nothing more.

He sighs again and checks his clock. Almost midnight. Surely he can stay up for long . . . just one more sketch.

He picks up the pencil once more and checks the invoice. This time it’s from Nise, from two weeks ago. A doll of their brother, huh. So that they can tease him with it everyday.

He doesn’t notice the sole teardrop falling until he spots the wet splotch on his sketchbook. He wipes his eyes vigorously, attempting to stop his tears. No time for emotions, Kugutsu. He musters all his strength and picks up the pencil to sketch him, even though every stroke of his pencil is akin to a stab to his own heart.

He can’t see him. He can’t hold him. His muse is gone, and all he has is a memory of him. A memory only his hands hold.

Distance yourself, Kugutsu. Let your hands puppet you once more. Don’t think 0f anything else, just succumb . . . 

He wakes up on his work table, back hurting and arms sore. 

He winces in pain as he attempts to stretch--clearly sleeping on the table has its disadvantages. As he makes a mental note not to do that again, he looks at his workstation, only to find Peten’s sketch slightly crumpled.

He immediately attempts to smooth it out. He can’t crumple a drawing of him. Ever.

He arranges all his sketches and places them on a folder along with the invoices, and places said folder in a cabinet, determined not to touch them until later in the afternoon. Right now, he’s going to construct the yet-finished music box, which was supposed to be a gift to Peten on his birthday in three months.

 . . . Three months. Will he be able to find him in three months? Three months is either too long of a timespan or too short, but Kugutsu doesn’t exactly know. Peten might. Peten has the brain to estimate timespans. Kugutsu doesn’t.

Kugutsu never had the capacity to determine how long till he returns, because for him, it has been too long.

The paper he sketches on became a canvas--and a testament--to his longing, as seen in the drafts for the music box. The sides are imprinted with his and Peten’s constellations, dotted as well with stars and planets. The top, however, is different. It holds a heart in it, decorated with more stars and flowers, with both their initials inside the heart.

A touching gesture, if anyone were to actually look at it.

Kugutsu wastes no time in perfecting his designs. Every single element must be perfect, or else it’ll ruin the image altogether. Every single star, every single flower, every single line must be where they need to be, lest it will not be worthy of Peten’s eyes.

He will do anything. Sacrifice anything. Just so he will know how much Kugutsu loves him, and just how much he cares for him, and just how much he means to him. His mind may not run in poetry and prose, but his mind does run in scenes and backdrops, in fantasies and worlds. As he draws, he escapes to his mind, to a world where they are together and inseparable. To a world where Peten holds him tightly, as tight as he possibly can, and never lets go.

He wishes for that world. Every single day. If he has to perform the childish act of tossing a coin into a well, then so be it--anything to make his wish come true. He will wish on a shooting star. He will write multiple pages, all with the wish to have him by his side.

He manifests the world he imagines in his drawings, a world where they’re happy. A world where he’s happy. A world where nothing can touch him except for Peten, and where they live happily ever after, like how fairytales are supposed to go.

Your life isn’t a fairytale, Kugutsu, a part of his mind says. It’s hell, and it’s supposed to be burning, and it’s supposed to be burning you to ashes.

Stop, comes the adamant reply. I will make my own fairytale. You cannot puppet me anymore. Not this time.

Suit yourself, then. And the voice goes quiet once more.

He keeps on sketching until mid-afternoon, when a knock on the door broke his reverie. “Kugutsu? Kugutsu, are you there?”

He recognizes the voice. It’s Kieru. “Kieru, come in.”

The magician does exactly that and sits beside Kugutsu. “What are you up to? I suppose you’re sketching some stuff for clients?”

“Yeah, I did some sketching.” He looks back to the sketch he has. “This is . . . different.”

“What do you mean, different?”

He cannot tell Kieru. Again. He flips over the drawing. “. . . Nothing. Why are you here?”

Gold meets purple as Kieru speaks. “Actually, I was thinking we could go out for dinner. You still know Inhyung, right? The exchange student?”

Ah, yes. One of the prodigies during his time in school. “. . . Yeah. Wait, you got in contact with him?”

“His family is one of my clients, and he wants to meet you again, apparently. You know, to catch up and all.”

“Huh. And I thought he hated my guts back then.” He stands up. “Wait for me, Kieru. I will go get ready.”

“Kugutsu, my man! You look more tired than usual!”

The man named Inhyung waves at them from the tavern. His hair flutters in the evening wind, donned by multiple bows and hair ties. (Huh. Did his aesthetic change for some reason?) “Still gay as usual, I presume?”

“I am forever gay, Inhyung,” he says as he takes a seat besides him. “How about you? Found someone yet?”

Inhyung’s cheeks are tinged with light pink, and Kugutsu notices that. Ah. “Yeah . . . I’m kind of engaged, actually.”

“Engaged? To who?” Now Kieru’s curious. He puts his elbows on the table and his head on his hands. 

Inhyung’s cheeks turn redder. “Remember that guy from the Dressmaking Club?” Kugutsu nods. “Yeah . . . he proposed to me last month. We’re going to get married by January.”

Kugutsu’s boisterous laugh echoes across the tavern. “Damn, Inhyung. Landing a fine man? Every single gay’s dream, really.”

“Can confirm,” the person sitting at a table near them says. “I’ve been gay all my life and yet no one wanted to be with me.”

“Same here,” another confirms. “When will a woman sweep me off my feet . . .?”

“Is everyone in this tavern gay?” Inhyung’s question is met with a resounding “YES.” He chuckles. “Hehe, you guys will find someone soon, I promise.” He turns to Kugutsu. “What about you, darling? Anyone caught your fancy yet?”

He turns silent. “It’s . . . complicated.” Their table goes silent for a moment, a heavy air weighing down on the three. That is, until someone bursts into the tavern. “Kugutsu! Kieru!”

Kugutsu immediately stands up and faces the person. A maid from the Uso mansion . . .? They look panicked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nise!”

“What about them?” Oh boy. Fear courses through his veins.

“They’re gone!”

The whole tavern goes silent.

Chapter Text

“Excuse me, what? ”

The maid pants from exertion--they’re clearly not used to running this far-- and looks at him with tired, pleading eyes. “They’re gone, Master Kugutsu. They didn’t leave a note or told Master and Mistress Uso about their whereabouts--and the last time I saw them, they were still in their bed . . .” she explains. “The police are searching for them as of the moment, but so far . . . no leads of any sort.”

“What about Master and Mistress Uso? Are they doing okay?” Kieru asks.

“Uh . . . the master seems fine, unfazed even . . . but the mistress is shaken to the core. She’s currently crying in his arms as we speak.”

“Oh, no . . .” Kieru says, burying his head in his hands. “Can you take us to them? Maybe we can help.”

The maid immediately nods. “The carriage is outside. Right this way, sirs.” The maid hurried outside, and the pair quickly said their goodbyes to their drinking buddy before going outside and boarding the carriage. The maid pays the driver extra for speed, and the group hurries off to the Uso mansion.

The way to the mansion might be silent, save for the clacking of hooves against pavement, but Kugutsu’s mind is the opposite. Every single nerve in his brain screamed with ideas and intrusive thoughts about the entire ordeal. If Nise’s kidnapping somehow involves Peten . . . if Peten’s plans involve doing something irreversible . . .

Will he be able to forgive him, somehow?

Just then, he feels warmth enveloping his hand, pulling him free from his thoughts for a moment. He sees Kieru with a worried gaze, full of fear yet kindness. And in that moment, Kugutsu thinks, he thanks Kieru for keeping him sane.

“We’ll find them, Dad,” Kieru says. “Nise and Papa. We’ll bring them home.”

“Kugutsu, my son! Help us!”

Master Uso knelt before him, clasping his hands dramatically. “Our precious princess has been taken from us!”

“You know that Nise doesn’t like to be called princess, right?” Kugutsu sighs. “Anyways. She’s last seen in her room, right?”

“Yes, Master Kugutsu,” the head maid confirms. “I last saw her writing a letter to her pen pal overseas.”

“Then we’ll start the search there,” Kieru says.

Nise’s room is full of writing materials, journals handmade by artisans, and pens made to perfection. On one side of the room is Kugutsu’s doll--made for them for their 14th birthday--and Peten’s miniature version sitting in its lap. He smiles, then shakes his head. There’s still something that they need to do.

Kugutsu, Kieru and the maid basically turn Nise’s room upside down-- looking under the mattress, opening cabinets and drawers. As Kugutsu searches near the window, he spots a letter. He opens it, and all of a sudden he feels the urge to run. He alerts the maids and Kieru, saying that he has somewhere to go, before running out of the room and the mansion.

It has to be him. It has to be. He took Nise. He took his own sibling.

Meet me in the forest, Kugutsu.

You know who I am.