I hadn't been told someone loved me in six years. Until now, it had always been something I wanted, but curled into his arms I realize how much I truly craved it. My body begins quaking and tears pour down my face, his words repeating so genuinely in my mind. I missed those words so much, and they came from Fakir of all people.
"Everything will be okay," Fakir murmurs as he holds me in the warmth below the blankets, hushing me and stroking my hair. I clutch onto him tighter, telling him I love him over and over again as the words practically jumble until they're a habit to say. My eyes sewn shut as blue tears stream down my cheeks, unable to really process anything I see. I keep crying and hiccuping out the same three words over and over again
I don't remember falling asleep, although I wake up in Fakir's arms as daylight peers in through the windows. The rays that shine past onto Fakir make him seem like a god, caught in daylights glowing resonation. I begin stroking his cheek with the back of my hand, just staring at all the handsome features and definitions of his face. The olive skin, small freckles dotted over parts of his forehead and cheeks. I don't know how I hadn't noticed those in the time we spent together. They make him feel that much more human in these intimate moments. I close my eyes, pressing our foreheads together as I say those three words once more. This time, Fakir responds.
"I love you too, you dolt," He groans, kissing me softly. I pull away, watching him stretch and moan loudly as the sounds of his joints popping. A strange tingle runs up my spine as he pulls the blankets from off his legs, and I see a familiar outline through his trousers. My eyes are quickly averted as he stands up, his fit body now the source of my eye's sweet tooth.
My stomach rumbles, realizing the mistake of not eating dinner last night and the cramps associated with it. Fakir rolls his eyes as I groan with dissatisfaction at my whining body. I throw myself out of bed, watching him tuck the boner into his waistband, hiding it at least a little better. I giggle and pull open my door, starting down towards the kitchen, half racing him there, half watching him chase after me as he puts his hair up into his loose ponytail. It's cute watching him try and act tough after seeing him so vulnerable for so long.
Food is already set at the table, while Rue and Mytho are halfway done with the eggs and sausage placed out. Before I am fully seated, the food is crammed into my mouth and halfway done. I eat everything in front of me as though I'd never eaten before, wishing I had eaten more last night. No one is really surprised with me at this point as my plate is spotless within minutes of me entering the room. I thank both Mytho and Rue as I stand up to put my plate in the sink. Peering out one of the many windows, I notice how wet everything is as clouds still hang overhead. I've never particularly minded the rain, it's a comforting force, and always brought forth flowers and beautiful shrubs. The kitchen door swings open and I feel a warm pair of arms wrap around me, softly kissing the back of my head.
"You look cute when you wash up." Fakir says as our hips sway in tandem. I smile, as his head perches on my shoulder, hands on my waist as his lips brush against the exposed skin.
"You prefer a stay-at-home kinda girl?" I finish drying off my utensils with a dishrag as Fakir kisses my shoulder.
"I prefer someone to do what they love, but it is nice watching a lady wash up." Fakir takes place in front of the sink. "Mind if I help you?"
I nod, starting to clean all of the rest of dishes. I had always abhorred home chores when I was younger. But with him, I don't particularly mind. It feels reciprocal, pleasant, even natural in this state of mind. My hands dry off every small dish he hands me. Something about the kindness of these short moments makes my heart flutter. The door opens again with Rue holding onto a small letter, addressed to Fakir. He smiles and nods, taking it as he walks out with her. I finish drying off the remaining wet dishes from the small rack by the sink. As I trot towards the door, I notice Fakir's frantic voice on the other side. Lurching away from the door instinctively, I watch him slam it open.
"We have to leave now. I just received word from the Academy that I'm requested back immediately." He grunts, urging me back up to my room. "You need to pack right now." He starts forcing me up the stairs, and I hesitate to really push back. I change into a summer dress so as not to be in my pajamas all day. Beginning to reassemble my clothes and other trinkets into my bag, I feel flustered and concerned, peeking my head out from my door.
"Why do I have to come with you? If it's just an urgent message for you, then I can still-"
"Don't fucking argue with me right now, get everything packed now." He barks, fists clenched as he continues to pace. He already has his bag set by his door, and I slip back into my room, finishing my packing. He seems so tense now, something must really be wrong. As soon as I'm well packed and out of my room, I feel the drag of Fakir's hand on my wrist. "I didn't mean to yell, but it's urgent that we both be there immediately."
I simply nod my head as we make our way out to a carriage that's already stationed out at the front of the yard. I give both Mytho and Rue a hug and kiss goodbye
"Please promise me you'll stay safe," Rue strokes my hair, squeezing me a bit tighter in her hug. I nod my head, and she turns to face Fakir. "And if she can't stay safe, I expect you to protect her at all costs."
Fakir groans, pulling away from Mytho's hug. "I promise nothing will happen to her." Mytho pats both of us on the back, sending us off with teary eyes and a wide smile.
"Both of you just please stay safe."
"I promise I'll keep her safe. No matter what," Fakir smiles at the willowy man before him. They embrace once more, and I do the same with my raven counterpart, holding her closely.
We climb into the carriage, our bags coming in shortly afterwards as we sit on opposite ends from each other. As the door closes and the horse jolts forward, we start off on our journey back.
There's a foreboding silence between Fakir and I. I feel as though I've done something to cause this situation. Staring out the window, I watch the large manor slowly creep out of view, and the thickening greenery of the forest consume the remainder of my vision. It's beautiful out here, but I feel so uneasy even now. I'm left in the dark and I'm scared to ask. Looking over, I notice Fakir staring out the window as well. I wonder what he's thinking. I keep quiet, just listening to the gravel road crunch beneath the wheels and hooves of the carriage. My hand reaches out of the window, feeling the crisp air of the forest. I look over to Fakir, wordlessly asking what's wrong. He perks his head up and sighs, finally acquiescing to my request.
"It's something to do with Wayland. I wasn't given much information other than we are both involved. It's unsafe for him to be around you, but it's my job to follow her orders. I'm sorry." His green eyes are significantly more upset looking. What could they possibly be doing? Were they thinking of revoking his expulsion? I tremble at the thought of having to face him again, being near him at all makes me sick. Even hearing his name feels like a violation. Fakir's other hand cups my cheek, trying to calm me down.
"You won't let anything happen, right?" I murmur, nearly clawing my thigh with my free hand. Fakir kisses my forehead, nodding.
"He won't lay a finger on you if I can help it." There's a long silence between us as I realize that as soon as we enter back into that school, we will have to act how we used to. Distant, brusque, and disinterested in each other's company. The fear of saying anything out of line, anything that might draw suspicion towards us could easily get both of us expelled, or worse. I clutch onto his hand a bit tighter before he pulls me into a tight hug. Here, I'm safe, sitting on his lap, embracing him with every fiber of my person. Nothing can hurt me in this little pocket of time. I squeeze him once more before the carriage stops and sit back in my seat. We're already at the Academy? I peer out my window, staring at the cobblestone streets and well loved buildings in the town.
Fakir exits the carriage first, watching the near empty grounds of the Academy for anything out of the ordinary. As soon as he's finished scanning the grounds, he extends his hand to me. Taking it in my own, I step down from the carriage and stand in front of the looming aura of the Academy as it stares back at me. We both begin heading towards the Headmistresses office with haste.
"Do you think I'm going to be alone with him?"
"It's unlikely, but possible. I don't think the Headmistress is stupid enough to force you into a room with him after what you said, but I have no genuine idea." Fakir sounds hesitant, unsure if even he knows what he can get away with. I feel his hand pull back hard from mine, recoiling from my touch. I rescind as well, trying my hardest to seem disinterested in being near him. Looking through the windows of the school, I notice a familiar gaunt woman pacing back and forth in her office, her white hair in a thick and messy bun. The lines on her face from age and stress were able to be seen from quite a few meters away, and her suit seemed to tighten with each long breath she took. Her head turns out from inside the window to see us both, and I watch her excuse herself from people not visible in the room, starting towards us.
"She knows we're here at least," Fakir groans, starting to run a bit faster to meet up with her. I simply lag behind, staring at them as the two older people meet up, starting a conversation I can't hear. Looking back in the window, I see Wayland's face peering out of the window, a smug grin against his face as he notices me. My stomach drops and my heart seems to stop beating as I can see Antoinette inside as well, both of them snickering as Headmistress Samiel's voice breaks the air.
"Mister Andor, I'm so glad you made it." Her bony fingers wrap over Fakir's shoulder, straining her golden eyes to look at me. "Miss Arima too. We have some unpleasant revelations involving Mister Kellenburg's expulsion." Samiel gulped, ushering us both inside. Fakir nods his head, following after her. The worry in his voice echoes louder than his tone.
"What kind of revelations?" Fakir opens the door leading to the long straight corridor. I feel my stomach begin to ache as Samiel turns to look at me for a brief moment, only to turn back to Fakir and continue.
"Well, his sister has been implying that it may have been consensual, or their relationship had been consensual previously." Samiel is cold now and I watch Fakir physically shiver at the sound of it, stopping in his tracks. Samiel continues. "Miss Kellenburg said she had seen them engaging in private meetings. Their father is here to help sort the matter out."
"They hadn't been seeing each other privately. I know that for certain." Fakir stands outside the door, his eyebrows pressed together and his teeth gritted tightly. Samiel turns to face him, taken aback by his response. She places a shaky hand on her hip.
"And how are you so sure of that, Mister Andor? Was Miss Arima seeing you instead?"
"With all due respect, she was in remedial lessons for afternoons. She had indicated on multiple occasions that Mister Wayland Kellenburg was causing her a great deal of distress. I don't think-"
"I wouldn't have ever been alone with someone as vile as him. With all due respect, Miss Headmistress," I finally speak up, my face white as a sheet, my fists balled up tightly. We stand in front of her office door as Samiel stares me down, her golden eyes narrow and practically seeping under my skin. I feel my blood begin boiling as she starts to turn the knob of her door.
"You say that now, but there's reasonable doubt behind your motives, Miss Arima. Your father has already been contacted to make an appearance." Her and Fakir disappear through her office door as I'm left in place, shaking in fear. Already I hear Fakir begin protesting her decision, as I'm rooted to the floor, fear gripping my stomach and thighs as I'm unable to budge an inch. He is going to be here, and I am going to die. Maybe not physically, but I am going to die as soon as his boots touch school grounds.
What have I done..? I feel like I've left my body, as though my soul isn't where it's supposed to be. I remember this feeling. I'm shutting down now as my limbs become heavy and weak and my mind runs empty. I slump down next to the door, numbness in my legs as I wait to be allowed in. The voices inside don't even seem real, just disembodied sounds and jumbled noises. I can feel my heartbeat in my fingers, it's consistent thrumming all that reminds me that I'm not dead quite yet. The vibration of Fakir's boots against the wooden floor startles me and I find myself on my feet again, finding my composure. He doesn't exit the door, but I can hear half of the conversation now.
"There's no way that what I saw was consensual touching… She was trying to physically wiggle from his grasp and ended up collapsing on the floor crying… Yes, I understand that might be the case, but that is no reason to assume-... Yes Headmistress… Mister Kellenburg was clearly out of line with that, you have to at least admit that… Mister Kellenburg, I understand you're angry, but there is..." The sheer frustration in his voice makes my stomach ache as I hear him step away from the door, only to become more ambient noise to the bleak situation. At least he's attempting to defend me. I begin pacing a bit, chewing my nails more. I had been so good those two weeks that my nails had thoroughly grown out. Now they were back down to the stubs as the skin on my fingers starts to peel. I want to bite, to chew, to do anything to distract myself.
I watch the door creak open as Wayland, Antoinette, and a large man exit. Their eyes latch onto me, burrowing deep into my psyche as they begin tearing through every little fibre of my person. There's a definitive venom in their stare as they walk out of the building. My skin is cold as Wayland blows a kiss at me, and I feel the sting of tears in my eyes as My stare can't be pulled away for whatever reason. I truly do feel violated in these few seconds of being near him. Headmistress Samiel calls my name and I rush into the office faster than I ever could before.
She sits at her large oak desk, lined with many files and trinkets, most of which I can't think to name. Her nameplate is front and center of the desk. Fakir stands guard at a window, staring at me like I'm just another student. She starts asking me about the event as soon as I'm sat in front of her, and I recount it. My memory is a fair bit hazy, since it was a good few months ago, but I know what I'm saying is true. Fakir doesn't butt in at all, just letting me speak. My hands tightly clutch the armrests on the chair, being interrogated by this woman.
"At no point did you two ever engage in consensual touching, correct?" She asks, jotting down the remainder of my testimony. I shake my head slowly.
"No ma'am."
"Have you ever engaged in consensual sexual touching with any student?" The question pierces through me, and I feel my heart sink. My voice is caught in my throat, and my mouth kept open. Fakir's hair stands upright on his arms, and I cock my head.
"Why does that matter?" I gulp, my hands clutching tighter
"Just answer the question, Miss Arima. It's pertinent to what's at hand." I take a large gulp of air, the lump lodged in my throat dislodging.
"N-no, I haven't ma'am," I hesitate, avoiding her eye contact. Samiel's voice gets harsher.
"Are you lying to me?"
"No ma'am."
I watch her hands scrawl something down before she perks up again. "Antoinette told me that you've been engaging in quite promiscuous behavior. Some of which may be more unsafe than other activities. You're telling me this isn't something that was going on?" My skin starts to crawl as even the notion I would sleep around was horrifying to me. I furiously shake my head, standing up from my chair.
"I would never dream of that!" My eyes start to well up as the betrayal starts to settle in. "Why the fuck would she ever say that?" Samiel ushers me back down.
"There's no need for that kind of language here, Miss Arima. I understand this might be stressful for you, but I have to make sure we cover every base." Her voice is clinical. I bite my tongue and sit in my chair once again. Fakir is staring back out the window, but I can tell just from his crossed arms and furrowed brows that he's equally as upset.
"I understand…" I whimper, my head turned towards the ground as I wipe away the pools of tears. She continues asking questions and I answer them slowly, methodically. Fakir just stands, watching something outside. His eyes are locked on something beyond my sight. I watch him finally perk up tapping the Headmistress's shoulder and whispering to her.
"Ah, I see." She stands up, heading towards the door. "Miss Arima, seeing as you're underage-and any further action will have to result in police interference-we have invited your father to speak on the matter as well." I sit frozen in my seat, knowing I have to face him in just a few moments. "Since he has just arrived, I will fetch him and speak to you both."
As the door clicks shut, I realize how empty I am now. My mind becomes a haze. It feels like I'm not even there, just a third party. My head feels empty and my skin cold. I can't even remember what I'm doing. I know I need to step back into my skin, but I can't. I can hear his voice, and I'm pulled even further out of my body, back into my mind so I can refuse to believe what's happening is real. I feel like I'm controlling a puppet as I watch my father sit next to me, his curly ginger hair and beard starting to whiten with his age, his burly body starting to crumble. But I can still feel the power he has, the overwhelming presence as his hand collapses atop mine. His voice echoes loudly throughout the room, but in all honesty I don't know what he's saying. I don't know what anyone is saying. I'm still gone.
An hour feels like it passes, and my father's hand is crushing mine. I remember that grasp, I was always meant to remember it. As I am excused from the room, he follows me. I'm still practically completely shut down, but I can hear his whispers directly into my ear.
"I didn't send you here to be a dirty whore. You think paying this tuition is fun? I brought you here so you wouldn't make me look like an absolute fucking buffoon like your mother did." I nod my head slowly as he speaks. His grip, now moved to my shoulder, feels like it's grinding my bones to dust. I want to cry, to call out and weep. But I know I can't. "If I have to come down here again because you're being a goddamned motherfucking prostitute, I will make absolutely certain that nobody will find you. Got it?" I nod again. His hand yanks my hair and I yelp in pain. He lets go, hugging me tightly, almost as if he's trying to cover up.
"Yes dad…" I finally gag out a response, my body is my own once again. He lets go, heading back towards the town.
"If I receive another letter that involves me coming to save you, then you know what will happen." I watch as he leaves, finally shifting back into my own body. I wobble a bit, trying not to fall to my knees in painstaking fear. Disassociation, that's what Fakir called it. It's something to do with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, he told me. Why can't I just feel normal for once? I stumble towards my dorm, watching Pique and Lilie walking together, making room for me in the hall. I smile at them, watching them awkwardly smile back. Lilie and Pique both have their lovely hair all the way down, probably having just gotten back from an overnight dorm sleepover. They did those when we were all younger as well.
"Hey guys," I murmur, trying to stand up normally.
"Ahiru, are you okay?" Pique asks, reaching her hand out to me, starting to hoist me up a bit more.
"Yeah, you look really sad," Lilie adds, both of them helping me stand a bit better.
"Oh, I'm okay. Just saw my dad after seven years, so that was weird," I try and laugh it off as they walk me to my room.
"We heard everything that Antoinette said about you. We know it's not true," Lilie blurts, opening up my door. I notice that someone has been laying out my birdseed as soon as I enter, my window ajar.
"Antoinette has been really trying to humiliate you since you've been gone." Pique sits me down on my bed, leaning against my windowsill with Lilie beside me. "Where have you been, anyway?"
I hesitate to respond, just catching my breath. "I was um… I was with Mytho and Rue. They invited me to stay in their cabin." My head pounds as my thoughts finally begin to rush back. Overloaded with the sense of dread and draining sense of having been friends with such a vengeful person. However, Pique and Lilie seem to light up at the mention.
"Seriously? That's amazing!" Lilie chimes, hugging me tightly like she used to. Their kind voices and cheerful presence makes me feel safe again. I feel like a person as they speak to me again. All my memories of being with them and actually enjoying myself, the genuine connections we share. I pull Lilie into a hug, listening to the gentle beating of her heart against my ear. It thuds against me as I hold onto her tightly, Pique joining in as well. This just feels right. The feeling of contentment is near overwhelming as they continue lathering me in their friendship. Pulling away from our platonic embrace, I see both of them were already crying.
"We missed you a lot, Duck. You became someone completely different and we worried." Pique wipes away tears from her pink face, speaking through hiccuped sobs. Lilie nods.
"It was so scary! We wondered if someone was blackmailing you or threatening to sell your family to pirates or something!" She adds, a bit flamboyantly. Pique softly patted her thigh, reminding her that the pirate thing was a joke, but Lilie continued to press on. "We just missed you a whole lot,"
We sit in my room as I explain the Antoinette situation, excluding the parts involving Fakir and I ending up alone together. They both seem equally upset about the events, but kind enough to stay by my side and still call me their friend. They stay in my room with me until the sun is completely set over the hilltops.
"You know where our rooms are, just knock and we'll be there for ya'," Pique smiles as Lilie drowsily sits under her arm, making their way to the door. I smile back and wave them off.
"I'll be fine, you goofballs. I'll talk to you two in the morning!" I chime equally as drowsy, standing up and stretching my legs. A small yawn manages to slip past my lips as soon as they make their way towards their dorms. I feel sufficiently full, having well enjoyed their company. It's painful watching them go after not talking to them for months.
I lean myself against the windowsill of my room, staring out into the vast, cold night. The back of my head still feels tense from earlier in the day, I realize as the cold air nips it. It feels so vulnerable to have it that long, now that I've had it yanked. My head doesn't ache as I gently stroke the small bundles of hair. Maybe I'm the problem… Maybe I need to change for anything to really happen anymore. Something is just wrong. I'm seventeen, goddamnit, people shouldn't be walking all over me like this anymore.
My hands shake a tad, sweat starting to drip down my palms. I rummage around my drawers for the scissors we occasionally used in class for projects, carefully peeling back the sheets of graded paper I had stuffed away in embarrassment. The hilt of the scissors graze my hand and I clutch them, curling my fingers through the holes. I tug them out and stare at the unused sharpened blades on either side. The glinting silvery shine of it makes the feeling of me running the dull edge against my hand and forearm feel nearly catastrophic, imagining the red pigments drifting down the edges in thin shimmering lines. 'Not here.' I tell myself, brooding over what I'm going to do with them. I stuff them underneath my nightgown and into the thick fabric of my undergarments.
The dormitory isn't quite dead, so as I slip through the halls, I watch the occasional pair of eyes settle on me, before the person attached to them begins giggling. The rising embarrassment makes me feel queasy, though I continue to smile at every passing person. In my mind, I know it's stupid to give these snickering bodies any semblance of kindness, but it's no use being equally as evil towards them, is it? I don't want to end up bitter and cold, angry at everyone who didn't understand me. It doesn't do any good to be upset at others when I didn't even have a chance to defend myself.
My hair stands on end as I reach the girls shower room. My trek past everyone has led to this one place, this place where I would change myself, practically shapeshifting into someone else. Opening the door, I notice the last few girls either just getting out of the shower or leaving the room. My face increases a shade as I look away, becoming as much of a wallflower as I can. The snickering and giggling continues however until I watch each girl leave.
"What a weirdo," I hear one of them mutter rather loudly. Maybe it was an accident, or a genuine means to shrink me down; either way, I feel like a complete weirdo anyway.
The shower room door shuts, and I wait a couple minutes, hoping no one else would be occupying this room alongside me. I wait a few more minutes and the door never opens once, so I release the breath I was holding in. My chest aches as I climb into one of the shower cubicles, still fully clothed. Sliding my fingers against the small tufts of my braid, I pull the scissors from their hiding place. My hands caress the dull sides against my hands. It feels so calming almost as I hear the creaking of the blades opening up. I turn on the shower water, feeling the cold spray against my face and body. It's shocking for the first few seconds, but the warm water quickly starts flowing. My dress becomes heavy and soaked as the water continues to drip down and the blades look almost like silvery streams. I clutch the hilt a bit tighter. Something about the squeeze of my grasp and the way they fall back together makes it so much more tantalizing.
I hold them up, watching them cut through the droplets, the shower starting to shrink around me as I come to terms with my decision more and more. It's only natural that I would do this. I've been pushed and pulled to this point that I might as well do this. Right here, and right now. The blades pulled underneath one of the first rungs of my hair, snipping it just above the rubber band. I hear the wet clump splat onto the floor. Looking down, I watch as the small red threads start escaping down the shower drain. The hair band remains untouched as my hair unfolds in the rushing shower water.
Another fistful of hair, snipped off. And another. And another. Until finally I feel the scissors whip against my shoulders. The short, wet clumps of hair struggle to all run down the drainage, clogging the flooring. I look over my shoulders and see the ends of my bright strawberry hair beside me. Finally, I turn off the running water and stand against the door of the cubicle, staring at the long strands of hair. The heavy weight on my back, now lies on the floor trying to escape from me. My head no longer feels tense as I stroke the back of my hair, feeling the places that had hurt.
My clothes practically drag on the floor as I step out and stand in front of one of the mirrors, where only the edges are frosted with steam. Staring at my reflection, it almost doesn't seem real. My hair is now just shoulder-length, after being so long down my back for so many years. I smile at myself, turning around to see the rather poor hack job. But I'm still finally relieved to see myself unhindered by the long twine interwoven into my skull. I take the scissors, evening out the sides and ends, trimming until it is perfect. And there I stand, as my red threads hang off the sink counter. It doesn't feel real, as I pick up a single strand, staring it over as it glimmers in the bathroom lights.
After cleaning up the remainder of my mess and wringing the water from my clothes, I make my way back into my silent dorm. Even wrapped in my blankets, I can't find the will to fall asleep. The knowledge I've reinvented myself in a matter of minutes weighs heavy on my mind, and a slew of new persona's reach into my mind. I can completely reinvent myself, can't I?
My fingers weave through the short strands of hair, playing with them so easily. It feels nice to be free. To be almost like a bird, in this sense; free of things holding me down and keeping me so rooted into my feet. Maybe dancing will be even easier now that I cut that pesky length off my back. I stand up from the coziness of my bed and begin practicing for my final. I have a week until it's due, and I'm not going to let anything get in the way of me passing. My feet are sore still, my blisters still barely starting to scab over, but I dance at least through the easy parts of my routine. My hair twirls over my face and I smile, happy with how much easier it is.
I stop to admire the sunrise from out of my window, leaning from my windowsill. I watch as Wayland prances through the academy gates with his sister, his smug face peering around the school grounds. Antoinette looks equally as smug, her nose upturned towards everyone and everything. I groan and close my window, starting to change now. I change into a black unitard and long translucent tutu, my short hair now grazing the very ends of my shoulders. I pull my fringe away from my face, moving it all to one side. Staring back at the sky, as it just starts to turn blue, I remind myself that today is about reinvention. Today is the start of something new, about me becoming something new. And I think that makes today a good enough day.