Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, many years ago, there was a little princess, and she was very sad for her mother and father had died.

Before the despaired princess came a travelling prince clad in a white cloak as soft as an angel’s wings. He had a regal bearing, and a kind smile. The prince wrapped the princess in a rose-scented embrace and gently wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Little one who bears up alone in such deep sorrow. Even if you’re in darkness now, the ticket in your hand is just waiting to be filled in. Don’t ever let go of that strength or nobility.

“I give you this to remember this day. This ring will lead you to me one day.”

Perhaps the ring he gave was one of engagement.

This was all well and good, but so impressed she was by him that the princess vowed to become a prince herself one day.

But was that really such a good idea?

Throughout her life, Meryl Stryfe was a missus on a mission. She studied hard to maintain straight As, applied for every writing competition that reached her ears, shed blood, sweat and tears to excel in track and burnt galloons of midnight oil to earn a scholarship to Julai Academy. The school is an academic kingdom that’s as prestigious as it is competitive but she earns her place as top of her class and strives to stay there.

She works hard, lives hard and she makes sure to do it in style.

Indeed, students couldn’t help but gawk as the petite girl made her way through the compound. Her short dark hair was neatly combed under her cap, her white blazer and blue shorts ironed smooth as paper and her polished shoes echoing in brisk staccato.

“Meryl Stryfe. Do you intend to wear that unacceptable getup for this term as well?” the disciplinarian, Chuck Lee's strident voice sneered, pointer primed like a sword.

‘Not today, Satan.’ Meryl fought back a smirk, having prepared for his frankly predictable move.

Whipping out the rulebook, she opened to the section that dictated the school’s dress code.

“But no rules in the rulebook states that a girl cannot wear a boy’s uniform.” She had even kindly highlighted the sections for him. “So, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

‘Unless you make it one.’ Went unsaid but not unheard. The man looked as if he’s sucked on not one but two lemons as Meryl once again made a fool of him. Meryl 2, Chuck Lee 0.

She arrived to class on time, wherein her best friend Milly enveloped her in the first of many bone-crushing hugs for the day. She excitedly gushes about the new novels she’s been reading and Meryl is thankful that she doesn’t divulge too many details about those in the horror genre. Eventually, their homeroom teacher Roberto De Niro arrives and classes begin.

Meryl has a solid routine by now. Go to class, take neat notes with her favourite blue pen no matter how monotonous the teacher or the subject was and then compare said notes with Milly’s glitter-pen ones during recess. Milly graciously gives Meryl a treasured pudding cup and she in turn provides napkins whenever the brunette needs one.

If there’s still time to kill, they hit the basketball court. Milly’s height and strength combined with Meryl’s speed and agility makes them an unstoppable duo. Ignoring the boys who leered whenever their shirts rode up mid-dunk, Meryl gratefully accepts the towels offered by the juniors (she doesn’t mind sweating but she also wouldn’t mind not staying sweaty) and blushes under their praise.

“You really should join the team, Meryl.” Milly pouted as Meryl buttoned up her blazer.

“Sorry, Milly, but I really wouldn’t have time for the competitions. Besides, I don’t want to be a titan, I want to be a prince!” Meryl straightened her collar.

“Yes, yes, a noble prince who saves the princesses.....but what about paupers like me?!” Milly whined, clinging onto Meryl like a giant koala. “How could you forsake meeeeeee?”

“Milly!” Meryl squawked, the tinier girl somehow miraculously remaining upright. Honestly at this point, Milly’s glomps have turned her knees to steel.

“Paupers need a prince too, y’know. Besides, aren’t nobles supposed to help those below them?” Milly pointed out.

“Of course. Don’t worry, Milly, you’ll always be my best friend and first princess.” Meryl consoled, patting her hand.

Milly beamed and really, her cheerful spirit alone outshone any tiara or jewel an actual princess could own.

They return to classes, write more notes, get more homework until finally, the bell rings and students file out, eager to head home, prepare for extracurriculars or hang out with their friends.

Meryl and Milly live in separate dorms, a fact that the latter bemoans about to this day. Meryl admits it can be a little lonely too but hey, a single dorm means no messy roommate or unnecessary distractions. Still, it’s tradition for both girls to walk together until they have to separate.

This time, they decided to take a shortcut through the colonnade. Midway, Meryl paused at an unexpected sight in her peripheral.

She’s walked pass this courtyard countless times and though anyone can spot the greenhouse built there upon first glance, no one’s bothered to truly look at the beautiful glass structure. And like most beautiful things, many often forget that such beauty requires human maintenance.

The human maintenance in question was a male student. The first thing Meryl notices is his height. Oh sure, it’s easy to blow off Meryl’s opinion given her short stature that made even those of average height a tower but her best friend was Milly-5’10 ft-Thompson.

While Milly stood big like sturdy oak, this guy had the leaner build of a willow, or perhaps an insect, his movements toeing the line between graceful and uncanny. The way the light gleams off the round glasses covering his eyes leans him towards the latter, but he smiles at the blossoms he’s watering with the tenderness of a mother towards her child.

His uniform is black. Like spilled ink, like black holes, the very antithesis of every other male student’s pure white.

The flowers he’s tending to are in various shades of red, white and purples but they’re as recognizable as their caretaker.

“Hey, Milly? Who’s that?” Meryl asked.

“Oh, him? That must be Mr. Vash Saverem!” Milly replied.

“Vash Saverem.....wait, Saverem? You mean he’s related to the student chairman?” Meryl didn’t know the guy had a brother!

“Yup, they’re twins.” Identical twins?! “He’s in our class this term.” A classmate?! “Didn’t know he had a green thumb.”

“Neither did I.” Then again, until today Meryl didn’t even know he existed, period.

“Welp, I’m gonna go on ahead. I’m dying for a shower and a good cup of Ceylon tea. Bye, Meryl!” Milly waved before leaving for her dorm.

Meryl waved back and watched as Milly’s perky hightail disappeared around the corner.

Glancing back, Meryl startled as an intent gaze pinned her in place. She blinked, and was met with a wide smile and friendly wave.

She awkwardly waved back.

Vash’s smile grew wider and he wiggled his pianist fingers. He lowered his hand but didn’t turn back to the flowers. He seemed.....expectant?

Meryl weighed her options. She supposed it would be rude to ignore him. Plus, as a scholarship student the last thing she wants to do is upset the guy with close ties to someone who could kick her out.

Plus, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious to know more about him.

Meryl hesitated at the threshold, taken aback at the inside of the greenhouse. The interior was more spacious than the exterior indicated but every surface was covered in a forest’s worth of pots and plants that’d make navigation an absolute nightmare for a newcomer. However, she only had eyes for one particular flower.

The geraniums.

She knows what they are like she knows the back of her hand, for it’s there that lies the ring she treasures most.

“You can come in, they don’t bite.”

Vash’s voice was- nice, is the first word that comes to mind. Friendly, polite, on the cusp of cheerful even, the kind that some either view as cute or obnoxious depending on their mood. His hair is long, a shade of blonde that shone like gold and braided in a style as pretty as it was practical. His left ear is pierced with a small hoop, another violation of the dress code he seems to get away with.

Meryl stepped inside. Behind her, the door swung shut with a ‘clang’ more akin to cold metal than glass.

“I’m Meryl Stryfe.” She carefully tiptoes arounds the pots until she’s within reasonable proximity.

“Nice to meet you. You’re one of the scholarship students, aren’t you?” Vash smiles.

“I am.” And she’s proud of that.

“Wow. Pleasure to meet you!” he beams. Setting his apple red watering can aside, he held his hand out.

Meryl grasped it firmly, knowing a firm handshake is crucial for a good first impression-

She screams as Vash’s arm falls out of its socket. Shocked, she instinctively drops it and sees that instead of flesh and tissues, the extremity was a skeletal masterpiece of porcelain and turquoise.

Vash tosses his head back and laughs so hard he bends over double.

“Need a hand?” he snorted through giggles.

“You-!” she stomps her foot. “That’s not funny!”

Vash pouted and she hates that it makes him look like a kicked dog because it makes her feel sorry for the jerk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a pretty young dame mad.”

“Pretty? Me? You flatterer.” Meryl waved her hand, sarcasm oozing from her words. The sunlight glints off her ring with the motion.

“Sorry if I really did upset you.” Vash said, reattaching his prosthetic. He flexes his fingers and gosh, how advanced and expensive was that thing for the articulation to look so natural?

“Apology accepted. So....did you do all this?” she gestured to the greenhouse.

“Yup, it’s my responsibility.” Vash nodded.

“Oh, like a club?” with only one member apparently.

“No. It’s my job to take care of it.” Why not hire a gardener for that? Unless Vash specifically requested for the chore? Maybe he genuinely enjoys it.

“Only you? Everyday? That’s impressive.” She hummed.

“It’s nothing, really.” Vash rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you like flowers?”

“Not.....really.” the geraniums loomed almost judgmentally in her peripheral.

“Oh.” Vash tilts his head and his lenses shift to twin suns. His tone is neutral but Meryl felt like she’s missed a step in the dark.

“But I do find them beautiful.” She added.

“They are, aren’t they?” Vash caressed an orange lily. “Would you like one?”

“Ah, no need!” Meryl refused. “I wouldn’t know how to take care of it.”

“Really? But you seem like a caring person.” Vash mused.

“You think so?” for some reason, that flustered her more than being called pretty.

“I know so.” Vash’s smile was sincere and-was that a tear? No, get a grip, it’s just a beauty mark.

“It’s getting late.” Meryl looked outside and sure enough, the sun was setting. How long has she been in here?

“Oh, you’re right. Sorry if I kept you.” She said.

“Thank you for keeping me company.” Vash replied.

Meryl paused before she left. Something was off here. Milly knew that Vash was related to the student chairman, it’s fair to assume the rest of the student body knew that too. But if that’s the case, why has Vash been under everyone’s radar? If there’s any elitist that should have clout, it should be Vash. Yet, looking back, Meryl has never seen anyone flock to his desk during recess or after school.

Didn’t he have any friends?

Meryl bit her lip.

It felt wrong. Nobody deserves to be alone. Nobody should leave someone to loneliness forever. It’s not the right thing to do.

“....hey Vash?” she asked.

Vash hummed in acknowledgement, having returned to watering.

“Maybe next time, you can teach me how to care for the flowers. So, I can take you up on your offer.” She said.

The drizzle of water halted. Teal eyes met blue grey and Meryl understands now why so many authors depicted their characters with blue-tinted eyes.

“I’ll hold you onto that.” He smiled.

Oh wow, okay, Meryl will admit, Vash is actually pretty beautiful, objectively speaking! Still, she’s proud that she got him to crack a smile.

“Vash!”

Meryl jumped at the rough voice and squawked as a brickhouse of a man roughly shoulders past her. He stomps through the greenhouse like a bull in a china shop, callously kicking aside smaller pots and trampling leaves that were too long or too wide.

Before she could call him out on his rude behavior, her jaw drops as he rears his hand back and backhands Vash face.

The watering can clatters to the floor, spilling what little water was left. Vash cradles his red cheek with one hand while the other is held in his attacker’s vice grip. The only silver lining is that it’s his prosthetic, so no more skin was being bruised.

Then again, he never should’ve been hurt to begin with!

“Think you can hide away from me in your little garden? If you’re gonna piss me off, at least try to do it right.”

“I’m sorry, Master Monev. I lost track of time.” Why was Vash apologizing?!

Wait, Monev- this name Meryl knew. He was the kendo club’s captain and football quarterback. Tall, muscular, athletic, he’s the textbook definition of a heartthrob jock and from what she’s seeing, the charming personality of a dumpster.

“Oh? Was this what distracted you?” Monev sneered at Meryl with the same vitriolic one gives a cockroach.

“This is the one who’s going to ask what the hell you’re doing to Vash! Who do you think you are?!” Meryl growled.

“I’ll tell you who I am. I’m the one who owns Vash. We’re just a happy pair of lovebirds.” Grinning, he snaked his arm around Vash’s waist and pulled him close. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” he crooned into his hair.

“Of course. I am your Bride.” Vash demurred. Meryl didn’t know which sight was more nauseating; the doll-like perfection of that tone or Monev’s casual possessiveness as if Vash was some, some trophy!

Also, master? Bride?! Were Monev and Vash in an arranged marriage or something?

“It doesn’t matter what he is to you! You can’t go around hurting people, period.” Meryl said sternly.

“Wanna bet?” Monev smirked.

And Meryl’s seen that kind of smirk before, had to survive from the ones who bore it as they tried to put her down simply because they could.

More importantly, she knew how to react to it.

Meryl ducked under Monev’s meaty fist and darted towards the watering can. She hurled it towards Monev’s face to buy her enough time to snatch up a broom.

Monev’s head reared back in surprise as she shoved the rough bristles into his face.

Meryl glared at the bigger man. Her palms were sweaty but her grip around the wooden handle was steady.

“You’re the kendo team captain, aren’t you? How about a proper duel to settle this?” she goaded.

“Why you little-!” Monev froze. Staring past the broom, his eyes fell on the pathetically puny hands clutching it.

One of which bore a very familiar ring.

“Well, damn.” He chuckled. “So, you’re the new challenger.”

“The what?” Meryl had expected him to call her many things. ‘Challenger’ wasn’t one of them.

“You want a duel, yeah? I’ll give you one in the forest’s dueling arena in 30 minutes.” Monev explained.

“The forest behind the school? The one nobody’s allowed into?” she figured they would’ve just used the kendo practice space which was designed for well, duels.

Monev chuckled and- she hated how he looked at her with the smugness of someone who knows something she didn’t and is aware of said ignorance.

“You’ve got 29 minutes left to back out.” He taunted.

Monev sauntered out of the greenhouse with his Bride, knocking over one more flower in his departure.

Vash tried not to wince at the unnecessary loss. Ah, he had planned on repotting that snapdragon.......

Do you know? Do you know? Did you hear the news?

There’ll be another duel today in the Eden behind the school!

Oh, sweet angel! Sweet angel, who fights to protect the weak and helpless.....

But, be careful, sweet angel.

There are gardens in Eden.

Do you know what they are?

Do you know? Do you know? Do you know what they are?

29 minutes later, night accompanies Meryl’s arrival to the forest. She’s armed with nothing but sheer guts and the bat Milly had insisted she keeps upon learning that she’d be alone in her dorm. At the time, she thought her friend had been a worry wart. Come tomorrow, she’s treating her to a mille feuille.

Being Julai Academy, of course the place wasn’t sealed away behind the wire fence most plebeians used. Instead, it was a gate made of a material that’s smooth as marble yet hard as stone.

Engraved upon the looming doors were geraniums, as if someone had magnified her ring and stamped it onto the slabs. In between were three vertical lines, with the middle one being longer than the sides. Drawn in the center of it was a perfect circle with two short horizontal lines at the side.

It looked so simplistic compared to the geraniums, so out of place.

But alas, she wasn’t here to critique the architecture.

She grunted as the doors refused to budge. She knew it, she needed some kind of key. Did Monev have it? Would she have to request for access? She’s rather eat a raw lemon than ask him for anything-

“Cold!” Meryl yelped as the aforementioned sensation shot through her fingertips.

Then water started gushing out of cleverly hidden faucets. The streams of liquid flowed like fabric and the doors grind, unfurling into trumpets atop the entrance in preparation to herald an arrival.

Defied laws of physics aside, she supposed it’s an invitation.

She enters and gazes up at an impossibly long set of stairs that spiraled up into what seems like infinity. If she stares any longer, her neck’s definitely gonna cramp.

Grip tightening around the bat, she starts her climb. Each step builds a pressure in her eardrums, akin to that of an airplane taking off. She feels lightheaded and the urge to pop her ears is almost maddening yet impossibly, when she reaches the top, she’s barely out of breath.

Good thing too because what she sees takes it all away.

She’s high up, really high up. So high that the only grounds in sight are the arena and the clouds. Hovering above the sky to loftily stare down on her was some kinda of...ship? Castle? Ark? It shimmers like a mirage with an ethereal glow that shone down on the arena with the intensity of a sun. It was making Meryl sweat more than the stair ascent. Whenever she tries to focus on a single area, her head spins.

So she opts to do what she does best: look ahead and focus on what’s in front of her.

What’s in front of her is no less confusing.

Vash stands in the center of the platform clad in an elaborate red dress. It’s a beautiful creation of fabric so silky, it flutters like butterfly wings, petal layers cascading down his long legs. A circlet secures a translucent veil around his hair, forming an angelic halo.

He looks like a princess straight out of a fairy tale. No, like a bride.

“She came.” Monev tried not to laugh at the barbaric weapon the pipsqueak brought with her.

“What is all this?” Meryl gestured to their vast surroundings and Vash’s getup. “I came here for a fight, not a roleplay!”

A roleplay? A play? Is she shitting with him? He checked her hand again to confirm she had the right ring.

“And how is that there? I couldn’t see it from outside.” She knew rules were gonna be broken today, school rules, not reality-defining rules.

“Oh, that. It’s just a mirage of sorts. Think of it as a trick of the light.” Monev replied nonchalantly, clearly desensitized to its presence.

“A mirage.....” it’s an eerily vivid one.

“I’m surprised a nobody outside the student council has the Geranium Seal.” He said.

“Geranium seal?” she echoed.

He showed her his hand. Glinting atop his knuckle was an exact copy of the ring Meryl’s prince bestowed upon her.

‘How does he have that?’ did Monev know the prince too? Impossible, how could he give a boon to someone so cruel!

“Vash! Prepare us!” Monev barked at him.

Vash stepped forward with a geranium in each hand, one purple, one white. Approaching Monev, he placed the former in his breast pocket. Turning to Meryl, he repeated the action.

“Vash, what are you doing here?” Meryl whispered.

“It’s the Geranium Bride’s place to be here, so here I am.” He replied.

“That’s why he calls you his bride?” what kind of pet name was that?

The geranium was pinned in place, giving Meryl a whiff of citrus and fruity accents with a hint of spice and roses. She didn’t tear up, she couldn’t, she’s not a child anymore and there’s no prince here to kiss away her tears this time.

“If your geranium is knocked off your chest, you lose the duel.” Vash explained.

Okay, good to know it’s not a battle to the death. Destroying a flower is a small price to pay compared to drawing blood.

“Good luck.” Vash bid.

Scowling, Monev stormed over and slapped Vash for his insolence. In front of his face, no less!

“What was that for?!” Meryl glared, kneeling down to help Vash up.

“For stepping out of line. I’m his Engaged. His love, his luck, all of it belongs to me.” Monev said lowly.

“Forgive me, Master Monev.” Vash lowered his head, standing up.

“Why are you letting him get away with treating you like this?” Meryl hissed.

“Because I’m the Geranium Bride, and he is my Engaged.” Vash intoned.

This went beyond your classic boyfriend-girlfriend spat. A voice in the back of Meryl’s brain was screaming at her to leave now. This arena, this duel, the gaze of whatever it was watching from above.

But-

If she does, Monev wins.

The only way for evil to triumph is when good people do nothing.

And a prince never does nothing.

“I don’t know what craziness is going on here, but that won’t stop me from beating him.” She declared.

Vash watched Meryl take her place opposite of Monev. It’s like watching a tiny kitten square up to a full-grown bear.

Time to provide the bear his claws.

Clasping his hands together as if in prayer, his flesh alights into a canvas of bioluminescent markings and the incantation poured from his lips as easily as a tilted watering can.

“Power of millions that sleeps within me. Heed your master and come forth!”

Meryl vainly tried to shield her eyes from the supernova that burst forth. Squinting, she watched as Vash tilted into Monev’s arm in a parody of a dip, spine arching as a sword handle sprouted from his chest.

Grasping the handle, Monev draws a blade. The blade gleamed, sharp, deadly and clean of any blood or gore despite being yanked out a human body.

“Grant me the power to revolutionize tomorrow!” Monev bellowed, head and sword held high.

Wolfwood blinked as the bells rang. Spitting out the sucker he’s finished minutes ago, he muttered a half-hearted prayer to the poor fool that’s decided to challenge Monev.

‘Another trick of the light?’ Meryl had no time to find out as Monev lunged forward.

She quickly blocked the first of a barrage of attacks. Each one carried enough force to tremor from her fingernails to her shoulders. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to focus. Rollo was strong, he was the kendo team’s captain for a valid reason, but his patterns were predictable when he clearly underestimates her.

Monev couldn’t help but laugh as the little mouse tried to stay on her own two feet. He’s literally keeping one hand tied behind his back while both of hers must be aching already.

“You’re not half-bad, for a girl.” He taunted while their weapons were locked. “But....”

Meryl grunted as Monev batted her aside. Pushing herself up, her stomach dropped as she stared at the remaining half of her bat, the top half having been sliced through cleanly.

“Wait a minute.” She paled. “That’s a real sword?!” oh god, oh god, was he actually trying to kill her?!

“It’s the Angel Arm. Did you really think a toy like that stood a chance?” Monev scoffed.

He casually twirled the Angel Arm, relishing in the easy power within his hands. “You really don’t know a thing, do you?”

“I know this duel isn’t over yet!” Meryl gritted out.

Monev laughed. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. Don’t worry, princess, I’ll make this quick.” Toying with prey too long spoils the meat after all.

“You’re wrong.” Meryl’s muscles tensed in preparation. She had one shot at this.

“It’s prince to you!” she roared before charging forward like a bullet.

‘Idiot!’ Monev wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t. But neither was his opponent and wasn’t that terrifying?

Vash watched with bated breath as both duelists charged towards each other. No tangible force could’ve dissuaded Meryl’s path and Monev was done holding back.

At the last second Meryl ducked into a roll losing her cap and a few strands of hair in the process. Without a target, Monev’s momentum took him off balance. He reflexively turned around to keep her within his sight-

Leaving his geranium vulnerable to the wooden projectile thrown his way.

The purple petals had scattered to the winds by the time Monev regained his stance. No, no, no, this can’t be happening!

Except his breast pocket was empty while Meryl’s geranium remained whole.

“Vash.....” the blonde smiled and for once, the expression sent a shudder down his spine.

“Cheer up....Monev.”

The Angel Arm vanishes, leaving naught but a downy black feather behind and even that too was snatched away, just like his geranium and his Bride.

Chapter Text

“If the egg's shell does not break, the chick will die without being born. We are the chick; the egg is the world. If the world's shell does not break, we will die without being born.”

“Break the world's shell! For the sake of revolutionizing the world!”

“Have you received your orders from the Eye of Michael?” Legato asked, the morning sun dying his blue hair a shade lighter.

“I received mine.” Elendira replied, her smooth fair skin and dark red lips maintaining a perfect poker face.

Wolfwood merely grunted, annoyed with the subpar cards in his hands.

More cards were piled up, aces, spades, clovers, diamonds, hearts, kings and queens until finally, a letter was placed at its peak. The silver wax seal in the center was as hard and cold as a coin.

“As it is written in this letter, Monev failed yesterday.” Legato’s lips curled as they wont to do when someone disgusts him, which tends to be anyone who isn’t his master.

“And now the Bride’s engaged to a girl who’s not a member of our council.” Elendira asked.

“She gettin’ any emails from our lord and master too?” Wolfwood asked.

“Who knows.” Legato pursed his lips.

Wolfwood rolled his eyes. He’s surprised the blueberry’s hair still hasn’t turned green yet. “Either way, she wears the seal. Monev saw it and so did I.”

“Interesting.” Elendira’s manicured nail tapped against the table. “Just who is she?”

“Meryl Stryfe, one of the scholarship students. Bit of a goody-two-shoes. Her record’s so squeaky clean you can use it to wipe tables.” Wolfwood replied.

“An unheard stranger just imposing on the duels?” Legato’s cards threatened to crumple. “If this happens again....”

“You’ll do what? Drop out?” Elendira taunted.

“Of course not!” Legato hissed, the notion of doing so was blasphemous! “Our master’s wishes serve a purpose beyond our comprehension yet we are free to follow them as we see fit.”

Wolfwood bit back a laugh. ‘Free’? What would Legato Bluesummers know of freedom?

“Something on your mind, Punisher?” Legato asked, his tone too airy to be casual.

“Dropping out isn’t one of em’ so you can shove the stick back up yer ass.” He retorted.

“Quite. The Eye of Michael’s scripture is specific. The one who wins the Geranium Bride in the duels and is engaged to him will finally ascend to the ark and gain the blessing to revolutionize tomorrow.” Elendira recited.

“And that is why we must fight.” Legato tossed two jokers onto the pile, ending the game.

Yesterday had been weird to say the least.

When Meryl woke up and tried to recall what had transpired, everything from the moment she walked into that greenhouse to the duel with Monev felt like a fever dream. Okay, her shoulders were also sore but everyone’s woken up with random bodily aches after a rough night of sleep.

Yawning, she stumbled through her morning routine. Brush her teeth, shower, change and eat a hearty breakfast of coffee and donuts.....

Wait.

Since when did she have donuts?

“Good morning, mistress.”

Meryl’s head snapped to the side so fast, she almost got whiplash.

Vash smiled at her from the window he had been dusting. His hair was gathered into a bun and he was wearing a maid’s dress, the kind worn at gimmicky cafes with frills, lace and ribbons that accentuated his body in ways Meryl shouldn’t stare at but couldn’t look away from.

“VASH?!” maybe she still hasn’t woken up from the fever dream yet.

Except the sunlight pouring through the window was warm and the wiped floors smelled faintly of lemon. A quick glance back confirmed that overnight, her bed had undergone mitosis into a bunk bed.

“Is something the matter, mistress?” Vash asked.

“What are you doing in my dorm?” Meryl asked.

“It is customary for the Bride to live with the Engaged.” He replied, dipping into a polite bow. “Please take care of me.”

Bride. Engaged.

Oh sweet cheese and crackers, the roleplay, the floating ark, the sword-

“I’m not your engaged!” she spluttered.

“You won the duel.” He reminded her.

“But-but this is a single!” she unlocked her door (how did Vash get in if it was locked?) and poked her head out-

Meryl Stryfe

Vash Saverem

……at least the penmanship was good.

“Mistress, you should eat before your coffee gets cold.” Vash said, sitting on the other side with his own plate of donuts.

Meryl conceded that she can’t handle whatever’s about to happen next without some precious caffeine in her system.

She drained half the cup in one shot and bit into a donut. It was sweetly glazed, fried to a perfect golden-brown and fluffy on the inside. 

Vash refilled her cup without needing to be asked to. He seemed used to all this. Was this how it was like with Monev too? Is that why he wanted to cling onto Vash, so he’d have arm candy, a weapon(?!) and his own personal maid, all in one package? The longer she stared at him, the less she understood. The outfit he wore exposed more skin than necessary but it also provided Meryl an ample view of well, plain normal skin. Unless his entire body was tattooed with some special glow ink? 

“I have a few questions.” Understatement of the century. Still, she had to start somewhere.

“I’ll answer to the best of my ability.” Vash promised.

“First question: what’s with the floating mirage and trick sword?” she asked.

“Mysteries.” He replied.

“You don’t know either, do you?” Meryl sighed. “Then why do you do all that?”

Vash took a sip of his coffee. “Why do you always dress like a boy, mistress?” he asked.

“Well....” She fumbled with the non-sequitur. “Because I like to.”

“That’s my answer.” He replied. “Is our being here a problem for you?”

Meryl stirred her coffee. Possible breaking and entering aside, Vash has been a model roommate so far, a productive one even.

“Not really, but- hold on, ‘our’?” she parroted.

“Va!”

Lifting the coffee pot, Meryl did a double-take as a black furry spectre nibbled away at one of Vash’s donuts. The creature was shrouded in a red poncho and had a golden hoop pierced through one of its sharp ears. Sleek tail perking to attention, big green eyes stared into Meryl’s soul before devouring the rest of the fried dough.

Meryl pointed at the black cat for wordless confirmation.

“I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Kuroneko.” Vash cooed, brushing away the crumbs on its whiskers.

“Your pet?” they were allowed in the dorms?

“My friend.” Vash corrected.

Meryl never really desired a pet since they were so high-maintenance. But she was only human and the black fluffball was undeniably cute.

“Nice to meet you, Kuroneko. I’m Meryl Stryfe. I hope we can be friend too.” She offered her hand for the cat to sniff.

Whatever she smelled must’ve passed her judgement since she butted against her palm in demand for more pets, purring deeply when she obliged.

“I’ve never seen Kuro take to someone so well, mistress.” Vash praised.

“I have a name, you know.” Meryl blushed.

“But I’m engaged to you, mistress.” A needle and thread had materialized into his fingers so he could patch up the hole in her.....cap......

That word again, engaged, speaking of which.

“Monev has a ring just like this one, right? Why? What is it, really?” she asked, absentmindedly twisting her own.

“All members of the student council have one. It’s called the Geranium Seal. Whomever wears it is marked as a duelist. As the current champion, other wearers will come to challenge you to duels.” he explained, pulling the stitches tight.

“You’ve gotta be kidding!” she slammed her fist onto the table, rattling their cups. “I didn’t come to this school to sign up for gladiator swordfights!” she bemoaned.

“It’s the rule of the Geranium Seal.” Vash repeated plaintively.

“I’d like to have a word or two with whoever made those rules.” Meryl grumbled.

Vash smiled at Meryl. It wasn’t a mocking smirk like Monev’s or the cheery upturns like Milly’s. No, with the way his fluttering lashes brushed his cheeks, it was coy.

“Would you like some incentive or compensation for your efforts?” he purred.

Meryl tensed as Vash leaned across the table languidly, the collar of his dress stretching across his broad chest with the movement. Placing her repaired cap back on her head, his long fingers straightened her collar.

“I can be whatever you desire. Your maid, your cook....your companion.” Those clever digits brushed invisible dust off her shoulder, each swipe full of static.

“How about a friend?!” Meryl blurted out an octave higher than intended. Clearing her throat, she tried again.

“Look, you seem like a great guy and I get you’re really into the whole ‘bride’ thing but I’d rather we just be….friends. Like normal people.”

Vash retreated back to his seat and Meryl breathed a little easier.

“Normal friends.” It sounded foreign to him.

Now Meryl was no romance expert but after seeing the absolute disaster that was whatever Vash had going on with Monev, letting him throw himself into the arms of the first decent person to stand up for him is so not healthy long-term.

“Yeah. We can have lunch together, hang out for fun, talk and just enjoy each other’s company, no strings attached.” She offered.

“Okay.” Vash replied, dropping the flirtatious attitude as if it was never there.

As they cleared away the table a nauseating question came to mind. Meryl knows she’s going to hate the answer....but she’ll hate herself more for trying to ignore it.

“What were you to Monev?” she asked.

Vash turned the tap and the rush of cold water wasn’t deafening enough to smother his answer.

“His bride.”

From behind, she could see the alluring length of his neck, the dip in his spine and the miles of long legs stretching from the mid-thigh skirt. Meryl wrenched her eyes away, feeling like filth for looking to begin with.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs.” She said, snatching her bag and leaving before he could reply.

Meryl goes to class and takes notes. During lunch, she sits with Milly and shares said notes. Her routine is the same as ever....except this time, she’s shadowed by a humanized golden retriever.

Milly, god bless her soul, had better luck than Meryl at getting over her confusion, greeting Vash with a sunny smile and acting as if they’ve always been a trio instead of a duo.

Even when he sat at the same table at them but with enough deliberate distance between their seatings, Milly calculated he was close enough to be included in their conversations.

And it was less stilted than Meryl thought it’d be. Vash makes all the right sounds, nods and establishes eye contact, all the marks of an active listener. But while Milly went on about how her big-big brother was graduating while her little-big brother prepared for some competition or another, Vash just existed. Any attempts to learn about his own family was like getting blood from stone.

Luckily, Milly knew a losing battle when she saw one and made it her job to never give awkward silence the chance to present itself. When she makes to give Meryl her ritualistic pudding cup, Meryl shakes her head, subtly nodding towards Vash. Understanding, Milly gives it to him instead. Vash offers a donut in exchange with a smile.

Meryl makes a mental note to keep an eye on Vash’s diet. One that’s 90% donuts is just asking for diabetes.

Milly moans in appreciation for the sweet dessert. Vash is glad she likes it. Under the table, Meryl slips Kuroneko some ham from her sandwich.

Vash doesn’t open the pudding cup but he keeps it with him so neither of them comments on it.

The bell rings and the girls head to their next class with Vash trailing behind them like a kite.

Fortunately, dinner consisted of two servings of hearty stew, dinner rolls and fresh salad. Meryl waited for Vash to arrive, hoping he might find it easier to open up to her if it’s just the two of them. However, with every minute that passed, the stew cooled and Vash’s seat remained vacant.

Meryl groaned, slumping in her chair. ‘What’s taking him so long?’

Unbidden, she recalled the maid dress Vash wore and her face flushed so hot it could’ve reheated the entire meal. She hoped the guy wasn’t sprucing up in another ridiculous costume to woo her.

Oh, whatever! Snatching up her fork, she stabbed it into a dinner roll with more force than necessary. She wasn’t his keeper, she was hungry and she’s going to fix that.

“Vaaaaa! Va-va!”

Meryl swallowed her bite. “Hey Kuro. Think you could tell Vash to hurry up? Otherwise, all this will go to waste.” She joked.

Kuroneko yowled, clambering up the tablecloth. Meryl yelped as Kuroneko hooked her claws into her elbow and tugged. Sheathing them, she dashed towards the exit and glanced back, green eyes expectant.

The knot forming in Meryl’s stomach definitely wasn’t from hunger anymore.

“Why, Vash?! Why won’t you listen to me?” Monev griped.

This is the nth time he’s asked and so Vash replied for the nth time: “I’m sorry, Monev. I’m engaged to Ms. Stryfe now.”

“Did our time together mean nothing?!” Monev asked shaking his shoulders.

“That was the past. You lost, ending our engagement. Please forget about me.” Vash stared at the moth fluttering around the lamp beside them.

“You shameless cunt!”

A slap knocks Vash to the ground and the sight of the moth is replaced with cold tile.

“You’re a disgrace.” Monev spat.

“The only disgrace here is you!”

He glared hatefully at the pretend prince and her animal sidekick. She knelt down to fuss over Vash and Monev reined in the urge to kick them both into the dirt.

“I was just about to come looking for you. I lost the duel because I let my guard down. How about we settle once and for all who should possess the Geranium Bride?” he suggested.

“I want a rematch in the arena tomorrow, after class.” a hissy Kuroneko clawed at his leg. Annoyed, he kicked the stupid beast away from him.

“Don’t be a sore loser. I refuse to take part in another pointless fight. I don’t care about this bride nonsense, I only fought you for my friend.” Meryl said defiantly.

“You don’t have a choice in this.” the aggressiveness of his tone took on a bluntness that unnerved Meryl more than entitlement.

“If you get engaged to the bride as a duellist, you can’t have any objections. Any dumbass who opposes the student council vanishes from this campus, just like that.” The snap of fingers was loud as a whip crack, emphasizing his point.

‘That’s an abuse of authority.’ Meryl wasn’t scared, she wasn’t. She was pissed that this implied the council has expelled god knows how many students over a snub they understandably wanted to move on from.

(That’s all it was, expulsion. No way it’s murder, right? This isn’t some horror flick. And if that were the case, surely the authorities would’ve done something about it, right? Right??)

“Deal. Now stay off our campus and out of our sight until then.” She snapped.

Monev smirked like the cat that got the cream and left. Kuroneko hissed at his retreating back, fangs bared and fur on end.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t going to fight in anymore duels?” Vash pointed out to Meryl once Monev was out of sight.

“I forgot to mention I don’t wanna get kicked out of here either.” Meryl sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Oh well, guess I’ll just have to purposely throw the match. There shouldn’t be a problem then, right?” she mused.

“Of course, do as you please.”

Bending down, Vash gathered his feline friend into his arms, tut-tutting at the silt in her fur. Kuroneko mewled sulkily against his sleeves.

Both of them went back inside to finish their cold stew.

Do you know? Do you know? Did you hear the news?

There’ll be another duel today in the Eden behind the school!

It’s time we settled this.

BANG!

Ack! You got me!......But I’m okay! I lost intentionally.

But, peaceful angel, losing may be harder than you think.

Do you know that?

Do you know? Do you know? Do you know that?

Meryl returns to the arena without a bat and with a plan. Vash is waiting there for her in all his red glory.

His porcelain fingers tap her forehead and her cap vanishes, then her shoulders to puff her sleeves and secure the ends with long cuffs. Waving his hand down her sternum, a glimmering ice blue brooch and a ruffled ascot blooms on her chest, tail coats sprout from her blazer, her shoes lengthen to boots and her socks metamorphosize into lace.

The outfit is beautiful.

It makes Meryl feel powerful.

Monev is there, this time with a katana in hand. Meryl has no doubt that the blade is just as deadly as before, his vengeance more so.

Vash places the geraniums in their pockets, purple like a bruise and white like an angel’s wings respectively. The blossom weighs heavily against her heart.

“You know the rules.” Monev grunted, swinging his sword around to loosen his shoulders.

“No geranium, no victory.” Meryl summed up.

“Be careful.” Vash said.

“Thanks, Vash.” She didn’t plan on getting hurt in a duel she intends to lose.

Monev unsheathes his katana and Vash clasps his hands.

“Power of millions that sleeps within me. Heed your master and come forth!”

His markings are beautiful up close. It reminds Meryl of the intricate filigree that frames fairy tales, and she almost reaches for a camera that isn't there to immortalize such beauty. Despite the difference in their height, Vash falls into her arm, light as a feather. A glow emanates at his chest and when Meryl wraps her fingers around the handle, it’s warm like tea in one’s favourite mug, like the creased photo tucked away in one’s wallet.

Meryl holds the blade aloft and the words follow like Monday follows Sunday.

“Grant me the power to revolutionize tomorrow!”

From his perch, Legato watched the rematch Monev insisted he’d win. Seeing how the girl sloppily blocked his slashes, he admits that Monev’s insistence didn’t seem to be purely bluster. The naïve newcomer was smart enough to use her small size to her advantage this time, opting to dodge instead of waste her strength blocking. But her speed was outmatched by Monev’s ruthlessness. It was the sole trait both of them shared.

Swinging sideways, Meryl grunted as she almost lost her grip on the Angel Arm from the force of the blow.

“Gotcha!” Monev grinned savagely.

Hand shooting up to cover her geranium, Meryl twisted sideways, narrowly avoiding the chop. Meryl darted back to put some distance between them. That was close.

Monev’s shoulders shook with half-crazed laughter rather than outrage. “You get it, don’t cha? You put the geranium before your own life. Living or dying means shit.”

Meryl wouldn’t go that far. She was just following the rules! She doesn’t want to lose....except she does, doesn’t she? No, no, she also doesn’t want to die! She’ll let another one of Monev’s less life-threatening attacks land, that’s all.

She blocks another attack but Monev doesn’t pull away. He presses on until they’re locked at the hilt. This close, she can count the teeth he’s baring and see her own strained reflection stare back at her from his blade.

“It may be the Angel Arm, but without a great swordsman, it’s just scrap metal. I was careless yesterday, but now I’ll show you my true power!”

The breath is knocked out of Meryl’s lungs as Monev buries his foot into her abdomen. The kick sends her rolling halfway across the arena. Clutching her stomach, she wastes precious seconds dry heaving through the pain burning her abdomen.

“Both the sword and Vash belong to me.” Monev gloated confidently.

“Power, power, power, belong, belong, belong. If that were the case, you wouldn’t have to keep saying it.” Meryl spat.

‘Keep him talking.’ She just needed him to do so until she found it. Come on, come on, she’s sure it’s here somewhere!

“I think you should worry about what you should be saying once I make you grovel!” Monev roared.

CLANG!

Monev’s eyes widened as Meryl halted his attack by crossing the Angel Arm with his katana sheath. Gritting her teeth, she straightened her knees inch by agonizing inch and shoves Monev away.

But like stretching a rubber band, the further you pull, the harsher it snaps back. He charges forward and so does she, running running running till her legs burn.

And then.

            The world.

                        Slows.

                                    Down.

There’s a hand over Meryl’s, then a buzz in her veins and a levity in her bones. She hears a sound in the distance, not the ringing of bells but the chorus of a choir. The blade is light and her arm is strong for the blade is but an extension of her.

The Angel Arm thrusts forward, painting a stroke through the air particles themselves.

The clatter of a detached katana blade joins the cascade of purple petals.

Meryl blinks and like a flipped switch, her heartbeat restarts its jackrabbit tempo and she wills herself to lower her sword lest it falls out of her shaky grip.

Monev stands still as a statue, Vash’s eyes are wide and for a second, the whole world seemingly comes to a standstill to scratch its head in bewilderment.

“What was that just now?!” Legato’s seen skill and scorned dumb luck but that? It was neither, it was leagues above them.

It could only be one thing.

A blessing from Him.

Legato tucks away his binoculars. At least one good thing came out of this: a reminder to never commit Monev’s grave mistake of underestimating Meryl Stryfe.

“Va! Va! VAAAAAAA!”

Meryl giggled as Kuroneko ran in circles to catch the unattainable red dot. Taking pity on the kitty, she turned off the laser pointer. Putting it away in the drawer, she glanced up to see Vash standing there, back in his black uniform.

He wasn’t smiling but he didn’t look sad either. And-Meryl was glad. Glad that he was simply here with her and not stuck with someone who’d see him as a prize at best and a weapon at worst.

“You didn’t purposely lose?” it wasn’t an accusation, just genuine curiosity.

Meryl’s lips twitched wryly. She hadn’t and oddly enough, she didn’t regret it one bit. And well, watching as patches of Kuroneko’s fur turned white from cake cream, she knew why.

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Kuro.”

.

.

.

Did Vash mishear her?

“If you went with that jerk Monev, he’d just bully Kuro.” Meryl smiled dotingly at the cat as she tried to clean her.

Cheeks puffed full of cake, Kuroneko nodded. Squirming away from the wet wipes, she graciously gifts Meryl a strawberry from the cake.

The girl laughed at the kitten’s sweet gesture. So charmed she was by the creature that she didn’t catch sight of a second miracle unveiling behind her.

Vash smiles and for once, his cheeks feel warmed instead of pinched.

Chapter Text

Meryl woke up on her new top bunk from that dream again. The one that teethers over the precipice of fantasy and reality with each passing year.

But all she has to do is look at the ring and the uncertainty eases away. It was proof that what happened was real, a remnant from a memory, not a fantasy.

Which brings her to her present reality. Had her prince known about the duels? Was that why he gave her the ring? Was this a secret test of character?

Could he be one of the duellists?

Oooh that-that would be tricky to navigate. On one hand, it narrows down the list immensely but also means she runs the risk of having to fight him and how could she do that to her saviour? What kind of crummy thanks would that be after he saved her life?

“Good morning, mistress!” Vash greeted before she could spiral into more unanswered questions.

“Morning, Vash.” She greeted her roommate.

Today’s breakfast was pizza toast. It was a nice change from donuts though upon opening the fridge and finding boxes of frozen pizza toasts with a variety of toppings, Meryl swears to herself that next week, she’s taking charge over breakfast preparations.

“Are we ever gonna have company over?” Meryl asked, looking at the many vacant chairs that haven’t budged an inch in the mess hall.

“Isn’t the quiet nice?” Vash pointed out.

Silence can be nice but constant silence is just unnatural. The same applies to loneliness which brings Meryl to the next subject she’s been dying to bring up.

“Hey, Vash?”

“Yes?”

“You seem to keep to yourself in class and aside from your flowers, Milly and I, do you have any friends to hang out with?” she asked.

“Of course, I do! Right here.” He nodded towards Kuroneko.

The black cat thought it’d be a great idea to drink milk straight from a cup instead of her bowl, which was fine and all until her snout got stuck in the narrow cylinder. Chuckling, Vash gently freed her.

Meryl was referring to human friends but she didn’t want to offend the cat so let it be for now.

“Would you prefer if I left you and Milly alone to hang out today, Ms. Stryfe?” Vash asked on their way to class.

“And another thing. I told you to stop calling with the ‘miss’ and ‘mistress’.” she’d like to wait at least another 10 years before that formality is warranted.

“I shouldn’t?” he asked.

Before she could reply, some of her juniors called out to her.

“It’s Ms. Stryfe!” “Good morning, Ms. Stryfe!” “Ms. Stryfe! Good morning!”

Meryl smiled and made sure to return all their greetings. Then she realized how they were addressing her and sure enough, there’s an amused curve to Vash’s expression.

“It’s different!” she clarified. “They say it as a term of endearment but when you say it, it’s not.”

“I promise it’s not an insult either. I’m engaged to you is all, Ms. Stryfe.” Ooooh she is sick of the E-word.

“Can you spend one day not bringing up the ‘engaged’ and ‘geranium bride’ stuff?” she face-palmed.

Vash’s brows furrowed. “But-”

“Vash, I meant what I said. You’re a great guy and I have no problem being friends. But despite appearances, I’m just a normal girl who wants a totally normal boy, not a bride.” She groused.

“That right?”

Meryl tensed at the gravelly voice that spoke in their direction. Turning to the source, she saw a black hair boy sauntering towards them at the leisure pace of a man who couldn’t give two hoots what others thought of him. His blazer was left lazily unbuttoned over a grey untucked shirt and his hands were stuffed into the pocket of slacks that fell a little short at his sock-less ankles.

“Name’s Wolfwood, Nicholas D. Wolfwood. I’m one of the student council members and a ‘totally normal boy’.” He smirked. 

Meryl brow rose dubiously at the claim. He looked more like a delinquent prone to skipping classes for a smoke.......and immediately scolded herself for judging a book by its cover.

“Good morning, Wolfwood!” Vash chirped.

“You know him?” she asked.

“It’d be weirder if we didn’t considering the common ground we share.” He shot a meaningful look at her.

“Oh yeah, you’re in the duelling game too, aren’t you?” she recalled.

“Got it on the nail. Have you told anyone about it?” he asked, bending down to whisper to her.

“Unless I want a ticket to the looney bin before graduation, no.” she deadpanned.

“Smart choice, little lady.” Her eye twitched at the jab to her height. “Hey now, don’t be like that. Can’t we be friends?”

“Friends?” her eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Not everyone who shows the ring on their hand wants ta arm wrestle.” Wolfwood took a hand out of his pocket to reveal the very accessory that blesses Meryl’s dreams as much as it haunts her reality.

She tensed. “Why do you have that?”

“Who knows? Maybe it’s all part of His plan.” Wolfwood shrugged.

His, could he be referring to her prince? Did he know who he is?

Could he-

Could Wolfwood be her prince?

“See ya, friend.” He waved farewell and though he didn’t set off the same red flags as Monev, Meryl doubted they were anything close to ‘friends’ just yet.

“Monev’s been sulking in his rooms since yesterday. I doubt he’s attending classes today.” Elendira commented while inspecting her nails.

“Never mind that failure. Well? Is Meryl Stryfe trying to bring revolution to tomorrow like we are?” Legato asked before Wolfwood was fully out of the elevator.

Rolling his eyes, Wolfwood took his sweet time unwrapping a sucker, purposefully tossing the wrapper onto the floor, before answering.

“Naw, short stack knows shit about the whole revolution. She’s not like us, she ain’t gettin’ anything from the Eye.” He replied.

“Then why does she have the seal?” Elendira asked aloud for all of them.

“Who knows?” Wolfwood crossed his arms and gazed at the entrance that led to the balcony.

He hated it. Whenever meetings were held there, he stayed as far away from the railing as possible. He hated having to look down and see how small the world is, be reminded that he’s an even smaller being in a small world left to the whims of a ‘higher being’.

Yet, here he is with a seat at the table built atop a tower of lies. He sits down and isn’t surprised to find that it’s still warm.

Unbidden, his thoughts drifted back to Meryl. How she hadn't been afraid to look a gift horse in the mouth despite the rose-tinted glasses.

Good. She'd best keep that up because this academy is filled with all kinds of animals and white horses ain't one of them.

Meryl scowls as she spots Wolfwood smoking by one of the pillars. He wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant rule-breaking!

“MEEEEEERYL!” Meryl takes one step closer to God as Milly tackles her from behind, nearly throwing both of them out the window and Meryl’s spine out of order.

But not today! Bracing her palms against the windowsill, she pushed of them back to safety.

“Milly.”

“Yes?”

“I think you almost killed us.”

“Oops! Sorry, got a little carried away there. It’s like you to brood by the windows though.” She hummed.

“I wasn’t brooding.” It made her sound like an edgy emo.

“Oh? Then what were you doing?” Milly’s eyes were too wide to be truly ignorant. Indeed, they were already tracking the direction of her prior gaze.

“Oh-ho! Spying on Wolfwood, huh? I didn’t know bad boys were your type.” She snickered.

“Clearly you still don’t know much since they most definitely are not!” Meryl bristled. Who would want to kiss someone who tastes like a chimney? Ew.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But it really is for the best. He gets into a lotta trouble, that Wolfwood.” Milly noted.

“What kind of trouble?” Meryl asked.

“Smoking, getting into fights, starting fights, winning said fights, skipping classes....” Milly listed off. “But a lotta girls love him since he stays away from bullying and even swears up and down that he’s a bully-hunter. So, I guess he’s got a good heart deep down.”

Meryl doubts it’s a heart good enough to be a prince on a white horse though. Still, after seeing the garbage attitude Monev has, hopefully Wolfwood would be a much needed lesser evil.

“By the way, where’s your blonde friend?” Milly asked.

“At his greenhouse.” He clearly wasn’t kidding when he said he was the only one taking care of it. Meryl had offered to help but Vash had waved it off and well,  considering her gardening skills, which were non-existent, she doesn’t take it personally.

“Oh, I see.....” Milly fisted her skirt, a common nervous tick. “Does he bother you?”

“Uh, not really?” only when he goes on about the whole bride and engaged shtick.

“A lot of people seem to have a bone to pick with him.” Milly sighed, leaning against the wall.

“Rumours?” Meryl guessed.

“Tons. Some say he’s secretly a playboy that’s left a trail of broken hearts in every class. Some say he uses his brother’s authority to kick people out for fun. Sometimes the rumour goes that he once caused an incident that took the lives of an entire batch of students.” Milly explained.

“WHAT?!” a few heads turned at her outcry and she quickly adjusted her volume. “What kind of nonsense is that? I know I saw Wolfwood smoke but what kind of crack were the people who started those rumours on?!”

Vash, a playboy? Sure, he’s flirted with her a few times but with how rarely he leaves her side, she doubts there’s a steamy affair going on behind her back. Abuse of authority? He’s a victim of it more than anything thanks to those stupid duels.

As for the incident, well....she’s gonna need more information on that.

But that’s for later Meryl to solve. Right now, she has to figure out how she’s gonna get through a calculus test she’s underprepared for.

“It’s your fault!”

Darn, Vash had been in a good mood after seeing that the salvaged snapdragon had continued to thrive in its new pot.

“Monev’s ruined after you made a fool of him!” the girl who slapped him snarled. She had a shrill voice and a body that could be blown away by a strong gust of wind but wow, her slap stings.

“Monev won’t come out of the kendo room now.”

“You jerk! Were you jealous of him or something?”

Did man envy an animal? Vash supposed he did, depending on the species, like say a bear’s strength, a wolf’s killer instinct or a snake’s swiftness. But livestock and pets? Never. Then again, he doesn’t think Monev’s fangirls would believe anything he said, much less appreciate any analogies.

“We want our old Monev back!” Since when was he theirs? And ‘old’? That implied he’s changed at some point.

“Come on, say something!” the one who slapped him griped and had he been shorter or she taller, she’d probably be shaking him by the collar.

“There a problem here?”

The trio of girls winced as they were caught red-handed by none other than Nicholas Doesn’t Take Anyone’s Shit Wolfwood.

Vash detected a whiff of cigarette smoke from the student council member. It smelled disgusting. At least it smelled nothing like the cheap perfume the girl posse’s leader used.

“C’mon ladies, y’know I don’t bite. Please, as a member of the student council, it’s my job to help with any problems ya got!” the wolfish grin he bared contradicted his cheerful tone.

“Oh no, no, it’s nothing, really! We already settled it, right?”

“Right!” the other two bobbed their heads up and down so rapidly, their brains must be quite bouncy.

“We should head to class now. Got a uh, test coming soon.” She stuttered before leaving with her tail between her legs.

Wolfwood watched them go before leaning against the wall beside Vash.

“You mind?” he asked, taking out a smoke and lighter.

“Go ahead.” Vash said. After having to put up with petty squabbles like that, a smoke is the least he could have.

Wolfwood took a deep puff and made sure to turn away when exhaling to keep the smoke as far from Vash as possible.

“You alright? You ain’t the first that girl’s slapped and lemme tell ya, she’s got a nasty swing.” He asked.

“I’m fine, thank you, Wolfwood.” Vash replied.

“If it helps, you and Monev ain’t really what everyone’s talkin’ about these days. Most of em’ are more focused on the dance party.” He said.

“Dance party?” Vash blinked, looking like a confused puppy.

“The one that’s goin’ down this weekend. You and the little lady have even been nominated for dance queen or somethin’.” Wolfwood waved his hand, painting the air with swirling smoke.

“Is our attendance mandatory?” Vash rubbed his neck.

“Not really but peer pressure’s a bitch.” Wolfwood replied bluntly.

Tossing his cigarette butt onto the ground, he grinded his heel against it.

“Will you be there, Wolfwood?” Vash asked.

“Yeah.” Wolfwood wasn’t looking at him. He didn’t have to, Vash knew he was telling the truth. “I’ll be there.”

And a part of Wolfwood that’s tainted filthy horrible just like the smoke he cycles through his lungs hopes Vash will be there too.

After all, misery loves company.

Do you know? Do you know? Did you hear the news?

Oh please, milady, what would you know? The upcoming ball is the talk of the town!

Oh please, milady, what would you know? They may call it a ball, but it’s much easier to just call it a honeytrap.

Now, now, honey can’t help but attract some flies.

How shameless can they be?

Vash scrutinized his opponent critically. She’s just as proficient as ever, but he’s determined to win this time!

Reaching out, he selected his card and pulled……the joker.

“Aw man, I fell for it again!” he giggled, unashamed of his own foolishness.

“Now, look, Vash.” Meryl started carefully.

“Yes?” Vash said.

“Do you really have no friends?” she asked again.

“I do. Right here.” As if on cue, Kuroneko turned around and shot Meryl a look that uncannily resembled a human glare.

“Well, I suppose she is, but.....” come on Stryfe, you even had a script for this planned!

The doorbell rang. “Delivery for Meryl Stryfe and Vash Saverem!”

The delivery in question were two boxes of beautiful outfits tailored for Meryl and Vash to wear to the dance party this weekend. The fact that the letter included was less of an invitation but more of a request that implied they were expected to show up as it would make the guests oh so happy further added to Meryl’s discomfort.

Don’t get her wrong, she prided on making herself look neat and presentable but accepting someone else’s charity in order to do so didn’t sit right with her.

Vash had already opened his box, revealing a silver suit with delicate embroidered butterfly weeds that shimmered when the light hit at just the right angle. Lace gloves were provided to hide his prosthetic with two matching ribbons; one for his collar and another for his hair.

He turned to Meryl, smile wider than usual and eyes shinier with anticipation. Not wanting to disappoint, Meryl opened hers and balked at the contents.

“Ugh, what is this?” she cringed.

It was a periwinkle off-shoulder gown made of layers of soft half-sheer material decorated with frills, butterflies and lace blue roses. The cherry on top was the big blue rose set in the center of the collar and the matching hairclip.

It was beautiful, the material was of the finest quality that was probably worth as much as a house, the entire ensembled tailored to accentuate her body type and height and all but.....

It wasn’t her. This dress, this dance, all of it just wasn’t her thing.

She closed the box, intent on mailing it back as soon as possible.

“You’re not going?” Vash asked.

“No, it’s not my style.” She grimaced.

“Then neither will I.” he declared without missing a beat.

“Huh? Why?” Meryl asked.

“I don’t really care for places with lots of people. All the faces are different from what you know until they all blur to look the same. It gives me the heebie-jeebies, honestly.” Vash faked a shudder but his fists were clenched tight.

“Va....” Kuroneko mewled sympathetically, purring against Vash’s side in comfort.

Vash patted his friend in thanks and returned to their game. “Right-o, it’s your turn now, Kuro.”

Meryl shifted from her seat, suddenly feeling horrible. What if Vash wasn’t going because she didn’t since they’re ‘engaged’? Yes, it irks Meryl but whether she likes it or not, Vash is devoted to it, limited autonomy be damned. She stopped Monev from getting his hands on Vash so he could have more free will. Wouldn’t it be hypocritical of her to tie him down with her own social gripes too?

“No!” she decided.

Vash looked up from his cards.

“You should go. You have to go to the dance. You need to socialize and make friends, you need friends!” she insisted.

“VA?!” Kuroneko hissed.

“Human friends! Lots of human friends.” Meryl clarified.

Vash brought his cards up but Meryl suspected he wasn’t actually thinking of his next move. Sure enough, he lowered them with a smile.

“If you say so, mistress.”

Hopefully once the friend issue was resolved they could move onto the ‘mistress’ part but that’s okay! Baby steps!

The weekend arrives and with it no classes and a party offering free food, good music and if one’s lucky, better company. The first was the only silver lining that kept Wolfwood going at the moment.

He tossed another hors d’oeuvre into his mouth. He’d taken the effort to slick back his hair but forgone the noose known as a tie and left some of his buttons artfully undone. Legato glared at him while a good few girls blushed and tittered. Small victories.

“Why the sour face? Lighten up, Bluesummers. You’re in the running for dance king after all.” Wolfwood smirked, swirling his punch.

“I care little for such asinine formalities.” He sneered and oh, the urge to spill fruity punch all over that crisp white suit is tempting as sin.

Then there’s an uproar by the entrance and Wolfwood knew he could well and truly kiss a peaceful night goodbye.

“Looks like they give a shit more than you though.” He noted turning to see the stars of the show.

Wolfwood couldn’t help but whistle in appreciation at the sight. The little lady looked stunning in her dress. Then again, considering how effortlessly she rocks the male uniform, it’s only natural her beauty is amplified in clothes tailored specifically to further enhance a girl.

And ooooh the crowd was eating it up. Meryl’s cheeks were steadily turning pinker but she forged on and judging by her smooth gait, at least she spared herself the trouble of heels.

All eyes were on Meryl but Legato only had eyes for her companion, Vash.

Wolfwood downed the rest of his punch, wishing not for the first time that it was something stronger.

“I knew I shouldn’t have worn this thing.” Meryl grumbled, stubbornly trying to camouflage into the curtain.

“Forgive me, mistress. You’re embarrassing yourself for my sake.” Vash said sheepishly.

“Embarrassing myself? Is it that bad?” Meryl fiddled the skirt uncertainly.

“I’m so glad you could make it tonight, Vash.”

They were approached by a man in a crisp white suit and….was that blue hair? It didn’t look artificial at all, and his eyebrows and eyelashes were the same shade so it wasn’t dyed but natural. His skin was so pale it could’ve been mistaken for sickly, yet he walked with a poise that was anything but vulnerable.

“Do you know him?” Meryl asked.

“I believe we haven’t been formally introduced. I am Legato Bluesummers, president of the student council.” Hand pressed over his breast, he bowed, a picture perfect gentleman had his expression been less hollow than an empty glass.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Meryl Stryfe.” She tried to curtsey in equal courtesy and felt as dignified as a stumbling doe.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to borrow Vash to take him to where the other nominees are gathering.” Legato grabbed Vash’s gloved hand in his and both disappeared into the crowd.

“Well.....I guess he has a friend after all?” Meryl scratched her head, careful not to dislodge the rose clip.

By the buffet table, Kuroneko sensed a disturbance in the force.

“He doesn’t hafta be the only one with a friend, y’know.”

Wolfwood sidled up to her with two drinks in hand. He offered one to Meryl as an olive branch.

She was a little thirsty. She took a sip and tasted the tart sweetness of apples that washed down with tickling fizziness.

Wolfwood eyed her up-and-down, wolf-whistling appreciatively. “Aren’t you a pretty picture?”

“More like pretty uncomfortable. This doesn’t suit me at all.” She harrumphed.

“Tell that to all yer worshippers.” Wolfwood gestured towards the boys and girls still glancing her way.

“They’re not my worshippers. I’m not some kinda goddess.” Meryl blushed.

“Right, you’re a ‘prince’.”

Meryl flinched. For some reason, the way Wolfwood said that struck worse than if he’d dumped his drink onto her head.

There are faces everywhere.

Roundish shapes with a topping of hair in some colour or another and two symmetrical voids beside the protrude of a nose. It makes Vash think of dolls and marionettes left unfinished, crammed into a shelf out of sight and gradually out of mind.

If Vash had to choose, he’d pick a doll. Dolls are soft, dolls are malleable and so very easy. Dolls were made to be loved, cared for, held close and stationary. Marionettes are a nightmare. Hard material and harder joints that never moved right no matter how well-oiled. Marionettes were made to be strung up, manipulated and moved, move move move, always moving.

Everyone around him was moving. Was he a doll surrounded by marionettes or were they the dolls and he the faulty marionette that was misplaced by the one who should be supporting his strings?

There was laughter oh, everyone was laughing at him. Of course, they would, this is a party! How could he be a party pooper, this just won’t do. It’ll upset everyone, including his mistress and a good bride doesn’t upset their partner.

So, he smiles. If he cannot move like a marionette, he’ll look pretty like a doll. It’s the least he could do, it’s the easiest thing for him to do.

He sees a man in white in his peripheral and the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat. Could it be Legato? He hopes it is, he could use the nauseatingly familiar face-

Ah.

Vash forgot to be a doll. Dolls don’t have hopes.

Dolls are stained and torn apart.

“Wanna dance? Believe it or not, I ain’t half-bad.” Wolfwood offered Meryl.

“I’ll pass.” Meryl shook her head, pretending to take a sip from her empty cup.

Wolfwood didn’t push her and it left Meryl conflicted. He wore his heart on his sleeve in the sense that he wasn’t afraid to mess with her and pretend otherwise. He ruffled her feathers, yet he never disrespected her, respecting her personal space regardless of teases or offers. But every time she thinks she’s getting a read on him, he performs a sleigh of hand, making Meryl question if it was worth befriending this annoyance of a man.

She’s rifling through her conversation pool for something to humour him but her brain short-circuits as a devastating scream echoes through the ballroom.

Head snapping towards the source, her stomach dropped as she saw Vash kneeling on the ground, an absolute semi-nude wreck.

His blazer and shirt were reduced to ribbons, leaving his neck, shoulders, back and the entirety of his prosthetic from shoulder to fingers bare. He desperately clung to the front of what remained of his undershirt to preserve some feeble semblance of modesty. Even his pants weren’t spared, with a good portion of the left leg shredded away to expose his thigh.

He was trembling, he was humiliated, he was terrified, he was utterly alone despite the large crowd surrounding him-

He was her friend and he needed help.

“VASH!”

Through the tears in his eyes, Vash turned his head and saw a familiar fgure standing at the top of the stairs.

It was Meryl.

Minutes ago, she stood on that spot as a guest. But now? She stood there as a prince.

His prince.

“Well, damn.” Wolfwood shook her head at how conscientious Meryl was. All this time, she was waltzing around in that frilly getup and her uniform? Good thing this place’s air-conditioned.

Meryl leapt onto a table, uncaring if she knocked over cutlery and plates and bounded over the crowd in one leap, landing beside Vash.

“Ms. Stryfe?” Meryl swallowed at how small the man could be despite his height

“Let’s dance, Vash.” Grinning, she yanked a tablecloth loose.

It wasn’t a sword, but it twists and folds under her command until finally, Vash was covered once more. Though it resembled a dress, it wasn’t for a bride or a princess, it was a blanket to comfort a friend.

Determined to not let Meryl’s efforts go to waste, Kuroneko added the finishing touch: music.

Vash’s left hand was cold in Meryl’s, but his right was almost burning. Meryl wouldn’t let go of either even under threat of death. They didn’t have a spotlight, they didn’t need one when they already had Vash’s smile.

“Can I be honest, mistress?” Vash whispered.

“Always.” Meryl nodded.

“I’m a terrible dancer.” He grinned.

“And this is my first dance.” She laughed.

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.” He complimented as she dipped him.

“Yeah well, most guys don’t wanna dance with a partner they might step on.” She half-joked.

He tilted his head. “What makes you think I won’t?”

“Because you’re not most guys. You’re just Vash, my friend and roommate who eats way too many donuts.” she replied.

“Donuts are delicious!” Vash pouted.

Meryl shook her head in fond exasperation.

She still didn’t like frilly dresses or ridiculously fancy parties like this and she suspects Vash’s dislike for crowds isn’t leaving anytime soon.

But she’d go through it all again in a heartbeat, just so she could have this dance with him.

Chapter Text

“I would like you to meet our son, ██████.”

██████ smiled. It was one he practiced in the mirror every morning and judging by their guest’s pleased reaction, his efforts have paid off.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.” He nodded, trying to ignore how even that slight movement made his shirt's stiff collar dig against his nape.

“Please, no need to be so stiff! Your parents and I are old friends.” Odd that he’s only heard about him now. “And well, I hope you can say the same for yourself and my daughter in the years to come.”

He blinked. “Your daughter?”

██████’s eyes widened as a girl his age stepped forward. Blonde, tall, bright-eyed and fair skinned like a perfect doll, yet one look at her and he knew her spine was forged from steel stronger than his foil.

“██████, this is my daughter, Chronica.”

“Pleasure.” She didn’t smile but as she curtseyed, the wavy ends of her blonde locks draped elegantly across her shoulders.

██████’s fingers twitched. How soft would those locks feel between his fingers? Should he claw it off her scalp, would it flow down his back just as gorgeously?

Something began to grow in his chest, roots digging deep and blossoms tinting his cheeks pink. Old enough to notice, yet too young to identify.

Perhaps it was a form of love.

What he knew for certain is this: it was neither pure nor simple as mere friendship.

The clash of fencing foils reverberated throughout the gymnasium. Although quite a few pairs were engaged in combat, a notable crowd gathered around one pair in particular. Or rather, its one constant participant.

“Next!”

An appel was all it took to distract her opponent long enough to breach past their defenses. Excellent footwork, but not enough focus.

“Next!”

Better offence but his speed could use work. A beat parry and he was left wide open for a riposte.

“Next!”

It took two more rounds until she was satisfied. Taking the helmet off her sweaty hair, Elendira lowered herself into the chair and loosened the collar of her jacket. Though she relaxed the tension in her muscles, her heterochromia eyes continued to scrutinize her club members’ progress.

“Keep that up and you’ll get wrinkles.” Wolfwood teased.

“Keep that up and you’ll get diabetes.” She retorted as he consumed what was at least his third sucker of the day. “Then again, that’s assuming you don’t get lung cancer first.”

“I’m here for a good time, not a long one.” He shrugged.

For a while, both of them sat in comfortable silence, listening to squeak of soles against wooden floors and the clash of foils. Wolfwood didn’t belong here and they knew it, but Elendira made no move to drive him out.

“Today’s your turn, ain’t it?”

The next pair took their place, helmets down, feet planted on the en-garde line.

“Asking questions you already know isn’t like you.” She mused.

“Then I’ll ask one I really don’t know. Why?” he stopped feigning interest in the match and pinned her with a gaze worse than predatory, curiosity. “Why fight for somethin’ you don’t believe in?”

“The same reason men start wars.” She took off her gloves to unsheathe her gleaming nails. “To prove I’m right.”

Although Milly swore she wouldn’t cry, her eyes burnt as they continued to stare at the abysmal number written on her returned test papers. Judging by the barely restrained sniffles and heavy thumps against desks in the background, she wasn’t the only one recovering from the heavy blow of disappointment.

Calculus, when numbers and alphabets united to spread misery.

“Just great. This is the worst score I’ve ever gotten!” Milly, who was usually an A or B student, bemoaned.

“You and me both, Milly.” Meryl mumbled, cheek smushed against her palm.

“I just wish I could’ve- wait, you and I, both?” Milly’s jaw dropped. Could it be....?

Without turning from the window, Meryl showed Milly her test scores: a horrid 38 written and underlined in equally horrid red like a premonition of the blood, sweat and tears many will shed for the make-up exam.

“Eh?! But you don’t usually do that bad?!” Milly gawked.

‘I usually don’t have magic sword duels with the student council and a roommate with broken potato chip bones either!’ Meryl wanted to cry.

Recently, she discovered the hard way that Vash was the kind of person whose bone cracking sounded like bone breaking. The first meaty ‘CRACK!’ had woken her up in the dead of night and before she could wonder if it was a branch from outside, a solid mass crash-landed on the floor beside her lower bunk.

Her 3 AM brain must’ve screamed loud enough to wake the dead. She almost passed out when the limp body’s head abruptly snapped up with a toothy grin and a way too cheerful ‘evening!’ from someone thought to have snapped their neck.

“Sorry, mistress. I tend to toss and turn a lot in my sleep.” Vash apologized over glasses of milk.

“Uh-huh.” Meryl replied hollowly. What next, her teeth falling out? Or is this the part where she shows up in class without her pants on?

Licking the milk mustache off his lips, Vash deftly collected his empty glass and Meryl’s untouched one.

“Sweet dreams, Ms. Stryfe.” Vash beamed at her before returning to the top bunk of doom.

Meryl should’ve demanded that he get his bony butt down to trade places but he had already been snoring away. She did not have sweet dreams that night.

“It’s fine, make-up exams are fine, you just have to cultivate a sense of logic for it.” Meryl muttered, half to herself.

“Well, my ma always said that a real woman can force her logic onto any man!” Milly chirped.

“Uh-huh.” Meryl stared miserably at her failed test.

A month has passed since her duel with Monev. Neither she nor Vash have crossed paths with him since then and no one else has approached her for a duel. Still, knowing that someone could at any given time has kept her on edge, affecting her sleep and studies. If she thinks it’s bad now, God help her when it’s time for finals.

Unless she pulls herself together, she’s gonna need a miracle to keep her grades up.

Thus, during recess, the basketball went untouched as both girls opted to hit the books in the library.

“Oofies.” Vash winced when he saw Meryl and Milly’s scores.

“Yeah, we both made a big oopsie-daisy.” Milly rubbed the back of her head.

“We’ll be saying much stronger stuff if we don’t buck up.” Meryl opened her notebooks and the math packet, brows set in determination.

“Mr. Cheekbones teaches you guys calculus?”

Meryl and Milly yelped at a volume loud enough to elicit a glare from the librarian and the other students. Offering them a sheepish expression in apology, Meryl glared at the one who startled them.

“It’s rude to spy over someone’s shoulder.” She harrumphed at an unapologetic Wolfwood.

“It’s also rude to call teachers names.” Milly frowned.

“Don’t get yer knickers in a twist, I ain’t insulting the lady who gave im’ those.” Wolfwood huffed. “But fine, that’s Mr. Rowan’s packet, yeah? Mind if I join ya?”

Without waiting for a reply, Wolfwood slid into the empty seat next to them. He unpacked a patch covered bag held together with duct tape, the jerkiness of his movements suggesting a good few cans of energy drinks or caffeine (or both).

“Guy’s a bore at best and a creep at worst- don’t tell me ya haven’t heard how he and Steve can’t take their eyes off Ms. Mary. Anyways, he gives out the toughest questions, I swear he wants to be stuck with us brats.” Wolfwood grumbled, tossing his calculator onto the table. It would’ve skittered off the edge if it hadn’t been for Vash’s fast reflexes.

“He seems like a nice man.” Vash hummed, doodling a hangman in lieu of calculations. Under the table, Kuroneko gagged on his eraser. That ought to teach the naughty kitty to put random things in her mouth.

“He’s just doing his job.” Milly put up tokenistic support for the decent teacher.

“Adding onto our misery?” Meryl deadpanned.

“Little lady gets it. Anyways.” Before Meryl could reprimand him via ankle kick, he successfully dug out his math packet.

“What answer didja get for question 4 in section 4? I got 43, but when I double checked I got 44. Everyone else got like, 53 and I think someone got a 0 which is probably the grade everyone’s gonna get at this point.”

“.......oh dear.” Milly whimpered as her calculator answered 60. Meryl pressed [AC] without even bothering to look at what she got.

Meryl’s pen swerved off course as Vash erupted in laughter.

Vein popping against her temple, Meryl turned to the blonde with a few choice words in mind only to stare stunned as Vash flipped through the corners of his notebook over and over again.

‘Has he lost it?’ she wondered as Vash’s shoulders shook mirthfully.

“Gonna let us in on the joke, needle noggin?” Wolfwood scowled.

Turning his notebook around, Vash gleefully showed them the flip-page animation he doodled of a running man.

“Oh wow, did you draw that yourself, Mr. Vash?” Milly asked, genuinely impressed.

“Mm-hm.” He giggled.

“Come on, Vash, be serious. The exam’s next week.” Meryl griped.

“Yes, yes, Ms. Stryfe.” Vash chuckled, composing himself.

The bell rang, signalling the end of recess. Meryl grimaced at the pages of unanswered questions she’ll have to bring back to the dorm.

“Welp, least one of us had a good laugh.” Wolfwood grunted, haphazardly sweeping his belongings into his bag. “You girls seem bright. If yer ever interested in a study group, sign me up.”

“We’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Wolfwood.” Milly replied diplomatically.

“You two can go on ahead if you want. Today I’m on afterschool clean-up duty.” Meryl smoothed out the creases in her papers.

“Good luck.” Wolfwood waved goodbye and left as swiftly as he came.

For some reason, Meryl had a feeling that he wasn’t just wishing her luck for her exams.

“He’s nice.” Vash hummed, closing his notebook to give the running man a break.

Biting her lip, Meryl polished the surface of another desk until it shone. Vash had offered to stay behind to help her, but Meryl had shooed him off with a reminder to take care of his beloved greenhouse. Vash thanked her for her thoughtfulness and acquiesced.

Meryl is grateful that he did, otherwise she might’ve been tempted to send him on a wild goose chase to search for her missing calculator.

Meryl was usually tidy and organized enough that she rarely misplaced things. For her to lose such an important stationery when she’d absolutely need it within a week was nothing short of frustrating. When she first noticed its absence, she had begged the teacher to let her check the library only to find it gone. The librarian couldn’t find it in the lost-and-found box either.

Should she try looking for it again? Maybe it fell under the table. She has to try before she considered buying a new one, those devices weren’t cheap.

Someone rapped the door. “Excuse me?”

“Yes......” Meryl’s voice trailed off as a gorgeous woman strutted into her classroom like she owned the place. She carried herself with aristocratic poise and the striking red that painted her lips was as vivid as it was magnetic.

“You’re Meryl Stryfe, correct?” she asked.

“That’s me.” Meryl eyed her uniform. “And you’re on the student council.” It wasn’t a question.

“I believe this is yours.” Elendira held up Meryl’s calculator.

“Oh god, thank you.” Meryl exhaled in relief. “You’re a miracle maker.”

“Is that what you think I am?” Elendira asked.

“Personally, yes.” Meryl replied, tucking the calculator into her bag before it could run off again.

“And impersonally?” she inquired, leaning against the window.

Meryl shrugged, joining her. “Everyone’s heard about you, even in the junior high class. The best captain the fencing team’s ever had and a great student council member, an ice queen so powerful, you can get rid of even teachers with one glance.”

They watched as two students down on the courtyard fooled around with the brooms and mops that should’ve been sweeping and mopping the floors. A girl tackled her friend into a hug and another group of friends laughed uproariously at an inside joke.

“Only good things?” Elendira drawled knowingly.

“Not really. They also say you’re in some kind of trouble with someone or another. The kind that justifies not getting within 10 meters of you.” Meryl admitted.

“I suppose in the eyes of monkeys, humans are animals.” Elendira chuckled wryly.

“I’m not a monkey and I don’t think that. For what it’s worth, I’ve heard the rumours but I never believed them.” Meryl replied.

“What a good heart you have.” She cocked her hip. “From what I’ve heard, you’re also quite good with a sword.”

‘Stay calm.’ Maybe Elendira was just referring to normal fencing like a normal fencer.

“Not really. I prefer the pen since it’s mightier than the sword.” She jested, hoping she didn’t sound hysterical instead of humorous.

“I assure you, no pen is mightier than the sword you own now.” Elendira watched as the lamb stepped out of his greenhouse. “Do you know why we all covet the Geranium Bride?”

“Enlighten me.” Meryl waved at Vash who returned the gesture. She better wrap this up fast.

“Whoever the bride is engaged to will gain miraculous power. Power to revolutionize tomorrow.” She revealed.

“Would this miraculous power allow me to ace my finals without studying?” Meryl asked, only half-serious.

“Seriously though, is it worth it? The duels, the violence, the hurting, all of it over who gets to have Vash?” she asked.

It seemed the girl knew how to ask good questions too. Were good people worth becoming a worse person for? Was it worth it for a woman to use her delicate hands to carve her heart out, gore and all, to own the heart of another?

Her nails tapped in sync with her answer: it wasn’t.

“You said it. It’s a fool’s dream to try to possess the Geranium Bride.” Elendira huffed. “There’s no such thing as miracles.”

“It seems we have a mutual agreement.” Some of the weight Meryl had been unaware of eased from her chest.

Checking her watch, Meryl was startled at how much time has passed.

“I have to go.” She said, excusing herself.

Elendira watched her scurry off. Small but fast, not unlike an adorable mouse. No wonder Monev couldn’t resist toying with her.

“Excuse me.”

Turning around, Elendira was surprised to see Vash standing there, smiling like they were friends bumping into one another at the supermarket. She had assumed he’d be back in his dorm to await his owner’s return.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like you to have this.” He beamed, offering her a yellow tulip.

The stem was carefully and expertly cut, each petal as soft and bright as sunshine.

It was an (insult) eyesore.

The yellow blossom was wrenched off its stem as Elendira backhanded it out of sight and Vash out of his mind.

“You’d best run back to your owner, little lamb.” She said lowly.

He should’ve tried to stab her in the back. At least then, (it would’ve hurt less) he might’ve actually gotten away with it.

Chronica’s elegant brows furrowed a fraction deeper as she inspected the tear in her dress. No good, it was the blue one her parents specially bought for her to wear to tonight’s party since it complemented her eyes.

“You could wear this one instead.” ██████ took out a lacy white work of art that felt all the more delicate under the nails he’s yet to trim.

“But it’s not the same colour.” She pointed out.

“Not if we accessorise.” He found the accessories and jacket he was looking for with such ease that the garments may as well have materialized out of thin air.

“I didn’t even know I had these.” Chronica muttered, rubbing her thumb over a ring. “Sometimes, my closet feels like yours more than mine.”

Why did such an off-handed comment sting his heart as brutally as a well-telegraphed insult?

“What do we do about the evidence, though?” she stared morosely at the ruined dress.

The ruined, beautiful dress that must’ve felt like heaven against the wearer’s body........

“Give it to me. I know the perfect spot.”

The dress was never returned to Chronica’s closet.

“Do you believe in miracles?”

██████ blinked. “Did you gorge on too much cake again?”

“You know I hate carrot cake.” Chronica deadpanned. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“...it depends. What even is a miracle, really?” ██████’s never really given such sentimental abstract concepts much thought. Not when there were concrete goals he could feasibly reach.

“I suppose it’s things we have but can never fully explain. Like life and feelings such as happiness, sadness and, well.....”

“Love?”

The word sat between them, sudden but sure.

“Yeah.” Chronica smiled, one never practiced in a mirror. “Love.”

He intertwined their fingers together. Chronica was surprised, not by the gesture but the smooth layer of red painted over the nails.

“If I believe in miracles, will they know my feelings?” he asked.

Bringing their joined hands up to her lips, she pressed a kiss to the sharp points she never feared would scratch her.

“Yes.”

He didn’t know if that was a truth. Instead, he chose to do something infinitely worse: believe in it anyways.

“What have you done?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“██████-!”

“YOU KNOW THAT'S NOT MY NAME!”

“And I know this has gone too far! It’s one thing to steal my clothes and jewellery- yes, I knew it was you! It’s one thing to play around with makeup but this, what would your parents say?!”

She laughed, an ugly sound to hide the uglier echo of tears. “Oh they said a lot alright, thank god and good riddance are some examples.”

“You can’t do this. El, please, just. Calm down, we can fix this.” Chronica tried to placate and she didn’t understand, she didn’t need to calm her down, she needed to look at her.

“I don’t need fixing, Nicky, I am fixed! You said you knew me, knew that I was the one taking your stuff, knew that I must’ve had a reason for doing it because if I didn’t, you would’ve called me out but you didn’t. So what’s the real reason why this upsets you?” Elendira demanded.

“Because it won’t work anymore! Damn it, you vain bastard, do you honestly think we can be together now?!” Chronica slammed her fist onto the table, rattling the vase of yellow carnations.

“We can be together!” she believes that they can. She believes, has believed in it since the moment it spawned within her conscious. She’s believing, now Chronica just has to as well.

“How do you know that?” Chronica asked.

“I believe.” Elendira was never good at pleading, but by god she knew how to pray. “Chronica, please, you told me-”

“Don’t.” Chronica stepped away and oh, Elendira wished she had pushed her instead. 

“Then whatever I told you back then was a lie.”

When you're pushed, it's not the instability you fear but the inevitable landing. Elendira wasn't pushed, she wasn't off-balance; she was drowning, unable to tell up from down and Chronica was leaving her to the abyss.

“Then I hate you for that.” Elendira carved each syllable like the bloody crescents in her palms. “I hate you.”

Chronica turned away from her. She didn’t even flinch as something shattered behind her.

When she looked back, the carnations were scattered across the floor and a folded dress with a repaired skirt was left in its place.

“There, there....there, there......” Meryl yawned as Kuroneko refused to go to sleep.

Vash had gone to bed early while Meryl opted to stay up to study a bit more. Then the universe decided to drop a fussy black cat on her lap. Neither treats nor toys had soothed her so her half-asleep brain thought a quiet nightly walk would be the perfect solution.

It wasn’t turning out to be her brightest idea.

Meryl blinked as she spotted someone sitting by the fountain. In the nightly ambience, the figure looked all the more alluring in her nightgown, elegant pale locks curled around her face and bare neck.

Her identity only registered when Meryl spotted the signature red coating her lips.

“Elendira?” she gaped.

“Out for a midnight stroll, sweetheart?” Elendira smirked, skirt shifting as she crossed her long legs

“It is you. I almost didn’t recognize you outside your uniform.” Meryl hummed, taking a seat beside her.

“Oh?” she tilted her head.

“You look like a supermodel.” It wasn’t empty flattery, it was fact. On Elendira, the ruffled collar appeared dignified rather than tacky, and the shawl draped across her shoulder just so while the other end coiled around her elbow. Meryl can only imagine how many tongues would wag if they ever saw the ice queen in such a girly outfit.

“So, what brings you out here for a midnight stroll yourself? Meryl asked.

“Questions. One of them is this, why do you away wear a boy’s uniform?” Elendira asked, inspecting her nails.

“Well.....” Meryl steepled her fingers, eyes falling onto her ring. “Believe it or not, I think it’s because of the prince.”

“The prince?” Elendira echoed, flummoxed.

“When I was little, I met a prince. He said to never lose my strength or nobility, and that this will ring will lead me to him. I remember how he looked like an angel to me, so strong yet so kind. I wanted to be like him too, so I guess I wear this to be a little closer to him.”

Meryl chuckled. “Sorry, that story sounded a lot crazier than I thought it would. The point is, I don’t believe what the student council says about the Geranium Bride having some miraculous superpower. But....I do believe that we’re both linked by destiny. Maybe you could call that a miracle, even.”

She stared at her shoes. Wow, she....she hadn’t expected to open up that much. Well, if Elendira is weirded out, maybe she can pass it off as sleep deprivation.....

Meryl startled as a hand reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Elendira?” she whispered.

Elendira smiled and oh, it was one worthy of a Renaissance portrait. As her hand trailed across her shoulders, descending down the length of her bicep, Elendira leaned in closer.

Meryl swallowed at a whiff of heady perfume. Were her lips naturally that red or had she applied lipstick? Her long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings and she was close enough for Meryl to count each strand.

Then her eyes widened in horror as Elendira's hand wrapped around hers in a bone-crushing grip.

“Throw away your seal! Throw away that ring!” she snarled, lips curled back to bare canines Meryl swore were too sharp.

“What?!” she spluttered at the explosion of vitriol.

“You make me sick. ‘Nobility’? Hah! You only have it because a man you like tricked you into believing you do.” Elendira sneered, ready to rip her arm out of her socket if she has to.

The tips of Meryl's hair dipped into the fountain as she tethered precariously over the edge. Elendira was a fierce lioness but Meryl will be damned if she acts like helpless prey.

“Besides, if duelling for the Geranium Bride is foolish, then this sentimental dribble for your ‘prince’ is just as stupid, you hypocrite! The Geranium Seal isn’t meant for a girl like you!”

Meryl’s fourth finger screamed as Elendira successfully wrapped her pincer fingers around the ring, trying to force it past Meryl’s knuckles.

“NO!” Meryl howled, kicking Elendira off her. Kuroneko yowled as she was accidentally knocked off her lap. 

Meryl fought to get her breathing under control, clutching her ring hand protectively.

“This is the only link I have to him! I can’t lose it, I won’t!” she declared defiantly.

“Then show me the ‘miracle’ you talked about! I’ll claw the proof from you with my sword!” Elendira spat.

What are you doing?

Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to pluck some grapes! I’m trying and trying, but I just can’t reach! Give me a boost!

Ow! You’re too heavy!

Then let’s switch, get over here!

I can’t, I can’t, I’m still too short to reach.

Bah, forget it! Who needs sour grapes?

But I thought you really wanted them......

“I’ll repeat what I said before: if you win using a miracle, your conceit is well-deserved.” Elendira sniffed.

“Even without a miracle, I won’t lose to you!” Meryl glared, a big mouse in a world full of hawks.

As Vash pinned Meryl's geranium, Elendira noticed how his hands lingered on her, smile softening into such a doting expression, one could have mistaken it for genuine fondness. Meryl was gullible enough to do just that.

“Power of millions that sleeps within me. Heed your master and come forth!”

They did their song and dance. Elendira has always known that Vash was a perfect doll, but it seems he's an even better puppeteer, tugging just the right strings to give Meryl an illusion of control, of strength. He was a nice man like that, and had Elendira been less disgusted with Meryl’s delusions, she might’ve pitied the girl.

Elendira didn’t like nice men. They die so easily.

Bells rang in the distance. Raising the Angel Arm, Meryl launched herself towards Elendira.

The fencer parried Meryl’s attack with contemptuous ease. Meryl stumbled and when she righted herself, Elendira’s barely moved from her initial spot.

She tried again and missed again. Instead of letting her momentum do the rest, Elendira pressed her palm against Meryl’s back and pushed, hard.

Pain smarted across her jaw as she fell. Her heart sank as she realized just how much Elendira outmatched her, how she had none of Monev's weaknesses; assuming she has any at all.

“Are you alright, little prince? You really should watch your step.” Elendira tutted in saccharine concern.

Meryl had no time to be offended, not when Elendira chose to launch into the offence herself. Monev’s blows had carried a bear’s brute strength but Elendira’s had the deadly poise and speed of a leopard. Meryl’s counters to her were as effective as raindrops against an umbrella.

Meryl flinched as the rapier lunged straight for her face, only for the tip to stop a hair’s breadth from her cheek.

“Come, darling, let’s go for a stroll.” Elendira smirked.

Not a single movement was wasted and the fact that this duel was even ongoing hammered home just how much she was holding back. Sweat dripped down Meryl's neck and her arm ached from Elendira’s relentless assault.

“Poor thing, tired out already. But I don’t like playing with my food.” Elendira licked her lips, savouring the bloodlust of battle.

“Well, prince? Where’s your miracle?!” Elendira scoffed, aiming for Meryl’s geranium.

Meryl leaped away from her thrust. Leg muscles coiled tight, she sprung forward in a blurr, the Angel Arm singing with energy.

‘She’s fast!’ for the first time since this duel began, Elendira was caught off-guard by the surprise.

However……

(“Then whatever I told you back then was a lie.”)

It was no miracle.

Sparks flew as Elendira’s rapier slid across the Angel Arm’s blade. With a twist, the weapon was forced out of Meryl’s hand and sent flying into the infinite sky above.

Meryl choked as a hand wrapped around her throat before tossing her onto the ground. Coughing, she tensed, seeing Elendira’s rapier hovered over her chest.

“It’s over.” She said coolly.

And

            it

                        was.

But in a way neither of them could’ve ever predicted.

A flash of silver descended like a fallen angel, slicing through the air and Elendira’s geranium in the blink of an eye.

Elendira didn’t even flinch at the near miss on her life. Instead, she forced her neck to turn towards the Geranium Bride.

“No.” she hated how petulant that sounded. “This was just an accident. It wasn’t a miracle, it wasn’t.”

Her protest fell flat when his placid gaze met hers. There was no triumph to be found, and that only made Elendira’s defeat all the more crushing.

“One day, they’ll know your feelings for you.” Elendira’s fists clenched as Vash smiled, offering her a yellow carnation.

“Mind your own business.” She gritted and left before she gave into the temptation to claw that perfect smile off his nice face.

“So, you still won’t accept that it was a miracle?” Legato asked, flicking bread into the pond.

“Who knows? But if he really has the power to revolutionize tomorrow, then I want to take it with my own hands.” Elendira admitted, tossing bread pieces to the black swans.

“To let them finally know your hidden feelings?” dusting his hands, Legato left, already knowing the answer.

(“Then I hate you for that.”)

Yes, she did hate Chronica indeed. Not just for lying, but because she decided that love, for all its omnipotence, should only be given to nice men and perfect women.