A/N: Written for the CoAi Mysterium fanzine back on June. You can download it for free in coai. itch .io/mysterium-fanzine
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"Breathe."
The word that was meant as a demand comes off sounding like a plea, ragged and desperate as the subject twists his body uncomfortably, the hard edges of his leather restraints painting deeper shades of purple in his paper-white skin.
Shiho casts an inquisitive look at the creature tightly strapped to her examination chair. The once tall and menacing figure is now curled up on his shoulders, his dark disheveled hair falling over his face and hiding his eyes away. A subtle quivering has taken over his scar-struck body, turning his breathing into erratic, strained puffs of air.
Pushing back the urge to sweep the bangs off his face so she can meet his gaze, she manages to swallow through the knot in her throat and ask in a somewhat calm tone.
"I beg your pardon?"
The creature lets out a faint groan, slowly raising his head to look at her with those mystifying blue eyes that draw her in like a moth to the fire. She clutches her writing board tighter to her chest, his voice broken velvet in her ears.
"When you hold your breath like that, your blood— it rushes like mad. I can feel your blood pressure going up."
"You can feel it?"
He hazards a slightly condescending smile through his discomfort.
"Does that bother you?"
Shiho holds his stare for a long second before pushing her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose.
Deep breaths.
She scribbles something intelligible into her notebook.
"What else can you feel?"
He seems to consider for a brief second if he should answer at all, then purses his lips in a dismissive pout before elaborating.
"Your heartbeat. Every vein pulsing in your body… the surge of blood that rushes through your neck— and now you're blushing." He observes with amusement, the smile now turning into a smirk. His blue eyes shine with mirth, curiosity written all over his features. "Alas, you aren't very qualified to be doing this, are you? Or is that why you're here… did they handpick you to test me?"
She straightens her back, her pen furiously carving her embarrassment into her papers. If for whatever reason he's trying to rile her up, he'll have to try harder.
"You're deluding yourself, Kudo-san," the scientist simply answers.
Inexplicably, he chuckles. A resigned, tortured sound that's devoid of amusement.
"And you're either terribly cruel or incredibly naive to ignore the imminent repercussions. You're a walking feast in front of a starving predator, Miyano-san. This can't end well for either of us."
"Well, it won't for you, if you don't cooperate," she reminds him coldly. He sure seems confident for someone who's tied up to a chair with tubes coming out of them. "So I suggest you cut the bullshit right now. Your intimidation game is pitiful, if that's what you're trying to do."
"Yet you're still blushing. I wonder why."
Her lips purse into a frown.
"It's called aggravation."
Shinichi tilts his head as a lopsided smile spreads lazily on his lips.
"Look at that, you're actually cute when you lie. Who would have thought?."
The strawberry blonde rolls her eyes, taking a deep breath that turns into a sigh.
"How's the synthetic blood working?"
The sudden change of topic seems to work in her favor, she notices as he makes a face of absolute disgust, all condescension gone.
"Horribly, thanks for asking. Can we go back to chicken blood before I die of food poisoning?"
Her eyes wander from his messy dark hair to the dull-white skin of his face, the dark circles under his eyes augmented by his hollow cheekbones. She concedes.
"You do look terrible, I'll give you that. "
He snorts in good humor and deadpans.
"Gee. Thanks for noticing."
And the simple gesture shouldn't make her want to laugh in response— it's unprofessional and frankly speaking, a bit heartless of her. But the man has always managed to trigger the most unexpected reactions from her since he was brought into her lab half a year ago. She should know better than to break the unspoken rule number one— she should know better than to get attached to her test subject.
Shiho nibbles her lower lip, trying to ward off the intrusive thoughts as she doodles some words into her notes.
"But we can't give up this early, no. I'm sorry, but you'll just have to endure a little longer before we can evaluate changing your treatment."
A pained, angry expression distorts his face.
"It's futile. You know it. There's no cure."
"We can't be sure unless we try."
"You can't treat this like some sort of illness!"
She closes her notebook and looks at him with genuine curiosity.
"You don't think you're sick? Kudo-san, you're barely human anymore."
He breaks into a derisive laugh, so loud and sudden it takes her by surprise.
"Well, so are you," he wheezes, bitterness dripping off every word. "We aren't that different, you know. Or are you going to pretend that you don't know what happens here, what they do to us? Where's your humanity that you speak so highly of? So full of yourself, when you don't even have the guts to stand by when they cut me open. You aren't any different from them or from me, Miyano-san. So you might as well choose a side."
The accusation burns like hot steel on flesh, her conscience charred with guilt and embarrassment. She's quick to brush those thoughts aside, telling herself she shouldn't fall for his mind games.
"Choose a side?" She scoffs, finding the thought nothing short of outrageous. "What do you mean by that?"
He leans as forward as his cuffs allow him to, his voice a solemn whisper.
"Let me go. I can protect you."
She forgets how to breathe, which is maybe the reason why his face twists into a painful wince. Gathering herself, she feigns nonchalance.
"Tempting. I'm afraid I shall decline your offer, though. You see, eternal damnation isn't currently on my list."
Their eyes meet for the longest couple of seconds before he lets himself fall back into his seat with a resigned sigh. However, the daunting smirk never leaves his lips.
"Eternal damnation, huh?" He chortles with levity. "What was that about science and cures again? You can't have both. And for the record, I wasn't asking for your soul."
"It was a rhetorical statement." She snaps, irritated by his condescension. "Besides, if you really are what they say… why would you still have a heartbeat?"
"I'm cursed, not dead."
"Well, I'd like very much to un-curse you, then. If you would kindly stop complaining."
Shinichi laughs again, and the sound makes her insides twirl with an unknown feeling she's starting to get used to.
"If breaking the curse is what you want, shouldn't you try doing it the old-fashioned way?" He has the gall to joke, cheeky attitude and all.
Shiho's face turns as red as her hair, and the man in the chair anguishes at her reaction— but that's his own damn fault for making such outlandish jokes! She raises her chin, shooting him a disdainful, evaluating look.
"Last time I checked, you resembled a bat, not a frog."
"Ouch."
"...And for the record, I wasn't offering."
"Your soul?" He grins brazenly. "Or a kiss?"
"Neither," she remarks curtly.
Although, judging by the way his laughter starts a turmoil of fluttering butterflies in her heart, she's starting to suspect either offer would inevitably lead to the other.
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A/N: [Shakes piggy bank] Unironically pls donate to my ko-fi momocicerone so i might one day NOT have to work two shifts , /sob/ thanks (or, reviews are very appreciated)