Chapter Text
“Is that really all you have?” Asked the grey-haired nameless as he set a fine lacquer chest down.
“That's all I have.”
“It’s so light, did you bring a feather or something?”
“That’s why I told you I didn’t need help.”
“Anyway, if you need a few trash cans to fit your stuff I can lend you a few.”
“No thank you. I don’t have much belongings as you can see.”
“But you should probably buy more clothes before we leave for good. Who knows what might happen on our next warp. Last time we got stuck in a nasty nest of beetles for god knows how long.”
“Going back might be a bit tricky now.”
“Because you have a bounty on your head? Don’t worry, just a little disguise would be enough to fool them.”
Sunday fiddled with his hands and dropped his shoulder, the weight of unspoken fears pressing down on his chest. “What… if I can’t let go when I see her again?”
A faint smile flickered across Sunday’s face, but it felt more like a mask than an expression of true happiness. He didn’t take the time for proper goodbyes as if he was running away from his feelings.
Even if they were enemies a little while ago, Caelus was pained to see this kind of expression on Sunday face. He didn’t want to see this kind of expression on any of the members of the Express. Caelus stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sunday, and to his surprise he was more frail and vulnerable than he appeared to be and it made Caelus’ heart ache.
“What are you doing?”
“Hugging you.”
The only person Sunday hugged in his whole life was his sister when they were still kids. That memory was precious to him and he had no intent to overwrite it.
“I can see that. Why are you doing this?”
“The gang always looks for me for a hug when they feel down. My body’s temperature is high you see? They say it helps to melt their bad thoughts away.”
“...” Sunday remained silent but he didn’t put up any resistance either.
“Err… Does it work?” said Caelus as he peeked down.
Sunday looked away as he cleared his throat, “To think we were at each other's throat a while ago, this situation seems completely unreal. Maybe we are still in a dreamscape…, who knows?”
Caelus grimaced, “Please no… I'm still traumatized by that…”
Sunday puffed at that childish complaint, how could the one that defeated him be like this, “Ridiculous, we are fully awake...”
“If you have the mood to make fun of me like this I guess you are fine.”
Sunday didn’t let Caelus go and hugged back without saying a word. It was the first time for him to be comforted like this since he became an adult. He was surprised and relieved he didn’t find his touch uncomfortable at all.
As welcoming as most of the members are, the Express was an unfamiliar place where he was stripped of power and control. Exhaustion washed over him as he was trying to fit, trying to please, trying to be useful, trying to fit into everyone's routine without success.
No one really needed him and he felt restless.
All his fixation about control and order came from this man he once called father. But he never realised until that day the man he looked up to conditioned him like this to break him better. At some point he knew he was being manipulated but he never thought the little liberty he believed to have grasped with his own hands was a mere illusion to make him more compliant.
With his sister as a hostage and he has no choice than to give in the binds that were chaining him to this cursed seat. His only escape was becoming the hostage himself.
“What am I going to do with you, Sunday? I am truly heartbroken and disappointed. I raised you with all my love but you tried to bite back. You strayed far from the nest.”
“Proving my loyalty to the Family. I can do it.”
“Now you are crawling back to my feet begging for forgiveness? Do you deserve it? Maybe I should take your sister back after all. She won’t have the guts to betray us when her wings are clipped…”
“I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m not foolish enough to believe I can regain your trust when I betrayed you once. I have bigger stakes to offer you.”
“What can you offer when you have nothing left?”
Sunday gave a dagger to the man and spread his wings. “A flightless bird can only be loyal to his caregiver.”
The man cracked a smile, he was waiting for this from the beginning. “I wondered what kind of nonsense you were going to say but I didn’t expect this.”
“Don't play dumb, father. I know you were planning to corner me like this,” Sunday felt miserable as he couldn’t hide the shaking in his voice, “and…you win.”
“Are you afraid?”
“If living hell is the price to keep her safe I'm willing to live like that everyday.”
Halovians were deeply connected to their wings. It is said that inflicting pain on their wings was more agonizing than being stabbed in the heart multiple times. It was a cruel method used by slave traders to force them into submission.
“Lay down, I'll make it as painless as possible.”
The hands he felt on his wings were cold and foreign, it was nothing like the one that gave him headpats when he was younger. They were now holding his head down, stripping his dignity away. This unfamiliar feeling was craving a hole in his chest. He wondered when things started to fall apart. Maybe the hand he held out that day was already cold but he was too young and naive to understand. Those cruel hands would fondle his body, telling him to relax but all he felt was disgust. The numbness spread, leaving him trapped in a cycle of confusion and pain.
The little innocence left in him was stripped away, just like his freedom.
“Are you still with me, my Sunday?” Sunday was laying on the bed like a lifeless body, ice cold eyes were laying on his bare skin, checking if he was still breathing.
He was still in shock after his wings got torn away from his flesh while being fully conscious, leaving him in a state worse than death. He was probably better dead hundred times than laying on this bed. His surroundings felt distant and surreal. He could sense the presence of that man close to him. He felt those disgusting hands caressing his open wounds and the few wings left on his body for the ‘’’’shape'''’ before feeling a sharp burning pain on his upper wings. He didn't let a single whimper escape when his wings were severe. Yet his tears couldn't help but to trickle down his face when his upper wings were mercilessly pierced by a cold bar of metal marking him forever. A heavy hand pressed his chest down, suppressing his struggle. That man was still above him forcing himself between his legs.
“Ssshh… Don't cry.” The man’s voice seemed alien to him as he caressed the precious jewels he put on his wings. “Remember, Sunday. These will be a reminder of today's punishment, a reminder that you belong to me.”
Sunday jolted awake, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. The cold grip of fear wrapped around him, as he instinctively reached for the old scars that throbbed with a familiar pain. His hands shook, the knot in his throat tightening. A chilling sensation crept over him, as if someone was watching.
“W-who’s there?”
Caelus appeared in the narrow gap of the door. In the dim light, Sunday couldn't see clearly, but he recognized the figure immediately. The height, the familiar outline, and those soft golden eyes filled with worry made it obvious—it was Caelus.
“Are you okay?” Caelus asked, concern evident in his voice. “You look like you're having another nightmare.”
The weight of those words hung in the air. Sunday felt a mix of relief and sadness. Caelus always seemed to know when things weren’t right. And every night since Sunday joined the Express, Caelus came to his room to check on him without fail.
For a long time, Sunday had been free from nightmares when he was in Penacony. He could shape and control his dreams at will. Being affected by these uncontrollable nightmares was out of his calculations. He believed he already went over this a long time ago.
“I'm coming in.” Caelus kneeled before Sunday's bedside a mug between his hands. He brought a mellow scent of lemon and honey with him. “I don't know if you like lemon tea but it tastes better than coffee.”
“Thank you,” Sunday took the almost too hot mug between his palm but just silently stared at the golden color of his brevage then he took a deep breath. “Did I wake you up again?”
“I was up late playing games, hehe.”
Sunday took a sip between two blows to not burn himself. The heat from the cup felt good against his lips, but it didn't chase away the chill that gripped him. “May I request a hug?” he asked before thinking twice. As he spoke, he noticed the spark in those golden eyes. A wave of embarrassment washed over him. He quickly turned, hiding his face behind his wing. “Forget it.”
Caelus didn’t miss a second to sit next to him to peer into his face with a big smile. “Of course you can have a hug!” he exclaimed proudly. “I am very confident in my hugging skills. Don’t need to be shy to be a repeater!”
His enthusiasm was clear. The warmth of his offer was genuine and his straightforwardness was making Sunday feel even more shameful. “I said forget it.”
But Caelus just hugged him anyway. Sunday really liked the warmth that emanated from him. Despite spending his days rummaging through trash cans he didn’t smell bad, on the contrary, his scent reminded him of the sun and Sunday found it very comforting.
“Sooo, how many stars out of five?”
“Three.”
“That so low!”
“Because you talk too much.”
“I’ll stay silent, so you better give me ten stars.”
“Right, but will you be able to stay quiet for even five minutes?”
“You are underestimating me.”
Caelus could feel Sunday's laughter against his chest. “I bet Robin would laugh at me.”
“Is this a trap to make me speak, oh wait-” Caelus covered his mouth.
“I was just talking to myself.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I’m being childish and I’m letting myself be pampered like this…”
“I bet she would laugh at you for being stubborn.”
“Ahaha.”
“But she is probably the person who wants to give you a hug the most in this world,” his voice softened almost making him sound lonely, “you are her only one beloved brother.”
Sunday always believed Caelus was just a muscle airhead but sometimes he would say things that would make him want to know more about him, about his past. He wondered what made him this carefree and lonely at the same time.
As the days rolled by, Caelus would bound toward Sunday like an exuberant puppy, his laughter echoing in the air. Each time they met, Sunday found himself surrendering to those spontaneous hugs, the warmth of Caelus wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. Yet, amid the embrace of this vibrant friendship, an unsettling restlessness stirred within Sunday whenever he listened to his sister’s songs. The notes, filled with bittersweet longing, reminded him of the void left by her absence. Strangely, he no longer felt as lonesome as he should; Caelus’ infectious energy acted as a shield against his solitude. But deep down, a flicker of fear ignited in Sunday’s heart—the worry that one day, he might forget the ache of missing his sister, and along with it, lose the connection they once shared.
Sunday flicked his fingers and Caelus arms were restrained with vines within an instant.
“Wah! W-why?”
Sunday crossed his arms . “I’d like to redefine our boundaries.”
“Boundaries?”
“Things like personal distance.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“First of all I want you to stop hugging me out of nowhere. Especially in front of other people.”
“I thought we were friends, we were family!”
“I don’t hug my sister.”
“There are families who hug each other! Like us on the Express!”
“Your definition of family is erroneous.”
“But you consider me at least like a friend, don’t you?”
Sunday didn’t expect him to ask him this question all of a sudden, “We are…?” Was Caelus really just a friend? He did consider Danheng and March like friends but Caelus was slightly different, he felt his connection with him much deeper than a simple friend.
“Even I can get hurt if you make such a distressed face…”
Sunday’s chest tightened as he heard those words.
“But if you hate my hugs that much I’ll just keep them all for PomPom and the rest of the Express!”
Sunday couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt annoyed. Caelus was understanding and didn’t insist so why was he so irritated? “Suit yourself.”
He unbinded Caelus and pushed him out of his room.