The village smelled like earth and woodsmoke. Fresh bread and wet dirt. Nothing like Germa’s sterile halls.

But that’s not why Ichiji was tense.

I could see it in his jaw, the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his fingers kept twitching near the hem of his shirt like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Like they’d never learned to fidget, but something new inside him wanted to.

He shouldn’t have emotions. None of them should, and yet, there he was beside me, trying not to look like he was feeling.

I didn’t speak as we walked past the old well, the schoolhouse, the blacksmith’s forge. I didn’t have to.

Because just behind us, about six paces back like the world's most obnoxious perfume, was Niji.

Whistling.

Lazily strolling like he had nowhere better to be. Occasionally chatting up villagers with that charming little fake smile he wore when he wanted people to underestimate him. But every so often, I could feel his eyes flick to us and stay there too long.

“You think he suspects?” I murmured. Ichiji didn’t look at me.
“He suspects something. He always does.”

Of course he does...

We passed a small cart of apples, and a child waved to me. I smiled, automatically, and waved back. Ichiji’s breath hitched. Barely. But I caught it.

“What was that?” I asked under my breath.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve never made that sound before.”

“It’s nothing.”

Uh-huh...

It wasn’t. It was something. Warmth. The flicker of some raw, alien feeling he didn’t have a name for yet.

He was obviously terrified someone would see it. Someone lanky, blue and oozing with douchebaggery.

Just up ahead, we slipped into a narrow path behind the bakery. The baker’s son was off in the fields, and the delivery crates cast deep enough shadows to give us a breath of privacy.

Ichiji’s hand dipped into his pants pocket. Swiftly, he pressed a folded slip of paper into my palm with the precision of a man placing a landmine.

“Coordinates.” He said, voice low. “Where my dad's men have been starting to excavate. No doubt they've already caused structural compromise. It'll be quick, but undetectable.”

This will...

“It'll collapse the island from the inside.” I breathed out in a whisper, the information he had already told me before really starting to hit home for a second time around.

“Yes.”

I swallowed the burn in my throat. “Your father’s-.”

“He’s a monster.”

That stopped me. Ichiji never made statements like that. His voice was never tight like that. I looked at him, and for a half-second, there it was.

A flash of something in his face. Guilt. Regret. Fury that wasn’t cold or calculated. Just real.

There's something unsettling about him acting human...

And then, of course, Niji appeared. Right behind us, rounding the corner with a crooked smile and an apple he’d definitely not paid for in his hand.

“Well, well,” He sang, head turning from my face to Ichiji’s too-wide stance. “this looks private~”

“We’re discussing the wedding.” Ichiji said flatly. “You’re interrupting.”

“Oh no.” Niji grinned, his teeth looking sharper somehow. “I’m supervising. Don’t you remember? You get strange when you’re unsupervised.”

Ichiji turned to face him. “Leave.”

“Why? I like it here. It’s quaint. She’s cute. You’re twitchy. What’s not to enjoy?” Niji truly was the shit-stirrer extraordinar, but this time felt different. It was like he was trying to tease out something specific.

“Do you want to lose your teeth?” My red-headed stalker turned informant snarled, his temper simmering barely under the surface.

Niji raised a brow, then bit into his apple, slowly.
“Getting defensive, aren’t we? Big brother, is that a flare of upset I detect?” He smirked. “Isn’t that…unseemly?”

This is bad. Ichiji needs to reign it in, quick.

Ichiji didn’t reply. He just stared, and for once, just for a second, Niji hesitated. Because whatever he saw behind that mask wasn’t something he understood.

Not yet.

But I did.

“Let’s go.” I said, slipping the paper into my sleeve like it was just a note from a friend. Ichiji followed me without a word.

Niji stayed behind, watching us go.

And this time, he wasn’t smirking.

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I didn’t cry. Not for this.

I read the note again, each line cold as the stone pressed to my spine as I sat beneath my window.

Initial tunneling underway near the western ridge. Veins shallow. Aeternite unstable. Further excavation will collapse the bluff. Damage will spread toward the village. Projected casualties high. Father ordered acceleration. No delays.

He had kept his word.

The note was proof.

Proof that Ichiji had upheld his end of the bargain, just like he promised when I had threatened to reject him again.

It had nearly killed the both of us.

I hadn't known that fated bonds worked like that. That denying them once was enough to unravel everything inside the other. He hadn’t begged, not at first, but I saw it in him. A prince who never flinched suddenly on his knees, gasping and begging. Not rage. Not pride. Something else. Something terrifying.

Need.

And I couldn’t bear it, so I took it back. I made him a deal. If he gave me the truth, I wouldn’t deny him again. I wouldn’t cut the thread. Not that way, at least.

Well, at least he's keeping his end of the deal, for now...

I stared at the western edge of the almost perfectly sketched map, where the ridge curled like a question mark near the heart of the village. That was where they’d start. Where the veins were shallow and the greed was deeper than the bedrock.

Aeternite didn’t just hum with pressure. It held the island together. If Judge ripped it out, Fell Wilds would fall. Earthquakes. Sinkholes. Landslides. Everything I knew would splinter.

And he didn’t care.

He never had.

I pressed a hand to my chest and let out a shaky breath. The ache wasn’t emotional, not quite. It was biological. Chemical. That cursed bond, rooting itself deeper into my bones every time I thought about him. Him.

Ichiji had known about the plan ever since he was a boy.

He knew exactly what he had been raised for.

And yet it was me who’d been in the dark all this time. almost died when I rejected the bond. Me, who still wasn’t sure if the note in my lap came from guilt, or desperation.

Because no matter what he said, this wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

But now I had something I didn’t have before.

Intel.

Proof.

And a thread to pull.

I stood up slowly and paced to the edge of the room, where the narrow window overlooked the village rooftops below. The wind stirred the candle behind me, casting shadows like hands on the walls.

I didn’t trust Ichiji. I never would. But I could use him.

That was the only way to win.

If he kept feeding me scraps from the inside of his father’s operation, I’d keep the bond intact just enough to keep him breathing. Just enough to keep myself from tearing apart too. Because despite everything, the bond pulled both ways.

I traced the ridge again on the map and began making mental notes.

If I could do something, delay the timeline, sabotage the operation from the inside out, we stood a chance. I knew I had to tell my parents, but I needed more proof, something more concrete, before they would believe me. They viewed Judge like a saint.

Time was running short. Judge wouldn’t wait forever.

But neither would I.

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***I'm making this shit up as I go along.

The convention went well - we made double than last year, and we learned to just prepare as though we'll be vending regardless of whether we get a table or not in case they take us by surprise again xD

I've started uploading this one on A03 finally, too!

Next Time: Interference***