Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cale had never shown much interest in anything other than his peaceful life, which had been a constant for two bodies now, yet that didn't mean he wasn't physically active.

The thing was, he had never learned how to let loose with anyone other than Lee Soo Hyuk, Choi Jung Soo or Grandma Kim, not even his new family. Not because he didn't love them or anything similar, it was just something that seemed wrong to him, that went against everything that had kept him going for decades, that had given him a place in the world.

Perhaps what had rooted that attitude in him the most was the death of both of them, he didn't remember allowing himself to be himself outside of his home since then, and it had been a long time since he'd been away from his home.

So, realizing that he'd started to let loose when he was alone had completely terrified him, enough to hide in a random closet in the villa and put into practice some old breathing exercises that his Team Leader had so kindly taught him shortly after they'd met.

But he knew he was doomed when it started. He knew it by the way he swayed from side to side when he stood in the room; he knew it by the way his legs crossed when he sat; the way he had gone back to stimming with his hands without fear of someone entering the room unexpectedly, closing and opening his hands, repeatedly touching different surfaces as he felt the surge of energy rush through his body, wiggling his toes with joy as he thought about the little things in the day that had given him a reason to smile. (Smile as in, looking stone-faced while his eyes shone like those of a little kid.)

But it wasn't all good, he had also noticed his anxiety growing in a horrible, hypervigilant way at the thought of someone seeing him being a little silly, someone noticing how his productivity had decreased and how he was finding it harder and harder to perform simple tasks or stay focused on boring things, even though Record was helping him cover up those shortcomings of his, it was just a matter of time.

And maybe it was that "matter of time" that had led him to where he was now, kneeling by the bathtub, forcing himself to breathe to get that ball down his throat that warns him of possible vomit on the way, desperately trying to get his body to obey him and stop clinging as if its life depended on it to the marble (even though he felt like his life depended on it).

The support he got from the Ancient Powers helped him a little, but it also made him feel overwhelmed, it was all just too much, impossibly much.

In fact, it was so strong that he hadn't noticed when the tears had started to run down his cheeks and his voice had left him, the latter being the thing that added to his stress the most, because if he couldn't talk, he couldn't pretend that everything was fine. No, even he wasn't stupid enough to fool himself into thinking he could do anything in this situation.

If life had taught him anything, it was that he could keep under control his impulse to move, move, move, move, move, leave his own skin, jump all over the room, scream and clap his hands, smile and imitate sounds like a child, put aside vegetables and live on sweet things; but he could never overcome neither his panic... nor the mutism that came in the worst cases.

A knock on the door almost knocked him over as well, his fist went straight to hit his forehead repeatedly before he could control himself. Without giving him time to do anything, the floor itself swallowed him up, probably a response to the magic system he had implemented to his stress, and dropped him in the same room where the closet he had hidden the first time was. He didn't think about it as he almost ran to the closet to hide again, letting his thoughts repeat irrepressibly I ruined it, ruined it, ruined it.

—Cale, it's all right. Breathe, okay? Can you do that for us, honey?

Heart Vitality took the lead in guiding the redhead through his tribulation, Cale responded by trying, only to have a sob scare him so much that he covered his mouth and pressed his back even tighter against the closet wall.

—No, no, no, no, no, it's okay, no one hears you here. The wind makes sure of it, I promise.

Thief continued, trying to speak in whispers, though that didn't have much effect, as they were still in Henituse's head and it mattered little what volume she used.

It seemed to work, at least long enough for the man to try to take a breath again, shorter and more agitated, but air nonetheless.

—All right, kid, keep it up, you're doing great.

Although Crybaby's tone was affected by the suddenness of the situation, he did what he could to contribute to help, following the examples that a very embarrassed Cale had given them shortly after his problems had begun to manifest themselves.

Super Rock said nothing on his part, trying to remember whether or not they had closed the corridors leading to that room. Although the village was big enough to make searching for the nobleman difficult, that didn't mean it was impossible, especially if they went out of their way to look for him thinking that something bad had happened to him... not that that was a lie.

But, Cale didn't need all that overwhelming attention on him at that moment.

—Why don't you try swinging a little, wouldn't that help?

Glotona tried to get out the best big sister tone she could, even if she was not sure she was doing it right.

A few sways passed, mere cheap imitations, short and stilted compared to what the man usually did when he was relaxed before a single word came out of his mouth, a weak “Yes” that earned him what seemed like hundreds of compliments from the Ancient Powers.

None of them could say how long it's been, but even Crazy Kid realized that the time had come to put that matter on the table, and while she was not the one who wanted to deliver the bad news when Cale had just calmed down, she also knew that the longer they put it off, the worse it would be for the human.

—I don't want to ruin the party, but you all remember we have to fight the shit at some point, don't you?

The red-haired man shuffled his feet on the floor as he rolled his shoulders to rattle his back sharply, an obvious sign that he didn't like the idea, still feeling his throat close at the mere thought of having to talk to his family about his sudden disappearance.

—We know you don't like the idea, honey, but you also know it's going to get worse the longer we're gone.

Heart Vitality made sure to speak in plural as much as she could, trying to remind Cale that, although not physically, they would be by his side at all times.

“Know,” the word was barely a slurred whisper, the tension palpable in every lyric.

—I think we can stay a little longer, but just a little while, we'll figure something out in the meantime. Leave the trouble to your big siblings!

Cheapskate tries to sound cheerful and a little joking, though one could sense the nervousness in the way his voice rises almost forcibly in the last sentence.

That time, the Henituse said nothing, allowing himself to gently but quickly slap his thighs in an attempt to shake off that anxious energy revolting under his skin. He himself, however, tried to contribute a little to the situation, replaying his favourite memories on a loop while he waited for the Ancient Powers to tell him what to do.

One.

Two.

Probably three minutes later Super Rock decided to be the one to present their little idea, silly by all accounts but the only one that seemed viable.

—How about going back to the room through tunnels and throwing yourself to sleep? Sleep would help you calm down and give you enough time for us to think of an excuse. It doesn't even have to be your room.

The nobleman liked the idea more than he'd ever admit, it didn't involve dealing with anyone who would end up making him shed tears and it was one of his favourite activities in the world.

“Where?”

—Second floor? Hardly anything there yet.

That... Yes, that sounded like a good idea, even if someone doubted his words he could certainly have enough time to come up with a better excuse, or he could always become so stubborn as to deny reality.

“'lright,” his words are still soft but no longer wobbly, something that comforted both, him and those with whom he shared a mind.

That time it took him a bit more time and effort, as determined as he was to conjure what little mana he had in his possession, his mind kept trying to wander in several different directions at the same time, even when the previous event drained him of much of his general energy, but in the long run he can manage it.

There was a moment in the room where his panic seemed to try to return, not with the intensity it had before, yet enough to make him twist his fingers with a quickness that was only reserved for moments of extreme joy or anxiety.

Once lying in bed, he did what he could to fall asleep: he took the pillow between his arms and semi-buried his face in it, forcing his lungs to breathe slower, inhaling until he felt full and exhaling until he was empty. He turned a little to put his back towards the door and tried to get his body to relax because as it was, he wouldn't pass for someone asleep by a long shot.

In truth, all he wanted was to hide under the bed and disappear until his brain calmed down, his heart stopped beating frantically, and he didn't feel something prickling his insides at the thought of anyone seeing him in that state. (Could he hide under the bed, please?)

Finally, listening to the old lullabies the Powers hummed in his mind, his body relaxed and he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

The first thing the nobleman noticed once he woke up was a familiar weight over him, as well as a warmth that wasn’t his, which spread around his body like a hug. The second thing was that, at some point, he changed positions in his sleep and was now facing the half-open door, not to his entire surprise.

It didn’t take long for his brain to catch up with what was going on, noticing how the room was darker and a small breath over his ribs tickling Cale. He looked down, it was Ohn, in her cat form, sleeping.

(Maybe he should follow her example, it’d save him from many troubles, even if it’d only change them for others.)

Anyway, that meant that the rest of the weight and warmth from his other side came from the other kids.

The realisation helped him relax unconsciously, making him also realise that he didn’t even notice when he tensed up.

Not a long time passed before the Ancient Powers showed up again, Glutton was the one who took the initiative to start the conversation:

—Cale, how are you feeling?

How did he feel… not bad, he didn’t feel good or bad, he could at least say with confidence that he wouldn’t break up crying if he had the smallest interaction with another human being.

The old priestess seemed to be happy with his answer. Her tone was even more cheerful when she spoke again.

—That's great, Cale!

A few seconds passed in silence before Super Rock took the word.

—About the excuse, we couldn't think of anything very convincing, we think the best thing to do is to evade explanations if no one asks and pretend you just wanted to sleep in the room. Simple but direct, what do you think?

The redhead allowed the idea to go through all the processes in his brain, from becoming an imaginary scenario to the part where the thoughts turned into emotions. It wasn’t bad, it sounded like him.

That night, Vicross’ dinner had a vomitive flavour. Cale had to use all the strength of will he had left to tolerate the screaming from everyone else, something inevitable with so many people at the same table. His face didn’t betray his feelings, it remained stone-like, and not a single sound came out of his mouth.

The Ancient Powers, of course, were not happy with that.

—You know he won't get mad if you ask him for something else, don't you?

But dinner had been served, and he didn’t have the energy left to complain, so he pretended not to have heard them.

He kept eating, forcing the food down his throat, and ignoring the side-eye he got now and then.

His body felt rigid when he chewed, but the fact that the original Cale didn’t have a lot of sense of taste helped him a little.

The days that followed a crisis were never easy. Nerves on edge, mind way too tangled to formulate a proper thought, an ansty body that couldn’t stay still, and, sometimes, his emotions seemed to have left him behind, leaving only fear and anger with him.

It was easy to deal with that in the apocalypse, hiding in his house while letting paperwork pill up until he felt like a human being again. Going out only for missions and emergencies, where a certain level of coldness was expected from all the presents.

But that was in the past, in this world things were harder to hide.

War had just ended a few weeks ago, it was still present and everyone was, one way or another, sort of waiting for the next shoe to drop. They were alert, nightmares filled their dreams and more than once one of them woke up blowing up a wall, or transformed or screaming, thinking an enemy infiltrated the villa, in their home, or their family was under attack, or they were still in the battlefield fighting not only for their own life but everyone else’s too. Trapped in a fight they couldn’t afford to lose, one they didn’t remember they won.

Cale was supposed to still be physically recovering from the last battle. And after his last little shit show from the other day, there was no way he would be out of the hook so easily.

(He didn't believe he could escape the situation. Not with the Ancient Powers’ help or Record).

And so, here he was, lying on his bed, staring at a ceiling that was slowly blurring away, taking the only reasonable option left for him: Sleep.

He slept that night, waking up at random times just to go straight to sleep; and kept sleeping when Ron came to wake him up, glancing at him before closing his eyes again. He went on like that for the rest of the morning, and then, in the middle of the afternoon, were his worried kids who woke him up.

“Are you feeling all right, Cale, nya?”

“Human, you've been sleeping all day, are you trying to hibernate?”

“Humans hibernate, nya?”

He blinked a few times before answering, the hole in his chest as present as before, meanwhile, the sleepiness was slowly drifting away, like sea mist finally leaving the shore.

“I’m fine.” His tone was low, hoarse and muffled by the pillow, broken by the lack of use, “Just a bit sleepy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Should we call Rosalyn?”

“Goldie-gramps?”

“Saint Jack?”

“Ron?”

He didn’t want to pay attention to his thoughts, already feeling them turning into a spiral of panic in the back of his mind and the need to throw up accompanying it. He put the smallest smile over his lips, mumbling something that he hoped sounded reassuring as he repeated: “I’m fine, I’m just sleepy.”

It wasn’t a lie either, despite being sure he slept all day he still felt like he could go back to doze off for the rest of the week, devoid of energy in a way he couldn’t put into words. And even Crybaby didn’t have an answer outside of it being mental.

Nonetheless, that was enough for the kids who worried as they were, still chose to leave it be for the moment, though Ohn’s gaze told him he wouldn’t get away with it forever.

There was no more talk after that, but when Hong laid down next to him and began to purr loudly, Raon was quick to follow his example, though in his case lying on Cale's back and Ohn deciding that, at least for now, she would try to make her father's little rest a peaceful one, lying down on the pillow over his head and covering his eyes with her tail.

The Henituse said nothing, even as he felt his chest boiling with affection and his eyes watering with sympathy. He simply let the waves of exhaustion wash him back into the dream world, which somehow felt warmer than it had all day.

The next time he woke up, there was still some afternoon light outside, although it was clear that it was way past even lunchtime.

The redhead felt trapped.

Before, he hadn't had the energy to move from the bed, now he felt like he had a honeycomb of wasps inside him trying to work their way through his bones and flesh to tear the skin apart and fly away. He tried to get the image out of his head. He couldn’t.

When he attempted to move, Raon's weight over his back prevented him. His brain, as expected, was not happy about it.

He tried to remove some of the energy inside him by closing his fingers, bringing them against his palm and then stretching them as far as he could. It didn't help much, hardly at all. Holding still hurt.

—Cale, just wake them up, nothing bad will happen.

He knew Glutton was right and wasn't scolding him, that didn't stop his silly heart from twisting like it was about to break.

He wanted to cry again.

All he wanted when he woke up was to roll over, roll onto his back and go back to sleep to ignore whatever little biological need his body had.

He closed his eyes tightly and held his breath, his head hurt. He felt like he was drowning. He wanted to run away.

Despite his best efforts, his eyes watered behind his eyelids and his shoulders tensed.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Cale Henituse wasn't going to cry, thank you very much.

Nope, what was pooling dangerously at the edges of his eyes were not tears, nor was what was clutching at the entrance to his throat whimpers, and his body was most definitely not shaking.

Because if any of those things were true and the kids or anyone else who would walk into the room would notice, he would have explanations to make that he wasn't prepared for. That he wasn't comfortable with and had no intention of making at all.

He wasn't going to cry, because he was sure he wouldn't be able to give any explanation if he did.

Chapter Text

Maybe it was the stiffness of his body, maybe Raon felt the need to roll out of his back, looking for a more comfortable position to sleep. Whatever the reason, the only thing that mattered to the noble was that the dragon wasn't over him anymore.

He made sure to get off the bed as quickly as he could, being careful not to sink the mattress around the kids or, obviously, crush them. The Sound of the Wind made it easier.

His steps were wavering, his throat was dry and his hurt.

He was sure the eyes staring at his back belonged to Ohn.

When he reached the bathroom door he put his hand over his eyes as if he were cleaning them. The lights turned on automatically, illuminating his body and his way inside the room, and the brightness of the lights made him grateful that he covered his eyes beforehand.

He made sure that Ohn couldn't see her eyes as he walked into the room, barely remembering in time that one of the mirrors faced the door.

The reflection that looked back at him once he got used to the illumination was the most pathetic he had seen in years. A trembling body with sickening white skin, red eyes and wounded lips that he couldn't, for his dear life, remember when he bit but was healing at an inhuman speed.

The only thing he managed to do, knowing that the kids were awake and didn't need to put their ears in the door to hear what he was doing, was to grip onto his sides in a tight embrace and slide down on the floor to curl up into a ball. It was definitely his choice, and not that his knees felt so weak he feared they would break with the weight of his body.

(He wasn't running away, he remembered, sparks of another life igniting from his memory, hiding wasn't running! His mother told him only he could put a name and differentiate between what he was doing and feeling!

And what if sometimes he allowed Lee Soo Hyuk to name what he was feeling? Or let Choi Jung Soo tell him what to do? That was totally different.

He wasn't running, no matter what others said.)

It took all the strength of his will not to give in to his wish to disappear when he felt the floor moving below him, magic mechanisms ready to answer back to his panic, to reach for him and take him somewhere safer. But he knew that would only make his night a bigger disaster than it already was.

He knew that one day he would have to explain, but he would rather it happen another day.

Not yet, not yet, soon but just not now, anytime but now.

—Cale, breathe, you're not breathing.

But if he breathed now it must end up sounding strange, like a man drowning in the open sea, and the kids would worry and they would ask questions and that'd made him cry and then he would have to talkandhewasn'treadyand—

—Cale, for the love of all good things, breathe.

Oxygen made its way down his lungs almost forcefully, and, just like he expected, the sound was horribly weird. The pressure he didn't realise that was building inside him loosened almost like magic.

He tensed, waiting for something, anything.

He was sure if he could see himself he would look like a deer about to be rolled over by a train.

He brought his knees closer to his chest and sunk his head deeper into the space, the image in his mind didn't weaver, just as fresh as a second before. He tried to imagine other things, but every single attempt was a failure, and his mind brought back bloody pictures as if to mock him for his inability to win against his own mind.

Nothing happened. No, more specifically, not a single sound came from the bedroom, no movement nor child-ish, worried voices asking if he was okay.

(In his panic, Cale forgot that Raon was a dragon.

For the Henituse's mental sake, the Ancient Powers didn't remind him either.)

He took another shaking breath, slower this time, making sure to cup as much air in his lungs as he physically could. One of his hands moved up his hand, passing over and over as he counted "one, two, three, four" repeatedly before breathing again.

With calm (or whatever he could call his current state), still feeling the absolute terror crackling in the deepest part of himself, waiting for any sign that triggered his worst fears and made him fall into another spiral of panic, he allowed himself the time to calm down.

Cale Henituse had a kind of person who he hated almost above anything else, and that was crybabies.

Sadly for him, he was one too.

When he finally felt like he could act as a relatively normal human being again he stood up, his knees protested at the effort of pulling up all his weight without help as his hands were too busy shaking and waving in the air, flexing his fingers and closing them, pressing against each other until he heard a distinction crack, crack, crack just to be extended to the point he felt the skin of his hand stretching to its limit.

The walk between his spot and the washbasin was short; he made it on his tiptoes. Once he was in front of the basin, he put his foot down, just to tiptoe again, as a shiver of pure disgust and discomfort ran down his spine. He was unable to tolerate the sensation of the cold floor below him and too tired to fight his habit of being a few centimetres above any source of water when he was cleaning something or washing his hands.

It was something very, very silly. It made him as irrationally happy as Jung Soo's smile.

When he was back in the room the first thing he noticed was the kids being asleep, almost instinctively he knew that something was deeply wrong… but he was tired, his body drained of any energy, hurting and stiff, and all he wanted to do was laid down to sleep and pretend that the night has been just a bad dream.

His foot moved lively under the table, he couldn't reach the floor so he was content on kicking the void below him all he wanted. The convenience store was empty beside him a bunch of black wall lizards that were jumping on top of the plant-covered shelfs, minding their own business.

He would have enjoyed the spectacle if he wasn't feeling so distracted. He couldn't quite put it into words, it was as if a distant voice was speaking to him, but he couldn't make out a single word. Although, aside from that, there was something inside him that was bothering him, but that, too, was something he couldn't pinpoint.

The void shook, and the lizards searched for refuge between the vines and packaging. He tried to climb the table when a pang in his chest—

“Human! Let's go on a walk!”

A slow blink directed to the ceiling was all the response that Raon got at first. The dragon opened his mouth to speak again, just in case Cale hadn't heard him when a warm hand started caressing the side of his head and his horn. That was more than enough to let the kid know that the nobleman had listened to his demand, so he decided to relax over the chest of his human.

The Henituse, on his part, was preparing himself mentally to deal with the day that was waiting for him. Even though he felt like he was made of rocks, and lacked any wish to get off the bed, he wasn't going to say "no" to the kids. He didn't have the heart for it.

No. Better said, he didn't have a heart at all that day, all that was in his chest was a black hole trying to devour him from the inside out, insatiable even after it had eaten all the colour of the world and had left behind only a grey and bland reality, one that was annoying and insufferable to deal with.

A distorted whisper tried to reach him, the latest pieces of a desperate dream not to fall into oblivion, the feeling was more irksome than it should have been. And oh, oh, today wasn't going to be a good day.

Cale looked blankly at the food in his lap, the small voice on his head was reminding him that he needed to eat, he must act normal and that he was worrying the kids.

He didn't feel like eating, nor force himself to eat again, but his kids were looking at him and the food was losing its original nice colour after rummaging it so much. It's almost brown and grass-like now, gross…

“Do you want something different, nya?”

He considered it seriously, he could feel his face tensing up even though he couldn't recognise what kind of expression he was making.

Maybe fruits? He thought. They were easy to eat even if he wasn't hungry, and they didn't lose their form or flavour even after shuffling them for long periods… most of the time.

“No, it's fine. I'm just not hungry yet.”

It wasn't a lie (he couldn't tell if it was true or not), but their expressions clearly showed that none of them believed him.

They spent a few seconds in silence, the only noise coming from the wolves training in the yard, under the window, before Ohn took the word (she did everything that she could not to point out how empty Cale's smile was, or that he is smiling in the first place, nor how dark the bags under his eyes are despite his much he had slept, how his hands are shaking even though they are still in place, or how pale he looks). “Alright then, maybe the walk would open your appetite?”

She knew better than to force someone to eat.

“Smart Rosalyn told me there was a cute cafe near the main square!”

The edges of the redhead's lips were trembling, fighting to keep the smile on his face, Raon's voice was way too loud for him at the moment. He had to remind himself that it was not Raon's fault. He wasn't doing it on purpose. He was a kid, and growing up and controlling the volume of one's voice was difficult. More importantly, Cale loved him.

“Let's go there later, nya.” Hong, as always, supported his younger brother's idea.

The Henituse nodded while he put the plate aside (it couldn't be called food anymore), the farthest away possible so it wouldn't accidentally spill on the bed. Raon used magi to put safely on the nearest table.

Hong moved out of the way when the human attempted to leave the bed, and he received a pat before Cale was fully out of the bed.

“I'm going to change,” he told them. “Go wait outside, I'll be done in a minute.”

Raon and Hong didn't waste time racing out of the room, clearly excited by the idea of going out of the villa with the four of them together. Ohn stayed on the bed, looking him in the eyes, her tail swayed slow and anxiously behind her back, and the Henituse looked back at her. She was familiar and comfortable, it made it easier.

“Everything's okay?” He asked her.

The cat seemed to doubt for a moment before she found her resolve, “We love you. You know that, right?”

There is a pause, the words taste ashy in his mouth. He knew that much.

“I… I do. I love you too.”

He wanted to bite off his tongue for that small slip, but he limited himself by cupping the girl in his arms and taking her to the door. The faster he changes clothes and leaves that room, the better.

“And… You know, you can trust in us if something is happening.”

His grip was weak and trembling as he held Ohn with one hand, opening the door with the other. He was weak, even holding a cat was hard. It wasn't because of the conversation they were having at all.

He gave her a short kiss at the top of her head before letting her go. “I know,” he said, “thank you.”

She left, and Cale could almost, almost see the conflicted expression on her face.

If it had been another moment the anxiety would have had eat him alive. He didn't have the time for that though.

(He refused to acknowledge how his arms were aggressively shaking in the air, trying to take some of his sudden nervous energy out, nor did he recognise how his jaw hurt from clenching it too hard.

He wasn't very enthusiastic about going outside.)

Something good had always come out when he was forced to fight against his panic, even when doing so meant facing new struggles after declaring war on his executive dysfunction. But anything to prevent Ron from putting him in a shirt with a too-tight neck.

Anyway, among other things, every day, he seemed to forget how easy it was to wash his teeth once he had the toothbrush in his hand. It made him remember how he used to fight for entire minutes before he could even bring the brush near his mouth because of how much he disliked lemon-flavoured toothpaste.

Of course, it didn't take long for her mother to notice his disgust and take them both on a little adventure through the biggest malls in their city, looking for child toothpaste with less strong flavours. He remembered her mother's hand holding his hand as they walked through the long corridors full of people and goods, and his father complimented him on his “excellent” taste when Rok Soo showed him his strawberry toothpaste.

They were good times, hard sometimes, but good at the end of the day.

He felt something in his chest, a can of worms twisting inside him. Nostalgia, maybe.

The words came out of his and the Henituse could feel the bits of energy he had left leaving him with each of them, “Let me know when you're hungry.”

He hoped the kids didn't care that he was even less talkative than during for a few more days.

Cale wasn't very present during their little walk through the market, way too busy mentally checking all the things he had yet to do and not letting strange, sudden noises make him jump or that the unforgiving heat no one else seemed to notice make him run towards the shadows and—

“Human!”

He stopped dead, noticing with embarrassment that he didn't even notice when Raon abandoned his side with Hong. Ohn was still in his arms though, looking at him with something he could only describe as concern. It made his heart twist into an ugly shape.

He turned around and went back with his sons.

The first thing they told him once they, he and Ohn, got back with Raon and Hong was “Look how pretty the flowers are, nya!” as they pointed at the shop window.

(Raon had picked up his siblings’ verbal tick over time, more now that he was practising keeping a cat form more often. It was meant for walks and so on, something he started doing after a small incident in another village they visit, where some people looked weirdly at Hong for “talking alone.” Hong didn’t see them, since they were behind him, but the dragon did.

He was livid and fuming when Ohn and Cale came back from checking an accessory that caught the girl’s eye, and even though his brother tried to minimise the incident Raon couldn’t let it go.)

(That incident also made Cale’s progress over building a bigger independence between the kids take a few steps back.)

The Henituse tried to look, he really did, but everything on display looked like an amalgam of colours with vague flower shapes scattered together. He was going to assume they looked pretty, they were colourful, displaying all sorts of vibrant hues.

He must have spent more time than necessary looking at them, because Ohn asked him, “Do you like them?”

The question was easy, and so was the answer, “Yes, they are pretty. Do you want some?”

“Only if we can make you a flower crown too!”

His stomach twisted and his chest felt tight, not in a bad way, nothing like when he could feel panic corroding him from the inside. It felt more like a tingling sensation, just strong enough to last a few seconds before banishing.

A little, genuine smile made its way into his face, the first one in a while, “Sure.”

As long as it was something they gave him, Cale would use anything. Just because he loved them.

Love was supposed to be something emotional, that was what everyone told him when he was little. Loving his kids should be instinct, and it was! To an extent, at least. It wasn’t an emotion or a feeling that could be erased when he couldn’t feel things, or when he was so overwhelmed that he wanted to scream, it couldn’t be taken away from him no matter what.

He could say he loved them out loud, heart dead and rotten, and it wouldn’t be a lie.

He loved them, even if seeing them didn’t bring the joy it usually did; he loved them even if their laughs felt like they were rasping his eardrums and their hands felt like little chains biting his wrists.

Even when watching them worrying over him felt more like annoyance than guilt.

(The voice in his head repeated again, as if all the previous reasons weren’t enough: I love them, I love them, I love them. He did, he was sure of it.)

They got back home a few hours later, and Cale had never felt more awful for feeling grateful for being left alone.