Chapter Text

Prologue

They say Smash is for good boys and girls. For a long time, this was true. Good-hearted, family-friendly fun. Then, nobody knows quite what happened, but those days ended in the same place they began-- the Colosseum. The first reported case happened there. Kirby, of planet Pop Star. He seemed afraid at first… almost uncharacteristically paranoid. Upon being asked what was wrong, he attacked. Mario was lost that day, and others were either injured or infected. It is a day that lives in infamy.

Other cases have sprung up since then, with the game’s brightest minds working to figure out what’s going on and how to fix it. In spite of this, tragedies keep happening. People are still dying. People are still getting sick. No matter what precautions we take, it’s as if tragedy is unavoidable.

It’s every fighter for themselves, now. Spirits and bosses may not be safe either. Though immune from the actual illness, they aren’t immortal.

What used to be a haven for collaboration and friendly competition has been divided into factions, everyone fighting for survival. 

Where did the hands go? They should be able to fix this, right? They made this world, they could save it if we knew where they were.

We can’t even leave this game if we want to. Where would we even go? Would the pathogen spread if we did go somewhere else?

Pray to whatever god you believe in that you make it through this hellscape unscathed. Someone, anyone, end this madness if you can hear these pleas for help.

Chapter 1

A castle floats miles above the ground, the walls are secure. Within its walls, a man strides to his destination and enters a laboratory. Clipboard in arm, he picks up a flask and observes the preserved material within. Viruses are infamous for being fickle in preservation or observation, so it is a miracle this sample is still kicking. A shame someone had to die for these samples to be obtainable, but science does not come without sacrifices. From a medical perspective, this infection is an anomaly. Even Dracula, in all his advanced medical practices and technological advances, cannot detect samples in a victim’s blood or organs. Dracula sets the flask back in place, ties his silver hair back out of his face, and scrubs in to encounter this new test subject his forces dragged in. 

Whatever this is, it is beyond science. It is a miracle Dracula has any samples of the virus to begin with. There is only so much anyone can do in this scenario, short of genocide. Even stranger, blood has been developing in other victims. Dracula knows this hasn’t existed in the game until now… it has to be related to the virus, right?

No matter what… the mysteries of the universe must be answered, no matter how strange. I am prepared to do whatever it takes for my answers , Dracula repeats to himself as he looks over his notes.

He looks at his clipboard as he veils his fangs with a face mask. Name: Toad. Game, Mario… so it’s one of those less violent games in this tournament. White mushroom cap with red spots. Pale skin. Approximately 4 feet tall, 1.2 meters if we’re being scientific. There’s an injury from one of the infected specimens outside the castle walls. He takes a deep breath and looks to his aide, the specter of Death itself. “You made sure he’s unconscious and under anesthesia, correct?”

The spirit nods and ensures the specimen is strapped to the examination table. The vampire nods in response and takes a syringe in hand. After taking a moment to ensure his tools are clean, he draws blood, and sure enough, his blood is still deep red as opposed to black, but it shouldn’t be for long if he is allowed to live post-op. He sets the syringe aside for the sample to be put into a vial. He takes his scalpel in hand and starts to harvest from his victim.

Spores and mycelium from the cap are delicately carved from his head. Delving deeper into his head, eventually removing the full cap itself from the body, he cuts into the skull and delicately and swiftly moves the brain where it won’t quickly rot to observe its degradation outside the safety of the skull. The patient should still be aware upon being woken up. The full nervous system has been removed and is thankfully intact. In this vacuum, I should see how the virus attacks the nervous system. The eyes are removed and set in their container for further study. Dracula moves his focus to the torso, cutting down the middle and, with some help, holding the incision open with retractors. With enough effort, the ribs and sternum are removed from the body and set aside. First, the lungs are removed, as they are not needed for this study. The true prize is his heart-- it’s actually shocking this species even has a heart… though in all honesty, if it has eyes and a brain, then it likely does have a heart. Finally, the heart is removed, the victim is taken off anesthesia, and the pieces that are discarded are sent to an incinerator. 

Within a matter of hours, what’s left of the victim’s consciousness wakes up to the horror of what happened to him. “Who are you?! What did you do to me?!”

“Now, now,” Dracula speaks with an air of indifference, “No need to panic, this is for your own good.”

“Own good?!” the victim starts to quiver in his life support, “What is so good about this?”

“Would you rather suffer where you can hurt people? You’re infected, it’s better for everyone else this way,” Dracula grimaces and crosses his arms. After shaking his head, he continues, “Now. You are in this state for a very specific purpose. Your blood is currently being flowed through your nervous system with help from that machine,” he gestures. “The goal is to see how you slowly degrade over time while we have a visual of what it looks like. This is for the greater good. I recommend you get as comfortable with being a brain and spine as you reasonably can. It’s downhill from here.”

Day 1: It is the first day of this study. The subject is panicked, so this should accelerate the rate of infection. It will be placed in a secure area should the victim reach the final stage and manage to escape. I think it should be fine, given the safety measures I have in place. That’s all the notes I have for the time being. I’ll write again if something new comes up or if I notice a new development. 

Dracula leaves the area and checks to ensure he has enough food to last a while. Nope. This is to be expected, with a large army to feed and test subjects to keep alive. After shifting his cape to a hood, he takes his hunting gear and leaves the castle to hunt and gather more food in the castle.

Chapter Text

Something is terribly wrong. Ganondorf knew it the moment the triforce of wisdom appeared on his hand. This isn’t right. What could’ve happened?! Before he can ruminate on it, the voe quickly gathers the essentials for survival and leaves. He isn’t safe here. If someone with Zelda’s level of strength is gone, the goddesses only know what could happen to him.

Sword for self defense. Bow, arrows, knives for hunting. Food. Remove things that could be pulled on… as much as it hurts to remove his particularly clunky jewelry, he would rather not have them and have a better chance of survival. He replaces his earrings with topaz studs, and sets what he’s leaving behind in a safer crawlspace only he knows about.

Before leaving his game for good, he takes one last look at his home and steps through to the World of Light. He lifts a hood over his head and continues walking. He’s practically keeping eyes in the back of his head, white-knuckling his weapon. 

The rustle of bushes causes the hairs to stand up on the back of his neck and he picks up the pace. Keeping his head on a swivel. Eventually he breaks into a run. Why am I running? Is there something behind me? The screech of some poor creature is heard behind him and Ganondorf deftly dodges a tentacle jutting towards his leg. Midair, he takes aim with his bow and looses an arrow. Merely as a distraction to confuse the infected creature and buy himself time. 

Ganondorf keeps running until his lungs start to burn and his muscles ache. Did he remember water? Where am I? Everything is covered in dim moonlight. The infected is somewhere… look around, look around. In the distance he spots a castle on what appears to be a high cliff. He summons all of his strength and forces himself to run to that castle. There’s got to be someone, anyone there willing to provide shelter. At least for the night. He makes it to the edge of a cliff. He’s surrounded. He can’t fly, the castle is too high up in the sky to reach by himself. 

Turning back to the infected, Ganondorf draws his claymore and takes on a defensive stance. They clash, tentacles meeting pure Gerudo steel. He’s making sure none of them touch his skin, more focusing on making it out alive and healthy. The infected person’s swordsmanship and magic rival his own. Its joints dislocate in an attempt at catching Ganondorf off guard to properly infect. He steels himself and keeps himself calm in the face of danger. Slowly, he starts to waver and weaken, still barely managing to dodge infection. One misplaced side-step and he trips over the side of the cliff despite his trying to cling to the edge. He takes his claymore in his hands and rams it into the cliffside. Holding on for dear life, he looks up at the infected, and squints in an attempt at getting a better look. The infected towers over him and warps its figure into a horrible draconic visage. Bones crack, skin stretches and tears, eyes visibly hollow, nothing of who this creature was remains, save for his sword and spellbook.

Ganondorf’s eyes widen as he puts the pieces together. The dragon, the sword skills, the magic, even the book melted into the remains of its hand bones. The carpals have even seemingly melded into one solid mass, as if the joints all froze in time. Corrin… of all people to be bested by, it had to be them. Tentacles jettison towards his face and he manages to swing along the grip and the pommel to only scratch his armor as opposed to hitting any skin. The rocks buckle under the weight and the tentacles wrap back around to the claymore, barely even being scratched by the edge. Before he can register what’s happening, the sword is torn out of the stone, sending Ganondorf hurtling to the ground. 

Focus, and concentrate… and… now! He once again rams the claymore into the rocks, this time out of reach of the tentacles, but still concerningly far from the ground. 

Corrin stomps their feet, causing the rocks to tremble from the dragon’s gargantuan size. Ganondorf scrambles for a solid “foothold” in the stone, but he isn’t quick enough to stop the inevitable landslide. He tries to use his recovery, but to no avail. Before he can accept his fate, he looks at his hand, and the two pieces glowing. His eyebrows slightly raise and he focuses on a particularly large rock. This may be a long shot, but he can’t think of how else to save himself. In a green flash of light, he warps to the rock and stands, putting the claymore in its sheath. He stumbles a bit, almost shocked that it worked. He steels himself and, with this new ability, he quickly makes his way back up the cliff. Then, away from Corrin. However, the excess use of magic he isn’t familiar with makes him nauseated and he falls to his knees. 

He hunches over and nearly hurls, trying to steady his breathing. He rolls onto his side the moment he catches a tentacle in his peripheral vision. The clang of his armor confirms he hasn’t been stung, and he moves out of the way. He fights back his nausea and starts to army crawl to a tree, and before he can prop himself back up, Corrin’s sword is sent hurtling straight into the tree with enough force to tear it from the roots. The book glows and lightning hurtles towards him. Ganondorf does manage to stay standing long enough to shield himself using his newfound piece, sending Corrin backwards from the reflected spell. He falls backwards and realizes he’s probably out of chances to save himself as a tentacle flies directly towards his face. Then he nods, shuts his eyes and prepares to accept what feels inevitable.

When he doesn’t feel himself get hit, he glances up. Someone had come to his defense. He barely registers what’s going on before Corrin is sent hurtling kilometers away. The stranger offers a hand up, and finally speaks, “Are you hurt?”

Ganondorf accepts the help, not exactly being in a situation where he can deny it. “I’ve,” he hesitates, “been worse. I don’t think I was stung at all.”

The other person does a quick look-over, checking for stings. He takes a moment to closely inspect the scratches as if taking a moment to smell the blood. He holds his mouth open for a few moments and shakes his head. Then, he clears his throat. “All clear. Must be a stroke of luck then. Worst I can see are some light cuts, and symptoms of nausea.”

They both take a moment to compose themselves.

The vampire stands up straight, hiding his hands behind his back. “Where are my manners? My name. Vlad Dracula Tepes, at your service.”

Ganondorf brushes off the dust as best he can, and replies, “Ganondorf Dragmire.”

“I suppose my next question would be, what on Earth are you doing all the way out here?” Dracula hauls a bundle nearly thrice his size over his shoulder and looks at Ganondorf expectantly.

“Aside from escaping Corrin? I was looking for safety,” he shows the two parts of the triforce on his hand and continues, “I’m not sure of the status of other fighters from my game, but this part is concerning. So, I chose to leave.” Before Ganondorf can continue, he comes to a realization and his whole body stiffens. There are two Zeldas in this game. Sheik and the younger looking one. Shouldn’t she get the other piece? But they’re from different timelines? Does this imply multiple triforces? If so, which one is dead? It could be either of them. Ganondorf winces and holds his hand to his forehead. “Curse my aching head…”

Dracula sighs and sweeps hair from his face. “I think I understand what you’re saying, at least. You didn’t feel safe so you left.”

“Yes,” Ganondorf seethes, leaning against the tree’s roots in a meager attempt at easing the nausea and headache.

Dracula raises a hand, and with merely a gesture, the castle lowers to a reasonable level. Then he steps onto the property and offers a hand. 

Ganondorf takes a few moments to weigh his options… if there were any. It’s better than being out here exposed to the elements… and he’d have plenty of resources. Finally, he answers, “If you’ll have me.” When he steps forward, Ganondorf stumbles a bit, using his claymore as a makeshift cane. The vampire looks at him with pity, and has someone else take the massive bundle off his shoulder. Dracula then approaches, and lets Ganondorf lean on his shoulder. Slowly, the two enter the castle, and Dracula gets Ganondorf to lay in a bed for the time being while the castle is lifted back into the sky. He takes a couple tablets of ibuprofen, crushes them in a mortar and pestle, and then dissolves them in electrolytic water. Once offered the drink, Ganondorf downs the entire glass in one go and lays back down.

Ever so tenderly, Dracula tends to his guest’s wounds, ensuring he has everything he needs. Then he returns to stabilizing the food situation in the castle, starting with a good sized Eurasian brown bear to get the largest kill processed before the meat spoils rendering it inedible. Not an easy hunt by any means, but it means more food for everyone else in the castle. He clasps the hind paws into the gimbal attached to the ceiling and rolls up his sleeves. Then he ties his hair back out of his face and takes a knife out of the block. He then proceeds to tear the arrow out of he body, checking to make sure no splinters of the wooden shaft are left behind. Following this, he extracts the insert and arrowhead left in the meat.

He first slits the animal’s throat and gathers the blood that drains from the open wound. It takes a solid hour for the blood to run dry from the wound. Dracula then continues the cut perpendicular to the gash in the throat. He then sets the blade aside and uses a gut hook to continue the incision, and follows it up with a secondary cut, careful to not pierce the stomach lining. He gathers the viscera and has one of his lesser vampires move the organ meat to a smokehouse or to be dried for later consumption. Once the bear is gutted out, he focuses on removing the pelt of the bear, careful to not nick any tendons keeping the cadaver attached to the gimbal, especially with his razor sharp claws. With the head and skin removed, he sets the pelt aside for one of his employees to turn into a coat or cloak to protect their guest from the cold. With the meat exposed, he cleans the blood off his body and adjusts his sleeves.

He moves down to the front paws and using the saw, he hacks them off, tossing them to the nearest hellhounds as a reward for helping him with hunting. Then he removes the front legs with minimal effort, followed by the shoulders. With the arms bisected and removed from the cadaver, he strips the meat from the bones with a simple knife, giving the bones to one lesser demon for processing into broths, remouillage, or adding into flour. The bones that can’t be used will go on the pile and be used for necromancy. Another lesser demon processes one arm and shoulder into ground meat and stuffing into a sausage casing. Then they place the meat in the smokehouse after adding a rub of basic seasoning and light brining where appropriate. He takes the time to remove the chest and side meat and sends it away to salt cure and eventually smoke with the rest of the pieces. He then uses the saw to cut the ribs off the spine, taking care to carve away the entry wound from the arrow and extract the fragments of bone. Finally, he removes the neck meat and the loins, letting the lesser demon process the remainder of the body.

In a matter of hours, the rest of the prey was processed and preserved to be eaten later. With the most difficult aspect complete, Dracula ventures to the gardens, where plants that are easily cultivated are being farmed. What can’t be farmed is foraged by smaller and quicker monsters in groups of five or more at a time. The primary focus is on cereal crops such as wheat and rye, as well as potatoes as a basic starch, sunflower seeds, tomatoes for vital acids and vitamins, and apples with the same purpose. Among these basic ingredients are also plums, grapes, rapeseed, cabbage, and finally sugar beets. Each with their own explicit purpose for small scale farming operations, alongside the growing of medicinal plants and especially poppies for their seeds. After ensuring everyone is doing as ordered, he checks stock on his forageables. I’ll need more urzica, stevie… maybe leruda, we have plenty of papadia given the amount of weeds that spring up in the gardens. Could use more wild mushrooms, too, the meat will only last so long before being eaten or going bad. Berries too, since if I cultivate them here, they’ll take over the entire estate. Can’t have that, there has to be some room for pig farming and training, not just agriculture. He jots down what is needed and sends his ravens to retrieve them. 

Finally, he has some down-time. As such, he chooses to check on Ganondorf. Upon entering the room, Dracula finds him sound asleep. The poor man must be so exhausted. He drapes blankets over his sleeping guest, and leaves him be to attend to other matters.

Chapter Text

A group of teenagers is seen running desperately from an infected. Gunshots ring in their ears, but the bullets ultimately do nothing to the orb chasing them. Their leader turns to look at the infected and shouts, “Go, Arsene! Megidolaon!”

The magic sends the orb back a fair distance back, buying the group more time to slow to a walk and rest for a moment. 

“What a hassle, man…” Skull groans as he leans against a tree. He then combs his bleached hair with his fingers and adjusts the harness around his waist. He continues, “Shouldn’t this place be less… destroyed and infected and shit?”

Joker straightens his coat and looks over. A cat pokes its head out of his bag.

 “It shouldn’t be,” he remarks. “There’s a reason being here is such a high honor, and it isn’t because it’s a zombie apocalypse simulator.”

“Mona. Peanut Gallery. I didn’t ask you,” Retorts Skull, now more annoyed than afraid.

Mona hisses, “You asked, Skull! I bet if I poured milk into your head, it’d sound like rice krispies!”

“Shut the Hell up,” Skull snaps, “and get better material. I’ve heard better insults from a bowl of Tokyo-style ramen!”

Mona hops out of his little bag and gets in Skull’s face by holding onto the nearby tree. “You stole that from Punchbop, you’re as creative as you are stupid,” Mona jeers, starting to laugh at his own jokes. 

Before things can escalate, Joker scoops up his cat and separates the two. He then looks over at the group’s primary navigator, known as Oracle. She’s currently fixing up her transport vehicle. 

“Is everything going to be ok, Oracle?” He asks, trying to hold a conversation while wrangling Mona back into his bag.

“Should be okay. I just need to update a few systems, and it should be fully operational.” Oracle then opens the hatch and taps the screen a couple of times. “Sophie? Are you doing okay in there?” 

“Affirmative, Sakura. Everything is okay on my end,” Sophia smiles, as if unaware of what’s going on.

Oracle sighs, annoyed, “Soph, you forgot to use our codenames again.”

“Sorry, Oracle. Force of habit.”

The sun is starting to set, and Queen stands a bit closer to Joker, eventually latching onto his arm. He looks over and holds her close, giving her a gentle kiss on her head. He murmurs so she can only really hear, “Love you.” In response, she just holds on to him tighter, nuzzling his shoulder.

The group starts to settle when screeches and cries can be heard in the distance. Joker turns in the general direction and takes the dagger strapped to his right calf in his hands. 

“Joker?” Skull shivers, carefully reaching for the lead pipe strapped to his back.

“I heard something. Be on your guard,” Joker orders, shifting the dagger in his hands. Eventually, he places the fuller in his other hand, keeping the edge away from his fingers. Soft singing can be heard in the surrounding area and Joker gestures for the others to cover or plug their ears, and his eyes glisten in a shade of blue, his mask almost resembling a butterfly for a moment. He looks around, only to stumble back with a silhouette with the reddest outline he’s ever seen. In the darkness, he sees its gaping maw, unhinged and broken at the lower jaw. Eyes more hollow than anything he’s ever seen, once curly fur a ragged and patchy mess. The only evidence of it being here is its teeth and raw skin glistening in the moonlight. In as calm a voice as he can, he only says, “Run.”

Without another word, Oracle starts up her transport, and with Queen, zooms off ahead of the others. They give chase, to try and get to the transport in time to avoid being torn apart. 

One at a time, each thief manages to make it on board, until the only ones left are Joker, Mona, Skull, and Crow. Skull trips on a tree root and hits his leg but manages to scramble to his feet and catch up with the others. Joker looks back at him and chucks Mona to the others. Then he runs back to make sure Skull is alright despite the risk of infection. 

“I’m fine, man, just go!” Skull shouts, attempting to turn back to buy the others time.

Joker grabs his arm and pulls him away in response. “Oh, no you don’t!”

The three continue to run, even with Skull’s injury. They’re running out of time, someone needs to slow down and face the abomination. 

Joker looks between Skull and Crow. I don’t even WANT Crow here, but he insisted on being here, Joker thinks. Once Skull notices Joker giving Crow the stink eye, a thought occurs to him. The two friends look at each other and nod. Skull then takes his lead pipe and without a second thought, bashes in one of Crow’s knees. Immediately afterwards, Joker shoots out one of his feet and runs with Skull in tow. He takes the time to get Skull in the transport first, then jumps in himself while flipping Crow the bird. 

Despite their efforts, Crow did still make it onto the ship. A good kilometer or so off the ground, Joker simply grabs Crow by the shirt and attempts to push him out. The man still manages to hold on to the edge, trying to climb back in. In response, Joker stomps on one of his hands, and Queen stomps on the other. They simultaneously kick his hands off the edge, sending him hurtling to his inevitable death.

Chapter Text

The main hatch is shut and everyone sits wherever they can without damaging anything. Joker finally asks, “How is everyone doing?”

After a moment of silence, Noir is the first to speak, “I’m actually better than earlier,” she chuckles, “Kind of hard to feel nervous when someone like Crow is kicked out a la Monsters LLC.”

Oracle nearly chokes on her cola, and has to set her drink down while laughing. She can barely keep her voice steady while she continues to chortle, “I was wondering when someone was gonna bring it up,” she finally takes a deep breath and continues, “I’m alright though, really. Just happy we can all fit in here. I don’t think I could handle being the reason most of us couldn’t make it.”

Skull does the T-Rex arms and squints. He jeers, taking on a Minnesota accent, “We’ll take good care of da kid, don't-cha know!” and he laughs to himself. “In all seriousness, I’m fine. Leg’s seen worse days, it could’ve been the immediate aftermath of fighting Kamoshida.”

“Alright, cute bit, everyone. But isn’t Crow’s death on anyone’s conscience?” Panther finally asks.

The entire ship is silent for a good few seconds before everyone else replies perfectly in sync, “Nah.”

Panther crosses her arms, and sighs, “Just checking to see if I should feel guilty.”

Fox raises his hand, “If I may have the talking stick for a moment. I only feel guilty for finding amusement in it. As satisfying as it was, I do feel bad for thinking it’s funny. Overall, I’m alright. I think that can be said for everyone though…” he pauses, “aside from Crow’s potentially mutilated cadaver.”

“Want to poke your head out and check?” Queen asks, leaning in.

“Heavens, no.”

Skull tilts his head, “Is this your attempt at a joke? Because it fell flat.” he then does a rimshot gesture. Fox starts to laugh at the horrible pun while everyone else collectively groans in exasperation.

“Hey, at least Fox found it funny,” Skull huffs, crossing his arms. 

“My systems indicate that he may just be being nice, as seen with--” Sophie chimes in, only for Fox to put her on mute.

“I did find humor in it, that’s all there is, really,” he rushes to clarify, while Sophie tries to unmute herself.

When she does finally unmute herself, she continues her sentence, “AS I WAS SAYING. As seen with Queen frequently laughing at Joker’s attempts at humor.”

Panther is quick to point out, “To be fair, he is pretty funny.”

Sophie simply shrugs and relaxes.

Oracle is deftly steering the UFO, while the rest of the Phantom Thieves relax and talk among themselves. She spins in her chair to check different aspects of the ship. She’s quiet, “Soph. Mechanical systems?”

“Unchanged,” Sophia monotones.

“Engine temperature?”

“Unchanged.”

“Party Status?”

“Unchanged.”

“Oxygen Levels?”

“Unchanged.”

Oracle nods and puts the ship on autopilot. She takes a book out of the glove compartment and leans back to read. She zones into the book, absorbed in its details. In about an hour, Skull leans on her chair and reads over her shoulder. 

The room is filled with beeps and blips. Indistinct chatter between friends. Turning pages, whirring machines, the place is dimly illuminated by screens and the softest LED bulbs. The near magic of the serenity in the face of chaos is soothing, and it causes Oracle’s mind to wander. Tales of love and loss, characters so impossible they could only exist within the pages and panels of her book. Then the blaring distant in her ear. It’s probably nothing, she tells herself.

Then it keeps blaring.

And blaring.

And blaring. 

Until Skull finally yanks the book down and gestures to the flashing light on the dashboard. The transport has identified something. She sits up in her chair, and taps at her keyboard until the camera feed pops up in front of her. Someone on the ground, clearly in danger. She turns in her chair to see if anyone else is seeing this.

Joker softly shakes his head, stands up, and gestures for the rest of Team A to follow him. “Thanks for letting us know, Soph,” he says before proceeding to open the hatch and use the retractable ladder to reach the ground safely.

Upon doing so, he sees a shorter kid managing to hold his own against an infected and jumps to their defense. With a swift use of Blood Bath, the infected is not only pushed back, but also frightened. To take advantage of this, he uses Ghastly Wall, reducing the infected to a pile.

“Dude! Wait up, you’ll die down… there..?” Skull shouts in a meager attempt at stopping him. He too goes down the ladder trying to catch up. 

Fox and Queen then look between each other, and he gestures for her to go first. Once she reaches the ground, he follows and lands on the tip of his toes. 

When the other three make it to Joker, they stare at the body confused. They aren’t supposed to die. Something’s off. 

The kid checks his arms for any stings and brushes off the dust, slinging his boxing gloves over his shoulder. “Thanks for that…” he murmurs. He then pushes his hair out of his face. Joker stares stunned, not anticipating that voice from someone just over half his height. “Little Mac..” he lowers his voice, mumbling, “brick out here, isn’t it?” Then he raises his voice again, “The- the little part is a stage name.”

“They call me Joker,” he replies, deeply bowing, only to be puzzled when Mac is holding his hand out. 

The two stare at each other, both with furrowed brows and Mac scratches his cheek for a moment. He then raises his eyebrows and bows in return, then offers his hand again. This time, Joker does return the handshake. 

“These three are Skull, my girlfriend Queen, and Fox, the gay one.”

Fox scoffs at the statement, though still respectful when greeting Little Mac.

“Lit. So where are yooz headed anyway?” Mac questions, trying to keep eye contact.

Skull looks blank at the kid, and wonders, “...the fuck is yooz?”

Little Mac scratches the back of his head, “Sorry. It basically means you four… we use it a lot back home.”

“Bet you call fries ‘potato jeremys,’ too, don’t you? Where the fuck are you from?” Skull demands, prodding Mac’s forehead.

In retaliation, Mac right-hooks Skull in the side and composes himself. “Bronx,” he answers, “New York City. Sorry for hooking you, by the by. I didn’t wanna take it there.”

Skull takes a moment to process and steps back a bit. He hesitates, “You know what, I don’t think I want to know what taking it there means.”

Queen looks Little Mac up and down, then asks, “How old are you, anyway? Not to be rude but you look like you belong in middle school.”

“Middle school-?!” he snaps. “I’ll have you know I am deeply insecure about my height as is! I’m seventeen.”

“Sorry. I- I- I didn’t mean to be offensive--” Queen stammers, trying to de-escalate things. Then she looks at Skull. Don’t you dare start with the short jokes.

“Real talk though, where ARE yooz goin’?” Mac asks again while he tightens the bandages and sports tape around his fists.

A moment of silence is shared between the main team, only for each of them to shrug.

“Somewhere away from those things, I suppose,” Joker cautions, kicking away the body. It seems to twitch from the movement, but that could’ve been anything. 

“Can I go with? It isn’t exactly easy facing them alone.”

Joker rests his hand on his chin, and starts to weigh his options. “Why not?”

“Say less, you won’t regret this,” Little Mac sighs, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Joker flags down the transport, and it starts to make its way down to pick the five up. Little Mac looks back at the body, and steps back a little bit. He raises his fists to his face and hunches slightly, his eyes shifting between the floor and the body. Once Joker notices, he feels hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and slowly turns, only to stumble backwards. 

Skin starts to stretch beyond what is humanly possible, joints popping out of their sockets, teeth sharpening, the proportions are shifting until the creature is nearly 2.4 meters tall. He’s so thin his bones are visible. Separated, yes, but visible. His vertebrae are even in chunks along its back, calling into question how he’s able to stay standing. Tendons and muscle stretched to their absolute limits, to the point where the skin is tearing apart and in some places only patches of it remain. It screeches, and raises one of its arms, then slams it down at a 45 degree angle, unleashing 3 consecutive bursts of energy that the others only barely manage to avoid. The other hand has warped into a snake, which lashes out in an attempt at grabbing the group.

Thinking quickly, Queen whips out her Judge End and opens fire. While it doesn’t harm the infected, it does distract him. Joker tries to plan a way out of this, only for Queen to set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Hey… go on without me, ok? I’ll give you guys covering fire,” She instructs, trying to press her lips tight and her hands steady.

Joker raises his eyebrows and his skin goes pale as he realizes what she’s really trying to do.

“Queen,” he trembles, trying to keep it together, “Don’t do this. It’s suicide. If you’re doing this, I’m going in with you.”

“Don’t. You’ll only get infected when worse comes to worse.”

“Joker’s right,” Fox chimes in.

This nearly gives Joker a glimmer of hope until Fox takes his sword in his hands and stands at her side. “I’m going with you. The rest of you go on ahead and get Little Mac to safety,” he prompts them to leave. 

Skull and Joker were too stunned to speak.

“You two promise you’ll be okay. Got it?” Joker demands, clenching his hands into fists and trying to fight back tears.

Makoto tilts her head slightly and hugs him tight, kissing his cheek. Her voice is soft, though shaky, “I’ll be okay, Ren. Just… go without us.” She then steps back and holds his hands. “If I don’t make it, remember that I love you. Please trust me when I say I’d rather die buying you time than all of us dying trying to escape.”

Joker can’t even bring himself to protest. He simply nods and kisses her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Fox looks at the two, then at Skull, and he puts the sword away. Gazing into his eyes, and holding up his hands to resemble a picture frame. Then he approaches, and holds his hands to his chest,

“...what’s gotten into you…?” Skull splutters, not sure what’s going on.

“I have something to tell you before we part ways. I’m grateful for the experiences that led to me meeting you,” Fox expresses, taking Skull’s hands in his.

Skull tilts his head and admits sheepishly, “I… don’t know what that means. Can you… use smaller words please?”

Fox smiles, and nods. “What I’m trying to say,” he enunciates, “Ai. Shi. Te. Ru, Ryuji.” He punctuates each syllable by pointing at Skull.

After taking a moment to process, Skull’s eyes widen and his face turns pink, not quite knowing what to do with this information. Before he can respond, Fox shoves a sketchbook and pencil into his hands, and kisses him. Without another word, Fox and Queen turn to face the monster, while Joker, Skull and Little Mac make their escape with the time they have.

Just before closing the hatch, Joker looks back at the two, and is helpless to stop the creature from tearing them apart. Finally, he lets himself cry out in despair, “NO!” and he shuts the hatch behind him. He sits on the floor in the corner, holds his knees to his chest, and cries.

Ryuji holds the items in his arms, dumbstruck and confused. 

The entire vessel is in a vigil, the silence only broken by blips and beeps and the whirring of machines. Mona sees Joker in his state of despair and sits next to him, nuzzling past his arms and between his legs and chest. Then, he purrs, kneading Joker’s coat. 

Hours lapse until the vessel starts to run out of fuel, and it starts hurtling to the ground. Thinking quickly, Joker transfers Sophie to his phone, and the rest of the thieves make their escape, watching as the UFO crashes in the woods. Then, they all look between each other, then turn around. They’re met with a giant castle in the sky… it may be their best shot. They notice a well placed pillar and take their grappling hooks in their hands. Then debate how they plan on getting Oracle and Little Mac onto the surface. Joker then Little Mac under his arm, and Panther lets Oracle hold on to her. They manage to make their way onto the estate, and push the doors open, half expecting to be met with some resistance. 

A voice echoes through the foyer, “Well, well. Would you look at that? A group of teenagers seeking sanctuary in my castle.”

Joker looks around until he spots two glowing red eyes in the shadows. Then, someone emerges, roughly 2 meters tall if rounded up. Silver hair, red eyes, relatively fancy attire. “Who-- who are you?” he starts to shiver, slowly reaching for the pistol strapped to his hip.

“Now, now, no need for violence at the moment,” the castle’s master circles the group, as if checking for injuries or weapons. He continues, “My name is Vlad Dracula Tépeş, and trust me when I say, I am not going to hurt any of you. I presume you’re all here to take shelter from the infected outside these walls.”

“Y-yes,” Joker affirms, trying to keep his voice level.

“You lot are welcome here all the same,” Dracula all but declares, gesturing to the greater castle. “There are plenty of spare rooms and we have plenty to eat.”

“What’s the catch?” Skull finally speaks up, taking his lead pipe as if ready for a brawl.

“How would I benefit from harming any of you? You all outnumber me..” he pauses to do a rough head count, “...roughly 8 to one,” he retorts, crossing his arms.

“The only real catch would probably be just… following your house rules?” Noir inquires, pushing Skull’s weapon down until it’s finally put away.

Dracula nods in confirmation and leads the group to a lot of spare sleeping areas, then shows them where the medical wing is located, and where the kitchen is. He takes care to note that the specific freezer that is labeled in… what seems to be latin… is off limits. Joker decides, I don’t want to know what’s in there anyway.

Without much hesitation, everyone picks their room, and starts getting settled in. Joker takes the time to help Oracle set up a new computer terminal in the room she chose, complete with a portable router. It is almost concerning how many spare computer parts, including a spare PC and hard drive, she manages to carry with her. He tries to help as best he can, but his mind always returns to losing Queen and Fox. He slouches against a wall and stares out into space, hoping that their losses won’t be in vain.

Chapter Text

A girl and her dragon have been wandering the woods for days. Probably even weeks. It feels like they’re going in circles. She looks up at her charizard and he returns her gaze. Her stomach growls, but she instead takes her water bottle and drinks until the feeling goes away. She does have food… but not a lot of it, and she’s saving it for her friend. She’d cut chunks of herself off to feed him if she felt she had to… it thankfully hasn’t gotten to that point yet. Her body starts to shake again, and she has to lean against Charizard just to keep her balance. Usually these dizzy spells don’t last very long.

Then, she faints, and Charizard has to catch her before she hits the ground. Quickly, he roots through her bag, eats what food is left, and takes flight with her in tow. Maybe… maybe he’ll find help.

He is in the air for hours at a time, still having to stop to hunt and drink. Until he finds a castle in the sky and lands in the courtyard. He breaks down the doors, looking around for someone who can help. He spots someone and approaches, with a pleading look in his eyes.

Ganondorf looks first at Charizard, then at the girl, and he becomes visibly worried. He takes her off the dragon’s hands, and makes haste towards the castle laboratory. He uses his shoulder to open the door and he shouts, “Dracula!”

The vampire nearly jumps out of his skin and turns in his chair. He wraps up his notes for the day, and covers the test subject with a sheet. Then he stands and hastens towards the three. “What?” he demands, “Tell me what happened.”

Ganondorf simply gestures his head towards the girl. “Leaf. She’s out cold and feels like a feather in my arms,” he sputters, trying to keep his speaking slow enough to be understandable. His face is practically frozen in its expression. 

Dracula quickly levitates away, gesturing for the others to follow. They are led to a room with hospital beds, and he gestures to one of them. With a nod, Leaf is placed in it, and Dracula starts to gauge the situation. He takes a stethoscope, and checks her heartbeat. Unu, doi, trei, patru, cinci, șase, șapte, opt, nouă, zece, unsprezece, doisprezece, treisprezece, paisprezece, cincisprezece. It’s been fifteen seconds. Multiplied by four? Dracula’s face freezes, and he hunches over a bit, trying again to make sure he did this right, this time for 30 seconds and doubling it. He tries to keep his voice level, “Her heart rate is concerningly low. Combined with her weight and sunken in appearance, this makes sense.”

Without much deliberation, he focuses on making sure she doesn’t fall into a coma… worst case scenario, she doesn’t make it. Shouldn’t be difficult. I have two options to start getting nutrients into her system. She could be out for a while, so I need to be prepared for her becoming comatose. I want this to be as simple as possible, so in spite of her heart rate… while he continues to consider the possibilities of how this could go wrong, he prepares an IV, placing it in her hand.

“This will gradually reintroduce nutrients to her body in a way that won’t cause complications,” he explains, hooking her up to an EKG.

It has been a week or so since. Finally, her eyes start to flutter open, blinded by the lights. The cold air against her skin and the blankets covering her body. The textures are off, the lights are too bright, what are those noises, why are there so many, what is wrong with my hand, everything hurts. Her breathing gets faster until she spots her charizard, dutifully resting his head in her lap. She carefully sets her hand on his head, and focuses on the scales. Their bumpy texture and relative warmth compared to the rest of the room. Breathe in… ichi… ni… san… shi . Breathe out… ichi… ni… san… shi . She repeats this pattern in her head until she finally properly looks around. First at her hand, with the IV drip. Then the EKG.

“You brought me here, didn’t you?” she whispers, so only Charizard can hear. The dragon simply nods. A vampire quickly stumbles in, visibly worried. Only to relax seeing that Leaf isn’t having heart complications.

“Chaos on the rocks, you actually managed to scare me,” Dracula takes a moment to calm down and continues, “are you alright?”

“I think so. I panicked when I woke up.”

Dracula takes a moment to look around. The lights, sounds, textures. “That certainly would be overwhelming to wake up to. I’m assuming I don’t have to introduce myself?”

“How could anyone not recognize you, Dracula? We’ve seen your boss fight.”

Dracula simply nods, internally kicking himself. How was I supposed to know Ganondorf recognized me?! I mean I don’t even know if we properly met but… it’s genuinely embarrassing.

“Dracula?” Leaf asks, waving a bit. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” he manages to speak clearly. “Anyway,” he punctuates by putting the nearby stethoscope around his neck. Then he continues, “I’m only going to be checking your vitals right now to see if you’re cleared to wander the rest of the castle. Do you think you can stand on your own?”

Leaf properly sits up, and after being disconnected from the IV and EKG, is carefully helped to her feet. Once she is sure she can balance without aid, she is told to step onto the scale. Waiting, waiting, Dracula keeps his eye on the numbers. 31.4 kilos. Still underweight for her age but it’s better. Height is unchanged, 136.9 centimeters. With a nod, Leaf steps off the scale, sits back on the hospital bed and waits while Dracula measures her other vitals. 

“So?”

“So, your vitals have… mostly stabilized from the week of nutrients being injected into your bloodstream. It will still take time to completely return to normal. Let alone develop proper eating habits. Your weight is still below average, but this can be improved over time. Basically, you are cleared to leave the medical wing and claim a room to stay in,” Dracula lectures, finally finishing by signing off on a sheet of paper. 

“...you’re letting Charizard and I stay.”

“Naturally.” Dracula sets the clipboard aside and stands up straight with his hands behind his back. “Of course it’s not like I feel some form of obligation to protect you. I just want to continue observing you and your recovery. It’s safer in here than out there anyway.” 

Dracula then takes his leave. Leaf and Charizard exchange glances, stand up, and explore the castle until the guest rooms are found. I guess I’m not the only kid he’s let live in this castle. Meekly, she approaches Joker, recognizing him first. 

Joker looks down, and jokes, “Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”

Leaf simply scoffs and crosses her arms. She even goes the extra mile and puffs out her cheeks.

“I’m messing with you. In all seriousness, glad you’re safe. You scared… pretty much everyone else here. Nice seeing you walk around,” Joker chuckles a bit, tousling her hair.

“Do you know what rooms are empty?” Leaf asks.

“That one I know for sure is empty,” he explains, pointing to a door.

“Thank you. Excuse me,” Leaf apologizes, and excuses herself from the conversation with a bow. Then she and charizard settle into the room.

Chapter Text

Day 1

Ganondorf finally manages to get out of bed… but with it being freezing in the room, it’s difficult. He wraps himself in the bearskin cloak Dracula gave him in an attempt at keeping himself warm. Then he goes to the castle’s library. He isn’t here… He moves past the books, and enters the attached laboratory. There, he finds Dracula facing… something. He gets closer, and it… is something that can best be described as the closest a living thing can get to being a corpse without being dead. He finds himself slack-jawed and confused. 

Dracula looks over. “A medical marvel, isn’t it?” he hums, signing off on his notes. 

The voe was too stunned to speak. “I… How? He can’t have all his organs in there, can he?”

“He doesn’t. It takes a lot of care and machinery to keep the subject alive. Including making sure blood reaches the remainder of the nervous system since that’s probably all he has left short of his skin, eyes and skeleton. Regardless, every system needs oxygen to keep working properly. In short, this was done very carefully,” Dracula explains. The body is whisked away into some obscure part of the castle, and he puts the clipboard onto a peg in the wall. Hands hidden behind his back, he leans forward slightly as if expecting Ganondorf to say something. When he doesn’t get a response, he turns back to his vials and flasks for experimentation. “Why are you here, anyway?”

Ganondorf adjusts his cloak. “I was looking for you. Wondered if you needed help,” he replies. 

The vampire stops what he’s doing and carefully turns. He gives a bit of a look. Glances up and down. Then he shrugs and finishes this batch of antiviral medicine. He carefully drips some of it into the vial with the infected sample. Minimal reaction. The medicine does react with the virus properly, but it can’t do much. Not good enough. It needs to be stronger. He puts the batch and the sample away in the nearest freezer, then looks at Ganondorf properly.

Ganondorf shifts his eyes to the floor then back at him. Dracula then nods, and starts towards the exit, gesturing as if to say “follow me”. Quickly, he catches up. Once outside, the cold hits him like a knife to the back. He flinches and tries to huddle under the cloak.

Dracula then looks back over, and… Did he just smile? “Alright, I can see you have all the cold tolerance of mosquito larvae, but this should be quick.” He leads the way to the smokehouse, and lets Ganondorf in first. He takes a poker off the wall, and prods at the fire for a minute. The pile of wood promptly sinks a bit, with half of it being reduced to ash. Looking over, then tilting his head in the direction of the fire.

Without another word, the gerudo steps out of the smokehouse and goes around the corner to get firewood. Dracula looks out, as if shocked he understood. With a shrug, he resumes tending to the meat being hung inside and ensuring the fire is still burning. Then, he takes a good sized deer shoulder off its hook and checks on Ganondorf. His eyes visibly widen. He mutters, “Al dracului să fiu.” Then he clears his throat to get the voe’s attention. “I don’t know if that’s enough firewood,” he jests, trying to stop himself from laughing. Frankly it’s equally humorous and impressive how quickly he managed to chop that much wood. It’s admirable, really.

He watches as Ganondorf gathers a rough armful of firewood and makes sure they are gradually placed in the smokehouse’s fire pit. Then he leads the voe to the kitchen. First, the two wash their hands. Then he sets the deer shoulder on a cutting board, and retrieves a chilled stash of handmade phyllo.

Then, he points to the meat grinder and asks, “Do you know how to use that specific kind of meat grinder?”

“Yeah? It’s not exactly rocket science. I’m not a caveman.”

“Good,” Dracula replies, punctuating with chopping the shoulder into chunks. Then placing the pieces in a bowl and providing a second, larger container. He places the items in Ganondorf’s hands and orders, “Then I don’t need to tell you what to do.”

Said meat grinder is bolted to the counter, with its handle worn down from centuries of use and repair. One would wonder if it’s even the same meat grinder as it was back in the Victorian Era. Place the empty container at the end of the meat grinder… good. Ganondorf nods and stretches his hands. Then he slowly but surely starts reducing the venison into ground meat. Though, Ganondorf does notice something in the corner of his eye. That weird-ass cat from last night. Kept pouncing on my feet. He points two of his fingers at his eyes, then at the cat.

 Dracula hovers around, getting other ingredients and preparing them. Spices… there. Garlic bulbs? Contrary to popular belief, not harmful. Scapes are on thin ice. Tomatoes? Wait, I’m pretty sure I have some tomato paste to spare. There it is. Onions? Okay. there’s everything else I need. Without another moment of deliberation, He starts by removing the cloves from the bulb. Then he crushes and chops them up. Setting them to the side, he roughly chops the onions.

Ganondorf only barely turns his head for a minute then notices Mona getting closer. Then the cat very slowly stalks closer to the counter, and jumps up. Then he sits. Slowly making his way to the bowl of venison chunks. “Psst!” Ganondorf sibilates, trying to stop the cat from stealing a piece. Morgana holds out his little paw, and swats at the bowl until it nearly falls over the edge. “NO!” he shouts, quickly moving the bowl back in place, giving Morgana the perfect opportunity to steal a chunk.

The gerudo immediately grabs the cat, trying to pry his mouth open. “Give it…” he exasperates, only to be met by growling. Mona does manage to slip out of Ganondorf’s arms, but is then grabbed by the scruff. The two keep tugging at the chunk of meat. Dracula turns, needing to check his recipe, but wanting to watch the shitshow unfold. Joker walks in trying to find his cat, and decides to at least help Dracula while Ganondorf is preoccupied dealing with Mona.

Dracula looks over at Joker and simply nods, then back at the shitshow at hand. It takes a good 5 minutes until Ganondorf finally retrieves the chunk of deer meat, but not without some nasty scratches and by some strange miracle, a black eye. By then, Joker had finished the ground venison. Dracula asks, “Joker, could you kindly tend to him? There’s a first aid kit in that drawer. No, other one. That one. That’s it. Thank you.”

Then he takes the piece of venison. …well obviously it’s been in Mona’s mouth, so we can’t cook with it. Dracula’s ears perk up, and he takes a small plate. Then on a separate, clean cutting board he cuts up the piece until it’s a fine paste. He scoops it onto the plate and spreads it a bit. Now a good portion of bone broth, a pinch or so of pollen. I could’ve sworn I had some rabbit organs in the freezer? He turns and checks, then grabs the ones he sees, and places some of them on the plate. Finally, a small fish he found in the fridge. He sets the plate on the ground, and returns to what he was doing after starting to preheat the oven. Mona sniffs at the food for a moment, then immediately starts to scarf down.

“I am never going back to canned food after this!” he proclaims, not caring that his mouth is full.

Joker simply sighs and shakes his head. When he finishes tending to Ganondorf he looks over at Dracula. “Thanks for feeding Mona. I was nearly running out of cat food,” he trails off, now wondering where he’ll get more food like it.

“Not a problem at all. I feed all my guests,” Dracula answers, brushing it off. He starts to saute the onions after washing his hands again. “I can give you a basic recipe if you’d like.”

“I’d…” Joker hesitates for a moment. “I’d appreciate that… thank you.” Joker starts to watch Dracula intently, then stands up and starts watching him cook.

“Space. Please? If you want to be helpful, then please at least tell the others we’re preparing food?” Dracula huffs, not exactly comfortable with being in close proximity with another person at the moment. While he doesn’t outright shove the kid away, he does have the stones Joker is standing levitate upwards and move away from him. Visibly hurt, Joker simply nods and heads off to find the others. 

Now able to breathe again, he places the rest of the ingredients in with the onions. Then he keeps an eye on the meat. Once it starts to brown, he takes a wooden spatula and starts to break it up to ensure it cooks well and the texture is fine. He adds the flour, stirs well, then adds the sour cream and the deer stock. When accounting for the two eggs? Perfect. Then he salts the near finished mixture to taste, then gestures for Ganondorf to approach. He takes a spoon from the silverware drawer and hands it over.

Hesitantly, Ganondorf tries it, and his eyebrows raise. Dracula simply nods, and decides to add the eggs. Once incorporated, he cuts the heat. With a wave of the hand, a glass dish, a brush, a bowl, and some butter move from their places and where he wants them. A quick flash of fire melts it, and he prepares the dish for the meat filling. Ganondorf takes the opportunity to lean on the counter next to Dracula and rest his arm on his shoulder. Carefully observing Dracula’s hands, as if impressed by his precision and care. One sheet of phyllo at a time, carefully brushed with butter and placed in the pan.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Ganondorf starts, “compared to the rest of the kitchen, your stove seems rather… how do I put it… advanced. Why?”

“Convenience,” Dracula deadpans, his voice dryer than the Gerudo Desert. 

“Then… how? Can’t have been cheap.”

“You’d be surprised. Though, I only merely transformed the old one into this more convenient model,” Dracula explains, taking great care in handling the dough.

“Well, my question still stands. How?” Ganondorf repeats his question.

“Short answer, the chaotic realm. It is directly tied to this castle, and through this,” he gestures to his pendant, careful to not touch his white shirt, “I am granted abilities from that dimension. That includes having full control over this castle. It is basically an extension of my will. It’s how I quickly got all this together.”

Ganondorf then looks at Dracula. Eyes filled with envy. “You get an entire dimension to draw power from?”

Dracula nods without even meeting his gaze, and then gauges the bottom layer. This is enough. First Ganondorf’s arm is brushed away. Then he takes the pot of filling, and carefully fills the container. Afterwards, the rest of the phyllo is used up to form the top crust. He makes what is practically a stabbing motion around the edge between the actual food and the pan with the brush, and pours the rest in. He hears something behind him, then rotates the ears, and finally turns around. 

He stares for a second or so before finally asking, “What are you doing?”

“...trying to help by making sure the kitchen is clean?” Ganondorf admits, visibly lost.

“Materials are under the sink or against that wall, next to the sink.”

The two nod at each other, and Ganondorf dutifully cleans things up. Dracula then covers the meat pie with a clean cloth and places it in the preheated oven. He collapses into a kitchen chair and looks out into the dining room upon hearing conversation. He then rests his hand on his forehead and leaning against the table.

I half expected most of them to not want to eat. Especially the blonde one… Skull, I believe.

30 minutes pass, and Dracula removes it from the oven. With the utmost care, he sets it down on the dining room table and delicately removes the cloth, teleporting it somewhere else.

Violet is the first to notice, and she gets plates and silverware from the kitchen. Then she sets the table before Dracula can tell her she doesn’t have to. He takes a minute or so to finally say, “Thank-- thank you.”

She looks over once she’s done and uses a hair tie to keep her hair out of her face. “Don’t worry about it, sir,” she beams, “you and Ganondorf already worked hard to feed us, it’s only fair.”

Reluctantly, Dracula nods, and takes his seat at the head of the table, gesturing for Ganondorf to sit to his right. A lesser demon makes sure there are glasses and drinks on the table. Blood, water… Țuică?!  

“You.” He bluntly states, pointing at the lesser demon. “Only two of us here can drink alcohol. Just two glasses are fine.” The demon sheepishly nods, and only pours the two glasses before putting the drink away. Dracula then pours some blood to combine with the brandy. Not my preferred alcohol to combine with blood, but frankly, my head has been hurting all day. I’ll live. When the lesser demon returns, Dracula orders, “when everyone is seated, I will ask them if they want something to drink. You retrieve them. Got it?” Nod. “Good.”

Violet is the first to wash up and take a seat, and slowly but surely, everyone else takes a seat. Then Dracula makes sure the others have something to drink and are served before serving himself. He holds out his drink a little bit and mutters, “Sănătate.”

While he observes the others, he jots down in a book, Day 8 of the study. I have finally ascertained why the subject is affected by the infection despite not being a fighter. It is my current theory that since Subject was a part of a fighter’s moveset, he is subject to the same rules as your standard fighter. I am certain if I were to find an infected Luma and capture it safely, this would prove my theory. Aside from that, he is gradually degrading. What’s left of his external body is fascinating-- true to previous sightings, he has become more worried. Smiling more. Irregular heartbeat. Begging me to kill him. I will likely unleash him back in the remains of his original game should he become too hazardous to keep in the castle. I doubt that day will come, but I need to be prepared regardless.

Day 2

Noir wanders the castle garden, noticing that the monsters tending it could use some help. She then looks over at a bed of garlic, gets on her knees, and starts to weed. Looking around, she notices that the dandelion greens are being harvested, and follows suit. A smile creeps onto her face, and she starts to delicately hum. Soon, the creatures around her are humming too. She follows what the others are doing, to make sure she’s doing it right. In doing so, she starts learning more than she thought. 

How important the PH of the soil is. What specific tools are for. Preserving food. Identifying Romanian pests. Her eyes are practically filled with stars while she absorbs the information like a sponge. She’s then tasked with planting new cabbage seedlings in the nearby greenhouse. With a spring in her step she moves into the greenhouse. Trowel in hand, she starts to plant the cabbage, taking care to avoid the man-eating plants. 

Her body shoots up when she hears the door open, and she quickly turns in its direction. Then she takes a deep breath. “Don’t scare me like that, Ryuji.”

“Sheesh. Sorry. I just wanted to see what you were up to,” Ryuji apologizes. Then he gets closer and looks at the plants. “What are those anyway?”

“Cabbage plants. I could show you how to plant them.”

He takes a while to think. “Any other time I’d probably say something mean and walk away… but honestly I don’t know if I have anything better to do. I’ll bite.”

Noir’s eyes light up and she hands him a second trowel. Then she demonstrates how to plant the seedlings. “First you dig a small hole… it should be about as deep as your pointer finger,” she explains, delicately taking the seedling out of its pot and sets it in the hole. “Then you cover everything but the green parts in soil, like this.”

Ryuji follows her lead and looks to make sure he did it right.

Noir simply gives a thumbs up and the two start transplanting the seedlings.

“How have you been holding up?” Noir asks, leaning in to listen.

“Eh?”

“Since… you know.”

“Oh… I don’t know. Not the ‘let’s sit down and discuss our feelings’ type of guy, Haru, you know this,” Skull groans, trying to focus on the plants. “Did Joker tell you what happened?”

Haru nods. Then the greenhouse is filled with awkward silence, and the two keep planting. Before long, a third person enters, and chooses to help. Little Mac more focuses on watering since he doesn’t exactly trust himself to actually plant. She looks at the boxer, more surprised that he’s here than upset at his presence. Once the cabbage is planted, they start tending to the other plants in the greenhouse. 

“You two still upset? About Queen and Fox… that is,” Mac asks, trying to keep calm.

Ryuji looks over. “For the last time, we aren’t blaming you for what happened to them.”

“I know, I just,” the boxer trails off, wringing his hands.

“What, you feel guilty or something?”

Little Mac glances at the floor and turns back to the tomato plants. Ryuji’s eyes soften a bit.

“Hey, man, I--” he tries to backpedal only to punch the palm of his hand, “Dammit,” he mumbles, then speaks up, “I’m sorry.”

Mac then shrugs.

Before he can repeat himself, Haru grabs his shoulder and shakes her head. He then sits in a chair with his knees to his chest. Then he takes Fox’s old sketchbook and starts to flip through it, tracing each line and shape with his fingers. By the end of the book, he holds it close to his heart and he only now notices how shaky his breathing has become.

Mac approaches and stands next to Ryuji. He pats his shoulder and shuts his eyes for a few moments. Then he starts to recall the days before all this. The days and nights spent training, running along New York’s streets. How friendly and sportsmanlike his competition mostly was before and after each match. The support he had from Doc even in his darkest days. What would Doc even do here? He wipes his eyes with his arms, and he remembers something. He roots through his satchel, and takes a chocolate bar he was saving for Doc. With tears in his eyes, he offers it to Ryuji.

Ryuji looks up and starts to reach for it, only to pause. He pulls back a bit, only for Mac to hold it out more. He carefully accepts the snack, and slowly starts gnawing at it after removing the wrapper.

Mac shivers a bit, and shakes his head. “We should get back inside. More brick than the Minor Circuit locker rooms.”

Haru jokes, “That’s because you’re in a tank top and boxing shorts.”

“And you’re wearing tights with a skirt, you aren’t exactly shvitzing either, sis,” he retorts, prompting light laughter from Skull.

The three return inside the castle, and Haru takes 3 teabags from the pantry. She takes care to ensure they aren’t poisonous, and sets each one in a cup. She notices a kettle. Once filled with water and set back in place it starts to bring the water to proper temperature. As if by magic. She hears a very distinct whistle once the water is ready, and pours it into the cups, waiting for the tea to steep. Once ready, the bags are removed and properly disposed of. She gives the other two their tea and sits next to Ryuji.

He looks into the cup. Ack. I’m not a tea drinker. But… Haru did make it. I’ll drink it, but only so I don’t hurt her feelings. I like it when my face doesn’t meet the bad side of her axe. He simply nods and at least tries it. It isn’t terrible, though it could use some sugar. Maybe more caffeine or taurine maybe. That’s just a hot energy drink then. Looking over at Mac, it’s clear he’s happily drinking it without complaint. Though, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised.

“I was thinking,” Haru starts, swirling her drink. “Maybe we should hold a small funeral service? I know almost everyone here lost someone in all of this.”

“Maybe? This place even have a chapel?” Mac asks, leaning forwards.

She leans back in her chair. “It does. Not a Christian or Shinto style. More agnostic style, but when I asked Dracula, he specifically told me it was quote ‘like a chapel’,” She says, mimicking Dracula.

The three start to really think about it. Haru then takes her phone out and starts texting. Once done, she sets it screen down on the kitchen table.

Day 3

The room is practically pitch black, save for the shreds of sunlight peeking through the curtains and the screen of Oracle’s computer. Joker lays on the floor, legs against the wall, deep in thought. Looking over at Oracle, she is completely absorbed in her work. Looks important. Maybe I shouldn’t bother her. 

Both are interrupted by a knock at the door. Oracle clicks off her tab faster than sound travels and turns her head. “Come in-!” she exclaims.

Leaf meekly enters the room, hugging herself. Her voice is quiet. “I… I don’t want to be alone…” she trembles, visibly on the brink of tears.

Joker looks over at her with pity. “Poor thing… come here… what’s wrong?”

Leaf sits next to Joker, now hugging her knees. She goes completely nonverbal.

Oracle turns in her chair. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks. Leaf shakes her head and buries her head in her arms. “I- It’s okay--” she stammers, adjusting the goggles on top of her head. “We’re here if you need us.”

Joker sits normally against the wall, much to Mona’s annoyance. Thankfully, the cat falls back asleep in Joker’s lap. Charizard also creeps in, and curls up next to his trainer. 

Leaf pulls an object out of her pocket and holds it to her chest. She runs her fingers along the broken VS seeker. Noting its blue hue and cracked outer shell. Then, she holds it to her chest. In an attempt at expressing empathy, Joker takes a tiny box out of his pocket and flips it open revealing a ring. It is decorated with the design of Queen’s mask and rubies delicately placed. Star designs along the shank and gallery to resemble an infinity ring. He distinctly remembers having it be custom made for her. Leaf turns her head and notices the ring. Her eyes well up with tears and she hugs Joker’s arm tight. He closes the box and sets his other hand on her arm. He grits his teeth as if fighting back tears.

A tiny voice can be heard, “someone understands…”

Once it registers, Joker can’t help but break down into tears.

Oracle stands up and approaches the two, soon sitting on the floor. She holds her arms out to offer a hug, which Joker readily accepts. While hesitant, Leaf also accepts the offer and she cries into Oracle’s shoulder. The navigator holds them for as long as they need, she’s been there before. Mona wriggles and squirms out of the hug, and starts to clean himself up. Charizard, however, coils himself around the three. Even draping his wings over them.

They are like this for a long while before the door is knocked on again. Oracle looks up at Little Mac and tilts her head.

“Hey… um… am I interrupting something?” he asks.

The three let go and face Little Mac. “No, no,” Joker splutters, wiping away his tears with his sleeve.

Little Mac rubs the back of his neck and explains, “Well… Haru, Ryuji and I were wondering if you were interested in meeting up in the castle’s chapel?” 

The trio look between each other, and stand up. With Little Mac in the lead, they make their way to the chapel, and are met with a surprisingly well put together service. Panther looks over and makes her way to them. 

“Ren. Futaba. You made it…” she heaves, as if she had been on her feet in heels all day.

Ren nods and looks around. “Ann… what is this?”

“We were setting up a memorial service. Just to pay respects, you know?” Ann gestures vaguely to the front of the room, with framed pictures and flowers. 

Ren finally registers the distinct scent of incense. Sandalwood, frankincense, lavender, mugwort, and rose, all blending together for an almost transcendent scent in the room. He gets closer to the pictures and finds that they’re all paintings. Ryuji looks over and stands next to his friend, resting a hand on his shoulder. Mona creeps out from behind Joker, spots Crow’s portrait, and swats at it until it falls flat onto the ground. Nobody bothers to pick it up.

Soon, they are joined by Dracula and Ganondorf. The others make their way to a place to sit, as the vampire stands in front of them. Leaf sits right next to Ren, clinging to his arm.

Dracula clears his throat, and proclaims, “We are gathered here to honor the lives of those we’ve lost before finding each other. The loss of a friend or loved one is a tragedy, especially when it’s out of our control. To list them off… Red, Jerome ‘Doc’ Louis, Kitagawa ‘Fox’ Yusuke, Niijima ‘Queen’ Makoto, and the late Princess Zelda. While we may not have all known these people for very long, they were still important enough to be honored on this day. If anyone would like to stand here and make a statement, they are more than welcome to.” 

Finally, Dracula sits next to Ganondorf, visibly exhausted.

After a few moments of silence, Little Mac is the first to stand at the front and deliver his eulogy. “Doc was not just my coach. He was a father figure. A friend. Former heavyweight champion of the world. He may not have been well known outside of New York, but any spirit here can agree that his skill as a coach was unmatched. It is a tragedy knowing he’s gone…” he holds out his satchel. “...this is for you, coach. I’ll keep training to do you proud.” Then he sets the satchel of chocolate in front of Doc’s portrait.

This is followed by eulogies by the other phantom thieves. Ren isn’t tuning them out, just waiting. 

 “Makoto was there when I was healing from losing my mother…” Futaba laments.

“She always seem-- seemed to be in her sister’s shadow… it- it helped me a lot after what happened with Doctor Maruki,” Violet stumbles over her words.

“I can’t blame her for her inaction during… the incident. She wanted a future like every other student there,” Ann sighs.

“Yusuke was always slow to warm up, but… I envied him. At least he still had the memory of his mother to cling to,” Haru admits, visibly ashamed.

“He was a good man, just scarred by the actions of a selfish old man,” Mona affirms, trying to be strong, though his droopy tail and ears say it all.

Ryuji takes the stand, clutching the sketchbook.

“Fox… was a friend to all of us phantom thieves. He led a very lonely life before we met. Talented. Confident. But he didn’t have many friends at school. Was under an abusive mentor his entire life until he joined the phantom thieves. Before his death…” Ryuji’s voice starts to break while he tightens his grip on the sketchbook, “he told me he loved me. I still don’t know what to think about all this or even if I feel the same way. If he was even genuine. It’s… too late to say anything to him, now. He’ll be dearly missed. I only hope he gets to see his mother again.” Then the items are set in front of Yusuke’s portrait.

Ren finally makes his stand, though not without Leaf clinging to his arm. “Yusuke… he had a bright future ahead of him. He fought so hard to free himself from Madarame once he realized the truth about his situation. He was an essential part of the team. He was the creative mind who helped us heist after heist. He would go out of his way to still take the train…” he pauses to chuckle half-heartedly, “even though he lived at his school. He was always such a character like that. Intelligent, bold and once a choice was made, he stuck with it. Makoto was the love of my life. Model student. Kind. Caring. Intelligent. It took… a very long time for her to warm up to me, but I was willing to wait. Before her death… I… I had a ring made for her. I hoped to propose to her one day. I knew I wanted to grow old with her… and I’m still going to love her until the day I die. We’ll miss both her and Yusuke.” Ren sets the ring in front of Makoto’s portrait and tries to stay strong for the other thieves. He clenches his jaw and soon has a death grip on the hem of his blazer. Leaf looks up towards the crowd and clings to him.

She finally speaks up, “Red… was my brother. He didn’t have the mercy of dying like the others. I… I.. I had to watch him be stung… slowly lose it… until it wasn’t him anymore…” then she can’t take it anymore and openly weeps into Ren’s jacket, and the two sit back down.

After confirming that Ganondorf has nothing to say, Dracula then closes the service, though he allows the others to stay as long as they need and visit as they please.

Day 4

“Come on, man. I don’t need to see a doctor! My leg is fine!” Ryuji shouts, kicking the ground. 

“Dude, your ankle is swelling!” Ren shouts back, having to drag his friend kicking and screaming to the medical wing. Finally, Ryuji is made to sit on an examination table. Dracula steps in, is brought up to speed with what’s happening, and scrubs in. 

Dracula then has his patient stand up to measure his weight and height to see how he’s changed since arrival. Lost weight. Visibly and it’s obvious with the numbers. Then Ryuji is seated back on the examination table. Regular heartbeat. Lungs sound good. Average blood pressure. Then he sternly looks over at Ren. “Tell me why he was brought in,” he sighs.

“His ankle is swollen. I can see it through the bandages,” Ren explains flatly.

“I see that, when did he last change the bandage?”

Ryuji’s face freezes. Slowly, he moves his head between Dracula’s face, and his leg. You were supposed to change them?

“Actually, save your breath. Your expression says it all. Does he have a history of injury in this particular leg?” Dracula exasperates. The two nod, unsure as to why he seems frustrated or annoyed. With utmost care, the bandage is removed. Edema, just like he said . There could be several sources, since a simple twisted ankle should not result in it getting this bad. He hasn’t eaten much of anything so that rules out eating too much salt. Standard weight. Too fidgety to sit or stand in the same way for too long. To my knowledge he isn’t even taking a medicine that would do this. With no real options, Dracula starts to apply pressure to the ankle, to identify if there’s anything out of place. The bones don’t feel right. My assumption that it couldn’t be an injury was wrong. He asks, “How did you injure your ankle?”

“Well…” Ryuji starts, only to hesitate. He wrings his hands a bit, and admits, “I was running as fast as I could and tripped on a tree root. My buddy here nearly let himself get infected so I could get out of there.”

“That would certainly do it. I’d like to check the rest of your leg…” Dracula explains, looking over at Ren. “Could you help him into at least a pair of shorts? It’s difficult to work with his current clothing,” he requests.

“Yeahh… Can you grab my gym uniform?” Ryuji asks, looking over at his friend. As if understanding, Ren nods, and runs off for a few minutes. Then he looks back at Dracula with a more blank look. “For the record. I don’t know why you’re being an asshole, but I do not trust you at all. I’m staying here because there’s food and shelter. That’s it,” he gripes. Then he crosses his arms and intentionally avoids eye contact.

“You know what? I’m fine with that. I have a job to do and that includes keeping you all safe. If that means I’m being an asshole, I don’t care.” Dracula scolds while further inspecting his patient. Testing the joints. Taking some of the fluid from the swollen area into a syringe. I’ll have to send this for a biopsy. I don’t think it’s infected. Doesn’t look like there’s bacteria or anything. I’m more curious. He turns his back for a few moments to send the sample to his laboratory.

Taken aback by the reaction, Ryuji flinches a bit. “Woah- woah, man. We don’t have to be friends, but could you at least be a little nicer about it?” 

“Fine.”

Ryuji wonders, What on Earth hurt this man? He starts to kick his legs.

“Hold. still.” Dracula huffs, pulling Ryuji from his train of thought. He sternly though carefully holds the injured leg still.

The two sit in silence until Ren returns, and Dracula leaves the room for a few minutes. Upon returning, he gets right back to work, noticing all sorts of out of place bones when he properly checks the leg for fractures. Noting when his patient flinches or is visibly uncomfortable from the pressure placed on his leg. I have several questions. He whips his head around to look at Ren and clears his throat. “If you could, please explain what on Earth happened to his leg,” He inquires. 

The two friends look at each other and nod. Ren then explains, “Before he and I met, he had a particularly nasty gym teacher to put it lightly. He set my friend off, attacked the teacher, and said teacher proceeded to break his femur claiming it was self defense.”

Dracula’s expression softens a bit. “Poor thing,” he mutters. I don’t even know if he could afford physical therapy given the state of his leg. He speaks up, “The good news is, the ankle is only sprained, and this will heal up quickly with no real need for therapy afterwards. The bad news is, I may have to go in and re-align his femur or replace the bone entirely given how poorly healed it is.”

Ryuji simply slouches, though intentionally keeping his eyes off his legs and rather on his hands. He can’t help but fidget with his fingers while thinking.

“Ryuji?” Joker asks, waving his hand in front of his face, only to accidentally startle him. He recoils when his friend swats his arm.

“I- I don’t want my leg cut open all over again--” Ryuji stammers, trying to keep his cool.

“Okay. Alright. I understand. I said might,” the vampire blurts, retrieving what he needs to put the ankle in a cast. First removing the shoe, then making sure the ankle and foot are clean. Without another moment of deliberation, he places Ryuji in bandages. Then he hands over a pair of crutches and asks, “You know how to use these then?”

Ryuji simply nods, and props himself upright with them. He then sulks all the way back to his room.

“Remember to change the bandages!” Dracula shouts after him. Then he heaves a heavy sigh and starts to clean up. Ren wordlessly starts to help, taking care to not touch things he either doesn’t understand or feels like he shouldn’t touch,  

Once done, Dracula excuses himself, and returns to his laboratory to perform the biopsy and continue the study.

Day 5

Dracula paces in his laboratory, still waiting on the biopsy results. Ganondorf, seated in a chair, crosses his legs and starts to flip through a book on basic chemistry.

“Why do you insist on acting aloof and frustrated?” Ganondorf inquires, glancing up from the book. The vampire pauses for a moment, only to keep pacing as if he didn’t hear the question. “I know you can hear me,” he grumbles. When Dracula continues to not answer, he sets the book away and picks him up by the back of his shirt. “What is your problem?” he badgers while poking Dracula’s chest. 

After teleporting away and brushing off the dust, he snaps back, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“This isn’t the time to-”

“Do you really think I don’t know that?!” Dracula interrupts with a shout. “Do you really think I don’t know that out there, there are infected creatures looking to force you into their hivemind?!”

“I…”

“I’m not done!” Dracula interrupts again, this time slamming his hands on his desk. “You are assuming I don’t know that people are dying out there. I know damn well more than anyone that we are all each other has, and I’m not looking to get attached to any of you. How do you think that will end? Tell me.”

Ganondorf opens his mouth to speak, and recoils a bit. His voice trembles a bit, “I imagine it wouldn’t end well.” He takes a moment to compose himself. “However. I don’t think going to this extreme will help either.”

Dracula scoffs and leans back. “You don’t know that.”

“You don’t either,” Ganondorf asserts, stepping towards the desk. He leans against the furniture and lowers his head to make eye contact. “I’m not asking you to make a switch immediately. I’m asking you to consider that living humans need connection.”

After a few moments, Dracula’s expression softens, even starts to crack a smile. Confused, Ganondorf’s head tilts and steps back. The vampire sits up straight and relaxes in quiet observation. “Perhaps you’re right,” Dracula affirms. 

Then, he stands up and paces again, this time giving Ganondorf a frankly awkward pat on the shoulder. More confused than frightened, Ganondorf sits back down and continues reading. Finally, Dracula sits in the chair next to him and tries to occupy his newfound downtime. He picks up a novel and at least tries to focus. When did I last defragment? Maybe I should start work on the next version of the antiviral medicine. What, after the last… fifteen, maybe sixteen failed tests? What’s a seventeenth attempt then? It’s not science if I just give up. I need to give it time. Well now what? I can’t focus. I could apologize to Ren. That would require admitting I did something wrong. Dracula lowers the book and looks into the void. He stands up with a sigh and leaves the room.

He wanders the halls, until he notices that he’s at Ren’s bedroom door. He starts to stare at it. 

What’s stopping me?

I don’t think I did anything wrong. Did I? Well a few days ago…

Dracula then shakes his head, grabs his hunting gear, and goes out into Romania’s wilds with the excuse of wanting to make sure there’s extra stock for emergencies. 

This isn’t going to solve anything.

Maybe he’s right.

Shut up.

He looses an arrow, striking a deer in the heart. Taking the corpse over his shoulder, he contemplates what he should do next. He furrows his eyebrows and pinches his nose bridge. Dracula looks between the rest of the forest and his castle. He then proceeds to punch a tree hard enough to chop it down. This is then followed by indistinct cursing bordering on shouting. I suppose I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?

“Are you okay?”

Dracula jumps a bit, tripping over the recently felled tree. “Don’t you fucking…” he pauses, then takes a deep breath and takes a moment to compose himself. “Don’t spook me like that.”

Ganondorf sasses, “Me? Scare you? Miraculous.”

Dracula lightly nudges him. “I was only lost in thought! What are you even doing out here? It’s dangerous,” he lowers his voice to a whisper.

“Well, when you see a random tree fall when you know someone recently went out,” Ganondorf starts, then trails off. He glances between the tree and Dracula in hopes he understands.

“Eh,” Dracula scoffs. Then he lifts the log onto his other shoulder, only to try and maintain his balance. 

With a sigh, Ganondorf takes the deer carcass and nods. Dracula opens his mouth to protest, though just as quickly, he shuts up and starts back towards the castle.

Once they return, Ganondorf hands over storage of the carcass and processing of the log to a lesser vampire, and grabs the back of Dracula’s shirt before he can protest.

“Take a break. At this rate you’re going to drive yourself crazy.”

“Assuming I was of sound mind to begin with.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Day 7

The doors to the library are shoved open. Ren approaches the lab and carefully observes Dracula. He carefully gets closer, until he can feel the cold radiating from his skin. The vampire turns, and flinches.

“Please-- do not get too close to me, I am not used to that.” Dracula carefully moves Ren away from him. “Genuinely makes me feel nervous.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck,

“Actually, you came at a perfect time. I wanted to speak with you.”

“You did?”

Dracula then nods and sets the chemistry equipment aside. He looks to Ganondorf, who also nods. Then he looks back at Ren.

“If you’ll remember…” Dracula sighs, “I essentially forced you away a few days ago for getting too close.”

“I do. I do.”

“I’m sorry.” He turns to face Ren. Then he grips onto the hem of his shirt.

“It’s… fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“If I was really bothered by it, I would’ve confronted you by now,” He starts to pace in the laboratory. “Besides,” He continues, “I figured I just made you uncomfortable. I do appreciate you apologizing, though.”

Dracula simply nods and resumes work on a new antiviral medication. Several antibiotics taken from their chilled place, carefully measured out and combined with regard for their side effects and reactions. Then, he places the batch in a fridge for later. He leaves the room and starts towards where his experiments are being contained. Stung spirits and the one character he found with fighter related data. 

Concerned, Ganondorf and Ren very quickly catch up, only to look in horror at the experiments that are taking place. He finally halts at the holding cell of Subject 201514 and stares. Observing as the test subject exists in its chamber, only barely alive. Only now in its current stage, is it able to move itself, even if it’s only moving the bed it’s strapped to. 

A look of bewilderment or awe is written across Dracula’s face and his eyes shine with curiosity. He whispers, “fascinating,” and starts to write at a faster speed than Ganondorf can keep up. Ren looks between him and the test subject. He wants to let the poor creature go, but who knows what would happen if that happened? 

It’s not just stung, it’s infected. Letting it go would probably hurt more people than help anyone.

“You’re,” He starts, noting the shakiness in his tone.

“A monster?” Dracula starts to chuckle. “I don’t care. I’m getting results, and with luck, I could solve this.”

“Could?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure. I’ve been unsuccessful so far, but I’m not stopping until this is all over.”

Afraid, Ren starts to step back. “You’re not going to infect us, are you?”

“I won’t. I have standards, and I’d rather collect my samples from outside the castle.”

Ganondorf chimes in, “If he wanted to use us as lab rats, he would’ve by now.”

Dracula simply nods, and finishes writing down his notes. He puts the clipboard back where he had it and turns to Ren. 

“Do you promise to not experiment on us?” Joker grabs his pistol and shakily points it at Dracula. In his panic, he struggles to really aim.

“I promise. I will only perform any experiments at all if any of you specifically ask to be tested on,” Dracula sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Ren then sighs and relaxes, only to accidentally fire his pistol. Thinking quickly, Dracula shields himself with his cape. The bullet merely bounces off and rolls on the floor for a moment. Embarrassed, Ren deeply bows and retreats to his room.

Ganondorf’s eye twitches a little and he glances down at the vampire. Dracula only returns his glance and nods. Somehow, that both eases and worsens Ganondorf’s discomfort. Though, given the look in his eyes. I think he likes us too much to not go through with it. I trust him, but now I’m worried that one day that thing will escape.

When he notices Dracula leaving, Ganondorf is soon on his heels.

The two share a long moment of silence until they reach an observatory, merely the second tallest tower in the castle.

“Out of curiosity… do I scare you as much as I scare the others?” Dracula asks, staring at the stars above. 

“You don’t scare me at all. The closest I guess would be fascination?” Ganondorf answers, trying to keep a straight face. “I find you fascinating. You’re a very interesting person to be around. Certainly a good change of pace from a typical Hylian.”

Dracula lifts his hand to his chin, thinly veiling his curiosity by adjusting his facial hair. At the same time, he had leaned forward a bit. Finally, he lowers his hand and cracks a smile. Not even tilting his head to hide it this time. “Yes… I think you and I will get on just fine.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have been closely observing you since you first started helping me. I was… unsure if you were really able to. Though, you have been nothing but incredibly helpful. I was wrong to underestimate you. Honestly I welcome the help, usually getting one of my subordinates to actually help me the way you do is like pulling teeth. They take orders just fine, but unfortunately not all of them are even close to your intellect.”

“Meaning?”

“Keep helping me, please.”

Ganondorf nods, then leans in with a knowing smile. “Is this your way of saying you’re enjoying my company?”

“Perhaps,” Dracula playfully scoffs, nudging him away and approaching the telescope. Intentionally keeping his eyes away from the shoulders and neck.

Chapter Text

Days 1 - 3

Early on in the morning, Dracula reluctantly drags himself out of bed in time to barely catch the sunrise. The next few hours are spent studying the test subject and workshopping a potential cure. 

Did I remember to eat? It’s not important right now, I’ll eat later.

Once aware that the others are awake for the day, he ensures they’re properly tended to and returns to his practice of science until noon.

I’ll eat later. I’m not really feeling that hungry at the moment. There are more pressing matters anyway.

The days are going by in a blur. It’s not even being left behind that bothers him-- he won’t leave his castle unless it’s necessary. It’s the idea that the handful of people already knew and/or cared about are already gone. Dead? Maybe infected? Missing in Action, yes, but what happened?

How long have I been here? Pretty much isolating myself on purpose and for what? Months? Weeks? I don’t know anymore. Why do I still do this? I don’t want to even think about it. Shut up. Focus. I have a job to do.

On top of the relative isolation with only the resources in the surrounding area, he doesn’t even have a way to contact anyone outside of his game unless they’re in there with him. Then, on top of that, having to be awake during the day to account for how the people he’s protecting go about their days. The sun doesn’t even kill him. No, rather, the sun gives him at the very least a dull headache that perpetuates until the sun goes down. By then, he can’t even be productive because everything hurts.

He doesn’t want to feel anything anymore.

From dawn to dusk everything hurts.

He knows what he needs to do, and he knows he’s capable of doing it. The problem is execution and if he can detach himself long enough to get it done.

Day 4

Dracula paces in the medical wing, waiting for Ryuji. It feels like he’s been waiting for hours. It feels like he’s moving in slow motion. Then he snaps back to reality once Ryuji waves in front of his face.

“Hey. Earth to Dracula. Sorry I’m late. Tried eating again,” Ryuji groans, actively trying to stay off his ankle. 

“Apologies. I must’ve not heard you come in. I was lost in thought. Sit. Sit,” Dracula promptly apologizes and gestures to the examination table. 

“Starting to feel better at least.”

“Good. Good.”

Dracula then removes the bandages and checks on the sprain. “I’m impressed,” he deadpans, “You’ve been remembering to change your bandages.”

Ryuji simply nods while the bandage is replaced, though he can’t help but notice the glazed over look in the vampire’s eyes. As if dead inside.

“If you have nothing else bothering you, you’re free to go,” Dracula monotones. Then he turns away for a bit, writing things down. He takes a key from around his neck and unlocks a cabinet. After a minute of checking labels, Dracula hands a small bottle of ibuprofen to Ryuji. “Take these when you start to feel your ankle acting up.”

“Thanks, doc…” Ryuji mumbles. He clears his throat and carefully grabs onto Dracula’s cape. “Hey. You don’t look so good, even by dead people standards. What’s up?”

The cape is promptly tugged back in place. “I’m fine. I’m undead, some days I’m going to look more like a corpse than usual.

“You look like you’re about to collapse.”

“And I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, worry about your ankle. Got it?”

“If you say so. See you around, then.” Now visibly worried, Ryuji balances himself on his crutches and leaves. 

Slowly, but surely, Dracula steadies himself and returns to his laboratory. Continuing to practice chemistry while Ganondorf observes the test subject. Sweat drips down his brow, and he’s finding it harder to breathe. So, he stops breathing-- it isn’t like he actually needs to breathe anyway, he only breathes so he can speak. Ganondorf lightly turns, and lightly tilts his head upon noticing that Dracula isn’t breathing. Deciding it isn’t his business at the moment, he chooses to continue his observations and examinations. 

Finally, the last batch of antivirals are taken from their places in cold storage. Only 8 left to test before the process of combining antiviral medicines can begin. The first of which is Pegylated interferon alfa 2b. The medication is soon written out as ‘PIFN-2b’ for the sake of brevity in Dracula’s notes. This is usually a supplement for a substance made in the human body to fight hepatitis. The more he thinks, the more he wonders what on Earth this infection actually does to the body for it to essentially enter a state of necrosis. 

He looks over his notes again. Necrosis, joint dislocation… perhaps in hindsight seeing if parasite treatment would work should have been my first priority… development of tentacle-like limbs. Those are only the visible symptoms in your standard patient. Prior to this stage one could expect bruising around the entry wound, and eventually mania. Perhaps it works like cordyceps, worming its way into its host and hijacking it over time. This would explain the necrosis as a reaction to the body being hijacked. The patient’s cells would see its own body as a pathogen and likely start eating itself alive. He pauses to remember where he was. Mania. Possibly symptoms of psychosis, though this probably varies depending on the conditions the patient is in. 

If prior reports are to be believed, their intellect is kept intact on some level. Repeated testing on Patient 201514 have proven these reports true. It is also entirely possible for them to be capable of speaking, though this has not yet been confirmed. Their reflexes improve with this infection, too. Very curious indeed. One report has stated they are capable of collaboration, and this and other reports have confirmed that in the late stages of the infection, they are nearly if not outright invincible. 

It would also appear that each patient has its own specific strain of the infection. Every reported incident with photo evidence has the patient looking different.

It is at this moment Dracula realizes he had the completely wrong idea this entire time. He isn’t dealing with a virus as he anticipated. At best, it is a parasite. At worst, it could be something else entirely… maybe some form of bioweapon made with a parasite as its starting point. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to solve this.

Suddenly, Dracula starts to feel his stomach churn and he sets the chemicals aside. He leans against the nearest desk and lowers his head. His vision is starting to blur. Knees buckling, feeling weaker, though he forces himself back up. His headache only amplifies, his eyes dart around. He opens his mouth in a vain attempt at possibly calling out for help and he squints his eyes to focus on something, anything. When he starts to breathe again, his chest feels like it’s on fire, like the sheer involuntary act of breathing is a chore.

What’s going on? Why is everything so difficult all of a sudden? I should ask for help. No. No, no. I can’t. I just can’t. I’ve managed this long by myself, I’m not some weak and slowly dying old man. No matter what happens, I’m going to get through this. Just get up.

Dracula forces himself to stand, straightening his knees. 

Suddenly, he notices he’s been caught, the sudden body warmth pulling his mind to a brief state of clarity. Wordlessly, Ganondorf lays him down on a couch in the library, and proceeds to cover him in the bearskin cloak hanging off the chair. 

Ganondorf then wraps up the work the two were doing for later, and kneels next to Dracula. After a moment of contemplating, he shuts the curtains and dims the lights. He uses his magic to light the library’s fireplace and sits close by with a book. Then Dracula shuts his eyes, not even bothering to fight his exhaustion anymore. 

When he wakes up, he finds himself in bed. His body sore, head spinning, ears incessantly ringing. Dracula slowly sits up and stares into space.

I really just…? No. No, no. I genuinely failed just like that. Why couldn’t I just…? Why? I’m better than this. I know I’m better than this. I’m not 32 anymore. I should be able to have a brief dizzy spell and be able to keep pushing forward. 

I’m better than this.

I’m better than this.

I’m better than this.

I probably inconvenienced or hurt everyone I’m supposed to be protecting. I have responsibilities. I need to keep going. I need to get out of bed. Get out of bed.

Get. Out. Of. Bed.

He only barely moves, and resigns himself to existing in his bed in spite of his overwhelming thoughts. 

Why can’t I just move? I know how to move. Why won’t my body just move?

“Vlad!” Ganondorf finally shouts, firmly gripping Dracula’s shoulders. “You’re zoning out again.”

Dracula looks down at his hands. He mutters, “I’m sorry.”

With a deep sigh, Ganondorf lets go of his shoulders and sits on the edge of the bed. “When did you eat last?”

“I… can’t recall. Yesterday, I believe.”

“Night?” The gerudo is met with silence. “Don’t tell me, you ate at roughly noon yesterday, and then haven’t eaten a damn thing today?”

Dracula shoots him a look. Putting two and two together… no. No it’s actually what I just said isn’t it? That look is for when someone? It was really that obvious?

Once Ganondorf opens his mouth to lecture him, Dracula swiftly raises his hand. “I know better. I just have a lot to do and haven’t had the time or energy to keep my needs met. Do not remind me.”

Pinching his nose bridge, Ganondorf heaves a heavy sigh, and makes eye contact. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.”

“So you haven’t eaten… anything. Nothing at all since you woke up this morning. How? Do you just… not notice?”

“Well when you wake up in the morning with a migraine you tend to just want to get things over with.”

Ganondorf doesn’t even bother trying to argue. Not that these aren’t good excuses. They make sense. How long has he been forcing himself to do this routine? If he hasn’t noticed it’s hurting him by now… I can’t imagine how long he’s been waking up early and sleeping late.

“Please do me a favor.” The voe shifts to look Dracula in the eyes. “Take a break for the next few days. Do not do anything like you usually do unless it’s absolutely necessary. I can handle taking over the study, and the medicine can wait a couple days.

Dracula hesitates, then finally concedes, “Fine…” only to snap a little. “But, only because I owe you a favor after this and I have some thinking to do anyway. This doesn’t change anything…” he mutters, “...too much.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Sorry I want your body to recover so you don’t die on us one day.”

“Well excuse me, I’m not particularly used to my life being valued.”

“Eh.”

Dracula crosses his arms, and looks up intending to give him more attitude. Only, he can’t really find it in him in this moment of weakness. “Thank you.” His shoulders slump and he leans back to rest his head on the headboard.

“Wait, wait-” Ganondorf takes a moment to process. He furrows his eyebrows. “What- what’s with the sudden change in attitude? You were just… I’m confused.”

“I don’t really have it in me right now. Only so long I can keep it up.”

“That… that makes sense. I- I guess I’m just more used to you being this fiery and closed off… how do I say this politely… piece of work to put it lightly.”

“Good rhyme, there.”

Ganondorf leans back and rolls his eyes. Stifling laughter, he banters, “Silence. It was a slant rhyme at best anyway.”

“So you admit it."

“No. If I did it on purpose, it would be a proper rhyme.”

“Sure.” Dracula then smiles. “You’re fun to banter with, you know that?”

Once the voe looks back at Dracula’s face, his eyes widen a little bit. He’s… actually smiling. Great Goddesses. He isn’t even trying to hide it this time. “I have a bit to do though. I’ll see you later. Don’t die while I’m gone.”

“Fine. I’ll probably just sleep until then anyway.”

“When I come back, it’s with food. Got it?”

“I understand. Do not burn down my kitchen. I will serve you to the others if you do.”

“I’m not an imbecile,” Ganondorf then calls out as he’s leaving the room.

Now with the task of accepting the break forced upon him by his body, Dracula gets comfortable in bed and immediately falls back asleep.

Day 5

In the library, Ganondorf leans back in a chair, mindlessly flipping through a book. Trying to understand chemistry. It should be easy, right? It should in theory be like basic alchemy but it’s so much more complicated than that. He looks at Dracula, with his nose stuck in a novel. I should probably ask for help, but I specifically told him to take a break.

Then Dracula looks up, saves his place in the book, and closes it. He looks over and sighs. “You have been stuck on that page for roughly five minutes. If you need help understanding, just ask.”

“Look, I told you to take a break, I can understand this fine,” Ganondorf groans, squinting at the pages.

“Can you?”

“Well, the handwriting isn’t the best.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Can you understand the material?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. So tell me what that page is about.” Ganondorf practically freezes in place. His eye twitches, and he scans the pages again and again. Looking up from the page, he notices he’s in a cold sweat. Dracula leans forward intently. “Tell me what the page is about.”

“Fine! Fine. This is Greek to me.”

Dracula stands and goes to his desk, gesturing for Ganondorf to follow him. The book is set on the desk and the vampire takes a moment to look over the book. Scientific Notation-- a known tough spot for most students new to chemistry. He is going to hate when he inevitably has to go into organic biology… because that’s what’s needed for the work I’m doing. Baby steps, I guess. First chemistry, then biology, and then we deal with combining them. Taking a chalkboard from some obscure part of the castle, he first jots down a 5 followed by 8 zeroes. He turns back while placing the chalk where he had it. “Well. To put it as simply as possible,” Dracula starts. “Scientific Notation is the act of writing a large number like this into something like this.” He writes the same number again, but as five times ten to the eighth power.

“I mean, that makes sense, but what I can’t wrap my head around is how this applies to chemistry.”

“Simple. In chemistry, you tend to have massive numbers that you need to calculate with. For example, these two numbers. Six hundred thousand and nine hundred thousand. Now normally it would be difficult to calculate these two, but when written like this,” he pauses to write them as six times ten to the fifth power and nine times ten to the fifth power. “It’s slightly easier to calculate.”

“Alright. So this is information I need for basic understanding of chemistry.”

“It gets worse. Though, we’ll cross the bridge when we get there.”

Soon, hours and hours are poured into arguing over which book is correct, or getting different answers. Dracula’s hands start to tremor, tapping his pencil repeatedly against the table. Once he’s sure Ganondorf understands this topic they move on to the next. Acids and bases. In spite of his quaking hands, he takes some chalk and draws a detailed diagram of the topic. He takes a seat and leans back in quiet observation. Watching as Ganondorf starts to take in this information with utmost interest. 

Then the realization hits him. Dracula freezes, shattering the chalk in his hand. He’s played these games before. He’s taught before. What happened the last time he taught? No. He shouldn’t act like he doesn’t remember. How can he forget? He can’t forget. No. No. No. No. Dracula’s body is rendered unable to take action. Pain swells in his chest and he starts to break into a cold sweat. His pupils constrict into thin slits and then his ears start to twitch and rotate with every sound around him. 

Ganondorf looks up from his books and furrows his eyebrows. “Dracula?” He stands and waves his hand in front of his face. No response, as if catatonic. Then he snaps his fingers in front of Dracula’s face, only to be met with violent hissing and indistinct bat noises.

Dracula’s breathing accelerates, teeth still bared, eyes darting all over the place. Once he notices it’s just him and Ganondorf, his body starts to relax, though his eyes are yet to return to normal. 

“Well… it’s just me… nobody else is here. What happened?” Ganondorf asks, making an effort to keep his voice calm and clear.

“I…” Dracula hesitates. “I don’t…  want to… talk about it.” 

“I understand. Go take a break, and if I need your help, I will ask.”

Dracula simply nods, and retreats to a darker corner of the library to calm down. Before Ganondorf knows it, he practically disappears into the shadows like he was never there.

With a heavy sigh, Ganondorf shakes off any of his concerns and resumes delving into his studies.

Day 6

Ganondorf searches the kitchen for the ingredients he needs. Come on… there has to at least be good replacements for the hylian ingredients I’m used to. First in the freezer, he finds a goose. He figures, this should replace the item ‘raw bird thigh’... in hindsight it’s always a nondescript bird. Game logic, I suppose . After setting the goose thighs in the sink to defrost, he starts searching for the rice, wondering where that would even be kept. Checking cupboard after cupboard, the kitchen soon becomes a mess from his frantic search. He turns when he hears footsteps.

“Do you need help?” Ren asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

Ganondorf sighs and swallows his pride. “Yes, I can’t find the rice.”

“You… do know what it looks like, right? Small white grains, usually in a box or jar?”

“Wait…” Ganondorf thinks for a minute. “You have rice that is processed for you?”

“You don’t?”

“No? Canonically we’re always sent back long enough where it has to be harvested, all the way down south and processed by hand. Part of that is… largely my fault, but my point still stands. It’s bizarre.”

Ren opens the pantry and unceremoniously drops a sack of jasmine rice grains onto the counter. “That’s because Dracula doesn’t seem to purchase rice. Somewhere here, there’s a rice growing operation. It has to be indoors though.”

“You’re right. It’s too cold to grow this stuff outside.”

Ganondorf then goes into the pantry and finds a collection of pastas. Specifically one labeled ‘orzo’. He goes along, searching for ingredients that are even vaguely familiar to him. Two small onions, he finds the spice cabinet and absolutely none of it makes sense to him. Why on Earth does he have to have everything labeled in Latin and… I think that’s English? It’s hard to tell with his handwriting. Not that Dracula’s handwriting is bad, it’s just such specific cursive that it’s hard for most people to read.

He takes a red spice out of the cabinet and opens it, trying to identify it. Ren goes to his side, and squints to read the label. 

“That’s paprika,” Ren deadpans, then looks at Ganondorf like he’s an idiot.

Ganondorf snaps back, “I’m sorry I can’t read latin, rat’s nest, his cursive isn’t that easy to read and you know it. I saw you squint.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right, I didn’t mean to make that expression out loud.”

Now with the help he needs, Ganondorf continues to locate the ingredients he needs. Garlic salt, kosher salt, black pepper, ground mustard, and goose broth. Now with the things he needs, the voe approaches the oven, realizing he has to figure it out. After a bit of looking through recipe books, he determines that the best way to go would be to start preheating to 163 celsius. He then turns his attention back to the goose thighs in the sink. He takes them onto the cutting board and uses cotton towels to pat them dry. 

In a bowl, he combines roughly four teaspoons of garlic salt, 3 teaspoons of kosher salt, and 2 teaspoons of black pepper. He takes the bowl in his hand, and tosses the spices together, humming along to the sounds and carries his sense of rhythm over to applying the rub to the poultry. He then snaps and points to a cast-iron pan. Ren nods and takes the pan, some vegetable oil and pours it in. Now to wait for it to heat up.

To keep himself busy, the voe takes the onions and the nearest kitchen knife, then proceeds to chop them up into small pieces. While continuing preparations he keeps his ear out for the sound of screaming hot oil. Once the sound of popping and boiling are audible to everyone in the room, Ganondorf takes the goose thighs and gently sets them in the pan for about three minutes per side, counting them down by tapping on the counter. Six sides in total, making 18 minutes counted down per thigh. Once a thigh is done, it is picked up with a pair of tongs and placed gingerly on a plate. Without further deliberation, the chopped onions are added in and tossed around the pan where it barely kisses the flames of the stove. 

After roughly 3 minutes have passed, he tosses in the orzo and waits for it to brown. In with the rice, cooking it until it’s glistening in the kitchen lights. He then stirs in some of the goose stock and scrapes at the bottle of the pan to deglaze. The rest of the goose stock and spices are added. The mixture is stirred occasionally until the liquid is simmering. Joker starts to reach into the pan with a spoon, only to be smacked away. 

“Ack-- crap. Damn, that hurt more than I thought it would,” Ren seethes, grasping his hand.

“Meeeeh, that hurt more than I thought it would,” Ganondorf mocks. Then he snaps, “Well, next time keep your grimy-ass paws out of the food.”

“What, you aren’t going to taste your own cooking?”

“Oh, you poor child, I’ve been making my own food since before you were conceived.”

“You needed help to identify paprika.”

“Fucking… fine! We’re even. But I’m touching the food for you,” Ganondorf shouts, swiping the spoon from Ren’s hand, scooping a small sample and handing it to him.

With more caution than ever, Ren reaches out and takes the spoon, trying the mixture for himself. He takes a moment to think, and rolls his eyes when noticing the smug look on Ganondorf’s face. Then he furrows his eyebrows, finding difficulty in how to describe how he’s feeling. Finally, he swallows the food and takes a minute to contemplate. “Indescribable.”

“I told you.” Ganondorf then mutters, “Dumbass.”

“What was that?”

“I don’t have the time or the crayons to repeat myself.” Ganondorf then moves the goose onto the pilaf.

“Asshole.”

“I get that a lot,” grumbles Ganondorf, spinning the spoon in his hand and using the now clean spoon to move Ren back to open the oven. With his free hand, he swiftly moves the pan in and before he closes the door, he asks, “Go set a timer for thirty minutes, I’ll tell you when to start it.”

Ren nods and prepares the timer on his phone. “Ready.”

Ganondorf nods and kicks the door shut. “Go.”

Without a moment of deliberation, the timer is started and the two sit at the kitchen table while they wait. 

For a moment, they sit there in relatively awkward silence, and Ganondorf chooses to busy himself by cleaning up the kitchen. Soon, he is followed by Ren, and they start to work together until things are tidy like they should be.

Ganondorf then crosses his arms and leans against the wall. He grumbles, “You are so annoying, you know that?”

“I get that a lot,” Ren jokes, intentionally nudging the voe with his shoulder. Ganondorf then nudges back, unintentionally sending the kid to the floor. 

“I didn’t mean that-- this time-” Ganondorf apologizes and picks Ren up by the back of his shirt and haphazardly sets him back on his feet. 

“Don’t know your own strength?”

“I do. I just forget that everyone else is shorter than me.”

“Eh. Been there.”

“You’re the tallest out of the others, right?” Ganondorf starts to heat a small pat of butter in a separate pan. Once melted, he cracks four eggs into the pan. The eggshells are promptly sent to a compost bin.

“Yeah."

“You get it, then. Simply forgetting your size at times.”

“Yep. It gets annoying.”

Ganondorf then shuts off the heat once the eggs are set. “Fine, so maybe you aren’t the completely annoying little shit you happen to look like.”

“I’ll take it.”

Before the two know it, the alarm starts to blare, and Ren scrambles to shut it off. When the voe looks over, he sighs and shakes his head. He takes a couple pot holders, opens the oven, and removes the pan in as safe a manner as possible. Then the eggs are added and mixed in, and with a sigh of relief, Ganondorf actually finishes the task without setting anything on fire. He turns around and shouts, “Hey! There’s food if you want it! What you don’t eat goes to the monsters!”

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

Dracula sits on the roof of the castle, staring into the inky blackness of space. With the extra time to sleep during the day, he’s finally gotten the chance to sit among the stars again. With a deep breath, he embraces the surprisingly domestic moment. How long will it last? Heavy footsteps catch his attention. He turns and looks up to see Ganondorf climbing out onto the roof. 

The two sit next to each other wordlessly for a bit before Dracula finally asks, “Did you need something?”

“No. Do I need something in order to be near you?” Ganondorf snarks, setting a couple plates of food where he knows it’ll be stable. “Death said I’d find you here, since it’s the flattest roof here.”

“Did the others eat already?”

“They did. I didn’t see you, though. The others missed you.”

Dracula scoffs. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“I don’t think I’ll question when you say things like that anymore.”

“Good. Because you won’t get an answer. Yet.”

Ganondorf lets out a brief laugh, and hands over a plate. “Well, this is yours. I didn’t want you to go hungry.”

“What is it?”

“A simple poultry pilaf. It took a bit of trial and error because the ingredients I’m used to aren’t here… and your physics are hard to adapt to.”

Dracula slowly moves his head to look Ganondorf dead in the eye. “So help me if you have been wasting our resources.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I threw out the failures, we still ate the attempts.”

“Good. Because if you did waste the food I’d send you out there to get more.”

The two start to eat together under the stars, initially not saying a word; just staring out into space in each others’ company. A harsh cold wind whips past them and Ganondorf huddles beneath his cloak in an attempt at keeping warm. Then he looks at Dracula, noting the way he strokes his goatee, as if he can hear the gears in the vampire’s mind turning with each gesture.

Crossing his legs at the ankle, he leans back in quiet contemplation. Eyebrows gently furrow and his eyes dart around. Dracula then starts tilting his head and making gestures. What is he doing? Before Ganondorf gets a chance to ask, he stops, leaving them both in near silent confusion.

“Thank you,” Dracula finally speaks. “For… taking care of things while I practically shut down.”

Ganondorf massages his right shoulder and admits, “It’s not a problem at all. This isn’t exactly the time to be power-hungry and selfish. I owe you, anyway. I take it you’ve pretty much recovered?”

“I definitely feel better if that’s what you’re asking. I think I have a better grasp on what’s going on now at least. I can look at the project with a clear head again.”

“Well then. I’m still going to be making sure you’re eating properly.”

“Eh. Anyway, have you been understanding the chemistry books so far?”

“Aside from yesterday, I’m understanding them just fine. Fairly easy to grasp. I can’t put any of the books down.”

“Well, you just inhale books, don’t you?”

Ganondorf scoffs and shakes his head. Then he takes the empty plates and sets them aside. He lays on his back, and Dracula follows suit. The roof tiles are freezing cold, making the air around them feel worse. The voe stretches and looks at the stars, with all of the constellations being completely alien to him. His mind starts to wander over time. What shapes are there in the Castlevania skies? Who are they meant to be? What are their stories? Why are their colors pretty much all the same? A question for another day.

Chapter Text

Within his room, Ryuji finds himself bored out of his skull. With nothing better to do with his time, he roots through the things he managed to bring with him and finds an empty notebook and some pencils. With these discoveries, he makes the decision to open the book and write the first thing on his mind.

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

Day One

Dude, this infection thing sucks, I’m so done with it. I remember back in our days as phantom thieves when all of us would go to this sick ass ramen joint whenever we changed someone’s heart, and I would always order the shoyu chicken ramen (tho I much prefer Sojiro’s cafe. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Ogikubo, but Sojiro’s food always kicks ass.). I miss hanging out and getting some grub with the others, but our group just doesn’t feel complete without Fox and Queen. I’d love to go back to Leblanc or Ogikubo, but it just won’t feel the same. Never again.

Signed, 

Ryuji Sakamoto

Day Two

Well, I finally got my cast off. Thank god, that shit was itchy and painful. I’m not exactly sure if I can trust this vampire guy yet. He hasn’t really given me a reason to trust him. I do appreciate what he’s doing, but idk, something feels off about this dude. Maybe I can learn to trust him over time? I don’t freakin know. Mona doesn’t seem to trust him, but Joker seems to trust him, I think. As long as he doesn’t get backstabbed like that piece of shit Crow, then cool. I just wanna go to bed.

Signed,

Ryuji

Day Three

Saw one of those tentacle thingys today. Shit was horrifying. THOSE were the bastards that killed my friends and some other friends of these people that we’ve been bunking with for the last couple of days. It was in the vampire guy’s lab, and it was just struggling to escape those test tubes. GOOD. Keep that asshole in there until it stops freakin breathing. Oh yeah, I accidentally drank a bottle of bear blood. At this point, who gives a shit. There’s nothing to give a shit about anymore, I’m just done.

Signed,

Ryuji

Day Four

I was originally gonna write in this journal yesterday, but I just couldn’t. I miss Fox and Queen way too damn much. Yusuke taught me how to draw him, but my work couldn’t match his level if I tried. And I can’t exactly blame Joker for missing Koto. She was always scary as hell, but also the most awesome person to ever exist. She even let me draw a pic of her, and I think she liked it? Idk, Mona thought it looked stupid. 

NOT TRUE I NEVER SAID ANY CRAP LIKE THAT

Sorry, that damn cat just won’t shut the hell up. Anyway, life sucks, I’m going to bed. I miss Yusuke and Koto too much and I just wish they were here with us. Maybe I’ll ask Sophie about how I can cope, because I don’t know how much more I can take of this. 

Signed,

Ryuji (Tho you could probably figure that out by now)

Day Five

I know I was talking about this yesterday, but dude, I really miss Yusuke. His paintings and drawings would always bring a smile to my face. On top of drawings he made of me (they are stupid accurate by the way), he would always make some meme pics and random shit that would always make me laugh. I made a picture of him beating the crap out of the cat, but I don’t think he appreciated it.

YOU SUCK, SKULL

Jackass needs to learn to stay out of my journal. Maybe I should get him his own if we can find one in all this destruction. Anyway, I have nothing left to say, so uhhhhhhh….. shoyu chicken ramen is one of the best things ever. I'll beat the crap out of you if you say otherwise. 

Signed,

Ryuji

Day Six

Get this, vampire dude discovered that part of a fighter’s moveset makes them more at risk of getting infected and turning into one of those tentacle things. Holy shit, what if I’m weak? What if I’m just not strong enough to fend for myself. Hell, I can’t even run that fast. My stupid leg just can’t keep up with the other phantom thieves and I got hurt. How can I even survive on my own? Even vampire dude could catch up to me with no effort. At this point, I would be screwed without the others. I’d be tentacle thing chow by now. Haru could probably kick those things asses, but how can I compare? Maybe I just need to keep on training but vampire dude told me to rest my leg for a bit. I just don’t freaking know what to do.

Signed,

Ryuji (I guess signing each journal entry is just tradition at this point)

Day Seven

Haven’t been writing in this journal for a few weeks. I’ve just lost the motivation to do anything productive. It’s hard to sleep, I haven’t wanted to exercise ever since vampire dude told me to stay off my foot, and I’ve honestly started to lose all hope. This infection shit needs to end now, I’m gonna freakin lose it at this point.

Signed,

Ryuji

Day Eight

Dude, I know I’ve said this in other journal entries, but damn I miss Yusuke. I wanna go out and try to find him, but what’s the point? He was probably finished off by those tentacle things. At least he’s got Koto with him, so hopefully she’s kicking their asses. Knowing her, she’s probably already found shelter with some food and drinks and stuff, but I still can’t help but feel hopeless. How the hell is this infection shit gonna go away? Are the infected people even themselves any more? Are they even alive? I don’t freakin know and that scares the hell out of me.

Signed,

Ryuji

Day Nine

I haven’t told anybody yet, but I think I really liked Yusuke. Like, like like him, ya know? I had a hunch that he was in love with me or something, and I don’t really know who else could fall in love with me at this point. All of the good people are either dead or in love with some other people. That ain’t the only thing I miss tho. I miss my mom, I miss Yusuke’s ramen bowls, I just miss my old bed, my old room, Koto, staying in my room all day playing video games, kicking ass, all that stuff. I just wish I knew how to time travel. I miss the old days when we were beating the shit out of a pervy gym teacher, a politician (don’t we all hate them lol), a fly guy, and making the world a better place. But those days are over, I guess. I’ve barely felt any happiness since Koto and Yusuke went missing. We were a complete group back then. Sure we still got Joker, Panther, Noir, Oracle, Sophie, and that damn cat, but it just feels like I’m in a broken family, like that one movie with the blue guy. I just… I just don’t know what to do anymore. How can I feel any form of happiness when two of my friends are gone? The one thing that made me happy was Crow dying, but it doesn’t fill the void left by Queen and Fox. Nothing will.

Signed,

Ryuji

Day Ten

Been cleaning my shotgun a bit more today. I ain’t just fighting for my own life anymore, I’m fighting to make Koto and Yusuke proud. It’s pretty hard to find any motivation to get the hell out of bed every day, but those two are the main reasons I do so. I wanna make them proud, dammit. Unrelated, but I had an extra copy of my favorite manga. It’s this manga about this nerdy ass dude who believes in aliens, but not ghosts. He falls in love with this cool girl who believes in ghosts, but not aliens. That manga is just too funny, it makes me wanna merge without looking. I showed it to Futaba today and she loved it, she was cracking up every other page. And I finally felt a bit of happiness. Seeing her finally happy and both of us enjoying this manga, and I felt happy. For once. Hopefully this isn’t just some one-time shit, because I could really use more cerotonin in my life. 

SEROTONIN

Damn cat. 

Signed,

Ryuji

Day Eleven

Serotonin is gone now. It’s been a month since I’ve even touched this journal. Everything about life is complete shit now. You know how I said that I liked Yusuke? I’ve been trying to move on from losing him. I’ve honestly wanted to tell Ann that I like her, but I’m already feeling pretty shitty, so I don’t want any more heart break. I hope she likes me back, because I could really use some comfort and love right now. I was about to tell her today, but then I made an ass out of myself by tripping on a rug in front of her. I was an idiot. I’m still an idiot. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I need some of that serotonin back, because I just don’t know how the hell I can move forward. 

Signed,

Ryuji

Day Twelve

Since I’ve needed some of that serotonin, I decided to go into vampire dude’s wine cellar. Dude, that shit was good. I passed out after three bottles, and I finally felt something again. Right now, I feel like shit, but hey, at least I felt SOMETHING. I needed at least a brief moment of happiness. And even if I feel fisically ill right now, it was worth it.

PHYSICALLY. LEARN TO SPELL, SKULL.

Even though I feel like shit and can’t right properly. I needed that.

WRITE

Whatever.

Signed,

Ryuji

Day Thirteen

Took another break from this journal. It’s been two weeks now. I just can’t stay in this castle anymore. I’ve been stuck here for a few months now and I’m sick of this shit. I wanna go out into the world and have some fun, maybe get some ramen with Ann, but I can’t. Everywhere we go, it’s just those tentacle bastards. I wanna go out with my friends, but I FREAKING CAN’T. I’M SO DAMN SICK OF THOSE TENTACLE THINGS. I’M DONE WITH ALL OF THIS. 

Sorry about that. Skull’s just starting to go mad with this infection thing. I wanna help him feel better, but idk what the hell I could do. 

Signed,

Morgana

Day Fourteen

Koto, Haru, Ann, Joker, Futaba, Sophie, Mona, Little Mac, Leaf, vampire dude, Gerudo dude, Yusuke, I’m so sorry- I just can’t go on like this. There’s nothing left in this world that I could possibly fight for or live for. Everything has gone to shit and there’s probably nothing we could do to save it. I know I should really move on from everything, but I’ve tried. I’ve tried CONSTANTLY for the last few months to move on from losing Yusuke and Koto and this infection shit, but I can’t. Life just isn’t worth living, especially if our group just doesn’t feel complete anymore. It never will be. If you’re reading this, I’m probably already gone. Futaba, you can have all of my manga and video games, have fun. Joker, take care of everybody else, especially the cat and Sophie. Vampire dude and desert dude, thanks for giving us food and shelter and stuff. I really appreciate it. Little Mac, Leaf, thanks for trying to help me and my friends feel better. Mom, I love you, and thank you for giving me everything that a loving son could ever ask for. And Ann and Yusuke, I love you both, truly. I love you all (except for Crow, he can rot in hell). Goodbye. 

Signed, 

Ryuji Sakamoto

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The Aftermath

Dracula, from his laboratory, stands bolt upright. His ears start to rotate, and he turns for a bit. He can’t see any source of the gunshot. No, they can’t be under attack, right? It’s possible, but where he heard it from, unlikely. Nervous, he looks over to Ganondorf.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, his tone laced with panic.

Ganondorf turns his head and lightly tilts it. “No? Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, physically. I swear I heard something- I’ll be back.”

Without another word, the vampire races to Ryuji’s room and winces at the all too familiar stench of gunpowder and blood through the door.

He stands and stares at the door for a while before he notices something hit his leg. He looks down. Mona shakes his head and gets close to the door, only to retch at the smell.

Dracula knocks at the door and asks, “Ryuji? Are you in there?”

No response. Now with a pit in his stomach, he takes a moment to consider his next move.

He first moves Mona out of the door’s way.

Then?

He stares at it again, not blinking, realizing he may know what may lie on the other side of the door. His hands shakier than ever, he carefully reaches for the handle and grasps it.

After drawing a deep breath, he slowly opens the door. The stench of blood and gunpowder grows stronger and his eyes open wide in shock. His mouth is agape as much as he wants to fight back against his flehmen response. 

The room’s smell seeps into his very being and he’s stuck there in shock. He’s seen dead things before, he works with the undead. Seeing a body shouldn’t be so difficult and yet his body is filled with dread. 

It isn’t until someone else shouts that he finally snaps out of his state of shock and crashes back down to Earth.

“...oh my god, oh my god, Skull! Skull, do you read me?! Is it something I said?! Oh god, oh god… YOU! Vampire. Fix him!” Mona demands, trying to fight back tears.

With a nod, Dracula approaches Ryuji’s body. He mumbles to the body, “I’m sorry we couldn’t help you sooner.” Then he checks to see if he can even be saved. His skull is splintered into hundreds, if not thousands of small pieces. His brain paints the walls, and the last bit of life and capacity for hearing dies. He speaks up, “I’m so sorry. I don’t believe he can be saved. Even if I did bring him back… it wouldn’t be him.”

“What do you mean?!”

“I mean, I do not revive others. I make bodies reanimate from the dead. I can’t just bring their souls back, and Chaos knows I’ve tried.”

Mona nods and notices a notebook to the left, splattered with blood. Dracula looks at it, too, and picks it up. Then he starts looking through the entries, and audibly gasps once he realizes he’s reached the end of the entries.

“What?” Mona asks, “What does it say?”

Without another word, the vampire lowers the book to Mona’s eye level. He takes the book and reads over the entries himself. It is promptly dropped and the poor cat can’t help but cover his mouth with his paws.

“...How are either of us going to tell the others?” Dracula monotones. Mona simply shrugs and watches while Dracula drapes a sheet over the body. Then the vampire continues, “for later… he will be receiving a proper burial, after all. It’s best if they don’t directly see the body.”

“Well, I’m not too good at delivering bad news,” Mona chokes, breaking down into yowls and meows of sorrow. 

“I’ll have to tell them, then.”

“I’ll stay here for a minute, if that’s alright.”

“I understand. Take all the time you need.”

After taking the book, he turns and walks away to the others’ rooms to see where they are. In the corner of his eye, he spots Ann running towards presumably Mona. Once she spots Dracula, she eventually slows to a halt and looks up.

“Hey…” she pants, “Did you see where Mona went? He was just napping and then suddenly scrambled away.”

This poor young soul… my heart breaks knowing I have to tell her. He clears his throat and replies, “He’s… in Ryuji’s room?”

“Why?”

“You might want to sit down for this.” He uses his magic to pull up a couple chairs and they both take a seat. “I’m so sorry… Ryuji Sakamoto has died today.”

Her eyes widen in disbelief, and she notices the notebook in his hands. Then she gets a chance to look over Ryuji’s suicide note and slowly breaks down into tears. Dracula’s eyes soften a little and he takes the book back. He isn’t quite sure what Ann would even be comfortable with. Without a moment’s notice, she lunges forward and hugs him around the neck, weeping into his shoulder. Although shocked, he quickly composes himself and returns the hug, simply patting her shoulder. Eventually, she lets go and slowly goes towards Ryuji’s room. He nods, stands up, and sends the chairs away.

He continues searching for the others, and finds Futaba, Ren and Leaf sitting in her room. With a deep sigh, he knocks on the open door to let them know he’s here. The three look up at him like bugs from under a rock. He draws another deep breath and laments, “I’m sorry to disrupt you three, but I have some… terrible news.” He looks at the floor then back at them. “Your friend. Ryuji Sakamoto. He… he died today.”

“What?!” Ren shouts, standing up. He quickly snatches the book out of Dracula’s hands and reads through the entry over and over again. He looks at Dracula again in shock and lets Futaba read it next. He starts to pace, muttering to himself. Once Dracula finally gets the book back, he apologizes for their losses, and goes to inform the others. He faintly hears Leaf crying all over again as he walks away.

From there, he gets the reactions one would expect from a sudden suicide. Ganondorf was shocked and upset, but not devastated. Mac punching a door off its hinges in anger. Haru holds her head in her hands and cries. Violet folded her arms and looked at the ground dejected. When he returns to the scene, he does so with a transport cart for the body. Ever so carefully, he picks up Ryuji’s body and moves him onto it. Then he personally ensures he makes it to the morgue and starts on funeral arrangements.

Chapter Text

Church bells ring out across the Romanian skies and through the castle’s chapel. In front of the portraits sits a closed casket. Made of good quality cherry wood with the Phantom Thief emblem carved into it. The handles are made of matte rose gold and the inside is lined with black velvet. Not that it’d be visible anyway, as the funeral is rightfully a closed casket one. Dracula watches as the remaining seven enter the chapel. He didn’t really want to hold another memorial so relatively soon after the first.

When the portrait is finally brought to him, he studies it for a moment and he delicately places it next to Yusuke’s portrait. He turns on his heel and waves a hand to light the torches and candles in the room, then takes a moment to study the others. He holds his hands behind his back, waiting for everyone else to show up. With a solemn nod, he turns back to the casket to pay his respects. He lowers his head for a few moments and shuts his eyes. Once done, he turns to the left and steps aside.

“Visitation starts now,” he monotones, “Take all the time you need.”

The remaining phantom thieves, one by one, make it to the casket to pay their respects. All Dracula can hear is indistinct muttering, and he chooses not to eavesdrop. He counts them, then realizes their cat isn’t there. He steps off the platform to find Mona. Not in a corner, not on a chair, in a drawer, on top of the door. Nothing. Until he spots a tail flicking underneath a pew and lets himself go prone. The poor kitty is curled up and crying into his fur. Dracula’s expression softens and reaches over to pet him. Eventually, he scoops Mona up into his arms.

Morgana squeaks past his tears, “I could’ve saved him. I didn’t do anything.”

“Shhhhh…” Dracula sibilates, holding the cat to his chest. “There’s only so much you can do in cases like this. The best thing you can do right now is to pay your respects at his casket.”

“Fine…”

“We’re right here. This is upsetting for everyone. The loss of a life at a time like this is already bad. To lose that life to suicide feels even worse because sometimes you just miss the signs.”

Mona starts to purr into Dracula’s coat and they make their way to the casket. The cat looks over and uses his paws to wipe his tears away. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Skull. I was so caught up in our usual crap that… I didn’t see how much you needed help. I hope that…” he hiccups, “I hope that wherever you are, you can forgive me.”

“There… that should feel a little better.”

“A little.”

“It’ll get easier with time.”

Morgana nods and squirms free from Dracula’s arms and onto Ren’s shoulder.

With a polite nod, Dracula returns to his post and leans against the wall. Soon, he is joined by Ganondorf. The vampire doesn’t even bother moving away from him. Honestly, he probably needs the company. As if he’d admit it out loud. As each thief moves away from the casket to a pew, the rest are joined by Leaf, then Charizard, then Little Mac. 

“Would’ve loved to box with ya, boss,” Little Mac laments, setting a hand on the casket. “Tell Doc I miss him like crazy.”

Eventually, everyone else makes their way to a pew and takes a seat. Dracula takes his place in front of them and takes a deep breath.

No funeral is ever easy.

“It is with great sorrow that we are gathered here like this. The loss of any life at a time like this is already tragic. It being a suicide is worse. There are so many messages a victim sends as a cry for help, and unfortunately, we missed them. If anyone here has a eulogy prepared, you may present it now,” Dracula imparts. Then he stands next to the casket, waiting. Knowing at least one would be presented.

Without fail, Ren takes the stand, his eyes bloodshot. As if he hadn’t stopped crying for days.

“Ryuji…” Ren starts, “When I first showed up at Shujin Academy, everyone else seemed to genuinely hate me. Everything I did was under scrutiny the moment I stepped off the train to Yongen-Jaya. Except for Ryuji. He was the first to be genuinely friendly to me. He was my best friend and a reliable phantom thief. Always enthusiastic and gung-ho about helping people. He wanted to do what he felt was right. I always admired his sense of justice. And it breaks my heart today knowing he felt so isolated and hopeless that he went through with this. I hoped I’d never see the day I’d have to bury my best friend. Wherever he, Koto and Yusuke are… I hope they find some peace of mind. Sayonara.”

When the speech comes to a close, there is soft applause and Ren makes an effort to not cry all over again. He takes his seat, and Little Mac soon replaces him.

Mac heaves a heavy sigh and reads off a sheet of paper. “Our time together was brief, but I saw a lot of myself in him. His passion for helping others and love for his sport was inspiring. He will be missed.” Then he sits back down, and nobody else really gets up.

A thought comes to Dracula’s mind, Maybe the thieves worked together on Ren’s speech, or they didn’t have much to add.  

He speaks up, asking, “Could the pallbearers please come take the casket to the gravesite?”

Approximately six lesser vampires enter the room and take Ryuji’s casket on their shoulders. With militaristic efficiency, they turn and walk out the door. They are soon followed by the rest of the thieves, then Little Mac, Leaf, Charizard, Ganondorf, and finally Dracula. It isn’t long until the group is in the blistering cold and make their way to the graveyard. The casket is placed on a platform above the grave and snow beats against the surface.

Dracula reads off his typical song and dance before burial. He’s said it so many times now that he doesn’t even register it anymore, to the point where whenever it happens, he can’t help but feel detached. Though, it’s strange, that feeling of detachment usually happens much sooner. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that this time a child died while under his protection and he failed to save them. He doesn’t know, he just feels like an outsider looking in, as if he’s floating outside his body staring at the scene. Watching as the casket is lowered into its final resting place, and the thieves make the choice to bury their friend.

He sees himself and the others eventually make their way inside once the casket is underground. Slowly, they reach a sheltered courtyard and Dracula sees himself keeping his distance. Finally, he crashes back down to Earth and registers this really did happen. He let this happen. He basically sat idly by as a young man slowly lost his mind to the point where he took his own life. Although he hides behind a mask of stoicism, he can’t help but feel a great sense of shame. The moment he knows nobody even has him in his peripheral vision, he disappears without a trace.

Ganondorf looks around, and quickly notices Dracula isn’t there. He wanders the courtyard looking for him, even checking the shadows. Nothing. He just vanished. He asks around, and nothing. Eventually, Ganondorf sighs and stands aside to watch the remaining survivors. He notices Joker flinch a bit and check his phone. He squints, but chooses not to question it.

“Joker? What’s going on? Where’s Skull?” Sophie asks, concern written across her face as she looks around from Joker’s phone.

“Well…” Panther trails off, now realizing they have to tell her. She glances at Futaba.

Futaba stares back, then glances at Haru, who glances at Morgana. Morgana looks at Joker, only for everyone else to look at him.

“Where’s Skull?” Sophie reiterates. “I want to see him, too. Is he still in his bed?”

“Er…” Morgana pauses to choose his words carefully. “No. No, Skull isn’t in bed.”

“Well, where is he? Do any of you know where he is?”

Ren adds, “You don’t remember? I told you last week. Ryuji died, Sophia. He died and joined the other kami.”

“Right,” Sophia replies, “I’ll.. just say hi to him when he gets back!” Her eyes start to dart around, as if clinging onto hope that they’re just pulling her leg. That this is just some sick joke and Ryuji could come out from behind a tree laughing while covered in dirt.

“Sophia. Listen to me. Please,” Morgana pleads. “Ryuji can’t come back. You should know that the dead can’t come back.”

“Guys, this isn’t funny.”

“We aren’t joking, Soph.” Futaba punctuates by stomping her foot.

Without another word, Sophia breaks down into tears. She is inconsolable. Ren holds his phone close as if hugging it, and goes to show her Ryuji’s grave so she at least gets to know where he is.

Chapter Text

Ren wanders the castle, holding Morgana in his arms. He glances out the window and spots Dracula resting on a rooftop alone. Visibly concerned, he runs towards the nearest balcony to the rooftop and grapples there. As soon as his feet hit the roof tiles, Dracula flinches as if he was just woken up.

Dracula glares up and snaps, “What was that for?”

“Sorry- We didn’t mean to spook you,” Joker apologizes. “I just wanted to see if you were okay after yesterday. You just disappeared.”

“Spook me. Of all people? Please.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Are you okay?”

“You. Asking me. If I’m okay. I could ask the same of you. I know how hard it is to bury someone you care about.”

“I’m doing… okay. It helps that I can visit his grave. But what about you?”

“Yeah,” Morgana adds, “You seem to be deflecting the question or changing the subject.”

“I’m fine. It’s a stupid question, that’s all.”

Ren stops to consider the situation. Okay, obviously this approach isn’t working. Perhaps getting him to talk about his interests will get him to open up? “Well… what about… hm.” He thinks again, to choose his words carefully. “You do science, right? How are things going on that end?”

Dracula suddenly sits upright and looks at the two. Without warning, he gestures for them to follow and leaps off the rooftop, to the balcony underneath. Once Ren catches up, he’s led directly to the library and the attached laboratory. A test subject is brought in from the floor. As much as Ren would like to ask about how he does that, he isn’t sure he even wants to know the answer. As if from nowhere, some blackboards are pulled from a nearby wall.

Then Dracula starts his monologue. “So I’ve been researching the infection phenomenon for months now. In the very beginning stages I’d thought that this was some form of virus. I spent several days repeatedly testing various known antivirals to see what would harm it. However, the day I had a bit of a breakdown, I had a eureka moment. For context, I’d have to explain the different symptoms at play.”

Dracula then takes one blackboard and gestures to the list.

“Necrosis, joint dislocation, the development of tentacles replacing the limbs. Upon initial infection you only see at the very least a bullet sized hole where the tentacle made its initial injection. Over time, it starts to seemingly bruise and eventually, the body rots from that central point. This naturally degrades one’s mental state and they descend into mania. Another possibility depending on the conditions of the patient is psychosis,” Dracula shoves the blackboard away and pulls another to him. Then he continues, “There have been several reports in the past of infected attacks and most of them appear to have preserved their intellect in some way, possibly to a point where one could potentially speak. They have also been reported collaborating and that in the latest stages, they are nearly if not completely invulnerable. It was at this moment that I realized I had the completely wrong type of illness to begin with.”

“So what’s the current theory then?” Ren finally asks.

“The current theory is that the infection is either some form of parasite or some form of bioweapon. Even then, I don’t exactly know for sure if I’m accurate.”

“So you’re testing the different medicines for those to see if anything works.”

“Exactly. Here I thought Ganondorf was the only intelligent one out of everyone else staying here.”

“Understandable.”

“By the way, I noticed that you’ve just been listening to me chatter. I’m guessing you thought I’d magically open up my deepest darkest secrets to you if I just rambled long enough. Did I get that right?”

Ren goes completely pale. “I- I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ren. Dear child. I have been manipulating people since before some of your ancestors were born. I saw through it immediately.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I just admire your boldness in trying to manipulate me of all people. And for what end?”

“Sir, if I’m being completely honest, I did not go in with the intent of manipulating you. I noticed you had trouble opening up and decided it would be a-”

Dracula then interrupts, “It would be a good idea to get me to talk about something I care about.” Ren looks down, as if disappointed in himself. With a look of pity, Dracula folds his arms. Then the test tube and blackboards are sent away. “Well, I respect the attempt. Perhaps I’ll let you try to pry information out of me. Just to see what you’ll do.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Ren hears a familiar voice ring through his head. 

I am thou, thou art I…

It shall become the wings of rebellion

That breaketh thy chains of captivity.

With the birth of the Upright Hermit Persona,

I have obtained the winds of blessing that

Shall lead to freedom and new power…

Ren shakes off the feeling and finally returns Dracula’s handshake. Now to think of a way to get more information.

“So. Tell me how you’ve been coping so far with Ryuji’s loss,” Dracula prods, sitting in a chair and leaning back. Then he gestures to the nearest chair to him. Ren then nods and takes a seat. 

“Well,” he starts, “I’ve been coping about as well as anyone can in this situation. You know how it is… dead lover on top of losing so far two of your best friends. Three counting Koto. I feel… sort of guilty. Like I could’ve saved them.”

“I see what you mean. That sort of pain is hard to deal with. I will admit you’re taking it much better than I ever did when I was young. Once, in my thirties, I think? I was bedridden for a very long time from grief.”

“Shit… I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“Wait.”

“You don’t have to answer- I was just curious.”

“I lost someone I cared about and I’ll leave it at that. Got it?” Dracula sighs and looks out a window.

“Wait, weren’t you going to explain earlier?”

“Get out.”

“I thought you said--”

Dracula shouts, “I said, get out!”

With a nod, the duo leave Dracula to his own devices in the library. Eventually, they make it to their room and lay flat on the bed. Morgana curls up right under Ren’s arm and starts to purr. He starts to pet the cat while staring out into space.

A social link? Here?

What kind of Hell would Ren even be in for at this point when he’s establishing new social links? He looks at the door when his thoughts are interrupted by a knock.

He sits up, quietly apologizing to Mona for disturbing him when he was obviously comfy. “Come in,” he says.

“Ren?” Futaba asks, “I wanted to check on you.”

“Join the club, I guess.”

“Who asked first?”

“Dracula.”

“Oh—“ Futaba sits at the foot of the bed and toys with the hem of her shirt. “Well, do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Please don’t.”

The two sit in the room, bothered by the awkward silence at play. As if neither could figure out how to carry on the conversation at hand. In a moment of milk-spilling brilliance, Morgana finally starts a new conversation before he can claw his way out of his skin.

“The ocean is a soup,” Morgana proudly claims.

Ren and Futaba look at each other, then at the cat. Then back at each other. Shrug. “What happened to Mona?” Futaba asks.

“I think the guilt has gotten to his head and he’s spiraling into madness,” Ren jests, patting Morgana’s head. “Again.”

“What was the first time?”

“When he was trying to figure out the secret to his existence, as one does.”

“Ah yes, the problem every sentient being understands.” Futaba is then met with a stare. “What? I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic or anything.”

“Well you sounded like it.”

Morgana again speaks up, “Every day I wake up and realize the gravity of my sins.”

“Random question, Futaba,” Ren starts, “Can cats receive therapy?”

“Probably, I dunno.”

The two pause to see if Morgana will say anything else. Only for him to start licking himself like he didn’t say a thing. As if he didn’t blatantly admit to feeling guilty about what happened with Ryuji.

Chapter Text

There has been a strange scuttling about the castle lately. Like there’s a weirdly large rodent wandering the halls, though it has yet to spread its disease. Dracula and Sumire are likely the only ones safe to handle whatever they’re trying to catch. The vampire keeps his ear glued to the walls until he hears it. A squeak. Not of a mouse nor a rat.

What’s the name of that little creature? Leaf growing from its head… different colors… It’s on the tip of my tongue. Dracula starts to cycle through his options.

“What are you thinking about?” Sumire finally asks.

Dracula sighs and glances over. “It isn’t a rat… not a mouse. I know it’s something small. What’s its name… small, they come in multiple colors, leaf on the head? Ring a bell?” 

“I believe that’s a ‘pikmin’.”

“Thank you. I believe it’s one of those.”

With a wave of the hand, a fairly large glass jar is moved to the same floor as the two. Then the stones start to move to trap the pikmin where it is in the walls. Once the mouth of the jar is placed against the wall, the poor creature is spat out into it, and Dracula shuts the jar before it can escape. Its beady little eyes stare up at him as if pleading for its life. In its little arm is the smallest entry wound Dracula has ever seen.

“Well,” Dracula marvels at the pikmin. “It’s a good thing we found it when we did. It’s so early in the infected stages that it doesn’t pose much of a threat.” Upon further inspection, he can’t help but find the creature cute. A shame it’s going to experience such a horrific fate. He stands upright, jar in arm, and goes to the laboratory. Nervous, Sumire follows him, not sure what he has planned.

Once there, the jar is set aside, and Dracula starts work on a relatively large terrarium on the windowsill. First, an unused glass container is added after being modified to hold a water filter. Once installed, it’s a matter of adding some soil, rocks, sand, and hiding spots like flower pots that Sumire was kind enough to gather in the meantime. It takes roughly half an hour, but eventually the terrarium is not just complete, it’s secure so the pikmin can’t escape. Once the water is added, the jar is placed inside, opened, and turned onto its side. The little creature looks around, visibly terrified, until it finally crawls out and sits in the pool of water. 

With utmost care, the jar is removed and the container is shut. 

Dracula pulls up a chair and sits to observe the bizarre… thing. Is it a plant? Animal? It has traits resembling both, so I’ll assume it’s some form of fungus.  

Sumire leans forward a bit and tilts her head. She asks, “Is it safe for the others to leave their rooms?”

“Ah, thank you for reminding me,” Dracula answers, glancing up from the pikmin. “Yes. Yes, it’s safe. I don’t think this little creature will escape any time soon.” He puts his finger close to the glass, and the pikmin responds to the stimulus by putting its little hand where his finger is.

She nods and trots off to let them know the problem’s been solved. Slowly, people start to poke their heads into the library to see what exactly has been caught where it was decided there wasn’t a problem. Ganondorf is the first to show up and kneels on the ground. He tilts his head a bit, only for the pikmin to scamper into a flower pot.

He laughs a little, trying to hide any anxiety. So that thing is infected. Good thing it’s secure, then. 

“So we’re just observing this… creature to see its progression?” Ganondorf finally summons the courage to ask.

“Close,” Dracula clarifies. “It’s actually here so I can see changes in its behavior over time. Any idea what these things eat?”

“Nectar, it seems.”

“Interesting. So does it harvest the nectar from flowers like a pollinator?”

“No.”

“What.”

“No. Apparently, the stuff just pools on the ground for them to eat later. It’s allegedly very sticky.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Me neither, that’s just what I’ve been told.”

Hesitantly, Dracula nods and goes to the kitchen. “Please keep an eye on it then. I’ll be back.”

Once out of the library, he hurries to where he needs to go and prepares a very simple sugar syrup that has a similar sticky consistency. Sort of like what he’d expect from honey. The batch is bottled in an old olive oil container, and he returns to the library.

He goes through his untouched scientific equipment and finds a thankfully clean petri dish. He pours some of the nectar replacement into the dish and sets it in the terrarium for later. He returns to his seat and continues observing. 

Cautiously, the blue pikmin creeps out of the flower pot and towards the petri dish. It circles the new object, tilting its head. After a while it reaches its tiny hand out and touches the nectar. The pikmin sniffs the substance, then licks it off. Once sure it’s safe, the critter starts to drink the stuff like it hasn’t eaten in weeks. 

Dracula lightly turns his head to Ganondorf. “For your safety, only I’m going to feed it.”

“Fair enough,” Ganondorf replies. He relaxes a little, only to jump when cloth brushes against his shoulder. Upon looking to his right, he realizes, Ok, it’s just Futaba, good. He snaps a bit, “Don’t creep up on us like that!”

“Sorry, I just wanted to see the little maaaan,” she cooes at the pikmin. Out of curiosity, the pikmin removes its face from the nectar. It tilts its little head. “Yes, I’m talking to you. You’re just a silly little guy. Little tiny man. Can I pet him?”

“Absolutely not!” Dracula exclaims, looking between her and the pikmin. “It’s infected.”

“Don’t call him an it, that’s mean.”

“Futaba, so help me, once you name it you start getting attached to it.”

“His name is Orb, and I love him.”

“Chaos, give me patience,” Dracula mutters while he pinches his nose bridge.

Ganondorf looks over and raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t the line ‘give me strength’?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes. But, if I get any stronger and then lose my patience, someone is going to die.”

“Fair.”

The two watch on as the pikmin responds to Futaba’s baby talk. The only good thing being that this would technically be a good starting point as to how it responds to speech.

Dracula decides to stop fighting it and lets her talk to the pikmin however she wants. However, he will drink holy water before he ever lets her reach her hand in to touch the thing.

Suddenly, she gasps and lets out a squee. Surprised, the two look over and notice her grab a miniature flower pot from her pocket. “Do you think he’ll wear it??” She asks. Dracula looks at the sheer delight on her face and can’t bring himself to tell her no. He holds his hand out and receives the pot. He puts it in a pair of tweezers and carefully lowers it into the terrarium.

Orb jumps up and grabs the little pot and carefully fits his head-stem and leaf through it, wearing it as a hat. Then he resumes eating his nectar like a good little sin against both God and man.

Futaba takes out her phone and keeps snapping photographs of him. Kicking her feet. Smiling like a little kid. Dracula leans back a bit and observes her. He is actively fighting back a smile, since this is the first time he’s ever seen any of them genuinely happy. Perhaps he’ll just happen to feel generous and let them help if they want. 

Ganondorf looks over and gives a knowing smile. He jokes, “If I didn’t know any better, Vlad… I’d say you’re getting attached.”

Dracula’s entire body stiffens and he snaps back, “No, I most certainly am NOT.”

“That’s sort of a confirmation in itself, and you know it.”

“Silence.”

“You know you want to get attached.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s happening whether you want it to or not,” Ganondorf teases, pulling Dracula close by the shoulders.

“I know this and it’s terrifying,” Dracula snarks under his breath. He feels his face flush from embarrassment and hides it under his silver hair. 

Ganondorf braces himself for Dracula to pull away. Only, when he looks, Dracula hasn’t moved away. Sure, he’s curled up smaller and trying to hide himself, but he isn’t running away or anything. He takes the opportunity to thread the vampire’s hair through his fingers, partially nervous he’s going to bite or run away. Surprisingly, he still hasn’t left, as if resigning himself to the fact he’s going to get attached whether he likes it or not. 

Futaba smiles at the two and also takes a photo. However, the shutter sound spooks Dracula back to Earth. He sits up and moves out of Ganondorf’s grip. 

She nervously laughs and apologizes. “Sorry. I didn’t want to startle you.”

Dracula simply nods and lets himself at least crack a smile.

Chapter Text

Futaba taps away at her computer, making sure everything is in working order before she adds the final part she needs. She looks to where she would’ve plugged in the USB drive with her preferred OS… if she had it. Not like she can leave the castle, anyway. Well, what’s stopping me from just asking for help?

With nothing better to do, she stands up and goes to the library. Before she bothers Dracula, she goes up to Orb’s terrarium and watches him vibe. A few weeks of interaction has helped their bond, even as the little pikmin slowly decays from his condition. Not much of a change to his behavior, at least. She even labeled his nectar dish with some masking tape and a permanent marker.

Before she can leave, the pikmin taps on the glass and waves. She turns her attention back to Orb, who starts to sing. She bobs her head to the tune and smiles. Once Orb leaves to make a small bridge and platform over his water dish, she turns towards Dracula. 

“Dracula?” She asks sheepishly.

Dracula looks up from his book and tilts his head. “Hm? Did you need something?”

“I… I’m almost done with my new computer. I need it to do my job among the phantom thieves but I’m missing the operating system. I need a USB with the system on it to download it. Do you think we could go out and find one?”

“Well…” he heaves a deep sigh, “I’m going out there with you. The nearest tech shop is a fair distance away and there’s no way in Hell I’m letting you go alone.”

Futaba quickly hugs him. “Thank you!”

The two make their way to the castle doors, leave Death in charge while Dracula is out, and leave. Before Futaba can ask how they intend to get down from the castle’s altitude, Dracula holds her tight and they fly down to the surface. Once she’s set down, they make their way to the nearest technology store. A walk there is roughly an hour if they aren’t attacked on the trip there or back.

As they walk, she notices that Dracula’s cape has draped itself over her like it has a mind of its own. Futaba grabs onto the fabric and is almost surprised at its texture. It’s incredibly soft, like it's made from only the finest materials money could buy. Not only that, the cape is weirdly stretchy like skin. When she tries to stretch the cape, she can’t help but notice him wince. So is the cape an extension of himself? Like he feels it just as much as he’d feel someone pinch his arm? She stops tugging on his cape and simply appreciates the fabric.

“Hey… I wanted to tell you something,” Futaba mutters.

“Hm?” Dracula asks, glancing down at her.

“I wanted to thank you. For everything you’ve done for all of us. You have done nothing but give us everything we could need without demanding anything back. You could’ve put us to work at any point and you chose not to.”

“Well… I saw you were all in need. This isn’t the time to be opportunistic and prey on the needy.”

“I mean, I don’t know any other villains willing to go to the lengths you’ve gone to. Feeding us. Sheltering us. Healing us when we’re sick or injured. Planning funerals. It can’t be easy.”

“It isn’t. I have some deeply personal reasons I do any of this. I don’t want to talk about them.”

“That’s alright. You’ve listened to our problems. We’ll listen to yours when you’re ready to talk.”

Dracula can’t help but laugh and crack a sad smile. He takes on a joking intonation. “Yeah, when the rest of Hell freezes over.”

“Well, I said something like that, too. Ren and the gang just have this way of letting your true self show. They’ll find your treasure room eventually,” Futaba replies in almost a sing-song tone.

“What does that even mean? Are you being metaphorical or literal?”

“I’d call it a metaphor.”

“I see. I’m guessing it has to do with your phantom thief thing.”

“Oh, that’s a very long story. But, we’re getting off topic. My point is that you had every right to keep all of your resources to yourself and not help anyone, but you made the choice to help us. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we’re grateful.”

“I’m doing what anyone in my position should be doing.”

“We owe you our lives.”

“I… thank you. Why bring it up now?”

“Ryuji’s loss had me really thinking. Life’s short and it’s valuable. I’m lucky enough to still have mine and it’s thanks to you.”

Dracula can’t help but smile. “Of course.”

Once they find the abandoned tech store, Dracula takes his claws and tears the door down. He then steps aside and gestures inside. Futaba takes her phone, turns on the flashlight, and enters. Dracula is on her heels and lets her take the lead. Their footsteps echo through the empty building. 

That is, until Futaba comes to a sudden stop. 

She moves her light down to the floor and steps back. 

The smell hits Dracula before he sees anything. He notices a splatter in the beam of light and the tip of cold and grey fingers. He realizes what’s there before she does and quickly shuts off the flashlight for her own good. 

Without a second thought, he holds her hand and starts to echolocate. With an idea of where he’s trying to go, they both step over a body on the floor and towards the computer stuff in the store.

Everything is in different variations of gray to him, but the stench hits him before he processes what he’s seeing. His ear twitches when he hears Futaba retch from the smell of death permeating the area. He notices that he’s starting to salivate at the smell of human blood. He hasn’t had a taste of the stuff in months.

He shakes his head to fight his instincts and starts forward. Only to be tugged back slightly.

She pleads, “Dracula, please, I want to be able to see the OS packaging. I don’t think your noises will help me see any of that.”

He opens his mouth to protest but then realizes he can’t protect her forever. Instead of outright saying no, he answers, “Let me find where the operating systems are first. Do you trust me?”

“I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Right. Follow my lead.”

It takes a minute and some stumbling about in the dark, but Dracula eventually finds the software and sighs out of relief. There doesn’t seem to be anything too gruesome.

Finally, Dracula assures her, “You’re okay to turn your light back on. I promise. I’ll keep watch.”

“Thank you,” she squeaks. Her light is turned back on and she moves through the area looking for what she needs.

He stands guard nearby, actively fighting his instincts. It’s so tempting to just walk up to one of them… maybe bite one. I don’t know how long they’ve been here, but it can’t be too long ago if they haven’t decayed that much. No. That’s a terrible idea, she needs me. I basically promised to protect her and I’m going to stick to that. But if I could sink my teeth into just one.

As if moving on his own, he takes a gentle step back. Then he hesitates. Praying to whatever god is left that Futaba finds what she needs so they can leave.

He looks back at her and explains, “I’m going to patrol for threats. Take this while you search.” He gives her a knife in case she needs to protect herself.

“Okay,” she pauses, afraid. “Be safe.”

With a curt nod, Dracula wanders off, and when he’s sure he’s out of her earshot, he starts checking the dead. Wondering which one would be the freshest. 

Then he starts to wonder, what even happened here ? 

The place doesn’t just smell like death. 

There is a light scent of burning hair, plastic, and rubber.

He notices some sparks in the corner of his eye and stops. The wires spark more and he flinches at some distinct popping sounds. The few lights above that still work start to flicker and crackle like someone is trying to get the power back on. He needs to hurry.

Upon closer inspection, the bodies seem to have bites taken out of them. No burns or anything either, rather, gaping wounds that imply what’s most likely stabbing.

There seems to be a pattern, too.

These injuries are either around roughly the pterion of the skull or roughly between ribs 3 and 4 to reach the heart without having to break the sternum. Whatever did this wanted to kill these people quickly. If it was an infected, that means this place was used to store food for a while. This theory… sort of works? After all, anything will take the path of least resistance, especially from a long distance. If it were from a shorter distance than whatever did this would’ve gone for the subclavian artery.

He picks up the pace until he finally finds a fresh enough body slumped against a wall, with a gun loose in their hand. 

Without a second thought, he slices into the subclavian with a claw and laps up the blood of the dead. Soon, he starts to lose himself in the taste. His teeth sink deeper into their skin and he starts to tear the shoulder apart. 

He greedily scratches at their skin, not even caring they can’t fight back. It only makes catching his prey easier. To stop it from slumping further, he pins it down, completely lost in his inherently selfish need for human blood.

It is only when the body is completely drained that he realizes he lost control of his body. A slave to his most primal instincts. He can still feel what’s left of their blood on his face and shrinks into himself. 

After slinking into the nearest restroom, he races against time to clean himself up.

Eventually, he finds his way back to Futaba, unable to look her in the eye. Knowing damn well he basically abandoned her for an ultimately selfish reason.

Futaba looks over and smiles. She holds up a small box and proclaims, “Found it!”

“That’s great,” he sighs. Before he can say anything else, he hears clattering. They aren’t alone.

In the distance, he hears, ‘Is anyone here?’ and the voice is clear as day. He breaks into a cold sweat.

He splutters, “We need to go. Now. Quick.”

“Why?” Futaba starts to panic.

“Don’t worry about it, don’t worry about it,” Dracula takes her hand in his and starts to hurry towards the door. Only, he spots red coattails past an aisle and ducks down after halting.

Futaba stops just behind him, not understanding what has him so afraid. Then she hears another voice.

“Vampire activity. I thought for sure he would’ve stayed in his castle with all this. What could he possibly want with a place like this?”

Dracula slowly creeps forward to get a better look. As he suspected-- Juste Belmont. Why here? Why now? The two break for the exit while they think he’s distracted and keep running. 

An axe flies past his face and he turns in the direction it came from, moving Futaba behind him.

“Halt!” Juste shouts, prompting the two to stop. “What are you doing with that poor young lady?”

“You have the wrong idea, Belmont. She was with me from the start,” Dracula tries to clarify.

“You think I’m going to fall for your lies? I’ve been looking all over for survivors and you just happen to have one with you? Willingly? I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe what you want, I’m not going to harm her.”

“He’s telling the truth!” Futaba butts in, peeking out from behind him. “He doesn’t have a reason to lie about this.”

“Calm down, fair lady. I can see his lies have infected you, as well. Just like the disease he brought about,” Juste proclaims, taking the vampire killer into his hands.

“You think I caused all this?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Why would I do this, then? I don’t benefit from anything this infection does.” Faced with the possibility of actually being wrong, Juste rolls his eyes and lashes with his whip. Thinking quickly, Dracula shields his head with his cape and sighs. “Great, so we’re doing this now. Hide. Quickly.”

Futaba nods and hides behind a tree.

Without another moment of hesitation, he causes flames to erupt from the floor, consistently putting them in Juste’s path. The Belmont has none of it and deftly dodges each attack and again tries to hit his enemy. Now in close range, Dracula punches Juste in the nose. 

With this extra time, he teleports behind the enemy Belmont and sends meteors hurtling his way. While he does hit Juste, he isn’t as hurt as Dracula would hope. A dagger is sent towards his face, though it’s soon caught mere inches from between his eyes and driven into the dirt. 

His eyes start to glow, and with his hand raised, rays of green jettison upwards. As if like rain, the rays hit the ground. Unfortunately, Juste knows all Dracula’s tricks and lands a couple hits. 

Before he can take any more damage, Dracula shifts into a wolf and darts a safe distance away. Then he returns to normal only to kneel on the ground. That hurt more than I expected. To buy himself time, he charges demonic megiddo as fast as he can and sends the black fireball hurtling towards Juste.

Without thinking, Futaba runs out to Dracula to make sure he’s okay.

“I’m fine! Get back, I don’t want you hurt!” Dracula shouts, wincing from the pain combined with the shouting.

“Well, you’re hurt! I can’t just sit back!” she protests.

“You’re going to die out here!”

“I don’t care! Just let me help you.”

In the corner of his eye, Dracula notices a glass flask flying towards him. Without hesitation, he swats it away, resulting in a tree catching fire. With some amount of effort, he stands back up and manages to cast Dark Inferno. 

Juste is soon caught off guard, causing him to drop the vampire killer. Without thinking, he takes a dagger in his hands and rushes Dracula down like a madman.

The vampire grapples with his attacker, who keeps viciously stabbing and jabbing at him. Soon, his clothes are torn and a knife is driven into his shoulder-- if Dracula hadn’t moved his head sooner, it would’ve been in his skull.

He hisses and throws Juste a safe distance away.

Spotting a moment of weakness, Juste throws his last dagger at him, only to graze his side.

The dagger flies through Dracula’s cape and behind him.

Directly into Futaba’s stomach.

Both Juste and Dracula stare in horror. Though, the Belmont is the first to move. Not to finish the job, but to grab the vampire killer and run.

“Wait!” Dracula shouts after him, “You can’t just-- Damnit!” 

He turns to her and scoops her into his arms. Then he starts to move as fast as he can towards the castle.

Her heartbeat starts to ring in his head. He’s running out of time. 

Hey… Dracula hears her voice. This has to be her train of thought.

Hey… I know you can hear me.

They soon become airborne, Dracula’s cape becoming wings despite his injury. I hear you, Futaba. You and your heartbeat.

Thank you for trying to protect me.

I’m doing what a responsible person should. You’ll be okay, we’ll patch you up once we return to the castle. He secures the knife in her stomach-- should it be removed from its wound, it would only worsen her condition.

You said yourself the trip will take an hour… and you’re hurt so it might take longer.

Hey, I have five more wings, losing one isn’t a problem.

If I don’t make it, then just know it isn’t your fault.

I should’ve caught it before it hit you.

You’re doing the best you can.

He starts to hear her heartbeat slow.

No, no, no, no, don’t die on me, please!

There isn’t much we can do…

Please, just hang on for me-- I mean everyone else.

So you DO care.

Of course I care! That’s what a father is supposed to do!

They’re only halfway to the castle, and the air is growing thinner. Dracula notices he’s hyperventilating.

It’s okay, Dracula. You did your best.

Wait, wait. Don’t leave us! Please! I’m sorry!

I’ll tell Ryuji you tried to save me.

“No!” Dracula shouts.

But all his fighting to stay in the air and rushing is ultimately in vain. Her voice and heartbeat come to a stop when they’re only a kilometer away from the castle. He stops midair and stares in shock as her body runs cold. 

In silence, he lands in front of his castle, defeated.

Chapter Text

Death is the first to greet Dracula upon his return. The spirit looks down at Futaba with pity. Then he reaps her soul in a grand, sweeping gesture with his scythe.

Following that, Dracula hears footsteps and the doors being forced open. He weakly glances up and recognizes how bad of a look it is for him to be holding her corpse.

Before he can explain himself, Morgana jumps forward. “What did you do?!” He accuses. “You were supposed to take her to get the last part of her computer and bring her back safely.”

“I can explain--” Dracula tries to defend himself, only to be interrupted.

“There is no lie you can come up with that’ll make what you did okay. I should’ve suspected something was up when you two left the castle alone.”

Dracula feels a tightness in his chest. With a deep breath, he protests, “I don’t have a reason to lie to any of you! I promise!”

He is soon met with a metal ball to the forehead. “See, Joker??” Morgana shouts to Ren, “I told you he wasn’t trustworthy.”

Dracula kneels on the ground, silent. As if realizing there’s nothing he can say that will make this better. He glances up at the others with almost a pleading expression. 

“Hold on,” Ren finally responds. “Let me hear his side of the story. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

Little Mac raises his hand. “He’s right. We don’t know what happened, we can’t just accuse him without the right information.”

“Now,” Ren looks at Dracula, “Please tell us what happened.”

Dracula rasps, “Alright… I’ll tell you. The walk to the store and inside was uneventful. We were genuinely minding our own business. I wandered off to patrol and…” he pauses, “I had let my instinct win… on patrol I found a body slumped against a wall… suicide. But, when I returned to her, a Belmont entered the building at the worst possible time. I thought we escaped him when we left. I was wrong.”

“Okay, then what happened?”

“He accused me of kidnapping her and we got into a fight.”

“Which is why you’re injured. Futaba wouldn’t have fought back if you did anything to her,” Ann cautions, folding her arms.

“Precisely,” Dracula continues, “However, she went into the line of fire to make sure I was okay… then, the Belmont threw a dagger. It went through my cape and into her stomach before I could react.” He gently sets Futaba’s body on the ground so the others can get a better look.

“Bullshit!” Morgana lunges forward into Dracula. His momentum sends the vampire stumbling back to the ground. Knife to his throat. 

“Wait!” Ganondorf finally shouts.

“Of course YOU of all people would defend him!”

“I said WAIT!” Ganondorf’s voice echoes and the crowd hushes. “There is one piece of evidence you are blatantly ignoring!”

“And what would that be?!”

Ganondorf carefully takes the knife out of Futaba’s body. “The weapon.”

Ren gets closer and looks at the weapon. His eyebrows raise and he gasps, “I recognize this dagger.”

“You should,” Ganondorf explains. “That dagger is also seen on Richter and Simon.” Then he snaps, “Now, cat.”

Morgana gulps and recoils, lowering his weapon. “Yes..?”

“If your accusation that Dracula did this was true, then how did he get ahold of this specific knife? It is a very specific design wielded by a very specific group of people.”

“Well--”

“AND. It is a holy weapon. Dracula only has one holy weapon. The demonic megiddo, which is a nuke of holy magic.”

Leaf then stands bolt upright and gasps.

When the others look at her, she races forward frantically.

“I had a thought!” She exclaims. “I had a thought!”

“What?” Ren asks.

“If Dracula did kill Futaba, why would he bring her body here?”

Silence. 

Morgana, ashamed, puts his knife away and retreats. Not even bothering to apologize. Instead, he points his paw at his eyes, then at Dracula.

He doesn’t bother getting back up. 

Death picks up her body and moves it to the morgue to prepare for burial.

Slowly but surely, the others leave to either do their own thing or start on plans related to her burial. Until the only one left aside from Dracula is Ganondorf.

He holds out his hand. 

Though reluctant, Dracula accepts the helping hand and goes to the kitchen.

He wordlessly takes a bottle of blood and sits at the kitchen table. Ganondorf sits across from him. It isn’t until the entire bottle is emptied that Dracula finally looks him in the eye.

Dracula finally croaks, “Thank you… for defending me.”

“I told you before,” Ganondorf admits, “I owe you a lot for saving my life a few months ago.”

“Debt or not, I appreciate it.”

Dracula stares at the wooden surface and notices that his chest is pounding. His head is spinning and nothing feels real.

None of it feels real to him.

His stomach is in knots and deep down it feels like he’s drowning.

I want to be left alone… I think?

Do I?

No.

No.

No.

Don’t leave me.

His hands start to have a tingling sensation as if asleep or numb.

He can’t move.

He can’t scream or cry out for help.

That’s a sign of weakness. His throat feels like it’s closing on him. 

Is it an allergic reaction? No, that’s stupid.

His leg starts bouncing involuntarily and he starts to stare into space.

It feels like I’m spiraling. I want help. 

I need someone to help me.

I can’t ask for help, only the weak ask for help. 

I’m not supposed to get help, I’m supposed to be the help. 

I need to solve my own problems or else I’m nothing.

I’m nothing.

I’m nothing.

What, I couldn’t save even one fifteen year old girl? It was the easiest job in the world and I still fucked it up.

Ganondorf notices Dracula’s hand is shaking and his thousand-yard stare. Against his better judgement, he reaches out and holds his hand tight. He isn’t sure what’s going on in Dracula’s head, but he wants to help.

Dracula soon grasps his hand like it’s the only thing tethering him to this mortal coil.

The gerudo keeps his voice calm and clear, “Alright, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m right here. I’m here to help.”

“Thank you…” Dracula finally mutters.

“You feel guilty… don’t you?”

“Very.”

“You aren’t the type of villain to just kill women and children.”

“I’m not. Not unless I need to.”

“I disagree, but I do respect your limits.”

“All I wanted to do was protect them. Two of them so far died under my care.” Dracula looks at Ganondorf and continues, “What am I doing wrong?”

“I don’t know. But, it isn’t your fault. These things just happen. Intellectually, you know that. Right?”

“I do. That doesn’t make it hurt less. I fought for… centuries after… the incidents. I promised myself I’d never hurt like this again.”

Ganondorf stands up and guides Dracula to his feet. Gradually, they move to his library and sit next to each other. He remembers what happened a few weeks ago and wonders if it’ll calm him again.

As a test, he pulls Dracula close by the shoulder again. Instead of fighting back, Dracula simply leans into the touch and does not bother to escape. Upon looking at his face, he realizes, That… actually seems to be helping him.

It takes a while, but Dracula does eventually calm down. Still visibly upset, sure, but calm.

For once, he lets himself smile without a fight and his thoughts wander to the days the two have spent on their scientific research. In hindsight, I don’t actually know how far along the process I’d be without him. In fact, he’s started to look forward to spending that time near him.

But that’s probably nothing, right?

Chapter Text

Futaba’s funeral goes by in a blur. Everyone is upset, but it’s like they’re all going through the motions. He watches everyone gathered in the courtyard like last time, and he turns to retreat to his quarters all over again.

This time, Ganondorf notices him leave and follows. 

Weaving through the halls and past windows. Art pieces. Candelabras. However, he doesn’t move fast enough to catch Dracula before he enters his bedroom and locks the door behind him.

When he finally gets to the door, he sits against it and knocks.

“Please go away,” Dracula groans. His voice is muffled by the heavy wooden door.

“It’s just me. Can I at least sit against your door so you aren’t completely alone?” Ganondorf asks, turning to the door.

“Fine. But I’m not talking about why.”

“I don’t expect you to talk. You were a wreck the day she died. You have a right to be upset.”

“Finally, someone gets it. That stupid cat still seems to hate me even a week later after I proved that I didn’t kill her.”

“Yeah. He can be a stubborn prick at times.”

“Thank you!”

“I know that because he’s also upset at me for defending you.”

“I have to wonder, though. Why do Ren and the others keep him around? He doesn’t seem particularly helpful.”

“I don’t know. I’m sure there’s a good reason,” he pauses. “Live bait would be a good reason.”

“True.”

Ren finally shows up and sits next to Ganondorf. The three sit together in silence.

The creaking of the castle is strangely comforting, now. Everyone else has been here for so long that what used to make the castle a horrible place to be is now familiar and cozy. 

It could be the cabin fever.

Maybe the castle’s very existence is turning everyone complacent.

Perhaps this just happens when you live in a castle for long enough.

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

Outside is relatively warmer than usual. Well, as warm as Transylvania can get. Out of curiosity, Ren wanders outside with Leaf and Charizard. Just to see what Dracula is up to. Of course, Morgana is being dragged kicking and screaming.

Finally, they find Dracula among a previously unseen rabbit pen. Leaf goes up to the pen and reaches in to pet a rabbit with the full expectation that it’ll run away from her. To her surprise, it lets her give it attention. Dracula glances down at Leaf and smiles. Charizard stares into the pen, simply watching. Not even hungry, just entertained, it seems.

Ren is the first to ask, “What are you doing with all these rabbits?”

Dracula’s body stiffens a bit, and he realizes there’s no real way to talk around why they’re here. Hesitantly, he answers, “I’m… raising them for their meat and fur. I can’t really put it any other way.”

“You take good care of them, then. Especially if they’re meat rabbits.”

“Naturally. I was going to pick one to kill and prepare for later consumption.”

Leaf looks up in horror for a moment, only to shrug and return to petting that specific rabbit. Ren and Dracula exchange glances, both visibly concerned. 

So… in her game, do they… eat the same Pokémon they train?? Do I want to know? What separates the edible ones from the inedible ones? Dracula starts to wonder.

“So, Leaf. Random question,” Dracula starts.

“Alright?” Leaf looks up and answers.

“So your reaction implied that eating Pokémon is a normal thing for you?”

“Yep.”

“So is it the same Pokémon you happen to train?”

“No.”

“People raise Pokémon specifically to be eaten?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so what makes some okay to eat and others not?”

“Culture, mostly. Standards are different depending on where you are in the world.” Leaf pauses to think. “And whether or not the Pokémon is in the humanoid egg group.”

“You know what? What you just said only raises more questions than answers, but I don’t think those are answers I’m ready to hear.”

“Ok.”

Ren and Dracula look back at each other and shrug. Meanwhile, Charizard looks at them like they’re stupid, as if everything Leaf had clarified is common knowledge. 

What do you MEAN EVERY ONE OF THEM LAYS EGGS? Is there the concept of a mammal in that game? Does that rule apply to humans? Dracula shakes his head and reminds himself, Don’t ask questions you’re not prepared to hear the answers to.  

Dracula leans over to Ren and asks, “Want to learn how to kill a rabbit ethically?”

Ren shrugs and nods. “Sure, why not?”

“Right then,” Dracula punctuates by picking a rabbit. “So. First, you have your rabbit. Off the top of your head, what do you think we’re going to use to cull this creature?”

“A gun? I can imagine a gunshot riiight here.” Ren gently prods the animal between the eyes and pets it afterwards.

“Hm. And what kind of gun would you use, then?”

“My Tkachev? What else would I use?”

“That’s what you call it. Naive child…” Dracula takes the handgun and studies it for a moment. “That, young man, is a Chinese replica of the Tokarev TT-33… Type 54, I believe.” He hands the weapon back.

“What about it? And why do you know so much about it?”

“To answer your second question, I have been around since before guns were even introduced to Europe. I have been around the block a couple hundred times.”

“Okay..?”

“And ‘what about it?’ …Have you gone mad? Think, boy!”

“I don’t know what you mean, man. My knowledge of firearms is limited because I only buy models from a shady-looking dealer in Shinjuku that somehow become real when I enter people’s brains!”

“Okay, okay, stop yelling, I get your point. I’ll teach you.”

“Okay.”

“See, when you’re shooting, what matters is what you’re planning on doing with your weapon. Your Tokarev, for example. This weapon was made to be used in warfare. Looks to be from the Cold War era. Spanish Civil War at the earliest. If you used this on a rabbit’s skull, the poor thing would explode.”

“Oh--”

“Yes, you see the problem now. We want the rabbit intact, not prepared for stew right out of the morgue. You need at least a 20-gauge for rabbit hunting. However, we are not using firepower. Too unreliable, too painful, the sound will scare the poor creature and make the meat taste worse.” He scoops up a second rabbit for later.

“So what will we use to kill them?”

Dracula first ties up a rabbit in a harness and ties it to a pole. Then he takes a broomstick and holds it out for Ren to see. “This.”

“What, are we going to beat it to death?”

“I said ethically, Ren.” He takes Ren and the two rabbits over to where he keeps the man-eating plants and continues after tying the first one up close to the second, “We’re doing this here because the plants really love some of the organs we don’t eat.”

“Why did you say that like it was a completely normal sentence?”

“Well, it’s a normal sentence to me…” he trails off when he notices the head of one of the plants starting to creep over to Ren. He quickly bops it with the broomstick so it recoils. “Back! Bad sin against botany! Very bad. He isn’t food! You’ll get some human flesh eventually, but today is not the day!”

“What.”

“Sorry, he gets very bitey around new people.”

“You concern and scare me.”

“I get that a lot. Anyway.”

“So aside from the sins against both God and Man eating the discarded parts, why are we here?”

“Simple. See these loops here?”

“Yes?”

“They’re here to hold the rabbit bodies up while we skin them. Luckily, that’s easy. Like a particularly tight-fitting sock.”

“That’s a horrible mental image, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Next is this bucket of water.”

“Dear God…”

“There’s more.”

“No.”

Dracula rolls his eyes and continues, “We use this to clean the skinned bodies.”

“What, do we baptise them?”

“No, just some splashes of water with our hands.”

“Makes sense.”

“Also needed, a sharp knife and bags to hold the carcasses, skins, and organs respectively. That’s important.”

“Ok.”

Dracula stops to pick up a rabbit, taking care to secure its legs. “Be careful with these creatures, their back legs are deceptively strong and their claws are sharp.”

“Noted.”

“Now, see how I’m holding him?” The rabbit is being held by the scruff in one hand, with the legs in the other held close to his body. “Make sure your clothes are thick, because when they kick, they kick hard. Take notes while I demonstrate what I will be doing. Then you’re going to try it yourself.”

“I’m not sure.”

“So you’re okay with slashing at the incarnations of people’s thoughts and emotions but not with culling a rabbit?”

“I’ll do it, I’m just nervous because I’ve never done it.”

“Observe.”

Dracula then sets his rabbit on the ground, still holding its scruff. Then he starts petting it until it’s calm. Primarily by petting its ears directly onto its back. Once the creature is perfectly calm, he takes the broomstick and places it behind the head. He holds it down with one hand. Before doing anything else, he grabs the back legs with the other hand. With a deep breath, he stands on both sides of the stick and pulls straight up to snap its neck.

The animal dies instantly.

Dracula then lectures, “Now, you’ll know you did it correctly because you’ll feel a pop as you pull. When you remove the stick, you’ll feel the head is separated from the rest of the body despite the body still being in one piece.”

Then the rabbit starts to spasm as if still alive. Ren quickly jumps back and yelps, “Ack, is that thing still alive?! Are you sure it’s dead?”

“Oh, that. It does that. They’re death throes, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m worrying about it, that’s terrifying.”

“And fighting the apocalypse as a teenager isn’t?”

“Touche.”

“Now, you try.” Dracula sets the rabbit cadaver aside and out of the plants’ reach.

Now with a lump in his throat, Ren bends down and holds his rabbit by the scruff after untying it. Then he grips the back legs and goes towards Dracula, who steps aside and clasps his hands behind his back.

First, he sets the rabbit down, but makes sure he’s still holding it. He pets the rabbit so the ears are flat against its back.

Then he takes the broomstick and sets it behind the head. Before anything else, he holds down the stick with his left hand and holds the hind legs with his right.

Finally, he stands on the stick and starts to pull the rabbit up. Just before the pop is felt, he quietly apologizes, “I’m so sorry.” 

Before he knows it, the rabbit is dead in his arms, doing the same throes as Dracula’s was.

A satisfied smile forms on Dracula’s face. 

“Congratulations. You culled your first rabbit. I’ll take it from here, so you can return to the others if you’d like,” he approves, his smile growing more sinister as he gives Morgana a quick glance. 

Still visibly shaken, Ren picks up his cat and wordlessly returns to Leaf’s side. Even then, he lies on his bed. Not moving a muscle.

“I told you he’s a killer,” Morgana mumbles.

“He did that so you can have more food, you little shit,” Ren retorts, still not moving his gaze from the ceiling.

“You take that back! I have every right to be suspicious of him after Futaba just happened to die in his arms.”

Ren sits up. “No. No, I won’t take it back. I thought you’d know by now your actions have consequences.”

“You sound like Ryuji.”

“So? You admitted you could’ve saved him, but you were so caught up in your little fluffy ego that you ignored the signs he needed help. That’s selfish even by cat standards.”

“Well…”

“Your judgment wasn’t just wrong.”

“That’s just your opinion.”

“It wasn’t just poorly timed.”

“Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have made the accusation right as he returned, but still.”

“It wasn’t just rude.”

“It’s called honesty, Ren.”

“It was genuinely hurtful to everyone, not just the possible sociopath that’s sheltering us.”

Morgana freezes in place. “W-what?”

Ren starts to pace, and he continues, “Let’s say hypothetically, everyone else in this castle believed you. Now, if we all teamed up, we could kill Dracula effortlessly.”

“So?”

"So when Dracula dies, the castle collapses. Leaving all of us, including yourself and Lady Ann, without food, water, or shelter. Not only that, we are at least three hundred and four meters off the ground. That is one thousand freedom units.”

“Wait, what?”

“And as a consequence of your accusation in your best-case scenario, everyone else would be hurtling to the ground at their respective terminal velocity and hit the ground with enough force to kill. And as if this scenario isn’t already bad enough, the debris from the castle would fall right on top of us. Crushing any and all survivors to death.”

“Oh…”

“ ‘Oh’ is right, Morgana. You put all of us in potentially mortal danger because you couldn’t stand being wrong!” 

Morgana falls silent, and Ren lies back down.

“You’re allowed to be upset about the loss of a friend. You’re not allowed to needlessly persecute the man who has been letting us live here for free with no chores because he happened to show up carrying her body one day,” Ren scolds before rolling onto his side in a vain attempt at going to sleep.

Chapter Text

“Please?? Take me with you!” Ren pleads, tugging on Dracula’s cape.

“I already told you, no. If we got attacked by an infected, it’s basically suicide,” Dracula scolds.

“Just give Mona and I a chance!”

“Really?! After everything that little shit put me through, you expect me to just let both you and the cat come with me on a hunting trip like nothing happened?!”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

Ren raises his eyebrows a bit, then scoops up Morgana while following Dracula to the door.

Now visibly terrified, Morgana starts to wriggle and flail around. Actively fighting to get out of Ren’s arms and ultimately failing to do so. In a meager attempt at escape, he starts to bunny kick his arms and yowl like he’s never been fed. When that fails, he starts batting at Ren’s face.

Annoyed, Ren grabs his scruff and shushes the cat.

Morgana’s ears flatten, though he reluctantly shuts up to avoid being hunted for sport. He glances at Dracula, checking for any firearms. To his shock, he doesn’t see any gun. Instead, he spots a bow and a quiver. He tilts his head one way, then the other. 

“Hey,” he finally pipes up.

Dracula whips his head around and sibilates, “Sh.” Then he speaks in a hushed tone, “What do you want?”

“Why are you using a bow and arrow?”

“You know, I’d question your intelligence, but I’ve learned by now that you’re fairly incompetent.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if you were actually listening, you’d know that we are on the surface, which is riddled with infected. If we used a gun to hunt, we would potentially draw a threat closer to us.”

“You don’t have to talk to me like I’m stupid. As if I’d take pointers from a murderer who likes to kill in the shadows.”

Without warning, Dracula swipes Morgana from Ren’s arms and flies high up into the air, where he knows nobody else will hear them.

“What are you doing?! You… you maniac?!” Morgana screams, clinging for dear life.

“Shut up, I’m not going to drop you. Unless you don’t shut up and listen for once in your lowly existence.” Morgana immediately shuts up and stares into Dracula’s uncaring eyes. “Do you have any understanding as to why only Ren tolerates you being around?”

“W-what…? What do you mean by that?”

“He depends on you talking in his ear, as if he has no thoughts or feelings of his own. You are not a person, you aren’t even a cat. You are a fluffy exposition machine that repeatedly outstays its welcome. Ren is his own person, yet he is entirely dependent on you.”

“What, so is this about my accusations?”

Dracula laughs a little, then his face goes completely neutral. “I’m not even upset that you’re accusing me of being a murderer. I have killed before, and I will kill again. But then again, Ren has told me some of those stories from before The Phantoms fell apart. It seems to me that you would kill shadows just for the Hell of it. Because they can do something for you, and rarely because you actually need to kill them. That doesn’t just make your accusations wrong, it makes you a hypocrite that only does things for attention.”

“You can’t prove that!”

“Really? Then, how many times have you tried to put the spotlight on yourself when something happens? I still remember being told about your week-long temper tantrum because you were wrong and couldn’t take being insulted by someone who was your whipping boy for months.”

“Well-”

“How’s your conscience, by the way? It must be hard knowing your actions unintentionally killed Ryuji. Did the pity feel good? Did you feel special when people doted on you when they were grieving just as much as you were?”

“You saw me! You even comforted me when I needed it.”

“I did it back then because everyone was grieving, and I saw you needed help. In hindsight, I don’t even think you felt bad for Ryuji’s death because you cared.”

“I did! You saw for yourself how upsetting it was for me!”

“So YOU’RE the victim here.”

“I’m the one who felt the most pain because of the actions of Morgana the phantom thief.”

“You are. The most?”

“Yes!”

“Really? More than, say… Ryuji Sakamoto?”

“Don’t get me started on him.”

“No, I want to know how you’re the victim when Ryuji took his own life. Explain to me how the bullet in his head was really rough for you.”

“Shut up.”

“You feel incredibly guilty about that? You feel a ton of guilt because you saw everything Ryuji was going through and did nothing to save him? You asked how you could’ve helped and you didn’t even ask someone how to help. None of us knew how much Ryuji was really falling apart because you chose to stay silent.”

“That’s-- not?”

“And then he died. And he has been dead, and you’re still alive. With friends who are also alive, and a team capable of killing gods. And that’s really hard for you, the main character of this fucked up story we call life. Nobody else’s grief matters. Not Ren, who lost his best friend that day. Not Ann or Futaba or Sumire or Haru, who lost a reliable friend and teammate. Not Little Mac, who lost a friend and potential sparring partner. Not Leaf, who has already lost so many in her life and is clinging to whoever she can to feel safe. You, who only lost the only person willing to put up with your self-loathing, borderline incompetent projecting, because whenever you look in the mirror, you see what a sad and miserable excuse for a living thing you are. And you can’t handle that reality, so you projected it onto Ryuji. Now that he’s dead, you decided to project your insecurities onto me when I did nothing to warrant it, because Heaven forbid you look at yourself in the mirror and choose to be better.”

“I said, shut up.”

“You make the people around you revolve around your existence, even at the expense of those around you. You sink your teeth in the same people forced to cover for you. The same people you force to carry shit out of palaces because you can’t be bothered to help. The same people you begged to help you. I know what kind of manipulative, narcissistic, and ultimately worthless person you really are deep down. Because I am also manipulative, borderline narcissistic, and ultimately worthless.”

“Well, I’m here because I’m helpful, right?”

“You being here actively makes everyone’s lives worse, and I only let you stay here because you mean so much to Ren. But, if you meant any less, I would turn you into a hat with no remorse. Either way, you are a walking second-place trophy who refuses to admit that he doesn’t bring much to the table outside of being a walking tutorial who constantly demands the spotlight. Either cooperate in the face of an apocalypse or find help elsewhere. Understand? I have an ego, too, and I’m not letting that stand in the way of being actually cooperative in an apocalyptic scenario. Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?”

“I do…”

Dracula carefully flies back down and gingerly sets the cat back on Ren’s shoulder. Without another word, Dracula turns and walks along the trail. Ren quietly follows his lead, trusting the vampire’s judgement. Morgana looks around, then decides to suck it up and try to be helpful where he can.

Before the cat even has the opportunity to ask how he can help, Dracula stops again. His ears start to move. Then he raises his arm to tell Ren and Morgana to stop. After sniffing around, he snaps in a seemingly random direction. He slowly but surely takes a relatively small scroll out of his satchel and holds it towards Morgana.

Quiet enough for only the three to hear, he orders, “Take this. Gather.”

Morgana simply nods, swipes the scroll, and scampers away. 

Without another moment of hesitation, Dracula makes his way in the direction he was looking. His steps are careful and deliberate until he intentionally reaches a tree and walks up it. Ren watches as Dracula easily travels across the branches, bending the woods to his will. Then he follows the vampire up the tree with his grappling hook and darts across the trees. 

Once he catches up with Dracula, Ren notices he’s come to a stop at a near 90-degree angle. Staring intently at a small herd of red deer bucks. Pupils dilated, bow in hand.

Finally, Dracula loses arrows faster than Ren can process what’s happening. He doesn’t hear breathing. No scream from the deer shot down or the surrounding animals.

Simply the whoosh of a loose arrow combined with the twang of the bow’s string.

The satisfying thwack of that arrow hitting its mark.

The target hitting the ground with a gentle thump. Its body among the underbrush it was previously eating.

The surrounding deer don’t even have a chance to scream out in the presence of danger before their bodies hit the ground. After a couple of seconds of quiet contemplation, Dracula walks back down the tree to the bodies. Using his grappling hook, Ren follows to safely reach the ground. 

Thinking it’s completely safe, Ren walks out towards the group of dead deer.

However, he can’t shake the feeling he’s being watched.

Thinking quickly, Dracula pulls Ren back and makes eye contact with whatever is in the bushes.

As quietly as possible, he speaks, “Shoot there. Now.”

“Why?” Ren asks, now genuinely worried about what Dracula is doing.

“Just do it.”

“Fine,” Ren groans, firing where he’s told. 

With a loud bang, a bear hits the ground, dead. Half of its head is completely gone.

While some of the wildlife is scattering from the sound of the gunfire, Dracula takes a moment to shoot some birds out of the sky and rodents when he spots them. This persists until he runs out of arrows in his quiver. With an annoyed sigh, he takes another item out of his satchel; the start of a bundle. 

Slowly, Dracula starts to gather the dead animals onto the large piece of deer skin stitched together. After a moment of watching, Ren starts to help. Taking care to follow Dracula’s lead.

“You don’t have to do that,” Dracula explains in a hushed tone.

“I want to help,” Ren admits, as he’s slowly getting more comfortable carrying dead animals.

“I can handle this. I’m going slower to better listen for danger. You go look for Morgana and return to me.”

“I can do that.”

“Good. I’m trusting you to be able to protect yourself if something bad happens.”

Ren then rushes off and grapples into the trees to get a better look.

In a matter of hours, Dracula finishes gathering the dead and hauls the bundle over his shoulder like it’s a sack of flour. He then notices that Ren hasn’t returned with Morgana yet. 

Concerned, he starts to go in the direction he saw Ren go; occasionally clicking and chirping to echolocate his way through since it’s starting to get dark.

It isn’t too long before he hears talking and creeps closer to investigate. Thankfully, it’s only Ren and Morgana. For a moment, Dracula lowers his defenses, relieved that the risk he took paid off.

Once the two notice he’s there, Dracula sets the bundle aside and holds the two tightly. 

“Hey--!” Ren exclaims, his eyebrows raised. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Thank Christ crucified on popsicle sticks, you’re okay. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” Dracula starts to apologize repeatedly.

“Why are you apologizing? Nobody’s hurt?”

“I let you wander the woods alone, and it was a stupid idea. I’m just happy my trust in you actually paid off.”

“So you do care.”

“Anyway!” Dracula stands bolt upright and lets go as if trying to hide that brief outburst of emotion. “We should return to the castle. It’s getting too dark to keep hunting safely.”

Without another word, he picks his bundle back up over his shoulder, and the three venture back to the castle in silence.

Once they return, Dracula wordlessly places the gathered food in the kitchen and watches as Morgana and Ren leave to go do whatever it is they’re going to do with their spare time. Though Dracula wouldn’t blame them for showering and going straight to bed after such a successful outing. 

Ganondorf then steps into the kitchen, quickly noticing the haul. The two nod at each other and start to work together to process the hunt and sort the foraged goods. The gerudo proves to be scary efficient with butchering and skinning animals; his skills are on par with, if not greater than, Dracula’s.

However, Dracula is moving uncharacteristically slow compared to his typical pace.

The voe looks over after hacking off a primal cut from a deer and asks, “Are you okay?”

Dracula sighs, “Do you want the honest answer?”

“Naturally. We need to keep an eye on each other. Surviving depends on it.”

“Then, no. No, I’m not. The two relatively recent deaths are probably getting to me.”

“I get it. Leadership in a life-or-death situation is difficult. It isn’t your fault when these things happen.”

“I just feel… like I could’ve done more to save them. I should’ve paid better attention.”

“You just feel guilty, huh?”

“I do. I care about these kids, you know?”

“Yes. You’ve never brought it up before, though. What changed?”

“Well, you’re probably the only person I know for sure understands how it feels.”

“I suppose you aren’t wrong. How about you take a break? I’ll handle this. Too much stress will eventually kill you. Or so I’ve heard.”

“Alright. Only because you told me to. The lesser demons and vampires will know what to do with what you set aside.”

“Thanks.”

With a curt nod, Dracula trudges away like the energy has been completely drained from his body. Before he knows it, he finds himself in Ryuji’s old room. He’s spent days keeping it clean because it feels wrong to completely empty it after what happened. 

He takes a moment to straighten things out and then sits on the foot of the bed in anticipation.

The shutters of the room start to open and close on their own. Then the closet doors. Items start floating on their own, then are carefully set down.

He knows what’s there.

Someone who only recently became a ghost would mess with objects like that. Just to see what they can do. All ghosts have this experimental phase, and it’s like watching a little kid learn what their bodies can do. Regardless of how old the person was when they died. 

First, they learn what their bodies can do, then they start learning how to communicate with the mortal plane. 

In a weird way, it’s almost adorable.

It isn’t often Dracula gets the privilege of seeing a ghost go through this process in a safe manner. Usually, the ghosts in his castle are angry and need to be tamed throughout the process. This new one seems more peaceful and curious. Not vengeful at all. 

Suddenly, a chill runs down his spine, as if the young spirit was trying to touch. It just takes a while for ghosts to understand how to interact with the living without just phasing through.

Learning your limits is very important in the beginning of any undead’s existence. Dracula reminds himself, shaking off the feeling of ectoplasm on his shoulder.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. Dracula snaps out of his staring into space and looks at the open entrance. Ganondorf looks visibly concerned. He silently tilts his head in the direction of the library, and Dracula is immediately scared.

The two make their way there promptly, and Dracula stumbles back when he sees what’s going on.

Ganondorf cranes his neck to see what the kids are even looking at. Photos. In that era?

Ren looks over at Dracula and smiles like nothing happened. “Hey, you’re here. Do you have an explanation for these? Because photos weren’t invented until the 1800s.”

“Well--” Dracula starts, “It’s true that my connection to Chaos gave me access to photography, but actually, I painted these in my spare time.”

“You did? That’s incredible. You convinced us they were photos.” Sumire replies. “But who were these people?”

Dracula gets a better look at the pictures, and his eyes widen in shock. He is slack-jawed and tense. Without another word, he swipes the paintings away, fighting to stifle any emotion he’s feeling. “Don’t worry about it!” he blurts.

“We already saw them, there’s no point hiding anything,” Ren coaxes.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on. We already sniffed this out, you owe us answers.”

“FINE! Shut up!” There is a hush among the crowd. “These are paintings of the family I had…” he trails off to do the math in his head. “Almost five hundred and fifty years ago.”

Ren’s expression softens. “You have a family.”

“Had. Tense is important. They’re… long gone now.”

Ann probes further, “What happened to them?”

With a deep sigh, Dracula answers, “Her?” He points to a woman. “She was my wife. Lisa. She…” The words get caught in his throat, and his knees start to tremble. Before he can kneel on the ground, he sits in a chair. “She was murdered in cold blood by the church.”

“My God…” Little Mac can be heard muttering.

“Then he…” he points to a kid he can be seen holding. “Is my son. He’s still around, I think? But we don’t talk anymore.”

“So what happened?” Ren continues to coax answers out.

“What happened is that after his mother’s death, we had a falling out. He turned against me and now helps the Belmonts. I’m sure you’ve seen him, Ren. Alucard, the assist trophy?”

“Yeah, I remember seeing him once or twice.”

“The last time I actually saw him was…1797? No, no. August 1999. I haven’t even heard from him since. Not that he doesn’t have a good reason not to speak to me. We’ve only ever fought the last few times we saw each other.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I believe I deserved it after fighting against my son like that.”

“So, what was the significance of August of 1999 if you remembered the month you saw him again?”

“...I remember the day, too. August 11th, 1999. The day I canonically died and never came back. Honestly, I only know that because of Death. With that in mind, I’m not actually sure how I’m here in Smash if I canonically died in 1999. It’s probably best if I don’t question it. Smash probably exists outside of my game’s canon so it isn’t like it matters.”

“Forget I asked, I should’ve figured something like that.”

Dracula then puts two and two together and sits up. He stares directly at Ren. “You. You wanted to join that hunting trip so I’d be distracted long enough to find these, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.”

Dracula can’t help but laugh pathetically. “Well played. Well played.” His face goes completely blank like he wasn’t just laughing. “Just know I won’t be falling for the same trick twice.”

Ren nods, surprised his plan actually worked.

Chapter Text

Flames sweep across the cold stone floor, barely scorching its surface. Then Charizard rushes forward and swipes his claws at the training dummy; ultimately reducing it to nothing with a Flamethrower. Leaf timidly goes over and gives her partner the praise he deserves. The only reason they’re really training is because she is well aware she hasn’t been too helpful around the castle.

Well, not that Dracula has been letting her help to begin with. 

But that isn’t fair? I can help, too.

She looks up at the clear blue sky, knowing that Dracula is either busy or asleep. Then she looks over at Charizard and asks, “You ready?”

Charizard nods, and after Leaf climbs onto his back, he takes flight. Promptly swooping beneath the castle, yet still above the clouds. 

It takes roughly an hour or so to finally find the portal to her home game, and they fly through. However, they are not exactly fully aware of the risks. 

She takes her map and spreads it between his wings. Saffron City is too risky since it’s a stage. Celadon should be safer, then, and probably has more supplies.

After a while of flying, they finally land on the rooftop of the Celadon Department Store and enter that way. 

The power isn’t on anymore. What used to be filled with life is now completely dead. Shelves toppled over with product scattered on the ground. The essentials that should be in your standard drugstore simply aren’t here anymore. Bag in hand, she looks around and picks up whatever she can that would be helpful… not that it’s even easy to see what she’s grabbing since she doesn’t have a flashlight or anything. To help her search, she carefully holds things close enough to Charizard’s tail where she can read the labels.

Finally, she finds some form of flashlight and tears it from its packaging. Sure, it feels like stealing, but she needs to see where she’s going. Charizard looks around, as if looking for danger. Then he cocks his head and his eyes widen. 

She looks over and mutters, “What? Did you hear something?”

Charizard nods and starts to move through the rest of the floor, careful about where he’s stepping. As Leaf follows him, he takes care to stop and look back to make sure she’s following his lead.

Along the way, the two search the drugstore for anything else that could prove useful.

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It’s been hours now. Usually, Dracula would know exactly where everyone in the castle is at any given time. However, this time, Leaf and Charizard are nowhere to be found.

No note.

Nobody was told anything.

What if they just fell off the castle?

They’re probably in danger. Probably? That's selling it short. Definitely. Yes, definitely.

Calculating his next move, Dracula paces in the garden. He notes the destroyed training dummy and burned stone. They were here. But where are they?

Suddenly, he feels a tug on his cape, and he turns around as if intending to smack whoever it was. Only to be met with some poor lesser vampire from his forces. He lowers his hand and carefully pulls his cape back. With a deep sigh, he warns, “Please do not do that again. I was about to hit you for that.”

“Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again, sir,” she promptly apologizes, curtseying repeatedly.

“You can stop now. Now, did you need me for something?”

“I was told about how you were looking for Leaf and Charizard, and I figured I’d speak up.”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“I was in the garden with Haru. When she went inside to grab something, I saw the two fly off. I don’t know where, because I couldn’t get close enough to eavesdrop.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me until hours later?”

“I figured everything was fine and that they wouldn’t be gone long.”

“I appreciate you having faith in them. Do not do that again. Do we have any ideas at all as to where they could’ve gone?”

“No, sir.”

“I see. You are dismissed.”

Dracula gives a curt nod and quickly gets to Leaf’s room. Once inside, he starts to snoop through things like old journals, maps, and other miscellaneous items. That is, until her diary is accidentally nudged off her bedside table.

He looks at it and realizes he has a choice to make. Obviously, he is going to prioritize his guests’ privacy,  but this is a matter of safety.

Despite his better judgment, he picks it up and starts to read through the more recent entries.

It goes on and on about Leaf not feeling useful, complaining Dracula won’t let her do some of the things the older kids can do, and finally her plan to sneak off to Celadon City to prove herself.

Without another moment of hesitation, Dracula rushes out of the castle and flies off as a swarm of bats in the direction she’d most likely go.

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Wiseman Gifts didn’t have much in terms of value… unless Leaf could, in some capacity, use Evolution Stones and mail to survive. Actually, in hindsight, having some form of stationery would help, especially if they needed to safely contact someone without the internet.

She quickly starts to pick up any mail she can-- and to think she didn’t see any value in it at first. It could be used as is or even recycled into new paper. Or compost. Mulch? Maybe candle wicks? Perhaps containers for seedlings? She didn’t realize the alternative potential all this paper truly had. Now happy with her current haul, she continues downstairs.

Charizard becomes increasingly wary, however, and follows his trainer. Trusting that she’s doing the right thing. 

Floor 3. The game shop. It’s so empty, though. She notes the surprising lack of batteries, screens, or speakers. Perhaps they were the first to be raided from the store because of their use. She notices that the game consoles have been left behind and starts to think. What would an old game console even have that would be of use?

She takes a non-functional display console and starts trying to pick it apart to see what’s inside. With enough effort, she manages to break the shell off and get a better look inside. All sorts of metals, wire, motherboards, and even batteries. She recognizes that since this specific one is tied to the power of the building, the thing would be essentially useless. It doesn't help that she broke the thing so badly that it'd be useless anyway.

Instead, she turns her attention to the unopened consoles and starts to haul them into her inventory with no regard for the holding space of what could well be an infinite void or hammerspace. 

A loud thud echoes from the room's shadows, causing Leaf to practically jump out of her skin.

After a deep breath, she finally gathers the last console she thinks she needs and travels onward since there isn’t much left of this floor anyway.

Finally, she finds the last floor that actually contains things to raid. The trainer’s market. 

A shame it too is nearly picked clean.

Instead, she goes through the extra stock that nobody else valued. That being… more mail.

More of it.

Whatever.

With nothing better to do, Leaf and Charizard go down to the service counter and start towards the exit. Only to hear scampering and jolts of electricity. Very unstable jolts of electricity.

She quickens her pace and tries to open the doors. They aren’t opening. Are they locked? Is she just pushing a pull door? No, no, the doors have always been push doors, so they’re definitely locked.

Charizard moves Leaf back and tries to pull the door open instead.

Nothing.

He turns around and shakes his head. Then resorts to trying to break the glass. He tries using his flamethrower-- which is strong enough to melt boulders and ten metric tons of ice-- and fails. The testing they’ve done on the infrastructure of this place worked, but this time it isn’t to anyone’s benefit except for whatever is creeping around.

Leaf starts to look around for any other escape or way out aside from climbing all the way back up to the top of the building.

But if they do that? Who knows what’ll be waiting up there?

The lights surge, and there’s the stench of burning rubber.

An electric fire? Here?! But this place doesn’t have power!

They can’t risk going upstairs now, with the possible electrical fire and all. She scrambles around looking for a spare key, or a key card, or anything. But then she trips on something and scrapes her knees on the floor. Her trainer ID skids across the floor, and she gets an idea. With help from Charizard, she gets back on her feet and grabs the trainer card. 

They race back towards the doors and Leaf starts trying to pick the lock with her trainer ID. Charizard keeps watch, not noticing the flame on the tip of his tail becoming bluer by the second. Then, he jumps back to avoid a tentacle from even grazing his body. He uses a flamethrower in its general direction, and the tentacle recoils. 

More shadows jump out in front of the flames, revealing a couple of infected Pichu. Nowhere near as bad as the so-called Confuser incident-- if that even happened, but still terrifying.

If so, that would imply there’s more of them. With 8 alternate costumes, that would imply at least 3 out of those 8 are basically gone.

Charizard recognizes the danger and chooses to buy his friend more time. After cracking his knuckles, Charizard does what Charizards do best: turn their flames on opponents stronger than them.

He charges forward in a dash and attacks by kicking forward. This sends one of the infected flying into a wall, only for it to spring back and sting towards his wings. 

In retaliation, he waves his tail, spooking the less infected of the two away and narrowly dodging the tentacle.

While Pichu is still in the air, Charizard uses his up smash-- he slashes his wings upward in a fanning motion. It crashes through the ceilings above and splats back on the ground. 

Charizard looks over to check on Leaf, who seems to be almost through.

With a nod, he grabs the pichu and breathes fire on it. Then Charizard keeps doing that in an attempt to at least buy his trainer more time.

“Got it!” she proclaims, kicking the doors open.

The moment Charizard lowers his guard to return to her, a tentacle drives itself into his wing, and he rushes away to break the connection. The two escape into the streets and start running along them to look for help. 

Charizard’s lost his ability to fly, so they’re good as stranded. They duck into an alleyway, and she assesses the damage.

“Charizard,” she shivers with a hushed tone. “Are you okay??”

The poor animal is gritting his teeth, trying not to recoil from the pain. Seeing the infected shit in his wing, Charizard decides to at least slow the process and uses his claws to hack at the wing until it’s detached from his body. Then he uses Flamethrower to cauterize the wound.

Leaf presses her forehead against Charizard’s and starts to cry.

It feels like a very long time before she ends up falling asleep among the garbage and the few Pokémon left visible in the city.

She pokes her head out of the alleyway and notices that the department store has completely collapsed.

The two wander towards the Pokémon Center and are shocked to find it still somewhat functional. Without a moment of hesitation, they race to the counter to ask for help.

“Ah-- g-good evening? I’m… guessing you saw the department floor collapse?” Nurse Joy asks, reaching for her first aid kit.

“Hi. Yeah, we saw it when we were in town looking for supplies. We didn't think any survivors were here,” Leaf explains.

“I see. I see. That place was condemned after those infected pichu were found.”

“Oh.”

Silently, Nurse Joy properly cleans and tends to the stump where Charizard’s wing used to be.

After exchanging pleasantries, Leaf and Charizard sit against the wall to rest inside.

She falls back asleep in tears.

Charizard looks and listens around, still having to cope with the pain. He then hears something outside, but can’t stand to leave his trainer’s side.

Reluctantly, Charizard picks up Leaf and tucks her in on a couch. Then he goes out to see what’s going on.

He hears a voice calling out Leaf’s name. He knows that name.

“Leaf?! Are you here?!” Dracula cries out, frantically searching.

Charizard roars as loudly as he can.

This soon gets Dracula’s attention, and the two rendezvous. 

“What happened to you…?” Dracula asks, noting the missing wing. Charizard tries to explain as best he can despite being unable to speak. “So where’s Leaf? Is she safe? Is she alright?” Charizard responds by entering the building and exiting with a very groggy and sleepy Leaf in his arms. Dracula quickly holds Leaf close and whispers, “By the nine hells, it’s a miracle you two are still alive.”

He starts to think about how he plans to get these two home since Charizard has become incapable of flight.

After a bit, he gets Leaf to cling to his back and carries Charizard in his arms.

An even greater miracle is that they managed to return to the castle safely.

Charizard is taken to the medical wing and is promptly tended to. Putting the proper medication on the stump, stitching it up, and then finally numbing it with an injection of opium.

With him tended to, Dracula turns his attention to Leaf.

He makes an exerted effort not to yell at the poor child.

“What… the Hell. Were you thinking?” Dracula seethes, fighting the urge to yell.

“I just wanted to help,” she admits. “You weren’t letting me help much.”

“Leaf, you poor, poor child. You expected to be put to work by the adults around you?”

“That’s just normal to me. I felt useless, it’s why I went to fill this bag with as much as I could find.” She hands over her bag, revealing all of her finds.

“I’m not putting you to work just because it’d be convenient for me.”

“You aren’t?”

“By Chaos, what kind of lazy people live in your society where children are expected to save entire regions?!”

“What about the Phantom Thieves?”

“That’s something they, as young adults, chose to do. Nobody else in their society begged and pleaded with them to do the work they do. Are children in your world just expected to do the dirty work of random people?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Well, I’m not playing by that rule; you are traumatized enough as it is. If you want to help, ask if there’s something you can do. Then I can find an age-appropriate chore for you to do.”

“Okay.”

“You almost scared me back into the grave.”

“I’m sorry.”

Dracula suddenly holds Leaf as tightly as he can without hurting her.

Chapter Text

The very next day, Dracula goes to the place where Charizard is resting after the incident. He looks over the animal and assesses how much pain it’s in. 

Leaf pipes up, peeking out from behind Dracula, “Is he going to be okay?”

“I hope so,” he admits.

Charizard looks up at him with pleading eyes. As if on the brink of tears. Leaf sits at her partner’s side and runs her hand along his neck in an attempt to comfort him. Then she scratches under his chin. Ever so tenderly, she removes the bandages from the stump on Charizard’s back to see how bad it is today.

The moment the bandage is removed, Charizard winces and tries to stay still so the two can help.

“You must be in so much pain,” Leaf mutters. Then she looks up at Dracula.

“How can you tell?” Dracula asks. Not that he doesn’t believe her, not in the slightest. He just doesn’t know what Leaf knows.

“Part of it is the flame on the tip of his tail. If this goes out, he dies. It also burns weaker the more hurt or sick he is. I can also tell from the look in his eyes. A Pokémon can tell you a lot about how it's feeling just based on its body language.”

“I never knew. I’ll get him another dose of painkiller promptly. I’m trusting you to know how to clean that wound and bandage him up.”

“On it.” Leaf stands up and grabs a bottle of saline solution, some cotton pads, gauze, and bandages. She starts by cleaning the injury, then dressing the wound, and finally wrapping it in bandages.

Dracula raises his eyebrows slightly in a vain attempt at hiding his surprise. She knows more than she lets on. With an approving nod, he takes his container of opiates and draws some of it into a syringe. He flicks it a couple of times to get any air bubbles out of it and kneels near Charizard after putting the opium away where nobody else can access it. 

“Okay,” he starts. “You know more about him than I do. Please remind me where I should inject this.”

“Hm. I think the quickest way would be right… Here,” she points to the inside of Charizard’s elbows.

“Alright. Thank you.” Ever so carefully, he injects the painkiller into the dragon’s system. “It should take a few minutes or so to take effect. I’m not going to inject this too often unless he genuinely needs it, because it can be very addictive.”

“Then why have it?”

“It’s the easiest painkiller I know how to make. Morphine is also addictive, but it takes more time to produce. With opium, I need the seeds of a poppy and a calcium solution. In simpler terms, it’s really easy to synthesize.”

“What happens if you mess up?”

“If I mess up, I get drugs like heroin. It’s still useful, but a lot harder to keep track of. Can’t trust my fellow monsters around the stuff. If one of my undead was an addict, then the stuff is just gone.”

“I can make medicines, too.”

“You can. Really?”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“Show me.”

“Okay--”

Leaf tenses up a bit, now with the pressure of having to prove that she can make viable medicine. She digs through her bag for something and finally finds her berry pocket. She doesn’t have a lot but she was saving them for a rainy day. After thanking Arceus above for her good fortune, she takes a cheri, pecha, rawst, and aspear berry each. With a thankfully clean mortar and pestle, she crushes the berries into a fine paste until completely homogeneous. 

When the mixture is complete, she has created a full restore.

“So what does that do?” Dracula asks dubiously.

“Watch,” she replies. She manages to get Charizard to eat it, and as if by magic, the majority of the scuffs and bruises on the Pokémon disappear.

“Să fiu al dracului…” he mutters. After a moment to think, he speaks up, “Actually quite impressive for someone your age. Perhaps I’ll let you help me make medicines, but only if you really want to. I’m not going to make you do something just because it’d be easier for me.”

“You’re being serious?”

“If I was lying, I’d say something along the lines of you being a prodigy. When manipulating people, you have to choose your words carefully, and that means overselling someone to make them feel good.”

Leaf, now eager to learn, looks up with glistening eyes and the first genuine smile on her face since she got here. “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

“You seem quite eager to get started. Would you be okay leaving Charizard unattended while I teach you what I know?”

Leaf hesitates and looks at her partner. Said partner is sound asleep as if nothing was wrong. 

“I’m okay with that,” she replies.

With a curt nod, Dracula stands up and leads Leaf to his laboratory, specifically to the table where he prepares his medicines. He moves a book towards Leaf, who immediately opens it up and starts absorbing the information.

“Woah, woah,” Dracula blurts, “Slow down, can you actually understand any of that?!”

“Yep!” Leaf smiles, still looking over the pages.

Ganondorf walks over and looks between the two, then specifically at Dracula with raised eyebrows and a head tilt.

Dracula looks back at Ganondorf, tilting his head towards Leaf. 

Then they both look at the girl in abject shock and awe.

Perhaps they underestimated her. Maybe she really has potential, after all.  

Once Leaf has finished the book, she starts to poke around the various medicines in cold storage.

Even then, Dracula is still not sure that Leaf even understands the material she just read through. So, as a test, he takes her to where he synthesizes his painkillers.

Once there, he provides a barrel and the two ingredients she needs.

Then she looks up at him and asks, “What are we doing?”

“Well,” he explains, “this is a test. To see how well you actually understand the book you just read.”

“So what I’m doing is?”

“Preparing opium. Here, you have the base ingredients and the basic instructions. Those instructions are your only guide. There is no time limit; just do it right. Good luck.”

Now, with the pressure on her shoulders, Leaf starts to look over the basic guide she was given. So first, I have to take this ball of poppy resin and place it in the barrel.

Once done, she then looks over to the container of calcium solution and pours it in with the resin. Following that, she drags the barrel to a spout labelled ‘hot water’ and carefully fills the barrel the rest of the way.

She then returns the barrel to where she had it and starts to stir it with as much force as she reasonably can.

After a few hours have passed, she moves the clear liquid into a separate container and adds the provided binding agent. The contents are stirred, and she eventually filters out the residue. This is moved to a specific sheet and moved underneath a very powerful sun lamp to dry. 

She checks the list of instructions again and realizes she actually finished the job. If she went any further than that, she would’ve failed. Confident in her work, she looks over at Dracula for approval.

He walks over and looks at the steps she took. His attention eventually turns to the sun lamps and realizes she really was paying attention to what she was reading.

He asks, dumbfounded, “How? How did you manage to do that by yourself? Even I need some help to really do this since I work on a larger scale.”

“I dunno,” she shrugs.

“Well… whatever the case, you actually managed to pass the test. Fine. If I need your help with making or storing medicines, I know who to ask. I suppose.”

Leaf quietly nods, internally grappling with the fact she was just told to make a drug that had basically ruined a good portion of Eastern Asia and executed it almost perfectly.

At this point, not even she really knows how she managed to do it.

Perhaps she really is as perceptive as others have told her she is.

Chapter Text

Dracula sits on the roof of his castle, his arms crossed, while he admires the sun setting. No spot on Earth could ever rival how these events look when you’re so high up in the air. He hears the familiar heavy footsteps nearby and looks over. He lets a small smile creep onto his face.

Ganondorf can’t help but chuckle to himself while he sits next to Dracula. “I figured I’d find you here. You can be surprisingly predictable.”

“I know what I like,” Dracula retorts while leaning back onto his hands. 

The two sit in silence, with only each other’s company. They stay there even as the air grows colder and the sky above them becomes darker over time.

“Was there something you wanted to talk about?” Dracula asks. “It isn’t required, I’m just curious.”

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Ganondorf states bluntly.

“I’m listening.”

“Well, it’s been hard getting what you said out of my mind. About your family?”

“Oh. Them?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

Dracula sighs and sits up with his knees to his chest. “What did you want to know?”

“That took a lot less convincing than last time,” Ganondorf notes, his body visibly stiffening.

“Yeah, well. The difference is that I’m certainly more willing to divulge these details to you. It’s hard to admit it, but I trust you.”

“Shocking.”

“I don’t like being that vulnerable around the kids. Makes me uneasy, or like I’m putting them at some sort of risk. Anyway. Back to the topic at hand, what did you want to know?”

Ganondorf takes a bit to think about it. As if he didn’t expect to get as far as he has when it comes to getting these answers. “Well, I suppose my first question would be… how did you two meet?”

“That’s certainly a story. She entered my castle one day, apparently looking for information. She wanted to be a doctor, so I taught her everything I knew. Things just snowballed from there, I guess.”

“That would probably explain why you seemed so upset a few months ago. You were nervous.” Then Ganondorf leans towards Dracula and teases, “So what does that imply about you?”

“It implies nothing, you dork,” Dracula groans, playfully pushing Ganondorf away. “I care about all of you, so naturally, when something like teaching someone medicine comes up and I happen to care about them, I tend to have those sorts of episodes.”

“So what does it mean when you don’t move away from me when I intentionally get close enough to put my arm around you?”

“Nothing!”

“I’m messing with you. After all, you’re straight.” The Gerudo’s tone shifts to be flatter. “Or so you like to tell yourself.”

Dracula scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Well, maybe.”

So he’s saying there’s a chance, Ganondorf realizes. “So. My next question. How hard was it? Telling her how you felt and all.”

“I didn’t.”

“Eh?”

“I waited for her to say something since I hadn’t tried to court someone in years. Not since Elizabetha’s death.”

“So who’s she?”

Dracula’s eyes widen in visible horror when he realizes what he just said. With a deep sigh, he admits, “Elizabetha was my first wife. Before I was even a vampire.”

“What happened to her?”

“Illness. I was away at the time and couldn’t even be there for her in her last moments.”

Ganondorf wordlessly pats Dracula’s shoulder. He decides to stop asking questions for now and just exist in the moment, looking over at him. He can’t help but find even the smallest grin weirdly adorable. Then there was the way his eyes glistened like rubies. No, no, that is completely platonic, right? I owe him a lot for what happened that day. That doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything at all.

Dracula’s skin and hair almost seem to glow in the moonlight.

The Gerudo can’t help but stare in admiration. That is, until he is interrupted by knocking on the window leading out to where the two are.

“What?! Huh- Oh. Ann. You scared the Hell out of me,” Ganondorf shouts.

“Sorry. I just wanted to know where you two were. I think something might be up with Charizard, and I don’t know where Leaf is.”

Dracula and Ganondorf both nod, stand up, and follow Ann’s lead to where Charizard is resting.

While quietly making their way through the castle walls, Ganondorf notices he’s finding it harder to focus on the task at hand. Meanwhile, Dracula seems to remain completely level-headed and focused.

Ann looks back at the two and laughs to herself. Futaba would’ve killed to see this. If only she were here. She folds her arms in a meager attempt at hiding her concern.

Chapter Text

Leaf and Ren sit together against the ever-familiar wall in Futaba’s old room. Not even really doing anything, just existing in the same space because it feels familiar and comforting to them. Although they still have that space, it still feels empty and cold.

Ren especially stares at the unfinished computer and thinks about what could’ve been. Then his glance turns to the box containing the operating system. He stands up and sits at the desk. After opening the box, he takes the USB drive and places it in the port. With a bit of trial, error, and actually reading the instructions instead of just trying to get it right without any help, he does manage to finish Futaba’s computer.

But something doesn’t feel right. Futaba should be here where I’m sitting. 

Leaf stands up and quietly stands over the computer. Staring at Ren. Once he glances over, he flinches. “What the hell?”

“Great, you’re alive,” Leaf jokes, poking his forehead.

He playfully moves her hand away. “Of course I’m alive, just because I’m dead inside doesn’t mean I’m literally dead.”

“I know.”

The two take the time to get the computer set up, even knowing Futaba will never get to use it. Once done, they shut the machine down and return to whatever they were doing.

Leaf then lies on her back, with her feet against the wall. After taking an empty pokeball out of her bag, she tosses it up repeatedly as a way to occupy her time. Ren lies next to her and watches the object go up and down. 

He’s almost impressed with how good Leaf is at throwing things.

That’s when the ball suddenly thwacks Ren square in the face, knocking his glasses aside.

Ren blinks and finally speaks after taking a minute to process what happened. “Ow.”

Leaf bursts out laughing and picks up his glasses. Between fits of laughter, she asks, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, that just hurt my pride more than anything else.”

“You’re sure? Because this crack in the lens doesn’t agree.”

Ren jolts up so he’s sitting upright and snatches up his glasses. “What?! What do you mean?!” Then, it turns out there was no crack in the lens. Ren playfully swats her arm. “You little shit, there was no crack.”

“I got you for a second, though.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“I’m not the one who freaked out when I said something.”

“I oughta throw you outside,” Ren jests, scooping up Leaf and carrying her under his arm.

“AH! Stop it, put me down,” Leaf squeals, playfully nudging Joker’s side.

“Hold still, I might drop you, and that’s actually going to hurt.”

Once in the courtyard, Leaf squirms out of his arm and lands face-first into the grass. Without even a second to process, she bounces onto her feet and runs off.

Ren, in turn, gives chase.

Until Leaf climbs up a tree with minimal effort.

Ren accidentally runs into the tree and stumbles back. He protests, “Hey, not fair!”

“You have a grappling hook,” Leaf sings, “Get creative, tall man.”

“Alright, bet.” Ren jumps up into the lower branches and quickly reaches her with minimal effort.

“Hey, careful--”

“We’re fine.”

“No, I’ve climbed this tree before, and something isn’t right.”

“Ah, what do you know?”

Before either can react, they hear a crack and Morgana leaps down.

Then the branch snaps off the tree, and the two fall. Ren quickly grabs Leaf and lets himself hit the ground on his back in an attempt to protect her.

Leaf is the first to stand up. “Are you okay?!” she shouts.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m just going to feel that in a decade or so.” Ren groans, sitting up.

They both hear running and then the doors being punched open. Little Mac rushes there and then heaves a heavy sigh. “I heard a massive thud. Are you two okay?”

“They’re fine,” Morgana monotones.

“Well, what matters is that you’re all okay,” Mac blurts. “We’ve been looking for you two.”

Leaf tilts her head and looks over. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, something is wrong, and apparently Drac needs all hands on deck.”

“Alright.”

The group of four make a run for the castle’s medical wing, now concerned about what could be going on for Dracula of all people to need this much help.

Chapter Text

Haru paces outside the doors leading to the medical wing. Once the sound of running echoes through the castle halls, she looks up from the floor in anxious anticipation. She looks over at Sumire and taps her arm.

“Sumi. I think they’re here,” she whispers.

“I think so, too. I know senpai’s run anywhere,” Sumire expresses.

“I think you like him too much. He’s taken, you know.”

“I know. I’m allowed to have an innocent crush.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just concerned because you memorized how Ren runs.”

“I memorized how everyone walks and runs.”

“I did, too. I’m just surprised you have the skill, too.”

“Sh, they’re here.”

Once Ren, Leaf, Mona, and Mac make it there, they nod at each other as a greeting. Sumire opens the door, lets everyone else in, and follows, closing the door behind her.

Everyone is completely silent, and Leaf can’t help but feel tense. Obviously, something is wrong, but what?

They are greeted by Ann and Ganondorf outside where Dracula is.

“So, what’s going on?” Ren asks.

Ann chupses and scratches the back of her head. “Well… it’s best if Leaf sees for herself. Drac’s not letting anyone else except for Leaf and Sumi inside.”

“Why?”

“It’s hard to explain it well. Just… trust me on this one?”

Ren simply nods and watches as Leaf and Sumire open the door and carefully enter the room.

Once the door is shut, Dracula looks over, wearing full protective gear.

Without another word, he closes a curtain in front of Charizard and approaches. He places protection gear in their hands. In as steady a voice as he can, he dictates, “Put this on. Then you can get close.”

Hooded coveralls, gloves, steel-toed boots, half-face respirator, and face shield. One starts to wonder if these precautions are truly necessary, but at the end of the day, it’s Dracula’s call. Even he’s holding himself to this specific standard of PPE, and only these three people are being allowed inside. 

Once she’s ready. Leaf starts to get closer to Dracula and Charizard. She asks, “What’s going on?”

Dracula sighs and slowly shakes his head. Then he moves the curtain aside to reveal Charizard cowering. More nervous than ever. Though he’s smiling, like he’s trying not to seem nervous. 

“This is roughly phase two of the infection I’ve been studying. The easiest way to tell is here,” he explains, gesturing to the stump on Charizard’s back.

When Leaf gets close and looks for herself, she immediately notices the veins on his back growing darker. “What??” she asks, dumbfounded. She looks back at Dracula. “But… but he tore his wing off. I saw him do it. Wouldn’t the infection be removed?”

“If I’m being honest, I’m not completely sure. My theory is that once the infection is in the bloodstream, it travels startlingly quickly depending on the mental state of the patient.”

“I thought this part of his wing…” She runs a hand along the membrane of Charizard’s remaining wing. “I thought there wasn’t anything there.”

“You’d be mistaken. Observe.” Dracula then stretches the wing and shines a light through the membrane. “You see those lines?”

“Yes.”

“Those are veins. This part of his body still needs circulation to work properly.”

“Oh.”

Sumire makes her way over, and Dracula quietly brings her up to speed. Meanwhile, Leaf tries her best to comfort her Pokémon, hoping and praying that by now, Dracula has some form of treatment. Any form of treatment. Her unease is infectious, as Charizard drapes his wing over her and starts to cry. Seeing the pitiful look on his face brings Leaf to tears.

“Is there anything we can do?” she sobs, hugging Charizard around the neck.

“I’m afraid not,” Dracula admits, though Sumire can tell by the look on his face that admitting this seems to be breaking his heart.

“You don’t have anything?”

“Anything that even theoretically could help would either prove ineffective or cause your friend more pain and suffering. So… you have a choice to make.”

“I’m listening.”

“We can either release him away from civilization, or we euthanize and hope it works.”

Leaf’s eyes widen, and she looks at Charizard. The Pokémon she and Red started their journeys with. The one who was with them since Brawl. The one she raised from a little baby charmander. Now, she is tasked with deciding between letting him go or killing him. Killing him isn’t even guaranteed to work. And if it fails? When he wakes up from that, he’d probably feel so betrayed. What should I do?

Charizard notices the desperate look on her face and manages to sit up. He looks out the room’s window longingly and points outside. She looks up at him and seems to understand what he’s trying to say.

“I’m going to let him go,” she finally answers. “I know where.”

“Here, give me the coordinates so I can safely place him there,” Dracula replies. He holds out his hand. Leaf takes out her map and circles a mountain in the upper-left-hand corner. She hands it over shortly afterwards.

“Can I please go with you? I just want to say goodbye.”

“...Fine. But I’m trusting you to be careful.”

“Okay.”

“Sumire, I’m trusting you to tell the others what happened while Leaf and I are away.”

Sumire then nods and watches as Charizard is bundled up and the wall is parted like there was always a door there. She then leaves to inform the others of what happened.

Dracula bends onto one knee to grab the rope holding the bundle together and gestures for Leaf to grab onto his shoulders. She follows his instructions and the three take to the skies, back towards Leaf’s home game.

It takes a bit of time and help from Leaf with navigation in the Kanto region airspace, but they manage to land on the mountain Leaf circled.

Once on Mount Silver, Leaf lets go of Dracula. He lets go of the bundle, and the two work together to remove Charizard. The animal stands up and shakes off any cramps or aches. Then he looks at the two.

He lowers his head to meet Leaf’s eye level, and she holds his snout. She presses her forehead against his and tries her hardest to hold back her tears. 

However, her efforts are all in vain, and she breaks down into tears. Charizard drapes her in his remaining wing, and it reminds Leaf that this is for the greater good. 

They both seem to understand that.

Before Charizard leaves to find a cave to hide out in, he gives her one last gift: a lone earring he found back in Celadon City.

Leaf holds the pokeball to her chest as the Pokémon she had known for the past 21 years leaves. 

Presumably to never be seen alive and well again.

Leaf instinctively holds onto Dracula like her life depends on it, and further breaks down into tears. Eventually, she’s kneeling in the snow. The vampire can’t help but feel awful for the situation-- if he could save her friend, he would’ve.

He sits on his knees and holds her as she cries. Keeping her protected from the elements using his cape.

His ears twitch as he hears roaring in the distance, and he looks around. He takes the now-empty bundle onto his shoulders and picks Leaf up.

“You poor thing… I’m so sorry I couldn’t save him,” he apologizes.

Leaf grips onto his shirt and glances up. Finally, she weeps, “You… you did everything you could… r-right?”

“You’re right,” he consoles her, “I did everything I could to save him. But, there was only so much that could be done. Let’s head home.”

The two fly home in a vigil, with only the sound of the wind whipping past them and Leaf’s crying keeping them company.

Even the young girl’s tears eventually stop, and she falls asleep.

When Dracula lands back at his castle, he sets the bundle aside to be put away. He takes Leaf inside, removes her protective gear, and sets her in bed with utmost care.

The gear is picked up and put away by a lesser demon. Once back in the medical wing, he finds that where Charizard used to be is now cleaned. Completely sanitized. He removes his protective gear and sits in his chair. He hunches over, looks at where the animal used to be, and stares at it.

He isn’t crying or anything.

Just can’t help but stare at it.

He feels a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to find Little Mac. “Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to check on you. You looked upset-- as in, actually sad instead of your typical expression. You good?” Mac asks, moving his hand between a thumbs up, sideways thumb, thumb down, repeat.

“Ah,” Dracula chupses. “I’m… fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“I was also wondering if maybe next week I could have some help with my boxing training.”

“Why next week?”

“Well, given the whole…” Mac vaguely gestures, “This?”

“That… makes sense. Sure. Sure, I’ll help you. Should be different from my typical routine.”

“Maybe you’ll be a great coach. Who knows? I’ll see you around, Bats.”

Mac then playfully pats Dracula’s shoulder and leaves him be.

…Bats? That’s the nickname he chose? I suppose, given the boxers he’s familiar with, he could’ve come up with worse. Dracula sits up, wondering.

Upon further contemplation, Dracula decides he’ll at least tolerate the nickname.

From the looks of it, though, he might actually be gaining the others’ trust.

Chapter Text

Leaf shambles around the castle halls late at night. After this long, she knows that Dracula and Ganondorf don’t sleep until the early hours of the morning, and eventually stumbles her way to the doors to the library. 

As quietly as she can, she creaks the doors open and curls up in front of the fireplace.

She can’t help but find some form of comfort in the sound of crackling embers and the smell of flames. As Leaf continues to stare into the fiery abyss, she starts to cry.

“Hold on,” a voice starts from a distance.

“Hm?” another responds.

Footsteps grow louder until they come to a stop right next to her. Dracula kneels on the ground next to the poor child and tilts his head. “What are you doing? You should be in bed.”

Leaf meekly answers, “I couldn’t sleep. I like the sound of fire when I’m trying to sleep.”

Dracula then sits next to her and removes his cape to drape over her. He then looks over at Ganondorf, who is currently wrapping up their research for the day. He starts to thread the girl’s hair through his fingers, and she leans into the touch.

Then she yawns, “This… might sound immature, but can you tell me a story?”

“You aren’t immature for asking…” Dracula pauses to think about it, “Of course I will.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m doing this because I want to. Ten isn’t too old to ask for something like this. What kind of society do you live in where parents stop nurturing their children at ten?”

“I don’t know. It’s just always been normal.”

“That shouldn’t be normal. Let me just browse my collection,” he trails off when he starts looking over his collection of fables and stories. Finally, he takes a collection and opens it. The book seems to be so old and well-loved that when opened, it falls to the exact page he was looking for. It has the line in the spine to reflect that. “This one… my son liked this story as a kid. Lisa or I would read it to him every night. ‘Doi feți cu stea în frunte’ or ‘The Boys with the Golden Stars.’”

It is at this moment that Ganondorf finally sits on the floor next to Dracula to read over his shoulder.

Dracula then takes a deep breath and starts to read, “Once, there was a herdsman, and he had three daughters. Ana, Stana and Laptița.”

“Wait,” Leaf asks, “What’s a herdsman?”

“Well…” he thinks, “you know what a Pokémon Trainer is?”

“Yes.”

“It’s kind of like that, but with usually domesticated animals. The ones Ganondorf and I see, not the ones you see.”

“Oh.”

“Out of the three daughters, the youngest was the most beautiful. So one day, the emperor was passing with a few of his attendants when the daughters happened to catch his eye. See, he was traveling the land in search of an empress. When he spoke to the oldest, she told him, ‘If you marry me, I will bake you a loaf of bread that will make you young and brave forever.’”

“Why didn’t he just marry the one he loved the most?” Leaf interrupts.

Dracula heaves a heavy sigh and opens his mouth to answer, but Ganondorf pats his shoulder, and the two nod at each other. The voe finally answers, “Well, back then, people usually didn’t marry because of love. They married for stuff like political power, land, or what have you.”

Leaf looks up a bit and protests, “That isn’t right.”

“I agree.”

“May I please continue now?” Dracula dryly requests. He’s met with a couple of nods, and he finally continues. “The middle child told him, ‘if you marry me, I will make you a shirt that will protect you in any fight, even against a dragon. It will even protect you from fire and water.’ When the emperor finally looked at the youngest, she said, ‘I will bear you twin sons with stars on their foreheads.’ Of course, the emperor married the youngest because of her guaranteed ability to give him an heir. That was important back then, since only men would inherit much of anything from their parents.”

“What about girls?”

“Unfortunately, they were considered property. Some people still think that. To continue what I was saying. Two of the emperor’s attendants married the other two sisters. However, the emperor’s stepmother wanted him to marry his stepsister, so she hated his new wife. With some convincing, she convinces her brother to declare war in an attempt to separate the two.”

“Rude. They’re related legally anyway, why would they do that?”

“Back then, among nobility, what mattered was whether you had pure blood or not. This often resulted in inbreeding.”

“Disgusting.”

“Agreed.”

“So what happened to the empress?”

“She did, in fact, give birth to the twins she promised. But the wicked stepmother promptly killed them, buried them in the corner of the royal garden, and put puppies in their place. So when the emperor returned home, he naturally blamed and punished his wife to show her what would happen to anyone else who deceived him.”

“Not even a chance to defend herself?”

“No.”

“I have some choice words for that.”

“Me too. In a matter of hours after their deaths, two aspen trees grew to their full height when it would usually take years. The stepmother wanted to chop them down, and after some convincing, the emperor allowed her to. But it was on the condition that two beds were made from them. One for him, and one for her. That night, the beds started to talk to each other. Naturally, this annoyed her, so she had new beds made and burned the old ones.”

“Seems like a waste.”

“Yes. Luckily, while they burned, the two brightest sparks fell off and into the river. They then turned into two golden fish. When a fisherman caught them, he wanted to bring them to the emperor alive, but they managed to convince him to let them swim in dew and then dry out in the sun. When he did this, the fish turned back into babies. They matured within days.”

“Bizarre.”

“That’s the nature of these stories. They decided to return to their father’s castle while wearing lambskin caps that covered their hair and stars. They did have to force their way in, but they did get an audience with their father. Despite their refusing to take the caps off, the emperor listened to their story. That’s when they removed their caps, revealing that everything they said was true.”

“So naturally, the stepmother was in some deep shit.”

“Language, Leaf. But you are correct. She was executed, and the emperor took back his wife.”

Finally, Leaf falls asleep. With the utmost care, Dracula moves her back to her bed and then goes to bed after helping Ganondorf clean up the laboratory.

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

For the past few days now, Leaf has been following Dracula wherever she can. As if she needs to be nearby at all times. If she isn’t near Dracula, she’s near Ren.

It’s hard for her to get out of bed. Some days, it simply doesn’t feel worth it. She hasn’t gotten up at all today.

Her thoughts start to wander.

I don’t know why everyone is so worried about me. I’m ten, I should be able to take care of myself. It’s my fault that any of this happened to Charizard, anyway… if I wasn’t so stupid, maybe he would still be here. 

It isn’t fair.

Why do I get to stay here in safety?

Why do I get to keep surviving when everything that made Charizard himself isn’t there anymore?

It’s not fair.

It’s my fault this happened. I wanted to help, but it only led to more problems.

She burrows under the blankets and pillows in some meager attempt at hiding.

There is a knock at the door.

Silence.

Then, a more insistent knock.

Leaf still refuses to budge from where she’s lying in bed. She pokes her head out of the makeshift nest and shouts, ‘The door is unlocked!”

Ren opens the door and sits on the foot of her bed. “You have been in here all day. Are you ok?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to be upset.”

“It feels like it’s my fault. I think if I wasn’t so stupid, I could’ve saved him.”

“Hey,” Ren pauses to think through his next words carefully, “Nobody had any way of knowing what would happen if you did leave to find supplies. You had no way of knowing Charizard would get infected.”

“Him and I were meant to be friends. We were supposed to help each other.”

“And you’re allowed to feel that way. Lying in here won’t make it better, though.”

Leaf turns around to look away from him. “It doesn’t feel worse.”

“It’s only going to feel worse if you keep doing it. Just think about leaving the room, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“I think so.”

“All I can ask of you. I’ll see you around. Just remember we’re all here for each other.”

Ren ruffles her hair and leaves the room. He makes sure he closes the door behind him. 

She takes a moment to think and starts to slither her way out from under the various blankets and covers. She puts her coat and shoes on and manages to go out into the halls of the castle. It is as if her limbs are weighed down by chains and, for a moment, she looks back at her room and wonders if she should just go back to bed.

Well, she made it this far. Why stop now?

Every step she takes fills her with some sort of hope. Even if it's marginal compared to the feeling of hopelessness and self-loathing.

She keeps going until she starts to breathe in fresh air and stops in her place. She made it outside. Once at the edge of the gardens, she looks up at the sky, hoping to find something there above the clouds with her. 

It’s beautiful today. At least there’s that.

Even looking at the gentle hues above her doesn’t feel like enough, though.

The path ahead still seems terrifying, especially now that it’s as if she’s all alone in this. Even with all the people around her, it just feels cold and lonely without Charizard.

She turns and looks at one of the windows above her. Her eyes are almost glazed over; completely soulless, even.

How?

How does someone like him manage to move on so easily from things?

If I didn’t know any better, I’d probably say I’m jealous. I know I’m not, the trait is just surprising. I wish I could detach myself like that. Things would probably be easier being soulless as him. It’s easy not to care about things. I don’t want to care. Why do I have to feel these things?!

“Leaf?” Dracula asks, visibly confused. 

Leaf jumps and flinches, then realizes she’s been sitting like an angry teenager this entire time. “EEP!”

“I didn’t mean to spook you. I noticed you were sitting like that and figured I’d check in.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t really matter.”

The vampire sighs and shakes his head. It’s almost like he’s… amused? Leaf starts to wonder how he can be amused in a time like this. “I know that look anywhere. A teenager who just wants to watch the world burn. That you think nobody understands how you’re feeling?”

“How…?”

“I have raised teens before. I know the look of an angsty teenager anywhere.”

“I just… I feel like I’m going through this alone while everyone else is moving on.”

“You aren’t. I promise.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not. Everyone processes these things differently. You are choosing to isolate yourself, which paves the way for anger and plots for vengeance.”

“How do you know that?!”

“Because I did the exact thing you did?”

“You did.”

“Yes. I remember it. 1093. I had returned home from a successful campaign away from home when I learned that my late wife had passed away. I remember being bedridden for almost a year to the day.”

“I never knew. Was it Lisa?”

“No. Elisabetha.” Dracula then looks over at a couple of statues near a pavilion. 

“So you do get it.”

“I do. And I’d rather you don’t go down that same path. It leads to heartbreak and betrayal no matter what you choose.”

“Ok.”

The two share a moment of silence.

Dracula then looks back at Leaf. “I’m proud you managed to come out here. Even if it’s just for a few moments.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you alone. Speak to me if you feel the need to.”

Dracula then gives a curt nod and dismisses himself from the conversation. His ear flicks at the sound of rapid footsteps, like someone is trying to quickly sneak up on him. Then the sound of a heartbeat and the sensation of body warmth to his left. He notices someone trying to tap his right shoulder and turns to look at Ren.

“You genuinely thought that would work?” Dracula teases, “I could hear you sneaking up on me.”

“Damn,” Ren exasperates, “You’re good.”

“Did you want something?”

“You revealed more information, and it wasn’t to my face?”

“So you eavesdropped.”

“Guilty.”

“That was on me. But I did tell you to actively seek it out, and that was certainly creative. Less than last time, but still creative compared to other people trying to learn my secrets.”

“You said it wouldn’t be easy.”

“You’re correct. But like any good puzzle, I know when I’ve been solved. So. Elizabetha. She was first, then Lisa. That is the only free information you’re getting this time.”

“I’ll find more!”

“I’m sure you will, young thief. I look forward to seeing your future plans. It’s actually fun hiding my secrets from you.”

“Heeey, I thought Ganondorf was the fun one!”

“You are fun in a different way. You’re clever and sneaky. A puzzle solver. I like coming up with puzzles, and you like solving them.”

Ren then gives Dracula a couple of friendly taps on the shoulder and heads off to find his next snippet of information.

Chapter Text

Part 1

Dracula toils away at a bookshelf. Making the appropriate repairs and making modifications where he sees fit. 

I need to keep this shelf consistent with the others, even if these specific books are fake and only serve as clues. The door needs to hide in plain sight. That means it has to be books he’d likely recognize.

He hears something fall onto the floor and stops. After putting his tools aside, Dracula turns and looks at what fell-- Ren’s dagger. He glances up.

“You’re terrible at this. Aren’t you the leader of a gang of thieves?” Dracula snarks.

“Yeah…” Ren admits, climbing down from the library’s rafters and picking up the dagger. “I keep making mistakes when I’m trying to get information about you.”

“I tend to have that effect on people trying to uncover my secrets.”

Ren takes a moment to think. Then he asks, “Do you even trust any of us?”

“I do. It’s hard to admit, but you wouldn’t be living in my castle if I didn’t trust any of you.” 

“But not enough to tell us your secrets?”

“No.”

“Worth a shot. I’ll figure you out eventually.”

“I’m sure you will, but today is not the day. You weren’t planning on sneaking some puzzle solution by doing that, were you? Because that’s the oldest trick in the book.”

“Guilty.”

“Nice try, then. You need to find the solutions yourself or simply guess.”

“Eh, I tried.”

Dracula then steps aside and gestures towards the bookcase. “Well, since you already know there’s a puzzle here, go on ahead.”

With some hesitation, Ren gets in close to the shelf and starts looking at the books. He stares it up and down and starts going through different possibilities for what the puzzle could be. 

Ren starts by tugging on books. Nothing. So it isn’t a lever system. Well, what if the books are out of order?

Dracula tends to keep his books in Universal Decimal Classification order. Perhaps they’re all sorted by a different system. Perhaps Dewey Decimal since it’s another common system.  

He starts reshelving books and waiting for some kind of clarification that he’s doing anything right.

When this fails, he tries placing them in alphabetical order. English, Romanian, Latin, and other alphabets Dracula would likely know.

Nothing. 

Ren paces in front of the bookcase while thinking about what the puzzle could possibly be. Could it be a cipher? A word search? 

Then he lightly smacks his forehead in annoyance.

How could I forget?!

He then turns back to the bookshelf and narrows his eyes. Then he leans forward a bit, and his eyes glisten for the first time in months. He should’ve been using this a while ago. How on Earth did I forget I could do this?

A butterfly mask briefly appears on his glasses, and as soon as his sixth sense is activated, it reveals what the puzzle is even supposed to be. 

A cryptex puzzle of all things. With clues being in different books, all highlighted in blue for convenience. 

“I think I have an idea of what I’m doing now…” Ren trails off. He reaches for a book on the highest shelf and looks along the outside. The pages are all weirdly pasted together? 

“Do you, now?” Dracula takes a seat and crosses his legs at the ankle. “Well, you’ve been at this for half an hour, so forgive me if I’m unsure.”

Ren stands upright and turns a bit. “Don’t you have anything better to do than watch me fail at a bookshelf puzzle?”

“Let me think…” Dracula starts to whisper, “I still have to wait for the cultures to grow, and that takes at most five days, and it’s only been two. I need to either find or develop other medicines I’m running low on, so more experiments can’t be run. Orb is still under close examination, but studies can take months to complete… we have plenty of supplies, nobody needs urgent medical care, no real maintenance has to be done on the castle at this point in time, and we still have power and fresh water.”

“Well?”

“I have nothing better to do. I checked.”

“Very funny.”

“I try.”

Ren puts the book back and takes another off the shelf: a copy of The Sleeper. Not a completely out-of-character choice. It falls open in his hand, and he starts to flip through it. A quote catches his eye, and he mutters, “At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon…? So this has to be relevant somehow. These sorts of puzzles tend to be numbers-based…” He starts to count off months on his fingers. “Ichi-gatsu… Ni-gatsu… San-gatsu… Go-gatsu… Roku-gatsu. Six. But does he put the month or the day first when he writes his dates?”

Ren delicately sets the book down and looks for clues that would indicate how he writes his dates. He notices a cabinet and starts to snoop through it until he finds the study’s notes and looks at previous entries. The most recent reads, “3rd day before Nones, May, 2025.”

What does that even mean? Ren looks at the date on his phone. The date is the fifth of May. After some more brief digging, he learns what some of the words Dracula wrote down actually mean. So that stands to reason that if the code is a date, then 06 is two of the answers.

He goes back over to the bookcase after cleaning up his mess and grabs a separate book. This time, a collection of horror film history. He flips through its pages, not finding much of note at first. 1931… 40s, 50s… still nothing. Night of the Living Dead? Nope. It isn’t until he finds a section on Friday the 13th that he finally pauses to think.

He knows he’s looking for numbers. If he continues to follow his assumption that the solution is a date, and he already has the month, then he’s either going to find the day or the year in this scenario. 

Did that movie even release in June? Wait, no, it was released on May ninth. So it isn’t about the release date. The only other option I can see would be the thirteen in the title. It does describe a day of the week, specifically the thirteenth. That may be our day, then. June 13th? If this is a Friday the 13th, like this clue implies, then what year would have one in the month of June?

He sets the book back on the shelf and finally picks up a history book that particularly stands out to him. “Alchemy: A History.”

Ren tilts his head. The other two are horror-related in some way, so if this book is a clue, it doesn’t align with the other two.

Though it is entirely possible Dracula did that on purpose.

Regardless of its thematic dissonance, Ren still decides to give it a look. He notices that a specific section has been marked; once he turns to it, he notices it’s about the eleventh century. He studies every word, even noting Dracula's writing in the margins. Nothing seems particularly noteworthy until he finds a section covered in notes and with important parts boxed in.

He continues to scan for numbers until the date 1062 catches his eye. It’s the only real date he can find, so he keeps it in the back of his mind for later. With the three parts of a date, he realizes he needs to find the compartment where the actual cryptex is in since he has seen neither hide nor hair of it. 

He looks at the three books he looked over and decides to shelf them in the order he thinks they’re supposed to go.

Day. Month. Year. He hears a click, then the sound of gears turning. He looks over the shelf and spots some books being moved behind the shelf and revealing a compartment with the final bit of the puzzle. 

He quickly inputs what he thinks the answer is and steps back.

Nothing.

“Eh? I… I thought…? W-what?” Ren stammers, looking at the situation at hand.

Dracula laughs to himself and asks while swirling a glass of blood, “Did you think I’d make it that easy? That was only part of the solution.”

“You-- never mind. I should’ve known that was only one part of the solution.”

“Honestly, you should’ve known something was up.”

Ren palms his forehead. How stupid can I be? “Okay, okay, this is fine.”

He looks over the books again for clues.

Seven slots, and the odds of it being numbers are low because it’d be difficult to find any other numbers that’d fit.

Ren’s attention eventually turns to the alchemy books. There have to be clues here, right? It’s so out of place compared to the other books on this shelf, it has to be something.

The words all start to blur together, and none of it makes sense anymore. He doesn’t know this topic like he understands modern science.

His eyebrows furrow, and he hunches over the book. He only stops when he accidentally slices his finger open on a page.

Dracula sets the glass aside and summons a first aid kit. He calmly approaches and tends to the paper cut properly. Then he turns to a specific page as if intentionally giving away a hint.

The pages are about the crimson stone and its creation. How it was made in 1094 but hasn’t been seen since.

Ren sighs and decides to at least accept the one hint Dracula willingly gave away. The more he pores over the text, the more it reads off the Belmont legend. The origins of the vampire killer and how the Belmonts became vampire hunters. A name stands out to him. Mathias. Seven letters.

Ren drops the book, but promptly catches it just before it hits the ground. He props it up so he can reference it and tries to spell out the name in the cryptex. 

Success. Ren puts the book back where it was, and he steps back. The shelf moves back into the wall and moves aside. Past the hidden door, he notices a small gallery. One that seems to be showcasing someone’s military achievements over the years.

In awe, he enters and looks at the artifacts. Somehow, they seem almost unaffected by the passage of time. 

But how? Other artifacts from this period are either painstakingly restored, eroded away, or in pieces. These armor pieces and weapons aren’t. This shouldn’t be possible. Why hide these away when they have so much value to the scientific community?

He starts to wonder what Dracula is trying to say in the puzzle and what is hidden behind it. 

“You did it,” Dracula comments. 

Ren jumps and turns to look at him. “You don’t sound happy I solved it.”

“I don’t like this place. It represents a part of my life I don’t like to look back on.”

“So these items all belong to?”

“Me. I’ve owned these items for hundreds of years as a reminder. I can’t let go of them, so I hide them away. They’re always there, but I don’t pay any attention to them.”

“So these are yours. Was all this from before or after vampirism?”

“Before. It’s the life I had before everything fell apart.”

“So did the puzzle solutions mean anything too?”

“Yes. I always acknowledge June 13th as my date of birth… all the way back in 1062. I probably forgot the actual day a very long time ago, but it’s the best I’ve got. As for the second solution.”

“That was your birth name, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting… sealing this all away must’ve been what preserved these objects for so long.”

“That and taking proper care of them for so long.”

Ren looks around again and stands in front of Dracula. “Thank you for trusting me with this information.”

“Of course. You wanted answers, and here they are.”

“For the record, I’ve trusted you for a while now, but never found the right time to tell you.”

“I see,” Dracula smiles. “I appreciate it.”

The two leave the small museum, closing the door behind them to presumably never see them again.

Part 2

Dracula is suddenly woken up by his bedroom door being slammed open. Reluctant to get out of bed, he covers his head with a pillow.

“C’mon, you said you’d help train today!” Mac pleads, poking and prodding the vampire with a stick.

“You didn’t say the day started so early,” Dracula groans, sits up and stretches.

“No rest for the wicked, come on, let’s get going!”

“Fine.”

Dracula then shooes Mac out and drags himself out of bed. After getting dressed, he leaves the room and leads the young boxer to where he personally trains.

Mac takes a minute to look around.

“So.” Dracula leans back and crosses his arms. “What is it that you do first? Remind me, I’m rusty with boxing.”

“Cardio. So, jump rope, or running 7 miles. Anything like that, or are you so old-fashioned it doesn’t exist?” Mac teases.

“Ha ha, I have been doing that shit for most of my life. What, do you think all this is for show? Most of this is to maintain my body type with all the existing in my castle I do.”

“You work out? For real?”

“Yes. I do.”

“I really thought all that strength was from you being… a vampire?”

“Partly. I had to be strong before then. Whatever the case, if you want to run, the garden is free. Cold, but free to use as a track. I do that track daily to prevent rigor mortis and keep my body functioning properly.”

“Don’t front on me, man. If you mean that, we’ll run together.”

“If you say so. But I will be holding back, because usually the run takes a few minutes or so.”

“Minutes?! You’re not being dead-ass right now.”

“Well, you’re allowed to not believe me, but it’s true.”

“It takes me an hour to run seven miles!”

“Vampire speed.”

“Oh. I’m dumb. Fine, you go do whatever it is you do before training and come back.” 

Dracula sighs and turns to walk away. “Fine.”

“But. I dare you to prove you’re actually built like you say you are. I train in a tank top, you train in one.”

“Fine. You don’t believe me, I’ll prove it.”

As Dracula walks away, Mac stares in the direction he’s going. He sets a hand on his hip and looks at the ground. I didn’t expect him to actually go through with it.

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

Dracula gets changed and leaves his daily clothing on the screen he changed behind and starts back towards Mac. He pauses when he hears a door being pushed open and turns.

Ganondorf yawns and scratches the back of his neck. Once he notices someone’s there, he stands up straight and looks mid-swallow. He promptly starts to choke on his own saliva. After beating his chest a few times, he stops coughing and tries to compose himself.

“Are you okay…? That was certainly a reaction…” the vampire asks, perplexed.

“You… um… you- You just surprised me, that’s all! I never see you actually ready for your training, so it just caught me off guard! That’s-- that’s all!” Ganondorf splutters. He tightens his hands into fists and clenches his jaw.

“Right. Judging by your heartbeat and how you’re actively averting your eyes, definitely means I caught you by surprise.”

“That… shut up. I just didn’t think I’d see your… very lean and muscular build-- I don’t mean anything by that! I mean, I do, but it’s more ‘I didn't think a man of science would look like this when showing more skin’. It’s uh… ah… a compliment among Gerudo. Yes.”

“Uh-huh. I should be off. I promised Mac I’d train with him, and he dared me to run looking like this. I’ll see you around, then.” Dracula then nudges the voe’s arm with his shoulder and struts away.

Ganondorf quickly returns to his room and shuts the door behind him. After sitting against the door, he covers his face with his hands. He starts to silently curse himself.

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

When Dracula finally returns, Mac looks over and bluntly notes, “I mean this in the straightest and most platonic way possible. I did not expect you to look like that, and I’m honestly shocked you aren’t in combat sports.”

“If I were in combat sports, my opponents would die,” Dracula scoffs without missing a beat.

Without another word, Dracula turns on his heel and starts towards the garden. Mac quickly catches up, and they finally make it to the garden. 

The vampire stands with his right foot forward and looks at Mac, preparing for a proper start to a run. “On three,” he says. “Okay?”

Mac gives a thumbs up, and after the count of three, the two start the seven-mile run. 

Dracula is actively working at a jogging pace to keep an eye on Mac to make sure he’s going along the trail alright.

Half an hour in, Mac slows down slightly to take a drink of water and then catches back up.

“Damn you’re fast…” Mac heaves, still managing to keep up.

“I’m only at my jogging pace,” Dracula explains, “I’m impressed you can even match that.”

“You’re jogging?!”

“You thought this was my top speed?”

“No, but I didn’t expect it to be jogging..?”

Once the hour has passed, Mac slows and eventually halts. After taking a seat on a stone bench, he takes a long drink of water. The two then return to Dracula’s training arena.

Mac looks around again and continues his exercises for the morning.

He gets so lost in his routine, he realizes Dracula has left. He sits up after finishing his bench presses and looks around, nervous. What if the weights had fallen onto him? He would’ve been very hurt.

Mac then recoils to make himself smaller. “Hey-- Bats. Bats, you’re here, right?”

“I’m here,” Dracula answers from the shadows, stepping out from under an overhang in the arena. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry.”

“Nono, I just got concerned, is all. Good to know you’re reliable when it comes to spotting, though.”

“Naturally. I’m not going to let someone get seriously injured in this arena if it isn’t needed.”

Mac stands up and stands at Dracula’s side. After standing on his toes, he manages to give a friendly pat on the shoulder and cracks a smile. “You remind me of Doc. You’re good at training, dead-ass.”

“Well, 900 years to kill, you tend to be good at these things.”

“You have a gift, though, no shot you just developed that shit.”

“You’re just being nice, now.”

“No. You’re surprisingly reliable. Wouldn’t take you for a really trustworthy guy just looking at you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Whatever. I’ll catch you later. I’m raiding the fridge.”

“Don’t eat the raw meat.”

“I’m a fool, not an idiot.”

Dracula watches Mac leave the arena and crosses his arms. He looks down at his shoes and leans back on his body weight.

A thought starts to cross his mind.

Second time this week, someone admitted they trust me. How? I don’t understand.

Part 3

It is roughly 5 in the morning. Leaf gently opens Dracula’s bedroom door and tiptoes inside, hugging herself.

Eventually, she quietly makes it to the bed and climbs on. She sits next to Dracula, who stirs in the presence of sudden body warmth.

“What…” he asks, groggy, “Leaf, what are you doing awake?”

“I can’t sleep,” she answers. 

Dracula makes himself sit up, and he looks at the young girl. “Don’t you have some sort of comfort item? I don’t hate that you thought to find me because you couldn’t sleep, I’m just wondering.”

“No. I had to leave what I had behind.”

“Alright… if it’s really bothering you that much… you can stay.”

“Okay…”

Leaf then snuggles up under the covers and tries to fall asleep. Noting her struggling, Dracula drags himself out of bed and mutters, “I’ll be back in a second.”

His body feels heavy as it trudges out of the room and down the hallway. With a snap of his fingers, a door becomes unlocked, and he enters a seemingly untouched bedroom. He looks around and notices a plush wolf sitting on the foot of the bed. Just like he left it so long ago.

Ever so gently, he scoops up the toy and leaves the room, locking it behind him.

Then he returns, offering the toy to Leaf.

“Here,” he sighs, “I’ll let you borrow it for now. I’ll make you your own tomorrow.” 

Then he gets back in bed and starts to go back to sleep once she holds the plush close to her.

When he looks over at her, he notices she fell asleep alarmingly quickly. He settles back in for the night when a small voice can be heard.

“I love you, Dad…” she whispers in her sleep, “Good night…”

He can’t help but smile and goes back to sleep.

Part 4

Dracula leans back in his chair, reading a book, when the doors open and shut. When he looks over, he notices Ann has huddled up near the fire.

“What are you doing?” Dracula asks, barely looking up from the pages.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?” Ann whips around to look at him and starts to move away.

“No, no. I was just wondering what you were up to.”

“It’s just cold in my room, and I don’t know how the fireplace in it works.”

“Do you want me to tell you how?”

“Please.”

“It isn’t gas, all you need is some decent logs, twigs, and some kindling. I have plenty in the kitchen. To light it, take some paper, light it on fire, set it in the fireplace on top of the kindling, and wait.”

“Thank you.”

Dracula curtly nods and starts to take mental note of her measurements.

“Why are you staring at me?” Ann accuses, shrinking.

“Trying to figure out your clothing size. Apologies, I didn’t mean anything harmful by it,” Dracula cooly explains, focusing back on the book.

“Oh. That’s all?”

“Yes.”

Ann briefly removes her jacket and checks the size. “15, by Japanese standards.”

“So a 16 in United Kingdom standards.” He does some quick math in his head. 30 rabbit pelts. Workable, since he has so many animal pelts, he hardly knows what to do with them. He had his sewing supplies out already from earlier that day anyway. With a wave of his hand, roughly 30 rabbit skins appear from what seems like nowhere. With utmost care and precision, he starts work on the coat.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see. You don’t mind wearing fur, do you?”

“Is it real fur?”

“No, it’s faux fur made from the finest non-biodegradable plastic material and originated from China’s best sweatshops, made in such a way that it’ll last for five years then fall apart because they’re all overworked and underpaid.”

“WHAT?!”

“That was sarcasm. Yes, it is real fur. Did you actually think I condone any of that?”

“I mean, you had me for a minute there.”

“So, to keep with the topic at hand. Do you mind wearing real fur?”

“No.”

“Great.”

The room is then silent, aside from the sounds of rabbit pelt being sewn together to start the form of a coat.

“So,” Dracula starts in an attempt to make conversation, “How have you been holding up after everything so far?”

“I’ve been fine. I miss the old days, but I think I’m adjusting fine. You have a very nice castle, it’s easy to get comfortable.”

“Why, thank you. I try to keep my space to my tastes.”

“You did all this? I thought for sure this was all done with a feminine touch. No, you’re just good at what you do. It must’ve taken forever to figure out what you like.”

“Yes. I did have some help with some of the woven elements when I was just learning. See the rug you’re sitting on?”

“You made this? It’s very well made and comfortable. Like a large blanket.”

“I did. With all the time in the world to kill and all. It doesn’t bear repeating. It took forever to get the design how I liked it.”

“I’m a model, you know.”

“Is that even legal?”

“Mostly for teen magazines right now, since I’m underage.”

“Good, all good. I got concerned.”

There is a brief period of silence, then Ann moves to the sofa, close to Dracula. She leans in to better listen.

“Do you make dresses?”

“I haven’t in a very long while, but I have made them. My favorite projects are the ones for my family members. I remember this lovely dress I had modified for Lisa. It was an old piece of hers that had rips and tears in it. Hand embroidered with good quality thread in whatever design, the rips and tears took me.”

“I’d like to see them one day.”

Dracula flinches and nearly pricks his finger. “Yes, yes, maybe one day. It’s still a bit of a sore spot. Looking back on it now, it’s interesting you picked the room you did. I store Lisa’s old clothing there. In the trunk you currently use as a bedside desk.”

“Would you be upset if I rooted through the collection?”

“No. I will be upset if you damage any pieces. Those techniques are old and outdated. It’s hard to train people to replicate it, so I end up doing it myself.”

Dracula then goes completely silent. The base coat is done, but it needs some finishing touches. He looks over Ann’s outfit again, and he remembers some materials he’s been saving. With a wave of a hand, some expensive-looking black embroidery thread, a collection of old buttons, the cap of a rabbit with particularly large ears, down, wool, and some black and red fabric.

He starts by painstakingly embroidering the seams with the thread for both security and for looks. Then he finds a set of five metal cat buttons he’s been saving and adds them an equal distance apart on one side, and slots for them where appropriate. He is sure to line the coat with the fabric before finishing the respective buttonholes on the other side. He takes the stuffing he gathered for the coat and uses his magic to fill it for more insulation. With the practical touches finished, he takes the time to preserve the rabbit ears, stuff them, and add armature wire to the inside. He then stitches the ears on and delicately uses strong fabric glue to add loose wefts of fur to hide the stitching.

With a sigh, he holds out the project and looks over it to make sure everything is exactly as he wanted it.

Perfection.

Putting his supplies aside, he makes sure the fur is clean before finally gifting it to Ann.

She looks at the coat, then at Dracula. She cautiously takes the coat and immediately notices how soft it is. She can’t help but think the ears are a cute touch, too. After trying it on, she pulls the hood over her head and kicks her feet.

“I didn’t expect this to be so comfy!” Ann exclaims, visibly smiling.

“I’m glad you like it,” Dracula responds, content that she shouldn’t be too cold from here on out.

Suddenly, Ann gets closer to him for a hug. “Thank you!”

“I…” Dracula eventually hugs back. “You’re welcome.”

Part 5

Morgana lounges on Ann’s blankets, his limbs tucked under his body.

When she sits next to him, Ann gives Mona scratches between his ears, resulting in loud purring. He looks over to smile at her, but jumps at the sight of this person in a new coat that doesn’t even smell like her.

“ACK! Who are you?! Explain yourself!” Morgana shouts, trying to make himself look bigger.

“Mona,” Ann exasperates, pulling her hood down, “It’s just me.”

“You’re covered in fur?!”

“Calm. Down.”

Ann playfully boops Morgana’s snout, but flinches when he grabs onto her arm. Claws and all.

She tries to move her hand away, only for Morgana to grab onto her tightly and bite down on her hand.

She frantically shrieks, “Okay, okay, I’ll hold still!”

Morgana then starts aggressively licking the coat. Gradually, he climbs all over her, licking the coat until he deems it “clean”. 

Once done, Morgana returns to where he was lying down and relaxes for a moment.

Then the coughing starts from all the loose hair.

Soon, the poor creature is retching.

Ann’s eyes widen in horror, and she quickly scoops up the cat. She rushes outside to not ruin anything Morgana would actually want to vomit on.

He starts to cough and wheeze from the blockage in his throat. Finally, he coughs up the disproportionately large hairball onto the stone floor and sits down to clean himself like he didn’t just hack something up.

She asks in as gentle a tone as she can, “Are you okay?”

“I’m better now. Hate it when that happens,” Morgana bluntly answers, using his paw to clean his face.

“If you say so. You scared me, you know that?”

“Sorry, Lady Ann…” Morgana starts to purr while Ann scoops him up and brings him back inside. “Who made you that coat, anyway?”

“Dracula did. He noticed I was cold.”

“Did he make you pay for that?”

“No.”

“Perhaps I treated him too harshly.”

“Oh, shush, you stole that from Featherman: Endgame. You still owe him an apology.”

“Fine. But I have important not-cat business to attend to first.”

Part 6

“Hey, have any of you seen my recipe books? The collection’s just gone,” Dracula asks, attempting to keep his voice level.

Ren looks up from his book and replies, “Oh, yeah, The Floof swiped as many as she could carry and went to the kitchen. I forgot to tell you sooner.”

“Okay, that’s fine, as long as they aren’t destroyed.”

“Glad I could help.”

Dracula quickly makes his way to the kitchen, and sure enough, he’s met with a massive stack of books on the table.

“Haru.” Dracula crosses his arms and looks at her.

“Oh- hi? Are you mad at me? Please don’t be mad at me,” she quickly responds, wringing her hands.

“No, no, I’m not angry. The books are intact, and nobody is in danger. What are you doing?”

“Trying to teach myself how to cook.”

“May I ask why?”

“It’s… a long story.”

“Well, I’m willing to listen, and I have to feed you all anyway. Why not give me a hand, if that’ll make it easier?”

Haru looks up with her eyebrows raised, and she promptly stands up to wash her hands. While she’s occupied with that, Dracula makes sure the books are put away except for one. He flips to a specific recipe and props the book up.

However, it isn’t for his sake, it’s for Haru’s. 

1 kilo of pheasant legs, 3 yellow and red onions each, a celery stick, a carrot, chopped tomatoes, 5 garlic cloves, 3 bay leaves, 2 teaspoons of smoked paprika, and a teaspoon of dried thyme.

Finally, a particularly deep pan and vegetable oil are taken down from their high up spot in the cabinets.

With the pot on the stove, he adds a generous amount of vegetable oil and turns on the stove.

Then he looks over at Haru. “Do you know how to chop vegetables?”

Haru quietly nods. “What do you want me to chop?”

“The celery, onions, garlic, and carrots. Please. I’d appreciate it.”

“Okay?” Haru dutifully starts chopping them up. She keeps glancing at Dracula while he browns the pheasant legs.

“Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know? I’m just thinking about my dad again, I think.”

“I see. He must’ve been particularly nasty, and even that would’ve sold it short.”

“Lucky guess. He ran a fast food empire back home.”

“Ran? What happened?”

“Assassinated.” Haru bluntly explains, sighing.

“That… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything like that.”

“I know you didn’t. He was so awful, I was basically a pawn in his political game, but…?” Haru’s hand is suddenly stopped before her knife can accidentally hit her hand. “What are you doing?”

“You almost sliced your hand open. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, I must’ve zoned out. Thanks. To finish my sentence. In an ideal world, he’d still be around and not corrupted by that stupid political game of chess he got caught up in. We could’ve had a chain of home-made, good quality food in a place with natural decor.”

“I’ve certainly been there,” Dracula sets the pheasant aside and tosses in the chopped onions and garlic to gently saute them. “Some days I still get caught up in what could’ve been if everything in my life didn’t go so wrong.”

“You do? You seem to have everything you could want.”

“Well… I used to have it all. How quickly someone you care about can be taken away…”

“Your family, right?”

“Especially my son. I look back on it wishing I did things differently, but hundreds of years after he walked away? It’s a bit late for apologies. Every day, I wake up and hope my son is doing all right on his own.”

Haru then stirs in the celery and carrot. “Yes… I understand. I remember being so devastated when my father died. I wanted him to change and be better so badly that when he didn’t get the chance, it stung.”

“I imagine my boy feels the same about me, but I can’t know for sure. There are some words he said the last time we saw each other that still stick with me.”

“What were they?”

“Farewell, father. Believe it or not, I shall miss you…” Dracula’s voice breaks a little, but he covers it up by clearing his throat. “He said that after we had fought… so even after fighting my own son.”

“He still loved you, and you still love him a lot.”

“Yes. I can’t imagine how you must feel, learning your dad had been murdered.”

“It gets worse.”

Dracula adds the tomatoes and looks over. He asks in disbelief, “How?”

“I had to watch him die. He was holding a press conference that was aired on national television.”

“So he died there. In the middle of apologizing?”

“Yes.”

“Tragic.” 

Dracula puts the pheasant back in the pan, adds the spices, then enough hot water to barely cover it. After some stirring, the pan is covered and left to simmer.

Haru quietly nods and notices she’s starting to cry. She holds onto the hem of her sweater and tries to hold back her tears.

Dracula looks at her, understanding the grief she’s going through, and pulls her into a hug.

This causes her to break down into tears and hug back as tightly as she can.

He stays there, not particularly knowing what he can really do from here.

Part 7

A knock is heard from the door to Dracula’s study.

Dracula scrambles to perk up and states, “Come in!”

Sumire meekly enters the room and sits in a chair near Dracula’s desk. “Hi?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah… but, please forgive senpai because… he told me about your old name.”

“That isn’t a problem. But that doesn’t seem to be the whole story.”

“I had some questions, too.”

“There it is. Ask what you will.”

“Well, the first is simple. Your birth name is Mathias, so I’m guessing you changed your name?”

“Not just my name. My entire identity. At the time, it was much easier. However, I don’t want to go completely into the process.”

“Understandable. You probably moved very far away, though, right?”

“Yes. That was the most difficult part. It’s why I moved into such a dense forest. I wouldn’t have to re-integrate into human society if I didn’t want to.”

“Don’t you miss where you grew up?”

“Sometimes. Not a lot. It’s been so long that the memories feel like eons away.”

“That leads to another question.”

“I thought Ren was nosy.”

“Well, it’s about vampires. They’re undead, correct?”

“Yes.”

“That means, naturally, someone has to die to become one.”

“Traditionally, yes. It’s why some choose to bite their victims in their sleep.”

“Well, how did you die?”

Dracula whips his head so he’s looking at Sumire. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious.”

“That’s a bit of a morbid curiosity for someone like you to have. Or is the cheerful behavior a front?”

“What? Never, what would make you say that?”

“Nobody who’s truly happy would just walk up to an undead and ask how they died.”

“Maybe you’re just being defensive.”

“I’m a vampire, some nights it feels like everything is out to put me back in the grave.”

“Well, there was just an incident with my sister, but I’m doing so much better these days. I get curious.”

“I suppose.” Dracula continues to stare as if trying to read her like a book. He tilts his head and sighs. “If that’s what you’re choosing to tell yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What I mean is…” he pauses to choose his next words with utmost care, “I’ve seen many lost souls telling themselves lies to escape their troubles. It’s that weakness all humans have, and sometimes it can be as easy as opening the right book.”

“You seem familiar with it.”

“I’m my series’ version of the devil. Knowing these things is second nature. I have my secrets, everyone does, but I think you’re projecting being defensive onto me. There’s more to the incident. Isn’t there?”

“Maybe there is, and we’re in the same boat. Not wanting to talk about it.”

“I understand.”

“Then, how did you die?”

“Well, the same way most people do. Suddenly and without warning.”

“You’re being vague on purpose.”

“I still answered your question. You didn’t ask for specifics. It’s interesting talking to you. You’re neither an open book nor one that refuses to open.”

“Rude.”

“That was a compliment. I respect you being able to balance those traits. Very good facade, too. I saw the mask drop for a second.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Sumi asks, straightening her posture.

“I saw the glint of happiness leave your eyes for a moment. Your eyes don’t lie. I will listen to you if you need me to.”

“Fine.” Sumire finally lets the cheerful facade drop. Her shoulders sag, and she leans back. “But you’re telling me your problems too, because you figured it out way too quickly for someone like me to not be familiar to you.”

“Agreed.”

“Alright… I had an older sister. We were both gymnasts, and we were both talented at it. I just kept coming in second place and eventually lost my temper. I ran away, but I didn’t notice I was running into oncoming traffic and… and… my sister pushed me out of the way and died instead… I’ve been dealing with the issues since.”

“I see. I imagine you still feel very guilty about it.”

“I do. I feel much better, though, with help from my friends. It made losing Ryuji and Futaba easier, too. Still difficult, but I can navigate them more easily.”

“Makes sense. Now, as I promised, I’ll elaborate on what happened to me.”

“Alright.”

“It relates to Elisabetha-- Ren told you what I told him, yes?”

“He did.”

“Making sure. When she passed, I was bedridden for a long time. Actually, loving your spouse was less common at the time, so my reaction was obviously odd to the other nobles. By the end of that year, I began to formulate a plan to spite God by becoming immortal. The plan went exactly as I thought it would, and my prized possession was made.” Dracula gestures to the crimson stone.

“So what killed you?”

“The process of forming the crimson stone. As you said, becoming a vampire means you have to die first. The night it happened, Mathias died. I am what’s left because of my deal with Chaos. The deal that lets this castle be what it is. The deal that allows me to still be here.”

Sumire takes a moment to think and sits upright again. Jaw dropped, and her eyes widen. She reaches towards Dracula in an attempt to console him.

To prove his story is true, Dracula moves his hair aside and tilts his neck.

Sure enough, no bite.

Only the crimson stone he keeps around his neck.

Realizing her questions had already been answered, she stands up. Then she gives a curtsey and leaves the study to tell the others what she learned.

Dracula solemnly nods and turns back to what he was doing.

Chapter Text

Dracula hastily tightens the ropes holding the curtains in place and starts to pace in the library. He needs to come up with an excuse, fast. 

He needs to think.

There has to be a believable excuse for the laboratory to be inaccessible that won’t tell the others what happened. 

I need to also meet up with Mac in the training arena later. 

Shit, shit, shit.

“Hey. Dracula. Is everything--” Ganondorf is promptly cut off.

“It’s fine!” Dracula clears his throat. “It’s fine. Really. Everything is under control.”

“Really?”

Dracula lowers his voice to a whisper, “Can you keep a secret?”

“Always.”

“Alright…”

Dracula hesitantly moves the curtain aside. Once Ganondorf peeks past, his blood runs cold. “What happened?”

“I don’t know the exact details. What I do know is, two of my generals are dead, and the pikmin got out of its enclosure.”

“Dead is an understatement. Their bodies look like they’ve been mostly eaten.”

“I need a cover-up. Pronto. It’s hard removing stains like that from the floor.”

“An experiment went wrong, so the lab is being completely sterilized for a clean slate.”

“Thank you. I was supposed to meet Mac at my training arena fifteen minutes ago, and now I have this to deal with.”

“Is the pikmin at least secured now?”

“Yes. It’s in the basement, currently. Completely surrounded by stones. Escape is unlikely, but stay on your guard.”

“I’ll let the others know that the laboratory is being sterilized, you go to your appointment.”

“Thank you. Truly, I’m lucky to have someone like you on my side.”

“Ah-- don’t mention it. Villains have to stick together in times like this. Strength in numbers, honor among thieves, all that.”

“I should be off.”

The two give each other a curt nod and Dracula scrambles to the arena.

He bursts through the doors and only stops to catch his breath once he reaches Mac.

“Woah, woah, Bats,” Mac worries, “Calm down, shit happens.”

Dracula eventually stands up straight and heaves a sigh of relief. “Alright, so what are we doing?”

“I was occupying my time by shadowboxing, but I’m interested in pad work.”

“Alright, I can do that.”

Dracula grabs the two training pads and tries to keep up a rhythm or combination for Mac to keep up with. 

There’s an odd feeling creeping up his spine, and he tries to ignore it like everything else. Suddenly, it feels like he’s the one falling behind and Mac’s movements are less predictable.

Then it feels like something is gnawing at the back of his mind that’s too hard to ignore.

He feels the urge to look away and avoid Mac’s focused gaze that would stare into Dracula’s soul if he had one. However, the moment he looks away, he’d end up punched in the face. Truly a lose:lose situation.

A weight on his shoulders grows heavier and heavier over time.

The moment Dracula looks at the ground, he’s unintentionally punched in the head. The suddenness sends him to the floor.

Being struck in the head-- one of his only weaknesses.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry!” Mac apologizes, frantic. He runs over to his sports bag and applies a cold compress to Dracula’s forehead when he returns. “I didn’t mean to hit ya.”

“I know. I know,” Dracula groans, still holding his head in his hands. “I lost focus.”

Mac then sits on the floor next to him. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You sure?”

“I think I just didn’t sleep very well. That’s all.”

“Makes sense.”

“I should’ve been better.”

“We all have our off days, Bats. How about you rest up for now?”

“Fine. Only so you don’t worry.”

Dracula struggles to his feet and trudges towards his room. Once there, he lies on his back and stares up at the ceiling. 

Everything hurts, physically and emotionally. 

All he can feel is this sense of impending doom.

Chapter Text

Mac stretches and starts towards his room to take a shower after yet another long day of training. 

Looking back on the day’s events, he starts to consider that he’s getting better at boxing with all this new training material.

In the corner of his eye, he spots a bit of green. He pauses in place and looks at it. A leaf? Here?

He bends down on one knee and starts to stare at it, wondering what he should do with it. Perhaps he should tell someone. But what would happen if he just happened to pull on the leaf?

He reaches out to touch it, and he hesitates mere inches from it.

What could go wrong by plucking one little leaf? It’d be something to show Dracula as proof.

Once he grabs onto it, he feels something stab through his hand, and he shouts out in pain, pulling on the leaf.

Only for it to somehow grow back once it’s gone. 

He bolts towards the library, grabbing onto his hand like his life depends on it. Then more leaves. They’re everywhere.

One cuts into his legs, and he starts to panic.

He can’t afford to die like this.

He finally screams out, terrified, “BATS?! DRACULA? VLAD! HELP ME!”

As if on cue, Dracula bursts from his study and uses his control over the castle to send the mysterious leaves back where they were. He circles the young boxer, looking at his wounds.

He promptly hurries Mac into the hospital wing and makes him lie down.

“Bats, speak to me, what’s going on--?” Mac frantically asks, only to be strapped down.

“Calm down. This will only hurt for a moment,” Dracula injects a needle into Mac’s arm and inserts an IV. After adding the liquid morphine, he steps back. “Give it a minute… it’ll stop hurting soon.”

Mac promptly relaxes more than he has in his entire life. Now that his patient is calm, he bandages up the wounds.

Mac asks, dazed, “What’s going to happen to me?”

“You’re going to be under surveillance for a while. In the meantime, you will be dealing with a variety of side effects from the different medicines I will be giving you. Unfortunately, something went wrong in the laboratory and you were an unfortunate victim,” Dracula calmly explains, “What matters the most right now is that you remain calm. The days will likely move by like a blur, and the others will have limited contact with you.”

“Okay.”

“I’m glad we came to an agreement. Be aware that this is all highly experimental and has the potential to kill you. Understood?”

“I’m fine with that. Then I’ll get to see Doc again.”

“Very well. I recommend you make peace with your God and secure a good place in the afterlife.”

“Thanks for trying to save me.”

“I’m doing the best I can.”

Dracula takes the first sample from the freezer. A cocktail of different antifungals, antiparasitics, and antivirals. After drawing it into a syringe, he injects the first combination into his arm. This will be tested for 14 days to see if there is any effect.

This is all highly unethical testing, but there’s more to gain from testing on Mac.

Perhaps, one of these will work, and for once, someone can be saved.

Maybe.

Maybe, for once, he’ll get a good result.

Maybe he’ll finally find a way to fix this.

But perhaps Dracula is getting his hopes up too early.

Only time will tell.

Chapter Text

Day 14

It has been the first phase of human testing. The patient does not seem to be improving as I’d hoped. The combination used this time is Clotrimazole, Albendazole, and 5-substituted 2′-deoxyuridine analogues. As expected, the side effects have been glaringly obvious. The patient has been complaining of incessant itching and nausea. Naturally, this results in distress that only makes the infection worse. I will stop all production of this specific cocktail, as it only seems to worsen the patient’s condition.

Day 28

This combination is Econazole, Albendazole Oxide, and Nucleoside analogues. The results do not seem to be improving nor worsening. The only exception is that it isn’t causing the same distressing symptoms as the previous attempt. The only problem is that it doesn’t seem to be clearing up any of the symptoms we’re seeing in typical infected. This infected is particularly stubborn, but at least a human patient is a more stable testing environment than my previous cultures and the like.

Day 42

These two weeks have been uneventful, though the gaunt look on Mac’s face is disconcerting. I do fear that if I resume this process, it will eventually kill him. Although under normal conditions, I would be willing to take that risk. I’m not too sure if I’m willing to risk this young man’s life for the sake of progress. This is all under the assumption that this is even solving anything. Any result is still a result, though. Failure is always an option. The combination this round was Miconazole, Allopurinol Riboside, and Pyrophosphate analogues. 

Day 56

It has almost been 2 months since the beginning of this process. He’s slowly withering away as we speak. I hate that I’m using this young life as a lab rat, and I can only justify it to myself by saying it’s for the sake of progress and solving this problem. I don’t know if this will even be worth it in the end. Does any of this matter? Would it be more ethical to just kill him right here and now? The horrible concoction this time is Terbinafine, Amodiaquine, and NRTIs. 

Day 70

This is the two month mark. The trials have not been succeeding like I hoped. All I see when I look at Mac is a person begging for death. I’m going to speak with him tomorrow to see if he would like me to end his suffering sooner or resume the trials. I hate seeing him in so much pain, it feels like I’m human all over again. All of that pain and no desirable results to speak of. Just a sad, dying young man. And I know it’s my fault he’s in so much pain. The only solace I can see in it is that the infection isn’t getting any better or worse. Whatever these cocktails are doing are keeping it at bay at the very least. Fluconazole, Amphotericin B, and NNRTIs were used during this trial period.

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Dracula finally shuts his journal and looks over at Mac. He feels overwhelmed by his decisions. 

He needs to speak to the only other person here who understands the gravity of his choices before consulting Mac on what he’d like to do next.

After ensuring Mac will be tended to in the meantime, Dracula leaves the medical wing to look for Ganondorf.

Chapter Text

Finally, Dracula reaches Ganondorf’s room and knocks on the door. He notices the sound of heavy breathing and knocks on the door louder.

He hears clumsy stumbling and quiet cussing until Ganondorf frantically opens the door, with his hair messed up. The voe leans against the doorframe and pushes his hair back in an attempt at acting casual. His face is flushed, and his clothes are disheveled.

“Am I interrupting something?” Dracula raises an eyebrow, leaning forward a bit.

Ganondorf hesitates, “No. No, it was just light exercise.”

“I think I’m better off if I don’t ask you to elaborate. In any case, I need to speak with you.”

“Alright.” Ganondorf steps aside, and Dracula enters the room.

“Lock the door.”

“How forward of you.”

“This is an important matter, Dragmire.”

“Sorry.”

Ganondorf shuts the door, locks it, and sits in his desk chair after turning it to face Dracula.

The vampire paces and takes the time to bring Ganondorf up to speed on how the experiment has been going.

“So, that brings us to this conversation,” Dracula finishes.

“Okay,” Ganondorf acknowledges everything he just heard. “Not ideal. Obviously, you feel guilty about it. Correct?”

“Yes. I don’t know what I should do next. I want to ask Mac if he wants to finally end his life or keep it going.”

“If that’s what you feel is best, then you do that. From what I’m hearing, prolonging his suffering isn’t even garnering the results we need to stop the infection.”

“Yes. My opinion is, we need to find and remove the Pikmin before it can hurt or kill someone else.”

“That’s definitely for the best. I already told everyone else that if they see a leaf, do not touch it and go the way they came if possible.”

“Good.”

“Are you feeling any better?”

“A little. I still feel guilty, though.”

“I understand. Do what you will. I’m trusting that whatever you decide, it’s for the good of everyone here.”

Dracula nods and quickly takes a moment to hug Ganondorf before leaving to return to the medical wing. Just before he reaches the medical wing, he takes another batch of the newest concoction and finally enters the room Mac is being experimented on.

Upon entry, he kneels next to the hospital bed and draws the mix into a syringe.

Mac pathetically looks over and turns his arm over expectantly.

Chapter Text

Dracula then attempts to make conversation while injecting the latest batch. “There’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Alright,” Mac weakly replies.

“I’m seeing how miserable you have been during the experiment. You’ve practically wasted away from all the side effects.”

“Heh, I’ve been hit harder than that.”

Dracula’s ears drop, and Mac looks away, as if upset that the joke didn’t land.

The air feels especially heavy.

After what feels like an eternity, Dracula finishes injecting the medication and moves a chair so he can sit next to the hospital bed.

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. So, instead, he shuts his mouth and looks at the state his patient is in.

His face is gaunt, his hair is thinning, and his muscles are degrading as the months pass by. The light in his eyes is completely gone.

I have ruined this poor young man’s life. I promised to protect him, and this is what I do. I seem to only kill the things I want to keep safe.

I kill everything I touch.

Dracula finally takes a deep breath and tries to keep his voice level. “I brought it up because… I can see that if the infection isn’t trying to spread, the medicine I’m trying to treat it with is certainly trying to kill you.”

“Yeah,” Mac agrees, “Feels like I could pass any minute.”

“Which brings me to my question. Since you’re in such a horrible state, would you be willing to go through with doctor-assisted suicide? This would be solely to end the suffering I’ve been putting you through.”

“I need to think about it. I know you’ve only been trying to help.”

“Alright. I’ll be checking in later, so you have time to think about whether you want to keep going, or if you want me to end your suffering.”

The two nod at each other, and Mac resumes looking through his books on boxing.

Dracula slowly shakes his head and leaves the room with someone there to keep watch and guard the door.

Then, he goes to his study and sits at his desk.

He repeatedly flips through the journal, looking back on his lack of progress. Only failing. Only making Mac’s condition worse. Not even knowing if the medicine itself is slowing the infection’s progress or if constantly keeping the poor kid on morphine has been keeping him so calm, it doesn’t have much to work with.

The only feeling there is this overwhelming sense of failure.

Months have flown by in a blur, and still, nothing.

Perhaps this was doomed from the start.

Perhaps this illness truly is beyond modern science. Nothing he has done has helped. An infected Pikmin is scampering around the castle like a pest, and the only proof Dracula has that it’s still alive is that the vermin is killing his rats and Medusa heads to survive.

This is my fault. I was too confident that the terrarium would hold, and I’m paying the price for it.

Minutes turn to hours.

Hours spent staring at journals, records, and sightings. This seems only to be getting worse.

And there is nothing he can do about it.

Everything is falling apart.

Everything is falling apart.

All of the strength of the world.

All of the knowledge Chaos had to offer.

It seems to really be true; all of the effort Dracula had been putting into trying to cure this infection has really been for nothing.

Months of work, wasted.

People are suffering in his lab.

For science.

For the sake of progressing medicine.

It was all for nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing echoes in Dracula's head. It infests his conscience, and that feeling of guilt only grows like a well-treated plant.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

All of it.

Is there really nothing that can be done? Who am I if I can't solve something like this? Am I that useless? I have managed to ruin so many people in my time here when I only wanted to solve this problem. I went in over my head, I bit off more than I could chew.

If Mac dies today, it's going to be my fault.

I would be the one to take the blame for his death.

I prolonged his suffering for a fruitless effort.

Mankind ill needs a savior such as I.

It feels like I'm spiraling.

Like I'm drowning.

And I'm too proud to ask for help.

That’s when Dracula is pulled from his studying by the sound of frantic running and loud knocking.

Dracula scrambles out of his chair and towards the door to his study. When he opens the door, he's greeted by Death, who starts rambling indistinctly.

Out of frustration, Dracula smacks Death clean across the face, which gets the spirit's attention.

"Calm down!" He snaps.

"Sir, it's urgent. An emergency!" Death clarifies.

“What?!” He shouts, “What’s going on out there?!”

“It’s Mac!” Death shouts. “He’s crashing!”

Dracula bursts from the room and runs directly to the medical wing. There’s no time to lose; any moment wasted is time that could be used to save him.

Chapter Text

Dracula breaks the door off its hinges in his moment of panic and scrambles to Mac’s side. He isn’t even entirely sure what’s happening; the most likely cause is the mix of Ketoconazole, Amprolium, and Protease inhibitors. All of their side effects this time were enough to potentially kill him.

He checks for a pulse-- it’s there, but abnormally quick. Mac suddenly jolts to life and starts to cough. Thinking quickly, Dracula moves Mac onto his left side. He soon coughs up pink, foamy mucus.

No, no, it’s what I was afraid of. Heart failure?! Now of all times!

The abdomen has been swelling, which should’ve been a sign earlier. Dracula rolls Mac onto his back once he’s done coughing, just in case.

He takes a second to check Mac’s blood pressure-- it isn’t long before it’s dangerously high.

For now, the goal is to get him as stable as possible.

“Defibrillators!” he shouts at the nearest employee. “Now!”

The room’s guard quickly retrieves the defibrillators. 

“These are the?!” Dracula snaps, but quickly calms down, “This is the AED, but right now I can make this work. Go find the actual defibrillators. Now. I’ll try to keep him alive.”

Dracula methodically, though quickly, applies them to the right infraclavicular area and the left mid-axillary line. As soon as the pads are attached to the defibrillator, he is left with a moment of terror, as the AED analyzes the rhythm, taking care not to lay a finger on the patient. 

Shock advised. Just as he predicted. He makes sure to stay aware while it charges. Once the shock is administered, he resumes attempting CPR. 

The lesser vampire does eventually return with the manual defibrillators. After the pads are removed, the manual defibrillators are charged up, the bed and patient are cleared, and after a few seconds, another shock is administered.

Still, nothing.

It feels like there’s no use. Nothing is stabilizing him, try as he might, and Dracula knows Mac is fighting to stay alive.

But it was all in vain.

Little Mac.

Fighter

Age: 17
Fighter Number: 49

Height: 170.18 cm
Date: 6th day before Ides, August, 2025

Cause of Death: Sudden Onset Heart Failure.

Dracula covers the patient and has him sent to the morgue. Unlike the others, he will be cremated to ensure that the infection can’t spread.

Even when his surroundings are clean, and no evidence of Mac even being here, Dracula can’t help but stare at the hospital bed.

His focus turns to the morphine, and he recalls how much Mac was relying on it.

He crashes back down to reality and truly realizes that a patient of his died while under his care. He died, and it’s all Dracula’s fault. 

Dracula carried out these experiments.

Dracula didn’t stop him from abusing the button that would administer more morphine.

Dracula injected the medicines that made Mac so miserable.

Mac is dead now, and Dracula has nobody to blame but himself.

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

Sumire hesitantly enters a hallway before Ren can. After deciding it’s safe, she gestures for Ren to follow, and they casually continue on their way to the garden.

“Do you ever wonder if these hallways move or change when we’re sleeping?” Sumire asks, folding her arms.

“No?” Ren replies. “I always just assumed they change every now and then based on Dracula’s whims.”

“So you mean to say he just casually has control over this place?”

“Yes. Did you already forget what happened last week? In the kitchen. “Now that you mention it, rice cookers don’t just show up by themselves.”

“Exactly. If you asked him, he’d definitely confirm he can control the castle.”

“You’re right.”

Sumire then stops when she notices a particularly nice-looking house plant. She gets a little closer to it out of curiosity and tries to get in close to see if it’s real or fake.

A butterfly briefly forms over Ren’s eyes, and he promptly stumbles back. Without thinking, he pulls Sumire backwards just before the flower attacks.

Ren promptly puts her into a bridal carry and breaks into a run the way they came.

Soon, more flowers sprout up and follow the three. Morgana is looking back, holding onto Ren’s bag as tightly as his claws will let him.

“Should we split up?!” Sumi shrieks, holding on as tightly as she can.

“Have you gone mad?!” Morgana shouts, “We aren’t splitting up!”

Ren adds, “We need to find Dracula, now!”

“Okay!” Sumi then leaps out of Ren’s arms and lands squarely on her feet. “I’ll go on ahead and look for him.”

“We’ll be on your heels! Be safe!”

“On it, Joker!”

Without thinking, Ren tosses Morgana ahead, too, who runs to Sumi to keep her company.

Ren turns and starts firing at and casting spells on the flowers to try and drive them back. “Lucifer! Blazing Hell!”

They aren’t too effective, though.

But that can’t be right. Unless it could be that pikmin we haven’t heard from in months. What color was it again? Right, blue. WAIT.

But don’t blue pikmin die when they touch fire? Wait, but I’m not operating on Pikmin logic. This is Persona logic- that means my fire spells aren’t doing anything!

As a Hail Mary, he jumps past a tentacle and switches personas again.

“Jack Frost!” he shouts, “Ice Age!”

By some miracle, the flowers are frozen in place. But, only for so long. With the time he bought himself, Ren runs away to catch up with Sumire and Morgana.

Finally, the three reach the medical wing and enter the room they know Mac was recovering in.

“Drac!” Ren shouts, catching Dracula off guard.

“What? What’s wrong?” Dracula asks.

Sumire steps forward and admits, “I got too close to a flower, and it was trying to stab us!”

“Shit, shit, shit… Okay, okay, I can get this under control. Where is Orb right now?”

The conversation is interrupted when a flower sprouts up from the ground and tries to go directly for Ren.

However, Sumire pulls him out of the way, taking the full damage caused by the tentacle. She is stabbed mere inches from her lungs. Dracula quickly pulls the pikmin from the stones and quickly leaves the castle.

As the vampire leaves, Sumire falls onto her knees, trembling from shock. Then, she hits the ground on her side.

Thinking quickly, Ren roots through what’s left of his inventory while also holding onto Sumire’s injury. She quickly falls unconscious. 

Morgana paces, not knowing what to do, until the thought comes to him. He looks at the two and proclaims, “Mercurius! Diarama!”

The spell promptly stops the bleeding, however, it’s not enough to stop the full extent of the damage done to Sumire.

With the bleeding stopped, Ren gets her into the nearby hospital bed so Dracula can take a better look and treat the damage.

After all, that was the last of Morgana’s SP for the time being. It had been a while since any of them got the chance to restore their health or SP.

In a meager attempt at restoring it, Morgana curls up next to Sumire and falls asleep.

Chapter Text

Dracula sends Orb so far away that there is little to no chance he’ll ever return. When he finally gets back to the group, he immediately gets to work tending to Sumire. 

First, blood pressure. Certainly seems normal.

Now, X-Rays.

Sumire’s hospital bed is rolled away, towards the X-Ray machine. It takes a few moments, but he does eventually get a good image of the affected area. Her lower left ribs are shattered from the impact, and the surrounding organs are quite obviously dealing with the consequences of having bone fragments in them.

Dracula rushes to Ren and Morgana to break the news to them.

“Okay, okay,” Dracula starts. “Her ribs are shattered; it’s a miracle she’s alive right now. The bone fragments are in some of her vital organs, and she will need surgery to remove them.”

“Whatever saves our friend,” Ren pleads. He’s still visibly shaken.

“In the meantime, I recommend doing whatever it takes to calm down. You’re very clearly shaken up.”

“Okay-- I just… I don’t know.”

“Listen to me. Go to the garden. Help Haru in the garden. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

When Ren and Morgana leave, Dracula turns his focus to Sumire. She places her under anesthesia and into the surgical theater. He trusts a few succubi to prepare her for surgery, and when he returns, the sterile drapes are in place. The three scrub in, and Dracula makes his first incisions.

After a few choice cuts, he reaches where the ribs usually would’ve been, and he carefully removes what’s left of the lower ribs attached to her ribcage.

Then he starts extracting the fragmented bones.

Bones are generally difficult to break.

This includes ribs.

A broken rib is especially dangerous if the break is in the wrong place. One wrong move will inevitably lead to the rib piercing a vital organ.

I’m not sure if I can repair these damaged organs, but I’m still going to do the best I can.

With a shocking amount of speed and precision, he starts to stitch or cauterize the holes the fragments caused closed.

When the procedure is done, he closes up the incisions he made and bandages her up. Then he leaves the succubi to change her into a hospital gown among the other post-surgical tasks he, as a grown man, cannot in good conscience do to a 15-year-old girl.

He cannot have another event like 1792.

He’d sooner kill himself.

The embarrassment from back then is bad enough as is.

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

Sumire finally wakes up. She looks around and notices Ren, Leaf, Haru, Ann, and Morgana asleep nearby.

She reaches out a bit and notices an IV in her hand.

Morgana is the first to wake up. He looks up at Sumire and smiles.

“Hey,” he whispers, “You made it.”

Sumi heaves a heavy sigh, but her breath hitches. “I… Thank goodness for that. But… Why does my side hurt?”

“Right… Dracula did tell me about that. You broke your lower left ribs in that attack, and he had to remove what was left of them. So basically, it’s going to hurt a lot. That’s what this button is for.”

Sumire looks at the button. “So, what does it do?”

“He said when you push it, morphine is injected into your system and makes the pain go away for a while. He said to only push it if you think you need it.”

“Alright.”

Soon, the rest of the group wake up to a knock on the door.

Morgana chirps, “Come in,” with the hope that things are getting better.

Dracula enters the room, followed by Ganondorf, who shuts the door behind him. Then he leans against the wall.

“You’re awake,” Dracula notes, “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’ve definitely felt better, but I’m not in a lot of pain right now,” Sumi answers.

“Good. Good. This lesser vampire here will be checking in on you frequently during your recovery.”

“Thank you. I don’t think I could ever repay you.”

“I appreciate the sentiment.”

There is a long period of silence.

Then Ann finally asks, “Wait. Where’s Mac?”

“That,” Dracula sighs, “was going to be the next thing I brought up.”

“What do you mean?” Leaf asks.

“Well… I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with all of you.”

“Meaning,” Ren accuses, “You lied to us.”

“Ganondorf and I both did. Please allow me to explain ourselves and then make your judgments from there.”

The group nods in agreement and looks at the two expectantly.

“Now,” Dracula explains, “The day Mac was attacked and sent to the medical wing, Orb had escaped from the enclosure. That morning, Ganondorf and I had found the glass shattered and Orb’s guards dead. He and I had decided it was safer to cover it up as best we could to avoid a mass panic.”

“So, what happened is that Mac got infected and spent two months going through treatments for the sake of science,” Ganondorf adds.

“He died earlier today from cardiac arrest. I did everything I could to save him, but I was too late. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to all of you and for not being able to save Mac sooner. I took a risk, and two people have paid the price for my arrogance. I understand if I broke your trust, and if you never manage to forgive me for this. I was genuinely acting for the benefit of all of you and never meant for any of this to happen.”

Dracula’s words hang heavy in the air. The remaining Phantoms look among each other, and the survivors take a few minutes to talk among themselves.

Ren then nods at the survivors and walks up to Dracula.

“We took a bit to make our decision,” Ren decides.

“Alright,” Dracula acknowledges. “What is the decision?”

“On behalf of the remaining survivors here, I accept your apology.”

“I see.”

“Forgiveness will take time, but we understand you only lied to us because you wanted to keep us safe. That doesn’t make it okay, and it’s clear you understand that.”

“Yes. I appreciate your understanding. In a scenario like this, sometimes my hands are tied and there’s no real good option, no matter how you slice it. Luckily, Orb is so far away now that he shouldn’t be a hazard again.”

“I get that. What matters most to me is that you only meant to help.”

Dracula and Ganondorf then nod and excuse themselves from the room to attend to other matters.

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

The laboratory has been cleaned since Orb’s escape. The two just stand there thinking about their next move.

“What did you want to talk about?” Ganondorf asks, noting the concentration written across Dracula’s face.

“I need to figure out what to do from here. My studies have been fruitless. Usually, I’d be happy with any result, but” Dracula trails off, looking outside.

“It’s just that failure is the one option we don’t want, and nothing else seems to be working.”

“Exactly. I want to end the experiments here and now, but if I do? I might still feel like a failure.”

“If you want MY two rupees on the matter, I think we should prioritize keeping the survivors we have alive. The experiments are quite obviously a risk to their lives.”

Dracula takes a moment to think through his options. He looks at Ganondorf and finally decides, “I’m ending these experiments before they can hurt anyone else.”

Ganondorf nods and helps Dracula clear the laboratory for the safety of everyone else there.

By the time the area is completely sterilized, it’s practically pitch black out. Dracula looks over at Ganondorf, only to find he’s fallen asleep at a desk.

After looking around, he drapes the voe in a blanket and shifts into a wolf.

Then he curls up on the floor nearby and falls asleep, too.

It isn’t long before Ganondorf moves onto the floor and uses Dracula as a particularly soft pillow.

Chapter Text

As the days drag on, Sumire seems to be recovering fairly well.

However, that doesn’t stop Dracula from constantly worrying about something going wrong.

He has been going as far as to keep everything up-to-date and secure to prevent an accidental death.

“Dracula?” Sumire asks.

“Hm?” He looks over after checking to make sure the electrical components are working as intended. “Did you need something?”

“Is this all necessary?”

“After accidentally killing Mac with the medicine and possibly a morphine overdose?” He pauses in case Sumire has an answer. “Yes.”

“Fair enough. I just don’t want you to exhaust yourself.”

“I appreciate the concern.”

Dracula then turns his attention to giving Sumire a proper post-op check.

Temperature. Average.

Heart Rate. Slightly above average, though understandable. It is entirely possible she’s just anxious. I imagine hospitals aren’t the most pleasant place for her.

Blood Pressure. Higher than usual, but still understandable. It isn’t so high that it’s worrying. Will be asking Morgana to visit her more to see if that helps her blood pressure before it gets any worse.

Respiration Rate. Slightly higher. Ties into the higher HR and BP. She’s clearly anxious. I don’t blame her.

O2 stats. Unchanged. Good.

UOP? Average.

Dracula then looks over at Sumire. “Do you have any concerns or complaints?”

“Well,” she starts, “My left side still aches a bit. If I touch around the incision, it feels very tender.”

“Yes, I can see that being an issue. Unfortunately, when a bone is broken, the area around it tends to feel tender to the touch. I recommend not touching it a whole lot.”

“Okay. I don’t feel sick or anything, at least.”

“Good. Good. Next, let’s see if you’re able to stand.”

With some help, Sumire does manage to stand up without much support. She manages to walk around, too. There’s some glimmer of hope, at least.

“Great,” Dracula smiles, “That means a post-op physical is easier.”

The next hour or so is spent going through a very focused physical.

Finally, the check-in is complete, and Sumire lies back down in her hospital bed.

He makes his way out of the medical wing and makes a beeline for Ren’s room. 

After knocking a few times, Ren lets him in, and Dracula leans against the wall next to the door.

Ren asks, “Is Sumi okay?” He fiddles with one of the buttons on his coat.

“Sumire is alright,” Dracula then folds his arms, “However, there is a concern.”

“Is it an emergency?”

“Thankfully, no. Not yet, at least. Her blood pressure and heart rate are slightly higher than they should be. Which brings me here. I have a favor to ask Morgana.”

Morgana immediately looks up from the ball of yarn he was tangled up in. “Huh?” Then he scrambles out of the tangle and stands up straight. “You need something from me, of all people?”

“Shocking, I know. Now, I know you keep denying you’re a cat. However, the easiest way to lower someone’s blood pressure without medication is petting a cat.”

“So what are you asking?”

“Please check in on Sumi a few times a day. Maybe cuddle up a bit or nap on her if you’d like. It should help her through recovery.”

“Can do, but I’m still not going to say I’m a cat.”

“You don’t have to admit it, just do the thing I asked you to do.”

Morgana then nods, picks up the yarn ball, and runs away towards the medical wing.

The thought then comes to mind, Where did he even get that? I keep my supplies hidden. Then Dracula looks at Ren accusingly.

Ren simply folds his arms and whistles in an attempt to feign innocence.

“Don’t do that again, please. If Morgana eats that, he could choke on it,” Dracula finally monotones before leaving him be.

Chapter Text

Morgana finally makes it to Sumire’s recovery room and meows a few times upon approach. However, his meows are stifled by the yarn ball he’s carrying in his mouth.

He jumps up onto her bed and starts to toy with the yarn. 

Sumi smiles and starts to carefully stroke his fur.

She looks back on what’s been happening thus far. All of the destruction and death around her. All avoided up here with a surprisingly generous host. A host that has been working tirelessly to keep them safe and alive. While not always successful, what matters is that he’s managed to keep her and 6 other people alive. It’s August now. If this continues now that the experiments are over, maybe they could survive this infection after all.

She hasn’t been this lucky to be alive since the year she met the other Phantom Thieves.

She only wishes her sister were here to see this. But, perhaps her sister is watching over her, still trying to help her and keep her safe from harm.

She takes her hair out of its ponytail and holds her sister’s old hair tie in the palm of her hand.

Well, this is a haunted castle. Owned by a vampire. And I’m aware of an alternate reality in our minds. Ghosts such as the shugorei aren’t entirely out of the question.

What are the odds that Kasumi really is here in this castle with me?

Maybe next time Dracula checks on me, I can ask about it.

Then she snaps out of her apparent stupor and looks at Morgana, who had fallen asleep on her in the meantime. He’s all tangled up in yarn all over again.

She lies back and stares off into space, listening to Morgana’s loud purring. Her thoughts turn to whether she’ll be able to do gymnastics again once she’s able to get out of bed and return to daily activities.

Whether she’d really be able to move forward with what she loves doing after such an invasive surgery.

The dread that all of the work she put in could all be for nothing.

Yeah, other sports women have been able to have great careers after invasive surgeries. It isn’t unheard of. But this is her ribs she’s talking about. The g-forces involved with gymnastics could be too much for her now.

She covers her face with her hands and heaves a heavy sigh.

She might have no choice but to give up the one thing that has defined her for her entire life.

Kasumi’s sacrifice.

Her therapy.

The lessons she learned in the Metaverse.

All of the time she spent with Ren and the others.

All wasted.

All for nothing.

What did she do to deserve it?

With that dread truly seeping in, she breaks down into tears.

Morgana stirs from the sudden movements, and he looks over at Sumire. His ears flatten a little, and he tries to think of how to help her.

When he tries to step forward, he spooks himself and flails until he hits the ground. Then he starts zooming around the room.

This does at least get Sumire’s attention and confuses her enough where the crying is starting to stop. 

He comes to a halt when he hears Sumire’s crying eventually replaced with laughter. He smiles and turns to her, embarrassed and scratching his ear.

“At least you seem to be feeling better,” Morgana sighs.

“Yeah…” Sumire takes a deep breath. “But aren’t you concerned about all this yarn?”

“Nah. It’s yarn, what could possibly cause it to catch fire?”

“You’re always so sure that nothing will go wrong.”

“Relax, the only fire I see is your burning passion for gymnastics.”

Then, the very next movement, Morgana accidentally closes some vents by tugging on the yarn. He isn’t even sure how he managed to get yarn up there, but he manages to untangle himself, knocking over a few canisters in the process.

He checks to see if anything is broken and shrugs it off. As if assuming they’re intact, just toppled over. 

“I’ll be right back,” Morgana exasperates, “I need to find either Dracula, Ren, or Ganondorf to get the yarn down and open the vents.”

Before Sumire can protest, Morgana speeds away.

Chapter Text

The door suddenly slams, leaving her alone. She tries to stand up on her own to open the vents herself, but everything hurts. She keeps trying to at least get out of bed, but all the tubes and wires are in the way.

The plug keeping her infusion IV powered starts to come undone slowly but surely. Some of the yarn is also accidentally pulled on, keeping it dangerously close to the power outlet. 

She starts to wonder if the smell of chlorine is from the cleaning agents Dracula uses, or if those canisters were truly safe to begin with. 

Sumire finally manages to stand up and tries to reach towards the vents as best she can.

When Morgana finally does return, he realizes the door is jammed. He only went on ahead without Ren to make sure everything was okay.

He starts to meow loudly and scratch at the door.

Then there’s the stench of chlorine from the door. It’s leaking into the hall.

He manages to grab onto the doorknob and starts trying to finagle the door open in the hope he’d be able to save her.

“No, no, no, no, NO!” Morgana cries out.

When Ren finally catches up, he notices the door is jammed. He quickly tosses Morgana away from the chlorine and tucks his nose and mouth underneath his shirt.

Sumire tries crying out for help, only to inhale the gas, and she starts to cough uncontrollably. She sits on the floor, clutching her side. 

She lies on her right side in some vain attempt at trying to ease her pain.

Ren roots through his inventory again and grabs his last lockpick.

The panic is making the process difficult, though. 

He isn’t even sure how long he really has before Sumire is as good as dead.

While picking the lock, he starts to kick at the door.

Trying to break it, unlock it, something, anything.

That’s when the door suddenly gives way and triggers a chain reaction, resulting in a spark from the power outlet.

Ren notices the apparent danger and ducks out of the way barely before the fire can start and the canisters can explode.

The sudden shockwave causes him to hit his head.

Before he goes unconscious, he shouts for backup and is soon out cold.

Ann is the first to answer his cry for help and sees the fire. She looks at Morgana. “Mona!” She shouts, “Get Dracula! NOW! It’s another emergency!”

“On it!” Morgana calls back, racing towards the library.

Ann first drags Ren to safety, then runs back towards the room after leaving her coat behind.

She hesitates for a moment when she finds the blaze eating at the hallway.

She’s only resistant to fire. It isn’t like she’s immune. 

But if Sumire is by some miracle alive, she needs to risk it.

Without another moment of hesitation, she runs into the hospital room.

Sumire isn’t in her bed! Where is she?!

She frantically looks around and finds Sumire on the ground. She doesn’t even know if the poor girl is alive or not.

Regardless, she picks Sumi up to the best of her ability and runs out of the fire. Wincing from the pain and fire damage.

Sumire is laid down near Ren, and Ann notices Dracula racing past to combat the fire.

That’s when, out of nowhere, Dracula sends several aquatic monsters to help control the blaze.

Then he has sprinklers emerge from the ceiling.

The two forces combined eventually stop the fire, and the sprinklers are soon added around the rest of the castle.

Dracula finally goes over to the three, visibly worried. He asks, almost trembling, “Sumire… Is she breathing?”

Ann puts her ear close enough to hear her breathing. “Yes. Not a lot, though.”

Dracula then checks for a pulse. “You’re right. She’s barely alive.”

Ren finally regains consciousness and realizes the fire has been stopped. He looks at Sumi and becomes incredibly worried. “Sumi…”

“She’s alive,” Dracula monotones. “Barely, but she’s alive.”

Sumire finally opens her eyes and removes one of her hands from the inside of her coat. She holds it out towards Ren, who holds it tight. He notices something is placed in his hand-- Kasumi’s hair tie. By some miracle, it’s unscathed.

Her eyes are hazy and staring off into nothingness.

“Sumire,” Dracula pleads, “Please, speak to us.”

Sumire, strangely, lets out a smoky laugh. As if none of this is bothering her. She reaches out to the heavens. “Hah… I guess I’ll be off to gymnastics…”

“What…?”

“Kasumi… will you help me this time?”

With her final words uttered, her body goes limp. Completely lifeless.

Chapter Text

Dracula stares in disbelief.

He wasn’t careful enough. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve seen this coming from a mile away. It’s barely been a week. He should’ve been better. He should’ve known better.

He can barely speak.

He looks over at the remaining thieves and notes how devastated they are.

He wants to apologize.

I should’ve done more.

His words get caught in his throat. Instead of speaking, he chooses to stay nearby at least.

Why didn’t I do anything? I could’ve saved her. Right?

How useless can I be?

Dracula heaves a heavy sigh and picks Sumire up. He turns away and quietly moves her to the morgue. Ren is soon on his heels.

“Hey,” Ren tries to get his attention, “I think we all did the best we could.”

“That isn’t the problem,” Dracula monotones.

“Well, how could any of us know this would happen?”

“I am partly at fault for what happened.”

“Well, Morgana was, too. He said he accidentally closed the vents and knocked over these canisters.”

“You are not responsible for how I, an adult, am feeling. You know that, right?”

“You just looked like you needed someone to talk to.”

Dracula finally sets Sumire’s body in the morgue and looks at Ren. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m more concerned about the rest of you.”

“We’ll be okay. I think. We made it this far thanks to you.”

Dracula nods. “Thank you. I… think I want to be alone for the time being.”

“Well, if you want, I can cook tonight. Just to take that weight off your shoulders.”

“Do what you will. Just don’t destroy my kitchen.”

Without another word, Dracula walks away.

Ren stares on after him, not really willing to make chase or beg him to stay.

I know everyone experiences grief differently, but I don’t think I really expected how Dracula, of all peopl,e would take losing Sumi. I thought he’d be sort of numb to this stuff.

Ren simply returns to Ann, Morgana, and Haru. He holds the three close as best he can, and they reciprocate.

Ann breaks down crying. She hugs tighter and tries to stop, but she can’t. She is the first to break from the hug, and after picking up the coat, runs back to her room in tears.

After letting go, Haru simply nods at Ren and goes to tend to the garden again. At least exist in the garden in hopes of finding some form of solace. Any form of comfort at all at a time like this.

When he realizes he and Morgana are the last ones in the hallway, Ren goes to Ryuji’s old room and sits in his desk chair. 

He whispers to himself. “You should see the state of him. Blaming himself for not knowing that something would happen. I’m sure you would’ve talked sense into him.” Then he laughs to himself. “Well, you’d definitely try.”

Then he remembers how often Dracula keeps tidying up this room, leaving items in here and such. Does he know something I don’t?

There’s a thump on the bookshelf. Then another. Ren looks around it, looking for someone who could possibly be messing with the shelf. Nothing.

Well, it’s a haunted castle. Something’s probably messing with me.

He decides to activate his third eye ability and jumps back with a shout. “GHOST! Ghost?! Ghost. Why am I freaking out about this?! This castle was already haunted. But I didn’t think Ryuji’s room, of all places, would be… haunted.” He stands up and straightens his jacket. “That would actually make sense given how he died.”

Silence.

“Ryuji. Dude, if it’s you, do something only Ryuji would do.” Ren folds his arms.

Morgana is promptly yote from Ren’s bag and onto the floor.

“Yep,” Ren sighs, “That’ll do it. You doing ok?”

A pencil moves on its own, then paper. A very poorly done thumbs up is scribbled on and blown towards Ren. 

“Yeah, he’s fine. Being dead isn’t all that’s cracked up to be, is it?”

The page is moved to turn it upside down.

“Alright. Are you stuck in this room, or can you wander?”

Silence, save for a mere gust of wind.

“So, I’ll probably sense you later.”

Ren awkwardly leaves the room, not sure what to make of this situation. It certainly helps knowing he isn’t completely alone in this. 

But it doesn’t change how much it hurts to lose people you care about.

In hindsight, knowing your friends are still there as ghosts is both existentially horrendous and oddly comforting.

Chapter Text

Finally, Ren finds Ganondorf in the library and heaves a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” he asks, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Ask what you will,” Ganondorf promptly answers, setting a book to the side. He shifts in his chair and looks directly at Ren.

“Well… It’s about Dracula. He was… really beating himself up after Sumire died. I know he didn’t do anything. I was wondering if you had any idea?”

“The first thing I’d like to say is that he… seems to genuinely care about you lot. As in, take a holy weapon to the head for you. I’m not too sure about it myself, if I’m honest.”

“Well, I knew that part. I noticed this sort of spiral into anxiety while we talked, then he stormed off, asking to be left alone. It feels like I said something wrong.”

“Okay. You didn’t say anything wrong. You didn’t do something wrong. Dracula likely feels a hefty responsibility to care for and protect all of you.”

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious.”

“Do you want me to help you figure this out, or not?”

“Sorry.” Ren scratches the back of his head. “Continue.”

“I said that because in my experience working with him, he takes all of his responsibilities incredibly seriously. It’s likely important to him that people living in his castle are safe and well. I can’t exactly tell for sure why. I can certainly theorize on his past experiences, but I don’t think we’ll ever quite get the answer. I’ll talk to him in a bit.”

“Okay. I told him I’d prepare food tonight, and he seemed fine with it.”

“Don’t overthink it. It’s a privilege to be allowed to just use his kitchen and be trusted not to wreck the place. Consider it a compliment.”

“I’ll make sure to save some… he didn’t seem particularly hungry when we spoke.”

“Fair enough. Just… try not to worry about him too much. He’ll probably notice and spiral more.”

Ren simply nods at him, stands, and lightly bows. Then he turns around and leaves the library. He goes directly to the kitchen to look over the ingredients to see if he can even make the curry he’s used to working with.

Not much in the way of standard meat… unless I want to try making curry out of rabbit? Maybe fish? Yeah, fish will work. He probably keeps it in cold storage. Well, unless he has elk?

While elk is a very foreign ingredient to him, Ren decides he can make it work. Surely, it’s the closest he’ll get to beef chunks in this recipe.

Probably not the highest quality ingredient ever, but surely with the right spices, he can still replicate LeBlanc’s curry flawlessly.

Now, the recipe I was taught can be enough to serve roughly four people. There are seven remaining, but portioning the food out for seven is difficult in terms of measurements. I’ll multiply it by two, which makes 8. That’s fine, I can live with leftovers.

After gathering some of the meat from the shoulder, neck, and shank, Ren goes back up to the kitchen.

“Okay. Now… I think usually it’s roughly… five hundred grams of cubed beef? Five hundred multiplied by 2… Morgana, can you get some paper and a writing utensil out of my bag?” Ren starts to ramble, pacing in the kitchen.

Morgana then dives into the bag and pulls out a notebook, then a pen. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. Now, the recipe needs five hundred grams… multiplied by 2? That’s a thousand grams.” Ren sets his materials aside and starts looking for the kitchen scale. “Scale, scale, scale… There it is!”

Ren sets the scale on the counter next to the meat. Then the thought occurs to him that he should prepare the rice first.

He quickly grabs the inner pan of the rice cooker and adds roughly 1500 milliliters of rice. Then he goes to the sink and turns it on, making sure the water is cold-- he adds just enough water to cover the grains. 

In the first round, the water is sent directly into the sink, as it’s too dirty to reuse. The second time, he saves the water for later as it would otherwise go unused. He does this about 3 more times before he finally decides the water is clear enough. The rice is then moved into a colander and placed over a bowl. It’s sent into the fridge to drain.

In the meantime, he washes his hands thoroughly and cubes the meat. 

Dicing four onions, grating 2 carrots instead of just one, a full apple grated, 4 minced garlic cloves, and a 4-centimeter stick of ginger grated.

He goes into the pantry and locates the spice rack. “Plain flour, cumin, coriander, turmeric, cardamom, cinnamon, hot chili powder, nutmeg… it isn’t ground, so I’ll grab a mortar and pestle… same for the cloves… and of course the black pepper isn’t ground up either,” he mutters.

Once he sets the spices on the counter, he realizes he needs access to the wine. That means having to break into the cellar. He grabs a lockpick from his bag, unlocks the door to the cellar, and grabs a younger bottle of red wine for the recipe, as well as elk stock from cold storage, and then he reluctantly goes back to the pantry to fetch some bay leaves. Chocolate, butter, honey, instant coffee, Worcestershire sauce, and yogurt are the last to be added to the pile.

“Okay,” he sighs, having finally gathered the last of the ingredients. “I think I can remember this recipe off the top of my head.”

Fry the flour, add the spices, and wait until fragrant. Good. 

Neutral oil in a pan, fry the elk after seasoning, add wine and water. Leave to simmer.

This is when Ren loses his train of thought and loses track of what he’s doing. Once the curry is in its finishing stages, he takes the rice out of the fridge. 

He puts it back in the rice cooker, adds the 1500 milliliters of water, and starts it up.

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

Ganondorf approaches the door to Dracula’s quarters. It’s open. 

Odd. It’s never open at a time like this.

He figures it’d be rude to just enter the room without knocking. So, he knocks on the door and enters. 

The room is a mess. Papers and books are spread everywhere. Sheets are messed up, bottles of wine are on the vanity, and the decorative mirror is shattered. Treading carefully, he makes his way to the chaise and looks at Dracula.

The vampire pathetically looks up at him and tries to tidy himself up.

Before Dracula can stand up and clean the room, Ganondorf grabs his hands and sits next to him.

Dracula takes a few deep breaths, and once his hands are free, he summons a wine glass for Ganondorf and pours him a drink. He keeps the rest of the bottle for himself. They exchange glances and drink.

“You’ve been blaming yourself a lot, haven’t you?” Ganondorf asks, in some attempt at conversation.

“How can I not?” Dracula exasperates, “All of this control over this castle and this happens. I should’ve been able to stop it. Intellectually, I know that I had no way of knowing this would’ve happened, but…”

“It’s that feeling of responsibility. You feel like a failure, don’t you?”

“Perhaps. I won’t confirm or deny.”

“Fine. Fine.”

“It’s just… I thought if I was thorough enough. If I checked the electricity several times every single day. If I checked the vents regularly enough. If I follow the exact ritual every single day, then nothing bad will happen again. Nobody would be taken away again. Check the outlets, one, two, three, four, five. Do it or these people die. Check the vents. One, two, three, four, five. Do it or the castle catches fire. Check each person. 5 times, every day, or else they’ll die.”

“You realize that isn’t a normal thought process, right?”

“So?”

Ganondorf can’t particularly come up with a good answer, so they drink together in relative silence.

Then he starts to wonder if there’s more to his guilt than just the responsibility he has. They both have that need to protect whoever’s left, and he understands why Dracula is upset to a point. But why? 

By the time they’re three bottles in, Dracula huffs, “You know, the world can be so fucking stupid at times.”

“What do you mean?” Ganondorf asks, uncertain as to where he’s going with this.

“I have loved people and lost people over, and over, and over again. It’s the immortality special, pretty much. It isn’t even the fact that they die!”

“So what is it?”

“It’s HOW they die. It’s always so violent and out of my control, and I hate not having control over what happens. I hate being left behind. I believe I am capable of good, but…”

“You just feel constantly pushed into a corner by circumstances you can’t control.”

“Exactly! At least you get it. People drag my ass out of the grave every hundred years… or five if they’re that greedy… against my will. For what, you may ask? No good reason. They don’t feel desperate for an escape or for power or for the means to accomplish their goals.”

“Oh.”

“It’s the same reason every single time. To watch the world burn, not because it’s what I want. It’s never about what I want. Well, I’m happy to be alive, don’t get me wrong, but all that matters is the people who drag me back and they don’t give a shit about anything else.”

“I just always assumed that when you returned after canon deaths, it was of your own free will. That’s what I do. I come back because I want to.”

“You’re lucky, then. What was that line I said back in 1792?”

“Take your time.”

“Got it. ‘It was not by my hand that I am once again given flesh. I was called here by humans, who wish to pay me tribute.”

“And this happens every single time?”

“Since 1476, pretty much. That’s just my afterlife for you. It’s just, for once, I want any sense of control.”

“I wish I understood that position. Whenever I returned, it was when I was ready. I guess I just want to help take some of that weight off your shoulders.”

“You are probably one of the few people who really seems to understand me.”

“Well, just know that protecting the others and this castle doesn’t have to just be your burden. I want to help you.”

“I don’t know. It’s just, I need these things done just so, or else my brain will not leave me alone about it. So I just end up spiralling all over again and straining under the pressure I deliberately put on myself. Because I just don’t know what’s going to happen. If everyone else is trustworthy, am I even reliable?”

“Dracula.”

“Everything I’ve ever done is probably in vain. I’m not sure why every chance I get, I find people, get attached, and before I know it, they’re violently taken away from me all over again. I’m cursed. I’ve been cursed.”

“Dracula, let’s not be rash here.”

Before he continues his rant, Dracula drinks roughly half of another bottle. “Half the time, I don’t even know why I’m spiraling because what’s insanity to one person is just my daily life! I don’t know the last time my mind was clear. I don’t remember when I last let myself be really vulnerable with someone. All I really know is that I’m a failure, and I’ve always been a failure!”

“You don’t really mean that, though, do you?”

“I don’t know anymore!”

“Maybe you should stop.”

“Why should I stop?! I don’t have much anyway! Why should I stop when nothing has been going my way and all I can do about it is bitch and bemoan?! It’s never about what I want!” Dracula pauses to polish off the bottle and drops it onto the floor. “Maybe, for once in my forsaken afterlife, I don’t want to fucking hurt anymore!”

Ganondorf finally gives up, grabs Dracula by the collar, and kisses him. He shuts his eyes tightly. Just in an attempt at doing something, anything to get him to stop for a minute.

What he’s been doing isn’t helping. When Ganondorf pulls back, Dracula leans onto the raised part of the chaise. He rests his head on his hand. When the voe gets a better look, he notices that Dracula is blushing. Then he notices that Dracula is holding his hand instead of a bottle of wine.

Dracula himself isn’t even sure if it’s the alcohol clouding his judgment, but he starts to wonder, Why did that help? And… how would it feel if? No. No, that’s dumb. I should focus on anything else, and yet?

He starts to stare intently at Ganondorf, noticeably calmer. Then, moving closer and intentionally getting touchier. He flirts, “Thank you… I think I needed something to snap out of it.”

“Well,” the voe admits sheepishly, “I didn’t know what else to do?”

“I appreciate the effort. I… I’m apparently at a loss for words.” Dracula intentionally gets closer, lightly brushing Ganondorf’s arm with his hand.

“You’re just flirting with me, now.” Ganondorf cooes.

“So what if I am?”

Before Ganondorf can respond, Dracula kisses Ganondorf. The two trade places on the chaise, and the vampire manages to pin Ganondorf down.

He pulls back a bit, and the two share a moment of extended eye contact.

It’s then that Ganondorf notices he’s the one lying on his back with Dracula between his legs, as opposed to how he’d ever imagine this sort of hypothetical scenario. However, in practice, he doesn’t mind this either, even if it does conflict with his reputation.

Before Dracula can kiss again, Ganondorf breathes, “Wait… what about the door?”

Dracula pauses and looks around. With his control over the castle, he closes and locks the door. “Happy now?”

“Quite.”

“Now… where were we? … Right.”

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

The very next morning, Ganondorf stirs awake, overwhelmed by nausea. He sits up and tries to gather his bearings. The room is bigger than his own… things are still broken, and there’s the smell of alcohol. He starts to wonder how much he had to drink.

When he looks at the broken mirror on the vanity, he notices his reflection in the remaining pieces in the frame.

What are those, bruises…? They hurt to the touch, so yes. What did I do last night?

He lightly glances to the side and realizes he isn’t in his room. He isn’t in his bed. This is Dracula’s bed.

The final clue is when he moves to get out of bed. Embarrassed, he hastily gets dressed and tries to clean up the mess so Dracula doesn’t have to deal with it. 

Finally, the room is cleaned, and Ganondorf notices Dracula has been awake for a few minutes now. In the midst of staring, he doesn’t notice that the mirror has been repaired.

“Um…” Ganondorf hesitates, “Well…”

“Can we just come to an agreement?” Dracula asks, quickly getting dressed after slinking into the shadows and behind the changing screen.

“Yes.”

“We don’t talk about this until the infection is all over and we’re somehow both alive.”

“Deal.”

“Until then, this never happened.”

“Agreed.”

Chapter Text

Ren steps out of a window onto Dracula’s roof, exactly where he expected him to hide. He quietly sits next to the vampire and looks over.

“Hey,” Ren asks, “What was with you and Ganondorf this morning?”

“It’s nothing!” Dracula immediately denies.

“Well, if you’re going to keep it to yourself. You seem to be doing better, at least.”

“I told you not to worry about me, kid.”

Morgana then creeps out of Ren’s bag and curls up in Dracula’s lap.

“Well, Morgana would like to prove otherwise,” Ren chuckles a bit.

“Whatever.” Dracula sighs and stares out into space.

Dracula looks down into his lap. At the cute little creature existing and… drooling on his clothing. With a scoff, he starts to give Morgana gentle scratches behind the ears. Then he moves his hand under the kitty’s chin.

Morgana’s purring is loud enough to be heard even from where Ren is sitting relative to Dracula.

Then Morgana gently bites Dracula’s hand and then grabs onto it. He then aggressively licks his hand. 

“Oh,” Ren hums, “He likes you.”

Dracula smiles. “I can tell. I have a soft spot for animals.”

“So you DO like Morgana.”

“Maybe I do.” Dracula looks to the sky and holds his free arm up to form a perch. A raven lands on his arm and is lowered to eye level. With utmost delicacy, he strokes the bird and watches it fly away. 

Morgana quickly glances up at a feather and swats at it. He rolls and flops around until one of his claws gets caught in the fabric of Dracula’s pants.

He starts to flail about, doing flips and somersaults, trying to free himself.

Dracula then grabs onto his little paw and is promptly met with biting and scratching. With enough finagling, Morgana is eventually freed, and he hops away to clean himself.

“Now,” Dracula continues, “I am… sort of still upset about his accusations, but in all honesty? I’m past the point where it would bother me, and he’s been making up for it since the hunting trip.”

Ren leans forward. “So, is this your way of saying you’ve forgiven him?”

“Perhaps.”

Ren is then left without much to say. He takes a few moments to think about what he’s going to say next. 

Then he asks, “I’ve been wondering for a while now.”

“Go on ahead. I’m not in the mood to come up with a puzzle to let you earn the answer.”

“I’m just curious, why are you so protective of Leaf? You don’t really know her all that well, as far as I know.”

“Well…” Dracula pauses. He rests his hand on his chin. “There’s a lot of reasons why I value the people I do. Let’s use Leaf as an example because you brought her up.”

“Alright.”

“You would think I only value others based on what they can do for me. It’s only partly true. When I’m looking for new additions to my ranks, I look for what they can do for me first and foremost.”

“Then why keep Leaf?”

“The value I see in her. She’s just a kid. I want to keep her safe.”

“So the value you see in her is just that you basically found a lost child and chose to adopt her.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Is that also why you’ve kept my friends and I around? You just felt the urge to protect?”

“It’s embarrassing when you put it that way.”

“Well, you were already a father. Maybe you just want to be a father again.”

Dracula sighs and leans back onto his hands.

Ren notices the lack of reaction and leans in. “What, are you scared to admit it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Dracula mutters under his breath.

“So? There has to be a reason you keep entertaining my questions and giving me puzzles.”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you actually like it when we interact?”

“The way a parent enjoys talking with their son.”

“So you do like me.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Then, why?”

“Eh.”

“What do you mean ‘eh’? There’s obviously a reason.”

“Well, it’s the same reason other people like you.”

“Too vague.”

“So?”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Dracula heaves a heavy sigh and paces on the rooftop. “Okay, okay, whatever!”

“Eh?”

“You win. I can’t one hundred percent put my finger on why. It could be your intelligence, maybe your strength, maybe even your drive to fight for the sake of others. That level of nobility it takes to help people without any expectation of reward is astounding and admirable. It’s a trait I never see anymore. It could even be your hair color.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Where am I going with this? Something about you reminds me of my youth. There is something about our personalities that is similar, but the difference lies in our moral fiber. Mine is practically in shreds, and you’re the man I used to be, and it both pisses me off and makes me want to protect you.”

“Oh.”

“When I look at you, I remember the mistakes I made to get to the point I’m at, and I don’t want a future like mine for you.”

“I… thank you?”

Dracula finally sits back down and leans forward a bit. “Of course. I don’t want you to lose those traits.”

Ren quietly sits there, thinking about what Dracula had told him.

Then he yawns and stretches, and accidentally leans on Dracula.

He falls asleep almost immediately.

Dracula gently looks over and scoops the kid up with utmost care. Then he carries Ren to his room and sets him in bed after removing his shoes.

Morgana makes a small ‘prrp’ and trots up to the bed. He jumps up next to Ren and flops onto his side. Dracula then leaves the room to let the kid sleep.

Chapter Text

Morgana slowly makes his way to the room he inadvertently blew up. He sits in the middle of the empty room and starts to meow and yowl as if trying to get someone’s attention.

He moves his little paws and continues to meow and mewl.

It’s harder to eat.

It’s harder to sleep. 

Eventually, he’s left the medical wing, still crying for someone. Begging for someone to come back. He crawls under Ren’s covers and continues to meow.

Ren pokes his head in and spots the little tail poking out from underneath the covers. Not even moving. 

He gently sets his hand over the small lump in the bed and is met with a “mrrp?” and the tail does a light flick.

Ren lifts the blanket. “Hi.”

“Ehhhh…” Morgana groans, rolling over.

He quietly picks up the kitty, who only goes completely limp in his arms. With a sigh, he places Morgana on his shoulder and goes to the kitchen.

Once there, he roots through the freezers and dried storage.

Eventually, he finds a random sand smelt wrapped in paper in the fridge and grabs it. He unwraps it and holds it up.

Rather than enthusiastically snatching the snack, Morgana lazily grabs Ren’s hand and moves the fish close enough to grab and just hold.

He isn’t even eating it.

“Are you bored?” Ren asks, now visibly worried.

Meow.

“Are you just sad?”

Meow.

“Do you just want attention?”

Meow.

Morgana then jumps down and sets the fish down. He sits and does nothing except stare at it. 

Ren sits down next to the cat, trying to discern what might be wrong.

What if he’s sick?

Did I do something wrong?

He isn’t eating much.

He isn’t actually talking much.

When was the last time he denied he was a cat?

Ren asks in some hope of getting any reaction at all, “Are you doing okay, kitty?”

“I don’t know…” Morgana finally sighs.

That is the first time he has spoken since Sumire died. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it… about Sumi?”

“Maybe?”

“I don’t think it was your fault.”

“I brought the yarn. I put it everywhere. I closed the vents and damaged those canisters and accidentally unplugged shit. I had one job. Help Sumi. I had one job.”

Ren finds himself at a loss for words, so instead he decides to pet his little head and scratch behind his ears and under his chin.

When that fails, he takes a cat toy out of his bag and tosses the fake mouse to him. No reaction other than a lackluster sniff and flopping onto the ground.

By the time Ren finally decides to ask Dracula for help, a hellhound had already scampered by and stolen the fish.

He picks up the cat again and goes directly to the library. 

“Dracula? We need help. Quick,” Ren frets, holding his very limp cat in his arms.

After he sets his book aside, Dracula stretches and stands up. “Alright. Hand him over, I’ll take a look.”

Once Dracula turns towards the laboratory, Ganondorf stretches and stands up, too. The two follow him to an examination table where Morgana is set on the cold surface.

Instead of sitting or anything, Morgana simply flops onto his side and sighs pathetically.

“What a miserable looking creature,” Ganondorf sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Alright… just to get the basics out of the way,” Dracula mutters.

He first summons a rabbit foot with a bell attached to it and shakes it around Morgana in an attempt to get his attention. Minimal reaction.

Low alertness. Already off to a bad start, if him refusing to sit or stand wasn’t already concerning.

He moves the cat onto a scale.

Lighter than usual. It doesn’t feel like his muscles are wasting away, at least. Hair… skin… eyes… a little duller than usual, but not much indication of illness?

Upon closer inspection, Dracula notices that it looks like he’s been crying more. After checking the ears, mouth, teeth, nose, and face, there don’t seem to be many signs of illness. No growths, no signs of infection, nothing. More symptoms of depression or anxiety than anything else. 

“So, how long have these behaviors been taking place?” Dracula asks, gently caressing Morgana’s fur.

“He’s been like this for a few days,” Ren explains, “I tried giving him a fish as a treat, and he didn’t even touch it. I think he might feel guilty for what happened to Sumire.”

Ganondorf adds, “That would certainly do it. After everything that happened, who wouldn’t feel guilty?”

Morgana seems to flatten on the surface and sigh.

“Okay. If this happens for more than a couple of weeks, then I’ll consider putting him on medication. Before we resort to medications, though,” Dracula pauses to grab a pad of paper and a pen. He starts to write while he talks. “We’ll check in on him again in a couple of weeks after making a few changes to see if they’ve helped or not. First, I would recommend giving him a bit more attention if you happen to be in the same room. This goes for everyone.”

“Seems doable,” Ren notes.

“We also have to encourage play. It could be tossing a hair tie. It could be offering a string, a bag, or a box you find around the castle. If you can get him to play somehow, that’s good. He also needs places to climb and hide if he doesn’t already have them. If we spend the next two weeks making changes like this and he’s still not better when we check in on him, I’ll look into medication options.”

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As time passes, Ren notices that Morgana is only barely getting better, even with the changes taking place.

He isn’t playing much.

He still isn’t eating much.

It feels like no matter how much it’s encouraged, or how much Ren tries to play with the cat, or even how much anyone pets on the kitty, it ultimately doesn’t matter because they’re always back at square one.

When Dracula gets a chance to look at Morgana again, he notices his condition is barely improving.

“I know we’ve been doing the best we can,” Dracula sighs, “Sometimes it’s just harder for some than others.”

Ren asks, “So, what do we do now?”

“I’m going to stay true to my word. We may have to put him on medication.”

“That’s concerning, because I don’t know if he’ll actually take any. If the meds exist for cats in the first place.”

“They certainly exist,” Dracula states, taking a small pill bottle in his hand, “The most common is fluoxetine. More commonly known as prozac.”

“Okay.”

“One pill in the morning, got it?”

Ren takes the bottle from Dracula. “I understand. So, how am I expected to give him the pill if he doesn’t eat much?”

“Well, what does he typically eat when he is eating?”

“He’ll eat just the minced-up rabbit or deer, usually.”

“I think the best you can do is hide it in the meat.”

“Won’t he suspect that there’s a pill in his food?”

“Look at him. He has a tuxedo pattern. I don’t think they’re particularly intelligent.”

Morgana looks up at Dracula and monotones, “I can still understand human speech, I’m depressed, not deaf.”

“Point is,” Dracula rests his hand on Morgana’s head. “It’s not difficult to get a cat to take medicine. Maybe since he’s capable of making decisions and using tools, he’ll take it on his own.”

“Alright. Thanks for trying to help.”

“Of course.”

Ren then scoops up his cat and leaves the laboratory.

Chapter Text

Morgana trudges through a hall, looking for something to do with his time, even as a distraction from what feels like the ever-familiar dullness of his daily life.

That’s when he notices a door is open when it’s usually tightly shut.

He pokes his head in and finds a very dark room illuminated only by candlelight and a fireplace to the left of the room. Morgana cautiously moves closer to the fireplace and finds a few chairs in front of it. Once he looks up, he notices Dracula staring into the flames. 

Morgana then goes over to the chair closest to him and, after wiggling for a moment, pounces onto a chair and manages to sit.

What do I even say? He wonders. 

“Um,” Morgana pauses, “Hi? Are… you okay?”

Dracula glances over. “I’m fine.”

“How long have you been staring at the fire?”

“I don’t know.”

The two sit there in relative silence with only the crackling flames there to occupy the space. Morgana starts to mess with his tail. “I think I’m doing better, at least.”

“Good. It’s a very long road, and these things take time.”

“How long?”

“Well… I can’t say. It varies from person to person.”

“How would you know?”

“I have my ways. Being immortal helps.”

“What’s it like?”

“Hm?”

“Being immortal. What’s it like?”

“Hm. That’ll take a minute to really consider. I think in a word, I could call immortality… dull.”

“Dull. But you’ve probably seen so much, right?”

Dracula leans back and folds his arms. “I have. So much that events barely even phase me anymore. After long enough, you become used to it all.”

“That sounds like a terrible way to live. Why did you become a vampire, then?”

Dracula stops and takes a few moments to consider his words carefully. “Spite. When I first lost someone I cared about, I blamed the Christian God for what happened and chose to live forever to curse Him for as long as I existed.”

“Do you still have that goal?”

“Yes. No matter how dull existence becomes, no matter how many times humans continue to make the same mistakes over and over again, even with history at their fingertips.”

“Oh.”

“And it never gets easier as you get older. I’m stuck in my thirties forever. Being relatively young forever, and keeping whatever appearance you had isn’t worth it when everyone you’ll ever love will eventually wither away. I die, I’m dragged back by the greedy and die all over again.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Sure, I’ve been broken before and left to pick up the pieces, but it hasn’t stopped me before. There’s only so many times you can be beaten down, broken, put back together only to be broken again before you eventually become indestructible… perhaps even free.”

“From what?”

“Humans. The greed, the hatred, from the indoctrination they force on their children from the moment they’re born.”

“The Phantoms? Are they an exception?”

“Yes. You and the others… seem to understand, too.”

“Well, we want to help people. Stop the worst people from hurting more than they already have.”

“A noble goal. I did not have that freedom to choose when I was young.”

“I can tell.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m keen on the desires and feelings of others.”

“After your accusations months ago, I’m shocked you have that sort of sense for that.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“I’m just pointing out how strange it is for you to only now mention you can basically read someone like a book when earlier you accused me of murder.”

“I… Fair enough. Like I was saying. You’re actually quite complicated for someone without a palace. You’re secretive, you hate humans, but you make exceptions. The fact that you and I are even talking right now is strange to me.”

Dracula waves a hand, causing a wineglass of blood to appear on the table between him and Morgana. Before Morgana has the chance to say anything, a cup of catnip tea also appears. Though it seems dubious, he concludes that since Dracula hadn’t poisoned him before, he won’t do it now.

“You and the others,” Dracula starts, “You talk a lot about ‘palaces’. I remember Futaba referring to one.”

Morgana clears his throat. “That. I suppose your lore is different from mine. In the context of my home game, there is a world where someone’s thoughts and emotions are materialized. I’ve dubbed them palaces, and the term simply stuck.”

“So it’s someone’s subconscious feelings.”

“Yes. Normally, there’s the collective unconscious, but when someone’s feelings and desires are warped beyond standard procedure, that’s when they develop a palace. It’s the rotten core of someone’s soul.”

“That might be why you can’t seem to find mine. Vampires tend to completely lack a soul. It’s why in silver-backed mirrors or vintage cameras, I don’t show up. I think, theoretically, I could be captured on a digital camera because of the lack of silver.”

“So you mean to say no soul means no palace?”

“Yes. Like I said before, immortality has a price.”

“I can tell. You look weary.”

“I get that a lot.” Dracula notices that what he said could have depressing connotations, so he quickly adds, “What I mean is that sleeping during the day and being awake at night, you tend to look exhausted during daylight hours.”

“I see. Well, I do remember Futaba’s palace. She didn’t have it because she was particularly horrible or depraved. Her self-loathing and depression were basically eating her alive.”

“So someone’s thoughts or emotions could be overwhelmingly negative, but that doesn’t mean if you have a palace, you’re automatically evil. It’s just that you’re more likely to be a horrible person if you have one.”

“You…” Morgana pauses, shocked, “You caught on a lot quicker than I thought you would.”

“I’m smarter than you think.” But that doesn’t really mean much when you’re alone for so long. When everything else around you rots away, eventually all you have left are your books and the knowledge you’ve gathered but can never spread. Never dying, just like the knowledge within these walls. “I will admit, though, sometimes this castle feels more like a prison. Usually on my worst days.”

“I’m sure it was very lonely before we all found your castle.”

“It always is. When the castle is practically empty with only the literal manifestation of death as your only friend, it tends to feel cold and lonely.”

“So, how do you usually feel when coming back from the dead if the castle is already so empty?”

“Well, my body stays the room’s temperature, for starters. And, being alive feels alright. At first. Then you start to wonder why you made the decisions you did that led you here. You realize for the fifteenth time that you can’t leave this cycle of living and dying even if you want it to end, so that endless cycle starts to become monotonous, and constantly chasing a victory that will never come because you’re the bad guy the player has to kill starts to eat away at whatever you have left. Once you’re back in Hell, not even a moment after coming back, you start to wonder what the point of it all was and why you’re even here when you only exist at the whims of uncaring gods and even less caring developers. Then you realize your only worth to anyone is how much money you can give to the people who really gave you life, and it’s a life they can change and mold for themselves however they want. You start to go a little crazy and spiral into almost a psychotic depression as you realize… there’s no point. Your life and your destiny are in the palm of someone’s hand and at the mercy of someone’s keyboard and art supplies. And nothing matters even when you reach and pass your breaking point.”

“Um… yes, I do think if you had a soul, you’d have a palace.”

“But let’s not worry about that. There isn’t much time to be talking about our issues. We have survival to focus on.”

Morgana watches as Dracula stares back into the flames with the same blank expression as when the conversation started.

He decides not to say anything else and to stay nearby.

After all, this is probably the best he’s felt in a while. Everything he said sort of puts it all into perspective. If Dracula can keep going through these crushing and unforgiving odds, then we can make it through this infection. Maybe.

Chapter Text

Once Morgana had finished his tea, he cleans up whatever mess he made, thanks Dracula, and leaves the room in a better mood than when he entered it.

That feline urge to cause mischief finally returns, and after changing to his earthly form, he zooms off on his four paws. 

With that feeling of energy and freedom finally flowing through his veins, he bounces off walls to turn corners and tumbles down stairs with not even a scratch.

He scrambles into Ganondorf’s room and immediately jettisons into his leg. Then he finally returns to normal and looks up. With an annoyed sigh, Ganondorf snarks, “Don’t you have someone else to annoy?” He shuts a book and tucks it safely in his desk. “Other friends? Family? Possibly a poisonous monster?”

“Sorry-” Morgana blurts, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Whatever.”

“Come on, you’re still bitter about what happened almost a year ago?”

“Yes, because that was a very serious accusation with no evidence to support it that put everyone in danger. So forgive me if metaphorically announcing ‘fire’ in a movie theatre when there isn’t one makes me feel incredibly annoyed.”

“I did apologize, and he did forgive me.”

“Well, that’s Dracula’s choice.” Ganondorf sternly places his pen on the desk and turns in the chair to face Morgana. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to let it go so easily.”

“Right. I turned on you, too. Because I thought you were taking sides just based on alignment.”

“It’s because of my dark olive skin, isn’t it?” Ganondorf jokes, his tone laced with malice.

“Oh, no, no, no, no. It isn’t that at all, it’s just a horrible coincidence. I do want to apologize for snapping at you the way I did.”

“I accept your apology. I don’t forgive you, but I will make sure you continue to regret making baseless accusations.”

“I understand.”

“For once, we agree on something. Please leave me alone.”

“Well, now I’m curious.”

“Oh, Din on a cactus, what do you want from me?!”

“Well, there has to be more to it than just the accusation itself for you to be so fiercely protective and bitter.”

“Fine. Fine. You win. I’ll converse with you.”

“Okay. Well, what led you to actually trusting Dracula in the first place?”

“Part of it is an ‘honor among thieves’ sort of deal. Villains team up when need be, and part of that social contract is mutual trust and respect. Less ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine’ and more ‘I don’t stab you if you don’t stab me’.”

“That sounds like the same thing. It’s a professional villain thing, then.”

“Yes. Another part is that when he and I joined forces, he basically saved my life. I repay my debts, after all.”

“It feels like you’re dancing around another reason.”

“Ah, shut up. There’s nothing else other than that.”

“You sure?”

“Why do you insist on bothering me?”

“Because I want this alliance to work, too. I learned my lesson.”

“Whatever.”

“Denial.”

“What? Why are you talking about a river?”

“You’re in denial, aren’t you? There’s more than just repaying your debt and honor among thieves.”

“Shut up. Or I’ll tell ‘Lady Ann’ all the things you say about her in your sleep.”

“Now, how would you know that would be effective blackmail if you didn’t feel anything else about him?”

“It was the one incident, it doesn’t mean anything. It’d be shameful of someone like me, of all people, to be attracted to the same sex. I have a part to play for my people.”

“Yeah, you say that. So if I had Ren type your name and… say… Hyrule Castle into his phone, there’d be nothing there?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You have something to hide, don’t you?”

“Everyone does.”

“Are you challenging me?”

“Wait, no!” Ganondorf shouts, then scoffs, “If you can figure anything out in a week, I’ll try to let go of my grudge. If you can’t, I’m drop-kicking you out of the castle.”

“Deal!”

“What do you… you took the deal right away?! Are you crazy?”

“Probably!” Morgana calls back to Ganondorf, now trotting his way to the remaining phantom thieves.

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“What do you MEAN you just signed us up for a heist at a time like this?!” Ann shouts, balling her hands into fists. “Are you insane?!”

“Probably.” Morgana shrugs.

“We’re supposed to agree on a target,” Haru adds, rolling her eyes. “This is my father’s palace all over again, isn’t it?”

“I hope not,” Ren groans, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But our hands are kind of tied because our dearest Mona decided to be an impulsive jackass.”

“He’s the one who dared me,” Morgana protests.

“Well, we’re here now, so we may as well scope it out.” Ren takes his phone from his pocket and opens Metaverse Navigator. He then asks, “So, what are the keywords you had in mind?”

Morgana thinks for a minute. “Ganondorf Dragmire.”

Once the mere name is input, the group find themselves transitioned to a palace.

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Mona looks around the entrance and notices the sheer scale of the palace. It’s so much bigger than any of them would have anticipated. However, the castle in the center doesn’t seem to be guarded, but it lacks a bridge.

Joker then looks around and notices a temple that can be seen a relatively short distance away, seemingly completely unguarded.

“Over there,” he states, gesturing vaguely to said temple. “It doesn’t look all that guarded, but… I’ll scout ahead to see if any of these..”

“Training dummies?” Panther asks, prodding at one lying on the floor. “I don’t think they’re going to move. It’s just weird, this palace is suspiciously unguarded.”

“He could be trying to get our guard down,” Mona adds, trying to get one of the dummies to do or say anything.

“Well, I’m still going to check if the temple is guarded or not.”

The other three thieves nod at him, and he runs off to check the temple. It’s, oddly enough, completely unguarded. There’s nothing here. He pokes his head out the door and signals for the rest to follow.

Once all four of the thieves are there, a veiled figure appears behind them.

Noir is the first to turn around and, alarmed, she points her grenade launcher at the stranger. “Who are you?!”

The figure cooly moves the launcher away from their head and monotones, “Now, now. No need for that. I’m not here to hurt you. Actually, I was aware of you being here. I spotted you past the other training dummies.”

“Okay,” Panther hesitates, “So why are you here?” 

“I presume you’re here to stop the shadow. Right?”

“We… are. What about it?”

“In that case. You may need these,” they reach into their cloak and take out boxes of ammunition. It’s glowing yellow and white as if enchanted with holy magic. “The shadow isn’t immune to everything, but he and his safeguards are incredibly strong. Don’t use these all at once, now.”

“Well…” Joker takes the boxes into his inventory. “Thank you.”

“Of course. There are boxes and pots all over the place… you may find healing items, but they are in limited supply.”

“We don’t even know where to start?”

“Everything else has been taken care of--” They stop and turn at the sound of marching and talking. “The shadows. They’re probably looking for me. Before I go, there’s only the front entrance. Go up to the moat, and a bridge will appear.”

Indistinct shouting can be heard, and the veiled figure is sealed inside a ruby. Then they are swiftly taken away, leaving the thieves alone in the dilapidated temple.

“Well… I guess we know what to do now?” Noir seems visibly confused as to why a cognition was suddenly helping them. “There has to be a reason they were trying to help us, though.”

Mona adds, “Given the dark cloak and the ruby prison, I think it might be a cognitive version of Dracula. This may be just how he sees him. A prize to be won, or something to keep sealed away and safe.”

“Let’s start on the palace. Properly.”

“Agreed.”

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Once inside, the four notice that the entryway to the castle is surprisingly empty. As if the shadow doesn’t register that they’re a threat, foreboding organ music can be faintly heard from the top of the tower.

When Mona tries to climb the stairs, it sends him backwards violently. Joker manages to catch his friend before he can get hurt by the impact speed. 

He notices beams all connecting to the shield. Six different layers of defenses, each with its own respective door labeled with a specifically colored medallion. 

The first to catch his eye is a deep purple. Shadows creep between the planks of wood that comprise the door and along the warped stone walls. The shadowy figures seem to call out to Joker, trying to compel him to make his approach. 

He turns to the others and asks, “Which door do we want to go through first? I was thinking about that one with the deep purple medallion.”

“It’s definitely the… weirdest one here so far,” Panther shrugs and crosses her arms.

Noir leans back and argues, “I like the look of the green one instead.”

“Well, I like the purple-ish grey door,” Morgana proudly states.

“Mona,” Joker hesitates, “That… that’s the door Panther and I happen to like.”

“Well, I like that one, so Noir is outvoted.”

“Fine,” Noir huffs.

“We’ll go to the green door next, okay?” Panther pats Noir’s shoulder, trying to placate her.

“Alright. Thank you, Panther.”

Once they’re all in agreement, Joker is the first to step through the door and into the first part of the dungeon.

The first thing they notice is an unlit torch to the right.

I wish Oracle were here. She’d probably recognize some of this. Joker sighs and investigates the rest of the room.

“I think we have to light this torch to make platforms appear?” Mona thinks out loud, “It’s the only sort of cause-and-effect I can think of.”

“You might be right,” Joker replies.

Panther looks at her hands and goes as close to the edge of the platform as she can. “Célestine.”

“Panther, Panther, what are you doing-”

“Agidyne.”

Before Joker has the chance to stop her, Célestine appears and uses Agidyne on the torch, lighting it near instantly. This causes blocks to appear in their path to serve as platforms.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Joker exclaims, scratching the back of his head.

“Well, if it works, it works,” Mona then continues, “Come on, we don’t know if this is on a timer, so we should get going.”

Joker promptly leads the way, leaping and bounding across the platforms, trying his best not to look down into the seemingly bottomless pit below.

“DUCK!” Noir shouts, moving to dodge a green bubble.

“Thanks for calling it out, Noir!” Mona quickly pulls Panther down before it can hit her.

Once the phantoms get to the furthest platform they can, they encounter an enemy that vaguely resembles an anemone. Joker could’ve sworn that he’s seen something like it in a different game from Ganondorf’s origin series, but he doesn’t exactly know for sure.

Another time Oracle still being alive would be very helpful.

Joker promptly shoots the thing and initiates a battle with it. In battle, it reveals itself to be an Abaddon.

Right off the bat, it attempts to use Mabufudyne in an attempt at capitalizing on Panther’s weakness, only for it to do absolutely nothing to her. Rather, the ice hits everyone else for 160 damage.

Joker promptly makes Arséne use Megidolaon for twenty thousand damage, killing the shadow in one hit.

The four stand there for a moment in abject shock.

When Mona finally gathers his bearings, he jokes, “Yeah, I think you got him.”

“Naahhhhh,” Haru playfully snarks, “You think?”

Panther then looks around and nudges Joker to get his attention. Once she has it, she vaguely gestures to the platforms that have disappeared.

They nod at each other, and Panther once again uses Agidyne to light the nearest torch.

After traversing among the platforms, they find a staircase made of those same structures they’ve been relying on. 

Joker is the first to walk down the stairs and find a button on the floor. Upon stepping on it, he notices something falling down. He shouts at the other three team members, “Look out!”

Thankfully, the treasure chest didn’t hit anyone. The four scope out what could possibly be in there.

Inside are some shockingly lightweight gauntlets.

“Hm.” Joker inspects the equipment. Then he reads off inscriptions on the inside of one of the gauntlets. “Caution: may disappear outside the metaverse. Well. That’s good to know that it’s merely a figment of his imagination.”

“I guess the next question is,” Mona starts, “Why is his palace so… specific? Like, for Kamoshida’s palace, it all had one central theme, but nowhere particularly specific. I just don’t know where that disgusting stench is coming from!”

“Oh, that? The lavender? I didn’t really notice it until you pointed it out.”

“It’s so strong it’s disgusting!”

Joker simply shakes his head and notices a platform further away. He looks at the others, then at Mona. After activating his third eye, he notices there’s a place to swing with his grappling hook. He quickly swings over and notices another button. With as much strength as he can muster, he stomps on the button, lifting the gate blocking the door on the other side of the room.

He makes his way back to the rest of the team.

Now reunited, the four make it to the door and make their way through. That’s when they find pots and boxes in the room, with a purple core in the center waiting to be destroyed. Once it’s interacted with, however, it transforms into Nebiros.

Joker combs his hair with his fingers and scoffs, “And I thought this was going to be a challenge.”

Once he sees an opening, he proclaims, “Kaguya Picaro! Shining Arrows!”

What follows is six consecutive volleys of holy magic, ultimately dealing 375 damage. This also has the added benefit of knocking Nebiros down.

The four look among each other and decide to initiate an All-Out Attack for 648 damage, killing Nebiros and destroying the barrier in one fell swoop. 

With the purple barrier broken, the squad leaves into the main room and looks over the rest of the doors they need to go through.

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Before any of them can start to discuss what they plan on doing next, Panther frantically waves her arm and blurts, “I promised Noir we’d go through the green door next!” When the rest of them look at her, she apologizes, “I’m sorry.”

Mona tries to assure her, “Oh, no, that’s not why we were looking at you. We were looking at you because you were yelling.”

They go through the door with the green medallion and find themselves in the next trial, where they are immediately attacked by a shadow. Cerberus. Without even thinking about it, Joker changes his persona to Metatron and uses Ice Age for roughly 225 damage. Luckily, it does initiate a Hold Up, but instead of using the chance to activate an All-Out Attack, he passes the baton to Noir.

With no hesitation, she uses One-Shot Kill to deal 315 damage.

However, it doesn’t cause another knockdown, allowing Cerberus to finally take a turn.

It attempts to use Maragidyne, but barely manages to scratch Panther. However, it does deal 160 damage to everyone else.

Thinking quickly, Mona summons Diego to use Salvation, returning everyone else to maximum HP.

Panther guards on her turn, leaving Joker to deal 225 more damage with Ice Age. This finally puts down Cerberus for good.

When the battle ends, Panther takes this time to light the torches in the room again. 

“Having learned from the previous room, surely this will also do something, right?” Haru asks Ann. Ann, in turn, shrugs.

Sure enough, the only exit aside from how they entered finally becomes available, and they go through only to find… “ANOTHER PLATFORMING CHALLENGE?!” Noir suddenly shouts. Then she takes a deep breath and says it again, but calmer. “Another platforming challenge.”

The four promptly agree to split up to look for the two switches, like in the previous room.

It takes a while, mostly due to fans all over the place and trying to avoid laser traps, but they do manage to find the two buttons again and find the next miniboss room.

The barrier’s core turns into a Kumbhanda. However, the battle is disappointingly short as a Cosmic Flare from Metatron lands and is immediately followed up by a hefty swing of Haru’s axe.

Without any warning, they’re all sent hurtling back to the main room and are set with which door they should go through next, now that two out of the six barriers are broken.

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Fire after Water and so on and so forth, the tedium starts to eat away at them.

Joker sits against a wall and holds his head in his hands.

“Very few shadows, scarce healing items, the same damn puzzles, not a safe room in sight…” he mutters, trying to keep himself calm. “It’s like his shadow is doing this on purpose.”

Mona sits next to him. “Well, the barriers are gone, at least. We should be able to climb the tower now.”

As Joker stands back up, he can’t help but notice things he’d glossed over sooner. The place is bizarrely overgrown with lavender and green carnations. Carvings have prominent triangles and lambdas where appropriate. “The closet is see-through…” he jokes to himself.

“Come again?” Panther asks.

“Have you noticed all these weirdly specific symbols? There’s lavender and green carnations everywhere.”

Mona gags. “Tell me about it.”

“Exactly. I’ve read somewhere that these specific plants usually have gay connotations.”

Panther rests a hand on her chin. “I noticed these weird triangles and sort of squiggles carved in a pattern. If what you’re saying is true, then what you’re saying is that you’re calling him gay.” 

“You get it. He’s so deep in the closet that he doesn’t realize everyone can see through it.”

Mona jumps up and adds, “I remember specifically something he said that led to us being here in the first place!”

“And you didn’t think to tell us until now?”

“I didn’t think it’d be that important.”

“So. Spill it. What did he say?”

“‘It was one incident, it doesn’t mean anything. It’d be shameful for me, of all people, to be attracted to the same sex. I have a part to play for my people.’”

“That would definitely do it. I’m just surprised that you remembered every single word he said.”

With no further discussion, they start to climb up the tower and through the first hallway, trying to avoid as many shadows as possible to preserve their few healing items. In the first room, they promptly blow past a couple of Fafnirs and up another flight of stairs.

Then they swiftly defeat another two Nebiros and take a boss key before climbing yet another flight of stairs. They can’t help but wonder if there is an organ getting louder or if it’s just them slowly going crazy from the amount of tedium.

That’s when they’re confronted by a Queen Mab and a Skadi. Queen Mab starts to concentrate while Skadi attempts a Mabufudyne, ultimately resulting in heavy damage to everyone except for Ann with her Evade Ice skill.

Joker quickly retaliates with a Megidolaon from Arsène, only to feel completely exhausted despite Skadi being completely wiped out.

He realizes he’s already completely wasted all of his SP.

“Dammit.”

Panther is the second to notice she’s almost completely out of SP and hits Queen Mab for 274 damage with her whip. Mona still has a fair amount of SP left and uses this chance to attack her with a Magarudyne for 160 damage, knocking the shadow down and opening up an opportunity for an All-Out Attack, which deals 648 damage.

This finally ends the battle.

The four look desperately for a safe room somewhere, anywhere in this palace.

Then the horror dawns upon them; there is no safe room.

Nowhere to save.

Nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

Nowhere to lick their wounds.

Nothing.

Joker looks back at his short supply of healing items and decides, I’ll save these for an emergency. Before taking a few SP adhesives and handing them out to the rest of the team.

“Okay,” he heaves, “Let’s find the treasure room and get the hell out of here.”

As they progress, they hear the organ getting louder and louder. With hateful inscriptions in Hylian flit their way down the stairs. When suddenly, the stairs come to a halt, but there are paintings marking different moments in what seems to be Gerudo history, as Ganondorf sees it.

As the four travel from painting to painting, they notice reverence for a sand goddess and disdain for the Hylians’ deities, presumably from centuries of use, abuse, and disregard for anyone other than the Hylians.

Joker can’t help but feel this pit in his stomach, as if he somehow feels empathy for someone who has slaughtered people with barely any regret. A man who put all of his rage and spite into every attack back in the before times. 

He always did wonder why Ganondorf always seemed so angry or spiteful to the other characters from his home series.

However, the reasons are right there in front of him.

People being killed for their resources, or not just rolling over to let Hyrule’s king take what he wants from them. Women being abused. They needed to steal and kill for the sake of survival.

I can’t imagine how rough he might’ve had it. Maybe he felt guilty for feeling attracted to men because of everything his people have been through. Being a gay man in a society that is ninety-nine percent women. That’s rough, buddy.

Then they finally enter the boss room and find the shadow on the opposite side of the room, working away at the organ. And, right above them, the treasure, floating there, has shockingly already taken shape. How long has he been aware of this as a problem? Why won’t he fix it? Why won’t he let us help him?

Ganondorf’s shadow stops playing for a moment and turns just enough for Joker to catch a glimpse of the piercing on his right ear. “You four actually made it. You’re here to steal what’s rightfully mine, aren’t you? Just because it’s there, already taken shape, you think it’s yours to take.”

“Don’t you see it?” Joker asks, “Your heart is twisted beyond recognition. Filled with regrets, desires, and love bordering on obsession. It’s ours to take.”

“You say that like you’ve already won. But, I know you’re all SO worn out,” the shadow condescends, feigning worry. Only for him to then return to his neutral expression.

“You mean you planned this tedious as fuck tower on purpose?! You had such good control over your own heart that you kept your palace THIS put together, where you could change it however you wanted?”

“Yes. If I wanted to change, I would’ve. You can try to steal that treasure, but I’m called the king of thieves for a reason. I’m not going to let you take the one thing I have closest to me away, even if I have to die to keep him safe.” Ganondorf’s shadow then turns to face the phantoms. “I did not build this world to let you three and that delusional, flea-bitten excuse of a feline take it away from me!”

When it becomes evident to the shadow that the Phantom Thieves aren’t going anywhere, he folds his arms and levitates into the air.

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That’s when he rises higher up into the air and hurdles directly into the ground, sending shockwaves across the entire room and causing stones to fall.

Cracks start to emerge in the cracks between stones, and dust particles start to linger in the air. Ganondorf’s shadow arrogantly proclaims, “You have one hour to even attempt to stop me. If that hour passes and you’re still in here? You’ll die, but it will be slow.”

Now, given the opportunity to strike, Joker unloads half of his magazine onto the shadow, but the shadow evades every single bullet.

Morgana shouts, “Diego!” only for him to completely whiff his attack. “Dammit!”

He then uses his slingshot against the shadow, but it does nothing.

“Damn!” Morgana exasperates, punching his paw while his fur starts to stand on end.

“Why would you even bother using your slingshot?” Ann asks, almost stunned at Mona’s actions after what had happened earlier, “That thing dodged all of Joker’s bullets, didn’t you see it?”

“HOW FAST IS THIS BASTARD?!” Morgana shouts, struggling to comprehend what’s happening.

Joker manages to use Eigaon, but the opponent only barely flinches. Just when he thinks he has finally an opening, the shadow merely brushes off his pauldron and cracks his neck. Then Ganondorf’s shadow almost lands an attack on Joker, but his down special successfully parries. The shadow is taken aback for a moment, but quickly regains his composure. 

Haru readies herself as she shouts, “Lucy!”

She attempts to use One-Shot Kill, but misses the attack.

She then uses Mapsiodyne and successfully damages Shadow Ganondorf.

Haru yells out towards the other phantom thieves, “Let’s surround him and attack him together all at once!”

“Great idea!” Morgana replies. “Let’s perform an All-Out Attack!”

The thieves then attempt to surround the shadow, but he backflips and slashes Haru with his forward attack once his feet hit the ground. “That’s cute,” the shadow teases. “You think I’m not privy to those tricks? What kind of eight-bit supervillain do you think I am?”

“Noir!” Morgana cries. “Alright, that’s it! Lady Ann! Showtime!”

Both Ann and Morgana deal a moderate amount of damage to the opponent. 

“Célestine! Agidyne!”

Agidyne deals no damage.

Panther grits her teeth and tries to restrain her frustration. “Blazing Hell!” 

The attack only slightly weakens Shadow Ganondorf.

Joker uses Eiha against the shadow and deals a minuscule amount of damage. He then uses his forward smash as he unleashes Arsène against the shadow. 

“My god, this thing is Mr. Okumura levels of tough!” Ann heaves, glancing at Mona as he gets close to her while battling. “If not tougher!” She struggles to catch her breath.

“Just please rest for now, Lady Ann,” Morgana shakily requests. “We managed to beat Okumura’s robot army, we can beat this asshole too!” 

“HARU!” Ren shouts, frantic.

It appears that Haru has been hit hard and is lying on the ground, exhausted and injured. Her weapons are scattered just out of arm’s reach.

“Never mind,” Morgana urges as he hands a bead to Ann. “We need you now more than ever! Just give it your best shot.”

As Ann gets up, Ren is hit with a final smash. He then attempts to use a bead to heal, but the shadow manages to swat it out of his hands and land another hit on him. Morgana uses Samarecarm on Joker. 

“Thanks, Mona,” Joker thanks as the two run from the shadow’s attacks. 

“Crap,” Morgana frowns, “That was the last of my SP.” He then tries to use an item to recover SP, but the shadow takes it from him, and Morgana realizes that nobody has any more SP recovery items.

“Oh right,” Morgana sighs, “Sorry, Joker, but I spent all the yen you gave me on an online tuna order...” he stops to think a little bit. “By now, it’s probably all moldy and disgusting, though.”

“YOU WHAT?”

The shadow then beats every character down to the ground, all weakened to a state of near-death.

“Just like that gray hedgehog once said, it’s no use,” Haru gasps for air, then continues, “I don’t think that thing can be beat.”

“You may be right, Noir,” Joker weakly replies, still managing to laugh it off. “We might be toast… but at least we’ll die together doing what we always do.”

“Mmm, toast…” Morgana says, out of breath. 

Shadow Ganondorf then uses a forward smash, rendering Morgana and Haru unconscious. 

“NOOOOOO!” Joker cries out in desperation. Then, with all the hysterical strength he can gather, he manages to get back on his feet. He screams until his voice turns raw, “KAGUYA PICARO! SHINING ARROWS!” 

The arrows all land on the shadow, knocking him down. 

As Joker pants, he scoops up Morgana while Ann carries Haru. 

“Mona…” Joker tries to wake Morgana as tears roll down his face. “Morgana, come on, little buddy, stay with me! Stay with me, please! I can’t lose you!” 

“Phantom Thieves!” an echoing voice that sounds like Dracula yells out as the palace falls.  

Ann and Ren collapse, and everything goes dark.

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Four days later, Morgana wakes up in a hospital bed right next to Haru and Ren’s. 

“J-Joker… L-Lady Ann…” Morgana weakly utters to Ren and Ann. “W-w-what happened…”

“You were knocked out by Ganondorf’s shadow,” Ann replies to Morgana. “That thing really did a number on us, didn’t it?”

“Y-yeah… H-how’s Haru? Is she doing okay?”

“I-I’m… okay…” Haru replies.

“Haru!” Everybody else shouts out.

“We’re so glad you’re alright!” Morgana leaps into her lap in excitement. 

“Oh good, you guys are awake,” Dracula says as he and Ganondorf walk into the room. “You four aren’t suffering too much, are you?”

“It’s just some aching, but we’re doing fine,” Ren says with a weak tone. “T-thank you, Dracula… Thank you so much… Are... are you doing okay?”

“Better than ever, actually,” Dracula smirks, “Don’t worry about me. It put up one Hell of a fight, though, but nothing I can’t handle. Nothing like a good fight to get the blood moving again.”

“Wait, wait, wait, you mean to tell me he got back up?!”

“All good villains do. Again, nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Have you seen what the Belmonts can do? A punch from him is nothing compared to a meteor to the head.”

“I would like to apologize,” Ganondorf admits, taking a deep breath as if trying to maintain composure. “I was being an asshole, and quite obviously, this wasn’t productive. I was more concerned with the safety of one person as opposed to keeping everyone else alive.”

“I forgive you, Ganondorf…” Morgana replies with a weak smile. 

“You four are surprisingly courageous,” Ganondorf admits, “It takes either immense bravery, immense stupidity, or both to stand up to me. I have to admit, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you. But, there’s something I have to ask. When we were all in there, we noticed a shirtless Dracula statue in your palace. Are you…”

“In love with him? No!” Ganondorf scoffs. 

“It is rather obvious, mister Ganondorf,” Haru adds, “The lavender smell really said it all. That and the green carnations. Didn’t think you liked flowers.”

“This… really isn’t how I expected you all to find out… but truth be told, I didn’t expect to tell anybody I’m gay in the first place”

“I have to agree,” Dracula admits.

“You too?”

“The closet was not just glass; the only other thing in there with you were clothing hangers.” Dracula then leans in as if he were about to kiss Ganondorf, “Takes a friend of Dorothy to know a friend of Dorothy.”

Then, just before Ganondorf can respond, Dracula gives him a peck on the lips.

“Heh,” Ann faintly laughs. “You look like Mario’s cap right now.”

“Silence,” Ganondorf blurts, already looking up at the ceiling with arrogance.

“Ha. You’re fun to mess with,” Dracula laughs to himself.

Chapter Text

A few weeks have passed since that incident. 

Ever since Ren had finally managed to get back on his feet, Leaf has been following him constantly.

Currently, she is holding on to his leg while he tries to walk to the library.

He finally asks, “What are you doing?”

“Holding onto your leg, stupid,” Leaf snarks, sticking her tongue out at him.

Ren scoops her up. “Alright, you little shit!”

Leaf only giggles and, after being set down, runs away after stealing Ren’s phone.

“Hey!” Ren shouts.

Leaf shouts back, “Try to catch me if you want your phone back!”

“Get back here, you little shit!”

“Bleeeeh!”

Ren soon catches up to her and holds her under his arm, still trying to reach for his phone. Then he holds her up, with his hands under his arms. “I’m going to eat you!”

“No!”

“I’m going to gobble you up!”

“Don’t eat me!”

“Relax, I’m not going to literally eat you,” Ren continues after setting Leaf on the floor, “But I am going to do this!”

He quickly though gently pretends to punch her face.

Leaf quickly retaliates by swatting him. Ren then feigns injury.

“No! You killed meeeeeee,” Ren kneels on the floor and dramatically flops onto the floor. However, he forgets the floor is stone and hits his head. “Ow.”

“Good,” Leaf plays along, kicking him with playful intent. Only to accidentally kick him in the crotch.

“Ow! Hey, no fair, don’t go below the belt!” Ren curls up, quietly cursing.

“I’m sorry!”

“I know you didn’t mean it.”

Leaf then quietly sits next to Ren, occasionally poking him to make sure he’s still alive. “No dying, it’s bad for you.”

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Leaf crawls out of bed at five in the morning, and while trying to stifle her laughter, she enters Ren’s room and stands in the doorway.

He looks up from his phone. “What?”

She takes on a cat-like pose and paws the air. “Nya.”

“My god, you’re an idiot,” He exasperates, setting his phone down and picking up a book.

“Your dad’s an idiot.”

“We have the same adopted dad.”

“No we don’t, they found you in the back of a gyudon stand covered in meat trimmings. Dirty, moldy beef bowl baby.”

“You know I dropped you on your head when we met? That’s why your head looks like an inbred cat.”

“You look like if the word weeaboo became a person and was hit by a truck.”

“No, no, other fighters had to avert their eyes in the wake of your existence to avoid needing therapy.”

“You need therapy.”

Then they both burst out laughing and Leaf leaves while giving him the akanbe.

“Close the door behind you!”

“Nah.”

She then proceeds to turn the light on, causing Ren to scream because of the sudden change in lighting.

Then she turns back and tosses an empty pokeball at him. He promptly catches it.

“Uh oh.”

Once Ren tosses it back, it hits Leaf square in the face.

“DAD! Ren is being mean to me!”

“Leaf, you started it!”

Dracula drags himself out of bed and looks at Leaf. Then once he enters Ren’s room, looks at the kid.

“You two.”

“Yeah…?” Ren asks.

“It is five in the morning. I don’t sleep until one in the morning. If you’re going to kill each other, either wait for a reasonable hour or do it somewhere else.”

“Fine.”

“Now, apologize to your sister.”

“Leaf, I’m sorry I hit you in the face with a pokeball. It may happen again.”

“Good enough. Leaf?”

Leaf sighs, “Ren, I’m sorry I tried hitting you with a pokeball, I may try it again.”

“Go outside and kill each other, don’t wake me up unless it’s an emergency.”

“Is crying an emergency?” Leaf asks.

“No. The Second Coming of Christ is an emergency. The castle being on fire is an emergency. An infected getting in the castle is an emergency. If someone is probably about to die, it’s an emergency. Crying is not an emergency.”

“Okay,” the two simultaneously agree.

Dracula then nods and goes back to bed.

Chapter Text

Dracula makes his way to a balcony and leans against the railing. That’s when he hears light laughter behind him and looks under his cape. Leaf looks up at him and holds her pointer finger to her lips.

The vampire nods and looks out at the horizon.

Suddenly, his cape is pulled on, causing Dracula to instinctively yelp and swipe at whoever pulled it. “You little--” He takes a deep breath before he can hit Ren, and continues, calmer, “Please do not do that again. It hurts when you do that.”

“Okay, okay,” Ren apologizes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think pulling that would hurt.”

“I accept your apology. How it feels when you pull on my cape is how it feels when someone pulls your hair or pinches your skin. I can feel what happens to it.”

“I understand. I’ll try not to do it again.”

Dracula moves to sit on the railing of the balcony and faces the horizon. Ren leans next to him and looks over. 

“I was thinking about life in the before times,” Ren admits with a sigh.

“At least you and your sister had lives back then.”

Leaf yawns and asks, “What do you mean?”

“You, and Ren, and every other fighter here had a role before all this started.”

Ren asks, “You did, too. You’re a boss fight. And a spirit.”

“That’s all I am. My job was to sit in my castle like I always do. Attack the people who try to kill me like I always do. What do I do here now that’s really different from before this apocalypse started?”

“Oh.”

“My entire life is this castle. It has been this castle since 1986. It will continue to be my life for the foreseeable future.”

“Wasn’t it 87?”

“That was the United States release. I started as a Japanese exclusive, as one does.”

“Okay. Well, I guess I didn’t realize how boring life gets when you only play the role of a boss. You’re in the World of Light game mode twice… and a boss fight for… Simon, Richter, Luigi, and Pac-Man.”

“I figured you wouldn’t get it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, you of all people should know what it means!” Dracula snaps, punching the railing he’s sitting on. “Do you realize how much your world revolves specifically around you?!”

“I didn’t mean--”

“Of course. Of course! You’re treated like a criminal once and you think you get what being in my shoes is like! You’re only loved because every time you show your face, you give our uncaring creators more and more money! When you dry up, they’ll abandon you for the next cash cow and realize that you only got this attention because you printed money.”

“My god… does every game do this?”

“Depends on who you ask. Leaf there, her home game and the game it’s a remake of has been milked since 1998, and has no signs of stopping. Little Mac has been crossover fodder like the rest of us Famicom veterans since 2009. I’m still here, stagnating and have been stagnating since 2013.”

“I say this with sympathy,” Ren sighs, “I’m sorry you’ve gone through this. I don’t understand how it feels yet, but I do get the feeling of abandonment and rejection.”

Dracula heaves a heavy sigh and looks over at Ren. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Here…” Dracula pauses, summoning some lager and a couple of pint glasses. He pours the drinks and sets a glass near Ren. “I’m not sure if you drink, but…”

“Nono, I’m just worried about the legal ramifications.”

“Drinking age here is 18. You’re fine.”

“Well… I appreciate it.” Ren takes a drink and holds it in his mouth for a moment. Surprisingly, not as bitter as I thought.

“Of course. You said you were familiar with abandonment? I’m sure you mean in your game and not the franchise itself, right?”

“I do. You study well, and you’re a model student. You listen, you’re friendly, and you’re a good friend. You stop one politician from drunkenly SA-ing a woman and you’re a felon.”

“Ha. Hate it when you try to help people and all they give you is crap for it. You could do everything right for your entire life…”

“And then suddenly everything falls apart.”

“Because something was out of your control. It’s happened so much that eventually nothing surprises you anymore.”

Ren takes another drink and asks, “You said once that I remind you of when you were young. What did that mean?”

“Other than what I already told you?”

“You were vague.”

“Fair enough. I can start with your… being refreshingly innocent.”

“You mean naïve.”

“I was trying to put it nicely, because I know ‘naïve’ isn’t exactly the right word either. You’re aware of how bad things are, but you still seem to have this idea that everyone is innately a good person. That’s what I mean when I refer to your naïveté. I bring it up because I remember still having that blind faith in others that you do.”

“I’m guessing you then had an experience that cost you that sort of innocence.”

“Yes. I was young. I was a knight with delusions of heroism and doing the right thing. Think of it like a young and dumb police recruit looking to do the right thing, blissfully unaware of how much corruption is really going on.”

“Did you always want to help people?”

“I did. That was my purpose. Be born, become a knight like my father, inherit the estate, make the next cog in the clergy’s machine, and die.”

“That’s a horrible existence.”

“It was. When I look at you, I remember my time as Mathias. Your skill in combat and strategy is impressive. You’re intelligent, you’re kind, you’re human in a way I used to be.”

“I must’ve gotten lucky.”

“You did. In all honesty? I’m happy you have the opportunities you do. You have friends who value you and bring out your best. People who love you.”

“People love you, too.”

“I find that hard to believe. I haven’t given them anything worth loving. I’m not human, I’m not a good person, I have been killing people for longer than even your parents have been alive. What could anyone see in someone as cruel, stagnant, and useless as me?”

“What about--”

“People value me because of what I can do for them. I can make them immortal, give them nearly anything they could want. What would be the point in valuing something that can just as easily be thrown away?”

“Yeah… I get that.”

“Do you?”

“My parents tossed me out of the house to live in an attic because of what I did. No calls, no letters home, nothing.”

“You’re lucky you even got to go home at the end of your game.”

The two drink in silence for a while.

“Hey,” Ren starts, now realizing his words are caught in his throat.

Dracula sighs. “What is it?”

“You know the rest of us here really do appreciate what you’ve been trying to do, right?”

“I’m not sure.”

“That… isn’t the answer I expected. I thought you’d announce you were aware and proud of it. That it would fuel your ego or something.”

“Please allow me to share something.”

“Okay?”

“The people who build themselves up and look down on others or liken themselves to be gods, they are the people who hate themselves the most. They hate who they see when they look at themselves, and try to elevate themselves to be superior to everyone else. So they can feel something other than crippling self loathing.”

“I figured… I guess I just didn’t anticipate you, of all people, to feel that way.”

“Well, I do. Constantly. Intellectually, I know in a way I’m better than other people. It isn’t enough.”

“You want to be loved and appreciated again. Genuinely cared about again.”

“Yes. All the power in the universe does not make up for the hundreds of years of loneliness and self-hatred.”

“Power can be very isolating.”

“It really can be.”

“Is there anything we can do to help you?”

“I… don’t know,” Dracula admits, setting the empty glass aside. “I’m not sure if it can be helped or not.”

“Alright.” Ren looks over to check on Leaf and notices that she’s sound asleep on the balcony. “I’ll put Leaf to bed.”

“I understand. Thank you for the talk, by the way. Perhaps I just needed a bit of perspective.”

“Any time. You can take your mask off around me or Leaf whenever you need to. It’s not just around Ganondorf.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it, truly.”

Ren then nods and, after picking up Leaf, goes into her room to tuck her into bed.

Dracula, alone with his thoughts, looks down at the surface on this clear night. Not a single cloud beneath them.

He takes a good, long look at the destruction below, and he starts to wonder if there will even be anything for the others to return to when this is all over. IF this will all be over.

Would it just be better for them if I killed them in their sleep?

What if they have nothing to go back to?

They might die, anyway, no matter what I do.

Maybe I could?

Would this fall even kill me after everything else I’ve survived?

Would this fall even kill them quickly enough not to feel anything?

He nods to himself and remembers that after dying so many times, he’s numb to the idea of losing his life.

He wonders if it would even be worth it to die again.

What about the people I’d leave behind?

This choice is supposed to be easy. It’s always been easy. Dying has always been the easy way to escape these situations, so why can’t he just go through with anything?

Then it hits him.

If he’s hesitating, it means he has a reason to stay.

When was the last time he had a reason to stay?

Ultimately, Dracula turns back towards the castle, stands up, and goes inside.

It’s not worth it, he decides. These people still need me, even if this has no sign of ending anytime soon.

Chapter Text

Haru meanders into the kitchen after spending all morning in the garden. She goes into the pantry, grabs a bag of tea, and waits for the water to boil. Ann sits across from her, and the two nod at each other.

“Good morning, Ann,” Haru smiles, tracing the teacup’s lip.

Ann stretches and cracks her knuckles. “Morning… you feeling any better after what happened a couple weeks ago?”

“I’m doing okay. I’m still taking it easy, but honestly, I need to garden to keep myself sane with the apocalypse happening beneath us.”

“At least you’re sane. You seem to have a pretty good routine. Get up early, garden, morning cup of tea… wait, you haven’t even prepared yourself something to eat?”

“I did,” Haru assures, “Before I went out to garden.”

“Oh. Smart.”

That’s when the kettle finally starts to whistle. Haru stands up, brings the vessel over to the kitchen table, and pours it into the cup. Then she waits for the tea to steep.

Ann takes a moment to waft the smell to her and she winces.

“That’s a little bitter, don’t you think?” she asks, concerned.

“It smells more like camellia to me. That’s what most green teas are made of,” Haru answers, leaning back in her chair.

“I could go for some, too, actually. But I’m getting a different one.” Ann then stands up and enters the pantry. She notices some jasmine tea and takes a bag of it. After taking a teacup, she pours the hot water in and waits for it to steep. “But maybe I’m being paranoid when I say I don’t trust what you’re drinking.”

“What makes you say that?” Haru takes a small sip.

“The smell seemed off, even by green tea standards. My nose doesn’t feel right either.”

“Maybe you’re having a bad reaction to something.”

“Maybe,” Ann then tries the jasmine tea, which seems normal. “I’m going to trust your judgment for now, but I’m still worried.”

Then Haru notices something on Ann’s hand and takes a closer look at it. 

Skin irritation?

“Did you touch anything you’re allergic to?”

“I don’t think I did. I did my skincare and makeup routine as usual.”

“Odd. It doesn’t look too bad, so maybe it’ll wear off after a bit. Try a cold compress.”

Ann finishes her drink, cleans up after herself, and leaves to apply a cold compress to her hand.

Once the compress is attached to her hand, she starts looking through Dracula’s library in search of answers. 

That’s when she comes across an encyclopedia of Mediterranean and Eastern European plants. It’s massive, though, it could take days to figure out the answer.

Ann sighs and decides that it’s for Haru. She sits at a desk with the book and starts to pore over its pages.

She’s at this for what feels like hours before Leaf enters the room and looks over her shoulder.

“AH!” Ann yelps, only to calm down, “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry,” Leaf squeaks, toying with her hair.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, all you did was spook me.”

“What are you doing?” Leaf leans over, getting a good look at what Ann is reading.

“So, Haru had her cup of tea like usual, right?”

“Always.”

“I was curious about what she was drinking and chose to waft the steam to me,” Ann gestures to indicate the act of wafting. “But it smelled a bit strong even for green tea, and the fumes did this to my hand.”

Leaf tilts her head and looks at what’s under the cold compress. “Hm, it looks sort of like some bad skin irritation.”

“I know. It isn’t getting better, though.”

“I have an idea, but you might think I’m crazy.”

“Hey, whatever works.”

Without any elaboration, Leaf takes a pecha berry from her bag and hands it over. “Eat.”

“The whole thing?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Trust me on this. Please?”

“Fine…”

Ann hesitates for a moment and takes a bite out of the fruit. Surprisingly sweet, with some light tang, like what she’d expect from a fresh in-season peach back home. Before she even gets the chance to process what’s going on, she’s eaten the entire thing.

“There,” Leaf smiles and offers a napkin, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No. If I knew it tasted that good, I would’ve eaten it in one bite. But, why did you give the berry to me, anyway?”

Leaf then looks at Ann’s hand-- the skin irritation is gone. “AHA! That’s why!”

“What did it do?”

“Pecha berries cure poison. When you ate it, the skin irritation left. Look.”

Though suspicious, Ann looks at her arm. Sure enough, she’s cured. “Wow. The stuff acts fast. I don’t think I can thank you enough.”

“Of course. Most of the berries do. It’s why I eat one of these each morning,” she explains, removing a chesto berry from her bag. “Dad lets me grow my berries in the garden because they’re both good for eating and fast-acting medicines.”

“That’s super cool, but… oh…”

“What?”

“Oh no.”

“What, what is it?”

“Haru actually DRANK the tea! If that berry cures poison, and the irritation was from poisoning…”

The two look at each other in horror and scramble to the kitchen to see what exactly Haru had put in her teacup that morning.

Chapter Text

“HARU!” Ann shouts once she sees her friend in the garden again. “Haru! There you are! Are you okay?! Are you sick?”

“Ann, Ann, calm down. I think I’m fine. I don’t feel too different,” Haru hesitates, “I think? What has you so upset?”

“So remember the irritated skin from earlier today?”

“Yes, I remember. What about it?”

“So Leaf fed me one of her medicine berries while I was reading, and the irritation left almost immediately.”

“And?”

“And the one she ate cures poison,” Leaf adds, gesturing to a bush of pecha berries.

“What does that mean?”

“You drank poison by accident.”

Haru’s eyes widen a bit, and she realizes in horror, as if something finally makes sense. “Well… things are starting to make sense. I…” She stumbles a bit before she can respond, and Ann catches her before she can fall.

“Come on, come on, we gotta get you to lay down,” Ann pleads, walking Haru to the library. She lays her friend down on a fainting couch and starts by checking her pulse. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, her pulse-”

“Calm down. Is it there?” Leaf asks, rooting through her things.

“It’s there, it’s just weak.”

“Okay. Haru. Can you hear me?”

She lazily nods in response.

“Okay. Good. How many fingers am I holding up?” Leaf holds up two fingers.

“Six…? No, three? My head…”

“Okay, not good, not good. I mean, not great. We need to find Dad, now.”

“Who…?” Haru asks, her voice weakening.

“Dracula,” Ann answers as calmly as she can.

“Ann, you go look for him. I’ll try to get her to eat a pecha berry. It’s not likely, because she could probably lack an appetite.”

Without another moment of hesitation, Ann nods and breaks into a run towards Dracula’s study.

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

Once Ann makes it to the study, she skids to a halt and knocks on the door frantically. “Dracula?! Dracula! Help!” She begs, on the brink of tears.

Dracula leaves the room immediately and asks as calmly as possible, “What happened?”

“Haru. Very sick. Poisoned. Help!”

“Okay, take me to her. Urgently.”

Ann takes Dracula by the hand and moves as fast as she can.

When the two get there, Dracula’s ears drop ever so slightly, and he gets in close to gauge the situation.

Leaf looks over at Dracula and asserts, “We know for sure it’s poison. Drowsy. Confused. Nauseated. Headache. Loss of Appetite. Won’t eat.”

He asks, referring to the berry in Leaf’s hand, “Did she try to eat that?” 

“I tried, she said she feels too sick.”

“Alright, so the immediate option isn’t available right now. Nobody here panic. Ann. Go to the medical wing, retrieve a gurney, asap.”

Ann bolts off again to do as she’s told. Dracula then moves Haru onto her side in case of vomiting. “Do we know what she ate?”

“Drank. Tea, from this morning.”

“Alright… and she might’ve gotten more throughout the day as per her usual schedule. What do we know about the actual drink?”

“I think Ann knows more about it; she was there when Haru made it.”

“We’ll have to wait for her to return, then.”

As if right on cue, Ann zooms back like she’s never run in her life and nearly trips on the stone floor. Dracula delicately moves Haru to the gurney, and the four make a beeline for the medical wing.

Dracula moves her to a hospital bed and takes a blood sample. He passes the syringe to Leaf. “Hold this.”

“Okay.”

Dracula swiftly adds an IV drip of activated carbon and takes the syringe back. “You, you, wait here and keep an eye on Haru. You,” he points to Ann, “Use your phone, tell Ren, Morgana, and Ganondorf. This is an emergency. I need all eyes and all hands on deck.”

“On it!” She announces, tapping away at her cell phone.

“Good, I’ll try to be back as quickly as I can, but toxicology can take time.”

“Okay. I’m trusting you to be able to save her.”

“I’ll try not to let you down.”

He strides to his laboratory as fast as he can while still being careful. He shouts to a lesser demon to get its attention, “You!”

“Yes, sir?”

“Check my poison storage. Now. If she got into one of my poisoned teas by accident, there should be some of it missing, and the doors not working right. It should have been locked.”

“I understand.”

“Check. NOW!”

With the sudden yelling, the demon scrambles away to check. Once in his laboratory, Dracula starts to run toxicology tests.

He paces in anticipation of the results.

Hoping this time that the tests will be over quickly.

She has to live this time.

She has to.

He promised she’d make it out of this alive.

Systematic toxicological analysis.

Finally, the first test is done.

Okay, good. We have a good start.

Obviously, it did test positive for poisoning. Then he performs the more specific tests and waits for a reaction.

“Come on… we’re on borrowed time here.”

“Sir?” a voice calls from the door.

“What?!”

“The poison stores.”

“What about them?”

“The oleander tea. One short.”

“I…” Dracula takes a deep breath. “I knew something was wrong. What of the door that kept the poisons out of reach?”

“Mysteriously unlocked. Whoever did this left the key in the hole,” the demon explains, passing the key back to Dracula for safekeeping.

“Okay. Okay. Not ideal. Not ideal.” The test is finally complete and fully confirms his suspicions. “We’ll have to determine who did this later. I’ll consult with Chaos once Haru is stable.”

Chapter Text

Dracula hurries back to the others and notices Ganondorf has already provided breathing support and started up the EKG. He claps Ganondorf’s shoulder and sits at a desk. Without another word, he holds out the results of the tests. Ren is the first to look at them. Testing positive for poisons, and then all of the tests taken to confirm it was indeed poisoning, and finally, what the suspected poison must’ve been based on the number of poisons in stock, and based on her reported symptoms.

“So,” Ren trembles, “Where do we go from here?”

Dracula stands up and takes a deep breath. “All we can do right now is keep putting activated carbon in her system and pray it flushes out. All things considered, though, she actually has a good prognosis. Poisonings like this aren’t inherently deadly unless the dose is big enough or consistent enough. With her dosage, she should be stable by the time the half-life of the poison passes. At most, that will take three days.”

Ann asks this time, “So what do we do after?”

“Keep an eye on her. She will still need time to recover. Especially keep an eye on what she is eating or drinking. So the pantry. Who here is aware I have poison storage in there?” Everyone raises their hands, “Good, that means I don’t have to explain. When someone checked the poison storage, it was revealed that it wasn’t just unlocked; the perpetrator left the key in the lock.”

“So, now what?”

“I think we should remain as calm as we reasonably can. If we all panic and turn on each other, nothing good will come of it. That being said, if you go inside the pantry again and see the poison storage open again, tell me. If I’m not directly there, tell either Ganondorf or the closest monster to you. Write it down, too, including the time and date. I'll put extra security on the poison storage, too. This should also lessen the likelihood of this happening again.”

“So, for now, we should pretty much go about our lives like usual?”

“Precisely. This was only a mere panic compared to anything else. That being said, I will see the rest of you later. I have an investigation to open up and keys to take from my highest-ranked employees.”

Dracula then nods to excuse himself and leaves for his study.

Once there, he nearly closes the door, only to notice Ganondorf had followed him.

“Did you need something? Or do you mean to help with the investigation?”

“I want to help,” Ganondorf explains, “If someone here is poisoning people, two masterminds are better than one.”

“Fair enough.”

After Dracula closes the door behind Ganondorf, he takes some incense and cleanses the space. Only to place the sticks in an incense holder on the table in the center of the room. A deck of cards is taken from its spot on a shelf, and after sitting on the floor in front of the table, Dracula mindlessly shuffles.

He chants to himself as if this ritual has been recited often.

Confused, Ganondorf sits on the other side of the table. The deck is then set in front of Dracula, and he sketches a summoning circle in chalk. It’s so quick that Ganondorf starts to wonder how many times he’s done this. Between the specific shuffling and the speed of the summoning circle, it must've been hundreds, if not thousands of times.

Once the circle is complete, the room around them turns completely grey.

Dracula, not even looking up from the table, starts with an echo to his voice, “Welcome to the chaotic realm.”

“We’re there? But it looks almost the exact same as your castle.”

“Yes, that’s true. But we are in the chaotic realm. Look outside.”

Not sure what to think, Ganondorf stands up and approaches the only window in the room. It’s supposed to be dark outside. Well, it is dark out, but more like the vacuum of space as opposed to the night sky. Distorted stars and galaxies float by as if they were clouds. He looks at his hands, as if surprised they didn’t change color upon entry. He sits back down, visibly confused.

“This is the source of my power, and we’re here for a specific purpose,” Dracula dictates, shuffling the cards again. This time, he spreads the cards in a circle around the sketch that brought them here. “Usually, we would be able to enter through a portal. In the room next to the throne room. But Chaos is infamously hard to communicate with. Hence the cards. He reveals them there, and I interpret.”

“And this is going to help the investigation?”

“Precisely. All of my employees are connected to Chaos in their own way. Sometimes through me, other times by their mere nature. If anyone would know who did this, it would be him.”

Before Ganondorf can ask any more questions, a trio of orbs hover over the summoning circle. Dracula focuses on them and, after taking a deep breath, holds both of his hands to them. As if trying to focus his energy on them.

“Chaos, antithesis to God, I humbly sit before you in search of guidance,” Dracula chants, “I request the aid of your eye for answers.”

The orbs stop moving and gather into a black mass, glowing ever so slightly blue.

Dracula then lowers his hands and deeply bows enough for his face to touch the table. Ganondorf promptly follows suit-- he doesn’t know what will happen if he doesn’t.

Silence.

Dracula rolls his eyes and folds his arms. “He said he was here to help, so yes, I brought him with me,” He motions to Ganondorf. 

Still more silence. The lovers card is lazily tossed to Dracula, who puts it back in place.

“I’ve told you, he isn’t a threat. And don’t call him that, it’s not like that.”

“Yes, I’m serious. We’ll talk about it after the infection back in the mortal plane is all over with.”

“To get to brass tacks, though. Someone broke into my poison storage, and I was wondering if you had any idea who it could possibly be.”

A card is swiftly pushed to Dracula, who flips it over. “Queen of Wands. Reversed. So it must stem from jealousy. Could you elaborate on that?”

The High Priestess is next.

“Camilla? I wonder what… wait a minute. She must be trying to get my attention. She probably wants things to go back to how they used to be, before I got caught up in parenting. Right?”

Reversed Death.

“Right on the dot. Is there anything else you wanted to say?”

The mass stops and deeply considers something, then a card is slowly moved to Dracula. The slow response seems to visibly unsettle Dracula. He picks up the card. The World.

“Something big is coming. Did something go wrong?”

The Empress, reversed. The art has changed to Palutena.

“What happened to her?”

Reversed Fool.

“Oh no. She’s affected by this, too? How bad is it? Are we safe?”

Reversed Justice, then Strength.

“I shouldn’t worry, then, for now. Good. She hasn’t even left her sanctuary, then? So why are you so afraid?”

The Fool is turned so it's no longer reversed. The art also changes to people being lured away by an angel.

“So whoever is working with her isn’t infected, but could be looking for others. Okay. I’ll keep my eyes open and be ready for an attack. I’ll also tell my forces to be ready just in case. Is that all?”

Silence.

“I understand--?” Dracula leans to the side and sees a card tossed to Ganondorf. “That message is for you.”

Ganondorf picks it up, and it's the lovers card again.

“Haha. Funny. I think we all have our answers for now. Thank you.”

The mass disappears and changes back into the three orbs, which promptly leave. Once Dracula gathers the cards back up and sweeps the sketch away, the world around them returns to normal.

“So, allegedly, one of my higher-ranked generals is behind this. I’ll have a word with her.”

“Alright. I’ll keep an eye on Haru in case she tries anything while you’re occupied.”

“Thank you.”

The two stand up, nod at each other, and leave to go their separate ways.