Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Warning!

Main Couple: Michael Kaiser x Itoshi Rin
Secondary Couples: Shidou Ryusei x Itoshi Sae; Nagi Seishirou x Mikage Reo
Tags: Fantasy; Kaiser is not human, Rin is human (Shidou’s objections are ineffective); light humor; out-of-character; Itoshies; lots of scene description; inner monologues; magical/fantasy elements; mild angst; mostly humorous situations; fluffy moments (if you squint); comedic scene depictions; happy Itoshi family; playful antics; climaxes come later; slow-paced storyline with many characters.

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“Remember this well: never, under any circumstances, set foot near the castle in the northern reaches of Zonara Forest. Whether you wander astray, are thrown there, or even happen to hear strange sounds drifting from within, you must – listen carefully – shut your eyes, cover your ears, mutter a prayer, and run straight ahead. Do not look back. Because that place belongs to the... descendants of Medusa.”

Again.

Rin let out a sigh. He had lost count of how many times he’d been told that tale since childhood. The storytellers at taverns, the bun-seller at the street corner, even his own brother – every single one of them, at least once, had warned him against setting foot in “the domain,” “the cursed land,” or “the dwelling place of the gods,” whatever name they chose to dress it in.

At six years old, Rin had almost believed it. He would jolt awake in the middle of the night, compelled to check the window again and again to be certain it was locked – because his room’s window faced directly toward the northern forest of Zonara. God bless the carpenter who built it that way; his mother nearly went to war with the man for it.

But Rin was sixteen now. Hearing that old legend again only made him want to laugh. Nothing more than a children’s scare story. These days, his window stood wide open every night. Thinking back, Rin wanted nothing more than to slap the back of his six-year-old self’s head – that little idiot who would rather swelter in the stifling attic than enjoy the cool night breeze, all because he was afraid the “descendants of Medusa” might slip in.

Foolish. Utterly foolish.

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The problem is – why the hell did this warning just pop up in his head now?

Because, for crying out loud, he really is wandering around the northern part of Zonara Forest.

Damn it.

It wasn’t even on purpose, seriously. All of this was because of that cursed golden cockroach – Shidou Ryusei. That bastard. That idiot. That unbearable nuisance. Self-proclaimed “divine lover without title” of Sae. He kept buzzing around Rin – well, around Sae, to be exact. But Sae is Rin’s brother, his actual blood brother, and Rin would always stay by his side just to make sure that cockroach didn’t suddenly pounce and sink its teeth into his brother’s face.

But Sae – God, Sae, I hate you – actually said: “Rin, give us some privacy.”

Privacy my ass, you shitty brother.

And so Rin got kicked straight out of the house with the order: “Go hang out somewhere, don’t come back before seven.” The way Shidou looked after him, eyes glinting with both mockery and challenge, practically screamed right into Rin’s face: “Haha, Dindin, loser!”

In that moment, Rin honestly felt one hair’s breadth away from being tied up in a sack and thrown into the river by the villagers for attempted murder.

Only heaven knows what supernatural force kept a leash on his sanity before he snapped it himself. But the truth was: Rin had actually wandered out of his own damn house, just to give those bastard brothers some so-called “precious privacy.” He didn’t even want to stay inside and risk witnessing any eye-melting scenes they might create together. Trust him, you do not wanna know – Rin swears on Shidou’s honor, which, let’s be real, doesn’t even exist.

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But… haha. Go out and hang around where, exactly?

The number of people Rin could interact with without either punching them in the face or getting ganged up on could be counted on one hand. Rin was someone nearly impossible to talk to – hell, you could say downright unbearable in every possible sense of the words antisocial and weirdo. The line he heard most often from the other kids in the village was:

“Itoshi Rin, you… you… you no-play… no-friends…ughh... no-nothing kid!!”

Rin, about seven or eight years old – utterly different from the other kids, who thought “friendless” were the greatest punishment, thanks to their poor excuse of a vocabulary – would immediately snap back:

“I don’t give a damn about playing with idiots like you – weak, useless crybabies – and look at you! You don’t even know how to wash your hands properly. Trim your nails, you filthy pigs!!”

And then, one of two things would happen: either Sae would suddenly appear and smack him painfully on the head, or their father – just coming home from work at the wrong time – would witness his younger son standing there, shrieking like a madman as he tried to take on eight kids at once… only for Rin to earn yet another painful smack on the head.

Rin never accepted it, but he learned his lesson: next time, yell shorter, quieter, and use only adjectives.

If he got lucky, it worked. If not… two smacks instead of one. The unspoken law of childhood.

As he got older, the situation flipped: when words failed, violence took the throne. Instead of long, pointless verbal battles, there were now punches, kicks, hair-pulling, and clothes-tearing like some over-the-top jealousy drama. Every other week, Rin would drag himself home, exhausted, disheveled, a complete mess – but… always victorious. Of course, he always won.

And right after that, another duel would begin – this time with his own brother.

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In short, his relationships with classmates had nothing warm or neighborly about them. Only sarcastic, cutting remarks that could make anyone cry (though, naturally, not Rin), and friendly-looking collisions that were anything but friendly. So when Sae said, “Go hang out,” Rin had only two possible destinations in mind.

One was the village guild hall – the busiest place in all of Fenir. Surrounding it were crowded markets, food stalls, and taverns, a constant mix of smells that could either make you turn away in disgust or charge straight in: some cloyingly sweet, like burnt candy, some rank and pungent, like the failures of creation itself. His mother had strictly warned him never to go near it until he was old enough, so Rin still couldn’t tell whether that scent was ripe peaches or fermented pineapple.

The guild hall contained all sorts of spaces: dull offices stuffed with hunting gear that Rin had once been “honored” to visit – for a single, excruciating session of periodic cleaning; a wide room where the village chief and deputy chief would gather to drone on endlessly about crops and livestock; and a few small guest rooms for wandering visitors to rent temporarily.

But none of that mattered. For Rin, there was only one place worth anything: the highest room, at the very top of the guild hall. Officially, it was the village kids’ reading room. In reality, after Rin had nearly single-handedly “politely evicted” everyone else, it had become his personal domain.

The room offered a rare, almost 360-degree panoramic view. From here, he could survey the entire village: the cornfields just starting to bloom – don’t let that sound picturesque if you’re allergic to pollen and nearly dying from coughing in that thick haze; the winding Smue River surrounding the village like a costly silk ribbon; and somewhere on the hillside, little white dots scurrying about – sheep, well-fed and plump, ambling lazily over lush grass.

And best of all – the vast, majestic Zonara Forest could be seen in all its glory, neatly captured within his gaze.

Rin now lived in a small village called Fenir, practically a self-contained territory, isolated from most of the outside world. Occasionally, a small merchant would come to trade curious items from the capital or other valleys, but such visits were rare. Partly because Fenir wasn’t very prosperous, and mostly – always mostly – because the village was encircled on all sides by the dense, impenetrable Zonara Forest.

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The stories Rin’s mother told him every night when he was little usually praised the people who came before, the ones who discovered and laid the foundations for Fenir as it was now – how it was built, how it ran, the brilliant policies they supposedly enacted. Rin didn’t care about any of that. He only listened to the beginnings… and the scary legends:

“Back then, the first village chief and his family were hunted by bandits. They ran and ran, almost collapsing, but couldn’t escape. When they were finally cornered deep in the forest, with no way out, all he could do was hold his family tight, close his eyes, and wait for the cold blade to strike… But strangely, the pain never came. When they opened their eyes, in front of them… the bandits had turned to stone. Rigid bodies, faces twisted in terror, as if they had just seen the most horrifying thing in their lives…”

Little Rin, curious, lifted his head: “Is… is that Medusa everyone talks about, Mom?”

His mother smiled, gently stroking his hair: “People say that, dear. But no one’s ever really seen it. Only a few legends say that a shadow moves through the treetops, as fast as the wind, making a sharp, piercing sound, living in an abandoned castle far to the North, ready to turn anyone who trespasses to stone…”

Rin, stubborn as ever, had to know everything: “What does that person look like?”

This time, his mother thought a bit longer, then suddenly remembered and clapped her hands: “I think… that person had golden hair!”

“Golden hair…?” Poor little Rin. From that moment on, he developed an unshakable habit of avoiding anyone with blazing blond hair – and locking his door at night – not once, not twice, but four times over.

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In short, the topmost room of the guild hall offered a sweeping view of that dark, mysterious forest. Coupled with the legends surrounding it, most people rarely ventured northward; even the faint-hearted kids wouldn’t dare glance in that direction. But Rin was different. He was fascinated by the shadowy North, where the fog was so thick it only revealed tiny glimpses, as if teasing him. Whether it was imagination or not, Rin genuinely thought he could make out the outline of a massive castle flickering in and out of view.

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Then there was the second choice for his unwilling little outing: “Nagi’s house” – yes, Nagi Seishiro, one of the few poor souls Rin could actually call a friend. Their meeting? Pure cosmic bad luck. The first time they met… they nearly drowned.

No joke.

It was a “martial arts exchange” day for the twelve- and thirteen-year-olds. Rin, obviously, wasn’t about to skip it – how else would he demonstrate his passion? But that cursed Yaito – yeah, the one the heavens must have hated – picked the spot right by the Smue River. Result? In the middle of the scuffle, someone slipped and plunged straight into the water.

No, it wasn’t Rin. Come on, he wasn’t dumb enough to misstep like that. But the other kid? Absolutely. One slip, and he flailed helplessly, quickly tiring. The rest of the nervous fools just screamed and cried while the poor kid nearly sank. Seriously? Living next to a river and you can’t swim?? But everything happened too fast. Rin could only shout:

“DAMN IT, CALL THE ADULTS, IDIOTS! DON’T JUST FUCKING STAND THERE!!”

Before he could even see if anyone moved, Rin plunged straight in, propelling himself toward the frothing, bubbling water where the kid was being dragged away. The cold cut like knives, the current pulled him off course, but Rin gritted his teeth, kicking and paddling hard toward the idiot being swept downstream.

It took every bit of strength just to grab the kid’s head. He’d swallowed enough water to nearly pass out. Rin’s tiny body strained, one arm clutching the kid, forcing him up to the surface, clawing and paddling back to shore. With the earlier fight and a body twice his size to carry, Rin bobbed under multiple times – almost taking both of them down – but somehow, stubborn as ever, he kept going.

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Near the shore, the big guy was finally being hauled out by his friends. Rin stayed in the water, a little exhausted, but letting out a small sigh of relief. He was just about to climb onto the bank when…

BANG!!

A loud splash erupted right beside him, water flying everywhere. Rin only had time to see something white jump into the water next to him, thrashing a few times… and then nothing. His heart leapt into his throat. Before he could collect himself or catch his breath, he dove down again, searching for it, dragging it up.

A person – a boy with ivory-white hair, wet bangs plastered together. When Rin finally dragged him to the shore, he himself climbed out, collapsing as if dead. No, for a moment, Rin truly felt his soul leave his body.

After a while, when Rin finally forced his eyes open, he met a pair of cold gray eyes, wide with curiosity – the damn kid who had just added another burden to Rin. Rin had only enough energy to glare; too tired to lecture the tiny brain of this idiot, but clearly, his look conveyed the message perfectly: “Get lost, you jerk, before I beat you senseless.”

The white-haired boy, blessed be, simply blinked once, then calmly said: “I’m Nagi Seishirou. I saw you looked tired and thought I’d jump in to pull you up…”  – he paused for a moment, casually scratching his head – “I forgot… I don’t actually know how to swim either.”

THE IDIOT!! WHO ASKED FOR THIS??

Rin was so furious… he fainted.

The next thing he knew, the first thing hitting his eyes was his ceiling… and Sae’s cold blue eyes staring him down – so intently that Rin just wanted to pretend to faint again and be done with it.

The result of his heroic rescue? Rin got spanked by Sae. Twice.

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After that day – by some miracle nobody could explain – the two of them stuck together like shadows. Nagi – the same culprit who had almost drowned Rin on their first meeting – turned out to be a newcomer from another region. He told Rin all sorts of strange things: endless rolling plains, horses galloping like the wind, green meadows stretching to the horizon, and customs that sounded half ridiculous, half fascinating.

Rin wasn’t exactly selfish either. He taught Nagi how to swim, how to fight, and even carefully showed him how to insult people in the shortest, most biting, most painful way possible. Fair trade.

In short, Nagi became the first friend Rin willingly allowed himself… to visit. But today, Rin showed up only to be greeted by a stupid little note:

“Rin, I’m out playing with Reo. Remember to water Choki for me. –x–”

Rin’s mouth twitched. Again. The same refrain: “…out playing with Reo, don’t bother me.” Someone, please, just burn this rotten world down already.

Mikage Reo – the ridiculously wealthy, obnoxiously rich merchant who, one day, happened to stroll by and decided to plop a massive house right in the village, taking up an entire corner. Somehow, he had declared himself “Nagi’s no.1 friend” and “Rin’s no.2 friend,” casually inserting himself into Rin’s personal “inner circle.”

The problem? The so-called “no.1 and no.2 friends” constantly clung to each other like barnacles, then disappeared, leaving the original “friend” abandoned, wandering alone on the outskirts.

The bastards!!!

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Quack… quack…

A sharp, piercing cry cut ruthlessly through Rin’s wandering thoughts. He jolted, snapping his head up. Nothing was there – just the wind threading through the canopy, rustling endlessly. Nameless trees stretched high, their branches sprawling like giant arms, blocking most of the sunlight. Occasionally, a stronger gust passed through, shaking the leaves and letting stray patches of light fall to the ground, rippling faintly like water on a silent river.

Poetic, if you could see more than five meters. But with visibility swallowed by thick fog, you’d be crying without tears. Rin shivered, questioning whatever force had pushed him into this situation. All he remembered was a strange owl, a weird marking on a tree, and… his own thick skull that apparently didn’t know how to spell the word “fear.” And now here he was, in the middle of Zonara Forest – probably the northern part – surrounded by a frightening haze.

He bit his lip, silently hoping Sae and Shidou would finally realize that their poor little brother, kicked out of the house by them, was actually missing, and not just generously giving them another day of “private time.” Rin muttered to himself, trying to calm down, and stepped forward. He couldn’t distinguish the path or any sense of direction, but at least he had left markings on the trees along the way. And, lucky for him, at least he was still moving forward. Whether “forward” meant deeper into the forest or toward escape, well… that was up to fate.

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About thirty more minutes – Rin had been stumbling through the forest for nearly an hour and a half, exhausted to the point where every step felt like dragging his entire body along. The scary part wasn’t the fatigue – it was that he still hadn’t seen a way out. The fog, already thick, seemed to congeal, clinging to his clothes like a wet sheet. He had to feel his way forward with both hands and feet, tracing every root, groping every tree trunk. Sometimes his foot slipped, nearly sending him face-first into the ground; sometimes his hand brushed against something slimy and slick, making him freeze in terror, only to tell himself it was better to be a wet branch than some slippery, wriggling creature.

Damn. Creepy as hell.

With the unmistakable air of someone clearly courting death, Rin stubbornly pressed on. If he was going to die anyway, he wanted to know if the damn legend was real. And if it was… well, great – one poke and poof, turned to stone, no drama, no pain, a perfect death, exactly what you’re looking for.

Rumble… rumble…

As if to decorate his impending demise, thunder began rolling in the sky, each bolt slicing across the heavens, flashing cold, sharp light. Rin exhaled, eyes darkening. Damn it, don’t mess with me.

Tap...tap...

The heavens were really mocking him – when they said rain, they meant it. One drop, two drops… and then as if a dam had burst, the rain came pouring down in torrents. Even the thick canopy couldn’t shield him; the droplets stung his face. In just a few short minutes, Rin felt as if he’d risen from a swamp of failure. His black hair plastered to his head, water streaming down his face in a maddening cycle: wipe it away, it’s back, rinse, repeat. Rin frowned, utterly powerless, forced to fumble forward, clinging to the faint hope of finding an exit – or at least a cave to hide from the rain. He was smart enough to know that wandering a dense forest in the middle of a storm was absurd. And Rin wasn’t absurd.

And so, a lone figure slipped between the towering trees, groping his way step by step, disappearing behind the thick undergrowth.

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Ruunh… ruuunh…

Rin froze, his whole body tensing, every muscle coiling – partly from the cold, partly from… what lay before him.

Slash… Crack!! Another bolt of lightning tore across the sky. In that rare flash, the thick, murky fog ripped apart, and right in front of him – a castle appeared. Ancient. Majestic. Heavy, as if it had stood there for a thousand years, roots sinking deep into the damp earth.

The lightning faded, and the castle vanished into the darkness again, like a mirage. But Rin knew he wasn’t imagining it: there it was, looming before him, a massive door, thick and weighty, its surface covered in swirling, intricate carvings. The twisted patterns seemed almost alive, writhing under the brief flash of lightning.

A castle. In the northern part of Zonara Forest.

Rin shivered, goosebumps rising across his skin.

Damn it.

His mind spun. Voices overlapped in his head – his mother’s stern warnings, stray adult stories he’d overheard, scattered rumors of a place no one dared approach. All of it, combined with the overwhelming sight before him, wrapped around him like an invisible chain.

The tension built to a breaking point, constricting his chest. He muttered, voice trembling, hoarse and foreign to him:

“…This… could it really be? The dwelling of – ”

The words broke off, stuck in his throat. He didn’t dare finish. In that moment, every sense screamed, red warning lights flashing in his mind like a relentless alarm: Don’t speak. Don’t look. Don’t think. This is not right.

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Since he was little, Rin had been fascinated by strange things: flipping through old, faded books to glimpse mythical creatures, or sneaking eavesdrops on drunken uncles in taverns as they muttered ghost stories in hoarse voices. But this was different. This wasn’t hearing tales or imagining them on paper – it was firsthand, tangible participation in a mystery. And it made him want to both dive in headfirst… and turn tail and run.

Rin stood rooted before the door for nearly ten minutes, eyes locked onto it as if the moment he blinked, it would vanish, dissolving into the rain and fog. But nothing happened. None of the scenarios his brain had conjured to prepare for sudden danger – like the door transforming into a gaping mouth to swallow him whole, or a mutated tree stretching long roots to hang him until he rotted to bones, or better yet, the “descendant of Medusa” appearing to silently turn this tiny, foreign intruder into a worthless stone – none of it came true.

Nothing at all.

Finally, the restless agitation inside him, mixed with the cold of rain seeping through his clothes, faded into a strange, hollow disappointment – (how could he feel disappointed? Who even cares?). Rin drew in a breath, grasping at the last scraps of rational thought. Wait… what if this was just an ordinary abandoned castle? What if all the rumors were nothing more than people spinning tall tales? He muttered to himself, frowning, scolding his own daydreaming for expecting some legendary creature to appear and show off its powers.

Rin moved forward slowly, each step heavier with water and fog, stopping just in front of the door. The raised patterns were still there, intertwined and overlapping, and Rin began… to feel sorry for such awful aesthetics, like a clumsy drawing by a child. He grumbled, yet couldn’t look away, scanning for anything unusual – a sign that something wasn’t normal. Finding nothing, he sighed and finally reached out his hand.

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His arm stretched through the curtain of rain, water dripping down his forearm. Even before he fully touched it – just being near – the skin on his hand registered the strange cold of the material: a deep chill, like metal sucking away heat. His fingers trembled slightly, chest tightening.

His mind began its tug-of-war: one part of him instinctively urging him to turn and flee from this cursed place – after all, an abandoned castle was never safe; another part reminding him that if he stayed in the rain any longer, he’d either catch hypothermia or worse; and a tiny, reckless part inside was thrilled, shouting: “Come on, come on, we’re as good as dead anyway – let’s see what’s in there!!”

Rin bit his lip, gathering every ounce of determination, pressing his hand firmly against the icy surface and pushing with all his strength.

Creak… screeeech… – a high-pitched, grating sound like rusted metal wailing. The door remained stubbornly heavy, refusing to budge even an inch. Rin gritted his teeth, muscles taut, every fiber of his arm straining, his entire body pressing into the effort.

Finally, the massive block yielded, moving inch by inch, revealing a black gap like an eye slowly opening after a long sleep. A low, rumbling groan echoed through the forest, announcing that a stranger had forced his way in. The door creaked wider, seemingly surrendering reluctantly, giving Rin passage into a territory long asleep – and clearly, never welcoming outsiders.

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CRACK!

A thunderclap exploded, tearing across the sky and making the entire window frame shudder.

Inside, a room came into view – slightly antique in style, yet adorned with extravagance so over-the-top it bordered on absurd. From the ceiling, a massive chandelier dangled clusters of jagged crystals, its dim light flickering and scattering chaotically across the dark, aged walls. In the corner, a round table bore a messy pile of golden cups and plates. The intricate carvings on the tabletop twisted and turned confusingly, evoking nothing elegant – only a sense of heaviness and tangled disorder.

Dominating the center of the room was an enormous bed. Its proportions were extraordinary: nearly four meters long and three meters wide, covered in a thick, oppressive blanket, deep red like settled wine. Beneath that blanket, a swelling form rose and fell in perfect, steady rhythm – almost unnaturally precise, like a machine set to a programmed cycle.

The thunder only made the mound stir slightly before falling silent again. The room quickly sank into stillness, broken only by that gentle, even breathing, weaving into the dense quiet to form a strange, unending rhythm.

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The door creaked open, and the first thing Rin saw was a pitch-black corridor, stretching endlessly into darkness. The faint light from outside – already blurred by the pouring rain – seemed to vanish the moment it passed the threshold, swallowed whole. The space was so silent that Rin could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his chest. He froze for a moment. No poisoned arrows shot from the shadows, no claws or dark shapes tore at his head, not even a growl warning him of intrusion – just a strange emptiness, and somehow, that made him feel slightly calmer.

At first, his plan had been simple: as an unauthorized intruder into a place where he didn’t even know what creatures existed, the safest option was not to venture too far. Sitting right next to the door would be wiser – shielded from the heavy rain outside, with an escape route ready if anything moved in the darkness.

Thinking this, Rin slowly lowered himself, back leaning against the iron door. But the metal was icy cold, jolting him awake, forcing him to inch away just enough to feel a partition behind him without pressing fully against it. His eyes stayed fixed on the dark corridor ahead, his body tense, ready to spring at the slightest sound.

One minute. Two minutes… then five. Nothing happened.

Nearly ten minutes passed in silence. Rin’s whole body began to shiver – not from fear, but from the cold seeping into every fiber of him. It was sharp and persistent, making his body tremble as if burning with fever, yet somehow he felt like he had been thrown into the Smue River in the middle of winter.

Rin began to take off his clothes. Even though he was wearing two layers, the rain was so heavy that both were soaked through. He struggled to remove his outer jacket, wringing it out, then slowly pulled off the long-sleeved shirt underneath, wringing that as well. Afterward, he quickly put them back on, the jacket hanging loosely over him like a fragile shield. It was only a temporary solution. At this rate, his body would soon give out.

Even more frightening: outside, the rain showed no sign of letting up. The heavy downpour pounded against the iron door, and Rin noticed the ground starting to soak up the water. Small puddles had formed, creeping through the gaps at the bottom, cold as fingers slithering toward him in the darkness.

Rin watched the spreading streaks of water slowly inch across the gray stone floor, letting out a reluctant sigh. Alright, then – time to move. Sitting by the door wasn’t saving anyone. He slowly stood, hands brushing along the hallway wall, feeling the erosion of time beneath his fingers, moving cautiously but deliberately deeper inside. The damp air hit his face, carrying the sharp tang of rust and heavy mold, making him clench his jaw tighter. Short, careful steps, yet decisive.

“Hopefully there’s a fireplace somewhere…” –  he muttered, his voice rough in the yawning darkness – “Or better… a set of clothes that hasn’t rotted away.”

His own words echoed down the corridor, as if someone far off were mocking him. Rin shivered slightly, but lifted his feet and kept going, straight ahead.

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The chandelier flickered, casting fractured light over the tangled heap of blankets. Then, suddenly, the bundle twitched – not the figure beneath, but something at the head, wriggling. At first, it was a tiny rise, barely noticeable, a gentle bulge that sank just as quietly. But second by second, the motion grew more urgent. The fabric swelled and dipped in an uneven rhythm, like water churned by unseen hands. From underneath came faint hissing, drawn-out and sharp – sss… sss… – annoyingly clear, almost demanding attention.

Without warning, a pale hand shot out from under the blankets, slapping down lightly on the trembling spot. Everything froze. The twitching stopped immediately. Silence reclaimed the room, thick and heavy.

Finally, a low groan of displeasure, lazy and bored, came from the blanket pile. A figure slowly sat up, the blankets sliding down gradually, revealing the top half of the creature. Clearly still half-asleep, it sat there for a long moment, saying nothing, not even opening its eyes, while the sound of rain battered against the windowpane.

After more than five minutes, the figure finally moved, rising slowly. Ignoring the blanket that had partially fallen onto the rug, it made its way toward a smaller room off to the side.

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Rin had no idea how long he had been walking – long enough that, if he turned back now, not a trace of the heavy iron door remained in sight, yet short enough that his hair was still slightly damp. His steps started to quicken, becoming hurried, almost panicked. The eerie silence of this place – the kind of stillness stretched tight like the surface of a lake before a storm – pushed him forward, even though the path ahead was thick, empty, and utterly useless, like Shidou the yellow cockroach’s brain.

Idle thoughts crept in. Had Sae and Shidou started to suspect yet? Rin was sure they hadn’t. He’d left the house at eight-thirty, detoured through the guild, swung by Nagi’s place, and now had gotten lost in this damned forest – only three hours had passed. Right now, that annoying older brother and the cockroach were probably holding hands, baking pastries together. Damn it!

Rin gritted his teeth, taking another determined step. His mind wandered again to his two “best friends” – the failed ones – and to the unthinkable vision: them frolicking across the southern meadow, sandwiches in hand, watching the sheep, giggling together. Double damn it!

As his mind wandered, Rin suddenly froze. Ahead of him, a soft, pale yellow light appeared – dim, yet in the pitch-black space before him, it shone like a lighthouse in the middle of the sea. His heart raced, his eyes brightened, and his breath quickened.

Light! By all that was holy, he swore he would never, ever turn off his nightlight again – if there was a “later” to speak of.

Though his instincts screamed to rush forward, Rin held himself steady. Step by step, he approached cautiously, letting excitement rise only in the background while his vigilance remained sharp. When he reached it, he realized: the light leaked from a slightly ajar door, forming a neat, golden square stretching across the hallway floor.

Rin stood outside, straining to hear any sound.

One minute… two minutes… nothing.

Complete silence. Only then did he slowly lean his head forward, trying to peek discreetly. It was a room – perhaps a living room or a dining hall. Ancient, yet far from ordinary, and… alive. Soft light emanated from small lamps scattered along the walls, each lamp adorned with a translucent blue gem. The golden light that fell on them transformed into a faint, eerie green, casting the room in a strange, almost hallucinatory glow.

On the walls hung pictures – or perhaps photographs; Rin wasn’t entirely sure. Their shapes were both abstract and bizarre, as if painted in a sleepwalking trance. All he could hope was that they were the drunken artistry of someone… rather than something truly grotesque and cursed – like, maybe an eye or a mouth that would wink or giggle at him as he walked by, only to vanish when he looked back. Who knows.

But the most striking feature in the room wasn’t the massive bed – it was a long table that took up nearly half the space across from it. On either side, two long chairs, upholstered in dark black leather with thick fur padding beneath. Rin squinted; the pale yellow light in the room wasn’t strong enough to reveal what kind of fur it was. It looked oddly soft and glossy, as if it had been meticulously brushed until it gleamed.

Draped casually across the table was a thick, bulky blanket, thrown as if the room’s owner had no concern for order whatsoever. Rin frowned, lips moving slightly, before he muttered to himself:

“Really… the twin of that damned yellow cockroach, huh…?”

His voice sounded dry and hollow in the vast space. But his gaze lingered on the mess for only a few seconds before being irresistibly drawn to a detail in stark contrast. On the table, amidst the chaos, stood a vase – so perfectly arranged it seemed almost unnatural, like a lone oasis in a desert of disorder. Inside, there was only one flower.

A single blue rose.

Rin froze.

His eyes widened, reflecting that peculiar shade of blue. Memories of books flashed through his mind like a sudden downpour – lines insisting that blue roses didn’t exist in nature, that they were nothing more than the futile longing of humanity. And yet here it was, right in front of him. The color was so alien that Rin found it hard to believe it belonged to this world.

Beautiful. Yet it carried a sense of caution that felt utterly unnatural.

The petals were delicate, as if a single hurried breath could make them vanish, in stark contrast with the long, sharp thorns jutting from the stem. Something so unreal in its beauty, Rin suddenly understood why it couldn’t exist in reality: if it did, humans would have greedily annihilated it, just to satisfy their desire to possess it.

Rin stared without blinking, letting himself be drawn into a maze of thoughts. Only when a faint, crisp sound reached him – tick… tick… – like fire catching dry wood, tiny pops clearly ringing out, did he startle and turn his head.

Rin’s eyes immediately lit up.

An old, large fireplace was roaring directly across from the long table. Flames danced, bright yellow, crackling as each log turned red-hot and split with a sharp pop. Earlier, Rin had been so captivated by the blue of the rose that he hadn’t even noticed it. Now, seeing it, he felt as if he had discovered a savior. It was like someone handing you a pillow just as you were about to fall asleep – unspeakable happiness.

A thrill ran through him, his body tingling as if freed from some burden. Only heaven knew how annoyed he had been with the sweat-dampened T-shirt clinging to his skin. The cold dampness felt like a thousand tiny needles, sticking to his back, chest, and shoulders… making Rin want to snap it off and throw it straight into the fire, watching it turn to ash.

He scanned the room, eyes sweeping over every corner, every gap. No one was there. Just the crackling of the fire blending with the gradually calming beat of his own heart. Rin remained cautious, glancing back toward the pitch-dark hallway behind him. Silent, endless, freezing cold.

No more hesitation – he stepped fully inside.

Breaking into someone else’s “home” was definitely forbidden, but the situation was somewhat unavoidable. If he could, Rin would apologize to the “owner” later, whether it was a person or some legendary creature.

He moved closer to the fireplace. Step by step, the warm air wrapped around him, like invisible hands soothing the tension in his skin. The closer he got, the stronger the heat became, until it stung his face enough to make him pause.

Taking a deep breath, he carefully removed his heavy, waterlogged coat. The weight of the soaked fabric slid off his shoulders and he placed it atop the fireplace. A thin layer of dust clung to his fingers; maybe his wet coat was “crying” too, but Rin didn’t care. At least it would help dry his shirt faster.

When his hand touched the damp long-sleeve shirt beneath, a flicker of hesitation passed. Half-naked in a stranger’s room, not knowing when – or if – someone might walk in – it felt strange just to think about it. But the damp fabric clinging to his skin made every breath cumbersome. Rin’s eyes flicked over and immediately caught the thick, messy blanket on the chair. After only a brief pause, he walked over and picked it up to examine it.

Thick, large, about 2x2 meters, carefully stuffed with cotton. Rin muttered to himself:

“Anyway… I’ve already committed the crime of breaking in, borrowing a blanket can’t make it worse, right?”

Of course, no one answered. Rin took that as the universe giving its approval. No more hesitation. He yanked the damp T-shirt off, the sticky, clinging sensation tearing away like a shackle finally dropped. A shiver ran down his spine – half from the cold air brushing his skin, half from the relief of shedding a long-held, annoying burden. Rin immediately wrapped himself tightly in the blanket. The thick fabric hugged him, the cotton inside puffed up, radiating gentle warmth, and his whole body felt immersed in softness and safety. He collapsed onto the thick rug beside the fireplace. The rug had the faint scent of old wool, but that very age made it comforting, as if it had been waiting for him to lie down.

A quiet hum escaped Rin’s throat, unclear whether it was dissatisfaction or contentment, but there was a clear trace of relief. His eyes remained fixed on the dancing flames. The fire flickered, orange and gold, flaring bright then dimming, as if it were breathing.

In that moment, Rin felt himself syncing with its rhythm. The blanket clung to his body, the warmth curling around him, gradually pushing away the lingering cold and damp. His muscles, tense from the long journey, softened, relaxed, each vertebra seeming to realign, lulling him into calm.

Rin blinked slowly, once, twice. This time, his eyelids felt heavier, compelled to close, even as he tried to cling to wakefulness. His breathing steadied, the drumming of the rain outside fading into the distance, leaving only the gentle crackle of the fire in his ears.

“Hmm… when I get home, I’ll have Nii-chan make one for my room too…”

He drifted, voice tight and mumbled, curling deeper into the blanket, lips letting out a vague sigh. At last, the sweet stillness and gentle warmth carried Rin away from reality, letting him slip slowly into the hazy space of sleep.

.

.

Rin didn’t know how long he had been asleep – it felt like forever, yet at the same time, as if he had only just closed his eyes – when a tingling sensation ran across his body, waking him. It was the alertness of someone trained from childhood, never sleeping deeply while a certain cockroach lurked in the house, ready to draw black lines across his face, and an older brother poised to hand over his room key as an accomplice. Rin stirred slightly, drowsily opening his eyes. A patch of light made him frown; he blinked several times, trying to refocus.

The first thing he saw was the magnificent chandelier, descending from glittering strands of crystal, casting faint rays of light that exuded a bizarrely lavish elegance. Rin muttered under his breath:

“Ew, what kind of taste is this…”

“Aristocratic, luxurious – something a commoner like you could never understand.”

A detached, emotionless voice suddenly rang out, making Rin startle, nearly sitting upright. The blanket shifted slightly, revealing part of his shoulder, and a wave of cold hit him. His brain, sluggish from fatigue, immediately triggered the alarm bells of sleep, reacting at full intensity.

Lost. North of Zonara Forest. Castle. Old room.

Instantly, a torrent of information surged into his mind like a tidal wave, yanking Rin out of the drowsy haze from moments before. His whole body tensed, hands gripping the edge of the blanket, heart pounding.

Someone!? Or maybe not a person – at least, this creature could speak human language. Was that lucky? Should he turn back? Was this the mysterious being from the legends? Could it be one of those “descendants of Medusa”? Would he instantly turn to stone if he met its gaze?

Rin’s throat felt parched, as if something had lodged there, making it impossible to swallow. The entire room, previously silent enough to hear the fire crackling in the hearth, now felt weighed down by another presence – an unseen pressure pressing from all sides. The voice came, just loud enough to be heard, calm to the point of being terrifying; it didn’t sound like a human speaking, more like a decree being issued – neutral, yet utterly oppressive.

Before Rin could decide what to do next, a scratchy, scraping sound echoed from behind him, reverberating across the space. The voice spoke again, this time with a condescending, slightly mocking tone:

“Hey, kid, you’ve got guts, huh? Storming right in here, stepping into my territory, using my things, and even daring to criticize my taste? Are humans out there really this degenerate, coming all the way into the forest just to pick a place to sleep for a change of scenery?”

Rin didn’t know which part of that stung worse, but a sudden, inexplicable surge of anger shot through him. He spun around, growling:

“What the hell do you mean by degenerate h… h…?”  – but before he could finish the question, he froze.

He was there, like a monarch standing in the center of his own kingdom. His tall figure cast a long black shadow across the stone floor, stretching all the way to where Rin was trembling, clutching the edge of the blanket. Tousled golden hair, strands flipped back, reflected the dancing firelight from the hearth. But as your eyes followed downward, the gold gradually shifted into a dark, ominous blue. And then that hair… was no longer hair.

In its place were snakes. A few green snakes, uneven in size, the two largest and longest peeking out on either side, while about four or five smaller ones twisted and coiled chaotically, making the air itself seem to writhe under their weight. Their scales gleamed coldly, reflecting light, heads held high, black eyes fixed directly on Rin. One even slightly parted its mouth, revealing a forked tongue and hissing softly – just enough to send chills down Rin’s spine.

Rin felt as if his breath had been squeezed out, his throat dry, heart hammering like it wanted to burst from his chest. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Holy Itoshi Sae… this was really… the legendary creature.

…and the very first thought that popped into his head, not to run or scream, but an utterly ridiculous one, was:

“Damn it, Nagi, you owe me two pancakes if the bet was on the black snake…”

.

.

Kaiser felt like he had woken up on the wrong side of reality today; there was no way he should be facing this kind of damn situation. Normally, like every other day, he’d wake up, eat, study the curse, sit idly in the sun, feed the snakes, then sit again letting the snakes bask in the sunlight, eat again, and then flop back onto the bed or a soft chair. A perfect day – no drama, no annoyance, and definitely no brat sneaking straight into his castle, crawling into his blankets, and plopping himself down on the floor as if it were his own.

Really? And the kid even had the audacity to criticize his chandelier? The chandelier that Kaiser had spent an entire month meticulously calculating the angles of reflection, balancing the light, selecting crystals from the vault, wiping each piece with silk cloth, and even testing twelve different types of candles to achieve the perfect glow?! Stupid humans have zero sense of aesthetics!

When the brat finally turned his head, Kaiser paused for a moment.

A young face, probably only sixteen or seventeen, still carrying the soft naivety of a human, yet with features sharply defined in a strange, striking way. Black hair, catching the light from the fire behind, faintly tinged with dark green, a few strands clinging to the forehead and cheek – unclear whether from the lingering rain or pressed against the floor.

But what truly made Kaiser stop breathing was the eyes.

A pair of turquoise eyes, stunning beyond belief.

Not just beautiful… but the most beautiful he had ever seen. The color floated between blue and green, crystal-clear, like a fleeting glimpse of the deep sea reflecting firelight, sparkling, cold yet piercingly sharp – so beautiful it surpassed the value of the gem he had stolen from a tomb just two months ago by several times over.

Those eyes stared straight at him – wide, startled, suspicious, alert… and seemingly with a hint of disdain. Kaiser frowned slightly. A tiny, soaking-wet human, lost in his castle… and daring to look at him with a gaze that seemed to say: “Well, you’re not all that impressive, are you?”

Truly an insult.

Before Kaiser could even open his mouth, something suddenly flew straight at him, moving so fast there was no time to react.

Smack!

The object hit his face full on. A sharp pain shot down his nose, freezing Kaiser in place for a few seconds. He raised a hand, slightly dazed, to remove what had just landed on him. A… shirt? A crumpled, soaked t-shirt. For a brief moment, the corner of his mouth twitched, veins standing out on his temples. Not from the pain, but because – some insignificant creature had the audacity… to throw a shirt at his face?

He ground his teeth, his voice low and resonant, calm yet heavy enough to feel like it could crush the entire room:

“What the hell is this, you damn brat?”

Across from him, the human kid showed no trace of remorse. On the contrary, his jade-blue eyes locked onto Kaiser, his whole body tensed like a small animal cornered. His voice was hoarse, yet unmistakably angry: “Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?”

The air in the room froze for a heartbeat.

Kaiser froze for a moment, looking down – well… not a single scrap of fabric covered him. He didn’t like wearing clothes while sleeping; they were bulky, uncomfortable, and normally he hadn’t even changed yet after waking. But wait, this was his domain, wasn’t it? Whether he wore clothes or not shouldn’t matter here. His face, already streaked with veins, darkened further. He stared at the intruding kid, his voice dropping, icy and sharp:

“You chose this yourself, you jerk. I never intended to use it on a mere human like you.”

He raised his hand. The metallic blue of his eyes flashed with a sinister gleam. The snakes on his head, previously lax, now all snapped upright, bodies coiled tight, tongues flicking rapidly. The light in the room dimmed for a moment.

“Petrify him.”

The command rolled off Kaiser’s lips, calm yet full of arrogance, satisfaction, and cruelty. A smirk gradually spread across his face, as if he were watching the tiny prey fall straight into a trap.

One second…
Two seconds…

Then fifteen seconds passed, and nothing happened. The usual blue glow did not appear, nor the bone-chilling crackle of flesh freezing. The kid was still there, looking at him in bewilderment. Kaiser’s gaze flicked left, toward a large snake coiling nearby, and it too met a pair of wide, sparkling eyes, as if it were equally confused.

He gritted his teeth and commanded again, every word sharp:
“Petrify him. Now.”

The blue eyes before him did flash… then went dead. No light, no effect, nothing but the eerily silent air.

Normally, when he gave the order, his eyes would lock on the target, his beloved snakes would quickly seal off the prey’s escape, wild pupils flaring with bright blue light, freezing every cell of the unfortunate victim. Yet now, Kaiser had commanded twice – and still nothing happened. His smug smile stiffened slightly.

The space fell into an unnatural silence.

A naked figure stood in the middle of the room.
A half-naked figure, wrapped in a blanket, sat on the floor.
Two pairs of eyes locked onto each other.

Wha..?!

Chapter Text

The Itoshi House, 13:32.

A piercing sound suddenly erupted from the kitchen, shot through the long, wood-paneled hallway, and echoed into every corner of the silent living room. The thin white curtains swayed in the draft, and the gentle post-rain sunlight, slanting through them, cast dappled, faint reflections onto the spotlessly clean floor.

"You know I want to beeee, your destinyyyyy, so please just say haloooooo~"

That off-key, high-pitched singing filled the entire house. To any listener, but especially to one with dark blue hair, jade-blue eyes, and a pitifully thin limit of patience—aka Itoshi Rin—hearing this musical catastrophe would be grounds for murder. To quote Rin's own poetic assessment of the clown: "They say music is the language of the soul… and your soul is on its deathbed, you lunatic."

But, unfortunately for the world and fortunately for the fool singing so nonchalantly, Rin was not home.

Therefore, at the epicenter of flour, butter, and the faint scent of vanilla, Shidou Ryusei—the very embodiment of the term 'unrestrained'—was dancing uncontrollably on the tiled floor, simultaneously slaughtering any last vestiges of peace in the house. Singing proudly out of tune while stirring cake batter with a wooden spoon, the sunlight made his pink-tipped blond hair shine even more brilliantly, and his smile was brighter still.

Click.

The sound of the front door opening made Shidou freeze. His pink eyes blinked once before he spun around. The moment he glimpsed the familiar, tall figure with dark red hair stepping inside, his smile widened considerably.

"Sae-channnn~~~~~!"

Not giving the other a moment to react, Shidou slammed the stirring spoon onto the counter—sending batter flying yet again—and launched himself forward like a predator spotting its favorite prey. He lunged straight at Sae, who had just managed to put down his slightly damp umbrella and was completely unprepared. Shidou's limbs immediately wrapped around the older man's neck and waist, his feet not even touching the ground. His laughter rang out, clear and shrill, bursting from his chest with pure excitement:

"Oh my god, Sae-chan, you took so long! I thought you got lost forever!!!! I missed you so much it hurts, comfort me, come ooon!"

Sae stumbled back a step from the momentum of his hyperactive boyfriend but managed to wrap an arm around Shidou's waist to keep him from falling. The scents of butter, the midday sun, and cake batter now clung to Sae's clothes, merging into an… indescribable mixture. Sae let out a breath, his voice quiet but carrying a familiar sense of helplessness:

"The market had out-of-season strawberries today. I bought some for you. Who was it that kept whining and begging for them a few days ago? That's why I'm a bit late."

Shidou paused for a split second, then immediately doubled his intensity, squeezing his boyfriend's neck tightly and shouting excitedly:

"SAE-CHAN BOUGHT STRAWBERRIES FOR ME?? FOR REAL?? OH MY GOD, I COULD DIE OF HAPPINESS RIGHT NOW!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCHAAAA!!"

No sooner had he spoken than he planted a loud, smacking kiss on Sae's cheek, the sound so pronounced one could almost visualize the eye-roll and disgusted frown Rin would have worn had he been present. Sae could only sigh, patting the back of the excited man clinging to him, and said:

"Alright. You said you wanted to bake. Make strawberry pancakes. Remember to make an extra portion for Rin; he'll have some when he gets back tonight."

Shidou finally climbed down from his human Sae-shaped perch, but his eyes still sparkled. He immediately chirped, "Okay!! I'll start right now! I'll conquer DinDin with strawberry pancakes to bribe him into giving us a few more private afternoons like this!!" – Then he shot straight back into the kitchen, his feet skittering chaotically on the tiles. Every step was a lively thump, and his mouth promptly resumed humming that ear-splitting melody.

Sae stood still for a few seconds, reluctantly observing the scene. The sunlight streaming through the window cast a golden glow on the messy kitchen counter. He glanced at the clock; Rin and his friends were probably napping around now, right?

"Whatever," – he muttered under his breath. Sae placed the market bag on the table—plump, red strawberries peeking out from among the paper parcels—and took the ash-gray apron hanging in the corner. He walked into the kitchen, his voice even and succinct:

"I'll help you."

Instantly, Shidou's high-pitched voice shrieked back: "Welcome, welcome~"

The sounds of laughter and chatter reverberated through the house, mingling with the aroma of cake batter and strawberries—warm, sweet, and overflowing with what could only be described as a "nationally unsafe level of sugar content."

.

.

.

.

And Rin—the one who needed bribing, and who they imagined was taking a nap—was currently in a state of existential depression, his faith in life shattered. His rationality and subconscious were being challenged and reset, his worldview torn to pieces and buried at the bottom of the Smue River. In short, he was in a situation where he was facing a mythical creature, and in an extremely awkward predicament that was... somewhat shady.

Fuck it!

Rin glared at the man who was now calmly sipping a cup of hot ginger tea, looking far too relaxed for someone who had tried to kill him just minutes ago. Was this normal? Well, true, when did Rin not glare at someone? Actually, he did—at non-human things like cats, leaves, or a couple of pastries...

But this guy wasn't human either, right? Wait, that wasn't the point!! The point was: Rin was trying to glare in a controlled manner, meaning he was only looking at the man's hair—more precisely, at the writhing snakes that were also staring back at him like some kind of moral oversight committee.

Goddamn it! Rin shuddered but couldn't look away.

The reason? The lunatic in front of him was still naked. COMPLETELY.

Goddamn it, again! Could he at least cover the necessary parts? Rin was even afraid that if he blinked, he might accidentally open his eyes to something else. Helpless, he could only growl:

"Don't you have even the slightest sense of decency, you bastard? Who walks around stark naked like this? What a fucking perverted hobby!!"

The golden-haired man didn't even bother to look up, calmly replying:

"Decency is for humans, not for me."

"You mythical creatures should still have some self-awareness!!"

"Yeah, we do, but..." — He lifted his head, causing Rin to instinctively step back at the sudden, mesmerizing blue hue blocking his view — "You've been staring for so long, I thought you were interested."

"Interested in my ass— no, your ass— I mean, YOUR HEAD!!!!" – Rin hissed, his face flushed bright red. "I'm just trying to save my corneas from damage, got it?!"

"Hmm..." — He nodded lightly, then set his teacup down, his tone flat — "I could put something on, if you insist on not admitting you're shy."

Rin choked, then let out a dry, harsh laugh.

"Shy?? What the hell? I'm accidentally here, almost turned to stone by a naked snake-headed bastard, and your conclusion is that I'm shy??"

"Well, you're blushing."

"BLUSHING FROM ANGER!!" Rin yelled—and panic, but he didn't say that part. "Not everyone who blushes is shy, you psycho!"

He shrugged, calmly pouring more tea: "But I prefer to think so."

Rin was speechless. Every nerve in his brain collectively held up a sign that read, "Sorry, we quit." Finally, Rin could only take a deep breath, turn his back, and hiss through gritted teeth:

"God, if you can hear me, please give me the strength not to smash this teapot over his head."

"And I pray to God you don't actually do that, because I really like that teapot."

Damn it.

.

.

.

.

Kaiser was bewildered. Genuinely bewildered.

Why wasn't the magic working?
Why was his curse—something that, with just a glance, should have sent any living creature into a state of eternal petrification—completely useless against this person?
Why weren't his snakes showing any hostility?
And why, why could this human brat stride into his castle, steal his blanket, and then turn around and scold him for being impolite?

Kaiser looked at Rin—who was by no means small, standing nearly as tall as him, now clutching the woolen blanket that should have been neatly folded on his chair—and found himself sinking into deep thought.

The grand hall around them darkened with each flash of lightning through the towering windows. The rain hammered on the stone roof like war drums, mingling with the faint howl of wind whistling through the long corridors, creating the castle's signature eerie atmosphere. The portraits on the walls seemed to look down upon them, silent and menacing—except for one small detail: That guy was still… alive.

Hmm, perhaps the curse was less effective because of the rain today?
Or maybe his snakes hadn't eaten enough and lacked the energy to channel their magic?
Could it be that this human was carrying some kind of protective object?
Or perhaps…

He glanced at Rin, who was shooting him a look of such intense vigilance and threat, it was as if he were facing a creature from hell. Which, to be fair, wasn't entirely inaccurate.

But there was something in those eyes that made Kaiser's mind stall.

One moment passed.
Then two.
He felt himself pulled into a distant memory—a very distant one—as if Rin had just brushed against some old, forgotten door in his mind.

"Kaiser, do you plan to stay rooted here for the rest of your life?"

"No, just staying temporarily. I'll move out in a few hundred years."

"...Whatever. But why did you ask me to set up a barrier? Who'd be foolish enough to come all the way out here, to this godforsaken middle of nowhere? I wouldn't come even if you paid me."

"You talk too much. Just do it. Didn't you say you still have to go wander the world or something? If you keep nagging, I'll turn you to stone right now."

"You can't turn me to stone, you bastard. You love me."

"...I'm counting to three, Ness."

"...I'm sorry."

"..."

"..."

"Wait, this barrier is flawed."

"Yeah, on purpose."

"...? Are you kidding me?"

"Yesterday, Ranze said... well, he foresaw that you might meet... uh, I don't know, your soulmate or something. Soon. So I left a little gap in the barrier for that 'soul-bond' or whatever."

"That prophet boyfriend of yours? Doesn't sound very reliable."

"It's that 'unreliable' prophet boyfriend of mine who saved your life twice, and also picked this feng shui-approved location for your castle, you ungrateful bastard."

"... Fine. So when is 'soon'?"

"In about 200 years."

"... You little shit, you're messing with me."

"If I'm messing with you, I'm a dog."

"Get lost."

.

.

Kaiser blinked, returning to the present.
The rain was still pattering outside the window.

Rin was still standing there, clutching his blanket tightly, his expression a mix of anger, fear, and the clear desire to hit him with a pillow. Kaiser did a quick mental calculation. It had been... about 198 years now. Not quite 200. Knew that prophet boyfriend of Ness's was full of shit. Kaiser rolled his eyes. A soul-bond was a spiritual state connecting two people with harmonious spirits—well, they didn't necessarily have to like each other, but when they... ahem... connected, it could amplify both their powers and even neutralize negative effects from one side.

For example: The witch Alexis Ness—aka his best friend—and the prophet Kurona Ranze. After forming a soul-bond through... uh... physical means, Ranze gained a lifespan as long as Ness's, while Ness's magical abilities were enhanced under Ranze's spiritual support. Or take the werewolf Luna and the vampire Bunny; after marking each other, they both saw a boost in strength and abilities. Bunny even overcame his weakness to sunlight. The cost? Well... ahem... their... carnal urges also skyrocketed.

Kaiser shook his head, trying to force those unhealthy images out of his mind—but any effort shattered the moment his gaze unconsciously drifted back to Rin. The boy was wrapped in his wine-red blanket, the soft fabric, now darkened, clinging to his slender frame and accentuating his overly pale, smooth human skin. His messy black hair fell haphazardly over his forehead and cheeks, but it couldn't obscure those sharp, cold jade-blue eyes—eyes that were looking at him as if they wanted to dissect his head for research.

Everything about Rin radiated a sharp, prickly, and... untouchable aura.

His destiny?
To be paired with a human? What the hell would he even gain from that?
Him—a semi-divine, semi-legendary creature—bound to some human brat who was shivering (though trying hard not to show it) in his blanket? Before Kaiser could fully form the thought, Rin's voice cut through the air, cold and sharp, laced with... disdain:

"Take that fucking perverted look off your face, you old lecher. It's disgusting."

"..."

Damn it, he did not need to be saddled with this foul-mouthed brat!!

.

.

.

.

Rin stared at the clown in front of him—his face shifting from pale, to white, to a weirdly pinkish hue, changing colors faster than Reo did during that one picnic.

Yeah, that disastrous picnic where the moment Nagi yawned, Reo cycled through every emotion from heaven to hell: first surprise, then utter euphoria when Nagi dozed off on his shoulder, followed by gloom at the thought that Nagi didn't value their date, then beaming again while muttering "Nagi's so cute, completely unguarded," and finally, sheer irritation when he suddenly thought, "Damn it, what if Nagi falls asleep on someone else like this?"

Don't ask how Rin knew. Who do you think was the poor soul tasked with carrying the picnic basket, preparing the food and drinks, picking the perfect sunbathing spot, laying out the blanket, and even playing soft music to set the mood?

That's right.
It was Shidou.

Shidou and Sae, after dropping the three of them off, immediately made a run for it, leaving Rin—who had been dragged along for reasons unknown—sprawled on the grass, munching on a scone and wondering how his life had come to this.

Helpless.
Annoyed.
With a damn good scone.
Fuck, the scones Shidou made were really good. Suddenly, he felt starving.

The image of that scone had only flashed in Rin's mind for three seconds—just three seconds—before his stomach immediately reacted as if summoned by the hunger demon. It slammed the "I'm hungry, and I want food, this is a notification, not a negotiation" button, then let out a long, low gurgle that was utterly devoid of shame.

Rin's heart skipped a beat. In a desperate attempt to escape reality, he burrowed deeper into the blanket, wishing this inanimate object would suddenly evolve, grow eyes, a nose, and a mouth, and just swallow him whole, erasing all traces of this humiliation.

That damn stomach.
Traitor.

A stretch of silence passed, filled only by the steady patter of rain outside.
Then—a low voice, laced with undisguised amusement:

"Oh?" – Kaiser tilted his head, his gaze fixed on the blanket shrouding the intruder. "It seems someone is hungry."

"No." – Rin retorted immediately, faster and more sharply than he intended. "That was just the echo of my soul groaning in despair."

"Is that so?" – He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk that sounded utterly convincing. "Or should I call it the sound of destiny calling for help?"

"Destiny my ass," – Rin muttered, pulling the blanket over his head entirely, his voice muffled.

Kaiser let out a soft chuckle, the sound mingling with his breath and the rain—a noise that was both irritating and annoyingly captivating, as if it were born solely to tease others.

Someone please save Rin.
Or just kill him.
Either works.

.

.

.

Time crawled by so slowly that Rin swore each raindrop outside was falling at its own deliberately mocking pace. The stone room remained damp and cold, the firelight from the hearth flickering against the ornate walls, and that Medusa guy just sat there, serenely sipping his hot tea. Finally—it was Rin, the one who couldn't stand the silence or that shameless stare any longer—who pushed himself up from the soft fur rug. Still wrapped tightly in the blanket like a mobile cocoon, he staggered to his feet.

"Alright," – Rin gritted out, word by word. "Trespassing illegally was me. Taking stuff without permission was also me. But I'm not apologizing. If you want to sue or demand compensation, file a complaint with the guild. I'm leaving."

With that, Rin seriously turned around, dragging the thick blanket along with him as if it were an integral part of his dignity, ignoring the gaze burning into his back.

As he passed by Kaiser, Rin spotted, well... his own wet shirt. He frowned and picked it up. The shirt was damp and cold, while the blanket wrapped around him was warm, fragrant, and theoretically... belonged to someone else. Would it be too despicable to just walk off with the guy's blanket?

"This sucks." –  Rin looked at the two choices life had presented him: stay warm and shameless, or freeze but keep his integrity. Rin sighed, resignedly choosing the latter. He unwrapped the blanket, and the cold immediately assaulted his skin, raising goosebumps all over. He hissed softly, struggling to put his own shirt back on, his hands shaking from the cold. He grabbed the jacket lying near the fireplace and threw it on.

His feeling could be summed up in four words: ABSOLUTELY. F*CKING. MISERABLE.

He swore, the sticky, cold sensation made him want to tear the clothes right off. And because of that, his gaze—completely involuntarily—drifted back to the wine-red blanket lying neatly on the rug. Just one glance, and a storm of humiliating thoughts raged in his head: Could I just borrow that? Just borrow it. That wouldn't be stealing. I'm freezing to death here. All I have to do is... open my mouth...

The result after three seconds of self-assessment: No.

Rin gave up.
He couldn't do it.
His self-respect—however meager—was still alive.

So, he could only sigh, cast one last glance at the blanket full of regret and resentment, and mentally note down this debt: I have to get Shidou to find me a blanket like that. One that's super soft. Super warm. Super oversized. I can't endure this again.

Then, Rin straightened his back, trying to infuse every cell with what could be called the "minimum required pride" of a human being, even though his hands were still trembling slightly. He strode towards the door without looking back, as if the other creature in the room didn't exist.

Behind him, Kaiser merely narrowed his eyes slightly.
The corner of his lips curled into a faint, lazy smile.
A soft, indistinct chuckle mixed with the sound of rain falling on the stone roof.

It wasn't very loud.
But it was just loud enough for Rin—who was trying hard to pretend he didn't hear it—to feel the urge to turn around…
…and throw the wet shirt right in his face.

Again. Goddammit, how irritating.

.

.

.

Kaiser watched Rin's retreating back disappear behind the door, still sitting there completely unruffled—he took another sip of his ginger tea and exhaled a warm breath. Then, he felt something lightly tap his cheek. He glanced sideways: the larger snake on his left was rolling its eyes, then jerked its head towards the door. Seeing its master remain indifferent, it lost patience—it butted Kaiser's cheek harder, wrapped itself around a strand of his blond hair, gave a light bite and tugged. Though it didn't speak, Kaiser swore he could feel the intensely conveyed message: "Damn it, go after your other half, you hopelessly single bastard!!"

Kaiser's eye twitched. Without a hint of tenderness, he flicked the snake's head and growled:

"What the hell? I'm lucky I didn't turn him to stone, and you want me to chase after him? And what 'other half'? I'm nowhere near forming a bond with that unpleasant human brat!! I'd rather endure this damn curse than do that."

The snake on the right immediately bristled (even though it didn't have a single hair to bristle), promptly nudged its head over to the left to comfort its friend, then glared at Kaiser, half-angry, half-mocking: "Hmph, you can't even petrify him properly, you're all talk." Kaiser suppressed the urge to storm into the kitchen, grab a cleaver, and chop these two off his head. Usually, they just freeloaded meals, and now they had the audacity to mock him? Ungrateful little shits.

"Besides, did I say I was letting him leave?"—the blond man lazily shrugged, placed his teacup on the table with a soft clink in the quiet air. Then he stretched lazily, draping himself over the chaise lounge, shifting and adjusting his posture as if the couch owed him perfect comfort. After a moment, he frowned—something felt missing.

A quick glance around, and ah, of course.
The blanket was missing.

Kaiser still couldn't be bothered to sit up. He just lifted his foot, hooked the edge of the blanket on the rug with his toes, and pulled it towards himself in a manner utterly unbecoming of a "mythical creature's" dignity. Then, using his foot, he flipped it up onto his knees and finally bundled it into his arms.

The blanket settled over him with a comforting weight.

It was still warm.

And it carried a strange scent—faint, soft, not unpleasant at all. A little sharp, a little clean, a little… human, but oddly… comforting. Kaiser didn't mind it at all. He burrowed deeper into the blanket, his eyes half-closed. The chill in the room was instantly blocked, making him let out a satisfied sigh, the warm breath misting in the cool air.

Yeah. This was good.

Now—just lie here and wait for that brat to come back.

.

.

.

Unclear how much time had passed, maybe thirty, thirty-five minutes or so. Kaiser was drifting in that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness when—BAM BAM BAM!—the sound of frantic running footsteps echoed from the hallway like thunder. He opened his eyes, the corner of his lips curling slightly:

"See? Told you."—Having said that, he still couldn't be bothered to sit up, just pulled the blanket a little higher, looking utterly at ease.

"YOU. DAMN. BASTARD."—The sound arrived before the sight. The roar of fury from the hallway made Kaiser chuckle in amusement. And then, SLAM!—the door burst open, and Rin charged in like a bullet fired by pure rage. His eyes scanned the room and immediately landed—precisely—on the creature half-lying, half-curled on the couch, wrapped in the blanket, hair mussed. Their eyes met, and Kaiser's smile widened even further.

Tsk! Rin's face darkened like the bottom of a pot. He immediately snatched the blanket away, roaring:
"WHAT THE ACTUAL FCK, WHY CAN'T I GET OUT?!?! THAT DAMN DOOR— OH SHT!!!"

His shout echoed like an exploding bomb. Rin froze for 0.2 seconds, then immediately leaped back three steps, hands covering his face, his voice a strangled mix of horror and fury:

"THE FCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!"

On the couch, Kaiser sat up halfway, the blanket slipping down. His blond hair was disheveled, and a few snakes on his head yawned lazily, as if they too had just been rudely awakened from their nap. One even stretched its head out, flicked its tongue, and made a disapproving tch sound.

Rin, now covering his eyes, staggered back, pointing wildly:

"HOLY F*CK, PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!!! HOW THE HELL HAVE YOU STILL NOT FOUND ANYTHING TO WRAP YOURSELF IN SINCE THEN!!!!"

Kaiser shrugged:
"I did, but you just snatched it away."

"GODDAMMIT DON'T SAY THINGS THAT SOUND SO WEIRD AND WRONG!!!"

.

.

.

A few dozen minutes earlier, Rin was shuffling his way towards the pitch-black darkness of the hallway, cursing his own damnable pride that left him shivering in his cold, clingy shirt while straining his eyes to see in this oppressive gloom. He wanted to trail his hand along the wall like he did on the way in, but damn it, back then, when he had touched the hallway wall, his hand had met something slimy, sticky, and disgustingly gross. With a "rather die than get dirty" spirit, Rin resigned himself to inching forward step by step down the center of the hall.

He thought it would be simple. After all, last time, he'd just walked straight for over five minutes before stumbling into this room. So even going slowly, it should take him at most ten minutes to reach the castle's heavy iron door. But no... hell no, Rin estimated it had already been well over ten minutes, yet ahead was still nothing but utter, light-devouring blackness, with no sign of anything definable as a "door."

"Damn it!" – Rin hissed. There was no way he was lost, he'd been walking straight the whole time! Where did he go wrong? Finally, out of options, he could only reluctantly reach out to touch the wall, deciding to follow it out of this maze. But to his surprise, when his fingers made contact, there was no unnamed slime—just cold, the chill of something ancient and timeworn. Rin's face darkened like a burnt pot. So what the hell was the reason he'd been groping around in the dark all this time?!

Furious as he was, having a sense of direction was still a very good thing. So Rin tried to steady his emotions and started feeling his way from the beginning again. This time, Lady Luck was on his side. After just over five minutes, he actually saw the familiar, massive, looming iron door (even though it was only his first time seeing it). Suppressing a flicker of excitement, Rin hurried over.

The door was just as before—looming, with those convoluted, patternless swirls that were both ugly and dizzying. But Rin didn't care. He grabbed the handle, and the immediate, biting cold of the metal made him shudder involuntarily. He pressed his lips together and pulled hard towards himself.

Scccrreeeeech...

A harsh, grating sound rang out, like a bitter, mocking laugh. The iron door emitted that single, obligatory screech, then fell completely silent. Not a crack, not even the smallest gap, revealed the outside light to Rin. It stood there, towering and stubborn, like a guard loyal to the point of stupidity.

Rin frowned, both hands gripping the freezing cold metal handle. This time, he mustered all the strength he possessed—the meager energy he'd recovered after his chaotic, fitful sleep—into his hands, which were trembling from cold and fury. He braced himself and pulled.

And...

Nothing happened. Even the pathetic screeching from before was gone. The door was utterly silent, completely immobile. The brutal truth crashed down: Rin, in his current state, couldn't even make this door budge.

"Motherf*cker!"

He'd lost count of how many times he'd sworn since getting trapped in this bizarre castle. Rin glared at the door, his gaze sharp enough to cut, as if hoping his rage could incinerate it to ashes. It had opened with just a light push when he entered! Was this the living embodiment of the saying "easy to enter, hard to leave" that people always warned about? Rin ground his teeth, the sound grating miserably between his jaws. Reluctantly, he bent down, starting to fumble and feel around the doorframe, hoping to find some secret mechanism—a button, a latch, anything—even though he knew deep down it probably didn't exist.

Just as Rin was scrutinizing the chaotic, bizarre carvings on the door's surface, trying to find a clue...

Click!

A crisp, clear sound.

A small gap suddenly appeared, and a sliver of blindingly sharp light, like a knife's edge, shot in from outside, slicing through the hallway's thick darkness and hitting Rin right in the face.

Huh? It's open?

But... he hadn't done anything! He hadn't even touched it! What principle was this door operating on? Magic? Willpower? Or was it simply... a joke? But who cared! Rin certainly didn't. A hint of barely suppressible glee rose in his chest. He hastily reached out, grabbed the edge of the door, and pulled hard.

And... once again, nothing. The gap remained just a gap, not widening by even a millimeter.

The corner of Rin's mouth twitched.

Then it twitched again, more violently this time, as the gap suddenly... widened by a few centimeters. But before he could rejoice, it immediately narrowed again, then opened once more, then closed. The outside light flickered erratically across his face, which was gradually losing all vitality. Big - small - big - small. A steady, provocative rhythm.

Alright. What else was there to understand? Goddammit, this fucking door...

THIS F*CKING DOOR IS MOCKING HIM, ISN'T IT?! WHAT THE HELL ELSE COULD IT BE?!

Rin gritted his teeth with a sound like two stones grinding together. He tried to suppress the fury boiling inside him, trying to convince himself that a sane person shouldn't pick a fight with a door.

But he failed.

His restraint shattered completely. A roar erupted from deep within his throat, laden with all the helplessness and frustration since he'd been thrown into this bizarre world:

"YOU FCKING PIECE OF SHTTTT!!"

The scream echoed through the silent hallway. Rationality flew out the window. Rin no longer considered the consequences. He lifted his leg, channeling all his strength and rage into a heaven-sent kick aimed directly at that stubborn sheet of steel. Come what may, he at least had to leave his mark, a dent for the ages, to vent the fury in his heart!

But then, something astonishing happened.
The door—the thing that should have been fixed and silently endured his wrath—suddenly… moved.

It retreated backward with a mischievous slyness, just enough distance, so precise it was unbelievable. Not too far to create an opening, but just enough for Rin's ferocious kick to meet nothing but air.

His leg swung through empty space, slamming hard onto the cold stone floor. His entire body, losing its anchor, pitched forward from the momentum. In an instant, Rin could only register the emptiness before him and a staggering sense of shock.

THUD!

He fell flat on his face in a pathetic heap, his body plunging forward, elbows and knees hitting the hard ground. A sharp pain spread through his body, but it probably didn't hurt as much as the humiliation and rage burning in his chest.

The door still stood there, silent and proud, as if it had just accomplished a great feat: taking down an intruder with nothing but a gentle retreat.

.

.

It's unknown how long Rin lay there face down—perhaps long enough for the shame to seep from his skin deep into his bones. Finally, he slowly lifted his head.

His face now held no trace of emotion. It was empty, placid like the surface of a frozen lake after the most violent emotional storm had swept through, leaving behind a deathly stillness. Even when he saw the rough, bizarre patterns on the door begin to writhe, twist, and rearrange themselves into the giant letters "HAHAHA," which then morphed into the two provocative words "YOU FOOL," Rin's jade-blue eyes didn't even blink. Not a trace of anger, not a hint of shame. Just emptiness.

He calmly stood up, slowly brushing off invisible dust from his clothes, as if brushing away the last fragments of his sanity. Then, without a word, without a backward glance, Rin turned around and took his first steps back into the deep darkness of the hallway.

At first, those steps were slow, heavy, restrained by a terrifying calm. But then, the rhythm began to change. They became faster, more urgent, shorter and more decisive. Until the last vestiges of control finally snapped.

THUMP... THUMP... THUMP!

The footsteps turned into a run, each step pounding against the stone floor, echoing through the silent space like a death knell. The sound was no longer that of escape, but of someone on a hunt.

In Rin's mind, all complex thoughts, all hesitation, had been incinerated. Only a single, burning, primal will remained, repeating like a mantra:

"You dare mock me? Fine... MOTHERF*CKER, I'M TAKING YOUR OWNER DOWN WITH MEEEE!"

.

.

.

And so, Rin—with the iron will of someone who'd "rather die and drag the enemy down with them"—charged headlong back into the room. He completely ignored why the path back was suddenly so straightforward and easy to follow, a stark contrast to the inescapable maze it had been just moments before. All remaining rationality had been burned away, making room for the flames of vengeance.

And then, his eyes landed on that sight—the guy who was supposedly the root of all this trouble, or at least the owner of the root cause—could be so utterly, infuriatingly at ease. He was still lying there, wrapped in the blanket, in a state of relaxation bordering on sleep, as if all the tragedies and cruel jokes of the past while were just a pleasant dream.

Meanwhile, Rin—who had just experienced the ultimate humiliation, practically gambling away a lifetime's worth of dignity just to escape this godforsaken place—felt the last thin thread of sanity he'd been desperately clinging to… snap. A faint pop sounded in his mind. Nothing could mend it now.

The break was absolute,
Final,
And utterly liberating.

Rin lunged forward like a bullet, his only thought to grab that bastard by the collar, yank him up, and squeeze the very existence out of him until he stopped breathing.

The problem was… when the bastard saw him charging over furiously, he didn't even blink. Not a hint of surprise, not a shred of defense. Even… even… the corner of his lips quirked up into a provocative, utterly amused smile, as if he'd been waiting for this moment for a very long time.

The corner of Rin's mouth twitched violently, his face darkening with rage. He snatched the blanket away, ready to roar out the most devastating curses:

"I'm going to kill you, you little shiiiiiiiiiiiii..."

But the scream didn't even have time to fully leave his throat, to ring out with its full power, before the image before his eyes stopped everything. It choked off the sound, trapping the curses in his windpipe, utterly unable to escape.

THIS BASTARD WAS STILL COMPLETELY NAKED!!!

The thought exploded in Rin's head like a bomb, blowing away all other complex thoughts. All the plans for "mutual destruction," the sky-high fury, the iron will for revenge—all of it evaporated in that instant, dissolving before a truth more obvious and terrifying than any curse.

"THE FCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!" – Rin scrambled backward as if burned, one hand flying up to cover his eyes, the other pointing vaguely, not wanting to actually point at anything anymore.

Good god.

Those two words were no longer just a common swear. They were the cry for help of his rationality, the sound of a soul completely defeated and having abandoned all hope of understanding this world.

Rin had thought he was prepared to face anything: magic, curses, a life-or-death fight. But he never expected that the final and most powerful weapon of this demigod? Legendary descendant? Or simply this lunatic… would be this utterly unflinching nudity.

In that instant, everything since he woke up in this castle came flooding back: the fact that Kaiser couldn't turn him to stone, the castle messing with him, Kaiser just casually being naked as if it were the most natural thing… All the disjointed pieces suddenly clicked together into a single picture, accompanied by a conclusion that made Rin want his head to explode:

He wasn't just messing with him.
He genuinely… saw no problem with any of this.

And that was a thousand times worse.

Rin slumped to the ground. The fury was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and helplessness. He felt he no longer had the energy to be angry. Facing an opponent whose personal dictionary didn't even contain the concepts of "dignity" or "shame," all his rage became meaningless.

Someone, even if it's that lunatic, please fix the magic and just turn me to stone already. Rin felt like he'd achieved some form of enlightenment; all humiliation, despair, even his very senses, had gone numb.

Motherf*cking. Life.

.

.

.

.

Far, far away, in a completely different world, pale golden sunlight, like honey, stretched across the chamomile field beside the Smue River. Pristine white flowers swayed gently in the soft breeze, releasing a cool, soothing fragrance. The sky was clear blue after the rain, with white, fluffy clouds drifting lazily. The temperature and humidity were unbelievably perfect, making anyone who came here want to stay forever.

Amid this astonishingly peaceful scene, a small, charming wooden house had suddenly sprung up like a mushroom, its wide eaves draped with purple-pink bougainvillea. How? Just ask Mikage Reo's wallet. The power of money was sometimes terrifying—it could transform an empty plot of land from three days ago into a vacation paradise overnight.

Inside the cozy house, sunlight streamed through the large window, casting golden streaks on the polished wooden floor. One figure was sprawled lazily on the emerald-green upholstered sofa, knees drawn up, while another young man sat beside him, gently stroking his soft white hair. On the handmade wooden table, a tray of steaming blueberry muffins sat next to two cups of hot milk emitting a rich, creamy aroma.

This was Nagi and Reo—the two "close" friends of Itoshi Rin. They were relaxed, comfortable, and completely at ease. Notably, they seemed to have temporarily forgotten all about the existence of their other core friend—the one currently grappling with some supernatural disaster, marking the seventh time this week he'd been "abandoned" (even though it was only Thursday).

Well, they did remember Rin... in a very particular way.

"Nagi," – Reo asked softly, leaning against the soft backrest of the couch, his hand gently stroking his boyfriend's white hair as if petting a large cat, "Do you think Rin will be mad that we went off on our own like this today?"

Nagi grunted, lazily shifting his position on Reo's lap to get a better view of his gentle purple eyes, and mumbled, "It's fine, Reo... Rin doesn't hold grudges against us. He loves us a lot, you know..."

Reo chuckled, affectionately planting a light kiss on Nagi's forehead, making the boy's eyes droop contentedly. Then, glancing away slightly, he whispered – "Maybe we should buy something for Rin tonight. Hmm... any ideas, Nagi?"

Nagi squeezed his eyes shut, was silent for a moment, then uttered, "Maybe Rin would like strawberry pancakes... I don't know, not thinking about it, it's too much trouble..."—then he buried his fluffy head into Reo's stomach again, making Reo giggle from the ticklish sensation—"Just leave Rin be, Reo... pamper me more..."

Who was Reo to refuse the "treasure" of his life? He quickly made a mental note of "strawberry pancakes" as a peace offering for their less fortunate friend, then went back to stroking the white hair, starting to chatter about the fun happenings in town. Occasionally, during this monologue (as Nagi barely bothered to open his mouth), Reo would make comparisons:

"That cat was so cute, black fur, blue eyes, just like Rin, and so aloof too—it almost scratched me when I got close..."

Nagi suddenly opened his eyes, his voice sleepy: "Mmm... the first time I met Rin, he looked like he was about to pounce and rip my hair out too, Reo..."—he reached for another muffin, stuffing it into his mouth.

Reo burst out laughing, leaning back against the couch. Their laughter mingled, filling the warm room. Outside the window, the chamomile petals quivered slightly in the wind, as if sharing in this sweet moment. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dancing spots of light on the floor, creating a picture so perfect it was hard to believe.

.

.

.

.

.

Kaiser raised an eyebrow slightly, unconsciously comparing the human brat before him to... a cat. A strange comparison, yet it felt incredibly fitting.

Yes, that was exactly it. A strange creature, sometimes flexibly agile, other times bristling with wary claws. Sometimes it would give up entirely, lying motionless in the sun for hours as if nothing in the surrounding world concerned it anymore. And most importantly—both acted aloof and arrogant, yet were easily provoked by the smallest of tricks.

He slowly let his gaze drift over to Rin—who was now completely drained, with not an ounce of strength left to resist. Curled up in a fetal position beside the fireplace, his vacant jade-blue eyes were glued to the madly dancing flames, looking as though he'd rather plunge his head into them for release than turn around and look at Kaiser.

Kaiser suddenly felt... curious. He wondered, if he really let the boy touch the fire, would this kid have the courage? Or would he startle like a stray cat and then raise his claws to scratch him again?

A thought flashed: it would be truly interesting to witness a creature so both proud and vulnerable.

Thinking this, he couldn't help but let out a low, amused chuckle. Immediately, he saw the back in front of him stiffen slightly, followed by a clear, cold voice snapping out without a second thought:

"Piss off!"

"But this is my domain?"

"Then piss off out of your domain."

"...Should you really think about what you just said for a moment?" – Kaiser couldn't hold back another burst of delighted laughter. Seriously, this human was just too amusing.

"Hey, little human brat, what's your name?"

"..." – Rin didn't reply, utterly unwilling to open his mouth and start any meaningless conversation.

Kaiser didn't give up. He slowly sat up—the blanket Rin had snatched earlier had somehow found its way back onto his person—and shrugged lazily. The snakes on his head also writhed as if doing post-nap stretches. Kaiser leaned against the back of the couch and continued:

"I am Michael Kaiser," – his voice rang out, full of pride, its resonance like a bell echoing in the room – "the supreme master of this castle. And... according to human folklore, I am the so-called Medusa descendant or something." – He grimaced, his disdain so profound the snakes on his head collectively frowned – "Tsk... such a rustic and narrow-minded title. I am an independent, powerful entity, far beyond the cheap fairy tales you humans concoct. Those names are merely your attempts to explain things that lie beyond your mundane comprehension."

He stretched extravagantly, as if just waking from a long slumber. The flickering firelight cast his silhouette onto the wall, creating a magnificent, strange shape.

"Though, now that I think about it, it's been ages since I went outside," – his voice suddenly deepened, his metallic blue eyes seeming to gaze into a distant past – "The last time I encountered humans was probably about 300 years ago. I turned some useless bunch to stone... they seemed to be chasing a weak family or something. Tsk..." – he let out a contemptuous sigh – "I hate nothing more than weaklings who assert their meaningless strength upon those even weaker. Pathetic... And yet those kids weren't even grateful; they built a... what was it called? A village? Or a guild? Who cares, right next to my forest. It's not like I'm going to go and turn them all to stone now. Greedy, stupid, arrogant humans..."

He fell silent for a moment, his eyes not leaving Rin's huddled back. Then his voice came slowly, full of curiosity:

"But anyway, I did set up a barrier; fundamentally, no one should be able to get near this place..." – a mysterious smile played on his lips – "So I'm very curious, why exactly? You, this small, weak thing, managed to breach the boundary and enter here..."

Kaiser tilted his head slightly, the snakes on his head tilting in unison, as if genuinely pondering the question. His gaze no longer held contempt, but instead a deep curiosity and a strange glint of amusement.

"Or perhaps..." – his voice suddenly became soft, almost a whisper, deliberately drawing out the syllable in a provocative manner.

.

.

.

.

Rin frowned, unconsciously leaning forward and straining his ears. Damn it, he cursed inwardly, was blabbering on so loudly, and now at the crucial part then mumbles? Do you have any idea how infuriating that is? He shifted slightly on the rug, his fingers unconsciously digging into the soft fur. The curiosity felt like a swarm of ants crawling erratically under his skin, making him unbearably itchy.

Finally, after struggling with his pride, Rin surrendered again—he'd lost count of how many times he'd capitulated to this bastard. His voice rang out, deliberately feigning nonchalance but still betraying his impatience:

"What is it?? How did I get in?"

"..."

Done. Finished.

That clown fell silent again, just staring at him with that utterly amused look, as if enjoying a good play. That silence was more terrifying than any provocation. Veins throbbed on Rin's forehead in waves. The quiet anger he'd painstakingly rolled into a ball, chewed, and swallowed earlier began to flare up into a flickering flame, urging him to lunge over and strangle the lunatic sitting there so casually.

Rin clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug deep into his palms, leaving red marks. He swore inwardly that this would absolutely be the last time he let this bastard lead him by the nose. Without a word, without a sound, he resignedly bowed his head, fixing his eyes on the flames dancing wildly in the fireplace.

But the more he stared, the more it seemed even those flames were mocking him. The fire twisted and waved, the orange-yellow light flickering like a smug smile. You dare too? Rin glared harder, his sharp gaze seeming to want to slice through each individual flame. Wanna fight? You think I'm afraid of you???

His eyes were wide open, unblinking, barely moving, like an angry cat challenging its foe. The firelight reflected in his jade-blue eyes, turning them into two blazing coals.

...

.

.

Kaiser sat with one leg crossed over the other on the armchair, his elbow propped on the armrest, his long, slender fingers lightly tapping his cheek. His metallic blue eyes narrowed, observing the scene before him with immense delight. How fascinating—such a small creature could contain so many emotions. The anger made Rin's shoulders tremble slightly, pride evident in his ramrod-straight back, helplessness clear in his clenched fingers, and stubbornness radiated from every feature of his face peeking through his black hair.

Finally, Kaiser deigned to speak, his voice deep but laced with mockery:
"Hey, do you want to know why or not?" – He saw Rin's back flinch slightly, the muscles in his shoulders tensing and then relaxing. A satisfied smile spread across Kaiser's lips.

"Turn around. I'll tell you."

Rin's body remained motionless, but Kaiser could clearly see the hesitation in his every breath. His hands were clenched together, nails digging into his flesh. Kaiser shrugged, his tone casual:

"I'm wearing clothes now."

It was like a switch. Rin finally moved. His every action now seemed like a replay of a mime performance. His tense shoulders slowly relaxed, his neck turned to the side gradually—so slowly it was suspicious. His face gradually came into view, his jade-blue eyes darting a glance towards Kaiser before immediately widening. In that instant, Kaiser could read a whole sky of emotions: a flicker of curiosity, surging doubt, fleeting confusion, quickly turning into resignation and finally, utter fury.

Rin whipped his head back around with enough speed to chop the wind into a mini-storm, his hair flying out in a sharp black arc. Kaiser even heard a faint, highly entertaining crack.

And that's when he lost control. A burst of laughter exploded like fireworks:

"HAHAHAHA— WHAT— THE— HELL??"

Kaiser leaned back completely, clutching his stomach, laughing so hard his whole body shook with each convulsion. The blue snakes on his head also coiled and writhed as if laughing along with their master. He gasped for breath between fits of laughter:

"HOW CAN YOU— BE SO— GULLIBLE??? HAHAHA!!"

Of course… he was still stark naked.
Completely.
Not a single, pitiful scrap of cloth had been added.

Kaiser shook his head, tears of laughter welling in the corners of his eyes.
This human—or rather, this particular human—how could he be so gullible they were practically an endangered species?

After a long, gut-wrenching laugh, Kaiser finally quieted down, his breath still hitching, his face shining with unconcealed triumph. He quickly stabilized his feigned composure and spoke up, amused:

"Alright, no more jokes. Turn around. I'm really wearing clothes now."

But this time, of course, Rin didn't even bother to turn his head, not a single movement. Just as expected, Kaiser smiled with delight, slowly stood up, the blanket sliding to the floor with a suspicious rustle, and then...

Thud... thud... thud...

Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed in the silent space. Kaiser could clearly see every muscle fiber in Rin's back tense up as he approached. When he stood right in front of Rin, Kaiser saw him squeeze his eyes shut in resignation, his eyebrows furrowed so tightly they almost merged. A soft chuckle escaped Kaiser again as he sat cross-legged on the floor opposite, his unblinking blue eyes fixed on the other's face.

And then, for the first time, Kaiser truly took notice of this human brat's appearance.

His face was angular yet finely sculpted, sharp. Under the castle's cold light, his skin was so pale it was almost translucent, as if coated with a thin layer of silver. His hair, black with a blue-green sheen—a deep color like a pine forest at night—fell over his forehead, soft and delicate like carefully groomed crow feathers.

His elegant eyebrows were now tightly knit, forming a shallow crease between them—and that very frown made Rin's face beautiful in a... resigned sort of way. His long, thick, ink-black eyelashes fluttered faintly with each suppressed breath. They were like fragile moth wings trapped in a storm, revealing the tiny sliver of unease Rin was still trying to hide.

His thin, naturally pale pink lips were pressed into a stubborn, straight line—both resolute and obstinate, as if Rin would rather die than admit he was panicking.

Tch.

Kaiser unconsciously clicked his tongue again, a thought flashing through his mind: If this guy really was the "soul-bond" Ness had mentioned, then at the very least, he was a soul-bond with... looks. Not bad at all. Kaiser's gaze slowly traced every line of Rin's face, like a collector admiring a rare piece of art.

.

.

.

.

Rin felt he was reaching his breaking point. All those years nurtured in peace—or at least, the peace as he defined it—the biggest annoyances he'd ever faced revolved around Shidou's provocatively teasing grin, Sae's stern, warning lectures, or simply the wary yet challenging looks from his peers—those "spicy but can't do anything about it" glances that secretly satisfied Rin. Those things, while irritating, were still within an acceptable range.

But now, he was forced to confront a bizarre creature that combined all three of those annoyances and amplified them exponentially. An unnamed fury rose in Rin's heart. He silently cursed eighteen generations of the shameless bastard's ancestors, disregarding the fact that his ancestors were probably mythical beings recorded in history books.

Who the hell cares? Rin even intensified his curses when he felt the pressure as the other began approaching again, then... stopped right in front of him. The undeniable presence forced Rin to tense up, straining with all his might to keep his line of sight pure. The warm breath from the front made Rin instinctively flinch back slightly, but he immediately stabilized himself, refusing to let his dignity be trampled for even a second longer.

So what? I'm keeping my eyes fucking shut. What are you gonna do, huh?

Rin bitterly swore on his honor, his eyelids still clamped shut like two blades. But right at that moment, a wave of icy cold touched his face directly, making his whole body jolt. Instinct took over; his eyes snapped open as if pulled by an invisible string.

The first image that hit him was the cold blue eyes of the person opposite, standing out eerily against the brilliant gold of the man's hair, along with that infuriatingly unpleasant smile... damn it. However, what caught Rin's attention now was the rough, cool sensation slowly rubbing against his cheekbone. He slowly lowered his head, his gaze following the feeling...

And his heart seemed to stop.

From amidst the other person's locks of hair, a blue snake—slightly thicker than a thumb—emerged. Its body twisted like a living ribbon, slithering along the line of Rin's cheek. Its forked tongue flicked out, landing a casual flick against his skin.

For a second, Rin's entire nervous system was switched to maximum shudder mode. Coldness rose from his feet, crawled up his spine, and shot straight to the top of his head like a giant ant climbing a power pole. Rin screamed inwardly—a choked "Ah—!" that never made it out—then jerked backward so fast even he didn't understand how his shoulders cooperated so well.

Unfortunately, the rest of his body wasn't as cooperative: Rin flailed, lost his balance, and tilted backward in a posture that promised a definite fall. But before he could greet the floor, a firm arm grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. The pull was so strong that the two were almost locked together in a stance that was both tense and... a little too close.

Rin's gaze dropped to the arm of the person—or rather, the arm of the person-who-might-not-be-a-person holding him. On the back of the hand was a birthmark or a strange crown-shaped pattern. From it, blue-black vine-like markings ran up the forearm, wrapping around each muscle fiber, disappearing under the sleeve only to reappear at the collarbone.

There, they bloomed into a blue rose so vivid that Rin felt hypnotized just looking at it. It took him three seconds to regain enough composure to think one thing:

"At least... this lunatic is wearing clothes now."

Kaiser narrowed his eyes at the slightly dazed boy in front of him, a smile playing on his lips. His metallic blue eyes squinted, flashing an unreadable glint. Slowly, he leaned in closer, so close they could feel each other's breath, and whispered:

"Hello, your soul-bond... quite the handsome one, aren’t I?"

Damn. It.

.

.

.

.

.

The Itoshi House, 19:47.

The kitchen was filled with the sweet aroma of butter and vanilla. On the dining table, a neat stack of golden-brown strawberry pancakes was arranged, with slices of plump, red strawberries artfully placed on top like a work of art. Next to them sat a glass of hand-squeezed strawberry milk, gradually cooling.

Shidou Ryusei, usually the noisiest in the house, was now suspiciously quiet. Propping his chin on his hand, his index finger tapped incessantly on the table surface, producing an irregular tap... tap... sound, his eyes glued to the wall clock.

"Why isn't Din Din back yet? The pancakes are getting cold!" Shidou whined, dragging out his words.

Sae Itoshi leaned against the kitchen frame, his cold gaze also flicking towards the clock. He still held the wooden spatula in his hand, even though the cooking had long been finished.

"Calm down. Perhaps they were having too much fun today and lost track of time." Sae's voice remained steady, but his fingers unconsciously twisting the wooden spatula betrayed his hidden impatience.

"What could take until 8 PM, Sae-chan? By now, we should be listening to Din Din complain about the pancakes being too sweet, and I should be fighting him for his strawberry slices!" – Shidou sprawled directly onto the table, his cheek pressed against the cool wood, his voice muffled and discontented.

Sae frowned slightly but didn't respond. His silence this time wasn't to quell Shidou's noise, but because a genuine concern was creeping in. This was really a bit... unusual.

Because Rin—a creature of strict routines and fixed schedules—almost never broke his immutable timetable. Every day, at exactly 5 PM, the Itoshi gate would make a familiar sound, signaling the second son's return from school. From 5:30 to 6:30, Rin would be in his room, a time he designated as his "do not disturb quiet time." At 7 PM sharp, he would appear at the dinner table, eating in silence, his jade-blue eyes quickly scanning the dishes Shidou had prepared, sometimes accompanied by grumbles like "Too salty" or "The fish is a bit dry," but never refusing the best pieces of meat Shidou served him.

After dinner, from 8 to 9 PM, Rin would curl up in his favorite reading chair in the living room, engrossed in those supernatural, fantastical books he always insisted were "logical and scientifically based." And precisely at 9:15 PM, when Shidou brought out a cup of hot milk with a few drops of honey, Rin would look displeased, frowning at the milk as if it were poison, before finally "reluctantly" taking it and drinking it all under Sae's satisfied gaze, then silently heading upstairs to bed.

A clock that usually ran with precision down to the minute. Yet today, the clock hand had moved past 8 PM, and Rin's chair remained empty.

Not normal at all.

Sae began tapping the armrest of his chair, the dry thump... thump... sound punctuating his growing irritation. Just as he was about to stand up abruptly—knock knock—the sound of knocking echoed, tearing through the tense atmosphere.

Shidou immediately shot up from the sofa like a spring, his face bright as a spring day, muttering as he ran towards the door, preparing a whole speech of affectionate scolding, "DinDin, you—"

But Sae froze. His eyebrows furrowed so deeply you could probably wedge a piece of paper between them. Unlike Shidou, not blinded by emotion, an icy premonition swept down his spine:

Rin. Never. Knocked. When. Coming. Home.

So when click!—the door opened—and standing there were two figures who were definitely not Rin, Shidou, ready to launch into his spiel, choked on the spot.

He stared, pointing: "Huh?! Spiky hair and white head? What are you two doing here??" – Then he even craned his neck to look behind them—searching for the familiar figure—found none, and finally, that sense of unease began crawling up his nape.

Reo, still holding the box of strawberry pancakes, paused for a second, but then walked straight into the living room and placed the box on the table as if it were the most natural thing. He glanced around and asked:

"Huh? Where's Rin, you two? I don't see him?" – Before Sae or Shidou could open their mouths, Reo continued: "Nagi and I went to the area south of the Smue River today, saw these freshly made strawberry pancakes, so we bought some for Rin. Call him down to eat, or they'll get cold."

Nagi shrugged, his signature sleepy voice:

"Did Rin go to bed early today?"

Both were completely at ease, confident in their understanding of Rin's schedule—bringing pancakes after dinner time, treating it as dessert. They were even picturing Rin coming down sleepily.

…Until they looked up at Sae and Shidou.

The two older brothers' faces were as pale as if drained of blood, and Shidou blurted out a trembling question:

"Huh...? Hey... WHAT? DinDin wasn't with you guys?!"

Reo blinked: "Huh? What are you talking about, Shidou-san? Why would Rin be with us—"

Reo glanced at the blood-drained faces of the two, then at the kitchen where the food was still being kept warm, then connected it to Shidou's question. The neurons started linking up. A beat later— Reo shot upright as if electrocuted:

"Wait a minute—Rin ISN'T home with you two???"

Shidou also yelled out reflexively:
"NO! We thought Rin was with you!!!"

Then.

Silence.
A silence so profound you could hear the individual nerve fibers of all four people twitching.

They looked at each other.
Then looked at the two strawberry pancakes lying superfluously on the table.
Then looked up again, into each other's eyes, all holding the same unspoken worry.

And in unison, like a curse:

"...Damn. It."

Chapter Text

“So let me get this straight… what are you, exactly? My ‘bonded soul’? Mine? You?? YOU?!” –  Rin glared at the creature in front of him–this shameless, thick-skinned excuse for a lifeform that had finally decided to drape a scrap of cloth over itself, as if it belonged to a civilized species.

Good lord. Bloody hell.

“Hey, I can read that contempt.” – Kaiser shrugged, taking another unhurried sip of tea, eyes never leaving Rin for even a second.

“Because that's exactly what I was going for, you psycho.” – Rin hissed through clenched teeth.

Kaiser laughed–a dry, hollow burst that cut off abruptly, leaving the room drowning in a stifling silence. So quiet Rin could hear the tap… tap… of rain pelting the castle window. Every so often, thunder tore through the sky, and a strip of white lightning swept past, washing the room in a sickly pale glare and stretching their shadows long and warped across the cold stone wall.

Rin stared.
Then closed his eyes.
Then opened them and stared some more.

…Alright. Fine. He exhaled sharply and muttered:
“Okay. Then how the hell do I get out of here? It’s almost evening.”

Dinner time soon. What’s Shidou making today? Weirdly, he was craving cake. Soft, sweet, fragrant… ideally strawberry shortcake. Hopefully Nii-chan managed to pick up a few ripe, juicy strawberries at the market–none of those vinegar-sour disasters from last time–

Wait. Focus, idiot.

Rin jolted his thoughts away from cakes and strawberries, refocusing his glare on the bastard across from him. Michael Kaiser. Yeah, he remembers the name now. Out of basic human decency–or rather, the bare minimum of self-preservation–he's forced to memorize the identity of the guy who nearly turned him into a stone statue.

Rule number three in Shidou’s personally taught “survival handbook”:
“If you get killed, remember the name of what did it–so you can bite it to death in your next life.”

Rin glanced down at the teacup still glued to Kaiser’s hand. Finally–after an hour of absolute misery–the guy set it on the table. Seriously, was there a species out there capable of nursing one cup of tea for a full hour? Magic that extends tea’s lifespan? A heat-preserving spell? Or was this idiot simply born to sit around, steep in nonsense, and drive other people insane?

Rin was putting his money on the third. No contest. Out of the three possibilities–“unhinged,” “pervert,” and “mythical-grade lunatic”–this man had collected the full set.

“Well… I don’t know.” – the blond said with an innocent little shrug, lips twitching upward, eyebrow lifting in that obnoxious, taunting way that practically screamed: I don’t know, and I’m enjoying not knowing.

“...You don’t know?” – Rin repeated, his voice dropping.

"Yep, how would I know? This is the first time I've encountered this situation too. Who would've thought, on a rainy day like this, I'd just happen to pick up my 'other half'? Pretty magical meeting, huh?”

…A “magical meeting,” my ass.

It felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water straight onto Rin's brain. The phrase "other half" echoed in his head, growing louder and more wrong with each repetition. Goosebumps broke out in patches, and a chill shot down his spine. And then, as if to escalate this whole experience from "unpleasant" straight to "nightmare," the bastard had the gall to… wink.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
So utterly punchable.

In that moment, Rin could almost hear the sound of his last shred of rationality snapping. A full-body shudder ran from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, making him instantly stumble back two steps, his heels scraping harshly against the stone floor. He nearly roared:

"Goddamn it, don't say disgusting shit like that!!! I'd rather be the lower half of a cockroach!!!"

“Aw, don’t say that–your ‘other half’ will be hurt, you know!”

“THEN JUST DIE!!!”

Rin hissed, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as if he'd just sprinted three kilometers. He closed his eyes briefly, desperately rummaging through the entire repository of "moral education" Shidou had crammed into his head over the years, reciting it like a mantra:

Stay calm. No violence. No killing people, or any mythological creatures. No swearing more than three times in a row in front of strangers…

He failed at the very first rule.

"Alright, calm down… listen…" –  Rin growled, his teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached.

"I am very calm," – Kaiser replied.

"I wasn't talking to you," – Rin ground out, his eye twitching. –  "Listen, whatever the reason is, you should let me go now, right?"

He took a deep breath, trying to sound half a degree more reasonable:

"I already told you, that damn door was mocking me earlier. You're… whatever you are, the master, the ruler, the goddamn door-keeping monkey, or whatever the hell–"  – Rin waved his hand wildly around the room  –  "But at least you should be able to do something, right? Stop standing there sipping tea and spouting nonsense about 'other halves,' just open the door and let me out, got it?!"

Finally, Kaiser straightened up. The lazy, sprawled posture vanished. His back was ramrod straight, his hands placed on his knees, fingers tightly interlaced. His lips pressed together slightly, the usual curve at the corner of his mouth gone, replaced by a rare solemnity. His gaze also sharpened, like a blade unsheathed, making Rin's own heart tense up unconsciously.

"...What?" – Rin mumbled, his voice noticeably quieter.

"Human. I'll be straight with you."

The way he said it–calm, measured, as if preparing to deliver a verdict–made Rin swallow hard. The air between them grew heavy.

"First," – Kaiser began slowly, word by word, – "right now, I can't open the door and let you out. It's not that I don't want to, it's… I truly cannot."

Rin frowned, his guard immediately shooting up:
"What do you mean?"

Kaiser didn’t answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows lifting a fraction before his voice unexpectedly dropped, low and heavy:

"Petrification."

His metallic blue eyes flashed with a cold light. The snakes lazily coiled on his head all raised their heads in unison, their eyes blinking, mirroring their master's gaze. In that instant, a thin wave of light swept through the room, licking over the stone walls, the tiled floor, then surged towards Rin like a tide.

This was the third time witnessing this scene. Rin should have been used to it by now. But his heart still skipped a beat. He didn't understand why this lunatic had suddenly decided to try petrifying him again, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to close his eyes, staring intently until the end.

The result… nothing happened at all.

The light snuffed out as if it never existed. The snakes slowly writhed, settling back into Kaiser's blond hair, their eyes drowsy again as if never awakened. Kaiser let out a very soft sigh, then calmly stated:

"You see. My curse… it doesn't latch onto you."

Rin blinked.
"...Are you confessing to being incompetent?"

"No." – The corner of Kaiser's mouth twitched slightly, but he still didn't smile. "I told you earlier. It's because you are my soulmate."

Rin fell silent for a moment.
His brain did one loop.
Then two.
"...And so?"

Kaiser exhaled very softly, tilting his head as if searching for the simplest words to explain to a child:

"A soulmate bond means, your soul and mine are tethered to the same axis. All my magic, whether offensive, defensive, or coercive, is inherently barred from directly affecting the other half of the bond."

He raised a hand, tracing a small circle in the air. A faint glimmer of light appeared, then died the moment it touched the space around Rin:

"I tried just now. Opening a portal, extracting a soul from a bounded space, even the simplest teleportation spell. The pact nullifies them all." – He lowered his hand, his gaze settling on Rin. – "To put it simply, if I try to force magic on you, it either fizzles out… or it backfires and bites me."

Rin frowned.
“…So if I get free, you’re screwed?”

"Not that extreme." – Kaiser shook his head slightly. –  "But if anything bad were to happen because I forced magic on you, the pact would punish me first. It's a fundamental term of the soul bond: you cannot use your power to restrain the other half of the soul."

Seeing Rin still looking a bit stunned, he shrugged and adopted a more casual tone:
"All that explanation and you still don't get it, you idiot? Basically, normally when I have a guest–and I mean a proper guest, not an illegal trespasser like you–I just cast a teleport spell on them and send them straight outside. Job done."

He spread his hands, miming tossing someone out a window, then added nonchalantly:
"With such a convenient spell, who has the time to fumble around in that endless, pitch-dark corridor? But that normal method doesn't work on you, you abnormality."

The corner of Rin's mouth twitched.
"Second," – Kaiser looked up at the ceiling, where the faint light veins of the castle were creeping like roots. "This castle isn't just stone and walls. It has a soul of its own. It listens, it sees, it remembers. And right now… it's claimed you."

Rin's eyes widened:
"Claimed? Since when? I never signed anything!"

"Bringing your whole soul here was enough." – Kaiser glanced at him, his tone flat. – "The castle recognized the bond between you and me, and it… latched on. Like finding another thread to weave in. Now, if I try to kick you out, it would mean I'd have to tear away a piece it just accepted."

He paused for a moment, concluding succinctly:
"It doesn't like that."

Right then, a faint cracking sound echoed from somewhere on the stone wall, like someone flicking glass. Rin wasn't sure if it was his imagination or real, but he felt the air in the room thicken, grow heavier. The rain outside continued steadily, but a strange clamor rose in his mind.

"So I'm being…"  – Rin struggled to find the words, "…held back by an entire castle?"

“More specifically, the castle’s soul.”

“Not helping.”

"So, to sum it up…" – Kaiser ignored him – "even if I wanted to kick you out to restore peace and quiet, I can't. The castle is keeping you here. And my magic can't touch you to pull you out. A two-layered blockade."

Rin was speechless for a few seconds:
"So, to put it bluntly, I'm a pet that the half-baked soul of a crazy castle has taken a liking to, and you can only stand by helplessly and watch?"

“That sounds a bit insulting, but…”  – Kaiser nodded, not bothering to argue – “…more or less.”

Rin took a deep breath. It felt like every curse word he knew was lining up, demanding to be used. But in the end, he just pinched the bridge of his nose and gritted his teeth.

"Fine. So what are you gonna do?"

Kaiser was silent for a long moment. His gaze left Rin, settling on the faintly pulsing runes on the stone walls, as if listening to a very soft rhythm.

“…I need time.” – he finally said – “A soul bond, the castle's will, a three-way bind… it's not something you can undo in an afternoon. I need to review the pact, reread some long-forgotten forbidden arts, and… talk to it.”

"Talk to it?" – Rin raised an eyebrow.

"The castle's soul. It doesn't speak with words, but it will answer. If I can understand what it wants from you, then I can find a way to negotiate your release without getting you torn apart."

Each of Kaiser's words felt like a bone stuck in Rin's throat–swallowing it was infuriating, but spitting it out… was illogical.

"And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

Kaiser turned back. This time, the usual mockery in his eyes was gone, replaced by a clarity that Rin found hard to dismiss.

"In the meantime, you'll live here temporarily. Eat, sleep, move within the areas the castle permits. Avoid getting tangled up with the unpleasant spirits on the lower floors. And curse at me a little less, so I can focus."

"No promises." –  Rin shot back reflexively.

The corner of Kaiser's mouth quirked up slightly, as if that was exactly the answer he'd expected.
Rin hated that kind of smile the most.

"Alright then, go ahead and rage all you want. The castle likes noise. I don't mind it either."

"…How long?" –  Rin asked, already knowing the answer would be miserable.

"Until I figure it out."

That didn't make Rin feel any better, but at least… he understood one thing:

He wasn't just trapped by a blond lunatic.
He was being kept by an entire castle with a soul.
And worse yet, both of those things seemed… very pleased about him staying.

.

.

.

.

.

Bullshit.
It was all a load of bullshit.

Looking at Rin's bewildered expression, his eyes wide like they were about to pop out, Kaiser almost burst out laughing right then and there. He tried so hard to maintain that slick, emotionless poker face, as if this was a serious lecture between a master of magic and an ignorant mortal, and not a blatant scam.

"First of all." – Kaiser began, deliberately lowering his voice and speaking slowly  – "you have to understand one thing, my curse doesn't latch onto you."

That was… partially true.
Or at least, it sounded true enough.
It can't latch on… because I'm not willing to pay the price to make it do so. That's a whole different story, little soul.

"...Are you confessing to being incompetent?"

"No." – You damn brat, Kaiser answered, struggling not to flip the table  – "I already told you. It's because you're my soulmate."

As the word "soulmate" left his lips, something deep within the castle gave a slight, answering tremor.

"A soulmate bond mean, your soul and mine are tethered to the same axis. All my magic, whether offensive, defensive, or coercive, is inherently barred from directly affecting the other half of the bond."

Rin frowned, clearly still skeptical.
Good. Skeptical but not outright denying it–that's the easiest gray area to manipulate.

Kaiser raised his hand, tracing a magic circle in the air. A flash of magical light appeared, only to fizzle out the moment it touched the space around Rin, as if swallowed by something.
That action was real.
The pact's reaction was real.
It's just… he knew a few ways to circumvent it, methods he absolutely wouldn't mention.

"I tried earlier. Opening a portal, extracting a soul from a bounded space, even the simplest teleportation spell. The pact nullifies them all." – He lowered his hand, his gaze settling on Rin. – "To put it simply, if I try to force magic on you, it either fizzles out… or it backfires and bites me."

"...So if I get to walk free, you'd drop dead?"

"Not that extreme." – he shook his head slightly, his voice steady and low, just enough to sow a hint of worry, just enough to sound like he was considering the other person's well-being – "But if anything bad were to happen because I forced magic on you, the pact would punish me first. That's a fundamental condition of the bond: you cannot use your own power to restrain the other half of the soul."

Of course, if I'm willing to endure the pain and lose some magical power, I could still try, he continued calmly in his mind, not batting an eye. But why would I do that, when you've delivered yourself to the castle's doorstep like a perfect research subject?

"...And also, the castle has chosen you."

The runes on the stone ceiling flickered with light. Kaiser heard it, in the way only he could. The castle's soul coiled around him, whispering in a language not of words: curiosity, delight, and something akin to... agreement. The corner of Kaiser's lip twitched as he quickly sketched out half-truths. After letting him ramble on for a while, Rin finally spoke up, his tone laced with helplessness and reluctant resignation:

"So what are you gonna do now?"

Kaiser paused for a beat, pretending to deliberate, as if shouldering a hundred layers of magic arrays and lofty responsibilities.

Keep you here.
Observe you.
Dissect you–mentally, of course, for now. Peel back every layer of memory, every seam of your soul's structure, to find out what current truly threw you here... and to what purpose...

"...I need time. A soul bond, the castle's will, a three-way bind… it's not something you can undo in an afternoon. I need to review the pact, reread some long-forgotten forbidden circles, and… talk to it."

"Talk to it?"

"The castle's soul. It doesn't speak with words, but it answers. If I can understand what it wants from you, then I can find a way to negotiate your release without getting you torn apart."

Or force it.
But you don't need to know about that. 
It sounded like concern for the other person, but no, it was all for the sake of research.

Deep down, he knew clearly: if he truly wanted to, a few layers of the castle's binding could be forcibly undone. He was the keyholder, the anchor of this place's soul. But the price would be a crack in the connection between him and the castle–something he had nurtured for years.

Trade away an entire ancient magical network just to send back an interesting soul?
That would be the truly foolish act.

"So, what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"In the meantime…" – he said without needing to think long  – "you'll live here temporarily. Eat, sleep, move within the areas the castle permits. Avoid getting tangled up with the unpleasant spirits on the lower floors. And curse at me a little less, so I can focus."

"...No promises.”

"Alright then, go ahead and rage all you want. The castle likes noise. I don't mind it either."

Kaiser shrugged, with an annoyingly magnanimous air.

Because at the very least, as long as you're making a racket, I know you're still here.
Still belonging to this place.
Still belonging to–

Kaiser cut off that train of thought before the word could fully form. He turned away, reaching for the teacup that had gone cold. Right then, a very faint tremor passed through the palm of his hand, spreading from the base of the cup into his skin.

The castle is laughing.

"...How long?"

Kaiser looked at him, his blue eyes growing somber. The castle around them also quieted, the light veins on the walls pulsing slowly in sync with his heartbeat.

How long…? Until I get bored.
Or until you break and reveal what I need.

"Until I find a way." – he replied, his voice smooth, not missing a beat.

Rin pressed his lips together, clearly still furious, but finding no opening to press further. He turned his face away, muttering a string of curses too low to be clear. Kaiser silently observed, a slight sense of calm settling within him. Rin's soul was bright, stubborn, full of sharp edges–the kind of soul the castle would remember for a long time…

…and so would he.

.

In the silence, a faint, thin vibration trembled from somewhere within the stone walls–the castle's soul… unexpectedly nudged his "shoulder." Not a literal shoulder, but the feeling was exactly the same: annoying, provocative, and itching for trouble.

Hey, wait a minute– a sound brushed against his consciousness, drawn out like wind whistling through a corridor–it just occurred to me… Kaiser, you bastard, you just dumped the whole villain hat on my head, didn't you? I wasn't the one holding him back. The door only reacted to YOUR command, you shameless one.

Kaiser tapped his fingers rhythmically on his knee, his outward expression still icy, while replying leisurely in his mind: Do you want him to stay or not?

Well… yes?

You like him running around the corridors, right?

…Yes.

Then shut up.

An insultingly silent pause hung in the air. Finally, the castle growled:

…Damn you, may you die lonely.

I've been with you for hundreds of years; being lonely or not is thanks to you, you jealous thing, Kaiser thought nonchalantly, completely ignoring the annoyed magical current twitching irritably around his feet.

Outwardly, he merely lifted his gaze, as if no silent argument had just taken place, and looked directly at Rin. His voice lowered, resonating through the room like a gentle wave:

"Alright then, human,"–the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly–"at the very least, isn't it time you told me your name?"

Opposite him, a flash of complex emotion lit up the boy's eyes: annoyance, wariness, frustration… and then it all collapsed into a thin layer of reluctant acceptance. He mumbled, as if each word was being dragged out of his mouth:

"Rin. Itoshi Rin."

"Rin…”– Kaiser repeated, letting the name roll slowly on his tongue. A strange sensation ran down his spine, as if an invisible cord tightened, the pact between their souls sinking one notch deeper. The corner of his mouth quirked up further, almost in satisfaction:

"Alright, Rin. For at least the next few days, let's try to get along, shall we?"

He extended his hand. Rin looked at it as if it were a trap, hesitated for a long moment, but still slowly reached out and touched it. Rin's hand was colder than he expected, but not a deathly cold–more like the chill of someone just pulled from the wind and rain, not yet warmed up. Kaiser's smile widened, and Rin's face instantly showed he wanted to yank his hand back.

Rin, he thought, his fingers tightening slightly in that seemingly polite handshake, let's see… just where you'll lead me.

..

.

.

.

.

The Itoshi Household
Night.

"Damn it… damn it… damn it…" – Shidou hissed for what felt like the hundredth time, pacing the room like a caged animal. His voice was hoarse from repeating the same words– "Not at the guild. Not at the kids' houses. No one's seen him since morning… so where the hell could that brat have gone?"

Reo followed close behind, his face devoid of all color:
"I've asked everyone. They only saw Rin heading towards the riverbank… then he vanished. No one saw him come back. No one."

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms without him noticing. A shaky breath escaped him:
"…Rin has never been gone this long without telling anyone. Oh, damn it, damn it, damn it!!!!"

Nagi sat slumped at the dining table, the box of pancakes still unopened. He stared at it, not because he wanted it, but because… Rin should have been sitting here, right across from him.

"…If Rin doesn't come back soon," – Nagi said quietly, "the pancakes will get cold. And Rin doesn't like cold pancakes. Reheated ones aren't good anymore either."

That wasn't a complaint.
It was worry.
The kind of worry Nagi wasn't good at expressing.

The room was so silent you could hear everyone's ragged breathing.
The only one who hadn't spoken yet was Sae. He was still leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside the window. His face showed no emotion, but the tension in his jawline spoke louder than any words.

Sae's silence was always the worst sign.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and heavy as lead:
"If Rin isn't back by tomorrow morning…" A pause. Shidou and Reo held their breath. "…then he's gone into the forest."

The air froze instantly.
The forest.
Zonara–the place no one wanted to enter.

Reo stammered:
"But… but… The Smue River connects to… the north…"

Shidou frowned deeply:
"Rin was warned, right? Surely he wouldn't go in there?"

But no one said anything; nothing was certain, especially not a story about a legend hidden somewhere in the mists of the northern Zonara forest. Finally, Sae let out a sharp breath and said:
"Tomorrow morning, I'm going into the forest to find him."

It wasn't a proposal.
It wasn't a hypothesis.
There was no "if" or "but."
It was just absolute fact.

The space was dead silent. Rin had been gone for less than a day.
But everyone felt as if the world had tilted off its axis.
If the forest really swallowed him– Sae would tear the entire forest apart to bring Rin back.

.

.

.

.

.

Zonara Forest
North

The castle’s dining hall was so vast that even the sound of breathing echoed. Candlelight stretched across the cold stone table, glinting off the silver plate before Rin–which held a piece of meat of an ambiguous shape, a color somewhere between red and gray, as if it had developed a soul of its own and was now… staring back at him.

Rin frowned, his face shadowed in the firelight. He forced himself to swallow the first bite, feeling like he’d just accepted a survival challenge from the gods.

“Your cooking is fucking disgusting.” – Rin rasped, setting his fork down with enough force for the clatter to reverberate. The strange scent of the meat still rose from the plate, greasy yet impossible to place as any known creature. Rin swore the thing was challenging him: Eat if you dare.

Is this karma for lying and complaining about Shidou’s cooking before?
Will this kill me instantly… or slowly?
Damn it, Shidou, if I see you again, I swear I’ll never call your curry a culinary disaster again!

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who’s over a decade old and still can’t tell a bread knife from a carving knife,” –  Kaiser remarked languidly from the other side of the table, having quietly cast a taste-altering spell on himself before taking a bite of the meat–hmm, tastes like water.

“Besides, the one who’s hungry is you, and the one who doesn’t know how to cook is also you. You should be grateful that I’m kind enough not to let my ‘other half,’ whom I just met half a day ago, starve to death, little human.” – He dabbed his mouth politely.

“I told you not to call me that. I have a name. I’m not your ‘other half,’ and I’m sure as hell not ‘little human.’” – Rin gritted out, stabbing the meat violently with his fork.

“Alright, Rin.”

The moment the name left his lips, the pact inside him tightened slightly, but Kaiser showed no sign of it.

Rin scowled, looked down at his plate, then muttered:
“…Actually, just call me ‘human.’ That makes my skin crawl too.”

“Too late, Rin.”

“Damn it.” – Rin exhaled, his shoulders slumping.

The room fell silent again, save for the candlelight and the sound of Rin’s fork aggressively clinking against the cursed meat.

Finally, after more than ten minutes of wrestling with the soul-tormenting meal, Rin managed to force the last bite down his throat–each swallow making him question what sins he’d committed in a past life.

The meal was over.

“Dear god… a creature who’s lived this long and still can’t cook a decent meal? What the hell are you?”

Kaiser sat opposite him, calmly wiping each finger with a napkin, looking as composed as if he’d just served a perfect banquet.

“A creature who’s lived a long time but has no desire to cook. If you really want the answer.”

Rin looked up, his expression as if he’d just swallowed a fly. His eyes darted around before he finally couldn’t hold back and asked:

 “I’ve been wondering since earlier. If even you need to eat, then what do they…” – Rin pointed at the snakes coiling lazily on Kaiser’s head, who were now curiously eyeing him– “…eat?”

Kaiser shrugged, wiping his hands:
“As you can see, they suck nutrients from my brain.”

Rin scowled so hard he looked like he was about to throw up. “Ew–??”

Thump! The largest snake on the left headbutted Kaiser’s cheek, as if knocking in protest. Another one bit a strand of blond hair, trying to tug it as if to speak up, but with only two tiny fangs, it ended up losing its grip. The hair strand slipped free and spun through the air like a ribbon. Kaiser frowned. Rin watched the spectacle wide-eyed and muttered:

“Is this… a protest?”

Kaiser sighed in resignation:

“Yeah, actually, they’re picky eaters. They eat when they feel like it, or not at all. Look…” – He cut a small piece of meat and held it up. The snakes immediately recoiled, twisting away as if he were offering them world-ending poison. One of them even rolled behind Kaiser’s hair to hide – “See? A bunch of picky brats.”

Rin shot him a look:

“Have you ever considered it might be because that thing is objectively not edible? Also, you bastard–I swear I’m not believing a single word that comes out of your mouth ever again.”

“Oh, come on.” – Kaiser shrugged, setting it down with perfect calm –  “Post-dinner entertainment.”

.

.

.

.

45 Minutes Later

After bathing in a ridiculously huge, fantastical bathtub–really, a natural hot spring in real life without any admission fee, don't even ask about the clothes, Rin didn't want to remember exactly how old the set he was currently wearing might be–Rin found himself back in the first room. He was curled up on a long couch, like a cat mistakenly thrown into a stranger's house, his legs drawn tightly to his chest, shoulders slightly hunched, as if holding himself just a little tighter could erect a thin shell against this entire unfamiliar room. The firelight from the fireplace opposite danced, casting faint streaks of light through the dark space.

The half-sated feeling from the recent meal still lingered in his stomach, an uncomfortable, floating sensation. The strange scent of the meat had faded, but the feeling of having just survived a survival test remained. And yet, within this warm, hazy atmosphere, the fatigue in his body slowly morphed, drifting into... emptiness.

He didn't know when the stream of thoughts began trickling through his head. At first, it was just a few scattered notions, light as a passing breeze, touching and then drifting away. But gradually, they slowed, tangled together, hesitating like a lost fragment of memory searching endlessly for an exit. Rin lifted his eyes to the firelight, staring so intently that his eyes began to sting slightly. But what appeared before him wasn't the flames, but a vast, breathlessly wide expanse of nothingness. In that moment, his heart suddenly skipped a beat, as if someone had silently pulled away something important.

Why does this feel so strange…? What would I normally be doing at this time…?

The question flashed naturally, pulling him back in time to those familiar evenings.

On ordinary days, after the sun had fully set and the chilly wind seeped through the cracks of the doors, he wouldn't be curled up in some strange place. Instead, he'd be in his own living room–smaller, noisier, but warm in a way this castle could never be. Rin would burrow deep into the sofa, wrapped in a blanket up to his chin, an old, dog-eared book in hand. His tired eyes would skim the lines: sometimes a thrilling legend, his heart racing with every page; sometimes those old, worn-out myths, but he'd read them over and over like a safe habit.

Occasionally, Reo and Nagi would wander over. No big reason needed, just passing by, or… simply out of habit. The three of them would huddle together, talking about everything under the sun, dragging out all the silly things that happened that day to dissect, laughing until Shidou had to shout up from the kitchen.

Other times, his parents would pass by. Mom often went down to bake with Shidou, the oven crackling, the warm smell of butter spreading through the house, clinging to the curtains, the sleeves, even Rin's hair. Dad would always appear with an armful of old books, huffing and puffing, muttering about unearthing a new "treasure" from some forgotten corner of the guild. Rin would silently take them, running his fingers along the worn edges of the books without a word, listening to the rustle of pages like a familiar greeting. He'd only drag himself to bed when Sae walked over, frowning and grumbling a few words, then shoving a cup of hot milk into his hand as if it were a nightly ritual that had to be completed.

Compared to all that noise, grumbling, the smell of butter, the sound of turning pages, friends' laughter… this room was disturbingly quiet.

Rin looked into the fire again. It was the same fire, the same fireplace, but the feeling in his chest was completely different from when he first appeared here. Back then, he only felt frustration, disbelief, bitterness at being trapped. Now, amidst this excessive silence, a stubborn, unnamable longing smoldered in his heart.

Ah… Suddenly… missed everyone so much. By now, they must know I'm not just out playing. Probably… no, definitely Nii-chan and the others are already planning to turn the whole village upside down. I hope they don't go into the forest; it's too dangerous. I don't want anyone to have to brave the rain, to slip and fall, for anyone to possibly be threatened by some non-human creature. Not at all.

Evenings really do make people weak-hearted.

Rin burrowed deeper into the blanket–the warm blanket from this afternoon. The fabric brushed against his cheek, the warmth seeping into his skin, but it couldn't fill the emptiness that had just opened up in his chest. He pulled the blanket a little higher, as if wrapping himself tighter could cover up the longing that was welling up, silent yet stubbornly refusing to settle.

.

.

Thud! The door creaked open with a dry crack, slicing through the thick, cold air of the room. Rin flinched violently, nearly leaping up by instinct like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. But when his eyes registered who had just poked their head in, all his defensive energy… fizzled out. Not from relief. No. It was the bitter resignation of someone who already knew their bad day could always get worse.

Rin growled, his voice hoarse from the cold and sheer indignation:

"What now??!!"

Kaiser–wearing a set of pajamas that Rin swore were the most flamboyant he’d ever seen, a pair that even Shidou's signature magenta would concede defeat and abdicate the throne–shrugged, his annoying voice chiming in:

"Calm down, little soul," – he drawled. "I just popped in to see if you’d frozen to death yet."

Rin burrowed deeper into the blanket like a creature whose last nerve had been touched, muttering:
"Only if you take my blanket away…"

"More precisely, my blanke." –  the man replied lazily before strolling in, slow and deliberate. The soft shuffling of his slippers somehow struck Rin’s alert nerves directly. Rin tracked his every step, eyes narrowed, body tensed like a coiled spring. It was only when Kaiser stopped right in the middle of the room and sank into the armchair opposite the couch Rin was lying on that Rin relaxed a grand total of three percent of his defense system. He hesitated for a second–should he sit up properly like a 'guest'? Was sprawling out like this… too rude? Too improper?

Then his Rin-brand self-respect immediately shot back the answer:
No. I'm the guest here. I have every right to lie here like a dead fish and make the host uncomfortable.

Decision made in a flash, Rin pulled the blanket up to his chin, just a few layers short of confidently declaring, "I belong to the Lepidoptera order" But the weird thing was–Kaiser didn’t say a thing. No teasing. No sarcastic remarks.

He just… stared.
At him.

Goosebumps immediately prickled on Rin’s skin in the most annoying way. Already cold and tired, now he was being stared at like some pet show. Unable to stand the feeling of being dominated, he lifted his gaze, glaring back challengingly.

And of course, the bastard took that as an invitation to battle. Kaiser raised an eyebrow in response, his gaze sharp as if saying: Bring it on, little one.

One minute.
Two minutes.
Five minutes.

The room descended into a strange stalemate, governed by the most pointless staring contest in history. The fireplace’s firelight danced silently on the two pairs of locked eyes: one icy blue, full of provocative challenge; the other aquamarine, brimming with wariness and irritation.

Finally, Rin–for a reason not yet explained by the heavens–was the one to surrender. He let out a sharp sigh, the feeling of having lost too many times today making his self-respect tremble and threaten to file for divorce from his body.

Any gods currently bored enough to watch this farce, please erase me from the universe.

Rin muttered, his voice a hiss through his teeth:
"If you came to check if I’m dead, you can fucking leave now."

The corner of Kaiser’s lip twitched upward, a victory smile that was both minuscule and infuriating.

"Come on, who touched a nerve?"

"You." Rin shot back instantly.

The conversation plummeted into another dead end. Kaiser’s lip twitched again. 
This damn, insolent little brat.

.

Then, without warning, his voice dropped–different this time.

“Rin.” He said his name, not human or kid. “The castle says… you’re sad.”

Rin jerked, startled. His eyes flicked around the cold stone walls. And sure enough–the faint glowing veins in the rock, which had been blinking in messy little patterns before, were now pulsing in a slow, steady rhythm. It didn’t feel threatening.

It felt like… a pat on the shoulder? Comforting. Sympathetic.

That weirdness only made Rin more confused. He burrowed deeper into the blanket until only his bright blue eyes were visible, peeking at Kaiser with pure suspicion.

“None of your business…” – he said, voice muffled in fabric. A pause. Then, as if he needed to clarify, he added more quietly – “…and it’s not this castle’s business either.”

Kaiser stared at the human brat in front of him, rolled his eyes, and finally–like a man giving up on peace–muttered:

“Fine. You tell me what your problem is, I solve it. Fair?”

“You?” Rin lifted his head out of the blanket and stared at him like a frog being offered algebra.

Whether it was the blatant doubt in Rin’s tone, or the sheer I do not believe you expression on his face that hit the fragile pride nerve of an ancient creature, Kaiser instantly switched into I am divine, bow accordingly mode. He sat up straighter, squared his shoulders, lifted his chin at a smug angle. Even the snakes on his head rose in unison like backup singers.

“What?” – His voice turned theatrical, self-satisfied, – “Human–clearly you still don’t understand. Before you sits Michael Kaiser, the keeper of this castle’s arcane secrets, of the entire forest, and of this whole domain. There is nothing–do you hear me, nothing–beyond my reach. Are you questioning my authority, you fool who doesn’t know the height of the sky or the depth of the earth?”

“You can’t petrify me. You can’t even teleport me outside.” – Rin pointed out flatly

Kaiser bristled instantly, snarling:
“I told you it’s because you’re my ‘bonded soul’! Damn it–wanna fight?!”

Rin shrugged and put on a come at me then face. Kaiser’s mouth twitched. He forced himself to cling to the last distorted thread of sanity he had left, inhaled, then exhaled.

“Alright. Talk.”

Rin hesitated. Truthfully, he was a mess inside–there were too many things he wanted to do right now, and he also didn’t understand why this guy was being oddly helpful. Is he plotting something? Kaiser watched the way Rin’s expression openly wrestled with itself, and suddenly–maybe because of that bizarre soul link, or maybe because Rin was simply an open book–he caught the thought perfectly.

A displeased little growl slipped out of him.

“There’s a fee.”

“Deal.” – Rin agreed instantly. There. Give it a price tag. That was safer. At least then he didn’t have to wonder what kind of evil scheme it was.

“Only once.” –Kaiser added, his face twitching–  “Think carefully. I’m not always this easygoing.”

“Should I thank you?” – Rin glared, challenging.

“If you’re a polite human.”

"Too bad for you, I'm fucking not."

Kaiser suppressed the urge to roll this brat up in the blanket and toss him into the fireplace. If it weren't for the soul bond sharing a portion of their emotions, he'd truly just want to get into bed, pull up the covers, and sleep without wasting a second on this troublesome human.

But instead, he sat there, watching Rin slowly sit up. Rin crossed his arms, frowned, his eyes darting back and forth as if running a national-level strategic simulation. Kaiser–in an effort of patience bordering on the divine–spent a good few minutes just observing the endlessly dancing expressions on his face.

Scowl.
Frown.
Head tilt.
Glance.
Frown again.
Sigh.
Scowl some more.

Kaiser propped his chin on his hand, watching the scene and genuinely wondering: Is this kid thinking of a way to save the world? Or planning human genocide?

Both seemed equally plausible.

.

.

After several minutes of internal struggle, Rin finally lifted his head, eyes shining brightly, and declared with conviction:

“I want to write a letter!”

A strange silence fell.

Kaiser blinked. Then replied very calmly:
“You’re joking.”

Rin immediately frowned, asking suspiciously:
“Care to share the reasoning that led you to that conclusion?”

“You just looked like you were contemplating something as lofty as battling the gods, and now you’re telling me you want to turn me–a divine entity–into a, uh, what? A damned mailman? You’re better off joking.”

Rin looked at him like he was an idiot:
“My condolences.”

The corner of Kaiser’s mouth twitched. Seriously, today my facial muscles are really working overtime. His mind was torn between kicking this little brat straight out of his domain and turning him into a decorative lamp. In the end, he could only resign himself and let out a sigh:

“Go on.”

Rin, completely unaware–or perhaps just indifferent–to Kaiser’s immense concession, said pensively:

“I haven’t been home for almost a day now. Pretty sure Nii-chan and the others, are panicking by now. If anyone saw me loitering by the Smue River, they probably know I got lost in this damn forest.”

“You have an older brother? Pretty sure the temperament is just as terrible, both bastards. And?” – Kaiser tried to appear uninterested in this human’s social life, but still perked up his ears.

“Nii-chan is indeed a bastard, but if you dare call my brother a bastard one more time, I swear to god I’ll stuff a pillow over your face while you sleep. And I’m certain he’s about to grab a torch and come looking for me in the forest, so I want to write a letter to tell him I’m safe and to tell him not to come into the forest.”

“That’s all?” – Kaiser tilted his head, not quite understanding the situation before him. A kid nearly twenty years old needs to report being out overnight to his family? Kaiser gave Rin another once-over from head to toe, frowning and muttering, “You don’t really strike me as the obedient type?”

“I swear to God, Michael,” – Rin snarled –  “I will personally shred your mouth.”

Kaiser froze.

The entire room seemed to crystallize for a second. Even the snakes stopped nosing around. Slowly, Kaiser raised an eyebrow. His blue eyes widened a fraction, and he stared at Rin like Rin had just introduced him to a brand-new species.

“…What did you just call me?”

Rin blinked, annoyed:
“What? You said you’re Michael Kaiser, didn’t you? Did I get it wrong? Or is your name ‘Blond Asshole’ or ‘Bastard’?”

“Not exactly,” – Kaiser chuckled, his soul practically humming with the novelty of it – “Didn’t think you’d ever, uh… use my name.”

“You psychotic bastard.” – Rin said disdainfully–is this guy insane? – “I’m not the rude type who calls people by their first name upon first meeting, got it?”

The corner of Kaiser’s lips quirked up. He fully understood that Rin had mistaken his given name for his surname, but he wasn’t about to complain. This was a situation worth further study; only a fool would point it out. So, in an uncharacteristically good mood, he nodded, agreeing to Rin’s request:

“Alright, here you go!” – Paper and a pen appeared on the table, making Rin’s eyes go wide. Kaiser enjoyed that reaction and continued – “Write.”

Rin stared at the blank sheet of paper before him as if gazing into an abyss. He picked up the pen, twirling it a few times for momentum, and began thinking of what to write, pretending not to notice Kaiser pulling his chair closer or the snakes on his head leaning in near his ear. Unable to hold back, Rin finally looked up and asked:

“What can I write?”

Kaiser understood what he meant, but merely shrugged: “Depends.”

Rin looked back down, frowning intensely. Saying he was trapped with the terrifying creature of legend sounded utterly insane and dangerous–especially dangerous if Sae found out. Rin could imagine the horror; Nii-chan would charge in recklessly. Besides, this bastard–Rin glanced at Kaiser from the corner of his eye–had initially tried to turn him to stone here. It was only by luck (or perhaps sheer misfortune) that he was this ‘soulmate’ thing and was still alive. Sae and the others… might not be so lucky. He raised an eyebrow:

“Hey, is it possible you have more than one ‘soulmate’?”

Kaiser looked at him with an indescribable expression:
“Can I interpret this as an invitation to cheat?”

Okay, that’s not good. Sae might get petrified by this lunatic. Rin took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and began to write.

‘Nii-chan, I’m okay…’

“Seriously?”

“Problem?”

“You write as if I’m holding your hand to write. The handwriting… tsk tsk… maybe while I’m figuring out how to undo the seal, you should practice your penmanship.”

“My brother can read it.”

“I’m starting to feel some respect for that guy.”

“Fuck off.”

Rin sighed, ruffling his hair. He adjusted the opening and added a few more words.

The problem?
Kaiser is a psycho who likes to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.

“Fewer ellipses. You put ‘…’ after every three words; it looks like you’re on death’s door.”
“This sentence is too short.”
“This sentence is too long.”
“You missed a punctuation mark.”
“Your handwriting is atrocious–”

Snap.

Rin set the pen down and turned to look at Kaiser with a ‘I’ll deal with you when I have time’ glare, his voice tight:

“Michael.”

“Rin?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Ohhh, that’s adorable~”

Rin’s mouth twitched. He decided the only winning move was to ignore this man entirely. He bent over the page and kept writing–and after a messy war of crossing out, rewriting, and ink-smudged frustration, the letter was finally finished:

Nii-chan, I'm okay... First of all, this is the price you pay for kicking me out of the house to get frisky with that blond cockroach. I'll settle the score with you two after I get back. I'm not dead. My legs aren't broken. No need to bring torches, axes, or your murderous face into the forest. Ha, don't ask how I know. I even know that every morning you wake up, it's because that stupid blond cockroach kisses your left cheek!! God, I hate you two so damn much.

To sum it up, I'm fine, really fine. You, mom and dad, Shidou, Nagi, and Reo, don't worry. It's just that I can't come back for a little while right now, and no, I'm not running off with anyone. Shidou, stop spouting nonsense. I'm just... stuck a bit, and not worrying about daily survival... even though the food here is absolutely disgusting. Tell mom and Shidou I'm thankful for their normal food.

Maybe I'll be back soon, or maybe not that soon. Sounds like bullshit, I know. But don't you dare charge in. This isn't a normal forest. There are things here that all of us combined aren't qualified to mess with.

Nii-chan, I've never asked anything of you before–the cakes and books don't count. Listen, I'm demanding everyone not come in. I swear to god, I swear, whoever steps in will have me be the first to chop their legs off. Not joking.

So:

1. DO NOT enter the forest.
2. Tell Shidou DO NOT cry.
3. Tell Reo and Nagi DO NOT do something stupid like coming to find me.
4. JUST WAIT. I WILL COME BACK TO YOU ALL, I PROMISE.

Stay strong. Don't do anything stupid.

• Rin

P/S: If possible, can you ask Shidou or Reo to find me a 2x2 super thick, super warm down comforter? I have a feeling I might have trouble sleeping without it later.

Rin blew on the page to dry the ink, feeling like he’d just finished a battle. The sealed letter looked like it had been written by three different people in three different moods. He glanced at Kaiser–the man was silent, his gaze strangely fixed on the chaotic lines of text. Perhaps even a semi-mythical, long-lived being had never seen a letter that was simultaneously threatening, whining, demanding… and also placing an order for a comforter.

“Don’t.”

“I haven’t said anything?” – Kaiser raised an eyebrow.

“I read it in your body language.”

Kaiser opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, unable to resist:
“How about I give you the comforter as a gift?”

“I told you to shut up, damn it.”

Finally, with an expression as if performing a secret ritual, Rin bent down and solemnly scribbled a tiny, crooked owl in the corner of the letter. Before the non-stop mouth opposite him could open to ask any stupid questions, he resignedly explained:

“An identification mark. When we were kids, every time I left a note, Shidou would forge my handwriting to write things like ‘I ran away from home with a cat’ or ‘I’ve enlisted with the owl faction.’ After that, I started adding a little something in the corner. Because Shidou… draws like shit. He can’t fake this.”

Kaiser was silent for a moment, his gaze shifting between the lopsided owl drawing and Rin’s scrunched-up face. Then he slowly uttered, his tone full of contemplation:

“Should I be impressed that your household boasts two masters of horrifying calligraphic art… or should I compliment you for being cute with this childish anti-counterfeiting trick?”

“You should go to hell.”

.

.

Rin shook the letter a little, then calmly handed it to Kaiser, asking suspiciously:

"So how are you planning to send this to my brother?"

Kaiser rested his chin on his hand:
"At first, I planned to just cast a spell on it directly. But judging by the contents of the letter, perhaps that's not advisable, hmm?"

"Of course not. I don't want anyone risking coming in here," Rin shrugged, quickly wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. Seriously, I might really have trouble sleeping if Shidou can't find one.

"Alright, then let's go with the most primitive method."

He raised his hand, his long, slender fingers giving a gentle flick in the air, as if plucking an invisible string. A soft, smooth vibration spread from his fingertips–not light, but something like a whisper, a gentle call that passed through the thick glass, through the heavy rain falling outside, and headed straight into the dark Zonara forest.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath. Rin watched intently.

Then, from within the dense forest rain, a large black shadow glided out. It soared over the tree-tops struggling in the wind, heading straight for the tall glass window of the castle–which had just cracked open a sliver, as if prepared in advance. As the shadow neared the window, the firelight in the room finally began to sketch its form.

A massive owl.

Its brown-gold feathers were soaked with rain, shimmering as if dusted with gold powder in the firelight. Gray streaks marked its wings and chest like mysterious ribbons. Its wings spread wide, fanning out for a moment to slow its descent, then folded neatly as it landed perfectly, soundlessly, on Kaiser's outstretched arm with absolute grace. Raindrops dripped from its feathers onto the stone floor–tap… tap… in the silence.

The owl stood firm, gave its feathers a slight shake, then turned its head almost 180 degrees in that bizarre way. Its large golden eyes, like two crescent moons submerged in darkness, stared directly at Rin. In those eyes, there was no fear or aggression, only a deep, wise curiosity, as if it were assessing, reading something of the soul of the stranger before it.

Rin’s eyes went wide, completely mesmerized. All thoughts of the blanket, of Sae, of Kaiser’s annoyance vanished. He was hypnotized by the wild, majestic, and utterly magical beauty of this creature.

Kaiser observed Rin’s reaction from the corner of his eye. A sense of satisfaction at having chosen the right "method" spread through him. He smiled faintly, a small, smug smile.

"Meet Iris." – he said, his voice warm and low – "The night messenger of this forest. And… of the castle, when needed."

The owl–Iris–seemed to understand its master. It gave a very slight nod, a courteous greeting directed at Rin, its head tilted at that peculiar, captivating angle.

Rin held back… and held back. Finally, a sigh full of awe and delight still escaped through his teeth:

"Wa…" – The sound was small, almost a whisper. His eyes were glued to Iris, not leaving it for a blink, as if the entire world around him had faded, leaving only this breathtakingly beautiful, magical creature. He was practically entranced.

Kaiser, who had just smiled with satisfaction at Rin's captivated reaction, suddenly felt a strange, sour prickling sensation run down his spine. Huh? He frowned momentarily, his smug expression cracking slightly. This… wasn’t part of the plan.

But that was nothing compared to the seismic event forming right on top of his head.

The snakes–who had been dozing peacefully or coiling lazily in his blond hair–all jolted awake as if electrocuted. Their small heads lifted in unison, their slit-like eyes widening into perfect circles. All their gazes converged on Iris with undisguised hostility. One let out a warning hiss–"Sss…"–another coiled its body into a threatening S-shape, and the largest one glared at the owl, then turned to look at Rin (whose face was utterly enchanted), then back at the owl, its eyes seemingly accusing: "IT? SERIOUSLY? A FLYING FEATHERBALL OVER US?!"

The owl, completely ignoring the "outraged" snakes, simply dipped its beak to preen the feathers on its chest. That gesture only made Rin more mesmerized. He even raised a hand slightly, as if wanting to touch it.

THWAP! A small snake instantly launched itself from Kaiser’s head. It wasn’t aiming for the owl, but… it wrapped tightly around Rin’s raised finger, blocking his path. It lifted its tiny head to look at Rin, its pitch-black eyes sparkling (pretentiously) and even nuzzled its head against his skin in an overly affectionate manner.

Rin was startled, then quickly realized his indiscretion. He looked down at the snake, fairly certain they were warning him not to touch their teammate without permission. He could only resignedly lower his hand and continue looking at Iris.

Kaiser was trying to maintain a calm face, but a vein in his neck twitched slightly. He gave his arm a gentle shake, signaling the owl. The intelligent Iris understood, gently picking up the letter neatly rolled with a ribbon (who knew when that appeared?) with its talons. With a few soft wingbeats, it soared into the darkness of the already open window, disappearing into the rainy night. Kaiser grumbled an addendum:

"Iris will track your bloodline to find the right person, so it won't make a mistake."

Rin silently watched it vanish into the night, then frowned and turned back to Kaiser, making the man look even more bewildered.

"Hey, I just helped you, you little brat. What’s with that face?"

"You…" – Rin asked slowly, his tone full of accusation, "...you actually sent a cute owl like Iris out to work in that torrential downpour?"

Kaiser was taken aback. Cute?

"First," –  he counted on his finger, his voice full of annoyance, "Iris is working for you. Second, Iris has been enchanted against colds since its ancestor's time. And third," – he emphasized, "Iris is a full 50 cm tall with a wingspan over 2 meters. It can take down a hare with one strike. There is nothing 'cute' about it."

Rin clicked his tongue, his eyes full of regret and… light disdain.

"Tsk… creatures with no taste."

The corner of Kaiser’s mouth twitched. That sour feeling from earlier came back twice as strong. This insolent little brat… Maybe I should just let his precious Nii-chan freeze to death in the forest.

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.

.

.

After the letter had been sent and the atmosphere had temporarily settled, Rin took a deep breath, sat back down on the couch, and looked directly at Kaiser with the expression of a merchant about to negotiate.

"Alright," he said, his tone pragmatic. "That's done. Now for your 'fee'. How much?"

Kaiser, who was taking a sip of tea (a new cup, still warm for some reason), raised an eyebrow slightly.

"How much… for what?"

"Money, what else?" – Rin glared, as if the question was utterly foolish.
“I didn’t bring much, but my family has it. Nii-chan’s loaded. Reo’s loaded too. Name a number. I’ll get it to you when I’m back.”

A pause.

Then Kaiser laughed. Not his usual dry, mocking laugh–this was short, genuine, and so surprised it was almost inappropriate. It rang out in the quiet room, enough to make even the snakes on his head freeze like, Wait, are we allowed to laugh?

“Money…?” – he repeated, still half-laughing, like he’d just heard the best joke of the century.

“Rin, Rin, Rin… my precious little idiot.” – He set the teacup down with a light clink.
“Do you honestly think I need your scraps of paper or shiny bits of metal–things humans decided to worship with value?”

Rin frowned, feeling like he was being led around by the nose:
“Then what do you want? Gold? Jewels? I’m serious. I’m not joking.”

“I’m serious too.” – Kaiser said, and his voice dropped. Every trace of playfulness vanished. His blue eyes hit Rin like two pieces of ice.

“Those things are no different to me than river pebbles. Pretty. Useless. They can’t buy time, they can’t trade for knowledge, and they certainly can’t repay… the debt of a soul.”

“Debt…” – Rin muttered, unease rising in his gut.

“Exactly.” – Kaiser nodded–his face relaxed, which somehow made him more dangerous:
“You agreed to pay a fee. But the form of payment… is mine to decide. And right now, I don’t need anything specific from you.”

“What do you mean?” – Rin bristled instantly.

“I mean…” – Kaiser explained slowly, like he was talking to a child– “you owe me one request. One favor. It doesn’t have a shape yet. It doesn’t have content. It’s just… an empty promise, waiting to be filled by whatever I want in the future.”

Cold slid down Rin’s spine. This sounded worse than any clear price tag.

“Are you insane? I can’t agree to something that vague. You could make me do anything!”

“Precisely.” – Kaiser smiled faintly–the smile of someone holding the leash. “But you already agreed. ‘There’s a fee,’ I said. ‘Deal,’ you said. The bargain’s made. Now all that’s left is to wait… for the due date.”

He saw the resistance and anxiety in Rin’s eyes and seemed to enjoy it.

“Don’t look so gloomy. Maybe I’ll never collect. Maybe my request will be… you telling me a childhood story. Or tasting a dessert I made (terribly). Or…” – He paused, voice light, and then dropped the last line like a feather that still somehow hit like a stone. “…simply staying here for one more afternoon.”

That final sentence was gentle.
And yet it carried a strange, heavy weight.

"That's a gamble." –  Rin said, his voice hoarse.

"Life is one big gamble, little Rin." – Kaiser replied. "And right now, you've placed your bet. Let's hope… I'm a generous player."

He fell silent, understanding he was cornered. Refusing now would be pointless, even dangerous. He had handed him an open-ended debt, a perfect excuse to intervene in his life whenever he wished.

"I hate you, Shitty Michael." – Rin finally muttered, slumping back into the couch.

Kaiser laughed, a genuinely radiant smile this time:
"I know. And the debt… remains." –  He stood up, stretching. "Now then, off to bed, little debtor, Rin. Let your creditor… ponder how to collect the interest."

He walked away, leaving Rin sitting there with the feeling he'd just signed a contract with the devil, the only clear clause being: 'Anything is possible.'

And somewhere in the shadows, the snakes also let out a small, satisfied hiss, as if they had just witnessed their master acquire an asset far more precious than gold: a promise.

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Zonara Forest Edge
At the First Light of Dawn

The eastern sky had only just begun to blush, but the air at the edge of Zonara Forest was already taut as a drawn bowstring. The night fog hadn’t fully lifted; it tangled with the heavy breaths of the people facing that wall of black trees–an indistinct boundary between the familiar world and a land stitched together from ugly rumors.

Sae Itoshi stood rigid at the front, a light toolkit slung over one shoulder–light in weight, not in intent–packed with sharp things and things that could burn. His gaze was two cold blades, sweeping every seam of leaves, every dark notch of the narrow entrance, as if he meant to carve the mist apart and force a clue to appear. On that impassive face, the only sign of strain was a small vein pulsing at his neck–tension pressed down and held, held, held.

Shidou stood close beside him, gripping an unlit torch so hard his knuckles had gone white. His jaw was clenched; his eyes, rimmed red from sleeplessness and worry, kept cutting into the gray haze like he was ready to punch apart anything foolish enough to block their path. Shidou’s silence right now was more unsettling than his usual barrage of profanity.

Behind them, Reo and Nagi stood shoulder to shoulder. Both were pale under the dim wash of dawn. Reo kept turning the ring on his finger–an old habit when stress had nowhere else to go. Nagi, almost without realizing it, had a fistful of Reo’s sleeve, his normally lazy eyes fixed on Sae’s back with an unblinking focus that didn’t suit him at all. Neither said a word, but their posture made one thing painfully clear: they were ready to follow Sae into the place every folktale insisted you don’t come back from.

Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi stood at the very rear, worry carved deep into their faces. The moment they started to step forward, Sae turned halfway and raised an arm–decisive, almost harsh in its finality.

“Mom. Dad. You don’t need to go anywhere,” he said, voice even, leaving no room for bargaining. “Stay here. I’ll bring Rin back.”

Mr. Itoshi’s frown deepened.

“Sae, what are you saying? We will bring Rin back.”

Sae shook his head, eyes never leaving the forest. The rationality in his tone sharpened into something like a wall. “Dad can’t manage a long trek. Mom catches cold easily in wet woods like this. We can’t risk putting more people in danger. This isn’t a discussion.” He paused, lowering his voice–softer, but no less heavy. “Trust me. I’ll bring Rin back.”

Shidou–maybe sensing the pressure in the air–forced his fear down and spoke up in support, making his voice sound casual on purpose:

“Yeah, Mom, Dad. We’ve got this. That kid’s stubborn as hell–he probably just got a little lost. We’ll do a quick sweep and drag him home.”

Mrs. Itoshi pressed her lips together, eyes reddened as she stared into the dark treeline where her younger son had disappeared. She wanted to say something–an instruction, a prayer, anything–but when Sae’s gaze flicked back, resolute and weighted with responsibility, she knew she couldn’t stop him. She only turned away quickly, wiping a hot tear from her cheek with her sleeve, silently begging every god she’d ever heard of to watch over her children.

The fog churned between them and the forest like a line drawn in smoke.

A long silence.

“Ready?” – Sae asked, his voice rough as sandpaper. No one answered–because the answer was already there. He gave a single nod, faced the trees again. “Then–”

Sae drew in a deep breath, and his first step toward the forest landed like a piece set on the board–one you couldn’t take back.

And right then–

Fff… fff…

A wingbeat–so light it was almost imaginary–suddenly ripped through the heavy quiet with a jarring sharpness.

From within the forest’s thick fog–still as death–something large slid into view. It made no noise, no threatening sound at all; it was simply a low, straight, flawlessly controlled line of flight, cutting through the mist like a fine shuttle threading silk. The weak slant of dawn caught it at an angle, laying a faint halo along its outline–and they saw it clearly: a massive owl, its wingspan wider than a grown man’s reach.

Iris landed on a rotting log directly in front of Sae, only a few steps away, as gently as a falling leaf. Its tawny-brown feathers, streaked with those strange gray markings, still held beads of fog that glimmered in the pale morning light. It didn’t tremble. It didn’t startle. Its large golden eyes–round as two small crescent moons–stayed wide and fixed on Sae with an unnerving, deep intelligence… and a particular attention, as if it were scanning and recognizing every line of his face.

The others jolted, all taking half a step back on instinct. Shidou raised his unlit torch like a crude weapon, eyes hard and wide. Nagi let out a small, stunned “Huh?”

But Sae didn’t move. He stood like carved stone in the fog, only his sharp gaze narrowing into two thin slits as it swept from the owl’s hooked, razor beak, to its powerful wings, to the solid talons gripping the wood. He didn’t see aggression. He didn’t see an attack coming.

He saw… purpose. A mission.

Then Iris lowered its large head slowly. With a neat, careful motion, its beak released something–one tightly rolled sheet of paper, bound with an oddly shimmering silk ribbon in a color that didn’t quite belong to the morning. It dropped at Sae’s feet with a soft thump onto the damp grass. Task complete, Iris lifted its head and let out a long, resonant call–

“Hoo… oo… oo…”

The sound was low and musical, echoing through the early fog. Not a warning. More like a formal greeting–or confirmation that the job had been done. And without hesitation, the owl beat its enormous wings once, turned, and plunged back into the dense veil of mist, vanishing in a blink like a ghost that had never been there at all.

The group remained rooted, stunned, drowning in questions.

“The… hell is that?” Shidou was the first to speak, voice sharp with suspicion, torch still held high. “An owl… delivering mail? In Zonara Forest?”

It took Reo a moment to come back to himself. He hurried forward and carefully picked up the roll from near Sae’s boots. “Hey… it left this. It left this here.” His voice shook faintly.

Sae snatched the paper from Reo’s hands with rare haste. His fingers brushed the ribbon–strangely cool, unnaturally smooth, nothing like ordinary cloth, and–if he’d had the patience to notice–almost as if a faint pulse ran through it. But Sae didn’t care about that now. He tore the ribbon free and unfolded the page with an impatience that didn’t belong to him.

Messy, hurried lines of handwriting–familiar enough to hurt–jumped up at him.

Rin’s. He knew it from the very first stroke.

And more than that: in the corner of the page, a tiny owl had been drawn–clumsy, but unmistakably specific. A mark only Rin and Sae understood. A childhood code, meant to foil Shidou’s annoying habit of forging Rin’s notes for jokes.

Sae’s heart drew tight.

Silence fell again–different this time. Heavy with shock, with relief, and with questions piling on top of each other. All that remained was the wind sliding through the leaves like the forest’s own breath… and the clipped, held breathing of the others as they stared at the paper in Sae’s hands, waiting for him to speak.

Sae read.

Line by line, word by word, they slid slowly across his vision–yet each one landed like a stone thrown into the still water inside his chest. The insults about a “blond cockroach,” the threat to “settle accounts,” the blunt, rough-edged assurances of safety, the warning about the forest… and, unbelievably, the request for a thick quilt. Every sentence carried Rin’s voice, vivid enough to hurt.

But Sae wasn’t only reading the ink.

He read the gaps between lines–the things Rin had deliberately left unwritten, yet revealed anyway through pauses, through the careful phrasing that was too careful to be casual.

His face stayed motionless, stone-set beneath the rising dawn. Only his eyes–those cold, gemlike eyes–were alive. They flicked, stopped, flicked again. The light in them shifted from one heartbeat to the next: a brief flare of relief when he confirmed his brother was alive, instantly smothered by the sharp, clean edge of extreme vigilance. His jaw tightened, but not a sound escaped him.

Shidou, Reo, and Nagi stood frozen, barely breathing, watching for the smallest change in Sae’s expression. Waiting for an explanation. A decision.

Sae said nothing.

He folded the paper–slowly, precisely, as if accuracy itself were a form of control. Then, instead of handing it over, he slipped it into the inside pocket of his coat, closest to his heart. His gaze left the letter and returned to the forest–not the look of someone about to charge in, but the look of a hunter measuring prey that was too big, too dangerous.

In Sae’s right palm–where no one could see–the strange ribbon he’d stripped from the message lay coiled. It was no longer cold. It was warming, inexplicably, then beginning to blur at the edges, dissolving into tiny grains of light that vanished soundlessly between his fingers. Only Sae felt it happen–like sand slipping through a hand, except it carried a crisp, unmistakable message: This is not of your world.

Sae closed his fist. Every trace of magic was gone. He turned his back to the forest.

“Back.” – he said. One word–heavy, final, allowing no questions and no arguments.

The group stared, stunned. Shidou opened his mouth to protest, but when he met Sae’s eyes–eyes that had wholly changed, no longer the chaotic worry from moments ago, but the deep, dangerous stillness of ice–he swallowed the words instead.

No one asked again.

They followed Sae away from the forest’s edge in silence. The sun had climbed higher now, lighting their backs and stretching their solitary shadows long across the ground. Sae walked in front, steps steady but weighted. Inside him, Rin’s letter burned like a live coal–warm, and searing all at once. And the memory of that ribbon dissolving in his hand remained: a mute warning not from Rin, but from something–someone–holding his brother in place.

Sae’s eyes stayed forward, but his focus seemed to pierce past the village, past everything familiar, toward a new target–darker, far more complicated.

This was no longer a search for a boy lost in the woods.

Something had changed.
And Sae, in the silence, had been the first to understand it.