Chapter Text
Ralsei walks around the town, with light feet and a small smile on his face. There's no new adventure until tomorrow, which means the dangers that await them won't bother them for twenty four more hours or so, so Ralsei, inspired by Susie's moving ideology that explains that being lazy is the teenager’s true nature, decided to finally push his anxieties aside, relax and allow himself to bathe in Castle Town’s lively atmosphere.
There’s jazzy music that fills every corner with funky rhythms and sweet instruments that invite people to start dancing. Rich trumpets and colourful saxophones, accompanied by playful beats, work together to make beautiful tunes. Ralsei wonders if his subjects are already getting tired of it, but no one has asked him yet to turn the music off so he figures that it can keep playing for a little while.
An almost disgustingly, sugary smell of caramel and butterscotch emanating from the Cafè makes him realize that he is pretty hungry. Perhaps he could stop by later and order something to go, a small treat for not having any major break downs this time. It would be nice to stop by and chat a bit with Swatch who always welcomes him to the establishment with open arms and a very professional yet caring smile.
Ahead of him, leading the way and guiding him to pretty much nowhere, is Kris. Their sabatones confidently hit the ground with a distinctive click-clack as they mindlessly explore their surroundings. As per usual, they haven’t said much since they got here, just that Susie would not be joining them this time. When Ralsei asked them why, though, they didn’t give him a concrete answer.
He wondered if it had to do with the festival.
Ralsei doesn’t really know the exact details, but something had happened when the oh so anticipated day finally came. Something bad. And he's not talking about the new Dark World that had been opened by Kris's dad — no, it had been something else.
He remembers with clarity Susie’s beaming smile and contagious excitement when she had talked about the upcoming event as soon as they entered the TV World, and yet, in their last adventure things had gotten pretty tense between her and Kris.
The pair of friends had gotten along pretty well ever since they set foot in the Cyber World — they were incredibly synced up and understood each other like no one else (and yes, Ralsei was just a tad jealous of their bond and how much time they got to spend together in the Light World). They’d joke around, they’d try to find any excuse to initiate physical contact (excluding hugs thanks to Susie's aversion to those) and they’d protect the other at all cost. But now? Now they had to be pressured into having forced interactions with each other. A thick cloud of tension floated around them when Ralsei wasn’t trying to fill in the awkward silence with pointless dialogue. The contrast was worrying, to say the least.
Ralsei’s train of thought is abruptly interrupted by Kris softly humming along to the music. They seem to be enjoying themself in this atmosphere.
He has gotten pretty good at picking up and understanding Kris’, the real Kris’, microexpressions. It's small gestures like this one that indicate that they are in a good mood, which means that Ralsei must be doing something right.
He wonders if they'd be fine with him asking them for a dance. It's not like he's too much of a dancer himself, and let's be real, he'd probably make a fool of himself — dancing alone is one thing, but dancing with another person… That is unknown territory for him.
Despite this, the thought of being so close to Kris makes his cheeks burn a little. He probably shouldn't be thinking about them like that, since they are strictly friends, and yet, he can't help but entertain the idea, even if it’s a silly thing to do.
He's very glad that they can't see his flushed face right now.
Before he can say anything, though, Kris is already leading him across the Castle's hall, and into his room.
He has to say, his friends have done a pretty good job with his room. Almost too good.
There are so many random objects lying around, but Ralsei appreciated each of them. The very first time Susie had completely emptied her inventory, making Ralsei's pitch black room turn into a cluttered mess, he hadn't been able to restrain himself from thinking that he didn't deserve any of this. He had felt so small, almost as if the room was going to swallow him whole. There was just so much stuff around that it felt suffocating. He didn’t deserve this. He didn't deserve any of the objects Susie had meticulously selected for him, no matter how silly they appeared to be. He didn't deserve Susie and her beautiful kindness.
But after some thinking and pondering, and after a lot of reassurance and insistence from Susie, he had started to get used to… having things. Having a room. After all, Ralsei was starting to believe that perhaps he could allow himself to want.
Half a dozen rows of fairy lights adorned the ceiling like a spider web of little stars, giving the room a soft pink glow that contrasted with the vibrant green of the door and window. And next to the window, a small mint-colored closet had been cautiously placed, its left wooden door hanging slightly open. Inside of it, pieces of Ralsei's past outfits were neatly organized by colour, and a bit of blue, sparkly fabric peeked out from it, from his most recent one. He had to admit it was pretty nice to have a way to safely store his clothes.
Then, of course, there were the more… decorative objects. A ladder that led to nowhere, a cracked lava lamp that changed colours and sparkled in an almost hypnotizing way, a pot with blue carnations that he had promised Kris’ dad he would very carefully take care of, a fuzzy cube with an unsettling face whose eyes seemed to follow Ralsei everywhere (he had flipped it so that it would stare at the wall instead of at him)… Susie and Kris had even managed to get him a full-body mirror! Now, Ralsei wasn't vain at all! Yes, he liked looking cute and pretty but he did it just because it felt right rather than because he wanted to, say, impress his friends. Most of the time he wouldn’t look at himself in it anyways.
Either way, Ralsei’s favourite new room feature was his ‘sleeping place’.
See, as a Darkner, Ralsei didn't feel the need to sleep, and yet Susie, Kris and Lancer had reunited all the pillows and spare blankets they could find to create what they told him was a ‘pillow fort’. It was about two meters tall, and it was surprisingly bigger on the inside. Sitting on top of a cushion, a smaller, more cuddly version of Susie, stood in all her pink glory. Even when Kris had gifted the plush to her in the Cyber’s World, Susie had chosen to put her mini copy in his room to keep him company, which he greately appreciated.
He had tried sleeping in the pillow fort the night prior, and despite the alien sensations he guessed it wasn't that bad. In fact, it was pretty cozy. Plus, that had been the place where Susie and him had had that rather… deep conversation. Ralsei had been able to open up about some personal thoughts he had desperately tried keeping to himself, and Susie had been nothing but patient and understanding with him. She had even encouraged him to talk to Kris about it.
Maybe he could try bringing that up now that they were alone...
Kris had moved towards the closet. Kneeling down, they seem to be looking for something underneath it. They knit their brows as their hand feels around the small space between the floor and the bottom of the piece of furniture.
“Huh? Are you looking for something, Kris?”
It's a rather redundant question, maybe that's why they don't say anything back.
After a few seconds where Ralsei can only stare at them in confusion, they pull something from under the closet.
It's a pointy, forest green hat, with a wide brim to shield the eyes of the person wearing it from the sun. It had been clearly designed with horns in mind, as two smaller points added some extra room for a pair of small horns.
It's his hat.
“Oh! You found my hat!” he chirps as Kris returns to him with it.
Wow, that takes him back. It had been a while since he had seen that old thing. It sort of makes him feel… the word is not nostalgic, but something like that. It reminds him of the first time he met Kris and Susie. It had not gone… according to plan, to say the least. Their first interaction had been less than ideal, especially since Kris had a perpetual ‘I don't want to be here, I would rather be doing anything else’ face and Susie wouldn’t stop saying things like ‘I don't want to be here, I would rather be doing anything else’.
Nevertheless their friendship has evolved ever since that first encounter! And Ralsei has grown incredibly fond of the two of them ever since.
Who would've thought that he would end up loving these two so much?
And who would've thought they would love him just as much?
Now that he’s looking at the hat… there's a sort of warm feeling spreading in his chest — staring at it, he feels… a sense of pride? Like he doesn't need to wear it anymore. Like it's just a meaningless piece of fabric. Nothing more than a cheap disguise. Any attachment he could’ve once felt for it had completely vanished.
“I wonder how that got here! I really thought some Darkner had taken it” he chuckles.
But he’s met with silence once again. If Kris heard him, they didn't show it.
Something feels off.
Kris holds the green hat with one hand. Their fingertips hover over the fabric with delicacy, as if they were carefully examining a dangerous ancient artifact.
Behind their bangs, their ruby irises stare at it with an intensity he had never seen before. If they keep looking at it like that they might as well burn two holes in it.
Their back is completely straight, their eyes half lidded, their mouth tense, forming a thin line.
Ralsei notices how they seem to be holding their breath.
He notices how he's been holding his as well.
Worrying that, somehow, he's the one making things uncomfortable, he goes up to where Kris is still kneeling down. He keeps his distance, though, as he speaks again. “It's silly to think that there was a time where I was so scared of making a good first impression that I felt like I needed to wear this! That seems so long ago, doesn't it, Kris?”
Again. No response.
He replays in his mind the conversation he had with Susie last night. Maybe Ralsei could… open up to them. Kris would be perfectly understanding, right? After all, they had stated that it was okay not to smile, that Ralsei could be themself and that their feelings mattered. Ralsei was sure they could relate to having troubles with their identity. And, of course, Susie couldn't possibly be wrong about Kris.
With a deep breath, Ralsei sits down to be at eye level with Kris.
“Hey, Kris, could I talk to you about some—”
“You should put it back on,” they cut him.
The words slap him in the face, leaving him momentarily in shock.
“W-what?”
He must've misheard that. Kris knows what that'd mean… Kris wouldn't…
He tries steadying his breath.
“The hat,” they clarify, as if the reason Ralsei was so bewildered was because he didn't know what they were referring to. Their tone is as sharp and cold as the rose gold blade of their sword. Something about it doesn't sound right. It's like their voice is coming from everywhere all at once. As if it was trying to drown Ralsei.
In one swift motion, Kris gets up. “You should wear it again.” And it's less of a request and more of a demand.
Kris doesn't… They have never talked to him like that. Yes, their tone is usually monotone and most of the time barely a whisper, but they'd never made Ralsei feel compelled to do something. Even when fighting enemies — Kris’ voice was never this exigent.
But now they are looking down at him, shoulders completely relaxed, eyes narrowed, as if they are trying to see if he'll give in. As if they are challenging him to decline.
With a firm hand, they extend the object towards him. It hovers over his head for just a second before Ralsei jumps up and takes a step back almost reflexively.
He puts his hands up, as if he's trying to calm the human down, to make them know that they don't want to fight them, to create a barrier between them.
“Kris… Is this one of those pranks Susie told me about?” they ask with a nervous giggle, trying desperately to change the topic, but when Kris takes a step forward, he rapidly continues rambling, increasing his talking speed with every word “She t-told me how you would scare Noelle when you were kids—” another step back, two steps, three steps, “—but that you never meant to hurt her a-a-and that you prank the people you like!” Kris keeps moving forward as he desperately clings to the idea that he is just misunderstanding them. That he just doesn't get their humor. Maybe if he keeps talking to them like this, they might just start laughing at him, telling him that this was all their playful nature doing its thing. “So… so I guess that what I'm trying to say is t-that…” His back hits the wall with a thud. “I'm really happy you're playing a joke on me!”
Surely that must be it. There is no way they are asking him to wear the hat again, right? They know… They know how hard it had been for him to… change, to break free from his prewritten identity. They know what wearing the hat would mean. It has to be a joke. It has to be a joke.
As if the human was reading his mind, they say, “I'm not joking.”
Ralsei's heart drops.
For some reason, his mind resorts to the only thing that could ever make him act out of character: Susie.
Susie, who's not afraid to speak up. Susie, who would tell him that he's braver than that, and that he can't let people keep walking over him. If he doesn't want to do something, then he doesn't have to, for Heaven's sake! The mental image of her appears standing next to him, with her sparkling eyes and encouraging smirk, yelling at him to stop being a wimp, telling him that he's stronger than he thinks he is.
In a moment of panicked bravery, Ralsei does something that he never knew he was capable of: denying something to Kris.
“I don't want to wear it again!” he screams. Well, it's not an actual scream. It's not loud enough to be considered one, and his voice is so high pitched that it sounds a little pathetic.
Either way, his little tantrum seems to have startled Kris enough for them to hesitate. Their face is frozen in shock. Their mouth is extremely tense, but closed. Eyes a bit watery. And for one moment, Ralsei could swear (key word: could) that he saw them softly nod at him.
To be fair, Ralsei himself is, in all honesty, surprised as well. Maybe Susie is rubbing off on him. Well enough, this just gave him a sudden confidence boost.
He takes a deep breath.
“I thought you said you liked my face,” they say in a much more calmed, embarrassed tone. He tries not looking at it, but he can't help but be hyperaware of the green object in between him and Kris's chests. He closes his eyes, trying to muster all the courage he can again. This time he sounds more determined as he says, “I thought you wanted me to… To be more Ralsei-like! Don't you think that it wouldn't be appropriate for me to-”
“I liked you better with your hat on.”
And that is it for him.
The final strike. The last nail in the coffin. The sound of shattered glass.
He can't fight anymore, it isn't worth it.
His future has always been sealed.
He has been bad.
Bad to Kris. Bad to everyone.
Bad to the prophecy.
He had betrayed them. He had been too selfish, too egotistical, too greedy.
He should have never tried at all. To have hope was to deny the sanctity of his greater destiny.
He has never had a chance.
He is no good. Not anymore.
He had bitten off more than he could chew. He had given in to temptation. And now he was being, rightfully so, punished for it.
And he had disappointed one of the people whom he loved the most. How could he have been so selfish? He was nothing, so why had he felt entitled to such sinful desire?
With shaky hands, he takes the hat from Kris' strong grip, and places it on his head, almost robotically. Not a second passes before he can feel the magic taking effect on him.
He's covered again. Covered from horn to toe. And his fur is cold, and his scarf too hot. He covers his snout with it. A new layer of fabric magically manifests over his robe, hiding his arms under it. He straightens his back. Despite the hat doing its job and disguising him, he feels overexposed.
His cheeks are wet. How long has he been crying for? It really doesn't matter.
Heavens, he's such a mess.
He tries to find his voice so that he can beg for Kris' pardon. He should have never acted like this. He was too selfish, too prideful. He had hurt them too much. He's bad, but he can still fix it. He only wished Kris would've told him sooner. He tries to find his voice, but only a painful, choked, sound comes out.
He looks at them, trying to find their validation. He's good now, right? They still like him. It's not too late for him.
Instead of meeting their eyes, though, the thing that catches his attention is the metallic smell coming from their lips.
They are smeared with blood. The contrast between red and blue is impossible to ignore. Their teeth are stained as well. A thin line of crimson liquid travels from their lower lip to their chin, and down their neck. Small circles stain their mantle as well.
“Kris! Goodness, you're bleeding!” he exclaims with a worried but — forced — upbeat tone. He shoots them what he hopes comes across as a reassuring smile. “Here, let me heal you.” Rushing to treat them, he reaches his hand to their cheek as if it was second nature to him (which, in reality, it probably was), trying to stop the red liquid from dripping down their chin, trying to be of some real use.
But Kris quickly wraps their fingers around his wrist just before he can touch their bleeding lips. And the worst thing is that they do it with such gentleness. The touch is fast and strong like lightning, and as soft and light as a feather. They start rubbing their thumb against his dark fur, tracing small circles, and it leaves Ralsei wondering, after everything they had told him to do, how could Kris do this to him? How can they be so cruel and tender at the same time. How can they make him give up his sense of self and seconds later treat him with such tantalizing care?
He pushes these inappropriate thoughts aside. He can’t be thinking like this. Not when he knows who’s really in charge of their actions. To allow such destructive, bitter thoughts in his mind is to admit that the human is right. That perhaps he does need the hat.
Before he knows it, his hand is free again. And that's when his legs give out.
Shaking on the floor, gasping for air, tear after tear after tear after tear, they smile at them. Hoping that they are happy. That they are satisfied. That he's fulfilling his purpose.
He tries looking them in the eye, searching for answers to meaningless questions but instead being met with two dull pools of blood. Two dull pools of blood that aren't quite looking at him, but rather through him. As if he was invisible. As if he was nothing, which to them he probably is. They don’t look happy. They don’t look disgusted. They don’t look anything. Just empty, empty, empty.
And then the prince's gaze drops to their shiny breastplate.
And then he sees it.
His own reflection.
Blurry and hazy and foggy.
Void for fur. Two colorless dots for eyes.
A smile on his face.
He's just a stain on Kris' armor. A cloud of ink. A smudged charcoal drawing. A shadow.
Only a shadow. Only a shadow.
Only a shadow.
He stares at it. That’s not him he sees, right? It can’t be. There’s just no chance. After everything he's gone through. After how he feels. That thing in front of him… It surely can't be him.
And yet, it’s what the prophecy calls “him".
The prince. He's the prince. This is how he is supposed to look. How he should look like. This is what he is supposed to be. How he should feel.
It's like he's not in the room. Not physically at least. Everything feels like it's moving. Surrounded by all this objects he doesn't own, it all feels so claustrophobic.
And once they finally leave, he can only wonder.
Was any of this worth it? Had all of the times he’d been told he was valuable, that he was deserving of a life, nothing but a mere fantasy for him to foolishly entertain? Was this his punishment for thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could choose who to be?
He is not a real person. He could never be one. He doesn't deserve to be one. And if Kris wants him to look like this, he will. He will. He had done it before. He could do it again. But why is it so painful this time? Why does he feel like his heart is being ripped out?
He can only grieve, like the pathetic being he is, the life he'll never get to experience.
But no. He had to be strong. He had to be stronger. For Kris. For Susie. For his friends’ future. So they could be happy.
The only sign that Kris had ever been in the room was the small trail of red dots they had left behind.