The room was dim, lit only by the late afternoon light seeping through half-drawn curtains. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, but the silence between Mika and Kuro was anything but calm.
Mika stood at the window, his back rigid, fists pressed against the sill. He didn't turn, not even when Kuro shifted awkwardly near the bed, unsure if he should sit or stand.
{He hasn't said a word since we came in.}
[Yeah, probably because he's plotting how to strangle me. F***ing terrifying. And yet, kinda hot. Don't judge me.]
{Elvastia!}
[What? Don't pretend you don't see it. Guy's about two seconds away from unleashing hell on the world because someone dared to hurt you. Can't say I hate that.]
Mika's voice cut through the quiet, sharp and sudden. "You talk too much."
Kuro stiffened. His heart stumbled in his chest. "…Are you talking to me?"
Mika turned slightly, just enough for his pale eyes to catch the light, glinting with cold fire. "Does it matter?"
Elvastia went very still, then muttered—quiet, almost reluctant:[…Okay, f*** this. He can hear me.]
{No, maybe it's just coincidence.}
[Coincidence, my a**. He literally repeated me word for word. I'm not hallucinating—you're not hallucinating. He knows.]
Kuro swallowed, throat dry. "Mika… did you—do you hear… another voice?"
For a moment, Mika didn't answer. His gaze lingered on Kuro, cold but heavy with something else—something unreadable. Finally, he turned fully toward him, his expression carved into controlled calm.
"No," Mika said flatly.
The lie sat heavy in the air.
{…He's lying.}
[No s***. That was the most 'I'm totally lying but you'll never prove it' tone I've ever heard. Damn, your ice prince is sneaky.]
Kuro lowered his eyes, emptiness curling in his chest. He wanted to press further, to demand the truth, but… he didn't. He never did. That same habit from his past life—the one where speaking up only earned him pain—kept his tongue still.
Mika studied him in silence, then spoke, his voice quieter this time. "Don't… ever say you're nothing again."
Kuro blinked, startled. "…But I—"
"Don't." Mika's tone was harsh, but beneath it, the faintest thread of care trembled, hidden deep.
Elvastia muttered in Kuro's head:[Holy f***. I think he's scarier when he cares. Someone hold me.]
Kuro almost laughed, but the sound caught in his throat. The emptiness didn't vanish, but Mika's words pressed against it, like cold hands trying to keep it from swallowing him whole.
For the first time, Kuro wondered if Mika's fury wasn't aimed at others… but at the ghosts of Kuro's past that still haunted him.