Work Text:
Ralsei sets down yet another stone in the center of Kris and Susie’s combined rooms. Tearing the wall down was far easier than rebuilding it, but then again, he had help that time. He had already declined assistance from about half the town’s darkners, feeling awful about considering accepting even an ounce of help when they’ve already done so much. This was his job, laying each stone, making sure these two realms stay separate.
It was never a depressing existence under any definition. He’s spent his life toiling away for those he was told were better than him and it filled his little heart until he almost felt guilty. Guilty just from how much joy he felt being nothing more than the b-pawn of a divine game of chess. It’s a rush he felt long before the arrival of the two other heroes, and one that he feels now, making sure the castle he built long ago remains well-maintained.
Recently, though, that feeling’s validity has been called into question. For sure it still exists, but his selfish actions on their adventures has led him to believe that maybe there’s something more. For one, taking charge on Tenna’s boards, stealing the fleeting hit of completing a primary objective from Kris. Poking fun at Susie’s lack of healing skill back in the Cyber World for another. Eating what had to be the best slice of cake anyone has ever summoned from a cauldron before.
Being so foolish as to think his emotions mattered when Susie was clearly so hurt.
A few tears, striking his scarf, fall from Ralsei’s eyes as he snatches up yet another stone from the supply he’s hauled in, resting it on top of the waist-high wall. There’s no need to question what makes you happy.
“… Dude, are none of the five thousand something people in this town gonna help you?”
Both Susie and Ralsei are lucky that the stone was already placed, because he physically jumps at the voice, every muscle straining in confused panic, though composing itself within a split second. He turns around, towards the door to Susie’s room, locking fingers with himself. Not needing to put on a smile like he usually does, as the one he currently has does the trick.
“H-Hi, Susie! You’re here early!” He breaks the lock between his fingers to pat down his robe, brushing off the crusted-on dust of minerals from his working outfit. Ornate robes traded for a set of practical, disposable grey cloth. To the sight of someone she’s used to seeing in an outfit hand-crafted to perfectly match what he thought she and the First Hero would enjoy, in such down-to-earth attire, she could only think about how to make his life a little easier.
She responds, “Uh, yeah, I guess. You said we can come over whenever life's overwhelming, right?”
Ralsei nods, saying, “I did! You… took me up on it. Haha.”
Susie would find Ralsei offputting if she didn’t have any understanding of what he had on his plate. No matter how much he pretended to smile, she always knew he wasn’t content with the simple working life. He was a prince, goddamnit, and if Ralsei wasn’t going to make sure he was treated like one, she would.
“… How long have you been doing this? Buildin’ this wall. Again.”
The awkward phrasing is entirely intentional to maximize Ralsei’s confidence; you can’t afford to pull any punches when boosting it, as Susie’s learnt.
He responds, “There aren’t any clocks here, but if I had to guess… an hour or so?”
She doesn’t miss a beat, firing back, “I wouldn’t be able to do something I hate for even half that, heh. You should–“
And with that, Ralsei interjects, speaking up, “I don’t hate it!” A half second of silence, and then under no pressure, Ralsei says with a dejected tone, “Sorry for interrupting you, Susie… finish, please.”
“I was going to say you should take a break. Maybe… uh, I could make some tea for us?”
His eyes widen. One hundred percent he’d love to, but first… “Y-You know how to make tea?”
She shrugs, “It’s not like it’s a complex process. My sister loves the stuff, so I make it a ton. I just… hardly ever drank it. Until today.”
The memory of sitting with Kris and Ralsei, scarfing down some cake before their next adventure, got her smiling. Not out of hope bordering on denial for once, no, it was a form of warmth, distinct from the pleasure of accomplishment.
The same applies to Ralsei. The only thing that filled his heart more than serving fate would be being respected by the other two heroes… and perhaps eating some cake too, neither of which were owed to him, mind you.
Ralsei, comfortable in the face of the girl, states without much thought, “Can I ask a bit more about her?” Cautious as always, he corrects course, trying to laugh, something that always seems to disarm Susie, at least when Kris does it. “Ignore that, I was… you can make the tea! Do you know where everything is?”
Susie unscatters the thought independently, finding which of the two questions to respond to first. “…well, do you have a microwave anywhere? Or just… tea?” Where did she learn to microwave tea, for one? It hurts him to think so negatively of Susie, a thought that could, through some means or methods, bring harm to her. And putting someone like her to work…
“U-Uhm, not right now, no! I’ll just conjure some up from the cauldron! Stay where you are, alright?” He can’t bear to hear her response, silently yet firmly walking out the room’s door. All he can hear from Susie in the midst of his cowardly retreat is a, “Ral–“, before there’s enough distance between them both to avoid hearing any speech at all. She’s probably so frustrated at him, denied the opportunity to witness how it’s made. Denied to choose a flavor of tea, or to have a nice conversation as they descend down the stairs.
Speaking of, moving slowly from how heavy turning down Susie weighed on his mind, he sets his hand on the rail of the regal, dim stairwell, watching it slide down alongside him as he takes the occasional glacial step down, smile running away from his face in an instant for contrast. He’ll need to apologize to her. Profusely. Even then, there’s no expectation she’ll accept it, and he’s perfectly fine with that. After all, she is his–
“Ralsei!” Susie calls out to him, having just gotten up and left. It feels like a yell. Tears form on the surface of his fluffed face as she marches down to meet him. He makes no attempt to outrun her, but Susie stops just shy of breathing distance. It would be considered an act of kindness if she quieted down as well.
“What the hell, man? What’s wrong?”
He turns around, pushing himself to the edge of the step and a little further beyond, raising his paws in his guilt. Ralsei, forced to respond, says, “Susie… I wish I could do more for you.”
Susie takes some cautious steps towards Ralsei. He considers stepping back, just for a second, but never follows through. He goes all in on Susie having the best of intentions with him, and he can safely claim his winnings when she places a hand on his shoulder, securing him to the stone step.
“Ralsei. You’re placing however many rocks individually to fix our rooms. Again, you’re good. Just… treat yourself to something sometime, okay? You worry me sometimes, w–”
“Sorry, Su–”
“Shut up for a second.”
Ralsei ensures that he does just that, forced to make eye contact, which could be described as a form of torture with the tension threatening to deflect his gaze with every second that passes.
“S–”
And he stops himself halfway through, wondering to himself just how he could be so inconsiderate as to get himself into this situation. Everything here could have been avoided if only he had been kind.
Susie, after a tense few seconds, instructs, “We’re gonna make some tea, then drink it in your room. That entire time, you’ll think about how to… well, I guess you can think about stuff in Castle Town you want as furniture, but I was gonna say how to kick that one bullshit quest’s ass.”
Her bluntness would normally bring a laugh to him. She always managed to put into words what he could never say himself, mostly what he wants, something she tends to pay more mind to than anyone from his reality. At least Ralsei can smile, knowing that Susie isn’t angry at him. Smiling while still allowing himself to cry, it’s such dissonance to him. It’s like when the sun’s out during the rain. Everything is so bright, so why can he still feel the stinging droplets?
Susie seems to acknowledge that he isn’t entirely happy, but isn’t exactly doing poorly anymore. Either she couldn’t care less about what someone was feeling, or she doesn’t know how to help. In some desperate palliation, she reaches into her pockets, gripping the jacket from the inside. With Ralsei looking on, she raises it to his eyes, rubbing the silky side against his face. Each tear gets absorbed into the gaps of the cloth, and even now, Ralsei’s concerned about how he’ll be responsible for any stains, however temporary.
“... Got that?” Susie addresses him, clearing the end of her purple-trimmed jacket, hoping to give Ralsei enough time so that he feels like he can, at last, respond. He does so with a nod.
“Great. Let’s get off the stairs, ‘kay? Only place in the whole castle that isn’t heated,” Susie comments. Does he need to find a way to heat up the staircase? That can be his next project after the wall’s rebuilt, the forgery building’s completed… and then, he guesses, his room has a place for him to lay down, if he can find the time to lay down at all.
Susie sets her jacket back to rest, and Ralsei’s eyes don’t well back up with burnt-out tears. The passive prince and the girl to which he owes his life head down the stairs at one another’s side, hands in their own pockets. Silence tends to be uncomfy with Susie, when she always feels like she knows the best thing to say. It’s hardly ever a good time when the best thing to say happens to be nothing at all.
The scent of the central cauldron hits Susie’s nose before the sight. If anyone else but Ralsei were manning it, the scent would be sickeningly sweet. Though, she knows enough to write it off as classic Ralsei, and from there it’s actually pleasant. Once the cauldron’s in sight, Ralsei advances with a much stronger conviction, placing his hand on the aged iron exterior. He doesn’t even need to pay a thought to the process, as the opening ruptures with an artifacted boom, a porcelain teapot taking flight above them both. Terror grips Ralsei the instant Susie looks up with her mouth open, and with instinctive, decisive action, he takes a leap above Susie, paws only barely slipping around the ornate blue markings on the circular center just as her jaws clamp shut.
Her eyes, in contrast, open to their full width. Ralsei’s paws impact the ground, stumbling from the awkward position such a leap places him in upon landing. The teapot’s interiors were shaken, but otherwise remained undamaged. Settling the shifting weight of flowing liquid, he reaches stability, with Susie frozen at the stunning interception. He humorously feigns anger, ears settled at his head’s sides flapping up at the speed of his turn, teapot put into a frenzy all over again.
“S-Susie! This was for us both!”
“Heh, look who’s finally acting ‘selfish’?”
What panic can do to a person is amazing, Ralsei thinks to himself. He doesn’t grin at his improvement, though. Susie’s proud, he knows, with that smile that usually vanquishes any doubts that had formed in his mind. He also knows, though, that fulfilling his purpose is more important than what anyone, including the other two heroes, think of him. Susie’s pride won’t matter when she has to manage the paperwork of Castle Town herself. It won’t matter when she feels a twinge of boredom, having to learn how to cauldron cook.
He has failed in doing what is most important to the world; tending to the two true heroes. The teapot rumbles along with his hands. When his tears finally vanish from his face, they flow right back on. Water acts as his eternal eyeshadow, and just when Susie takes notice, the grip on the sides of her tea gives out, pulled to the ground before she can make a desperate dive like one of her best friends. The teapot collides with a mixture of the ground and Ralsei’s lower right paw, shattering, splattering tea that will be a nightmare to clean up. As a footnote, porcelain shards mark and, if the angle is just right, embed themselves into the white fluff. The pressurized magic that should stay within leaves, projectiling out orange inner juices like his foot had turned into an ornamental fountain.
Susie, with stress running high, can’t decide whether to step further in or backwards, but Ralsei only has one direction to go: to the ground. He doesn’t give a tender screech, but instead a soul-crushing call of pain, hands rushing onto his foot, with his work outfit preventing any further damages. Ralsei breaks through his tears of now-physical pain to call out to Susie, genuine worry on his face.
“S-Susie, are you–”
“HOLY SHIT, I-I’LL GET SOME DARK CANDY! STAY THERE!”
At maximum speed, she flees the scene, ignoring the tea that he got all over her outfit, in a dash to make sure Ralsei wouldn’t have to suffer this damage any longer.
“Susie.. are you… alright…”
He finishes, softly crying, the pain dulling out. All he has to do is not move.
See? She cares about you, even when you mess up like you did. I mean, we do have to market towards a pretty specific audience now that we have your foot getting sliced up on the page…
“I know.” He states plainly, too focused on his foot to be up for conversation.
I get it. Rough start. Though, think about it this way. People absolutely eat up hurt/comfort stuff.
“Huh?” Ralsei asks, wondering if Susie could arrive any sooner. Yes, I can see that as well. “S-Sorry…” No need to apologise for thinking, Ralsei. So, hurt/comfort. A character gets hurt, another character comforts them. Usually it’s emotional pain… I guess sickfics do exist, though. Which are like–
Oh, shit, back on topic. I’ll tell you later, Rals. Susie, without a hint of caution, steps into the mixture of porcelain daggers, mineral dust, and wasted tea, clutching the sweet, frilled ball with the shell already discarded. Crouching down to match her wounded friend, she claws one of his tense fists open with ease to place the candy inside.
“RALSEI, EAT IT!”
He has a moment of hesitation, which is a moment too long to see him in clear pain. Maybe she thinks he’ll never eat it because he believes he doesn’t deserve it. A very reasonable assumption on her part. Whatever the reason, she places the tips of her fingers and her skin-rending nails upon Ralsei’s wrist.
She doesn’t even mean to, but through her panic she can’t help but shout at Ralsei, “EAT THE FUCKING–”
There’s hardly any resistance. Being as loud as she was turned out to be entirely unnecessary, as his hand rockets up to his mouth, forcing the darker candy in. It dissolves like the Cyber World’s cotton candy, clearly not much more than a mass of sugar. Within that fleeting moment of the sphere dispersing into pure energy, his health is restored, yet the bleeding only partially ceases. It’s even less effective as a painkiller, and not effective at all for the several ravaging blows that have been dealt to the corpse of his ego, were it ever alive.
Beneath everyone’s notice, a single drop of orange bile falls from Ralsei’s wrist, like a new tear shed.
Ralsei knew she was trying her best, but she hurt sometimes. Every time he spoke with her, it was a roll of the dice, and any interaction could be the one that harms him. At least she cared about him, he thought, for more than his role in the prophecy, as more than just the fan-favorite.
The point where claws had embedded into his wrist bleeds no longer.
Susie gives the candy a second to work its magic, then sighs. She steps to Ralsei’s side, placing herself firmly in his peripheral view, crouching down next to him. He can’t stop looking forward, though. It made him sick to watch, truly, and maybe that was part of the appeal. A form of morbid curiosity of what a real wound looked like, or as punishment for making Susie do so much for him. It doesn’t stop her from addressing him anyways, calmer this time.
“Are you fine with me picking you up?”
That’s enough to make Ralsei stop looking at his paws, and now that his eyes are off it, he doesn’t even think of looking back. “...S-Sure!” He responds with a joy-plated, strained tone, through tears fueled by physical pain rather than the emotional kind.
Susie wasn’t in the mood to lecture him on the importance of valuing what he wanted, and began with laying the whole of her right arm behind him, partially eclipsing his back. Cautiously, she crept her offhand down to just above her ankles, hand shaking while she tries to get as close to the injuries as possible without causing any extra harm. Ralsei winces in anticipation, for a spike of pain from an embedded shard cutting through an extra bileway that never comes. It burns regardless, and even with the best precautions, her textured purple skin was stained with the occasional splotch of orange.
With her standing up, without even a sound of exertion or a grunt at the effort taken, Ralsei’s head lifts into the air, his feet soaring even higher. The sudden rise makes his head spin, makes it start spinning and never stop, like the tense air has entered through his bleeding paws and into everything rational about his mind.
In his daze, he believes Susie says, “I’m bringing you to my bed. Don’t say you’re fine, don’t work on the wall, can’t believe I have to say that. Keep your feet above your chest, and…” It felt terrible for her to say this, “Try not to focus on the pain.”
Ralsei felt a shiver pass through him, and nodded his head. “Th-Thanks, Susie…”
She passes a blind eye to his response, the cold air rushing past him like a mild wind chill on his body and a hail of double-edged razors on his paws.
Susie, though, has a proposition of her own while she begins to ascend the stairs. “Sorry, Ralsei.”
Ralsei gets struck with a moment of cognitive dissonance while he plays back the words in his head. It could be a sorry of pity, which would be reasonable, but the tone of it seemed closer to an apology. It’s not like she was the one to drop the teapot, that was all him. He’s already thought about apologizing, but he already knows the exchange that would happen if he did. The whole musical number of telling him he shouldn’t apologize, that it’s unreasonable, bringing nothing to back up her claim. So what does she exp–
“I shouldn't have joked about… I mean, it’s a sensitive topic,” Susie rudely interrupts.
Before his thoughts can consume him, he responds, “You’re fine! Th-Thanks for your care.”
“Was I supposed to just leave you there?” She snickers, hauling him to the second floor. Through his skyward eyeglasses, all he can see is the monotonous ceiling, and with his foot gushing across Susie’s jacket, he doesn’t think about painting it.
Susie reaches the door to her room at a blistering speed for her, and ages upon ages for Ralsei, twisting and relocating herself in order to set her hand on the doorknob when both of her arms were full of fluffy boy. She follows up with a careful shove through the doorframe, pulling Ralsei through without so much as the slightest pressure on his foot, avoiding the many things that threaten the mental pain of hearing him screech again.
The unfinished stone wall in the backdrop initially draws Ralsei’s gaze, yet Susie’s bed narrowly snatches it away. It was designed by him to be up to the standards of a world-saving hero, and now, he’ll have to rest on it for a purpose outside of testing. The bed, hell, the whole room’s contrast was a stroke of genius. Just even being in here…
“Susie… m-my blood will–”
“If you’re going to say something other than ‘melt you’, I don’t care. You’re laying down until you can walk again.”
He tells himself, it’s what she wants him to do. It’s a gift, why should he reject it? If she wants him to be happy, why shouldn’t he be? He can think he should be happy, but can he feel like he should be? Should he? He doesn’t have enough time or focus to follow that philosophical trail much longer.
Susie pauses in front of the bed, considering how resting him down safely is going to work, exactly. Keeping his feet elevated is simple. He dropped the teapot on the front of his foot, so odds are, his ankles are clear of any fragments and can just rest on the stand. He might want the blanket, though, even if he won’t speak up about it.
She’ll set him down and worry about the blanket later. As much as her adrenaline was assisting her in preventing Ralsei further pain, she can only hold him in one position for so long.
“I’m laying you down a little closer to the end. Keep it elevated, ‘kay?”
“I understand…”
Regardless of whether or not you’re tending to his injuries or to his mind, it turns out that Ralsei must be handled with care, Susie’s found. Positioning him over her bed, her arms lower in sync, naturally leading his back to fall to rest first. With an uncharacteristic precision Susie had never known she could act with, his paws lower on top of the bedrest, landing on the thin sliver perfectly upright. She pulls the pillow from the front of the bed to right above his head, playfully pressing it against his horns, harmlessly rubbing it against the furthest point from his injuries while she waits for a response.
Without acknowledging the absurdity of her actions, and after a moment’s hesitation, his neck allows the pillow to flow under it, before resting back down.
“There,” Susie remarks, resting her arms loosely at her sides, finding that carrying anyone around can be quite draining. “You alright like this? I’m gonna have to head out into town for some kinda bandage, water… fuck, let me remember how this works…”
“I’m… glad you know how. At all.”
“I used to get scraped up a ton, I’ve got practice. Some accidents, some fights.”
“F-Fights…? I say this a lot, but you’re really brave, Susie!”
She turns her back to Ralsei, beginning to exit the room, his comment interrupting her mental plotting of her route through Castle Town. Susie’s head turns back to face Ralsei, bringing much of her body with it, revealing the surface tension binding water to one of her eyes.
“The way they went down? I wasn’t. Thanks for changing that.”
She steps out through the sole exit, closing it behind her, and leaving Ralsei to fend for himself, if just for a few minutes.
“...Susie?” He calls out, hoping to drag her back in, but she–
“Yeah?” Susie asked, with the door cracking open just wide enough to let the dialogue between them carry through, unimpeded by any barriers to comprehension but their own minds.
“Please be quick.”
“Will do.”
Once again, she disappears from his sight. Can’t believe she actually heard that, by the way.
“She was probably expecting me to say something.”
Mhm. So, continuing where I left off. A sickfic is just a form of hurt/comfort where the ‘hurt’ part is a little more literal. Usually it’s like a nasty cold though, not something genuinely agonizing. Can I compliment your acting, by the way?
“... Uhm, sure?”
Let’s see… Well, you’re not gushing tears more than you’re gushing blood, so that’s a plus. The audience tends to get bored of that rather quickly. Plus, your arc’s going smoothly!
“I… Mister, can you explain… everything?”
First, it’s ma’am. Second, no. Mutli-paragraph exposition dumps aren’t fun to read.
Ralsei opts to change the subject for now. “... The bed was a nice suggestion! It’s like hugging Kris…”
Anytime! Thanks for being my star.
Much to what I’d assume is Ralsei’s pleasure, double-digits of silence are passed between us, him, the both of us, and maybe even you, counting down the seconds until Susie’s return.
“‘You’?”
The audience, or I guess, an audience member. What I was talking about earlier. Really, it’s them that create the world, within their own head. I just ship the parts and provide the instruction manual. It’s up to them to construct it on the other end. Do you want to say hi?
Reading it as a command, Ralsei manages to choke out a few words. “H-Hi! I’m Ralsei! Great… knowing you’re looking over me!”
I mean, they already know who you are. Before you apologize, it’s fine. Maybe they find it endearing, even! Anyways, before Susie comes back, I’m going to need to hurt you a little more to make up for having someone to speak to. Get in any last things you want to say.
His tears now flow with dual purpose, in double time. It’s like the water spreads into his heart, choking out the pumps and slowing its function, packing it with dread. To this horrid feeling, he can only say one thing in response.
“... Th-Thank you…”
Anytime.
The cold, spindly fingers of loneliness lift from his head and extend down the rest of him. The intolerable cold up against a bright-burning pain on his foot, from the way his imperceptible movements grind the residing ceramic fragments. Maybe ‘up against’ is the wrong word, though. They just make one another worse within an echochamber of his emotions.
If you’ve never experienced it, the feeling of not receiving help when you need it most is indescribable. He knows Susie will be coming back soon, even if ‘soon’ is all he has to go off of. But, within this lonely torment, where a few minutes out of sight can feel like hours and the time it takes for the sun to fall, and at last rise feeling like a century? Such a variable time span would be intolerable for anyone but the impeccably-willed Ralsei, a paladin of his cause, suffering to help no one.
He forces a smile, almost rending the muscle from his jaws like tearing a sheaf of papers from someone’s hand. Trying to convince others he’s okay, you don’t need a psychology degree to see through the ruse.
There is something special about being injured. It doesn’t matter what you wear, or what species you are, because when people see you, they’re going to notice your wound, first and foremost. Yet, Ralsei still puts on a show, smiling for no one that matters to him. He looks momentary freedom in the eyes and firmly declines, which might be the only thing he declines at all.
His entire existence is to please, and when he can’t work physically, the best he can do is keep morale up, he figures. The only question is whose, and the only wrong answer is his.
Susie’s still away, so I’m guessing she doesn’t interrupt me only when I need her to. She’s in no hurry to take care of Ralsei, clearly. Or, Ralsei ponders, supplies for traditional wounds like this are hard to come by in an idyllic place where harm rarely occurs, and harm that does occur can be cured with a wave of the hand.
However, Ralsei quickly removes any ill thoughts towards Susie from his mind. Even if she took a few minutes, a few hours longer, it didn’t matter because she was helping. She didn’t need to. At any moment, she could abandon the idea entirely and exit through the main entrance of Castle Town and he should harbor no negative thoughts towards her. He should.
Yet, with each passing of one of those minutes, and certainly if one of those hours reached its conclusion without her return, his opinion of her needlessly sours. The toll this isolated suffering takes on him, even if she’s entirely selfless in trying to take care of him like this, it’s hard to forgive–
Susie practically charges into her bedroom, barely stopping to open the door. If she could without ruining Ralsei’s hard work, she would have run through the thing like a battering ram, and odds are it’d work. It’s a miracle she can run that fast while carrying the shallow wooden bowl within a single arm’s reach, overflowing, rattling in time with her sprinting. She tries to tone down her voice while she brings herself to a halt, though from how fast-paced her search for a proper first-aid kit had been, desperate to help her friend, the energy that lingers is unavoidable.
“Have a nice haul. Pouch of water, bandages, gauze, something to keep the shards in. Castle Town's healthcare system’s better than I thought.”
“... Susie… d-did you get any soap?”
“No. Do, uh, glass cuts need that?”
“I think so?”
“I’ll do what I can for now, then I’ll check it out once I get back to the light world. Are there… even infections here?”
Susie takes the lull to set down the bowl of assorted objects onto the bed, before it immediately tilts, sending a roll of bandages and a can of tea overboard. Without reacting, she begins to unpack her hastily-constructed first aid kit. Ralsei can’t see what’s being unloaded, but unfortunately I’ve already let the surprise slip.
“Y-You… got me tea?”
“It’s the canned stuff, but I thought it was better than nothing. I was thinking, after I get your paw wrapped up, we could still at least try to do something here? Split some iced tea, I have some cool shorts to show y– nevermind, actually.”
He would laugh at her slow realization, were it not for her mind being more concerned with how she still wanted to hang out with him. Ralsei wasn’t on the clock, apparently. She didn’t have some time to kill and wanted to spend it with him. She wanted to spend some time with him and set aside some time to kill.
“Susie… I don’t just want to say ‘thanks’ again, haha…”
“Then don’t. Think of it as, like, the money they give you if you’re injured on the job.”
Ralsei slides his shoulders onto the pillow, lifting his head to make unreciprocated eye contact, smiling for someone even while the porcelain throbs within its jagged cuts.
“So, after we finish this… we’re having some tea, then…”
“Honestly whatever you’re down for. Least I can do.”
Ralsei begins to prepare how exactly he’s going to get Susie to let slip on what she really wants, but… yeah, no. He thinks he deserves this… maybe. He could be taking advantage of Susie’s generosity. He knows, though, that he can’t go a second without questioning his morality, raising the bar of ‘deserving,’ tormenting himself more than he thinks he torments others. So just this once he’ll agree that, yes, he deserves this.
“How about… I could read Lord of the Hammer to you! There should be a copy of the first book on one of the shelves…”
“Fine with that.”
Notice how it’s not ‘that’s great.’ It can be assumed that she’s acting out of pity for Ralsei's injury. He thinks, though, she’s the type to speak up when she’s not enjoying something. Maybe SHE enjoys seeing HIM happy, the same flavor of feeling he receives as a reward for providing his best service. Angel, why was he able to concoct such perfect explanations for terrible thoughts like this? He was the lesser hero, long since proven on both the field of battle and in conversation. Kris and Susie were the inseparable duo and it’s Ralsei’s job to work from the shadows, quite literally, without anticipating appreciation or care.
With tears powered by inward emotion, he dejectedly tells Susie, “Only i-if you want to, though…”
He was confident just moments before, Susie thought, so why did he double back without so much as a word exchanged between them, other than the most passive yet affirming sentence she could have provided? As much as she enjoys Ralsei’s presence and friendship, speaking with him was like passing through a minefield.
He feels the need to speak again whilst he shivers, despite the vast amounts of fluff he possesses.. “Susie… I-I’m sorry…”
He speaks like he’s on the verge of tears, even while they already flow. A moment is all the time that passes before Susie can no longer put off stepping in.
“Let’s get your foot fixed first. I… really don’t know what to tell you.”
Before she could elaborate, before Ralsei could ask her to elaborate, she brings the unpolished bowl next to where his paws rest. Bile had began to pool around his feet on the banister, surface tension binding it together into a sickening pond, with each drop placed within it tumbling off either side.
“... Right now, we need to get this under some kind of control. I don’t have anything for the smaller pieces, so I’m gonna remove the ones I can get with my hands. Try and stay where you are. Might hurt.”
Had he disappointed her? Ralsei ignores the idea and the implications it brings, should it be true or false, instead bracing while Susie dumps some water onto her hands. She tries to get as effective of a handwash as possible, though she knows that she doesn’t have the soap for it to be any more than a futile waste of resources. She shrugs, her tone as close to nervous as Susie could get.
“Better than nothing. Ready?”
“I’m fine, Susie. U-Uhm, ready!”
Susie’s done trying to console his emotions for now. Does she really care for him? Ralsei thinks I should shut the fuck up. Message received, don’t try it a second time.
The first shard hurts far more heading out.
Mind dark, unable to even think.
Unable to even distract himself.
Nerves yelp.
The deepest skin cleaves in half.
The muscles try and twitch,
Yet he can’t even move.
He can’t even breathe without my go-ahead.
But that would be boring.
Just like this suffering, boring.
That’s why the audience isn’t with us.
Just you and me.
A second shard is pulled from your leg.
You are not permitted to feel anything else
But the mind-numbing burning.
Nerves yelp.
The deepest skin cleaves in half.
The muscles try and twitch,
Yet you can’t even move.
And I bet
At moments like this
You wish you couldn’t breathe.
The final shard tumbles from Susie’s palm into the shallow bowl, specks of embedded blood joining the wading pool encompassing the sunken landmasses. From the rushing pain of newly-unveiled vessels making contact with the chilly air, his mouth lets slip a tormented yelp, placing the rest of its energy into hyperventilating as some form of distraction from the renewal of his agony. Susie, seemingly relaxed, flinches at the noise while her eyes return to her earlier nervousness.
“Ralsei, dude, you were taking that like a champ until then, heh.”
“I-I was?” He squeaks out, proving the victor against his nerves for a moment.
“Yeah, you know, eyes shut. Maybe a whimper but nothing much.”
“Whimpering… what?”
“Uh… noises. I don’t know, what’s got you so interested, dude? Were you out?”
Ralsei takes a second to think it over, then nods. Technically it counts. Susie takes the precariously-balanced bowl into her non-dominant hand, speaking with the fluffball all the while.
“... Convenient. Hope you’re still dealing with it well, with you back to reality and all. Anyways, could you move a bit forward for me?”
Dragging himself across Susie’s bed, he pulls himself forward, sinking into the new cushion as his knees curl. This doesn’t last for long, though, Susie makes sure of it.
“Slip your feet off the bedstand.”
Though they remain in burning agony, there was no element of randomness. Each movement wouldn’t be the one to send it over the edge. He feels far more ‘comfortable’ sliding his paws forward to rest in the air, while Susie slides the bowl directly beneath them. From her supplies, she grasps the remaining water, and pours. It glides across and barrels through Ralsei’s fur, touching the skin, purging the cuts of whatever infection it may have garnered within its brief time in the open air. The congealed stream disintegrates into strips of fluid, then to the occasional droplet when Susie retracts.
She sounds almost disappointed when she speaks, “About as good as we’re getting. Tell me if anything’s bothering you.”
Susie tosses the leatherlike pouch aside, along with whatever last drops remain within. Staring at the threads she brought for a moment or two before remembering which was which, she grasps the roll of gauze, bringing the loose cloth closer to where she needs it while she sizes up Ralsei’s wounds.
With Susie so deep in concentration, he interrupts, stating, “I… n-nevermind.”
“I mean, nothing’s too stupid to say in front of me, dude.”
“O-Okay… what did you mean when you said… you don’t know what to tell me?”
Even for him, his tone sounds timid, like he believes the very question warrants a slap to the face. For all he knows, it very well may. Though, the lack of her hand moving at high speeds towards him and, instead, a precise extraction of cloth from the spool makes him believe otherwise. But at the same time, Susie almost seems defeated at his curiosity, if not ashamed of him, then ashamed of herself.
“Ralsei… I just don’t think I can help you.”
His eyes share his excitement to reassure her. “S-Susie…! You’re doing amazingly! All the preparation, a–”
“Not the wound. I think I’m doing pretty well there, you’re the judge, though.”
She pauses her speech for a minute to drape the strand of cloth across the centers of his foot’s pain, the wounds proper.
“Like… mentally. I’ve been trying to get you to see what me and Kris see, all the good stuff about you and… how you’re just as important as us. That you don’t gotta be acting like you’re below us, like you don’t deserve kindness and shit! But I’m out of ideas on how to make that happen.”
The gauze instantly sours to a deep orange upon pressing against his paw, as if the cloth couldn’t contain any more bile within itself. Susie knows it should still hold regardless. She doesn’t know about Ralsei, though. Ensuring it's firm enough to stay in place, she begins to unroll the nearby bandage, measuring out the tan barrier to the applied thread.
“Every time we try and tell you that you’re real to us… that you matter, it’s just the same 5 things you say that shut the whole thing down. And I know that it’s going to be like that pretty much forever unless something big happens or we get someone down here that knows shit about psychology, but I can’t just do nothing! Hurts seeing you like this, dude… foot a little further up.”
On a multi-second delay, Ralsei cautiously lets his right paw hang off the bed, with Susie having far less time wasted before spiraling the bandage around his ankle. With the extent of the injury, practically the entirety of the affected site needs to be covered. It leaves Ralsei plenty of time alone with his thoughts, which, he believes, would be a blessing. Regardless, he responds to Susie the best he can.
“...W-Well, how can I stop?”
“Stop… treating yourself so poorly?”
“Oh! I’ll try, b–”
“No, no, as in, do you want to know how to prioritize yourself sometimes?”
His mouth opens like he was going to continue the flow of the conversation, yet nothing leaves. You know, you can say yes. It’s–
“Y-Yeah!”
So, you’re interrupting–
“Aight. We’ll work on paying attention to what you need first. So, like, the common example of this is food, but…”
“I don’t need that?”
“Yeah. So, respect your other physical stuff. Like pain. If you’re in pain, tell someone.”
“Susie, I think I’m in pain.”
The full-toothed smile that spreads on Ralsei’s face conveys that it’s a joke, even with the deadpan delivery. Susie returns it without even trying, less amused by his humor than glad to see him happier.
“Like that. Then you gotta pay attention to emotional stuff. Emotional needs, I think.”
She finishes the complete spiral, letting the edge’s adhesive properly seal the bandage in place around his paw. Listening to Susie speak helps him destress, and distracts from the still-embedded fragments.
“Looking at yourself and thinking, am I… gonna go insane if I need to lay another goddamn stone on this wall?”
“I should be fine to– or, wait…”
“Not with that foot, right. Want your tea now?”
Ralsei had alrea–
“If that’s alright!”
“I’ll get your book, too. On the shelf, you said?”
“It… should be the only thing on there.”
Before Susie brings the book forth, she takes one of the grey cans of nondescript tea she managed to pick up from the cafe, and tries to crack the lid open via the intended method. With the lack of dexterity her claws allow, and generally not having much need to pop it open this way, it takes some 10 seconds before she passes the now open container to Ralsei.
“Thanks… I was thinking, Susie, what we’re working on, it’s important! But some people might prefer me when I… don’t want things.”
“Oh, well, those people are fucking losers. I mean, there’s probably a better way to say it, but it does well enough.”
“What if it’s someone with… I guess, ‘power’ over you?”
“It doesn’t matter who it is, you hold your ground. I’ve met people like that, more common than you’d think. And even if they have some kind of control over you, the second you can put up some kinda resistance to their bullshit, they shut up real fast.”
Her fanged smile is enough to convey she’s speaking from the heart, excited to inspire resistance against whoever may keep Ralsei down. She picks up her allotted can, and peels the metal with her yellowed teeth, creating a jagged, open-top cup with a horrid screech.
“Is there even anyone in the Dark World like that? Anything that Kris’s been doing?”
In contrast with ripping open the can like an animal, Susie savors the insides, with the aluminum being too weak to pierce her lips. Ralsei drinks with a similar grace, deciding he had already dirtied the–
“No, no, I was just thinking. In case anyone like that enters my life.”
“I understand wanting to be prepared, yeah.”
Susie, almost as careful as when extracting the porcelain shards from Ralsei’s foot, sets the can on the flattest part of the bedstand she can find, before stretching her hand and bringing herself up from the bedside. She didn’t know how she’d missed it, upon the upmost shelf, Lord of the Hammer Vol. 1 sat as clear as day. The pink spine was first to draw in the eye before spotting the green cover, along with the golden depiction of the three heroes that adorned it.
She needed to duck to even set her hand on it. It wasn’t a light read by any stretch of the word, if she had to guess, the whole book was some 400 pages of, in the greater scheme of the series, exposition. Ralsei speaks from the center of the bed, a beaming smile lighting up his face.
“You might have some spoilers, and it’s slow at parts, b-but he was really creative with how he thought we’d be!”
“No need to explain yourself, dude. I trust you on this. Besides, if this series’s half as awesome as anything we’re experienced FOR REAL, then it’s worth taking a look.”
Susie opens the book to the first page, while Ralsei switches his tea to his weaker hand, the pain in his feet almost fading away from the simple distraction. He grins, not out of any form of enjoyment, but as though he’d gained a great victory, like he had subdued an insurmountable adversary, when in actuality he just turned heel and ran.
He pulls his shoulders up onto the pillow to properly read as the book enters his hand, starting at the very first words on the cover’s interior.
“‘Dedicated to the Third Hero. When you’re out partying and the music’s awful, check who’s at the punch bowl.’”