Hello and good day! I'm opening art (illustration) and writing commission!
PLEASE FAMILIARIZE YOURSELF WITH MY TERMS OF SERVICE PRIOR TO ORDERING A COMMISSION.
My specialties: Banters, fluff, harems (reverse harem and M/M and F/F included), writing in present tense (past tense OK), surrealism (usually has violence and gore)
More details and samples here
She belatedly notices the absence of her lover next to her. The full-size bed is way too empty and big with only one person on it. Just what is that man doing so early in the morning?
Just then, the door creaks open. The one she just thought of - Enciodas - steps in, his eyes flicker the moment they make eye contact. He chuckles softly, as though her figure wrapped in a thick blanket is funny.
"Good morning, Hana. I'm surprised you're already awake," he says while stepping closer. He sits on the other side of the bed, a gentle smile colored his face as he brushes the girl's bangs, his fingertips caressing her skin.
"I'm as surprised as you are. Uwah, your fingers are cold," she whimpers, but doesn't make an effort to avoid his touch. Glancing at him, she asks, "Where did you go?"
"I took Tenzin out for a walk for a bit. It's a wonderful morning."
"What is he, a dog?" She chuckles at the weird reply before her expression turns sour. "What kind of great morning it is when I'm freezing over here?"
"Your race isn't good with cold temperature, that is all. This is warmer than usual for me."
"Really? I don't want to imagine how cold it usually is…" She sighs, pulling the blanket up to cover her mouth. "I'm not compatible with this place at all. I just want to bury myself in this blanket forever."
"I'll make a hot drink for you, then. Hopefully it'll make you feel better."
When he stands up, she hurriedly pulls his tail before he can leave. "Wait."
"Don't pull my tail."
"Don't go." Acting as though she can't hear him, she gives his tail another intense shake that almost yanks him back to the bed. "I don't want a drink right now. What I want is for you to be here."
His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, cheeks turning slightly red, before he shrugs with an exasperated smile. His tail moves to give her a good, soft smack on the face. "I should've seen that coming."
She lets softness of fur strokes her cheeks as she begrudgingly replies, "Yes, you should. I'm disappointed you didn't get it. What else do I want right now?"
"My deepest apologies, my dear."
Enciodas climbs back to the bed, with Hana welcoming him into the blanket. Before he can hug her, she already slams herself into his embrace, as if she's been missing it for so long - even though they've done it just last night. That's how much she seeks for other's warmth right now, acting like a spoiled child - but he doesn't mind to pamper her, as he too, wishes for this. Perhaps it's the best way to spend the listless, icy mornings.
Clinging to him and burying herself on his chest, she can feel his body heat slowly but surely enveloping her. The sensation puts her heart at ease. "Ahh…your fingers are cold, but your body is warm. It's nice."
"I see." With his tail wrapping around her body, he lightly kisses her forehead when his fingers run through her yellow locks and breathes in the fragrance of sweet flowers. As always, her natural scent is soothing and refreshing, far better than anything else he knows. "At times, I wonder how you're so sensitive to cold, when your hair is so long."
"You said it before. It's just my race." The tone of her voice makes it clear that she's sulking. "Unfortunately, my hair only warms me up a bit. It can barely be a scarf. But I think it's a good thing, because you can warm me up like this. Don't you agree?"
When Flamebringer opens his eyes, he's greeted by the overwhelmingly bright light from the sun. It takes a few seconds for his senses to come back and for him to register his surroundings. He can see the clear blue skies and his nose catches the familiar scent of flowers.
"Oh, are you awake?"
Along with that voice, he can see Dr. Hana's face up and close, looming above him. From this angle and the softness of where his head is resting, he can only take one conclusion.
"Why am I on your lap?"
"That's the first thing you ask? Wow." She sighs as she gently strokes his head, brushing his hair with her fingers. The touch is unfamiliar and a bit unwelcomed, but he has no energy to shake her off. "Don't you remember? You protected me and got knocked out as a result."
With these words, the memories of what transpired comes back to him at once. He can only let out a sigh. No wonder his entire body is aching.
She giggles."I can't believe you protected me. I have bodyguards, you know? There's no need to do that."
"I can't believe it, either." Just what was he thinking? It seems like an action without a thought. The moment he saw her in danger, his body just moved before he knew it. Now knowing how rash and stupid he was, he can feel embarassment rising up. That was so unlike him.
"But I appreciate it. And besides, I'm grateful to be granted the rare opportunity to see you like this."
"I'm not grateful at all." After clicking his tongue, with his arms supporting him, he tries to get up, but it's soon proven to be an arduous task. His aching body is terribly weak right now, even moving a bit is a challenge.
"Ah, don't force yourself to move yet!" She immediately reaches out to support him. "You got first aid treatment already, but you're still far from being healed. The medics went for those with worse injuries first, that's why you're here with me for now. Just so you know, you'd be in a worse condition if Phantom didn't help you."
Phantom? Ah, that guy who always follows her around. Resigning to his fate, he reluctantly flops back to the girl's lap. "And what did you do?"
"I evacuated your swords while others dragged you to safety. They're quite heavy, so you better be grateful. And of course, I'm here to give you some mental healing." She winks, much to his chagrin.
He glances at his swords neatly lying next to him. As someone who plays with knives everyday, she must've known how to properly take care of swords, at the very least. "You're making my injuries worse."
"Come on, don't say that. My lap is a great pillow, no? It's a special service not many have the privilege to feel."
He rolls his eyes and gives an indifferent reply. "Yeah, sure." He wonders when the medics are going to come back and get him out of her grasp - he wants to get away from her as soon as possible. He isn't in the mood to deal with her right now.
After a while of silently caressing his head, she says, "Hey, Flamebringer."
"What?"
"You know, I'd be troubled if you died too soon. I won't lecture you for not cooperating with treatment to a certain degree, but I wish you'd be more careful on the battlefield. I'm sure you don't need to hear this, but I want to say it as a reminder. You're usually not too reckless, but today proves even you can make mistakes. Ah, of course, you're free to ignore this."
If it were any other person who said it, he'd immediately dismiss it without much thought. While she is the last person he wants to hear such words from, something piques his interest. "Why would you be troubled if I die?"
"Well…why did you protect me?"
Flamebringer twirls his finger around her yellow strands, thinking back on what he saw to trigger his action. At that moment, she reminded him of the flowers he is taking care of. Fragile and ephemeral. It feels as though they'll wither when he looks away for a second. Even knowing the danger she was in, she simply stood still, looking at the sword being swung at her with an uncanny composure and smile. Is it because she's confident, with utmost certainty, that someone will protect her?
Sure, knowing how confident she usually is and how strong her bodyguards are, that's a real possibility many people will think of. However, he thinks otherwise. There's no way a strategist like her she doesn't consider the worst case scenario. That was too reckless. In his eyes, she's playing with fire, gambling with her own life at stake. Whatever the result is, she'll accept it. Now he understands, her true self is just that kind of person, always carrying herself to the extreme, even more so to stand on the thin line between life and death.
Does she really want to die, or is that her way to feel alive? Or, was she testing him to see whether he'll protect her or not? He doesn't know and he may never know. It hurts his head just thinking about it.
He can only let out a groan. "Don't take your life too lightly. I'd be troubled if you died too soon."
"Don't worry, I'm not a reckless idiot. I know very well I can't die yet. Why would you be troubled, though? Do you care that much about me? That'd be a big surprise."
He pulls her hair, dragging her head closer. Her ignorant act gets on his nerves sometimes. "You already know the answer. Both of us want something from each other, don't we? Isn't that enough reason?"
Dr. Hana's smile stretches wider. Without saying anything else, she nods.
That said, Chougi couldn’t leave the kid alone, either, especially not when Kunihiro tripped over nothing when he was chasing Chougi, “You’re really clumsy, aren’t you?” He said as helped Kunihiro to get up, holding his tiny hand that didn’t feel like human skin. Just then he realized how small and fragile he was, far too light for a human around his size. His form swayed like bubbles, the bits and pieces vanishing into thin air. It seemed like he could disappear at any moment.
After standing up, Kunihiro patted his messy clothes and looked embarrassed, his head hanging low. Chougi could somehow tell by instincts alone, it was astonishing. Was it because he is the original that he had connection with him, or was it because he was getting used to him? He didn’t know the reason and he might never know. Regardless of the answer, the possibility that he had a connection with the boy undoubtedly brought him joy, although he’d refuse to admit it out loud.
Kunihiro bowed deeply in front of him, wordlessly saying that he was sorry for bothering Chougi. He bowed and bowed, asking for forgiveness. It was just a polite gesture taught by Kousetsu, and perhaps he didn’t feel pain at all, but a part of Chougi couldn’t help but to register it as a show of their distance. A long gap between them. How could he close that gap? How could he take Kunihiro’s hand and stand next to him like Kousetsu did?
While all sorts of thoughts swirled around his mind, his hand reached for Kunihiro’s head and gently patted him. It was an action directed purely by impulse. He gasped when he realized what he had done and immediately retracted his hand, but it was too late. Kunihiro was frozen for a while, stuck in a bowing position, before his small hand slowly touched his head, as if trying to ascertain whether what happened was real or not. When he raised his head, Chougi could only stare at him in amazement.
Kunihiro, whose face was supposed to be pure white with no taint, all of sudden had a slit on his face. It was a mouth, gaping open, with his cheeks colored in red. His white form swayed with the wind and hair strands grew from the side of his head, into the whiteness of his body, making his white silhouette more humanly. His silhouette, at a glance, looked similar to Chougi’s. It was not a surprise; Kuniniro is Chougi’s replica, after all. It’s a given he’d look similar to the original.
Still, for him to suddenly grow a mouth and hair were surprising. He really was...weird and otherworldly, that’s the only way Chougi could describe him. He didn’t know how to react to this magic show. Kunihiro, oblivious to his feelings, shot him a wide smile befitting a child’s. Even though he had no eyes, his smile, along with his red cheeks, made him look adorable. Children are scary, Chougi thought as the impulse to pat him again brought his hand to fulfill it. Kunihiro smiled, seemingly enjoying his touch. His hand didn’t feel like skin, but his head and hair felt like the real thing. A sign that, despite the differences right now, he does have a human body.
“Ah...um...”
A quivering, small, and childish voice called out.
Chougi’s eyes snapped wide open. He kneeled down, realizing that it was Kunihiro’s voice. The first time he let out his voice – an important moment in history.
“What is it?” He asked the boy, unable to hide the excitement from his voice.
“Ah...” Kunihiro reached out to him, his hand flailing around like a baby that moved for the first time. “Hon...ka?”
It felt like thunder just hit Chougi. Putting aside how the boy learned how to speak right off the bat, Chougi was overjoyed that Kunihiro’s first word was his name. He’s like a parent being happy that his son called his name first. It was a weird, inexplicable feeling, but definitely enjoyable. He couldn’t even erase the smile on his face.
“Hon...ka. Honka...?”
Chougi didn’t know how to react. His body simply moved to hold the child’s white, small hands as he stared into his face. “Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”
It seemed like flowers bloomed around Kunihiro as his lips formed a wide smile. Chougi wondered just how blinding his smiling face would be when his eyes appear – it’s already blinding and heart-stabbing without them. Children are way too scary, he thought.
It would be hard for him to leave Kunihiro now, so he tagged along the kid and sat on the porch.
“Are you not going to play in the garden today?” He asked when the replica kept clinging to him. “Or go to Kousetsu. He’ll be happy to know that you can talk now.”
The child shook his head. “I want to be with Honka now.”
His innocent and straightforward reply took Chougi off guard – it felt like he was about to burst. Even though it must be boring to just sit around doing nothing like this, Kunihiro seemed to enjoy it. “I-Is that so.”
Is this how being a parent feels? He wondered.
“Honka, can I sit on your lap?”
“Sure.”
How polite of him to ask first. Kousetsu raised him well. Kunihiro smiled as he climbed on Chougi’s lap, settling his small body there. It was a bit ticklish for the unaccustomed Chougi, but the warmth of the kid’s body soon comforted him. It wasn’t unpleasant at all. Kunihiro swayed his legs as he watched the scenery and Chougi brushed his hair with his fingers.
It was so peaceful that, one way or another, Kunihiro ended up sleeping on his lap.
When Kousetsu approached, Chougi tried to be calm and lied, only to be responded by a chuckle from the tachi. “I’ve been watching the two of you. I’m glad you get along now.”
Chougi’s face burned. He never felt like he wanted to stab himself as much as he did that day.
// 86 \\
“I hate you, Fake-kun.”
Kunihiro, with a red tracksuit and a clean cloak, the hood not covering his handsome face, nods. “I know.” He grabs a cup of tea and takes a sip, his style is not elegant, but not too bad either. “Though...I’m wondering, why are you having tea and snacks with me, then?”
Chougi takes a cookie from the plate and bites it, the sweetness of chocolate chips and crunchy cookie filling his mouth. “That doesn’t matter. You didn’t make the cookies, anyway.”
“I guess that’s true.”
The two swords with the same name are sitting side-by-side. Unexpectedly, the distance between them is normal, with two cups of steaming tea and two plates of cookies between them. Chougi averts his eyes from Kunihiro, only seeing the plate, the cup, or the scenery in front of him. The garden is filled with beautiful flowers and trees, rustling as the cold wind blows. The sky is utterly black, with only a moon with a spiral on its center hanging overhead. The darkness seems like it can move and spread to swallow everything at any time.
“Ah. Chougi, there’s something in your tea.”
“What?!” He hisses, turning his eyes to his cup on the floor. Sure enough, in the dark-colored bitter green tea, there’s a small creature floating, only moving with the wavering surface. It has beautiful wings he wants to snap. “...A butterfly?”
“Looks like a moth to me.”
He wonders where it came from as he takes the cup and pours the contents on the muddy ground. The mud takes it in delight, devouring the dead moth – or so it should be, but the moth flies away before the mud can. It’s alive, after all. He throws the cup, giving it to the hungry mud. “Now I can’t drink from that cup anymore.”
“Want to use mine, then?”
Kunihiro tugs at his sleeves, so Chougi looks at him in annoyance. Kunihiro is missing a head, the mark shows it was cut off so cleanly, but his voice is as clear as the moth flying around them. White, small things are wriggling on the hole on his neck, looking like disgusting larvae. Chougi wonders what they are as he takes Kunihiro’s cup without much thought, then realizes they’re moths as one flies to freedom, and others follow. His eyes are glued to the scene, so he doesn’t pay attention to the tea he’s drinking, and coughs when he feels a foreign object in his mouth. Big and round, it has a weird taste.
Taking it out to his palm, he finds a turquoise eyeball, staring at him blankly. Nausea rises to his stomach. His hand automatically throws the cup and the eyeball. The ceramic cup breaks into pieces. The mud refuses to eat them, as though they’re disgusting and horrible.
“You don’t want to drink tea anymore?”
He looks at the speaker, none other than Kunihiro, looking at him in confusion, his blond hair swaying, with his turquoise eyes wide open. The moths have all died, lying on the rotten wooden floor, showing a scene of massacre he has seen before. Chougi stands up, shrugging his shoulders.
“I don’t need it anymore.”
“Just like how you don’t need me anymore? You’re a terrible liar.”
Hearing the last words not in Kunihiro’s voice, he turns to see a figure completely identical to him, with silver eyes and cold blue eyes – and yet, he’s wearing Kunihiro’s red tracksuit, replacing his spot. The other him smiles as he bites a cookie.
“You are a liar. Liar. Terrible liar. Telling me to go disappear all the time...”
It’s none other than Chougi’s own voice. Elegant and childish at the same time, it’s revolting to hear even from himself. The voice echoes as many other Chougi emerge from the mud.
“Liar. Liar. You don’t need me anymore? Then go die.”
The voice keeps on echoing eerily in the dark night.
Chougi covers his ears with his hands, trying to ignore the voices that resound in his mind as he looks around. “Kunihiro...where are you?”
// 88 \\
“I hate you, Fake-kun.”
Chougi says as he crushes a moth in his hand, snapping its wings, killing it. Taking a lowly life feels like nothing for him. He stares at the corpse on his feet. Kunihiro is lying down on the thick snow, his cloak spreads out, his stomach ripped open, organs and dry blood scattered through the snow. The eyes are staring at Chougi with many emotions, making him uncomfortable.
He kneels down, takes out a knife and gouges out one of his turquoise eyeballs. He stares at the beautiful color, seeing his own bloody reflection before swallowing it, biting down the soft, jelly-like organ. It tastes weird, and he can feel something wriggling around inside his body the moment the eyeball enters his throat. It seems the eyeball is moving on its own.
“...You are just a parasite, after all.”
Even after death, he haunts him, corroding his insides, wanting to take him down.
Chougi looks down on the corpse missing an eye, a state suitable for a parasite. A bird comes and takes out some of his flesh, eating it in delight. Chougi feels his stomach, filled with disgusting insects, twist. It’s as though they will rip his stomach open. His knees give out, collapsing on the snow colored in red. The snow is no longer pure and white.
No longer beautiful, just like Kunihiro.
His Kunihiro is no longer here.
“Ahhh....aaaah....!”
He hates him. He hates Kunihiro. He wants to kill him. But having his corpse in front of him is unbearable. The parasites inside his body are still eating him, not stopping in he slightest, instead speeding up the process towards destruction. He feels so sick, every fiber of his body is falling apart. He wants to cling onto something and feel warmth in the middle of this terrible snowstorm.
As though being urged by an invisible force, he throws up, but what comes out is a transparent liquid and a pile of wriggling worms. Black shadows appear on his blurring eyesight. His mind and heart are racing. He realizes he’ll be blind soon enough and die all alone, buried in snow, forgotten by the world, leaving behind nothing but a small piece of history.
“No...noo...!! Kunihiro...!”
The frozen lake cracks and he falls into the abyss, enveloped in silence. All alone, this is certainly his fate. The lake is cold and dark, just like him. Black hands stretch out from the unseen bottom, pulling him deeper, not letting him escape. As he drowns, he can see lights of turquoise flashing, until the shapes become clear in the darkness.
Countless eyes with various sizes are staring at him. All of them express emotions he can’t quite comprehend in the same turquoise color he loves and hates at the same time.
“Kuni...hiro...”
His hand meekly extends to the walls and ceiling of eyes that look down upon him. It is clear he can never reach them, yet he still stretches out as tears fall down from his blackening eyes.
