Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sinking was not how he imagined he would end. Being shot? Definitely. Drowning was a funny little twist, though. Like those ridiculous surprise gifts parents overpay for just so their kids forget them the next day. Yeah, that kind of fun.

Dying wasn’t honestly the problem if he stopped to think about it (he did have all the rest of his life for that, all puns intended), dying wet, though, felt like a cosmic joke, and he wasn’t laughing.

Before this stillness, there had been shouts, so many shouts his throat felt raw, the warmth of a hand in his grasp, the pumping of his legs as he ran faster than he ever thought he would need to in his life—then that warmth slipped away, like a damned trip that staggered his momentum, a pop of a bullet, pain—and not the kind he liked either—and then the world tilted sideways and he was sinking. It happened so fast, it spiraled so out of control right under his snout from day one. And he let it.

He let it in.

The water was cold.
So cold.
The things you notice in your last moments—how it crept and surrounded him, how it burned his nose, his mouth, his lungs, his head. How it invaded his thoughts until it consumed all his might, until his limbs became dead weight, chilling away the warmth of his skin in seconds. How it mixed with the blood around him—red, dark, and final.
Guess everybody was indeed the same, both inside and in the end.

Both in blood and heart.
Both a man and a monster.

How fucking hypocritical, and yet how fucking ridiculously true it was. He would laugh at the irony, really, if his lungs weren’t so full of water—or was it blood? Did it matter? He guessed not, he was dying after all.

His lips were cut, chilled. They had been warm just this morning, wrapped around the rim of a mug of coffee he didn’t make, and for the first time in all his life, he thought he could almost taste the bitterness of the liquid. His hands too had been warm, as he squished—lightly, playfully even, oddly so—a soft and unafraid face. Bright eyes stared back at him, so fucking bright and stupid and so smart that it sneaked in between cracks of himself until he was too enthralled to escape by the time he noticed. Like the melon vines he had tattooed all over his skin, it changed him permanently, wrapping and twisting until he didn’t know what he was before they came—sweet in ways he never had words or base to express, like small delicate flowers.

His eyes stung. He blamed the water surrounding him even though he knew it wasn’t true. Tears weren’t his thing, but gods, hadn’t those pesky melon flowers made it be since they started blooming?

Maybe he wouldn’t have ended here—drowning in his own blood and water—if he had walked away like he was supposed to, changed tactics, ended it all. Just a small push over the rail, and it could have changed this whole outcome. That’s all it would have taken, a small push, and then the game would be over, and with it, all the struggles and questions it brought by being played for too long. But he didn’t. And he guessed even here, even now, sinking, dying like a wet cat, he was glad he didn’t.

He closed his eyes against the mix of his blood dancing in the water around, the sting behind his lids from the not-tears stronger than the bullet in his chest. And the darkness and stillness, for once, felt more welcoming than the thrill of the chaos he so often pursued.

-&-

The sun spilled out in white, early morning rays when the pinkish curtains were thrown open, warming the room in mere seconds of exposure. A skinny doe stood in front of the window, bathing a bit in the shine with her eyes closed, feeling the breeze touch and caress the shallow valley of her fur.

“Good morning, world! May this day be better than yesterday!” she said to the open sky beyond with a light smile. It wasn’t that yesterday had been bad in any sense, but each day brought room for improvement if anybody asked her.

She hummed as she made her bed, her feet tapping arithmetically over the floor as she tugged her pastel sheets until no wrinkle could be spotted, a cheerful melody from a forgettable AD she heard weeks ago. Her room was swathed in shades of pink and white, dotted with small and methodical trinkets here and there to add to its soft charm, though in contrast to all the fluttery, books of clinical psychology and instinctual behaviour were neatly arranged at her desk from her university studies, small notes sticking out of it from between the crisp pages.

Opening her small closet, she carefully chose an outfit for today — a long knit white skirt she thrifted and a blouse of a bit more washed shade of pink, pretending not to stare too long at her shorter skirts and brighter outfits before closing the doors — but the highlight was always the heels that she would wear, very high, very bright, platform heels that stood to question how long she could stand on those. Regardless of it it was the small piece she truly felt excited to add to her daily routine, like a small unconscious rebellion.

And after a final spray of some floral perfume, she stepped out of her room, heels in hand, leaving the platforms by the door. The small two-bedroom apartment was still dark and silent, her roommate the opposite in any possible way of the early-bird doe it cohabited with, and yet Hana tried hard to make their living arrangements as welcoming for them both as she possibly could. Delicately, she opened the curtains, her humming softening and her steps lighter every time she passed by her roommate’s door. It was a quiet routine, one she’d settled well in the past two years.

Somewhere amidst the brewing of coffee and the packing of her roommate lunch Naomi finally emerged from her room, her tail and hem of her oversized pants dragging over the floorboards, fangs glistening dully in the light as she yawned, long whiskers standing high with the stretch of her face before she locked herself in the bathroom without a word. Hana smiled and focused on the tasks at handd, her humming still whisper soft as she divided coffee and tea in separate thermos and left them on the counter. Twenty minutes or so later, out she came, dressed in so much black and ecological leather that it was hard to tell where her fur began and where it ended.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Hana chimed with a teasing undertone once Naomi was with a washed and awoken face, her smile impossibly bright against the panther’s cooler mood, keeping in mind not to stare. “Unfortunately, we don’t have time to sit down and have some slow breakfast. But! I packed you a cup of coffee.” and like the magician she was she shook her hands to highlight said packed coffee in the countertop.

She got a timid smile in exchange, this time hiding her fangs politely behind closed lips, her posture a bit more lowered, trying to be a bit less threatening even though she still towered over the small doe — an unnecessary action, and both of them knew it. “Thanks, Hana.”

“No problemo,” she sing-sang, handing Naomi her lunch bag like a mother and the takeaway thermos. Turning to put her own tea bottle inside her tote bag for class she babbled, as she checked her materials and her notes, going over the front to strap on her heels. “We could have dinner together though, maybe even cook together! Wouldn’t that be awesome? I’ve been trying to perfect a soy burger recipe that I saw online for a few weeks. But you'll have to tell me if its good though, I cant honestly find the taste in it. " She patted her ankles and shook her foot to make sure they stayed put, they did.

There was a small pause as her roommate tied the laces of her boots and a notable cringe, her ears flipping back a bit. “Sorry, Hana. I will stay late at a friend’s house today. We will practice a few notes with the band, so I’ll probably sleep there too. Sorry, It completely slipped my mind.”

Hana blinked. “Oh.” Staggering a bit, she pretended to check for her wallet and keys, again, before stepping outside. “Nah it's fine, no worries.” she buried the mild disappointment like one burry a body and smiled with lightness that didn’t fully reach her eyes as she held the door open for Naomi’s taller frame. “Maybe next time then yeah?”

They slowly took the stairs down, Hana with a guiding hand over the rail and Naomi politely slowing her pace to accommodate the doe. The silence lingered a bit too long, but Hana didn’t press, focusing to put one foot in front of the other as she waited; she learned that with some people, conversation was like fishing — you had to wait for them to bite deliberately.

“So,” And like she imagined the panther started, almost awkwardly, “I heard you’ll be having a new psychology professor from today?”

She blinked, now THAT completely slipped her mind. “Oh yeah. You’re right. wow I completely forgot about that, I hope he’s more educated than the last one.” She wasn’t one to judge—she hated that, actually—but she could not tolerate condescending professors, and Dr. Takeno was… quite the infuriating character, and that was being polite.

“What actually happened to the last one, anyway?” Naomi asked as they took the last steps off the stairs, no broken ankles thankfully, walking slowly along the pavement to the university. Finding an apartment a mere fifteen minutes away from campus had been more than a lucky shot; sharing it was mostly an excuse to try to bond with somebody. “There’ve been rumors that he quit suddenly.”

She shrugged, trying to feign a sliver of sympathy for her former professor and failing miserably. “I have no idea, honestly,” She remembered a few jokes about said male and before she could analyse the 'social cues book for dummies' in her brain the words tumbled out of her mouth “Maybe his nose was so high up in his butt that he finally ascended, like wall décor. Or a bear’s toothpicks.” The smile that grazed her lips was smug but none the less true, she was still sour from his last 'correction' on her paper about predator empathy in clinical practice, a paper that he dismissed as naïve speculation, with the charming add-on that she should 'leave complex thinking for clearer minds.' Call her petty all you wanted, but she had no remorse for her words.

Naomi tripped over her own feet before looking back at her roommate, her face horrified like Hana had just grown a pair of antlers, or fangs. “What the actual fuck, Hana?” she muttered.

The doe blinked, frowned, It sounded funny in her thoughts. Hilarious even, and true of course. “What?”

“Girl… you can’t say shit like that.” The frown marred deeper her forehead as she stared at the pavement ahead as if it had all the answers she couldn’t catch by herself—She heard that joke plenty of times when Dr. Takeno was concerned, specially among carnivores and she did find them hilarious given the edge of truth they all carried, snorting quietly even when she was no part of said joking group, but THAT was not the reaction she hoped for.

“Why not? He was a horrible professor. His last lecture was basically a sermon about ‘carnivores and their inferior psychological capacity.’ If someone did eat him, they deserve a thank-you card. Look its not like I wished him dead, its not that big of a grudge " even though she was still very sour to the point she made sure to skip the last four classes or so.

“Wasn’t he a deer like you though?” Naomi cringed. What a conversation to have with a herbivore in plain daylight.

Hana gave a small shrug again. The past few lectures he gave made her question so much about the whole set of didactic values professors were meant to uphold, so much so that she laid awake many night wondering if closing her grades for the time being was more worth it, or if maybe that’s how society really portrayed psychology; a pyramid of relations rather than dissection of minds ” Yeah, but his antlers weighed too much for that small brain of his. Putting it up on a wall would be for the best of the whole society and future of any psychology students.” She turned to Naomi with a mischievous smile, eye to eye, and there she saw that horrified and slightly worried look she so often did. Her smile died, the joke landing flat like a pancake on the pavement. Maybe she said it too…enthusiastically? Or was her smile that came across as too blunt? It did a twist in her heart—or was it her gut?—before she forcibly averted her gaze. “Sorry, I’ll keep it down”

She heard Naomi sigh as they turned a corner, the campus now a mere few feet away. “Look, I’m not judging you. I don’t mind some dark jokes, but coming from a herbivore is just…”

Hana watched her roommate from the corner of her eye as she fumbled for a less offensive word than weird. “Feel off?”

“…Yeah.” Naomi scratched her neck with an awkward hand, looking anywhere but at her companion.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes again, posture stiffer, shoulders hunched a bit forward, strides a bit more spaced. Wasn’t that how herbivores normally walked? “Oh look,” indicating with her head from afar a black-clad group of carnivores, similar to Naomi’s uniform, sitting near the fountain of the campus. They were laughing, maybe teasing one another. “I think your friends are waiting for you.”

The panther ears perked at that, her posture for the first time of the day going straight, standing taller, shoulders rolling back, pupils slightly dilated and her whiskers doing a funny little flutter. It was something fascinating to watch—Naomi shifting to something closer to her full potential. Did she bring any of the same grace when she tried to mimic too? Would she ever?

Though her roommate hesitated before running off, a small awkwardness coating her like a second skin. Whiskers twisting as her face contorted a bit, catching every shift of light. “Look, Hana.” The words were slow, testing, but Hana was a patient kind, giving Naomi the space to solidify her thoughts into words. Sometimes she wouldn’t even go through the trouble of that, so waiting a bit was nothing to bother. “Be careful with some things you say. I don’t want you to get the wrong type of attention from the wrong person”

It was a valid concern, and an appreciated one too, even if it made Hana’s hands squeeze a bit tighter over the straps of her bag.

“But, if it’s any consolation…” their eyes crossed again and surprisingly Naomi held her gaze steady like she would with a fellow carnivore — although her green ones still held a small uncomfortableness to hold a herbivore gaze like that; Hana’s were unwavering—and gave her a small smile, the tip of her fangs showing, a deliberate action, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes, the effort was noted. “I think you would have fit perfectly with carnivores were you born in a different body”

Hana felt her shoulders relax. Her smile was soft, such a contrast to her normal bubbly persona—a reserved thing that held more depth than Naomi could ever start to guess. “Thanks.” Naomi nodded and ran up to her group, and Hana turned to keep walking toward the lecture hall, pretending not to hear the shouts of delight of ones that knew where they belonged.

-&-

The classroom was gradually building up with students, chatter floated in the air like a second skin around her. Friends gave cheery good mornings and more than a few replied with sleepy responses.

Hana chose a seat near the middle, far enough from the stage to not be caught staring if it happened but close enough to hear the professor clearly should they step away from the lectern. Her nerves and excitement weren’t doing her any good, though, as she absentmindedly tried to organize and reorganize her materials. Would the new professor be a carnivore? She had a small hope they would be —it would break many prejudice-driven thoughts her previous professor drilled in the class, and maybe it could open new layers of perspective —

What would their specialization be? Clinical? Cognitive? Or maybe even Forensic? What about the field? Maybe a psychiatrist? Organizational?

Whichever way it was, she definitely hoped they had less frayed morals than Dr. Takeno’s selfish and prejudice-driven lectures.

The doe hummed quietly as her thoughts swirled inside her head, too caught up in her own questions and theories to notice the Nyala cautiously sliding into a seat beside her, trailed by a small group of herbivores.

“Hi!” the ewe greeted, chipper but cautious and quietly enough to not startle Hana out of the blue, natural and honestly a nice gesture if you looked at social rules.

Hana simply blinked, her right ear did that single confused and awkward flap like a faulty mechanism trying to flare up without the proper engines, before she turned her head with a small tilt and a smile. “Oh, hi. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you there.”

There was a quick furrow in between the ewe’s brows at the lack of reaction, but it was gone quicker than a blink to Hana’s relief, turning into a pleasant smile across her chocolate brown fur. “It’s alright. You’re Hana, right?”

“That’s me. And you are? “ Way to start a conversation Hana, you could have shirked like a lhama too while you were at it you moron. she mentally cringed, scolding herself for such bluntness as her nails made small crescents in the desk with the. But at least she didn’t stare, which she took as a small win.

The ewe, though, didn’t seem to notice or mind. Either way, good omens existed. “Okuhle.” With a brighter smile she turned her shoulders a bit to reveal the small pack with her. “And that’s Shiho, Misaki, and Elise.”

The others offered shy waves to the doe, each with different greetings from cheerful to cautious. Hana gathered her enthusiasm in a carefully contained bottle of its well-crafted façade of averted eyes and mindful body language as she forced both feet to stay on the ground and not tap and waived back.

“Hi everyone, good morning.”

The cashmere rabbit’s smile brightened, but her tone was delicate, almost shy in nature. “I love your heels, they suit you.” Elise, she presumed, if she was to judge by the accent.

The world felt warmer at the compliment, almost secure enough to loose a little bit of that enthusiasm for it to show in the beam of her eyes when they met the rabbit’s. “Thanks! I like them a lot too—I could give you the name of the store later if you want.”

The floppy brown ears cascading on her back even seemed to perk a bit at that. Hana noted it with no small swell of pride and a mental pat on the back. Who’s the moron now? Controlling bitch “That would be great, thank you!” Elise gave a small awkward laugh. “Though I have a feeling I would break an ankle in those.”

The Blacknose sheep—maybe Misaki, Hana supposed, next to Elise—gave a small chuckle at that.

“I don’t doubt that,” which Elise mocked a scoff but didn’t rebut. “Do you wear them often?”

“Pretty much. I have around a thousand of them in different heights and colours,” she gave a small laugh. “I could dress an army with them if I wanted.”

And the laugh that followed her dumb comment—a real laugh, a genuine, non-mocking laugh—made Hana hold on so tightly to her pen just to keep from bouncing off her seat into deep space like a flicking rocket in happiness.

“You’re funny,” Okuhle said. “I thought you would be a little more on the cautious side with that roommate of yours. Guess I was wrong.”

There was a pause in her brain at that, a slow, confused and methodical one that made her right ear twitch again. The ewe didn’t say it in an implying way—at least she didn’t sound malicious— and yet the feeling of off flared anyway, but before she could voice her confusion, Shiho, the fellow shika deer in the group, gave a chuckle in agreement.

“Yeah, you’re the one that lives with the edgy panther, right? You must be on your toes all the time. I would’ve moved out after a month or tried to find a new roommate.”

Now that was a eyebrow furrow worth of confusion, because in the last two years she had known her roommate, she had never seen her give off any vibe for this type of reaction, Naomi never smelled of meat or did drugs, she tried to hide the few packs of cigarettes she kept every time Hana was around and was polite enough to never use them near her or in their shared spaces.

She always kept her part of the rent, helped clean every Friday night, and would even play her bass sometimes to Hana if she felt confident enough. Not to mention that she respected Hana’s personal bubble and oddities like no other.

Yes, Naomi could be quite a bit quiet and like Shiho said “edgy” but Hana saw it more as a personality thing rather than a concern thing. She was a great roommate overall, so the reaction felt…overreacted. Her lips parted—as she’d learned before, better to question than assume wrong—but again she was cut short before voicing her confusion.

“Right? How do you do that? Like, I’m not trying to sound specie-cist or anything, but you never know. And she looks very scary for sure. We herbivores have to be careful, always.” Misaki pushed a thick curl of wool up, her was smile shy but her voice was sure.

“And stick together,” completed Elise.

“And stick together,” agreed Okuhle with a prideful smile, before she leaned a bit more forward in Hana’s direction, just a bit inside her personal space and she pretended to not stiffen at that. Her smile was enthusiastic, but Hana—even though the little voice in the back of her head told her to make an effort and be pleasant, they technically weren’t doing anything wrong, it said, stop being a weird wuss and ride the tide it also said But she couldn’t match the enthusiasm regardless.

“By the way, I wanted to check if you free to meet us for lunch. I have a few acquaintances that are looking for roommates—if you don’t mind sharing with first-years, of course. They are just fresh out of high school, yes I know, but I’m almost sure they wouldn’t give you too much money trouble anyway.” Her hand flapped the air nonchalantly like that’s was no such concern, and as quiet as it was it irked the doe a bit, Hana was not a struggling UNID student yes, but her family wasn’t willing to expend extra on her either, she knew as much. “And I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable with another herbivore than with a large feline.” The ewe took her phone out of her pocket as her group agreed, talking absentmindedly about said acquaintances while Hana questioned further that little voice that seemed so distant the longer the conversation went.

“Actually,” the doe cut in with a polite hand up, keeping her voice and face carefully sweet in a attempt to keep the previous mood without sounding rude, holding all the ties of social rules she had carefully arranged in her brain for dear life while being truthful with herself. It was so much harder than it sounded. “Thank you all for the concern, I would love to meet for lunch, but I must decline the new roommate offer. I’m happy with my living arrangements.” Tone slow, voice careful with a smile on her face, a polite and relaxed body language, and all the tactics she’d learned over the years.

And still Okuhle paused, her thumbs hovering over the screen of her phone, a confused “oh” escaping her lips as she looked at Hana, dumfounded. “Really? I mean… with a panther?”

“Yeah, Naomi is a great roommate, actually.” She left a pause for a second to try to gather her thoughts under the pretense of breathing between sentences, turning words around to show her reasons and try to make them see sense in it. Many people judged what they didn’t know anyway—knowledge was the best tool against this type of guessing, wasn’t it? “I know she can be a bit mean-looking from afar, but I assure you once you get to know her, you can see that she’s actually a sweetheart. She helps me clean, cook, and pays rent on time. I can’t say the same about many herbivores that I’ve met before.” The small chuckle was a failing attempt to disperse the awkwardness that started to thicken the air.

The half-hearted ones that followed made that heart-twisting feeling she got when she messed up and still couldn’t pinpoint where.

“But…” Misaki started tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at her peers for approval before continuing, “Don’t you get afraid? Like, there are so many occurrences of herbivores getting eaten.”

“Yeah,” the bunny agreed with a rub on her arm. “There was an incident around six years ago about that. It shook the whole country up. I think it was a bear that ate an alpaca student inside school grounds. It took almost a year to find the culprit.”

“I heard the murderer was a serial killer, no? Killing herbivores back and forth” A shudder ran down Shiho’s back, raising every single fur of his winter coat.

Hana quietly cleared her throat, licked her lips. Knowledge helped disperse fears, she tried reminded herself, and misinformation tended to fuel them up instead. “They were classmates, actually. Friends, even. The perpetrator was off his strength pills and ended up accidentally hurting the victim. The victim ran, plus the smell of prey blood, biologically speaking it wasn’t a completely, well, sane murder. I mean it wasn’t even a murder if you look at this from a biological side, more instinctual drive rather “ the silence was heavy, gnawing, she cleared her throat and finished quietly with a “well, from a psychological side I mean”

It wasn’t like she was defending the murderer, or blaming the victim, but occurrences like this most of the time held more depth than most prey cared to look into, so she was just trying to explain that, her tone even and matter-of-fact. In her head, that was the best way to correct those wrong assumptions, and she didn’t go into detail either because, well, people got uncomfortable with the bits and pieces—literally. But by the silence and the stares that followed, Hana wondered if she had maybe again been too blunt in the delivery.

“That’s… horrid,” Okuhle’s ears flipped back, her hands holding a small tremble as she pulled out of Hana’s personal space slowly, like if she moved just slowly enough Hana would not notice it — even though she did. “Why do you even know that?”

Shifting in her seat as her fingers toyed against the fluffy charm attached to her pen end to distract her hands, her thoughts ran into a billion directions, too fast and complete gibberish for her to catch other than the ha ha ha ha in her brain amidst the fuzz.

She cleared her throat. “It was in the official report, and I like to keep up with such things. You know, I heard so many twisted versions of certain stories and knowing the few facts makes me feel more grounded I guess. Fear also make prey twist things up, I though knowing the source could help appease that, you know? I also believe it helps with my behavioural psychology studies given the statement of the perpetrator after he got caught.” Her ear flapped as she rambled, mocking little thing, she hated it. Taking a small steadying breath, she offered them a smile, bringing the conversation back to a comfortable topic. Make a joke. “But honestly, don’t worry about me. Naomi is such a dramatic character that it would be hard to miss her trying to eat me. Like missing a meteor crashing.”

The silence that followed was heavier than an elephant.

“I… I see,” Okuhle said after a beat, clearing her throat and shoving her phone in her pocket. Her small group took that as clear leave to mutter about finding better viewing seats before class finally started. “I’ll see you around then, Hana.” But before Hana could reply—maybe try to correct herself. About what? Was it the delivery? Should she have said something else?—the ewe was already leaving with her small hoard.

“Yeah… see you around.”

She sagged in her seat, pretending to check intently her previous notes as she took long and steadying breaths, blinking away tears that wouldn’t fix the situation anymore—they never did—as she ran the conversation again in her head to try to figure out what she said or did wrong this time.

She had no clue, and the only solution she could fantom was to say sure and I would love to and get along with her side, the prey side, like she was supposed to do, the frustration of that was beyond any discomfort she could have ever felt.

Note to self: shut up when you feel like you’re slipping. She could not believe she still had to note those things when her older sister loved to remind her about how much she lacked.

Hana rubbed at her temple, letting the shadow of her palm try to soothe the voice in her mind that sounded so much like family, humming under her breath as one of her legs bounced slightly and forcing her focus to shift from her notes to the world around her like white noise. Somebody barked a laugh at the back, bags hit the wooden chairs, the world kept rolling around regardless of her. And then a click from the door next to the stage—and the murmur started to die.

She let a quiet sigh escape her lips before uncovering her eyes with deep breaths, spotting a tall male gazelle walking the front doors, his horns gleaming and polished under the overhead lights, posture straight and impeccable and yet somehow relaxed, as if it wasn’t such great effort to walk in like that and silence a room. There was a few more rushed shuffles as students settled but until the calm and unhurried steps of the professor found his desk and placed his leather bag over the surface — no laptop, no tablet, no textbook, just him — the hall was quiet and attentive. Such a way to make an entrance

And despite the setting there was something in the way the male moved —so similar to a chess player if one were to use its own body as the pieces and if this was a match made to be won rather than a classroom— that made Hana posture straighten with a frown marring her forehead, that annoying and confused flap of the ear didn’t forget to make an appearance either but her mood was soured enough that she smacked it with her hand and kept it flat against her head until it stoped ticking.

“Good morning” his voice was velvety and deep, calm and yet it carried over the hall more like a boom than an echo, and when he turned she finally got a good look at his face, or well, what was visible of it anyway with that black mask covering the lower half of it.

Features sharp and angular with delicate and long lashes gave him a adorably calming expression, soft in all the right places that made Hana again wonder at her own reflection in the mirror, if she looked as soft as she was supposed to.

But behind said lashes she could glimpse shadows of honeyed gold eyes that felt sharper than a scalpel and not at all that prey soft. “Im Dr. M. And I will be taking over this year clinical psychology class.” long and delicate fingers intertwined in front of him with such a deliberateness that was captivatingly slow motion.

And yet, there was something about his poise, how he seemed to let his words sink like teeth in flesh as he passed his gaze over each and every row of students faces like he had everyone under his fingertips. That could be read as arrogance if Hana haven’t seen it drip and pool from Dr. Takeno before, from this man, this new professor of hers, felt more like assessing — cataloging even — than purely superiority. And through whatever he had seen in the class didn’t impress him enough to account more of his attention.

“ Firstly: Im not here give any of you coddles or handouts, regardless of your specie, background or if you’re carnivore, herbivore or both, it does not matter to me. So I suggest a moment of self reflection and if that thought bothers you in any form or way, take your leave”

Her eyebrows spiked sky high as people shifted around uncomfortably, a few murmurs arose and died, Hana heard a brief ‘what the fuck’ behind her. So far he gave no credentials, no background field, no expectations, no open for questioning, no nothing and now that.

“ Very well. I would like to start with a simple question then” his hands unlaced and flew behind his back, clasping again in the slow and deliberate way as as his legs moved him with long strides, confident, prowling “Whats the most dangerous tool a psychologist can wield ?”

Silence met him and he paused, his right ear lifted high im the direction of the class as if questioning such hesitance and determinating if it was wise

“ This is not rhetorical, answer.“ there was no shift in his tone, no rise, no anger, just a mild push of something that made people start to murmur theories around her instantly.

Somebody in the back cleared their throat and the pause of his legs and the microscopic upward tilt of his ear was the only indication of his mild attention “the…uh, the mind?”

He resumed walking without even turning to see the student that dared to answer “No, try again”

Another student in the front raised their hand and again he paused but didn’t look “The truth?”

He tilted his head a notch sideways, considering “interesting answer” then he resumed the slow walk around the stage “But no, anybody else ?”

Her pen tapped lightly against the edge of her notebook, absentmindedly following the tap tap tap of his polished shoes over the floor as her brain ran over thought of persuasion, manipulation, the nudge that could tilt ones world off its axis. Her voice was quieter than she wished, but steadier than she expected in the silence.

“Trust”

The single word cut through the mild murmurs like a hot knife cut through butter. His soft gait stopped and his head turned so lightly in her direction that could pretend that it was not at all if she couldn’t physically feel his stare on her, a light hmm a tone too low escaped his throat as he watched from the corner of his lashes. Those eyes felt striping, like being dipped in cold deep waters “Go on”

She cleared her throat, awkwardness clamping her gut but she didn’t let her eyes fall off, despite all the rules she kept chained to her ankles this time it felt like a challenge to keep her gaze steady rather than dropped. “A psychologist can manipulate their client’s whims with trust. Twist it. Exploit it. Thrust if used wrong can be a… weapon of sorts, wielded to crumble ones world from the inside”

At that he did turn better in her direction, face more square to see her and put her under his gaze like a bug under the microscope. From the distance she could see the small pouch under his eyes as they smiled at her answer even if his mask didn’t shift even a bit to indicate a matching one over his hidden lips.

And despite the small sense of accomplishment the gesture gave, the feeling was more like dissection than praise. “Not bad” and just like that he turned back to walk to his desk “Trust is indeed a double edged sword, its earned through control. And control…” he got to the lectern, one of his hands coming to rest lightly over the varnished surface, letting the phrase pull and coil in the air and steal the oxygen of the room as he let his gaze hover over his new chore before he continued “…is the most dangerous tool we, as psychologists, wield”

There was murmured agreements, nods and the scrape of pens on paper of people taking fast notes. She too, despite herself, hurried to write down a small note and for a second too long it felt like those honey rings burned in the top of her head again but he was already sweeping those probing eyes over the rows when she looked back at his stage.

“Psychology in general is a weapon. One that can be used to heal, to build, to connect and to understand. But lets not sugar-coat this: it can also be used to tear someone apart —methodically, precisely, effectively, and without them ever realizing”

“Our main goal is to understand our clients and to understand someone is to hold their blueprint in your hands. Every fear, every strength, every flaw — it’s all there, waiting to be uncovered and used. And the difference between using it to heal or harm is a line thinner than most of you will ever realise. “

That got her leaning over her forearms, suddenly annoyed that she choose the middle sit than the front even though she had a feeling that staying so close could burn more than just warm. There was not just the way his words landed with surgical precision in genius ways but the underlying coil under his very skin, like every syllable was a move planned beforehand, delivering impacts with premeditated reactions.

His eyes smiled again, the first glint of something beneath his long lashes sparkling dully, something similar to a calm mocking that made him look petty and younger by a few years “So if the idea of being under scrutiny — of studying yourselves as much as you’ll study others — makes you uncomfortable, I again suggest you the door”

And again nobody moved, and she wasn’t quite sure if this time it was totally for the shock, how he captivated the class or the underlining threat that hung with those words.

“Very well, lets see if any of you are worth my time.”

And with that the lecture began and Hana felt for the first time in what felt like years a pull of something she couldn’t quite categorize as purely curiosity, more viceral than admiration. If she could grasp she could almost call it instinctual, pulling at a part of her she didn’t fully understand but could not draw away either.

Chapter Text

Hi everyone! Just a quick hi to reassure I’m not dead and put some thoughts to rest.

I know it’s been a month, I wish I could write faster but I want to deliver a good chapter every time, little perfectionist I know,I am studying psychology for this fic, doing my research, searching behaviour and certain patterns so I can match, my most common self questions is “how would this character act if this situation is presented to them?” or “how would this person or character that have this certain brain wireframe act if they were in this specific situation?” And I take that very seriously

So please if the first chapter caught your attention bear with me, I promise I don’t plan to leave this fic in the dark, I know the hurt when you start to read a fic and the author vanishes out of thin air and I don’t plan to do the same thing.

For updates, chapter two rough draft is almost done, the problem is that every time I go check it I want to re-write the whole thing and that’s my most common mistake, insecurity is bitch, but I’m working on it.

I also have a tumblr, old thing but I post, not only some small updates but I will also start to post snippets and art of this fic, so feel free to check it out, and if you have any questions don’t be shy to reach out, I love to chat.

Lastly, I love to read comments or even to know someone is reading this fic and waiting for an update, it really helps with the bitch of my brain, so feel free to leave a comment or sent me something on tumblr.

I will come back, I want to say sooner than you think but I can’t make promises, but i will say I won’t take years to update for sure.

Thank you for coming to the pep talk, I hope I can see you next chapter!

Ps: I will update this chapter and post the real chapter two once it’s finished, I have a thing with numbers as well.

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/skepticalbonker