AN: Hello, just to preface this. I wrote this at the time of Monster Prom 2: Monster Camp's release. It was entirely inspired by the polaroid picture you get when Oz and Amira sit together on the Love Log. At one point or another, I thought of turning it into a mini-series type of deal, but its pushing towards three years of not writing. I keep coming back to it and wondering why I never posted it so here we are. Why these two? I dunno, but I kinda like it. Monster Prom 3: Monster Roadtrip does have Oz and Amira as Semi-Love-Interests in a DLC. Might see if my neurons re-activate for this pairing.
With that, thank you for reading and criticize away!
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To say that Amira Rashid was a bad motherfucker wouldn't be wrong. To say that she was one of the boldest and daring maniacs in Spooky High School wouldn't be incorrect. To say she could charm and play around with the best of them wouldn't be stupid. So, anyone who passed by didn't say a damn word when she couldn't take a step out from under the awning, reeling from the pouring rain.
It felt silly, like some childish fear that she never escaped. Though, it wasn't as irrational as those things were. In fact, it was completely normal. Amira didn't want to step into the cold autumn rain because it would be extremely uncomfortable. There wasn't some direct comparison for human understanding. It was a myriad of symptoms and feelings that blurred and merged together to the point of being unrecognizable. The only real label was uncomfortable of the extreme variety.
So, yeah, she didn't want to leave the sanctuary of the café's awning. She was tempted to call Vicky, to get a curbside pick up. Though, Vicky doesn't fare much when it pours this hard. Poor girl was like a lightning rod in this weather. Two steps out the door would bring down the thunder. It wouldn't stop her, of course, but Amira couldn't make her go through that. Then, there was Brian. He could make it through the rain. It would chill him to the bone if he had functioning nerve endings, but he had plans this afternoon, last she checked. It was a date with a certain demon; it was a guess on which one, red or blue.
Finally, there was Oz. Felt like they hadn't talked in a while. If she remembered correctly, they had been avoiding each other over the last week or two. It was an argument. She could guess it wasn't anything serious, considering she didn't remember what it was about. Though, it might be less of the argument being unimportant and more her being inconsiderate. Probably, it was her being passionate or a hard ass on something and them being too nice, oblivious, or a pushover about it. It used to happen a lot, especially when they first met. They got better at it and tried to compromise more. In the end, trying doesn't always mean succeeding.
The whole idea was stomach churning. Oz was one of her best friends. She didn't like the two of them being in limbo all the damn time. Fuck that bullshit that says arguing just means ya care about each other. It was uncomfortable as all Hell. Looking back on it and laughing about how silly it all felt pretty damn far away. Of course, it didn't help that a stray droplet would get blown past the awning's edge and sizzle against her hair.
She growled and sighed before taking a deep breath. She wanted to get out of the rain and mend up with Oz. Right now, she could feed two Youkai with one farmer. So, she fished out her phone and meddled through her contact list. A tap and a call rang as a picture filled her screen. It was a recent one, snapped when the four of them attended Monster Camp. The full picture was of her and Oz sitting at the campfire. Oz was introducing her to one of his phobia 'remnants'. Aspects of fear that were chipped away by those escaping their own.
Amira stared at the black blob on his shoulder. "They're lonely…", they replied.
The firewood chipped as campers buzzed and chattered, literally and figuratively. "Really?"
One of the phobias moved from his shoulder to the palm of his hand, "Yeah… That's why I try to look for them whenever I can."
She leaned forward, tilting her hand to observe the remnant, "Is it a lot of effort?"
"On both parties… The remnants need to get used to not… well, affecting their host. And I need to get used to a new voice."
"So, what? They make ya scared?"
Oz teetered their head, "Yeah, but not that much, they're not that powerful when they get cut off. It's like if your stomach tickled your ribs."
Amira shuddered, "Ugh… That's gross, dude!" She squirmed, shaking her head, "Just thinking about that makes me all, ugh!"
"Sorry," Oz laughed.
She shook off her discomfort, posing another question, "Guess they're like stray cats?"
"I guess," they shrugged.
"Why do you do it? If it makes you uncomfortable and all?"
"Because…" They stared at the phobia, petting its head with his finger, "I know what it's like to be lonely…" Amira's gaze shifted from the phobia to its host. "It's fine, sometimes, hell, maybe most of the time. But continuously with no end sight…" Suddenly, a firm matter-of-fact voice came, "It sucks. Like vacuum sucks." A laugh burst from Amira's lips as a chuckle left their's, "I don't mean the appliance; I mean like space."
Amira nudged him with her shoulder, "Good thing you're not alone then, huh?" Her gaze shifted to the phobia, staring back at her. "None of you." She smiled, gently petting the remnant with the tip of her finger.
Oz smiled, or at least, their eyes were shifted as if there was a smile underneath them, "Yeah… A best thing…"
A snap of the camera and a giggling Vicky followed. Oz sputtered and Amira laughed.
And then Oz picked up the phone.
Amira held the screen to her ear, "Hey, Oz…?"
"Hey," slipped through.
She took a deep breath, "Hey…"
"Hi…" they replied.
A bout of silence followed.
"Are you okay?" Oz asked.
Amira scratched her cheek, "Y-Yeah… Kinda…"
"Rain?" they posed.
"Yeah…" She gritted her teeth and shook her head before she said, "Oz?"
"Yeah?"
Another breath, "Can we talk?"
"Now?"
"In person."
They paused, slowly letting out, "Now…?"
Looking at the wandering bystanders around her, Amira coughed out, "At the house."
"Okay, long-way or short-way?" asked Oz.
"Short."
A pause before Oz stammered out, "A-Are you sure?"
Amira tugged on the rim of her jacket, taking a step back from the awning, "Yep."
"Al… Alright… uh…." Oz let out a breath, "Alright, give me a second, and uh… make some room."
"You got it." Amira took a breath; neither of them ended the call. Oz was arranging while she waited. It was a minute or two before her phone was filled with static. The screen glitched and the speakers cried before a black ooze began to seep from its crevices. It dripped and pooled on the ground. Orange lightning danced around her hand as a pitch-black cloud sputtered from between her fingers.
The ooze rose to meet the swirling void as quiet thunderclaps crowed from it. The ooze formed bones, soon linked by tendons. The void painted the formation with a layer of matte skin. The orange lightning sparked across the head of the being. Another clap before two large circular eyes opened. The clouds cleared, revealing the familiar white shirt with yellow cardigan combo that Oz always wore. Though, it had been joined by a two-tone windbreaker of tan and brown.
Amira tucked her phone away, wiggling her fingers, "Funky as always, Oz." The near electric tinge still lingered upon her digits.
They blinked, "Huh?"
"N-Nothing," shook off Amira, "-how's it going?"
A breath seeped from the matte void, chilling upon the air, "It's cold."
"Yeah…" she replied, scowling.
Oz stared at the cloudy sky, "I like it."
Amira's gaze snapped to them. At first, for a split second, she thought it was a mocking jab at her. However, those soft white orbs for eyes tore such a thought away. "To each their own," she shrugged.
"Hm…" they hummed. One of his phobias stared at her before he shook his head, asking, "Ready to go?"
Amira took a deep breath, letting it out sharply, "Nope."
"Ah, uh, we can wait."
"No, I'll never be ready," said Amira, shaking her head. "Fuck it, let's go." She took hold of their hand either ignoring or ignorant of the white blush on his face or the shudder of touch they endured.
Oz blinked before nodding, "Okay…" Their voice lowered, "Close your eyes…" Her eyelids fell and plunged her gaze into darkness. "Hold your breath…" Air was trapped within her lungs. "Don't trust what you hear apart from me… Always listen to my voice… Any other is trying to trick you… If it tells you to open your eyes, screw them shut… If it tells you to breathe, clamp your hand over your nose and mouth and hold on… I will guide through the dark, but you must…" They leaned in and whispered into her ear, "Listen."
How could one describe being pulled into a dimension beyond mortal comprehension? The closest thing she could think of would be like being an ant on the ripcord of a lawnmower. It felt as if her body was moving at speeds that it shouldn't be able to take. Her legs almost gave way, collapsing upon nothingness. However, there was a firm hand on her wrist, holding her tight: Oz. She couldn't call it a complete safety net. Their grip threatened to snap her in two, but that was to protect her from the alternative.
That alternative was something far larger than her, something loud and grumbling, sputtering. It would eat her whole if given the opportunity, disregarding whatever remained to the vastness around her. It whispered to her, threatened her, egged her. It wanted her to speak, to look. It wanted her fire, her clothes, her flesh. It wanted to invade her form and squeeze whatever life was within her out. It wanted to take her mind and torture it, ripening whatever fear was within for harvest.
In the end, that wasn't really the part that churned her stomach. No, the worst part came from knowing what it was. It was Oz: their stomach, their mouth, their instincts. The part of themself they denied and chained to the void. Its existence was what allowed the realms to still feel fear in spite of Oz's absence.
And then, just like that, Amira's senses were invaded by the familiar. There was the scent of a clean kitchen, an old couch, and a TV that was neither new nor old. There was the sound of a gasp escaping an undead girl powered by lightning, the scream of some dumb victim, and the painfully dull music of a B-Movie Slasher. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking to try and get used to the sudden light.
Amira stood behind the living room couch with Oz at her side. Before them was an engrossed Vicky, staring intently at the Slasher film. The crunch of popcorn and the sip of a drink seemed to be the only two things to break that concentration.
"How far are you?" asked Oz as they leaned against the couch.
Vicky murmured out, "Final Act."
"Ah, the 'Final Girl Circuit', huh?"
Amira looked between the screen and the embodiment of fear. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket, taking a breath. She coughed, "Oz?"
Their head slightly nudged in her direction, "Yeah?"
"Let's talk," she jerked her head towards her room.
Oz looked forward, 'taking a deep breath' and straightening onto their feet, "Right…" He turned, tucking their hands into their jacket's pockets, "After you." Amira walked from the couch and towards her bedroom's door that was painted with stylized fire emitting from a genie's lamp.
"Talk?" muttered Vicky, shifting her gaze to follow the pair.
Amira swung the door shut behind Oz, gesturing to the chair before her desk, "Go ahead and sit." Her room had a warm carpet, a leopard-print bed, a spruce-wood desk with matching accents, and so on. She felt usually comfortable here, it was her bedroom after all. However, now, there was a bit of unease pooling in her stomach.
Oz kept their hands in their pockets, taking a seat, "Ah, thanks…"
A bout of silence followed. Their arms stuck close to their body, tense. She plopped herself down on her bed, kicking off her shoes. Her soles rested on the carpet before she leaned over her lap, propping her elbows on her knees. Her teeth clenched as she took in a breath. "Is it… bad that I don't remember why we fought?"
"A bit…" they answered, almost incredulously.
"Sorry…"
A breath came in before being let out, "It's fine."
"It's not fine!" she countered. "We haven't talked for two weeks. The least I could do is remember why."
Oz sighed, "Amira, it… it doesn't matter. We should just… go back to normal." They leaned forward, mimicking her pose, and crossing his arms, "Forgive and forget."
Amira shook her head, falling back into her bed, "Feel like I did that in the wrong order…"
"And that's fine," Oz seemed to smile, "really."
She sighed, laying her hands on her face, "What was it about?"
Oz rubbed their arm, "I… I don't want a rehash." Their head hung, "I don't like arguing with you. I just want to go back to normal."
"Why're you like this…?" she muttered.
"Huh?"
Amira's palms smacked against her forehead, "You're the embodiment of fear… You're like a fundamental concept of fucking life!" Her feet kicked into the air, "Why're you so…!? Why're you so nice!? Ugh, I don't get it!"
"D-Don't get it?"
"You don't have to be nice. You could wipe the floor with anyone and everyone." She sat up, "Scaring Vera would probably make her want to bang you on the cafeteria floor!"
Oz countered, "Or she'll want to kill me because I'm suddenly a threat."
"Good point…" she sighed, falling back.
"Why does it… bother you so much?"
Amira sighed, "Vera, Miranda, Damien, they all wreak havoc whenever they want. Polly, Liam, Scott, Zoe, too. You could do that. You could do whatever you want. Rival any of them, rule the school, but you don't you just… settle…"
"Settle?"
Her arm draped over her face, "You settle for us…"
Oz spoke defensively in her honor and their friends', "I… I don't settle for you guys… I… You're my best friends." His eyes narrowed, "I… I don't settle for you…" Their look softened , rubbing his arm as he sat back, "D-Don't say things like that."
"Remember the last prom?" she posed, sitting up. "Brain, Vicky, me, we all get laid out. Vera wanted nothing to do with me. Liam ditched Brain. Miranda hit Vicky with some harsh ass logic. You got a date with Polly fucking Geist while we were stuck at home… But suddenly, ya didn't… You fucking ditched her to hang out with us."
Oz chuckled, "Yeah… She only forgave me after I told her the location of a dealer's cocaine stash."
"You could be one of the popular ones, Oz," deemed Amira, looking off to the side. "You could sit with the top of them, upgrade from PC to Love Interest, ya know?"
"I would only want that if we did it together…"
"Oz-"
"Hear me out," interrupted Oz. "Amira… I get it. I love the wacky shenanigans we all get up to. I enjoyed being a criminal with Vera, an arsonist with Damien, and so on. But… I don't really see those as permanent things. Yeah, sure, we get close, but not really, you know? I think after all this time that they're finally looking at us differently, but that came after dozens of attempts to win their attention. And we can still lose it all in a blink."
"I've been alone for a long… long time." Their eyes met hers, "Until I met you…" A blush followed as their eyes widened before they shook his head, "A-And Vicky and Brian… Heh…" They took a deep breath, "I'm not worried that you'll ditch me once we finally graduate… I'm not scared that you'll take advantage of me… And I know that you're trying to accept me for what I am, who I am." Their voice hitched, "And I can't explain how much that means to me…"
White tears trickled from his eyes as a chuckle trickled his lips, "I…" A forced laugh, "I-I went on a tangent, huh? Uh… S-Sorry, we were… Uh…" His shoulders shook as he fought the bump in his throat. It was when Amira's arms wrapped around him that Oz froze stiff. Her head fell into the nook between his neck and shoulder. His hands hesitantly moved, slowly wrapping around her form in turn.
They were silent in their embrace. With Oz being made up of the ceaseless void between dimensions, any form of heat and warmth seemed to get absorbed and forgotten by their flesh. However, luckily, Amira was a person with all of that and more to spare. By their natures, their contact sought balance; almost as if they were a natural fit.
Amira Rashid didn't understand Oz, but she was trying… and, for now, that was more than enough.