The sound of retching echoed through the room, spilling out of the bathroom in a low, miserable rhythm. In the cramped space, a lone figure convulsed, his green hair stark against the sickly pallor of his skin. Koki's red eyes were screwed shut, his face twisted with pain as he vomited, the harsh sound of it hitting the toilet water echoing back at him.
As he retched, memories of Earth hit him in broken flashes, pieces of a life he had never truly escaped. Ryujin, his adoptive guardian, stood at the center of them all—a man whose cruelty had left wounds far deeper than the ones on Koki's body. His mind filled with images of Ryujin's face twisted in rage, of pain and humiliation dealt out without mercy. The memories stayed with him, eating at his mind like acid.
Even now, alone in the bathroom, Koki felt the weight of those scars. He folded his arms over himself, fingers brushing the hidden marks on his back—the legacy of hot metal and whip lashes crossing his skin. Ryujin's punishments had always come without reason, handed out over the smallest things. Koki tried to push the memories away, but they clung to him like an open wound.
In the silence between each retch, his ears rang with the echoes of the past. The bathroom felt smaller, the walls closing in around him. For a moment, he was back in Ryujin's house, trapped in that nightmare all over again. The sound of his own vomiting was the only thing anchoring him to the present, proof that he was still here, still alive.
Koki's breathing came rough and heavy, his chest rising and falling with effort. Cold dread sank into his bones, making his hands shake. Every breath scraped at his throat. Fear had carved itself into his face, twisting it into something desperate.
"Damn bastard... he's not here yet..." Koki muttered under his breath. Panic pressed in, threatening to drag him under, but he refused to let it. With a sharp breath, he turned to the bath and plunged his head beneath the water. He screamed into it, the sound swallowed at once, the rush in his ears loud and dull and endless.
When he pulled back up, he coughed dryly, the sound rough and raw. He grabbed at his neck, trying to steady himself, eyes wide with panic. "You can do this. You always do," he told himself, voice tight with anger and pleading. "Smile. Just keep smiling. Please... for God's sake." The words came out like a prayer, desperate and fraying.
…
The knock at the door pulled Koki back from the edge. He took a deep breath, though his emotions still churned under the surface, and called out, "Who is it?" His tone came out sharper than he meant, edged with irritation and caution.
The answer came right away, high and worried. "Master, it's me, Arthur. Please open the door."
Koki looked toward it, his eyes still red and swollen from earlier. He pushed himself up from the floor, movements stiff and unsteady, and made his way over. His hair clung to his forehead, and his upper half was still damp from the bath.
When he opened the door, he forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "What brings you here at this hour, Arthur?" he asked, trying to sound casual despite the mess still churning inside him.
Arthur, his butler, adjusted his mask, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Koki's soaked hair and shaken state.
"I noticed you seemed... distressed," Arthur said quietly. "Is everything all right, Master?"
Koki shook his head once, curt and dismissive. "You can see I'm fine. Leave it at that."
Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. His face stayed calm, respectful.
Koki glanced at him, then toward the hall. "Shall we go, Arthur? We don't want to be late."
Arthur nodded and gave the room one last look before stepping beside him.
"No problem, Sire," he said softly.
Together, they left the room behind, along with the last traces of Koki's breakdown.
…
As they headed for the cafeteria, Koki's thoughts drifted again, heavy with doubt. The past three months had been long, and he had pushed himself hard, determined to become stronger—strong enough, at least, to protect himself. From what he had learned in the Thief's sanctum, the Islevale Garden of the Thief Scenario, their role was mostly support in combat-heavy situations. Their stealth and skills were meant to back up other Scenarios, but that did not mean they were helpless on their own.
The training had been brutal, but what weighed on him more was everything else. He had tried to connect with the others, to make friends, to build something real, but he always seemed stuck at the edges, watching instead of joining in. Every attempt at conversation felt awkward. More often than not, he just ended up feeling foolish.
A familiar doubt crept back in, whispering in his ear. You're a coward. You're not enough. You never will be.
Koki lowered his eyes to the floor as he tried to shut the voice out. He knew it wasn't fully true, but the fear stayed there anyway, eating at his confidence.
He needed to get better. He needed to find a way through the fear, through the doubt. Walking beside Arthur, Koki held onto that thought. He would push through this. He would learn how to reach others. He would become who he needed to be.
As Koki sat at the cafeteria table, his thoughts wandered again, disappearing into themselves. Tomorrow they were going into the city, one of those routine trips that seemed common in every Scenario. His heart gave a small jolt at the thought of maybe seeing Ryo again. The question that had been haunting him surfaced once more, refusing to stay buried: did Ryo really not remember him?
The cafeteria noise faded into the background until Arthur's voice cut through it.
"Master, are you sure you're all right? You've been ignoring me for a while."
Koki blinked and looked up, cheeks warming as he forced a small, uneasy smile. "Oh—sorry, Arthur. I got lost in thought. It's nothing serious."
His eyes moved around the room, avoiding Arthur's gaze. He couldn't shake the feeling that Arthur saw straight through him.
Arthur still looked doubtful, but he didn't press. Instead, he repeated himself in the same calm tone. "What would you like to eat, Master? The usual?"
Koki glanced at the food, his stomach tightening with hunger. After a moment, he answered quietly. "Yeah. That sounds fine, Arthur. Thanks."
Arthur nodded and turned to place the order. As soon as he did, Koki's thoughts drifted again. He couldn't stop wondering what tomorrow would bring, or if he would finally get the answer he wanted.
•X• •X• •X•
-the present-
Ryo's eyes stayed fixed on the pages of his book, the words blurring together as he read. Knowledge mattered here. In a world like this, staying informed meant staying alive. He walked slowly, still half-lost in the text. The bright beauty flowers nearby caught his eye, but only for a second before he made his way to a bench.
He dropped onto the wooden seat with a quiet sigh, flipping through the pages with practiced ease. He was just getting pulled back in when a nudge broke his focus.
Mei slid onto the bench beside him, still looking at her own book as she motioned for him to move. "Scooch. I'm sitting too."
Ryo shifted to the side without looking up.
Once she settled in, Mei glanced over at him. "So, Ryobai, what's your plan moving forward? Got anything in mind, or was I right and it's nothing?"
Ryo looked up at once, annoyance sparking. "What did I do to deserve that? Don't twist my name." He shot her a look. "And I doubt you've got a better plan, Mei the Meek."
Mei's face didn't change, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure your complete lack of planning is a sign of great leadership, Ryobai. I'm amazed you found your way here." She turned a page. "As for me, I'll observe and wait. It's worked so far."
Ryo snorted, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. "Observe and wait? That's your grand strategy? Just sit there until life decides for you? I go with the flow, sure, but at least I'm not frozen by indecision."
Mei's voice sharpened slightly. "And at least I don't stumble into things without thinking. You're just hoping something useful falls into your lap, aren't you, Ryobai?"
"I'm not hoping," Ryo shot back. "I'm adapting. You're just too rigid to get that."
Mei looked at him flatly. "I'm not rigid. I'm just not foolish enough to think I can control everything."
They went back and forth like that, each jab landing cleanly. For all the annoyance between them, it was clear they both wanted the same thing—to survive, to succeed—even if their ways of getting there were completely different.
At last, Mei closed her book. "Well, since neither of us has a real plan, let's talk about it properly like I said earlier. Meet me in the room at the beginning of the boundary."
Ryo frowned slightly as he tried to make sense of that. The room at the beginning of the boundary? He had no clue which one she meant. The place was all twisting corridors and rooms that looked exactly the same. He made a mental note to ask later, but for now, he let it go. He would deal with it when the time came, like always.
Mei stood, smooth and precise, and tucked her book into her pocket. "I'll see you there," she said, then turned and walked off, leaving Ryo on the bench wondering what exactly he had just agreed to.