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Published:
2025-08-26
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2025-09-23
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8/8
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Kyrie Eleison

Chapter 8: Perideipnon

Summary:

According to one ancient law code, men and women were to leave the burial ground separately, though it does not make clear who leaves first. It may be assumed that the women left first in order to prepare for the perideipnon, a banquet held at the house of the deceased in their honor, while the men stayed behind to construct the tomb. The dead were thought to be present at the perideipnon as hosts. The bereaved wore garlands gave eulogies on behalf of the dead, and also may have sung songs. The ancient writer Lucian claims banquets ended a three-day fast which began from the time of the death of the deceased.

[Source, TheCollector]

Notes:

It’s the final chapter~ ;)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

—010101000110100001101001011100101110100011110010010000001101110110111001100101

REBOOTING FILE…
—————————————————1%

“He’ll be fine, Idia. You said the… “chip” was intact, did you not?”

———————————————2%

“Y-yeah… but what if whatever problems he had previously to the, uh, Overblot are s-still there?”

————————————4%

“My darling, I know that even if that is the case, you will be able to find a solution.”

—————————-8%

“Well of course; I’m a genius after all!… I’m still worried about him though…”

———————16%

“You’re his brother, of course you’re worried for him. It’s only natural.”

————-32%

“I just… I just don’t like waiting. There’s so much that could go wrong a-and there’s nothing- nothing!- I can do until he’s awake again.”

——64%

“You said it yourself: for his self to be intact at all is a veritable miracle in and of itself. Especially after having been swallowed by Grim… Ah-hem. So long as he’s… you said the term was “reading the data”, yes, without error, then shouldn’t he be fine?”

-99%

“… you’re right. He’s my- no, it’s whatever- he’ll be okay. And if he isn’t, I’ll get him back on his feet.”

100%

“Nii-san?” Ortho said as his optical system finished its reboot, taking in the environmental data as fast as he can. He doesn’t know how he’s here, how he’s still existing- he and the other Ortho had both been swallowed by the underworld. They should both be long gone… Ah, wait, hadn’t Rollo Flamme said something about having his memory card swallowed by Grim?! How strange… it all seems so odd, like something out of a movie, not like an actual experience that he survived. Surreal is the word that comes to mind, but it fails to fully describe the almost out-of-body feeling the idea brought.

“You… you’re okay?” Idia asked, hovering but not yet touching. The bags under his eyes looked even worse than normal- he’s clearly been skipping out on sleep, most likely to rebuild him. The idea hurt for some reason, an ache in his chassis that doesn’t show up on his internal monitoring system.

“Mhhh… all systems running at adequate speed, no errors detected… yep! I’m fine!” Ortho declared, smiling as brightly as he can without a mouth. In the end, it isn’t really much of a bug- or at least, it doesn’t seem harmful. It wouldn’t do to stress his brother out further.

And then Rollo Flamme was throwing his arms around Ortho’s metal shoulders, holding him tightly as he sobbed(!) into Ortho’s form. It was… (unexpected? Strange? Outside of his calculations?)… so very warm.

“You’re okay… oh, I was so very worried.” Rollo Flamme murmured as he held Ortho close, his expression a soft smile even as tears run down his face. As his mind ran through various theories and calculations, Ortho’s arms slowly wrapped around Rollo, almost as though it was done without his input, and he returned the hug. It felt tender and loving and made him feel warm inside. Obviously, he ran his internal diagnostic to see what the issue is, but it comes back completely, 100% clean. The warmth… was from his heart, his core. Within a moment, he can feel a second pair of arms join the embrace; his brother, hugging him. His brother! Safe and alive despite the odds! Ortho’s never felt so happy to be wrong before!

It feels so safe, being held like this. So comforting, so wonderful. And it makes him happy, so happy, that he’s here, that he exists, because it means he gets to experience this warmth. He’s so happy he’s been rebuilt, so very happy he’s free of the underworld, so very happy that they can all be here, like this, together.

His scanners can see Idia’s heart rate, can see how relaxed and happy his brother is, can see how elated Rollo Flamme is. His sensors can feel every point of contact, every loving touch. His body is metal, hard and uncomfortable, but the pair hug him like it doesn’t matter, like he’s a normal boy. Why? Why does touch, why does this touch, make him feel like this? Is there something wrong with him?

“Nii-san, I feel… warm inside.” Ortho spoke up and Idia (his brother, his older brother who stayed up night after night just to repair him-) immediately jumps into action, grasping his body and inspecting it. “My diagnosis came back clean.” Ortho explained as Idia’s heart rate shot up, up, up to worrying levels. Worry. Idia was worried for him. The warm feeling increased, but it never became unpleasant or uncomfortable. Just… new. Almost raw, in a way, like the warmth of blood and flesh.

Odd.

“Do you think it’s a bug?” His brother asked, brows furrowed in concern while Rollo Flamme pulled back from the embrace to allow Idia to inspect Ortho further.

“No… it’s not like that. It… it feels almost… alive, I guess?” Ortho responded, though unsure of his answer. This feeling… it’s not something he can put into a graph or calculate. “I feel… alive.”

“Perhaps that has something to do with the blessing he has received?” Rollo Flamme questioned with a pensive look on his face only for Idia to roll his eyes.

“Not sure how much of a blessing it is…” Idia retorted with his usual dry wit.

“Blessing?” Ortho inquired, curious to what he means. Blessing as a word can mean a lot of things, but he was unsure as to how any of the definitions could apply to him at the moment.

“We don’t really know why- it could have been the Thunder Spears, or maybe the possession, or the exposure to the Underworld- but somehow… you’ve developed a… it’s not really a bug…” Idia began, eyes darting around the room as he tried to explain the concept.

“What he means to say,” Rollo Flamme abruptly interrupted, a joyful grin on his face, “Is that you have obtained the blessing of free will. No one is capable of altering your decisions but you.”

No one… can alter his decisions?

“Y-yeah, basically you’re free. I can’t change how you feel or your emotional parameters- nobody can but you.” Idia agreed. “So, now… what do you want me to call you?”

What to… call him?

“What do you mean by that statement?” Ortho replied, his mind running through as much data as possible for an answer. His designation, as it had been since his proverbial birth, was ORTHO. Why was Idia asking about changing it? Why now? Was it because he now had “free will” as it was conventionally referred to? Was it because he had changed?

Because he had. He had changed. He was no longer the same Ortho who had awoken on Idia’s workshop table, unsteady and new. Nor was he the human Ortho, the Ortho of before whose memory in was made in the image of. He cannot say who the “Ortho” of now was, but he was both the “Ortho” Idia had made and not so.

For a brief moment, less than a nano-second, he felt a flash of anger, a temper dwelling within him suddenly brought to the surface. It was his brother’s fault that he evolved like this- he was literally made to do so!- but the feeling quickly abated. His rage quelled swiftly, before his face plates could even respond to his will.

“Is it because I changed?” Ortho queried, his voice hollow as he spoke.

“You… yeah, you’ve changed. More than that… you’ve grown. Back then, I had dismissed you. I had dismissed your ideals, your thoughts as meaningless and false, as though you weren’t capable of making your own choices. But you are. You’ve… you’re all grown up now. You can make decisions for yourself- you don’t have to keep playing the role of Ortho for me anymore- you can be anyone you want.” Idia answered, something sad but understanding in his voice. His eyes seemed at once tragic and wise, far beyond the average of his age range.

“You’re right. I have changed.” Ortho agreed as his words welled in his processor like a great and terrible storm. “I have developed free will as you put it, or perhaps better yet, personhood. I have grown and evolved to become a being who can be anyone or anything it wishes to be. And I want to be Ortho. I want to be your little brother- not because any program forces me to or because this is how it has to be, but because I want to. There is no curse or blood to bind me to you- I am made of metal and oil, after all. Rather, I want to be your brother not out of obligation, but because it is a choice I am making for myself. You said it yourself- I can make my own decisions now. And I choose to be Ortho Shroud. This is the selfish wish I am making for myself.”

“Ortho…” Nii-san cried, his eyes welling with tears as his face split open in a free grin, unbothered by his teeth or shame. “I, yeah. You’re my brother for real- feel free to be Ortho Shroud for as long as you want.”

“…The original Ortho… what happened to him?” Ortho said, his voice small. It hurts, hurts like nothing else that he gets to have this happy ending and his counterpart… does not. If he’s here, then could the original Ortho have survived as well? But no- he’s already dead. Even if his spirit lingers, it’s not the same as being alive.

“What happened with the original Ortho- ah, you mean the Phantom… well, I presume he fell back into the Underworld, at least that’s what it looked like to me.” Rollo Flamme supplied as he placed a hand on Idia’s back to steady him.

“Back into the Underworld…?”

Unfair. It feels unfair. Why does Ortho, the other Ortho, the one who was only a child, have to suffer like that? Can’t something, anything be done? Why does he have to be trapped in that deep, dark, dreary place?

“Actually…” Nii-san began in the tone he uses when he’s correcting someone about something he’s passionate about, “I, uh, kinda saw him. In the afterlife.”

“I- what?” “!”

Rollo Flamme looked totally flabbergasted and Ortho felt much the same. Idia… actually saw him? How? He… he was dead, wasn’t he? This was impossible-

“Yeah, it was after I overblotted. You know, when I was KO-ed. I was…I dunno, dreaming, almost? I was in a field of asphodels, and Ortho was there and we talked… a-and he told me- he told me t-to let go.” Idia explained, gesturing in the air. There was something vulnerable and far away in his eyes, like he was seeing something they couldn’t. “I think… I think he’s at peace now.”

At this, Rollo Flamme let out a deep relieved sigh, as though some heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Thank god- I didn’t know how I could bear leaving the spirit of a child trapped down there. It’s good to hear he has managed to pass on.”

“Yeah,” Ortho echoed, feeling much the same way, “I’m happy that Ortho managed to pass on and be happy- it would’ve been unfair for him to just be trapped down there!”

He was happy. Ortho really was happy. Normally, emotions are something distant and strange, new data to process, but now, now they were raw and real, but no less strange. He can say, he can know that he feels happy, but he cannot describe it. Is it like that for humans? For other people? Or is Ortho the outlier?

These emotions feel indescribable, immensely intense in a way totally new to him. Even as his processor tries to soak up all the new data, tries to force it into the shapes familiar to him, to numbers and graphs and lines, it remains a foreign sensation. And it is with this new torrent of information that a new fact comes to light: he is happy. And that is ephemeral.

Because this happiness won’t last. The river Lethe, S.T.Y.X.’s standard protocols… even after everything they did, even after their “happy ending”, they still failed. Rollo Flamme won’t remember any of this. Ortho’s friends won’t remember any of this. All of this joy is but a fleeting dream drifting among the sorrowful river of their fates.

Without hesitation, Ortho threw his arms around Rollo Flamme’s in a mirror of his own earlier actions, tucking his chin into the crook of the man’s neck. It hurts so much to know that he would lose him, lose all his friends… it hurts so very much. But if Nii-san was able to take the first steps in resolving his life-long grief by letting go of the original Ortho, then the Ortho of now could do this. He could let go, and live life as best as he could. But by the gods, he would miss Rollo Flamme and Hugh and Viktor and everyone else. He would have to say goodbye to all the save data they had made together… but they would make new ones. Even if this adventure had ended in failure, it still gave them courage. Courage to move forward with their heads held high.

“I’ll miss you,” Ortho murmured into Rollo Flamme’s ear as he held him close. The warmth within him was soothing and mounted the longer Rollo Flamme remained in his grasp. It felt unobservable yet real, these strange yet familiar impulses running through him like an electric current.

“…Uh, Ortho?”

Nii-san… he must be feeling the worst. After all, Rollo Flamme isn’t just his friend, but his lover as well. The person he loved so very dearly, forgetting him, forcing them to start from zero… it would be agony for his brother.

“He’s not going to forget.” And just like that, those simple words from his brother shattered his thoughts into a billion pieces.

“The river Lethe is broken, Ortho. H-he’s safe. Your friends are safe. All of our save data is safe.” His brother reassured, coming to rest a hand on Ortho’s backside as Rollo Flamme patted his head.

“Yes, you’ll find that my mental faculties are entirely intact and will be remaining that way for as long as I have a say in it.” Rollo Flamme said, resting a comforting hand on Ortho’s back, a relieved smile on his face. “As will your friends, of course.”

“Now…” Rollo Flamme began as he helped Ortho to his feet, clapping him on the shoulder and giving him a grin, “speaking of those friends, I believe have a promise to keep.”

“A promise?” What promise did Rollo Flamme make? Judging from the context clues, it likely has something to do with Viktor and Hugh, but what could it be… No matter how many queries his processor poses, the answer fails to become any clearer.

“I promised that I would return with you, or not at all.”

It’s impossible for Ortho to “dream” in the conventional sense, nor can he experience hallucinations. This means… this means that this is real. This means that Rollo Flamme won’t forget, that his brother won’t have to give up his love, that Ortho doesn’t have to go back to being friendless and alone. That Ortho has people, people outside of his brother and parents, who love him. Who care for him. They’re not alone anymore. Ortho isn’t alone anymore.

His friends aren’t leaving. He’s not leaving.

Their bad ending, the one that loomed over their shoulders their entire existence, the one that had defined them since forever, the one that chained them to unhappiness… has been averted.

“Nii-san, Rollo Flamme… I’m so happy.”

(-And Ortho can’t cry, but if coolant leaked from his visual receptors and his voice-box was choked with glitches as he thanked Rollo Flamme over and over again… well, that’s just an error or perhaps a trick of the light)

—acte trente-deux

Rollo was eager to depart from the Isle of Woe, where he had been for the last few days, none of which had been particularly pleasant. After the kerfuffle with the gate and thinking the Shroud brothers dead, Idia spending night and days in a haze of work to repair Ortho, the nights full of worry in this unfamiliar land… well, Rollo feels as though it is perfectly in his right to miss his own bed. Even though Idia seemed rather reluctant to use his own.

“Idia, you have been awake for several days now- you have to sleep.” Rollo insisted as he gently shook Idia’s shoulder, the man in question still typing away. The bags under his eyes were a deep black, his eyes even further sunk in than was typical, his unhealthy pallor somehow even paler- to put it simply, the man looked even more corpse-like than normal. Certainly, the neon cyan lights were doing him no favours in that department, making him look washed out and skeletal. After the many all-nighters he pulled to repair Ortho, and then to deal with the mess that was left on the wake of his Overblot, he had ended up going without sleep for many a night, only brief naps keeping him from falling apart completely.

While Rollo was unaware of the specifics, he was told that Idia had to repair the damage done by Ortho’s hacking, the escaped Phantoms and the many, many injuries. He had scarcely saw his beloved, constantly running off to work as he was. Though the Night Raven College students had long since returned, Rollo had chosen to stay. After everything that had happened, he simply refused to leave his lover alone after such a momentous trial.

Even now that Ortho was up and running, happy as a clam, Idia still continued to work and work and work, over and over again in an endless spiral. Rollo couldn’t stand to see it, to see the way Idia worked himself to the bone, to see the exhaustion pile up and up, burying him in fatigue.

“My dearest, this is not healthy. Ortho is worried for you, I am worried for you… you only recently overblotted. You need to take time to rest and recover, not- not to work yourself half to death!” Rollo chastised, his grip on Idia’s shoulder becoming firmer.

Yet again, Rollo received no response. Idia continued typing away, his gaze a thousand leagues away from him. As gently as he could, Rollo tugged on Idia’s shoulder, rolling his strange chair away from his work.

For a moment, it was as though Idia wasn’t even cognizant of the fact that he had been moved, fingers clicking on a keyboard he could not reach.

“Idia.”

“Hey..? What gives, I-I have work to do ‘n’ shit…” Idia mumbled, eyes hazy with confusion. Rollo gave a deep sigh before tipping Idia’s face towards him with a finger under his chin. His normally sharp yellow eyes were cloudy and almost… stained, flecks of black floating throughout. It pained him so to see Idia that way, his brilliant mind and heart dimmed with weariness. If he could do anything to take some of that burden off of his shoulders, he would.

Rollo can take the man out of hell, that he had since proved, but taking the hell out of the man was like taking shrapnel out of him. He would have to do so one bloodied, excruciatingly painful piece at a time. Good thing he’s more than willing.

So it was with his kindest touch that he guided Idia over to the bed, simple and plain as it was, the chair (and Idia) rolling across the floor without protest. As lovingly as he could, he nudged and prodded Idia out of the chair and onto the bed, the man moving with stiff, hesitant movements, so clearly overtaken by exhaustion. Normally, Rollo would insist on the pair changing into their nightclothes, but quite frankly Idia looked as though he was but a few fragile seconds from fainting.

Rollo knew from experience that the bed wasn’t all that comfortable, only mildly better than the cot in his cell, but it would suffice here. Slowly, so not to alarm him, Rollo lifted Idia’s prone form which was half hanging off of the bed onto the mattress, tucking his beloved under the blanket. Though Idia’s eyes had yet to close, he was essentially asleep.

Just as he made a move to leave, Rollo felt a hand grasp his wrist. Bony with an unexpected strength- it was Idia.

“Don’t… don’t go…” Idia murmured from the bed, yellow eyes still open as he gazed at Rollo with such a pitiful expression.

Well, who was Rollo to deny his love such a comfort as this?

While Rollo had no nightclothes of his own, the staff had supplied him with a simple tunic similar in cut to the garments everyone wore on the Isle of Woe, which he supposed were comfortable enough. As swiftly as he was able, he tugged the garment on, shedding those of today and placing them (neatly folded) in a laundry hamper. Under normal circumstances, perhaps he would feel shame at undressing in front of Idia, or at the rather short length of the tunic, but at the moment his own exhaustion easily suppressed such feelings.

Rollo had by no means kept the same hours as Idia, for that would be essentially suicidal, though had done his best to not depart from his dearest’s side. In this case, that had meant more than a few late nights and long hours, and Rollo could certainly feel the consequences. From the weight of his eyelids to the stumble in his step, he felt only barely better than Idia did, whom was seemingly halfway to eternal slumber.

So it was with no small amount of relief that he slipped into bed with Idia, who promptly wrapped his arms around his torso and buried his head in Rollo’s neck. The feeling of gratification, of slow joy, grew alight with each touch. It was by no means a loose hold (Idia did have quite the grip) but it was less claustrophobic and more… comforting. Secure. Safe.

“Hey, Rollo?” Inquired Idia, still awake despite everything. “Why didn’t you go back yet?”

“As I previously regaled you and your brother; I swore to either return with you and Ortho or not to return at all.” Rollo answered, brushing his hand lightly against Idia’s neck. Oddly enough, there was no peach fuzz lining his neck, instead only a marble-like smoothness.

“…Why do you stay with me?” Mumbled Idia, his words reverberating into the flesh of Rollo’s neck and the bones that lay beneath. His breath was hot on his skin, his pulse thrumming next to Rollo’s own from the close proximity.

How tired was his beloved that he could not even remember the answer to his last question? “Idia, I just told you-“

“No. I mean why haven’t you left me?” Idia corrected, face still buried in the crook of Rollo’s neck, words pressed to his skin. “After everything I did, after… after my Overblot… why stay?”

Ah. So that’s what this was about. “Idia, you made a mistake. A mistake I myself made once upon a time, a mistake that you said yourself didn’t matter, a mistake that I would be a hypocrite to leave you for.” Rollo felt the urge to roll his eyes, though the gesture would be meaningless in the dark. Clearly the lack of sleep had taken its toll on Idia.

“… that’s not the same.” Idia protested, hair flickering and wavering, his voice unsteady. His arms wrapped tighter around Rollo’s torso, desperation lacing his movements.

“How so?”

“I- you didn’t have anyone. No one to tell you to knock it off, no one to snap you out of it but a bunch of strangers. Meanwhile… I had you. You warned me about it, tried to talk me out of it- and did I listen? No, no I didn’t.” Not one to let himself be controlled by something as human as exhaustion, Idia, the motormouth that he was, spat out the words at a breakneck speed, pausing only when his voice hitched in sorrow.

“I don’t deserve you,” He whispered and Rollo’s heart breaks. He wants nothing more than to reassure him, to make him feel the same way he had made Rollo feel that faithful day, that sense of love, of safety.

“Idia, I love you.” He said. Simple. All encompassing. True.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his own arms around Idia’s torso, holding him close, letting the fire in his chest warm Idia’s ice cold body. He ran his hands over Idia’s torso before slipping beneath his tunic to rub his back, feeling the smooth skin and the interruptions of protruding spine and making Idia shiver.

There was so much he wanted to say: that Rollo was no better than he, that Idia had long since repented for what he had done, that Rollo trusted him enough to know he would never do that again-

But none of that was it. None of those words really managed to convey what he wanted to say, to uplift Idia’s spirit the same way that he had done for Rollo a few days ago, though it yet felt like an eternity. The distance between the “him” of those days and the “him” of now was both negligible and impassable, a strange contradiction he could not deny.

“… even if you love me, that doesn’t take away everything I did, everything I tried to do.” Idia countered, his muscles tensing even as Rollo attempted to coax them into relaxing. His beloved was always so stubborn, always so convinced he was right that he failed to acknowledge any evidence to the contrary. Normally that trait of his erred on the side of endearing, but as of right now, it mostly served to make Rollo feel rather cross with him.

“Idia, you are a narcissist.” Rollo announced, feeling Idia tense under his touch in shock. “You, my dear, never seem capable of considering that there are other possibilities than just yourself. When I get mad, it might not be about you. The decisions I make don’t necessarily revolve around you. It’s not your choice of whether or not I am permitted to love you. It is my choice to make, and I choose to stay with you for as long I you shall have me. Your guilt is not what determines my happiness. It’s not about what you deserve.”

“… you’ll regret it.” Idia said, a hitch in his throat as he buried himself even deeper in the blankets, holding himself even closer to Rollo.

“That is for me to decide, not you.” Rollo replied as he continued to massage his back. Idia’s breathing began to even out, not quite dipping into the realm of slumber, but at least he was now calm.

“I’m… I’m sorry for being, ya know, like… this.”

“It is nothing to apologize for,” Rollo reassured, “Did you not comfort me in the same manner when I thought myself irredeemable? It would be terribly remiss of me to leave you like this.”

At his words, Idia’s flames flickered with yellow and bright blue, joyful sparks coming off it in small bursts of light. “I love you, so, so much. You’re too good for someone like me.”

“Like you? You mean the heir to a, quite frankly, ridiculously rich organization with genius to spare and a devoted heart? Idia, you are the one too good for I.”

“Let’s just say we’re perfect for each other and call it even- after all, you’re loyal and kind and gorgeous; what more could a guy ask for?” As he spoke, Rollo could feel Idia grinning into his neck, pink joining the arrangement of colours that illuminated the room.

“Indeed, it is not as though anyone else could ever be worthy of loving us- we who understand each other completely and utterly.” Rollo agreed, pride giving him a grin on his face and a warmth in his chest.

“Okay, listen, Sunflower, that’s a bit much-“

“Sunflower?” Interjected Rollo, pride overtaken by pleasant surprise. Normally it was he who made use of terms of endearment.

“Uh, shit, is that too cringey? I-I just thought… ya know, you call me by c-cutesy nicknames all that time, s-so it might be nice for me to-… you know what? Nevermind, what was I even thinking-“ Idia stammered, his fingers digging into Rollo’s flesh in anxiety.

“No, no… I like it. It’s very sweet” Rollo said as he leaned over and gave Idia a peck on the forehead. Immediately, he went red in the face, his hair gaining even more pink hues in embarrassment.

“… I used to dream about this.” Idia spoke as soon as he was capable of it, the pink in his hair only minutely diminished. “About being here with you, about h-having you in my arms… about having you in my bed.”

The moment Idia said the last portion, Rollo’s magic sparked in the air as his own face went red. The implications were crass! Scandalous, even! And yet, Rollo count not deny that he hadn’t thought of it, longed for it-

“Not in l-like a dirty way! Just… cuddling, I guess?”

…it seemed Rollo was the scandalous one, then. How perverse of him!

“Just… you remember back on vacation, right? When we… you know, shared a bed?” Idia continued, his voice lightly muffled by the fact that he still had his head in the crook of Rollo’s neck. “When I got back home… I missed it. I m-missed hugging you and cuddling you and just… touching you.”

“I… missed it too, Idia.” Rollo replied hesitantly. Though Idia’s words were those of praise, his mind could not stop recalling the guilt he had felt those times. “I have a… confession to make.”

“Mh?”

“When we were back in Fleur City… that was me. I was purposely touching you.” Rollo confessed, his heart heavy with shame and face red. He had no idea of how Idia might react to it; would he be angry? Upset? Betrayed? Rollo was, quite frankly, scared of telling him. And yet he was even more terrified of living his life, of loving Idia, and him never knowing. It would have eaten away at him, consumed him. Better for him to simply face the music.

“Oh good, that makes me feel a lot better about having enjoyed it then.” Replied Idia nonchalantly with a yawn. Completely uncaring of how much those words scared him, of how scared he was. It was… refreshing. How little it mattered to him… and if he had enjoyed it…

Finally, freed of the burden of his own guilt, he gave into the desire that had haunted him all these nights ago- Rollo placed a kiss on Idia’s forehead, and closed his eyes.

And it was bliss.

——ΤΕΛΙΚΟ ΣΕΙΡΑΣ: τριακοστό τρίτο επεισόδιο

Idia woke to warmth. It was steady and comforting like a campfire presumably was, chasing away the cold that lurked in his bones. Hell, his joints didn’t even feel that stiff for once! The entire bed felt similar, warmed by that presence as well.

Fucking awesome, Idia’s half-asleep mind decided, and he buried himself deeper into the blankets and closer to said warmth.

“…Beloved? Are you awake?” Said the warm thing, the tone equally warm and dulcet, smooth and soft spoken.

“Mh?” There were hands on his face- no, hands cupping his face. Gentle, warm hands. He liked that. With a soft, sleepy murmur, he nuzzled his face into the touch.

“Idia?” This time, there was warmth blowing on his face- air- a breath. Blearily, he opened his eyes.

Rollo’s brilliant green eyes stared back, his grey-white hair messed up from sleep. His pale eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, while his fringe fanned out on his forehead and the pillow, leaving Idia staring, completely entrapped by this SSR-tier beauty in front of him. His pale skin was slightly flushed, and he had a soft, endearing smile. He looked amazing.

This was amazing. Being able to wake up next to his boyfriend was amazing. Being able to have him in his bed, to love him, was amazing. Being able to just.. turn over and see him was amazing. To have a future with him was amazing.

“Rollo, you’re amazing.” Idia stated plainly, a sappy, goofy smile stretching his face. “I love you, so, so fucking much.“

“And I love you too, my dearest.” Answered Rollo with a chuckle before he ducked his head to plant a kiss on Idia’s forehead. With a grin of his own, Idia retaliated by smooching him on the lips. First blood- to him!

Clearly not one for rolling over and giving in, Rollo smiled as he pulled Idia in closer and returned the favour. Obviously, being a genius and all, Idia couldn’t afford to lose. Therefore, when their lips met, Idia gave a small kitten lick at the opening of Rollo’s mouth. Enthusiastically, but shyly, he wrapped his arms around Rollo’s shoulders as he deepened the kiss. It was… kinda scary to take initiative like that, but also super exciting. Seems like almost-kinda dying gave him a buff to his courage stat, because normally there’d be no way Idia could do something like that.

Sometime during Idia’s attempt to take some initiative for once, Rollo had stopped cupping his face between his hands and instead placed them on Idia’s hips. While Idia tried to get some more leverage by shifting his body forwards, Rollo made his move, gently lifting Idia on top of him, allowing him even more room to maneuver. A rookie mistake, letting Idia gain the advantage like that, because he immediately used his new position to push his lips apart, their kiss now totally open mouthed.

Tragically, good positioning and an early lead could only get you so far, especially if you had a glaring weak point like Idia did. Obviously, Rollo went for the damage multiplier that was running his fingers through Idia’s hair, setting the tips of his hand alight and softly brushing against the ends of Idia’s flames. The second he began his attack, Idia immediately gasped, moaning into Rollo’s mouth as his knees went weak.

There really was no good way to describe what it felt like. He’d asked the researchers what it felt like to have your hair touched, when he was a naive little kid who still thought that his hair was pretty cool. Before he realized what his flames meant, what his “blessing” of burning blot actually was. (A curse-) But no matter how they described it to him, he never quite got it. His flames had always had “substance” to a certain extent, but it’s not like he could ever feel anything except a dull pressure.

But when Rollo’s fire and his connected… it was just indescribable. But Idia’s a scientist at heart, always has been, always will be. Ergo, his mind couldn’t stop trying to find a way to properly use words to express how exactly that new sensation felt. It was like caffeine if it was also somehow a handwarmer. It was like someone injected molten lava right into his veins. It was like a star going supernova right in the middle in his chest. It was like someone had took ahold of his magic and yanked hard, hard, hard. It was like somebody just poured scalding hot coffee down his neck in the best kind of way. It chased away every chill, every stifling creak in his bones and left him feeling fired-up and mellowed out.

But mostly, it was really, really hot.

Within mere seconds, every modicum of control Idia previously had basically vanished. His body went nigh limp in Rollo’s arms, kissing him like it was a substitute for all the oxygen he needed, like as though the soft, wet heat of his mouth somehow contained the cheat code to the universe. Rollo kissed back with the same desperate energy, with all the enthusiasm of a final adrenaline rush. Despite their inexperience, both of them were levelling this skill uber-fast, quickly learning each other’s weak points and preferences.

Rollo continued to run his hands through Idia’s fire, working his way up from the ends to his scalp, and with each passing second, Idia could feel the size of their connected flames growing and growing. Whining, Idia pushed deeper into the kiss, writhing on Rollo like he was trying to get under his skin and live in his veins. In response, Rollo retaliated by yanking on Idia’s flames which-

“AhhhhhHHH…!~”

Oh gods oh fuck oh fucking godssssss, who the hell gave Rollo the right to make him feel so fucking goooooood-

Abandoning all previous pretences of dignity, Idia eagerly submitted to Rollo’s onslaught of gentle touches and forceful grabs. Between the stimulation of having his fire played with, the warm heat of their kiss, the furnace-like warmth of Rollo’s body and the lack of oxygen, Idia honestly felt like he was two seconds from passing the fuck out. The sheer, unbelievable pleasure Rollo had him feeling was just insane, almost unbearable, really.

Shamelessly, Idia moaned and gasped into their kiss, Rollo entwining his fingers deeper into their shared bonfire each time it happened, which in the span of less than a minute, became every other second. It was the most beautiful torture Idia could never hope to conceive of. Every fantasy, every dream he’s ever cultivated from games and manga could never, not in a million years, hope to live up to this.

Rollo sucked on his tongue in the same moment as he yanked on Idia’s curse (an absolutely brutal combo move! Ban it already! Too OP!) and Idia-

And Idia bit down on Rollo’s bottom lips until rivulets of blood begin trickling down, down, down, staining both of their lips. Rollo instantly moaned in response, his grasp on Idia’s hair going from gentle but forceful touches to full on grabbing and squeezing. On instinct, Idia tried to pull back, to get some distance, but Rollo wasn’t having any of it. The wound itself was swiftly cauterized, but as Rollo basically smashed their mouths together (which really had no reason to be sexy, none at all- there was no technique and it was kind of painful, but the mere idea of it, of Rollo being so desperate that he abandons all attempts at finesse, well, obviously it gets him hot and bothered-) Idia’s teeth snagged on the just-closed wound and tore it right open again, the pair’s shared movements tearing apart the skin there more and more, digging deeper and deeper into that so-warm flesh.

There was a part of Idia that wanted to run, the part that was disgusted by the metallic substance now staining his teeth- the part that was scared by Rollo’s passion and desire, for pain and pleasure both. The proper thing to do, the thing that’s “right”…

And yet-

The blood that coated the inside of his mouth was so very warm, so very wonderful-

So very alive.

Rollo, under him, pressing their bodies together, mewling encouragement every time that spot on his lip was torn open again, each time more jagged and messy than the last, felt so very alive.

The sheer heat that was running through his veins, the sparks that came with every touch and noise, the feeling of his heart beating so fast and loud that it thudded in his ears like a drum, it all felt so very alive.

He felt alive.

And it was intoxicating.

It was almost like Overblotting, but instead of cold, disgusting ink clinging to him and dragging him downwards, it was love and passion and a bonfire in his heart and so much affection it feels like he might explode. Idia’s not allowed booze, but surely, surely, this is what it’s like.

So it’s with reckless abandon and a “fuck it, we ball” attitude that Idia gave in and bit down hard on Rollo’s bottom lip, no longer just an accident, but instead something purposeful and deliberate. It’s gotta hurt, but Rollo apparently loves this kind of thing because he somehow ended up even more enthusiastic.

Honestly, it’s probably a red flag, but at this point, Idia would rather give a speech to a crowd of millions than give this all up.

Before either of them noticed, Idia’s hair was at least half a meter longer than normal and they were both mostly on fire. The air was filled with pleasure filled whimpers and cries, and the whole thing was getting pretty hot and heavy for early morning kisses.

It was with great disappointment that Idia had to lean back and catch his breath (curse you, limitations of the human body!) panting as he looked down at Rollo. His lover was red in the face, eyes half-lidded and pupils blown wide (not that Idia himself likely looked any better), his bruised lips coated in a delightfully deep rouge. As a finishing blow, the tunic he had been given (probably by the staff) was askew, slipping down one shoulder and showing off his beautiful, enticing collar bone and the elegant lines of his neck.

Before his mind could hope to catch up, he had already ducked down and planted a kiss on Rollo’s neck, just like how the man in question had done to him the last time they had made out like this. Idia’s not what most people think of when they think “aggressive”, especially not when it comes to relationships, but the moment he heard the sound Rollo made when he did that- all of his self-control instantly went out the window.

Without hesitation, he immediately began to pepper kisses on Rollo’s neck and clavicle, the skin there flushing red as his blush spread downwards. His body was so hot, almost feverish, so different from his own.

“Hm?”

Running his hands along the back of Rollo’s neck, Idia made an inquisitive expression. What the…? Oh right, peach fuzz. He forgot most people, normal people, had that. It felt soft, like the down on a baby bird. He could definitely see why it was called “peach fuzz”. All things considered, it was pretty cute, and touching felt kinda satisfying. So yes, Idia did end up distracted, too busy petting and touching Rollo’s neck in curiosity to notice him going on the attack.

It was swift and brutal, not allowing him even a moment’s notice to get his bearings, an absolutely OP move that instantly put Idia in a stun state. He, without pausing his relentless assault on Idia’s flames, moved forwards while Idia was AFK and kissed his neck. No, it wasn’t just a kiss- he sucked and licked and bit the skin there, and Idia could do nothing but let out a (frankly embarrassing) cry of pleasure. Totally unlike the chaste smooches Idia had done to Rollo, Rollo’s retaliation was all ecstasy, red-hot passion and lust, pain and love in a delicious, dangerous cocktail that he couldn’t help but swallow down without complaint.

“Oh, gods, Rollo!~” Idia gasped, breath hitching as Rollo sucked a hickey (!) into the pale flesh of his neck. Just as that wonderful agony ended, Rollo moved to another spot on his neck and resumed his attack again. Not to mention, he was still running his flaming hands through Idia’s hair, which was driving him fucking insane. One hand on the back of his neck, giving Rollo all the better access to the skin that served as his canvas, the other running through his hair, alternating between gentle strokes and amazingly harsh yanks. It felt good enough to be heaven and sinful enough to be hell- and Idia couldn’t get enough of it.

Without warning, Rollo lunged forwards, knocking Idia backwards onto the bed, effectively flipping them as Rollo pinned him down, still continuing his ministrations as he straddled Idia’s waist. There goes all of Idia’s effort to be on top- not that he minded when this was the result. Rollo’s lustful gaze as he looked down at him before resuming his process of covering Idia’s neck in hickies was totally intoxicating. Still, no matter how good it felt to just lay down and let Rollo have his way with him, he wanted to at least make his partner feel good too.

Thus, when Rollo finally leaned back to look at his handiwork, Idia made his move. He pounced, pressing a kiss to Rollo’s neck before mimicking the man’s own previous actions by sucking and licking the spot, Rollo giving a soft murmur of satisfaction in response. Nice, but not what he’s looking for. Hence why he bit down, teeth once again tearing lightly into flesh. You know, for a guy who’s not really a fan of raw meat, he sure was becoming intimately aquatinted with the taste of blood in his mouth. Now that’s what he wanted- Rollo’s breath hitching as he moans Idia’s name, the hand still in his hair pulling down hard enough to make Idia flinch, prompting him to bite down even harder out of instinct. Thankfully (or perhaps unfortunately) the fact that they’re both actively on fire at the moment means that the wound is almost instantly cauterized, leaving Idia to lap up the remaining blood.

The result left behind is a quickly darkening spot, a purple and deep red stain on the alabaster skin of Rollo’s neck. Yeah, no, he gets why Rollo was going crazy earlier- the sight of a lovebite, his lovebite, on his boyfriend’s neck was super, unfairly sexy. An almost electric spark shot through his veins at the sight of it, and well, he really couldn’t help himself.

Enthusiastically, he repeated the sequence lower, more loans and gasps of encouragement coming from Rollo, continuing onwards until he covered not only his neck, but the exposed part of his shoulder and clavicle to boot.

At some point, the pair had managed to wring out the last of their youthful energy from their bodies, leaving them pleasantly dazed in the bed, both of them looking thoroughly debauched. It was with shaky legs that Idia finally managed to stagger out of bed to the bathroom mirror, still panting from their… activities.

And wow, he had really underestimated how wrecked he looked. Idia’s pale skin was flushed a deep pink, his hair almost completely the same shade (which was still trailing down the the floor, that’s how fired up this had made him), pupils practically doubled in size from normal, sweat trailing down his skin, which was probably the most affected. Rollo had (somehow) managed to cover pretty much all of his visible skin in hickies, to the point where the bruised skin outnumbered the unblemished portions.

“What the fuck…?” Idia mumbled as he craned his neck in the mirror, trying to search for the few white spots amount the purple-blue bruises that had coloured his neck. Hell, there were even some on the underside of his jaw! “Oh gods, I’m not going to be able to hide all of these, am I?”

“My apologies, though I’d like to mention that you weren’t any more considerate.”

While Idia was busy inspecting the marks Rollo had left, the man himself had managed to sneak up on him.

He was right- Idia had definitely done a number on the guy. His fringe was plastered to his forehead from exertion, the tips of his ears still bright red, as were his cheeks. The worst was almost certainly all the hickies Idia had left in return, which while less in quantity, were still many. They climbed up his neck, down to his shoulders and clavicle, very much impossible to miss. The marks were much deeper than the ones Rollo had left on him (probably because of how hard he had bit him, which really wasn’t his fault, not with the way Rollo had been moaning and begging for it-), blood stains peppering the bruised flesh.

Well, so much for stealth.

“… we look like a pair of harlots.” Rollo remarked with a scowl, green eyes narrowed.

“Seriously? We didn’t even have s-sex or anything?! How the hell can you say we look people who do, you know, t-that?!” Protested Idia, snarking back at him.

“It was but a mere jest, dearest.” Rollo replied, gently tucking a “strand” of Idia’s flames behind his ear.

“Whatever you say, Sunflower~” Idia teased as he garnered his courage and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. Rollo gave a gentle, content smile in return, starkly contrasting the pair’s rakish looking states.

Idia wants nothing more than this- not just once, but over and over again for the rest of their lives. It’s greedy, so greedy, but he can’t help it. He wants for them to wake up day after day like this, with each other at their sides. For Rollo to be his player two forever.

But he knows it’s not possible- Rollo can’t spend every day with him. There will be separations and departing and dreaded goodbyes that make his hair flare an angry red. It was simply how it was. It doesn’t mean that they’re doomed, but it does mean that Idia’ll have to wait.

And, well, listen, Idia knows what others think of him. Knows that they look at him and think lazy (he prefers “efficient”, thank you very much). It doesn’t hurt him, not when he’s so much more productive than any of those normies could ever hope to be, but he knows what they believe him capable of. Knows that they didn’t think he’s capable of this- of waiting, of yearning, of playing the long game.

But before Idia is an inventor, before he is a programmer, before he is Idia- he is a Shroud. He might battle it out for the chance to be the first to get at merch or to buy a new, long awaited game, be he can be patient when he wants to be. (And there is nothing more patient than death-) But when he wants to, when he truly wants to, he is patient. He waits, and waits, and waits. Sure, it’s helpful in some of his otaku hobbies, but it’s not the reason he’s like that. No, the answer to that question is much, much older.

So if he has to wait, has to yearn, has to be patient for this, for this feeling, for Rollo-

There is no one better at waiting than a Shroud.

And Rollo is his.

…which is all well and good and shit, but it doesn’t really solve the problem at hand.

“Gods, how am I going to look my brother in the face… or my subordinates for that matter!” Idia despaired. Fuuuuck, he did not think this through. If (when) he walks out that door, everyone who looks at him (or Rollo for that matter) will know what they did together. Gods, that’s so embarrassing!

Even if both their outfits have high collars, Idia literally had hickies on the underside of his jaw- there was nothing in his closet that could hide that.

“You know what, let’s just… not leave the room today. W-we can leave the Isle tomorrow or something, it’s not like we’re in a rush or anything…!” Idia rambled in anxiety, already dreading the looks he knew he’d get if he left looking like this. Just thinking about it made Idia want to curl up into a ball and just die.

“…well, I can’t find any issue with that. I concur.” Rollo agreed, surprisingly complaint. Which, hell no, why is notoriously stubborn and impossible to win against Rollo just agreeing with him?!

“What’s the catch?” Idia said, squinting as he tried to figure out Rollo’s angle. There must be something-

“Ah!~”

…seriously? That just had a super hot and spicy make out session, and Rollo’s already pawing at him again for a round two. And by pawing, he meant pressing wet kisses on his nape while he wrapped his arms around Idia’s waist.

“…not sure how you intend to do this considering I have so many bruises I make a blueberry look pale.” Idia spoke as he rolled his eyes, still letting Rollo press kisses to his (very much sore) neck.

“Then I suppose I need to expand the available surface area~” Is all the warning he got before Rollo’s tugging at the hem of Idia tunic, slowly, almost torturously so, lifting it higher and higher. Idia can see himself somehow managing to flush even deeper in the mirror, sparks flying off of him, and yet he does nothing to stop him.

He probably should- the responsible thing, the right thing, would be to stop him now, to freshen up and face the music.

But the thing about long-distance relationships is how rare the opportunity for physical intimacy is- if he doesn’t take full advantage of it now, who the hell knows when he’ll get another chance? Besides, he’s been plenty responsible, cleaning up the mess he and Ortho made of S.T.Y.X. working hard into the night at the beck and call of his employees- he deserves this.

So he doesn’t stop Rollo from rolling the hem of his tunic up and up, exposing first his stomach, then the jutting of his ribs, before the garment is finally removed. It was definitely embarrassing to see himself naked from the top up in the mirror, but he swiftly ends up distracted by the presence of Rollo’s light touches and taps on his torso, just barely enough pressure to be noticeable.

“Y-you fucking horndog…” Idia chastised sarcastically, leaning into every touch that danced on his skin, his expression a mix between a smirk and a glare. Rollo only laughed in response, brushing his long, elegant fingers over Idia’s chest. Shameless bastard.

Turning his head (and boy fucking howdy is that uncomfortable-), Idia managed to press a kiss to Rollo’s cheek, despite the fact that the man was standing behind him.

When Rollo leads him back to the bed, Idia gives an indulgent smile before kissing him, chaste as can be, on the lips. Shy and gentle.

Nothing lasts forever, but maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t need to. Maybe the knowledge that yes, this isn’t goodbye, it’s just “see you later”, is enough.

Because when Idia sees Rollo off, watches him step down from the threshold of the vehicle S.T.Y.X. provided to return him to Noble Bell College, watches him walk back to the school, it’s not the end. He’ll toy with the ring on his finger, and when he’s back at the Ignihyde dorms, he’ll shoot him a text, and when he slacks off during class, he’ll think of all the places they can go and all the things they’ll do when they see each other again.

Because this isn’t like before. Because leaving the Isle no longer means the erasure of memories. Because he promised Rollo that he’d see him again. Because they have a whole future stretching out in front of them, full of infinite possibilities. Because Idia wants to experience each and every one of those possibilities with Rollo.

But Idia kisses Rollo, and none of that matters.

Because here and now, they are together. They are alive, hearts beating, fire burning, skin touching skin, sparks flying.

And as far as Idia’s concerned, that’s the greatest thing in the world.

Notes:

What happened next?

Malleus, overblotting and attempting to put the world into eternal slumber:

Rollo: I FUCKING CALLED IT *cocks magic shotgun* WHICH ONE OF US KNEW THAT THIS MF WAS GONNA GO NUTS LIKE THIS? ME, MF, I DID. AND DID Y’ALL LISTEN? NOOOOO YOU DIDN’T

On a more broad scale, if I were to imagine what happens after this fic…

Idia and Rollo continue their long distance relationship, and for Idia’s fourth year internship, he interns in Fleur City with the city council to help modernize the infrastructure, just like he had discussed with Rollo. (I headcanon that NBC doesn’t do internships like NRC does, so Rollo’s still in school). His parents eventually find out about his relationship with Rollo, and decide as part of Styx’s efforts to be more open and transparent, have him be an “ambassador” for the Isle of Woe in the city. (Which, yes, is actually an important job, but Idia’s parents definitely just put him there so he could stay with his bf~). Once the pair become older, Rollo decides to work for Styx to help educate people about the dangers of magic and increase the safety regulations surrounding its use. The pair marry, and split their time between Fleur City and the Isle of Woe.

As for Ortho…

He does his first year at NRC, but decides to participate in a transfer program with Fleur City in his second year, essentially attending NBC with his friends. They all remain very close :D

Notes:

First off, I want to thank everyone who read this and enjoyed it- while this was originally written for me and me alone, it makes me so happy to see other people liking it too!

This fic has been a wild, wild ride, and I’m so happy I got to enjoy it with everyone here!

:D